Looking North

One of the more prominent symbols in our culture, the North Star provides a stable vantage point both realistically as well as, and maybe even more importantly, metaphorically speaking. The North Star, or Polaris, appears stationary at all times, lying  directly overhead as seen from the North Pole. The other stars in the Northern sky rotate around it, taking cues from this reliable lead. Enter symbolism. It is probably a safe presumption that most people are searching for their own North star, purpose or meaning of some sort. A destination we can strive towards, approaching ever slowly, but steadily. Other commentaries identify the North Star as a symbol of the fulfillment of dreams. Sailors aligned their coordinates in relation to this mighty star in order to return safely home, and so we too align our behaviors so that in time we may navigate this world and create our ideal life. For the past two years, I have been a little lost in terms of work and finding my place. That being said, it is quite fitting that this story would begin for me, a self-proclaimed idealist, at a company called none other than Look North Inc. 

Relocating from Washington, DC to my home state of New Jersey brought me the opportunity to begin anew. And with some good fortune, I found my North Star. Situated in a charming Victorian home, this creative and technology studio has been in practice since 1996, providing the services of strategy and planning, user experience design, and web development among others for a slew of interesting clients. Their growing list of clients and projects necessitated the addition of another team member, a project manager, to organize the process. That’s my cue.

I graduated from Georgetown University two years ago with a double major in Marketing and Entrepreneurship and held a few positions that were less, well far less, than ideal. Here I was, a bright eyed recent graduate, inflated with the promise of a rewarding career and professional fulfillment that my professors so ardently instilled, stuck in jobs that felt quite hopeless. Day in and day out, I wondered if this was really what my schooling was supposed to prepare me for. So excited to graduate and start making my mark, I was left with a substantial void where my future prospects should have been, accompanied by a feeling of helplessness because I could not seem to figure out where I fit. I maintain it is important to have goals and to strive, but looking back I probably would have tempered those expectations just a bit. Ok, I should have tempered them leaps and bounds, but it was a chapter marked by much learning, a thicker skin, more realistic perspectives, and some needed patience. Are there greater sorrows in the world than an unpleasant work experience? You bet. But when conditioned to believe in the potential that life will hold, it can be quite demoralizing to leap into the unknown, lose your paddle and then have your compass stolen.  Thankfully, supportive people I met along the way provided much needed light for my journey.

Dunk Driving

Despite an incredibly long vacation from blogging, it has not been a vacation in the least from eating. Senior week festivities, graduation parties, dinner after dinner, and open bar after open bar spelled a foodie's celebration at its best. A week long adventure through Rome, Florence, and Assisi, this little lady was exploring culture the only way I see fit... through the stomach. Finally, home and settled after a whirlwind of highs and lows, happiness and anxiety. It has been a tumultuous few months, filled with lifestyle changes, rampant emotion, and consistent reflection. I always tended to be a thinker, but I never had all that much time with school to really ask myself the difficult questions like, what will I be and how the hell will I get there. Maybe it was for the better to be too occupied to ask these questions, because the problem with this line of personal interrogation is the fact that there are no clear cut answers. That's just life. I was always insulated from real life, thanks to the joys of a college education, summer vacations, and vigorous studying for exam after exam. Don't get me wrong, school is essential and a wonderful preparation for the real world, but it is also unrealistic when compared to the great beyond of the L word... life.

Those of you who know me, know that I am not the greatest driver. I haven't driven in four years, give me a break! Regina is the first to take over the wheel for fear of having to tolerate my driving. And mama loves to be behind the wheel so I usually defer to her no matter what the circumstance. On a rare occasion, I am in the car by myself and I have to be hyper vigilant or I will miss a turn... or five. Regardless though, the driving experience provides some continuity. For one, there is always music blaring. Additionally, more often than not, you are sharing the open road with someone you care about, whether family or friend. And last but not least, there is a Dunkin Donuts hazelnut iced coffee with some half and half in the cup holder. College developed in me a sever dependency on my coffee products. The funny part is I don't always drink the caffeinated variation; I just find comfort in the taste and what a cuppa joe represents. It is slightly sinful when you add some cool flavors or ten packets of sugar, but largely it is a safe choice next to soda and other frappa lappa doo dah complicated drinks. There is moderation in coffee, or at least there can be moderation if you train yourself, as I have had to. More than taste though, an iced coffee is fundamentally necessary to any long venture in the car. It is a mindless activity that can be sustained without detracting from concentration. It is a mobile meal, sometimes accompanied by greasy tater tots from Wendy's or those amazing deep friend french toast sticks. The only downfall is the part where the syrup ends up on your seat belt and sometimes yourself.

Long road trips with the radio playing your favorite recent hits, let us experience life as if it were a movie, just for a moment in time. Pretty in Pink or the Breakfast Club esque, the songs playing define your culture and generation. You sing along, whether or not you are in key. No one is there to judge you, or maybe it is the fact that the people in the car probably like you enough to tolerate your attempt at Barbara Streisand or Celine. Keep telling yourself that these soulful singers had their start in the back of a pickup truck, singing along to the Eagles of Earth, Wind, and Fire. Wind rushing beside you, sun shining through the roof, music, road, and iced coffee. Life of late has been a transition. I am not insinuating that it should be difficult in the least, but as any young recent graduate will tell you, its different. I have my health and an amazing support system so all in all, vita e' bella. But it is still a challenge to look forward without panicking. Your time is spent considering your happiness and future. The years of schooling have been endured, exams taken, and entry level jobs sought, and sometimes left. Sensory overload at its best. There is no control group in the experiment of young adulthood.

You just have to go forward and assess the journey at every juncture. I guess the important thing to remember is to be honest with yourself and look internally for the answers. Everyone's opinions are usually relevant in some way, as there is always a lesson to be learned even in the most unfortunate of circumstances. Even starting a job, to find out it made you miserable and scared the ever living bejesus out of you because it was so far from what you envisioned. But above all, the answers lie with you. Finding contentment in life has to originate from deep down. There is no manual for building a life we can be proud of, no algorithm, or even a wise sage that can tell you everything there is to know about finding fulfillment. Only God knows that, and he gave us the freedom to figure it out. So in short, taking an exploratory look at life and trying to really pinpoint what brings us joy whether we are 21 or 95, is a sound approach. And when you are dreadfully overwhelmed by the scary thoughts and anxious panic that sets in when you are trying to define yourself, your life, and your goals, grab the keys and an iced coffee, and hit the road. Let Rascal Flatts take you to the promise land of the open road, and after an hour or so, your world might start to make more sense.

Chocolate Cake Cure-All

It has been far too long since I have shared my foodie point of view. This is in no way due to the fact that I have been bereft of thoughts, but more so because I have been inundated with schoolwork, nights at the restaurant, and that whole finding a full time job and transitioning into adulthood business. Thankfully I have a part time job now that I quite enjoy...a small bit of affirmation despite not finding a full time position just yet. If only there were more hours in the day to search. But there will be no settling on my part so I will wait it out. The only solace I feel when I am drowning in homework, is the fact that nearly everyone around me here at Georgetown is feeling just as overwhelmed, seniors included. What happened to the simple senior year everyone mentioned. Or perhaps that is just some illusion people create for themselves by checking out, partying excessively, and pretending that school is irrelevant. Sadly, as the future and responsibilities are coming ever drastically closer, lessons in the classroom do seem a tad less relevant. Applying the lessons acquired in the classroom seems like a more worthy undertaking, but I am not the type to give up entirely. Although sometimes I wish I was one of those carefree Wednesday night bar hoppers. Ah nah I don't. Not my style. I really prefer working it seems! I spend my weekends at Filomena Ristorante nowadays. Only the best Italian food in all of the District. It took entirely too long for me to inquire about a job there, as I am in love with everything about it. Shame I never figured it out sooner. The employee meals are to die for, obviously. And working with people has been great practice for me; I am developing a thicker skin our of necessity. My coworkers are so cheery and warm hearted. There is a great sense of camaraderie that they have so graciously extended to me... like a family. We share a meal every shift called "family dinner" and it is a very fitting name. Good food, with good people. Is there really anything else more fundamental to our happiness? I am having a hard time coming up with it if there is. 

Now, a thought provoking question at the end of a hellishly busy week of paper writing, long restaurant hours, on Valentine's day no less (that was a party :/ ), and assignment after assignment. What is more comforting than family and friends? No, boyfriends out there-You are not the answer. Sorry. Drumroll please...

The answer is CHOCOLATE CAKE. Ever have a really awful date, and rush home so that you can sit in your jammies, snuggle up in bed, and devour some chocolate decadence?  Please tell me I am not the only person that does that. Or how about the time you made an entire chocolate cake, for a date that you anticipated having, just to be disappointed and stood up. The regiment is the same however. Home. Bed. Cake. Repeat. It is uncanny how an inanimate object has such an overall calming essence. Maybe it is the big glass of milk that hits the spot just right after you ingest layer after layer of chocolaty goodness. The dismal part of the remedy I have coined the chocolate cake cureall is that is it not the best for your waistline, guilt complex, or self esteem. Drowning any sorrow in a slice of triple chocolate mousse is only healthy and maybe even acceptable in moderation. Every girl needs her cake. But sometimes what we need more, is perspective. So what if your test was horrible, or it is the time of the month, or the boy you thought was the one turns out to suck... surprise, surprise. Thankfully we are living and breathing proof of resilience. Little detours, annoying  circumstances, and tremors might pervade our young years, but that is just a part of life it seems. And these situations are only as wretched as we allow them to be...never so overwheliming that they are able to defeat us. So just remember to keep everything in perespective, funny coming from me, the worry wart. But if you still feel the itch for something chocolate, "raise your glass" of two percent and cozy up with a slice. Or even better, share a slice with a dear friend, in celebration of the beautiful person you are. More frequently we turn to the chocolate cake cureall to cover up sentiments of helplessness, but remember that our dear friend Double Fudge Layer Cake has needs too. A happy companion will do...

A Handmade Holiday

The environment is a familiar one. Christmas music is blaring, young couples are walking hand in hand, and ovens are operating at maximum capacity. Everyone is frantically searching for the perfect gift. Go to any store, anywhere in the world, within the week of Christmas day and it will be apparent. People disregard the fact that Christmas is intended to be a season of peace and joy, and they fight one another to get the last discounted ipad on the shelf. But I have learned year after year at Christmas that there is not one gift, anywhere in existence, that can replace the simplicity of something handmade. As the saying goes, money can't buy you love, unless you ask the so-called stars of  The Real Housewives of insert city here on Bravo per say, but I ardently believe this to be true. Sure I succumbed to the pressures of buying beautiful, and thoughtful gifts in the store, but I sought something unique this Christmas as well: a hand made holiday.

I have a love of many things...one of which is scrapbooking. Sneaking about in my Nana's drawers, I recovered loads of photos from their golden years. Their childhoods, my Mama's adolescent years, and even my sister and my own humble beginnings as bright eyed little girls. Antique black and white photos portraying my Nana's wedding day, portraits of my Mimi, and pictures from our beach house down in Forked River from 15 years ago. Regina waddled around in her swimsuit and life vest, while I plotted how to jump into the lagoon. My Papa had to tie me to the boat with a leash like rope, for fear that I would take a running leap to swim with the fishies. It was a beautiful time in our lives, and I looked back fondly on what a fortunate young lady I was to grow up in a loving family. Fortunately, I discovered old photo albums Mommy amassed as well and I had a multitude of picturesque memories to work with. Already well equipped with scrapbooking materials to scrapbook all four walls of my bedroom, I went to the craft store to find a medium for these memories... one for each of my immediate family members. For Mom, a desk calendar, for Regina, a mirror, for Dad, a letter holder, for Papa, a clipboard, and for Nana, my favorite of all, a serving platter. I bought some funky glues and assorted paper mache supplies and went home with my stash.

Early mornings when family was off to work and Regina was asleep, I worked in my little makeshift workspace (aka the kitchen) I labored like a little elf. Making something tangible out of simple polaroids. Photos that might have been thrown away had I not stumbled upon them. With some glitz, a little glue, and lots of artsy additions I made gifts that I am quite proud of. Each of them is functional, as well as personally relevant. Mommy has a small workspace and much need for a unique time piece, while Daddy handles all the bills and boring mail. Regina is a fashionista, Nana loves to entertain, and Papa is always engrossed in some task on his feet and could use a clipboard.

Beyond pragmatism, I think the gifts are simply lovely, because they were made from scratch. In the process, I was able to relive my happiest memories of childhood, and muse about what it must have been like to know my Mimi and grandparents when they were so young. Before ipods as well as facebook and all the other things that preoccupy us these days. Besides the crafting, I baked a few concoctions including coconut cupcakes with cream cheese icing, Granny's traditional "dunk cookies" perfect for a good cup of coffee, and a pumpkin pie. Baking is particularly gratifying because it is a process meant for sharing. Cassie and Christopher came over and we reminisced about awkward high school years, contentment in college, and anxious aspirations for the future. Cassie shared her quick and easy Peppermint Schnapps's Brownie Bites, of which Chris and I ate nearly ten. Yum.

We just finished a splendid spread of fish, fresh capellini, lobster ravioli, and broccoli rabe and are lounging by the fire before Christmas mass. Life is calm, for the moment, and I am with the people I love. All will be well if we continue to have faith in the power of togetherness and the beauty of memories past to sustain us through any trial.

"So for tonight, we pray for, what we know can be...And on this day, we hope for, what we still can't see. It's up to us to be the change, and even though we all can still do more.There's so much to be thankful for."

Dim Sum and Dumplings

What a beautiful weekend it has been. Food, family, and friends. Or should I say copious amounts of food. Thanksgiving in America is a fairly consistent indicator that overeating will ensue. But oh how lovely it is to be surrounded by the people you adore, as you inhale four variations of potatoes, nana's stuffing, turkey with all its fixings, and not one, or two, but four kinds of pie. I am still suffering from the comatose state illicited by my formidable Turkey Day five course marathon of consumption.

Beyond being with my family, I was very thankful to be in the good old United States. I recently returned from Hong Kong and although it was remarkable, nothing beats the comfort of home. Ravishing though was my experience. After an intimidating 16 hour flight, myself and a few other students from Georgetown commenced on our journey to the East. It was my first time in all of Asia, so I was anxious but also a bit nervous. The flight, the language barrier, you name it, and I am comfortable handling it. What I wanted to know is... how's the food!?

Coming from an Italian family, I am extensively acquainted with pasta. We have it virtually all the time, whether baked rigatoni for dinner, or a quick pasta bolognese for lunch... even a pasta frittata with leftovers from the night before for breakfast. But I had not anticipated the emphasis the Chinese place on those noodles! Every meal....noodles. For breakfast we had scrambled eggs and nothing other than lo mein. Greasy, fried lo mein. Granted we were staying in a university, so the food was not paramount, but it was so odd having your morning tea, toast, scrambled eggs (if you could call them that) and some vegetable lo mein in all its glory. Kind of a weird experience for me, but refreshing to take a bite of a different culture.

We endeavored to the Peak Tram on our day off and rode it all the way to the top, from which we were able to see an absolutley breath taking view of all of Hong Kong in its glory. The sky was a clear bright blue, and as Barabara Streisand would say, you really could see forever. After doing the tourist gig for a bit, we settled down for a nice meal and I had the most bountiful pineapple, (yes you heard me correctly) pineapple filled with rice that you have ever laid your eyes on.

And obviously I finished it like a champ. Would you expect any less of me?

We had our fair share of street food ranging from obscure meats to dumplings in broth, with some seasonings I cannot name to this day, but nothing compared to the fine wine and dine experience we were offered by our corporate sponsor Citi Group. Dining in their posh headquarters, we sat in the boardroom and conversed with all of our new international friends. Dishes varied from traditional dim sum, which is an assortment of steamed, bite sized, Chinese delicacies offered at lunchtime, to fresh vegetables, American favorites, and fried rices to die for. Sushi and some Western dishes were also served to accomodate the diverse palletes in attendence and lastly we finished with some petit fours for dessert. Bite sized tiramisu and fruit tarts were a perfect ending to a whirlwind day, as we gazed outward at the majestic city. Surreal...

All in all it was a cultural and culinary overload. I met kind people from all over the world and various parts of the United States. We danced until 4:00 am to American pop music in the heart of Hong Kong Island. Experiencing Halloween eve in Lai Kwai Fong was a night never to be forgotten. If you ever thought Americans took Halloween seriously, you should check out this cultural nook. A narrow street, lined by bars and clubs, and charismatic people from all over the world. Over the top costumes and loud 80's music blaring from every direction. Posh people with GREAT accents, provocative getups, and lots of booze flowing, let's just say that it was an experience unlike I have ever had, and probably ever will have!

Above all though, the new found friendship and foods are what I will remember. The breathtaking backdrop as I barter with a woman who is blabbering incomprehensibly...trying to sell me coins for nearly 100 American dollars. Ok, lady whatever you say... walk away inconsipicuously. Meeting new acquaintances on the plane, and dining in the finest of hotels, it was a week to remember.

Dear Hong Kong, thanks for the memories.