What I Did During My Winter Vacation

1. Flew to Michigan. I used to LOVE flying. I used to get happy just going to drop someone off at the airport. Homeland Security has totally ruined the experience. There is no joy or excitement about it. I just grit my teeth and wait for it to be over: surly TSA workers (most of whom seem to be a hybrid between automatons and a trained monkeys), the three-ounce rule, taking off your shoes, half a dozen checkpoints before boarding the plane, the mentality that every passenger is a potential terrorist, et cetera. Travel used to be a complete experience comprised of the journey as well as the experiences at the destination, not anymore.

2. Dealt with pressure. I have mixed feelings about visiting Novio because about 90% of his friends are married and have children. When I visit him we spend time with his friends, who are nice people, but I feel this (usually) unspoken pressure to hurry up and join their club, which I will do when I’m good and ready, not because they’re in a rush to see us hitched and procreating. Novio is of no help either. He wants it so badly, he can taste it (he tries valiantly to seem nonchalant about it, but it’s too obvious to ignore). Furthermore, some time ago I had made friends with the possibility that I may never marry or give birth to a child. I was cool with that because, as they say back home, “Mejor sola que mal acompañada.”

3. Did some knitting. At the last minute I decided to make a hat for Novio because the machine-made ones he wears are so…let’s just say they insult my eyes. Then I worked on a cardigan. Yes, I know I had promised not to embark on any new significant projects until I had halved the UFO pile, but I really do need a black cardigan.














4. Gawked at random strangers. I spotted an interesting scarf on an airport escalator. The man wearing it thought I was checking him out and got all happy. A few minutes later I caught myself trying to figure out the zigzag design on another man’s hat. Had to look away before he too thought I was checking him out.

5. Met up with an old acquaintance. It just so happens that Fola was going to be spending a few days in Indiana--about 35 minute’s drive from where I was in Michigan, so we met up. It was very nice to see her. She has developed quite a British accent, which I don’t remember her having ten years ago. It’s cute. As I left she said, “I hope it won’t be another ten years before we see each other again!” I promised that it wouldn’t. And what do you know? I kept my promise sooner than expected because I’d left my cell phone behind, so the next day she came by to drop it off (yay!). While separated from my phone, Em-hijabi, whom I haven’t spoken to in months called (boo!) from England. I hope she calls back soon.

6. Did something green. I finally bought rechargeable batteries for the greedy little digital camera. I’m pleased to discover that I can charge my new NiMH batteries in my older NiCd charger. The downside is that it’ll take 63.6 hours to charge.

7. Smiled. Brief comic relief was provided by a flight attendant who was a chubbier, effeminate version of Philippe Noiret. Also, another flight attendant cracked me up when she said, "If you are sitting in an exit row you may be asked to insist the crew." Insist?

8. Felt grateful and hopeful. A year ago I was miserable, stressed out, sleep-deprived, frustrated, irritable and just plain unhappy. All because of the incompetent, inexperienced, manipulative administrators at my job. I made more money than I ever had before, but that did not do anything to make me want to stay there. I feel sorry for those who are so deep in dept or are living such a life style that forces them to stay. Live within your means people! Not making much money now, but thank God I no longer work there. My life has improved markedly. Here’s hoping that 2008 is all the more better. I wish the same for you.

Another Blanket

This is RJ, son of my friend Lorraine. I credit him with helping me improve my beginner knitting skills considerably. When he was in utero I decided to make him a sweater. At that point, I was too intimidated by knitting patterns, so I found a very easy crochet pattern and modified it for knitting. The sweater you see him wearing was my first attempt. That little project gave me the courage to try making sweaters for myself. Also the first blanket and booties* I ever made were for him. Of course, looking back at it now I spot things like the curled edges (which I now prevent with seed stitch or ribbing), nonetheless, I hold a special affection for this, my first sweater. [That thumb belongs to his great-grandmother, who's around 95 years old and has hair that resembles snowy roving.]

Lorraine hated that yarn, so she gave it to me. After I began working, or rather, wrestling with it, I hated it too. It was an acrylic imitation of mohair. I was able to tolerate it just long enough to finish RJ’s projects and dutifully returned the twelve balls that were left over to her. This massive purchase of horrid yarn was the result of bad advice given by a surly clerk at Smiley’s whom we suspect doesn’t even knit or crochet. I’m not telling you not to shop there, just don’t take the advice of the shrews who work there (especially since they have a no refunds-no returns policy). Okay, maybe that’s a bit harsh. The purchase was made a few years ago. Here’s hoping that they have hired more pleasant and knowledgeable clerks.

RJ is now a big boy. In fact, as of this summer, he is no longer an only child. This blanket is for his baby brother. By the way, Lorraine is an excellent crocheter (Isn’t it nice to make something for a fellow crafter? Then you know they will appreciate it.). I hope to feature some of her creations in the future.

You must be thinking, “Guaria seems to have a really fertile bunch of friends!” The fact is that most of them are in their 30s, which for professional women of Generation X means baby-making time. What I think is odd is that they have all given birth to boys, even the one who was just dying to have a girl.




*Thanks to a pattern from Clare of the Teaism knitting group. I tell you, knitters are some of the most unselfish, giving people around.

The Marvels of Facebook (part 2 of 2)

There is a guy who developed a crush on me last year. I never gave him a chance because he’s 20 and I’m in my 30’s. I don’t mind younger men, but five years is my limit, and the age difference between us is much more than that. I mean really, the year I graduated from university he was probably in kindergarten. “Age ain’t nothing but a number,” he says. Yeah, whatever.

This autumn he sent me an e-mail inviting me to his network of friends on Facebook. Although I’d ignored several invitations to join social networking services from others before, this time I decided to go ahead and do it. As expected, I didn’t know any of his friends. However, I did find one of my former piano students through one of his friends’ networks, which was nice. I didn’t do much else with Facebook after that.

Two days ago I received a one-line message through Facebook that read “Did you visit Vienna during the late 1990s?” It was Fola! I was shocked. It turns out she did a search for me in Facebook and found my name. Although there was no photo (haven’t uploaded one yet), she went out on a limb and sent the message. How cool is that? To reconnect after ten years! I am really looking forward to this new-old friendship.

The Kindness of Strangers (part 1 of 2)

In 1997 I spent a couple months backpacking through Europe. You know, traveling to a new country every week with my rail pass and staying in youth hostels. One evening I got on a tram in Vienna. An attractive African girl greeted me as if we were old friends. She asked if I spoke English and where I was headed. I told her that I had just arrived from Budapest and was on my way to a hostel. Fola was on her way to the first year anniversary celebration of the Black university students’ organization and invited me to come along.

At the party there was music, food, drink and lots of friendly people. In the middle of it all she called everyone’s attention and said something like “My friend here just arrived in Vienna and needs somewhere to stay for the night. Can anyone accommodate her?” My embarrassment was soon replaced by surprise when I saw the hands of three or four willing volunteers go up. It was then decided that I would go with Mara because she lived closer than the others.

It turned out that Mara lived with her aunt. When we got to the door she said something like “Hi, auntie, this is Guaria. She needs somewhere to stay for the night.” The aunt did not bat an eyelash, as if this sort of thing happened all the time. They gave me a warm, comfortable place to sleep and fed me breakfast before I went on my way the next morning. I was in awe and disbelief at their kindness to me, a stranger.

After I returned to the United States, Fola and I exchanged a couple of letters and Mara and I exchanged a few e-mails, then we lost touch.