Are Our Feet A Method of Transportation?

In responding to an opinion page letter in the newspaper, a thought occurred to me. It seems that the Department of Transportation does not think of pedestrians as often as they should. Think about this for a moment: they rebuild streets and highways, they regulate all which is related to vehicular transport.
On the DOT website, under the heading "What We Do" you can see their mission statement:

The mission of the Department is to:

Serve the United States by ensuring a fast, safe, efficient, accessible and convenient transportation system that meets our vital national interests and enhances the quality of life of the American people, today and into the future.

Now I don't know about you, but I'm not entirely certain this qualifies as informative. Having read that mission statement, can you tell what they do? Naw, me either.

The opinion letter I was responding to was discussing a new bridge that was built by the DOT in McLean, NY. The idea of the new bridge was to build it with an extended guardrail so that if a car lost control on the bridge it would not land in the creek. However the pedestrian walkway on the bridge is on the wrong side of the rail, thusly dooming any pedestrians who are in the wrong place at the wrong time to either a grisly end, or a bit of a leap out of the way (landing said pedestrian where? In the creek.)

It dawned on me at this point, the DOT doesn't consider our feet to be a method of transportation. This is startling, since they were indeed the FIRST mode of transport. And they continue to be a free way to get around. So why is it that this regulatory department does nothing to ensure the "safe, accessible, efficient and convenient" transportation of the citizens of this country via their own two feet?

Think about it; if the DOT was to consider pedestrians, they would be responsible for the care and maintenance of all city sidewalks, ensuring that every single corner was handicap-accessible (look around, only a percentage of the corners have ramps). They would be at fault if a sidewalk was in disrepair, and it could fall to homeowners and businesses to report the faulty sidewalks to the DOT.

Suddenly the tax paying citizens would have more money in their pockets, as they would no longer be stuck with the bill for sidewalk repair. These citizens would be happy to walk to local shopping areas and pedestrian malls, knowing that their travel would be safe and efficient. The money they have saved from sidewalk maintenance would now filter back into the local economy, and everyone is happy!

Okay, so I have ZERO idea how to even get the ball rolling on this idea. Anyone know a senator?

It's the most wonderful time.... for your credit cards

Well, that's it! I thought I had seen it all. I have kids, I've been subject to the seemingly hundreds of thousands of commercials for really absurd toys. But this year, toy manufacturers seem hell-bent on the dumbing-down of America's children.

I bring to the witness stand the following pieces of evidence to support such an outlandish statement:
Item 1: "Tini Puppini", a stuffed dog, or "puppini" if you will, who is wearing makeup, clothing, and even the hottest in canine footwear. See the following photo for further proof:


It should be noted that while doing a Google search, I misspelled Tini (I know, how dare I?) and if you type in Teeni Puppini toys, you will get a list that is very, very naughty indeed.

Item 2: Pixos Super Studio by Spin Master. Keep in mind, this is not by the Spin Doctors, they are a band and would never reduce themselves to making idiotic toys.
The super studio has your otherwise intelligent children plunking down these spheres of varying colors and then spraying them with nothing but ordinary household tap water so they will stick to each other. What's that, you say? Normal tap water causes them to stick? Now, any intelligent parent, and I know you are, might wonder what in the hell are these things made of???? Well, I'm so glad you asked. According to all the information available on the internet, it is magic. That's right, you read it correctly. When you're done reading this blog, I have a bridge to sell you...

Item 3: Girl Gourmet Cupcake Maker. Okay, I'm going to get on my equality kick for a minute. As the parent of two sons who watch nothing but Good Eats with Alton Brown on the Food Network, I have to take exception to this. In the decade we are in, do we truly need to keep specifying which gender can play with which toys??



Item 4: all of the baby dolls on the market that eat, drink, pee, and poop. Have they made one yet that spits up? I'm not sure. But that whole category irritates me.

Item 5: Aloha Elvis . Okay, it's not really dumb, but do you know ANY kid who wants this??


Item 6: Wild Quest Gorilla Tracking Playset. Yup. Just in case your kids weren't sufficiently happy tracking their younger siblings, they can now track and catch a fake gorilla. This set comes with: one gorilla, one action figure, one power light, one vehicle, one net, six accessories.

Well, as much as I could keep searching and finding absolutely absurd toys for the effective dumbing down of my children, I have decided that my time may be better served with other pursuits. Enjoy your Christmas shopping, folks, and remember, no matter what is under the tree for your kids, they almost always have more fun with the packaging. Save yourself some time, and wrap a gigantic empty cardboard box instead. The fort-building possibilities are endless.

Merry Christmas.

So, I'm ditching the novel... There was a story there, and perhaps someday it will truly see the light of day. For now, I'm working on other projects, and you'll know more soon.

My new job is keeping me really busy, so if I don't write anything here for a bit, I apologize. I will return to making you laugh very soon.

The Muse

you see her, letting the flowing fabric slide softly to the floor,

unpinning her hair and letting it tumble to her shoulders,

falling across one cheek slightly.

A goddess, a muse,

curls surround her porcelain face.

warm winds pick up, lifting the hair once let down

pulling it around in golden rings around her head.

pools of light fill her eyes, betraying her truth.

Add a comment

Fall Photos in Ithaca

Gorgeous. I LOVE this photo of the berries.

My obligatory "One Red Leaf" photo, which I feel compelled to take every fall.

A cello hanging on the side of the house. Wouldn't it be cool if that was the mailbox?

The sun shining through the grapevines. When the grapes ripened they landed on the car parked underneath. Maybe not such a good plan.

Reminds me of the TONS of firewood we stacked growing up. No, really, TONS.

Beer bottles on the porch down the street.

Studying Dante, Chapters 5 and 6

Chapter 5
Sao Luis, Brazil
The sun was high in the sky as the boat made port in Sao Luis. Dante was scheduled to meet with Jose Eduardo Tavares Silva, one of the most powerful men in this part of the world at the time. Dante was adamant with Fiona that she leave the boat. She knew this couldn’t be good, though he had assured her at the start of this journey that he had put aside his past for her.
Fiona threw on a pareo over her bikini, grabbed her bag and sunglasses and left for the marketplace. She had stopped at every port and found some meaningless little trinket to keep as a journal of their trip.
The sun beat down on sand covered cobblestone. The market was full, and Fiona spoke no Portuguese. But the sounds of the language left her lost into her own imagination, and she seemed in a haze as she wandered past stall after stall of foods, clothing, and gifts. The smells enticed her and suddenly she realized just how hungry she was.
Just as her hunger pulled her from her reverie, she became suddenly aware of all the sights and sounds around her. Musicians playing in the shade of a building. People everywhere, pushing past her to get through the market. Children playing soccer off to one side of the crowd.
And shots being fired.
Fiona’s head whipped toward the direction of the boat, and she sprinted back to the marina, dodging past children and animals. She had never run that fast in her life for anything, but she knew in her heart what that sound meant. The wind caught her hat and ripped it from her head, but in her panic she didn’t even give it a second thought.
As she ran, she muttered to herself,
“No. He can't be hurt. Not after all this. If he is taken from me I will never live again.”
She made it back to the boat and found Dante on the deck, clearly injured.
Fiona collapsed onto the deck next to him, her eyes rapidly surveying the situation before her. She asked him breathlessly,
“How ..bad..is it?”
Dante smiled weakly at Fiona, and grimaced as he took a breath to speak.
(wincing from the pain)
“Not bad. I'll be fine. Nothing to worry about. Really, sweetness, it's just a flesh wound.”
Fiona, staring at the new hole in his leg, appeared unconvinced at his reassurance.
“I thought you left that life behind when we sailed away.”

“I did. There was a last minute loose end to tie up.”
He turned his head to the left, and Fiona followed his gaze. Silva was tied and spewing what could only be obscenities. Fiona stood up and grabbed an old shirt from her bag and used it to gag Silva. She then turned her attention back to Dante to help him. She had never gotten over the first time she had removed a bullet from her love. As she closed her eyes just now she could see it:
Fiona and Dante were in a barren Paris apartment. Dante was weak from the pain, and Fiona was removing the bullet that was lodged deep in his shoulder. There was blood all over his white undershirt, and all over Fiona's hands, making it hard to use the very basic surgical tools she had. He had been shot in the back of his right shoulder, defending her. She had never forgotten that she owed him her life.
As she shook off the memory, Fiona pulled him close to her and vowed silently to never let him go. He finished wrapping the injury, and stood up slowly. He walked over to Silva as he was attaching the silencer to his gun. One shot. Done. Loose ends tied up.
Dante took a swallow of rum from his flask to kill the pain, and then picked Fiona up in his arms and carried her, despite the searing pain in his leg. He brought her to bed, and he was different with her this time. Rather than the hard, passionate, intense love he was generally known for, he took his time with her.
The next morning, Dante was startled awake by the sound of a tugboat horn and sat up with a sudden jerk. His recollection of the night before made him smile as he turned to see the empty berth beside him. Shaking off the morning, he got up and realized Fiona was not on board. Climbing carefully up to the cockpit he glanced out, his eyes squinting on the morning light.
“Fiona?”
He limped back down below and that’s when he saw a note attached to the portside settee.
Dante,
Last night brought me someplace I thought I had always hoped for, and you have brought me to places I've never seen before. For that I will be eternally grateful. I apologize for leaving this way but I cannot continue down the road we’re on.
I hope you understand.
All my love, FP.
Dante crumpled the note and threw it to the floor. His jaw set in its usual sharp angle, he furrowed his brow in concentration. He didn’t understand what just happened; he knew that Fiona had been falling for him over the years and that their relationship had changed dramatically with the beginning of their current journey. But he was certain that this was exactly what she wanted. It was becoming clear to him that he simply did not understand his sweet Fiona.
“Dammit.”
He took a quick shower and made his way to his 1980 BMW R-series motorcycle that he kept parked in town. His eyes scanned the marketplace to see if Fiona found her way there. Suddenly, the sound of bullet piercing a stucco wall was heard as it ricocheted off the wall next to Dante. He leapt behind a fruit cart and pulled out his gun. Another shot was heard as it hit a watermelon by Dante's head. His eyes darted around in an attempt to find the shooter.

“Where are those shots coming from?”
Dante continued to look around, his eyes skimming the crowd and the upper windows surrounding the market. The shooter remained hidden in the shadows, and as Dante’s attention was turned toward the windows, slowly brought his gun out straight, pointed it at Dante's head and pulled the trigger. A shot rang out and Dante turned to see the shooter, now with blood trickling down his forehead, as he fell to the ground revealing Fiona Patrick holding the smoking gun. Dante looked at her incredulously, and the furrowed brow grew deeper. She lowered her weapon and raised one eyebrow.
“What would you do without me?”

Chapter 6

Dante stood before Fiona, dumbstruck at what he was hearing. He began to pace the floor as he attempted to piece it all together.
“So, are you saying that...no. You couldn't have been. I just- I - I don't understand.”
Fiona gave a little smile, and stood up, reaching her arms out to stop Dante's pacing. With one hand on each of his forearms, she could feel his strength.
“You needed watching over. The agency knew it, and I agreed. I never expected to fall for you. Sleeping with you was an acceptable risk, but the rest I had never bargained for.
“So, you were at all of them?” Dante returned to pacing as he questioned this woman who he thought he knew.
“Yes, all of them.”
“And those trips into the markets when we made port?”
“All jobs given to me by the agency.” Fiona took a deep breath as she watched him pace in the very small room on the boat. She knew he would find this out eventually, he was too resourceful.
“And all the times you asked me to stop? Was that real, or just part of your orders?” Dante was angry, and Fiona knew that she would only be able to say so much to bring him back.
“I did- no, I do want you to stop. I care too much to watch you continue this life. For me, this was the only way I knew to live. But you deserve better.”
“So, you're not really a supermodel? I don't understand, I went to the photo shoots. I saw the magazines. You were on E Network, for crying out loud!!”
Fiona stopped him again, this time holding him more firmly. She looked deep into his eyes as she responded.
“You know how far the agency reach was. You know what they're capable of. I mean, Jesus, they put that idiot in the White House just to fool the terrorists into thinking we didn't know what we were doing. That takes serious power.”
Dante took a long hard look into Fiona’s perfect face, searching for some sign that she was pulling his leg. As hard as he looked, no such sign appeared.
“How long has this been going on?”
Fiona dropped her gaze to the floor, her long hair falling to the sides. Without realizing what she was doing, she began twirling a section of hair on her finger.
“Longer than I care to admit.”
Dante stopped questioning her, and tried to wrap his head around the truth. Everything he knew was built on a fallacy. And he was angry about that. Yet, when he thought about all that he was sure she must be capable of, he realized that it was quite a thought. He imagined her in training, and suddenly saw a bright side to the situation. He placed one finger under her chin and lifted her face toward his. He took a moment to gaze at Fiona, searching her face once more for some sign of a practical joke. There was admiration and respect. There was something else, though. A twinkle in her eye. She had always been great at reading his mind. Dante wondered if she knew where his mind had wandered the moment before.
Testing his theory, he grabbed her hard and pulled her in for a kiss. Only this time it was no gentle, soul-searching kiss. It was firm and it made sure she knew that he was in charge of her. She followed his commands easily and let him pick her up and shove her body into the wall as she wraps her long muscular legs around his waist. He leaned into her, and she pushed back with the same strength and enthusiasm as was to be expected from a woman in her line of work. He held her there, against the wall, continuing to push against her, as he reached down with one hand and ripped open her gauzy cotton blouse. Fiona moaned, arched her back into his motion, and her eyelids fluttered gently as her eyes rolled upward. Dante let out a growl as he continued to ravage every inch of her. Fiona obliged and was as much a brutal animal as he was.
The sun filtered in through the curtains and before she even opened her eyes Fiona knew that he was not there. She rolled over in bed and reached out to confirm this. The night before was...more than she thought possible. She and Dante had been lovers for many years, but something was different now. Now that he knew who she really was. She dreaded the possibility that he might put the pieces of the puzzle together and figure out the rest, but she would have to just be more careful from here on out. They had already decided that the agency shouldn't find out about this, so her secret was safe from him a little longer.
Her cell phone, set to vibrate, began to dance about on the shelf by the bed. She looked at the number. Crap. This was not good. If they found out that she lost him....
“This is Fiona.”
The female voice on the other end of the line sounded impatient.
“Where is he now?”
Fiona cringed at the thought of lying to the Agency, as that was something that usually did not end well. She cleared her throat and answered in a more hushed tone to support what she was about to say.
“He’s sleeping.”

The voice sounded even less patient than it had a moment ago. In fact now it was just angry.
“Why didn't you do it? You had orders.”
“The time was wrong. Too many civilians. Don't worry.”
“You have a job to do. We do not appreciate the delay. Take care of it.” The click on the other end of the phone was a stark reminder of her duty to the agency.
Fiona set down her phone with a wistful look on her face. She knew what she was supposed to do, and now that she had come all this way it was harder than she thought. She got out of bed, and took a bottle from the icebox. If there were ever a time for this, she thought. She poured herself a glass of rum and shot it back like it was nothing. The burning on her lips woke her up and she looked around for Dante.
She breathed a sigh of relief when she found him on the deck. He had a look on his face she had seen before. She stood behind him and cleared her throat.
“Dante- let me-“
“No. Don't. Everything I knew about you was a lie! How can I trust you again?”
Fiona took a hesitant step toward him, knowing better than to go any further.
“Because I was brought in to watch over you. It's the very reason you must trust me. And I ...” She looked down at her hands, suddenly nervous.
“No. Don't say it. Don't do this. You know as well as I do that it will only make this worse. You knew what this was when you agreed to it. You knew not to get emotionally involved.”
She snapped her head up to face him, and set her jaw in a determined manner.
“I know, I just-- you're right. You're always right, aren't you? We had an agreement, and I am a woman of my word...”

Studying Dante, chapters 3 and 4

Chapter 3

July 28, 2008, Santa Cruz

Fiona knew she had to see Dante again. It was not only inevitable, but necessary for her sanity. Dante had always confused her so; when she was with him she was euphoric and when they were apart she felt inconsolable. It went against everything that made any sense to her in this world. She found the nearest payphone, pulled her only remaining quarter from her pocket, and as always, checked to see which state was represented. She smiled; it was from New York, the city she used to call home before it had all gone wrong for her.
Fiona popped the quarter into the slot on the front of the phone and dialed. Her heart sped up as she waited for him to answer. Without realizing it, her right foot tapped impatiently on the sidewalk. What seemed to be a lifetime turned out to be four rings, and he finally answered in his own way:

“Dante.”
Her heart skipped a beat when she heard his voice. She had called him from a payphone so that he would have to answer. She knew that when he didn’t recognize the number he would pick up, in case he was being given instructions on a job.
“You know who this is.”
She realized she sounded somewhat breathless, but it couldn’t be helped. This was the effect he had on her.
“I was waiting for your call. I wondered how long you would wait.”
Dante had an amused tone to his voice. Fiona knew he was only teasing, but still played the game right along with him.
“Well, the wait is over. Where are you?”
Dante chuckled as he answered, “On my luxury yacht, sailing, drinking; leading the life of a millionaire. Where are you?”
Fiona paused, unsure of how much she was ready to tell him. “I had a …job. I’m finished with that now. What are you doing tonight?”
“Wishing I wasn’t thinking of you…your long hair, sinfully soft skin, those green eyes..” Dante trailed off, and it was clear he was lost in thought.
Fiona began to get a little anxious. “When can I see you again?” She knew what his answer would be, and suddenly wasn’t sure she should have called him at all.
“Meet me for coffee in ten minutes around the corner.”
Fiona was taken aback as she asked him, “Around the corner from where?”
“Around the corner from where you are standing right now.” Dante had a hint of a smile in his voice now, and Fiona whipped her head around to see where he was. Dante laughed out loud now. “I don’t know why you bother with that. You’ll never find me. See you in ten.”

Fiona would never get used to his ability to find her, no matter where she was. During their four days together, so many ideas had been discussed. Not the least of which was the idea of running off together. The very thought of it made her heart skip a beat. She had brushed it off at the time, laughing it off as if it was the silliest thing in the world. The sun was setting and a light rain had settled in as she looked for the coffee shop he spoke of. It was that time of day that makes it quite hard to distinguish the features of faces passing by, which made Fiona even more anxious. The street began to fill with people heading out for late meals, and the fluttery feeling in Fiona’s stomach was mirrored in the buzz of new activity. One by one, light from the streetlamps landed on a tall figure heading toward her. Their time together suddenly seemed as though it had been a lifetime away, and now she wasn’t sure she could believe her eyes. Was this really him, walking toward her? After all they had been through, would this really be so easy? This man, who had been more perfect than she had thought possible, was getting closer and her stomach lurched a bit with every step. Her excitement grew by leaps and bounds, and for a brief moment she doubted he would stop walking when he got to her.

Dante gave his signature half smile when he was close enough to be sure that she would see him. Their high-velocity relationship had been a little much for him at times, but as Fiona came into focus so did his purpose. A sense of calm filled him for the first time in his recent memory. Only when he was with her did his jaw unclench, and his eyes soften. He stood very close to her now, and after leaning in for a soft kiss he said,
“I’m so glad you could meet me. Our time together got me thinking…”
Fiona looked lost in thought for a brief moment, and within that instant shook away whatever was distracting her.
“You’re up to no good again, I’m sure.”
Dante smiled, and Fiona was certain she saw a twinkle in his eye. He reached into his inside jacket pocket and pulled out two pieces of thick paper. Fiona saw the small print on one of the papers, and wondered what Dante was up to.
“I have a surprise for you, sweets. Can you leave town?” As he spoke, he handed her one of the papers. It was a plane ticket. Her eyes attempted to focus on the words despite the darkness surrounding her, though her heart began to thud so loudly in her chest she couldn’t read a word.
She looked deeply into Dante’s eyes. Was she sure? She had given this a lot of thought over the years, and while she was absolutely petrified, she knew she had to do this. She slipped a hand softly into his, gently caressing his fingers with hers. No, she was absolutely certain of this.
Fiona nodded at him, all the while matching his gaze. His eyes spoke volumes of what he had gone through for her, to bring her to this place. The scars he bore would be his burden forever, and for that she carried tremendous respect. She had a hard time deciding whether she would ever see him the same way again. He was finally ready to give her everything she had been hoping for. For that matter, he was actually able to show her the attention she’d been craving. The day she hoped for was finally here.
Yet, as much as she wanted this to happen there was a voice in the back of her mind reading her the riot act for what she was preparing to do. There was a reason they had met, she knew that to be true. But had she forgotten what that reason was?
Dante watched as Fiona fought her emotional battle in front of him. His brow furrowed as he began to question whether she would come with him after all. He had moved mountains to make this happen, and now it seemed to teeter on the edge of possibility.

Chapter 4
Several hours later, on a boat near the Caribbean, Fiona had forgotten all of her concerns about her future with Dante. She stretched out on the deck, in a bikini she bought on the way to the airport. Dante hadn’t told her where they were headed, just that she would need the bathing suit.
Dante watched her with adoration and a touch of alarm. It still amazed him that she could make him feel this way. What he didn’t know is that he still had the same effect on her. He would never know that whenever they spoke, she had butterflies in her stomach. That she was constantly terrified of making some silly mistake in front of him, that she wanted to always be perfect for him. She put an immense amount of time and energy into her appearance, her mannerisms. What she didn’t realize, and wouldn’t for several years, was that her quirky behavior still came through, and Dante adored it.
Dante watched as Fiona put on suntan lotion. He had always enjoyed watching her perform her various little rituals, though he never told her this. Why hadn't he, he wondered. After everything they'd been through, after she left her job for him. Maybe in not telling her how he felt, he avoided getting too comfortable with her. He’d loved the secrecy of it all, and was pretty sure he would miss that part of who they were. But here they were, together forever. They were sailing around the world, and at some point he would have to let down his guard.
From Fiona's vantage point on the deck she can see Dante watching her. She carefully, artfully applied tanning lotion they'd picked up on the way. She made sure to slowly stretch out each leg as she seductively applied a layer of lotion. When she finished, she leaned back in the chaise, and looked up at him. Her smile went on for days. Thinking of their plans together, she realized that she had given up her entire world for him. A job she loved (meeting all those movie stars was a perk), friends, family. But they were soulmates. Soul mates who, among millions, somehow found each other. When others had tried and failed, somehow Dante, International Spy, could behold Fiona Patrick’s perfect face and feel as though her were holding a cherished Michelango. A work of art.
As Dante’s attention returned to the helm, he gazed upon this long-lost treasure.
(to himself)
“Miles of ocean. Years of counter-terrorism ... is this where it all leads?”
Fiona glanced back to Dante, her smile accented by a small, unrubbed amount of sunscreen.
Dante’s world seemed to lurch at the sight of her smile. He would never be prepared for that feeling. He couldn’t help but mutter to himself,
“When it all seems to level off. when the sails are set and the rudder seems to have found its way. How can one small island, a peninsula, as it were, so disrupt my journey?”
As if to accent the thoughts in Dante's mind, Fiona made her way to the back of the boat and settled into the warmth and security of the helm. She looked at him and gave a serene smile, and a deep sigh.
“A penny for your thoughts.”
Fiona wrapped a towel around her shoulders as she said this, absent mindedly twirling a section of hair around one finger.
“A million pounds would not suffice.”
Dante’s response caused Fiona’s head to snap toward him, and she raised one eyebrow at his response. She had always had difficulty reading him, and now was no exception.

Studying Dante

Chapter 1

March 3^rd, 1998, San Francisco:

On Pier 15 on a chilly and foggy night, a tall, brooding man stood on the weathered wooden planks, looking down at the old man lying lifeless at his feet. He took a cigarette from the silver holder he carried in his pocket and lit it. Taking a deep inhale, he contemplated whether to leave the body there and walk away. His brow furrowed at having to even make this decision. This job was really starting to get to him, though he knew that removing such a dangerous man from the streets of San Fran was a good thing. He decided to dump the man into the bay and leave it at that. The water here was so murky, he would never be found. And he would certainly never be missed.

After rolling the body into the water, he stood up, brushed his hands off. At that moment he heard a noise. As if someone watching had stumbled from their perch. He looked up at the tops of the shipping containers and, seeing nothing there, wondered if he imagined it.

The only light on the dock landed on his face and showed his chiseled jaw line, stark blue eyes, and a slight scruff of beard on his face. He pulled the collar of his coat up slightly to fight off the cold ocean air. He had always enjoyed the water, but not this far north. He preferred a warmer climate.

Deciding he really had heard nothing he pulled his phone out of his pocket and called his boss. Once he heard the phone on the other end of the line pickup, he simply said,

“It’s done. I’m out.”

The tired look on his face betrayed him, showed just how this job was wearing on him. He had always been alone through this, could never attach himself to someone for fear of actually sharing emotions with someone. It was so much easier to do this job when he never had to deal with actual feelings. And surely, he had convinced himself, it would be too dangerous for anyone who dared get close to him.

He just had not planned on her, the woman who would forever alter his existence.

Chapter 2

July 22, 2008, Santa Cruz

Feeling the need to relax in her outdoor hot tub on a perfectly cool summer evening, Fiona Patrick walked to the edge of the tub and lit the candles she had placed around its perimeter. She dropped her robe on the floor, and eased into the water. Pushing the jets button, she leaned against the side and lowered herself into the bubbling water. Closing her eyes, she leaned her head back and remembered him: Dante, the almost absurdly handsome hit man. She remembered the last time she had seen him. She had left him in Monaco, wanting more of her. Smiling, she reached up to pull her hair into a twist and clipped it out of the way of the water. Suddenly she heard footsteps approaching. She didn’t need to turn around to know exactly who she would find. He had been on her mind every day for a long time, and she had heard him walk across this floor on many an evening.

He stood behind her, enjoying the view.

“Fiona. It’s been too long.”

Fiona set her jaw slightly, feigning her disdain for the fact that he had shown up here again.

“I never wanted to see you again.”

Dante smiled at this, knowing that their little cat and mouse game had begun yet again.

“Never?”

His eyes twinkled at this, and she could hear the smile in his voice. She turned her head just slightly to the left, so that she could just see his frame over her left shoulder. Taking this as an invitation, Dante unbuttoned his shirt, revealing the chiseled, muscular torso that Fiona found so breathtaking. With one quick motion, he had removed his black leather belt and allowed his trousers to fall gracefully to the floor. She heard him slide his Italian leather loafers off, one foot at a time. She had forgotten how much he enjoyed this little game of theirs.

Dante slid into the hot tub facing Fiona and gave her a half smile. She raised one eyebrow at this, and asked,

“Are you planning something, Dante?” He leaned in close to her, until he was only an inch from her face.

“Yes, my love, I have a plan.”

The kiss he brought her was no less passionate than every one that had come before. He had a talent for making her forget where she was or what she was supposed to be doing with those kisses. She had never understood how he managed to make her lose track of herself so easily. She was not one to stop him, either. She felt herself start to forget again, and she pulled herself away before it was too late. He looked at her and smiled, raising one eyebrow at her,

“Is something wrong, sweetness?” he asked her, with a hint of amusement in his voice. Fiona leaned back against the tub wall again, her head swimming from that kiss. With a deep, slow breath in to calm herself, she whispered only,

“Amazing…”

Dante smiled, and allowed Fiona to remain in her reverie. How he enjoyed seeing her lost in her imagination like this. She was still amazed that he could make her feel so light, so dizzy, and so breathless. He was surprised that she hadn’t gotten used to him yet. The pair remained in the tub as long as they could, and then retired to her bed, worn out from the heat of the water and the heat they always felt whenever they were within three feet of one another. Dante made sure food was delivered regularly for them, and they only got out of bed when it was absolutely necessary.

Four days later, they were still in bed but Dante was aware of the world enough to enjoy the view. Wind gently blew the floor length sheer curtains and the sounds of the ocean reached Fiona's ears as she slowly woke up. Dante watched her move from deep, restful sleep into this new, refreshed state of being. As she opened her eyes upon his face, she realized that Dante was the only person she ever wanted to wake up to. She smiled as she stretched that first perfect full-body stretch of the day.

“You never told me your plan.” Her words felt slightly blurred to her, as she tried to focus on his face.

She lazily draped one arm across his as she said this, and her hand rested such that she could playfully run her fingers through his short hair. She gradually became more awake, and he smiled at her inability to wake up quickly.

“I have to go, I’m sorry.” Dante’s face was suddenly serious as he said this.

Fiona's face fell, although she was used to hearing this from him. She nodded without answering him and looked up to him for a kiss. Dante leaned in to kiss her and then got out of bed. She wrapped herself in the soft, 300-thread count cotton sheets Dante had bought for her, and sat up to watch him get dressed. This always made her a little sad; the pair would have the most incredible escape from the world and suddenly the journey was over and he was leaving.

Dante turned to look at his beautiful Fiona and she thought for a moment she saw his face falter. He quickly recovered, of course, and just gave a little half smile. Fiona lied back down on her bed, and replayed the last four days in her head.

Halloween ... a.k.a. The Best Holiday Ever

Something strange takes over my brain around this time of year. My evil alter-ego takes over, and suddenly I discover that I have covered my front porch in gigantic furry black spiders, more cobwebs than any one person needs, evil disembodied heads, and ghosts, ghouls, and tombstones.

For much of my life I have been deathly afraid of masks. I don't really know why, but every year when all the masks come out at the stores I am immobilized. Yet there is something about covering the house in everything "haunted house" related. I can't be stopped, I keep buying more, and I fear my next move might be something like a zombie on my porch roof.

It doesn't help that no one else on my block decorates. I don't exactly feel the need to make up for their lack of decor, it's more like I feel driven to irritate the crap out of them. Sorry. I do the same thing at Christmas, but I don't put all the weird giant inflatable reindeer and teddy bears out like someone I know. But Halloween particularly elicits this response from me, and I just can't figure it out. Why on earth I would be so fascinated with spiders (of which I am also deathly afraid, thank you very much) and severed heads and the like is beyond me.

It also doesn't help that with every group that comes near our house I hear murmurs of "ooh, look at that" or "wow those pumpkins are amazing". When someone like me gets encouragement like that from people she doesn't even know, well it just exacerbates the situation.

So, pardon me for luring miniature future politicians in costumes onto the three hundred block. Believe me, it's a giant pain in the ass for me too. But oh, how I adore bringing out all the holiday accoutrement. I don't even mind having to find places to store it all. If I have made one person's bad day turn around due to my mummies, vampires, witches, pumpkins, spiders, and ghosts, then I have done my job. Happy Halloween, all, and stay safe.
p.s. enjoy the barrage of horror movies that are on this week!!

Redefining definitions

Every now and then you come across a word that just BEGS to be redefined. Here are some of my favorites. Some of them are not really words in the first place, I'm fairly certain.
1) Fallimento... from the Mob Wars application in Facebook. In this app, it means that you can't place a bounty on yourself.
In my loopy brain, I think it means an indecent sexual act from a minty fresh candy.
2) Non-Filer Syndrome... a clinical definition given to government employees who have evaded paying taxes, claiming that they are depressed.
I think it's what applies to those freaks you see in the Guinness Book of World Records that have ridiculously long fingernails.
3) Sobriquet (pron. so-brick-ay).. means nickname.
I think it means a game of croquet for members of AA. Okay that's a long shot, but I had to take it.
4) Cosmopolite...means a cosmopolitan person (makes sense)
I think it sounds like a very friendly alcoholic drink.
5) Numismatics... the collection and study of coins
I think it applies to all the freaks who put up videos of themselves lip-synching to that Numa Numa song.

Girls In Reality Like Sports (G.I.R.L.S.)

You have no idea how many tries it took to come up with that GIRLS thing. Geez. It's been a long, crappy day in Upstate New York, so pardon me if I'm not at my prime.

So here's the thing. I mean it when I say I like sports. Specifically, baseball, football, basketball, hockey, soccer.... okay I think you get the point. MORE specifically, I am a rabid BoSox fan and I enjoy a Patriots game or two. What? I live in NY, I'm a girl, now you're whole world is crumbling down around you... how can this all be?!?!

Okay, so I was raised by a fairly competitive woman who, as she reads this, is saying "Moi? Competitive? I don't know what you mean...". But she is, and as a result I HATED competition when I was in my formative years. You know, had to do the opposite of my parents. Teen Angst. All that Psych 101 bullshit.

Last year one of my friends (YES, YOU Sarah) taught me about football when she came to my house. We watched an entire New England Patriots game, and by the second half of the game, I was cheering at all the right times, and looking frustrated at all the right times too. She seemed pleased with this situation, and I was just damn impressed that I had sat through an ENTIRE football game. I hadn't done that since high school, when I was in marching band. Oh, boy. I just admitted to you that I was a band geek. Crap.
Shortly after this, say in the spring, Sarah was also responsible for my enjoyment of the Red Sox. I lived in Boston for a few years, even lived within three blocks of Fenway. Never ONCE did I go to a game. I'm now kicking myself for that, since my new goal is to shell out $300 for dugout seats. But I will do it, mark my words.
It's funny to me when people are surprised that I like baseball or football. I realize that being a fan is known as a "guy" thing, but the fact is, I find it really enjoyable. I don't have the ability to rattle off stats the way men can, but the minute Dustin Pedroia steps up to the plate, I know who it is even before I've seen his face, just based on the way he holds the bat. I know all of the routines the batters go through during each at bat. I know that Kevin Youkilis plays first base really well, but that whenever Mike Lowell is on the DL he can switch to third and he's great there, too. I know that Jason Varitek is the best catcher ever, and a very bright team captain. And I know that Jonathon Papelbon is a force to be reckoned with.
I love talking Red Sox with anyone willing to listen. Problem is, I live in New York. Not too many fans around here. Not only that, but you can't find a game on tv unless it happens to be on TBS, or ESPN. Or it's Postseason and they're in the championship. Speaking of which, I really REALLY hope they come up with a new motto next year. If I had heard "There's only one October" one more time I would have to hurt someone. It's the dumbest thing I've ever heard.

Watching them NOT win the ALCS was painful. Really painful. Here's the difference between men and women. I wanted to cry, but was worried my hubby would mock me ceaselessly. Now that I've opened it up to the public, of course, I am open to your ridicule as well. Damn. Why do I keep doing that?!?

Anyway, long story short, I LIKE SPORTS. And I'm planning on teaching non-sports fans about the joys of baseball. Watch out, men in sports bars around the country. Women are hanging out there, too, and we don't want to get hit on, we just want to watch the damn game.

Ridiculous "News" Headlines

Every now and then I start to feel guilty about not being fully aware of the happenings around the world. When this nagging little feeling starts to really get to me, I will read the "news".

I have learned over the years not to necessarily trust the news, as it is rarely impartial. So instead I have decided to revel in the ridiculousness of it all, and today will celebrate the absurd.

1)

Britney Spears' driver's license case dismissed

LOS ANGELES (AP) - The criminal driving-without-a-license case against Britney Spears in Los Angeles has been dismissed. A mistrial was declared Tuesday morning when jurors said they couldn't come up with a unanimous decision following two full days of deliberations. Jurors were deadlocked 10-2 in favor of acquitting the pop singer of any wrongdoing. A couple of hours later, prosecutors said they would not pursue the criminal case further, and the case was dismissed.

It must be nice to be famous. 'Nuff said.

2)Dallas hospital bills woman who never saw a doctor
DALLAS (AP) -- A woman says she waited 19 hours at Parkland Memorial Hospital's emergency department for treatment of a broken leg and never did get to see a doctor - but still got a bill for $162. Amber Joy Milbrodt, who said she broke a bone in her leg while playing volleyball, received the bill two weeks after her Sept. 24 visit....


I totally believe this. When I took my husband to the ER for stitches, we waited four hours, and I had said to the nurse, I bet it'll be fifteen stitches and he needs a tetanus shot. The ER Doc popped his head into the room (not his whole body, just the head) and said "He needs fifteen stitches and a tetanus shot". We never saw him again. The ER billed us $300 and then the doctor's billing service billed us another $300. I paid the first one, and sent a zinger of a letter in place of my check to the second one. Interestingly enough, they were happy to write off the bill.

3)

Woman accused of tending bar in the buff

ALTON, Ill. (AP) -- It's a different take on belly up to the bar. A 24-year-old female bartender in the Mississippi River community of Alton was charged with misdemeanor lewd entertainment after apparently working in the buff. Police arrested the woman last Friday at the Pub Room after someone called to complain.

Authorities said the woman had managed to put on a shirt before officers arrived.

It's not the first time it's happened in that area.

Last month in nearby Jersey County, a 33-year-old bartender at The Cabin Incorporated in Delhi was charged with public indecency after sheriff's deputies found her working nude.

That county's liquor regulators subsequently suspended the tavern's liquor license for 30 days and fined its owner $500.

Now, here's what I want to know: WHO called to complain about the nude 24 year old bartendress? Or maybe a better question is, how ugly was she? I mean I know a lot of guys, and NONE of them would make that phone call.

4)Man nabbed with frozen shrimp bags down his pants
BRADENTON, Fla. (AP) -- Authorities said a man tried to steal several bags of frozen shrimp from a supermarket by hiding them down his pants. The Manatee County Sheriff's Office reported that an off-duty detective was shopping at a Sweetbay supermarket Sunday when he noticed what appeared to be a man with groceries stuffed in his pants....

Wow. I don't know if I could write anything here that is any funnier than the headline alone.

5)

School's fundraising pitch gives alumni the blahs

FRAMINGHAM, Mass. (AP) -- An attempt to reach younger donors with a breezily written letter that uses the word "blah" 137 times has some Framingham State College alumni questioning the school's professionalism, judgment and ... blah, blah, blah.

The Sept. 5 letter, signed by the president of the school's alumni association, was sent to about 6,000 recent graduates who hadn't donated to the school. It used standard fundraising pitches, interspersed with sentences of nothing but "blah."

"With the recent economic downturn and loan crisis, it has become even more important for Framingham State College to receive your support. Blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah," one part of the letter read.

Christopher Hendry, the school's vice president of college advancement, told the MetroWest Daily News of Framingham he approved the letter, which he said was written in a marketing style expected to appeal to younger donors.

Alumnus Ken Shifman, a 2003 graduate, said the letter "insults the intelligence" of alumni.

Wow. I know I said that about the previous story, but ..

The Search for Perfect Pores

I know I can't be the only person who looks in the mirror each day and sees all the horrifying things about her face ... the things that NO ONE ELSE sees unless they're looking at their own face. If I was alone in that, the beauty industry would not be a multi-million dollar industry. The money we spend to look and smell good, for our own sakes as well as the sake of others, is truly astounding.

For me, the issue has always been - you guessed it! My PORES. Every day we are bombarded by pollution, exhaust, dirt, and it all piles into our pores like a family taking shelter from the storm. And unless you wash your face at least twice a day, that little family is in there for the long haul.

I don't know about you, but at the end of the day, as I'm stumbling bleary-eyed to bed (because I've been on Facebook too damn long), I don't honestly remember to scrub those pores every night. I'm too tired. And I pay the price for it.
And frankly, over the years I have shelled out a shameful amount of money on skin care products designed to clean out your pores, shrink your pores, reduce fine lines, make your skin brighter, etc...
And do you know how many of them worked? Take a guess. Right now, while you're sitting reading this instead of working... take a guess.


that's right.... none.

Until now. I splurged, spent a little MORE money, went to my favorite beauty site Sephora.com, and picked two real gems. I wasn't flying blind mind you. Every time you order from Sephora, they let you pick three free sample products. It's so much fun! And the joy is, the last batch I ordered had exactly what my face needed. So I went back and got the full-size product. I am here to unveil them to you.. right here, right now. To save you from the continued torture of spending money on products that DON'T WORK.
The first is made by Cosmedicine, and it's a self-adjusting exfoliator. You only use it twice a week, but while you're using it the scrubby parts start to dissolve, so you won't overdo it. It's fantastic!
The full name is Cosmedicine Medi-morphosis Self Adjusting Exfoliator, and it's $12.50 for 1.35 oz or $42 for 4.2 oz. This stuff went through clinical trials and the whole shebang.
(btw, am I the only one who thinks the term clinical trials sounds like juvenile court for meds?)

The other product is a lotion you put on twice a day. You have to make sure you use sunscreen with it, b/c it contains alpha hydroxy acids... but it's amazing. It doesn't shrink the pores, and any product that claims that is LYING TO YOU. It's physically impossible. But it reduces the appearance of large pores. Don't know why it works, but I know that after years of struggling I found something that DOES work, and I'm thrilled silly. Or just silly.
It's called DermaDoctor Picture Pore-fect, and it runs $40 for 1 oz. That's right. Ouch, I know. But you don't need very much at all, like a pea-sized amount will MORE than cover you.

Well, now you know my secrets. Run off, little ones, and scrub till you can scrub no more.... the results will make you smile.