The Vanilla Bean

This might be my first named cocktail since college. I actually don’t remember (and thus, it is likely I have named countless other cocktails). A shot or so of Smirnoff Vanilla vodka (my preferred brand when it comes to vanilla vodkas — trust me on this one), twice as much vanilla seltzer, and about a shot of coffee liqueur. Pour on ice, stir, enjoy. Now, I eyeballed everything so your results may vary.

I’m no mixologist — just a thirsty girl. But I have to say this is pretty refreshing; kind of like a sparkling iced coffee.

Do You Hear That?

Yeah, it’s the world’s smallest violin…

So, while dragging out the rest of my spring clothes, I noticed a box in the closet. I decided to look inside and holy cow — a folder full of papers, poems, stories, and misc. other writings from high school and college. Also the work I did during the grad course I took at Emerson and creative writing classes I took at the Adult Ed Center in Cambridge. It was wild going back, reading professors’ comments and encouragement, and thinking about the direction I thought my life was going to take. Also, I found the contact sheet from the summer I worked at the Dorset Theatre Festival (1997, in case you wonder). I was so excited and of course I immediately started Googling people I’ve lost touch with.

It’s bittersweet for me as I’ve read what they’re all up to. So many have gone on to have incredibly successful careers in theatre, film, and TV. One has her own production company. And, of course someone I am still very close friends with has done extremely well with his career in design (and I am so, so proud of him because I knew him waaaay back when and I know how hard he’s worked to get where he is). And here I am, never having gone back to get my MFA in creative writing like I’d wanted to do and planned to do. Doing virtually nothing that relates to my degree (sorry, but writing blog ads does NOT count as any kind of journalism). Most of it is because I’ve been lazy. I have no one but myself to blame for that, I am well aware. Some of it because I ditched Boston when I was considering applying to Emerson’s grad program. And naturally some of it because I’ve spent the last 5 years at home doing the mom thing.

I’ve spent the last few hours wallowing in a nasty bog of self pity. And we know how productive that is. So I am now absolutely determined to get back into writing and/or editing. I have found (thanks to Sherry) some sites with freelance opportunities. I need to start carving out time to work on my own goals and aspirations, and I don’t care if that comes across as selfish. For some reason, this year I’ve really been doing a lot of soul-searching and navel gazing and trying to figure out just what the hell I am doing with my life. I’m disappointed that I’ve let myself give up on some of my goals. There’s no reason for that. I deserve more than constantly wondering “What if…”


It was a gorgeous evening last night. After I put the boys to bed, I poured myself a glass of pastis (Ricard) and sat barefoot out on the deck, enjoying some peace, quiet, and the last of a beautiful spring day. God, I love this time of year.