Category Archives: Life’s Adventures

Discovering the Digital Library

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When I was younger, the library was a place full of magic. The endless rows of books held so many stories and tales and lives and characters that I couldn’t consume fast enough. The warm quiet of the building was a welcome respite from the chaos of a large family. I could wander through the stacks for hours, skimming titles and reading covers. I gathered books in my arms to check out while I perused, until I had so many that my muscles shook and books were tumbling off the pile.

I would check out five or six books at a time, piling them next to my bed. When I was younger, all I needed was a book and cozy nook to curl up for hours, lost in a whole new world.

I loved the smell of old library books. I loved the way the pages were a little yellow and the plastic cover crinkled when you opened it up. I loved the books with water-warped pages because I could imagine the reader sitting on the beach, not realizing how close the waves had crept up until they were upon her. I especially loved the books with a comment card paper-clipped to the back cover, where previous readers wrote their thoughts and noted their surprise or sadness or anguish over characters. I would sometimes choose a book based on these comments alone. I felt like I had a connection with the other anonymous readers – like we were, in some small way, the same, because we had both shared this book’s great adventure.

Then technology came and changed it all.

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Back in the Gym

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me_swimmingI am an athlete. Regardless of whether I’m on any sort of team, regardless of whether I’ve practiced recently, and regardless of the fact that I haven’t been in a pool in months, I will always call myself an athlete. I have the mentality that comes from twelve years of swimming. It’s the attitude and the drive and the determination that can only come from practicing six days a week, two, three, four, or five hours a day for half of your life.

So when I stopped working out for about six months straight, I started going crazy. Not at first- at first I enjoyed myself and my free time. I had just moved in to my new apartment, I was living in a new place, trying new things, hanging out with my boyfriend, meeting new people. I was starting a new job, which was stressful. I thought I was too busy to go to a gym after work, because after working all day, then cooking and eating dinner and cleaning up afterwords, when would I have time to unwind if I tried to throw a workout in the mix?

So for six months, I chose to relax. Looking back, I probably watched too much dumb TV and drank too much wine. But I enjoyed it for a time. I slowly started to feel sluggish though. I felt winded going up two flights of stairs. I felt slow and tired and saggy, if you will. My weight was the same, I generally looked the same as I always had, but I felt terrible about myself.

So starting in January, I bit the financial bullet and joined a gym. I made sure it was a gym I could walk to, that was open at the times when I needed it to be open. And I signed up for three months of personal training.

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Some Updates in the Works

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If you are looking for Measure with Coffee Spoons, you are in the right place.

I have been blogging less frequently lately, even though I said that my goal this year is to change that. My goal is to work on this blog, write more, and hopefully create something that is meaningful to myself and my readers.

In thinking about these goals, I decided it was time for a change on my blog. Not just a new post category or a new header photo or a new widget, but a real change. I bought took a big step and bought my domain name – measurewithcoffeespoons.com. I changed the theme – I wanted a more mature look that’s easier to read and navigate. I actually did a total overhaul of my post categories, so there are fewer and they’re more inclusive.

I’m not completely satisfied with the look just yet. You may still see some more changes, and don’t be surprised if you see a whole new theme. I’m still figuring out what I want and the best way to get it.

And in the end, this blog change seems to reflect my life in some ways.

I started this blog right out of college, wanting a place to showcase myself and my talents. I really just wanted to write and have someone read it. Now, I want to write and I want people to be able to find it. I want people to come across my website and want to read older posts. I want them to browse through photos and read the stories and get a feel for the whole picture, not just one post at a time. I’m hoping that whatever I finally decide on achieves this and really shows my growth as a writer and a professional.

Stay tuned!

A Snapshot of the Past Four Years

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A relationship is one spectacular journey. It is putting one foot in front of the other, sometimes uphill, sometimes down. There are rocky pathways and blue skies and lessons learned along the way. My journey has so far taken four years, side by side with the most amazing person I know.

When I was in high school, if someone told me I’d someday be dating someone for over four years, I’d say they were crazy. Back then, we thought that four months was a long time. In high school, you think the person you like to spend time with will become the person you date and then the person you marry, but the whole relationship escalates in just a few weeks and then there’s nowhere to go, so you both explode in an earth-shattering fight and call the whole thing off.

But real relationships are different.  Continue reading →

7 Awesome Things about Running in a New Neighborhood

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As you may or may not know, I have been haunting a new neighborhood lately. One more urban, more crowded and certainly more interesting. I’ve come to this neighborhood with plans and hopes and fears and dreams. I have ventured out into this unknown…

Part of my plan for exploring this vastly unfamiliar area is to run. After my first (and last) 5K, I stopped running for a little while. I figured I could celebrate my small and insignificant victory by taking a break. When I tried to start back up again, I was out of shape and my knees were bothering me. I needed to start slowly and that is hard. All I wanted to do was pick up where I’d left off.  Continue reading →

Some infinities are bigger than other infinities

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After Pennsylvania’s $60 million in film tax credits were renewed earlier this month, the first movie that was set to film in Pittsburgh using those tax incentives was The Fault in Our Stars, based on John Green’s novel. I figured I’d better read this if movie studios think it’s great enough to create a major motion picture.

I’m a big fan of books. I read just about every day and I fall asleep with a book in my hand. I cling to characters like family and read every word of the acknowledgements when I don’t want it to end. When they make a movie out of a book, I believe the book is almost always better.

I finished it in less than a week. I couldn’t stop turning the pages–I laughed and I cried and I went through half a box of tissues. It was just as good as the news articles and the Facebook posts had claimed it to be. I like cynical characters for some reason—characters who see the truth and harsh reality of a situation rather than the silver lining. So I fell in love with Hazel from the first page. And I fell in love with Augustus because he looked for that silver lining and tried so hard to get Hazel to see it. Continue reading →

The next 100,000 miles in a Toyota Corolla

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My parents’ driveway is filling quickly with aging and dying cars. I have recently added to the collection with a 2004 Toyota Corolla. A car with a whole other life–one in which the owner, a female, applied her makeup using the rearview mirror, fixed her hair at the red lights, took her mother to church, and went through the car wash every two weeks. Purely speculation of course, based on the small and insignificant fact that I found bobby pins still tucked in a slot under the dashboard.

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Anyway…I’ve been driving the car around quite a bit in the past week that I’ve owned it. It is either unfortunate that my commute to work is so long, or fortunate that now I have a beautiful little car to sit in for 45 minutes so I almost don’t mind. This car rides like a dream compared to some other piles of metal I’ve had the pleasure of sitting in that surprise me when they make it down the road.

My dad and I had started this car hunt rather abruptly, I felt. The old ’98 Lumina came back from the shop with a $1,000 price tag on repairs and we said no way, after I had shucked out $600 not long ago. Then before I know it, we’re out at the dealerships weaving in and out of the 2009 Chevys and 2003 Hondas.

When I think of the term “used car salesman,” first I think of Matilda’s portly father with his hat glued to his head, saying “I’m big, you’re small. I’m right, you’re wrong…” And then I think of the movie “Raising Helen” when Helen sells the ugliest green car in the lot and gets to take home a ham for all her trouble.

Either way, these sales people are wheelers and dealers, telling you anything you want to hear in order to sell you a car. And that’s exactly what it felt like when my dad and I met Uncle Leo.

Uncle Leo walked up right away when we got inside and said “Hello there, I’m Uncle Leo.” Even his business card identified him as “Uncle.” Trying to be remembered? It worked. I’ll never forget this guy… (He might also be memorable due his crazy eyes–I swear one of them was fake.)

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We saw this car on our first day of the hunt. It was not the first car, nor the last, but it was the only car I actually took out for a test-drive. It was slightly over-budget, had more miles on it than I would have liked, and we were not convinced at first. I was sure there would be something better out there. Uncle Leo told us that if he were actually my uncle, he would sell me this car, there isn’t any car out there better than this here car, this car would last another 100,000 miles… And on and on.

I couldn’t commit.

We went home, we looked online, I plugged numbers into Kelley Blue Book, I added up my bank accounts. Everything we saw online was comparable for that year and mileage. I thought and thought about it, getting more nervous and anxious.

That was a Saturday. On Monday, my dad and I met after work to head back to the dealerships, trying to rip the band-aid off in one quick tug.

My dad was set on a 2009 Chevy Cobalt he saw online. If it had been at the lot, it probably would have been the one. But we pulled in, asked the first salesman we saw and the words “Just sold it” echoed.

We ended up back at the dealership where I drove the Corolla. This time we asked more questions. I was just dying to say “Show me the CarFax” and almost hoping to see a fox puppet pop out from behind a cubicle. (Kudos to whoever designed those commercials. They got me.) And I actually did get to say it, in not quite the same words. The Corolla had not been listed online, for some reason. And of course, we wanted to see the CarFax. 

One owner. One minor accident, probably a small fender-bender. Taken to the dealership two to three times per year to get the oil changed. Traded in for an Acura at just over 100,000 miles.

“We’ll take it!” I almost shouted. My dad is giving me the evil eye. Apparently you don’t tell car salesmen you want something that enthusiastically. Don’t worry, though, I made up for it with my sad-puppy face when I found out the unanticipated tax and extra fees would actually put it far out of my budget and I couldn’t afford it. My dad tried to pound me on that, I think, when Uncle Leo said he’d go to his manager to see what he could negotiate.

We ended up getting a slightly better deal than the listed price. Even small victories make a difference when you’re buying a car.

So I now get to drive my little Corolla every day. I’m just loving the sun-roof, to be honest. I’ve never had a sun-roof before. And hopefully the car has a lot of miles left in its second life.

The street in front of our house has become a patchwork of transmission fluid, motor oil, and windshield fluid, mixed with a little WD-40. And actually, my new car is not contributing to that (yet). But sadly, the old Lumy has got to go. Soon.

The '98 Chevy Lumina, summer 2010

The ’98 Chevy Lumina, summer 2010

Fourteen Weddings

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As of yesterday, 14 of the 18 cousins I have on my mom’s side are married. And I have been lucky enough to attend 12 of those Ohio weddings, one of them as a bridesmaid.

My family has come to accept and love these weddings, looking forward to the next one as soon as the doors close on the receptions. I’ve always loved the romance of it all–the way the word “love” slips easily in between sentences and echoes through the church rafters. The way the bride and groom smile at each other and whisper during the first dance (I’ve always wondered what they talk about…) The way that seeing one couple happily starting their journey together makes all the other couples fall in love all over again.

941887_10201108533545574_682753255_nMy parents and siblings have been through a lot at these weddings. We know what to expect at most of them. We wait anxiously to see the dress the bride chose, craning our necks to watch her walk down the aisle (because inevitably we were late and are seated in the back along the wall). We ooh and ahh over the bridesmaids and the flowers and the centerpieces. We take advantage of everything offered and are usually one of the last to leave. We eat, drink, dance and use the little toiletries provided for the girls in the bathrooms. We play the name game and try to remember the names of all the cousins and who’s married to who. Then we start on their kids, but we’ve about given up at this point. The family is getting too big.

When I was younger, I was often too shy to dance much at the weddings. We would sit with our chairs facing the dance floor and watch our parents start doing the YMCA. Sometimes I would get up the courage to do the Chicken Dance, or to dance with my dad during a slower song. But I do remember they would play this funny song that sounded like, “Hang on Sloopy, Sloopy hang on, O-H-I-O.” (Anyone in Ohio will know what I’m talking about.) At first I would refuse to dance to it. I was extremely proud that I was from Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania and I wouldn’t be caught dead cheering for the other team. And then I went to a few more weddings and realized it was actually pretty fun. It was the one song where almost every single person in the room got up and waved their arms around.

When I was about ten or eleven years old, I suddenly and astonishingly got over my shy-ness for approximately three minutes. A slow song came on and I was tired of sitting on the side watching my mom and dad dance together without me. So I walked over to a boy about my age and asked him to dance. And he did. I had no idea who he was and had never spoken to him before. He was probably from the other side of the wedding party, because I never saw him again. But we have pictures of me dancing with this boy.

I had my first drink at one of the weddings, when I was about fifteen. I didn’t order it myself though because I couldn’t bring myself to say “Fuzzy Navel” or “Buttery Nipple” without busting out laughing and giving away my age. But there’s a picture of me and my cousin, Kimberly, arms linked holding our drinks high and proud. (She could order a Buttery Nipple without any problem.)

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERAThere was one wedding where the favor was a deck of cards at each place setting. My siblings and I played cards during the songs we didn’t want to dance to. At the end of the night, when most of the other guests had gone home and we were lingering with goodbyes, we snatched up a bunch of the decks that were left behind and stuffed our purses and pockets. We got home with about 25 decks of cards that say “Sarah & Matt.” Now I’ll never need to buy cards again, and I’ll always remember that Matt’s wife’s name is Sarah.

At another wedding, there was a photo booth in lieu of favors. We jumped in that booth over and over, whenever we saw it was vacant. The strips of pictures from that night still hang on our dresser mirrors, our goofy faces cheek-to-cheek in the tiny box. “Jennifer & Zachary” is pasted at the bottom of each strip, so we’ll never forget who Jen got married to either.

Some of the weddings had a “dollar dance” where you paid a dollar to dance with either the bride or the groom. I would beg a dollar off my dad and stand in line to dance with the groom, whom I had never met. (Maybe I was less shy at these weddings than I thought.)

525900_10150995743237357_838711366_nLast year I was honored to be a bridesmaid in my cousin Kimberly’s wedding. I met her friends and helped her get ready and held her dress in the bathroom. We rode in a limo and drank and danced and celebrated, and I got to see one of my closest cousins marry her best friend.

And yesterday, my cousin Nate got married. He has been bringing Jenna to family Christmases and Thanksgivings for years and it was truly wonderful to be at their wedding and see them so happy. My siblings and I didn’t play cards or the name game and I drank wine, so no need to worry about ordering Fuzzy Navels. But we danced all night and were still among the last to leave, enjoying every moment.

I wish Jenna and Nate all the best in their new life together, and the same for my other 13 married cousins.

Only four more cousins left–I wonder who’s next…

Just a little trip to Music City, USA

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My first visit to Nashville, TN– Music City, USA

It’s the home of country music. Otherwise known as “Music City.” Nashville.

It’s a city so full of intrigue that they made a whole television series based on its incredible drama.

And I got to see it! (I know this post is a little late. But better late than never right?)

IMG_0183Two weeks ago, I visited my friend, Kristen, who is going to school at Vanderbilt. I used some of my dad’s frequent flyer miles and got there for all of $35. A short weekend, but totally worth it.

The Nashville trip was wonderful. I hadn’t seen my friend since Christmas and we had lots to catch up on. Not to mention I love country music, I grew up on Garth Brooks, the Dixie Chicks, and Mary Chapin Carpenter, and I’m pretty much obsessed with the new hit show Nashville on ABC. I was so excited to visit this home of country that I could hardly contain myself.

I arrived at about 9 PM, Nashville-time, Friday night. (I was amazed to find that Nashville is an hour ahead of Pittsburgh. All this time I’d talked to Kristen on the phone and texted, I had never actually noticed and she’d never mentioned it. Shows my lack of knowledge about U.S. geography.) We only really had time to go out for a few drinks at a bar near her apartment that night, but that was perfect. We chatted until they closed the dining room and our server was trying to leave. Then we headed back to get some sleep before our big touring day.

Saturday morning Kristen took me out to breakfast and we started our day with mimosas and biscuits. (She said biscuits are a must in the south and I agreed. Delish!) We walked past a few shops where she said celebrities have been seen drinking coffee and such. Unfortunately we didn’t see any singers or celebrities but it was still fun to imagine.

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The Parthenon in Nashville, TN

After breakfast, we visited the replica of the Parthenon. I’m not sure why there is a replica of the Parthenon in Nashville. I mean, there is a story behind it, it was supposed to be a  temporary exhibit and then people loved it, blah blah… but it’s still so random. And people are there walking through it and taking pictures in front of it (myself included) as if it were the real Parthenon. Except it’s not. So it was weird. But pretty. It was located in this beautiful park and luckily it was a gorgeous day and the trees and flowers were blooming. But still…the Parthenon in Nashville? Whatever.

 

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Outside the Grand Ole Opry

So after that we went to see the Grand Ole Opry. We took some fabulous pictures of ourselves in front of the humongous guitars outside the theater and then we walked around the gift shop. We didn’t actually go into the Grand Ole Opry because tours were a little pricy and we had better things to see.

We drove back into the city to visit the much-anticipated Country Music Hall of Fame. For this, we actually did buy the tour tickets and walked through the whole thing. I hadn’t realized there would be so much country music and so many singers that I didn’t know and had never heard of. We looked through these exhibits kind of quickly, not wanting to read every little word about every single singer, so that we could get to the more modern country music.

(Side note: Kristen lost the back of her earring on the second floor of the museum. We saw it, unreachable, next to Webb Pierce’s 1962 Bonneville. Unless they’ve swept the floors back there since then, Kristen’s earring-back is currently preserved in the Hall of Fame.)

I took pictures of all the country stars’ exhibits that I know and love. It felt a little awkward taking pictures of one old guitar after another, old boots and million-dollar dresses that were probably only worn once. I don’t think those will be the pictures I’ll cherish from the trip. But for some reason I still felt the need to have photos of the things that once belonged to my idols.

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Taylor Swift’s guitar in the Country Music Hall of Fame

Of course the crowd around Taylor Swift’s flashy rhinestone-studded guitar was large, but we managed to get pictures with her belongings as well. They even had an exhibit for the TV show, Nashville, with Rayna’s and Juliet’s dresses (weird because those are not actually real people) and the original script signed by all the cast members.

After the Hall of Fame we headed to the pedestrian bridge, where they shoot the intimate, heart-felt scenes with Rayna and Deacon. Then it was on to Broadway! Now this street was magical, for someone who loves country music. It was 2:30 in the afternoon and country music is just spilling onto the street from every window and doorway. People are singing along, dancing in cowboy boots and drinking beer. So that’s exactly what we did, making our way from one bar to the next, stopping at a few souvenir stores along the way. We had dinner reservations at Pucketts and ordered their famous barbecue pulled pork. We walked past the Ryman Auditorium on the way but didn’t have time to stop in.

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The famous Bluebird Cafe

After dinner, we headed to the Bluebird Cafe. I expected this grand bar, but it was awkwardly situated in a strip mall next to a hair salon, a dry-cleaners and a children’s store. Unfortunately, we didn’t have reservations there and the stand-by line was too long to waste our time waiting in it. But I got some pretty great pictures outside!

Later that night, we went back to Broadway to enjoy more drinks and music with the late-night crowd. We went to Honkytonk Central and danced on the stage at The Stage. We made some friends and had a ball.

The next day, we slept in and relaxed, watching movies before I caught my flight back to my boring hometown of Pittsburgh.

Pedestrian bridge in Nashville

Pedestrian bridge in Nashville

 

For Those in Need of a Little Spring Flower Power

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Phipps Conservatory

Phipps Conservatory

What would your initial thought be if someone told you there was a building nearby, in your city, where they grow plants for people to look at? Like a zoo, but for plants. And flowers and herbs and whatnot, but basically plants. Wouldn’t you sarcastically wonder how interesting that could possibly be?

That would be about as interesting as watching paint dry. Or for our purpose…as interesting as watching grass grow. Right? I mean, let’s all go stare at plants, because that sounds super fun and definitely worth my money.

Well, there is such a building in Pittsburgh called Phipps Conservatory. And in this place, they grow flowers and plants and trees, solely for people to look at them. In wonder, or awe, or incredulity, or boredom. Whatever the case, this is a plant museum.

This past weekend was my first time visiting this plant museum. I brought my boyfriend, who was in town for the weekend, because I had heard a lot of good things about it (surprisingly, I thought). My brother has taken his girlfriend there around Christmas-time when they have their holiday display, my cousin recently took a trip there and talked about it at Easter dinner, and I even have a friend who used to work there. So I figured it might be more interesting than it sounds.

And it was.

The goal of Phipps is

“to inspire and educate all with the beauty and importance of plants; to advance sustainability and promote human and environmental well-being through action and research; and to celebrate its historic glasshouse.”

In my mind, I’d thought that it was solely a decorative luxury. But as we walked on the curving stone paths, through rooms filled with light and green and fragrance, I realized that the point of Phipps was a little bit more. Throughout the glass rooms, there were activities for children and plaques displayed, explaining the importance of “going green” and “sustainability.” One of the rooms was dedicated to fruit and herb plants, such as coffee and bananas and cherries, etc. There was a play “market” for kids where they could pretend to shop and sell (fake) fresh produce. There was a station (not active the time we were there) where kids would pot their own plants. The whole structure, inside and out, was to remind people that plants are important, no matter how small or large or unusual.

The Secret Garden

The Secret Garden

The featured exhibit that we saw during our visit was the Spring Flower Show: The Secret Garden. The flowers in bloom were incorporated into every display, every walkway, every path, every window and ledge and nook and cranny. It smelled divine. The conservatory was the smell of all the flowers in the world smashed into one building.

I just couldn’t believe how they expertly planted all these trees and shrubs and flowers to make it look like they belonged there forever. You couldn’t even tell that you were indoors anymore. The plants looked permanent, they looked like they were quite at home there. Some had grown over the pathway a little bit; some had grown tall and hung overhead. The only thing that reminded you that this was a greenhouse and not nature outdoors was the fact that every petal and every leaf was perfect. The deer hadn’t come by to nibble on the flowers, storms didn’t wash away the baby plants before they had strong roots, the high winds weren’t there to rip apart the leaves. The flowers were so perfect, they could have been fake. Which made it even more miraculous.

Inside the greenhouse was a world all its own. There were ponds and fish and bugs and little rodents, which I’m assuming is to keep the ecosystem in equilibrium and everything running smoothly. The rooms that were arranged in intricate garden pathways were exactly how I’d always imagined the secret garden in the book might have looked like. A place you could get lost in and not really care. You could just sit among the flowers and be lulled by their natural, flawless beauty.

I may sound like I’m getting a little carried away, but it has been cold and dreary for a long time. This flower show was just what I needed to pull myself out of the winter blues.

It’s not just a plant museum. It’s a magical garden show. But I would recommend going on a weekday if possible, to avoid getting stuck walking behind long trains of toddlers and badge-earning girl scouts.

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