This is Hamra Street. I live pretty close to this street, and it is usually where I head for dinner. I like Bread Republic because I can get a nice bowl of soup (lentille citron is favorite) and some slices of real bread. So good. Maybe that's where I will go tonight.

Details from the fancy and beautiful mosque in downtown Beirut. It is lovely, especially at night. The blue strip runs around the perimeter of the building, and is a chapter from the Koran. This mosque is actually pretty new; it was commissioned by the assinated Prime Minister Hariri, and only opened maybe two years ago.

A street in a more French-esque neighborhood with a lot of tiny restaurants and bars. I ate here once at a nice pizza place called Margherita. The best Italian-styled pizza I've had...since my trip to Italy seven years ago.

Here's that Mosque. Somehow my pictures got all jumbled. I am glad the picture turned out.

Beirut sits on top of ancient Beirut. (Kind of like Seattle, in a way.) This is a picture of some Roman baths that were unearthed. I hear there is a place for Turkish baths around here. I will have to see about indulging.

This is Rehani. He's in love with me, and for some reason I can't convince him otherwise. He is now back in Jordan, and I hope that distance will make the heart forget. (oh please, oh please) He's actually a great guy, and if he weren't a 20-year old muslim that didn't speak English maybe it would work out.

This is Rehani (again) with out barista Mansour, who likes to go by the name Vince. He claims it is an exact translation. I stated that I had no idea that "Mansour" meant "used car salesman" in Arabic. Yes, they are playing with knives. In the U.S. this would be grounds for dissmissal. Here...it's just good fun, even when someone does lose an eye.

Again with the knives. I think Rehani is just showing off. I didn't like this pose at first. (The guys tend to be mean to Rashid, but our dishwasher was eager for the shot. Boys. I just realized that I forgot to post another picture of Rashid. He is from Darfur, Sudan and has zero body fat. I was pretty sure he ran marathons when I first saw him. He's tough and wirey and could probably beat up just about anyone. Good thing he's about as gentle as a lamb. He speaks about three words of English, but with sign language, we manage to communicate rather well.

This is me the first day we opened. Oh, if I only knew what I had gotten myself into. For starters, the pants I am wearing are missing. I sent them out to be washed and they never returned. Now I wash my clothes by hand.

Smatterings of Frosting

Here is a selection of cakes I have iced while I've been in Beirut. I thought I had more photos to share, but I guess someone took pictures with their camera and not mine. Unfortunately, I did not have my camera when I iced special Saudi Arabia-themed cupcakes for the Saudi royal family. My boss took pictures, and maybe if we fast, pray and sacrifice a small animal he will remember to email them to me before I leave.

It's called shitta for a reason and other tidbits

Saturday night we had the mother of all rainstorms, minus the edifice-shaking thunder and lightning. Around nine o'clock I was sitting on my (cold) marble counter eating some Lebanese stew when I heard the skies open and water rush onto the city of Beirut. Curious, I walked a few steps to the bamboo room to take a peak at the goings on outside. (It is called the bamboo room because there is bamboo on the ceiling. Pictures to follow prior to the millenium.) Needless to say, I was grateful to be indoors because the rain was falling harder than I have ever seen before. Although it was night, I was able to make out the rain intensity thanks to the spotlights on the American University of Beirut's (AUB) belltower. It looked like buckets were being poured from the heavens as the water gushed from the cloud cover. I watched for about five minutes and returned to my stew that had gotten cold. (Don't worry I have a handy-dandy single burner to heat up my food. Oh yes, I am getting a kitchen one burner at a time!)

For some reason the walls in my room magnified the sound of the rainbombs (raindrops is too dainty of a term). Sleeping through the surround-sound of the storm did not make for easy sleeping and I had wierd dreams about cats at my friend Kelsey's house. (I am pretty sure Kelsey does not have a single cat; I think cats were on my mind because earlier in the evening I wondered what the city's million stray cats were doing to stay out of the weather. Yes, I wanted to bring one or five home with me.) During the dream I envisioned a leaky roof and shortly thereafter I woke up. At five thirty in the morning the rain was still as loud and strong as it was when I ate dinner. It had not stopped. I remembered my dream and decided it wouldn't be a bad idea to see if I had any leaks. After all, I do live on the top floor. Lo and behold, it turns out that my dream was indeed visionary because there was a river of water on the bamboo room's floor. My first thought was that one of the gigantic windows was not fully closed. Then I heard the drips. Oh no, this amazon came from the ceiling. I grabbed the mop and a bucket, and cleaned the floor, and then precariously placed my little red bucket to catch the rain on the inside of my apartment. I went back to bed, and woke up at 7:30, only to find another little stream had developed from a new spot while I was sleeping.

Fortunately the storm had stopped by the time I woke up. The sun was brilliant, and the sky was clearer than I had ever seen it in Bierut. (There is a pollution issue.) It didn't last, and it was raining again in a couple of hours, but just not as strong. It is still a little rainy, but definitely not as torrential.

Now for the tidbits:
1. Arabic words that make me giggle: shitta = rain; "key fuk" = "how are you" (to a male); ma'ass = scissors.

2. I have seen a few movies since I have been here, of course they are delayed. Some theaters are showing "Over Her Dead Body" and I believe that one is already on dvd in the states. Some movies are not that delayed, however. The best thing about the cinema is that it only costs about $6. I haven't payed that little for an evening film since high school. Plus you can bring in your take out meals. Plus it is all assigned seating. Yep, that means when Harry Potter 6 comes out I will only have to buy my ticket early to get the good seats. No need to elbow people for the best seats.

3. Lebanon is a cash-based society, and while the country has its own currency US dollars are widely accepted. I have the Lebanese currency, and the conversion down pretty well, but I get a little flumoxed at the bakery when people hand me a mix of currencies and I have to figure it all out. It seems that people prefer to carry the American cash, and the most popular denomination: the $100 bill. I have never seen so many grinning benjamins in my whole entire life. People consistently pay for their baked goods with one hundred dollar bills. Maybe it is just me, but I always feel a little awkward carrying large sums of cash, especially in large notes. Maybe I feel that if the bills are smaller, no one will know what I have (which never is a lot). Call me crazy, but I am good with $4o max in my wallet. Any more makes me nervous. Going to the cash machine is pretty interesting too, because you know how the withdrawal selections usually start at $20 and then go up? Here, they start at $100. I feels so conspicuous getting money out. I look over my shoulder to make sure no one sees me pull a $100 bill from the machine. The funny thing is, I am only pulling $100, and everyone else is taking a whole lot more. I have hung out with folks carrying an alarmingly high amount of dough. It's like I'm hanging out with drug dealers or the mafia. Don't worry, I'm not. It's just the society.

4. Lebanon is not a country filled with opium addicts. While I can't say that there isn't one or two hiding out somewhere, my first impressions of the country was that there was a good deal of opium getting smoked, and in public to boot. The misconception comes from the nargeleh or hubbly bubbly pipes/bongs/weird things with hoses that are ever present on sidewalks, cafes, and peoples' houses. Hubbly bubbly is some wierd flavored tobacco that gets inhaled through steam...or at least that's what I've been able to gather from watching people smoke it. I must say that it isn't a very attractive habit. It smells better than cigars, pipes, and/or cigarettes, but the pipe/hose hanging out of people's mouths is a little odd. Pictures to follow...you know whenever I can get things to work.

Let's hope this works!! It doesn't.

I had a plan. A perfect plan. Now that I have my nifty new apartment, I was finally going to post pictures. I still don't have access to the internet in my place, so I walked to a cafe that has free wireless internet with the full intention of posting at least a couple of pictures for all of you. OK, so blogger can be a little slow at posting images with super fast internet, try posting pictures with Lebanese slow speed (think dial up speed). After five minutes waiting for my picture to post I gave up when the thing showed o sign of budging. I may try again, but I only have two hours of free access and then I get shut down. Je suis tellement desolee.

So yes, as I mentioned I have finally moved into the apartment. I did end up with the one with the blue shutters, and it really is lovely. It is a one bedroom apartment with a small little kitchen, a living room, bathroom (that is tons bigger than the NYC bathroom), and a sunroom that I believe was once the patio. Don't even worry, I still have two other patios. The sunroom is the room with the view of the Mediterranean Sea and the American University of Beirut campus and its belltower.

The place has a very warm feel to it, thanks to the pale yellow walls. While I don't normally love yellow, it is 500 times better than stark white. I currently only have bedroom furniture: a full sized bed (that is not as big as US full sized beds) and a nice large closet, both in dark dark wood. My bedspread is nice, although it isn't what I would have normally chose. It is yellow with big pink roses. It's a little too Laura Ahsley for my taste, but seriously it was the best option. Everthing else was horrifying. I probably won't get my living room furniture for a month, and will hopefully get my kitchen appliances at the end of next week. I don't love the idea of not having a fridge or an oven. I am sick sick sick of eating out. I am now storing soy milk at the bakery so I can at least have a nice bowl of cereal to start out the day.

I joined a gym today. It is so necessary. I think I will even be getting a personal trainer, since they only cost $25 a session. Not bad, eh? It is kind of a necessity for me since I work in a bakery that makes lemon bars.

Primary is going well. I have only had all three kids once so far. I like it better when they are all there. I feel sorry for them when I have just one. I am not that entertaining in French. Though I think the kids do get a kick out my "Book of Mormon Stories" hand motions. Last week I spoke in church, so I ended up showing a video for the primary lesson. A talk, Sharing Time, and a Primary lesson are a little too much for one person. (PS and by the way: I was the only speaker.)

That's the update. I may try to post a picture again, so cross your fingers...

I've Never Bought a Closet Before

It is an interesting adventure trying to log on to my blog account. While you guys in the USofA get the blue Blogger log-in strip in English for easy navigation. I have it in Arabic. The first time I tried to log in after my arrival, I nearly gave up after 10 minutes. Then I remembered that Arabic speakers read right to left, so I should choose the icons on the other side. Victory! Of sorts. There are two things to choose, and I usually can't remember which one to pick. Anyway, I was glad to have some time tonight to catch up on everyone's blogs. The internet was surprisingly fast (everyone else at the cafe is more interested in shooting up the counter-terrorists in the wonderful? world of online gaming than searching web). So I checked email, finally filled out a change of address form online (thanks Mom and Dad for watching my mail while I am gone), and decided to write a nice, lengthy post. The caveat: I ate something that made me sick, and my intestines have informed me that I may need a bathroom post haste. Forgive the typos as I attempt to write this out quickly.

The good news is that there is an apartment in Beirut waiting for me to move in. Hiphiphooray! Although there were no lightbulbs in the place when I looked at it, I knew it was for me...all the way down to the pretty blue shutters. The place is in the middle of being refurbished, and so I get to pick out appliances and furniture that I don't have to pay for, except the tv for which I will pay half. So worth it for a modest, wall-mounted flat screen. In Beirut, the vast majority of appartments come already furnished, which for people like me is a pretty good deal. However the furniture is pretty bland and generic--almost 3rd rate motel furniture, and the linens leave MUCH to be desired. Picking out stuff that I can live with is a dream come true, and for my boss Nabil and his cousin Salah, pretty much a whole bucket of fun for them, as they discuss decorating and entertainment options. I will not be surprised if, during the course of decorating, the apartment turns into a hangout complete with, heavy metal posters, a PS3 and fridge next to the couch. That is why I volunteered to join them in their decorating excursions.

Since Salah's family owns a building, they know where all the affordable furniture places are--places that Nabil didn't want me to visit. Salah insisted, so I got to go to a whole new part of Beirut, a part that pretty much is the ghetto. As we parked, they told me not to speak English. I immediately assumed that there would be some haggling, and my language would interfere with the honest prices, so I agreed to speak in French. The store, poorly-lit with ancient fluorescent bulbs, seemed to be the Mecca of generic Beirut furniture. There were beds, closets, chests of drawers all arrayed, each with an attempt to be styled with odd carvings. I picked out the least-styled, dark wood options, even though the armoir was a little on the small side. Salah asked if it would be big enough. I replied that I had no clue since I had never purchased a closet before.

We then went across the street to look at sofas. We all decided that red would be the best option and fortunately found a simple, red L-shaped couch hidden amongst the maze of tapestry and/or animal print living rooms suites all trimmed with four-inch multi-colored trim. I understood why most furnished apartments were so bland, this was the other option: furniture designed by people obviously having a bad day.

The prices were haggled and we left; some of us rather angrily due to the prices. "These guys don't like Americans," explained Nabil. "Really?" I asked, assuming these guys like our money. Umm no. These guys really don't like Americans, which was why I was not allowed to speak in English. Apparently the whole ghetto shared their sentiments. I immediately put the hood of my sweater over my head...just in case. Then we headed to a better part of town, with much better prices. After I picked out things that I liked, the two guys spent the rest of the week buying stuff. I hear that I at least get to officially pick the linens, please oh please. Thne NAbil says he found another apartment that is closer to the bakery. (The other one is about a 10-minute walk, and has a sea-view, and did I mention the pretty blue shutters?) Whatever happens, I am still buying that tv.

Last week I had my first lesson with the Primary kids. No, they wouldn't sing with me, but I did get them to do the actions while I attempted to sing "Book of Mormon Stories" in French. Luckily those hand gestures are fun and universal. During the Sharing Time portion of the day, I showed the kids pictures of prophets and other important religious folk to discuss how Heavenly Father has a plan for us. This went well until I got to Moses. They knew who he was for the most part. I jogged their memories telling them that he freed the Isrealites from Egypt. The kids were not impressed, and made some remarks that made me think they would rather he kept them there as slaves. Oops. I will need to remember that Lebanon doesn't care for their neighbors to the South. Not that I blame them. That nation would start WW3 over kids throwing rocks. I have other views, but I'll keep that rant for another day. But if you are concerned for my safety, please know I am fine, and the Israeli jets flying overhead everyday are not dropping anything.

I ate a fabulous Lebanese meal the other day--no, not the cause for my recent intestinal discomfort--and it was delicious. For all you hummous lovers out there, you don't even know how good it can be! My next post will inform you all the details of the pad, and then you can all make airline reservations to come visit!

I suppose everyone deals with technical difficulties for a month now and again.

Here is a quick update to let you all know that I am not dead. That whole Israel/Hamas thing is far from me, and let's hope it stays that way. If Hezbolla gets involved then I will have a different tale to tell. But since I am safe, let's talk about my life in Beirut.

1. I still don't have an apartment. But I no longer live in a hotel. A girl from the branch is letting my stay at her apartment while she is touring Turkey. Pray that I get an apartment soon. Having an apartment means that I can unpack, get connected to the internet, upload pictures, get/feel settled.

2. I had a white Christmas! I was fortunate to have a day off on Christmas, and the missionary couple in my branch invited me to drive up to the ski resorts with them. The drive was gorgeous, and the slopes were covered in snow. We ate lunch at the Intercontinental Hotel, and rubbed shoulders with shieks and other wealthy arabs. My lunch (a buffet) cost $70. I went back many times to get $7o worth.

3. I got called to be the Primary President of my branch. I will be over 3 children, all of whom speak French. This goes to show that you should always be careful what you pray for. This will be an interesting calling, since Primary is still new to the kids (aged 7-9). According to the former Primary President, they don't like to sing. I have no clue what I am going to do with them. Any suggestions would be helpful.

4. It is kind of chilly. I wished I packed more of my long-sleeved shirts.

5. We just got a third baker! This was the best Christmas present. Now I can decorate and organize more, and do things I was hired to do.

6. I have taken more pictures! I still don't know when I will be posting them.

The internet cafe guys probably want to go home. I think I am the last one here. Take care!

Still no pictures, but at least I can write!

I still don't have an adapter for my computer, but I should soon. My tour guide/bosses' brother Wassim was going to take me tonight but it appears that he is working late. I'll accept that excuse because he's been super kind taking me to church and the store, etc. In fact, he showed me the pretty part of Beirut on Saturday night. After 16 long hours of baking, we went to the fancy downtown--the area that invokes the reference "Paris of the East." It has been renovated since the civil war, but the late Prime Minister Hariri did a bang-up job making the buildings appear as they used to, but more modern. It was so beautiful. I also saw some Roman ruins and a gorgeous mosque. I took pictures!

Sunday I went to church. As you may imagine there are not a lot of Mormons in Beirut, so we met in a small apartment. It reminded me of my mission. Everyone was so friendly, and it made me feel like I was home. Everyone was relieved to hear that I speak French, since it is one of the languages used in the branch Arabic and English being the others.) The only Americans there that day were the missionary couples, the rest were Lebanese and Philippino. The one odd thing about church: it was TWO HOURS LONG. I guess that's what happens when you have few announcements. I was a little floored by the concept, but I am not complaining!

I still live at the hotel, but I should hopefully have an apartment next week. According to Nabil, he's having some poor student kicked out of his apartment so I can live there. I checked to make sure he was kidding, but I don't think he was. How incredibly Emily Gilmore of him.

Anywhoo. I need to get up to bed. Not sure when I will be able to post pictures, but I will try to take some for the day that I can!!

So, you want to work at a cupcake bakery in Beirut?

Greetings! I made it! I am utterly exhausted and should go to bed, but I wanted all of you to know that I am well.

My trip was eventful. I have bad travel karma, and this trip was no exception. For starters my ticket said I was flying on Middle Eastern Airlines, and upon arriving at JFK my cab driver and I found no sign identifying which terminal I needed. After asking around and visiting a couple of international terminals, we were informed that the first leg of my voyage was actually Virgin Atlantic, and I would take MEA to Beirut. That is...if Virgin Atlantic was on time. It wasn't, and the delay meant that I would miss my connecting flight, so the kind VA workers rerouted me. Then I waited and waited while the delay continued to be a three hour delay. (Why do I go to the airport on time?) Fortunately VI and my new connecting airline BMI had free entertainment and free food. I slept for all but two hours of the VA flight, and on the way to Beirut I sat next to too nice Sudanese ladies, one of whom had a baby that was quite taken with me...or my watch. Either way, it was a good flight--albeit slightly delayed as well. My luggage, however didn't make the flight even though it had plenty of time. I finally got my bags back yesterday. That's right folks, a full week later. When I finally opened my luggage last night I had to resist the urge to wear everything at once.

I am sure you are wondering about my first impressions of Bierut. Well, I haven't see too much because I have been working nonstop. But the parts I have seen remind me a little of Guayaquil, Ecuador. I hope to have pictures soon. Everyone is fantastically hospitable. I think I have only had to pay for myself twice, and it was just water. Lebanese speak an interesting mixture of Arabic, French and English. They are reallly beautiful people, but there seems to be a high proportion of people who have severe, and I am not exxagerating, severe unibrows. I hope to get some pictures soon.

The bakery opened on Sunday and has been a roaring success. This is fabulous and stressful all at the same time. It is fabulous because I like the owners and I want them to be successful, but stressful because no one was prepared for the response. The fellow who founded the company works in Amman, and their business is mostly special orders--about 95%. So they aren'y hugely busy. We are 95% foot traffic, and the kitchen was not set up for it. In fact there is only one other baker besides myself, two baristas, two cleaning staff, and Abed who has a very vague role but may be trained to bake eventually. Fortunately, I used to work at a popular bakery, so I have been employing some organizational tactics that have helped. I am tired, though. All but the baristas work two shifts a day. We are beyond exhausted.

The staff is a lot of fun. The other baker is Rihani from Amman, Jordan. He is about 21 years old and a fabulous baker. He is also working hard at teaching me Arabic. He'll go over numbers and colors and bakery terms. I taech him Eglish as well. We work well together, despite a harsh language barrier. Our dishwasher is from the Sudan. I must say, at first I couldn't stop looking at him. He has a interestinlgy chiseled face, and I was a little in awe because I had to realize that he was real and not a National Geographic special. Our other cleaning lady is from Ethiopia, and apparently she is isn't too friendly, but because we don't speak the same language I have no clue what is going on. Our two baristas speak English pretty perfectly--just a itsy-bitsy smidgen of an accent. The a.m. barista, Mansour is bent on teaching me Lebanese Arabic, while Rihani teaches me Jordanian Arabic. And then there's Abed. After we opened he was such a pill. He wouldn't do anything except pester the Sudanese guy almost to the point of fisticuffs. I think our owner gave him a stern talking to, because he has been on his best behavior for two whole days. Plus, the stress level has gone down so we have had time to teach him recipes. I'll try to make him our prep cook--at least. The owner, Nabil, is great. He is at the bakery everyday, he buys our meals, and drives us home. He is new to the bakery industry, but I see that as a benefit because then I can get things organized my way without too much intereference. He does listen, so hopefully things will continue to progress well.

I am going to end this blog post now, since it is getting long (and there are no pictures), and I really need to get to bed. I am sitting in the hotel manager's office, and I don't want to overstay my welcome.

It's Official!!

You may (or may not) be pleased to know that I have finally received my airline tickets to Beirut. I leave tomorrow (Wednesday the 26th) at 10:25pm. I will have a sadly brief layover in London, and will arrive in Lebanon at 6:40pm their time. It is all feeling a little more real now. I also found out today that my friend who got me this job should be in town when I arrive. That will ease my nerves, I am sure.

I am not sure when I will get to post my first Beirut blog, so please be patient. I will write as soon as I can!

Have a Happy Thanksgiving!!

Big Move Update

I bet you are wondering when I take off. I am too! I actually don't have my tickets yet. The new boss is purchasing them, and he as promised me that I will finally have them Tuesday morning. I hope so; I am supposed to leave on Wednesday!

So in the meantime, enjoy some blogs about NYC.

Galletas and Despedidos.
In order to move to a far away locale, one must have a going away party. I did; I had a cookie-themed party, although from the looks of the above photo, I should lay of the treats. One of the first guests to arrived is my four-year old bff in the above picture. Sometimes I get to babysit her and her little sister, and I usually sit with her on Sundays. She was a huge help with the party preparations. She helped me by taking cookies of the (cooled) sheets, and by putting dough onto the cookie sheets to be baked. As you can see, she really got into it.

Her cookies turned out pretty good. Everyone dug the out of the ordinary shapes.

Below, is the proud mom af that future cookie baker.

A lot of my favorite people came to the shindig. My favorite colleague came. She is, in fact, the person who interviewed me and trained me. She is also from Washington state, thus solidifying her coolness.

At the party, I also had to say good-bye to Magnus the Lemon Tree. It was really sad, even though know he is going to a good home. I miss my little tree, even though his thorns gashed the heck out of my arm that day.

Although I am excited for the opportunity that awaits me, it is going to be hard to let go of god friends.

I also have to say good-bye the Young Women in my ward. They were very kind to throw me a party. We played a very fun version of "Pin the Tail on the Donkey;" instead of pinning any tails, they taped images of me on a map, while blindfolded. The closest to Lebanon won a prize.

I think this girl taped me on the Mediterranean. Close.

The girls made nice "recuerdos" for to remember the by. I need to remember to eat less goodies. Look what happens when you don't exercise for a month. Egads!

I think I am going to miss these girls.

The Cliffords go to West Point
One of the beauties of the autumnal parent visit is the trips upstate with all the gorgeous fall leaves. After our fun-filled Halloween in the Hudson Valley, the folks and decided to go back to the valley the following day to see the area we were lost in that night. Actually, we have a family friend who lives in West Point, so we decided to go up and visit her family and see the fortress-like military campus. Besides seeing good friends, this was an appropriate activity for dad, who is a retired army officer.
That day that we went was also the day of the Army vs. Air Force football game, which we didn't go to, but were treated with a military review and skydivers.

After the soldiers marched off the field, we walked around campus and caught the views of the colorful Valley.

West Point Academy is also part war museum as the grounds contain cannons from each of the military conflicts in which our country has participated. Here is a picture of my dad inspecting the weaponry.

The usually closed-off campus library was open to visitors on game day. The building, named after our country's third president (that would be Thomas Jefferson), contained his old desk, a pair of his boots, and his letter-writing invention. There was also a really nice statue where I learned that Jefferson had an interesting way of tying his bootlaces.

The library was lovely, but I had the most fun showing my friends three-year old daughter how to use the camera. (Aren't digital cameras a lovely toy?) The following images are her masterpieces. I think she has a gift. (I did erase about twenty pictures of one car.)

Here is the parental unit.

This is the artist's self-portraint. I can't even do self-portraits this well.

Her little, itty-bitty shoes.

That would be me.

And those are my feet.

After our lovely fall day in upstate New York, my parents and drove through the valley checking out pretty homes and quaint villages, and increasing our ability to not read NY road signs very well. Oh yes, we got a little lost again. Fortunately all roads lead to NYC.

Before Life Got Weird, I Celebrated Halloween
I mentioned in a previous post that my parents came to visit me, for the holidays. OK, just one holiday, but Halloween is one of the coolest holidays ever so the parental visit during this time of year was very important. (Plus it was nice that they were around when Beirut came calling.)

Anyway, this Halloween with the parental unit (the first since 1996 btw), was a fun one. First off, mom and dad took me to Fairway to fill up my cupboards with tasty food (food that I will not really be eating because I don't have room in my luggage for it all). Afterwards I got the folks on the subway for a delicious meal at the Chip Shop. We went to SoHo so mom could do some birthday shopping at SoHo Patch. We then grabbed a quick bite of dessert at The Bakery. Then we rushed back home to have a quick bite to eat before heading to our Halloween festivities.

The beauty of living in NYC, is that I also live close to the Historic Hudson Valley that has charming Stars Hollow-esque festivals like "Blaze" an amazing jack-o-lantern festival that had been featured in some of Martha Stewart's media.

The festival contains a gazillion pumpkins, most of which have been carved to represent a piece of a whole sculpture, like the above mammoth skeleton.

So, I don't have a very good camera for nighttime shots. (I looked for a night feature on my camera, and it still alludes me.) These are more dinosaurs.

Hatching dinosaurs.

Ok, so it wasn't just dinosaurs. I kind of got tired of taking pictures when so many turned out blurry.

The house below is Van Cortland Manor. It looks kind of eery in this shot.

At the end of the tour o' lanterns, we learned the secret to this festival is that most of the pumpkins are not real. I am sorry to reveal this huge secret, but it's probably the only way anyone would want to recreate the spectacular year after year.

The last pumpkin exhibit was the gift shop (no surprise there), but we gave in to the subtle marketing and bought scone mix...that was packaged in Spokane, WA. How ironic that my parents flew all the way to NYC to purchase scone mix they could have gotten at home.

After the festival, my parents and I participated in a time-honored family tradition of getting lost on the way home. In the past, this tradition was observed only when looking for Christmas trees, but I am glad that our inability to read road signs showed up for Halloween.

Beirut and all the Crazy Details

I am pretty sure you have all been waiting impatiently for the details, and since I officially gave notice at work today I can spill.

A couple of months ago a pastry chef friend moved to Dubai to work at a cupcake/American-style bakery. Being a girl that likes to see the world, I was immediately envious and suggested that he tell his boss about me. After all, I happen to work at an incredibly popular cupcake bakery. As it turns out, this friend told his boss about me, and last Monday I was offered a job in Beirut, Lebanon.

I wasn't exactly expecting that location, and I nearly turned them down. It doesn't sound like a very safe option for a pasty American female. However that little voice inside suggested I hear what the bakery bosses had to say, and my roommates and I immediately began to google Beirut to see if it is really as dangerous as we think.

After two phone interviews, answering questions like "will employees respect me," "what language will be spoken in the bakery," and "what voltage does Lebanon use," I felt ready to accept their offer. Don't worry, I contemplated and prayed about the opportunity. It turns out to be the odd answer to some prayers of frustration in my life. I like to travel, and, thanks to a mission and time in France, I like to live outside of the country. I also wish I spoke more French. So besides being an amazing work opportunity, it fills that need to live hors de mon pais, and use that French degree I acquired.

In Beirut I will do pretty much the same stuff that I do here, but more baking and with more travel. According to the new bosses, I will be able to visit Dubai and Amman, Jordan, as well as other future locations. Many Lebanese are French educated, and thanks to French control after WWI, French is the second most used language in the country. My boss will cover my rent, health insurance, and airfare.

Now to answer some of the questions I have received, and other things I have learned:

1. Yes, I am crazy.

2. I won't be speaking full-time French, but perhaps a nice mix of English, French and Arabic, or EngFreBic.

3. I will not have to dress up a boy to go dancing.

4. I do not have to be veiled in public. Or wear a sari. Indian women wear saris.

5. My church is an officially recognized religion, so I will not risk getting arrested while worshipping. Yes, there is a branch. And I had to contact some important people in Salt Lake to get information about the branch.

6. You better come visit me.

7. No, I will not be visiting Jerusalem. If I do, the Lebanese government would not let me enter the country again.

8. If there is another...ummm...conflict in the country, the bakery will send me to another franchise elsewhere in the Middle East.

OK, that's all I can think of right now. Please let me know if you have any other questions. I will try answer them while I am getting ready to ship out. And I will try to keep the blog posted as much as I can.

So that's the scoop!

Two and a Half Years in New York is Enough. Right?
A funny thing happened on Monday. After spending a fun day in the city with the parental unit, I cam home to find an email offering me a job in a bakery outside of New York City. And after some consideration, I have decided to take the job. I am going to pack up and leave Gotham City for a brand-spanking-new-to-me locale. That is clue #1. I am not going to actually tell you where I am going. I'm going to let you guess with some fun facts about the area, and a few pictures. So, clue #1: I have never been there before. Wait, clue #1 is the satelite image above. Clue #2 is that I have never been there.


Clue #3. There are a lot of cedar trees in the area.

Clue #4: It is often referred to as the "Paris of the East."

Clue#5: In the 19th century, the city thrived on exporting silk.

Clue #6: It is believed that this city had the very first law school. Ever.

Clue #7: Possible candidate for the 2024 Summer Olympic Games.

Clue #8: Birthplace of Keanu Reeves, oddly enough.

Clue #9: Listed as one of Lonely Planet's Top Ten Liveliest Cities.

Clue #10: Hottest month: August, with a whopping average temperature of 85 degrees. The coldest month is January and a "frigid" 50 degrees.

I am not sure if there is going to be a prize if you guess correctly, besides the satisfaction of figuring out my misleading clues. But please note that I will be on my way in about four weeks. It is so crazy how life up and changes like that.

Anyway, in a couple of days I will post the answer and additional details about the newest adventure. And trust me, this is going to be an adventure.

Lessons Learned

I think I may have mentioned once or twice that I am kind of obsessed with the TV show Friday Night Lights. Well the third season has begun, and you would think that I am writing about how awesome the plotlines are, but alas, I haven't seen one single episode. No, my love isn't waning...I just don't have directTV. In January I can finally watch the shows on NBC, but that's a really long time, and lets be honest, I am not that patient. I have a friend that will be getting directTV soon...but I want to watch it now! (Picture my five-year-old self pouting and having a minor tantrum because I am not getting my way...) One evening while doing some blog spying, I discovered that someone I know has been watching the new episodes online. Oh, I googled it but couldn't come up with anything that shouted "Watch FNL Season 3 Here" so I was a little frustrated.

I came upon this acquaintance who has been watching FNL, and asked how he was able to watch the show. He told me that he would tell me how...provided that I have no problems with stealing from the internet. I have no real problem with that. (I may or may not have purchased all the songs in my collection.) He emailed me instructions to ummm....downloading available content....and I swear I followed them to a "T"--even though I think we all know that I have limited computer skills.

I downloaded sites to watch shows; a site to search for available content, the first three 3rd season episodes, and apparently--according to the warning messages from Microsft--spyware, perhaps a Trojan horse, maybe some adult content--and other general bad news. So I also had to download an anti-spyware program.

Did I get to watch the coveted FNL episodes? No. They are actually not fully downloaded. After two hours I only had 60% of the first episode, and with all the warning notices from Bill Gates I gave up. Sad huh? I am not actually sure if my computer is 100% safe. I still get warning messages when I check my email. (And I was just about to be a little more involved with online banking.) I will give my little computer a checkup, and hopefully soon my friend will have directTV.

Moral of the story: Patience is a virtue. And don't steal, er download available stuff off the internet...without assistance from someone with computer skills.

And the Heavens Opened...

My Favorite Band For Life's third album was released today. I had a little dilemma about the choice of buying the physical copy of the CD or downloading the music from iTunes. I felt that as a true fan, I should buy the actual disc, but for $11.99 iTunes offered a deluxe version complete with demo tracks, a documentary and extra songs. I think you all know what I chose. (I will probably put the CD on my Christmas list.)

I previewed the album last week on lastfm.com, and so far I like the album. Two tracks in particular ("Lovers Are Losing" and "Again and Again") were immediately stuck in my head, which I consider a pretty good sign. The album is full of familiar Keane traits like soaring anthems, and intense keyboard synths. (I'm probably just making that word up.) This time the band reaches far into the 80's for some New Wave pop inspirations musically, but the lyrics contain the typical depth that I love about the band. Catchy and profound as usual.

Now I just need to hear about US Tour announcements to make my third album joy complete.

A Tree Grows in Washington Heights
About a year and a half ago I took a fancy to growing a lemon tree. I really like Meyer Lemons, but at $4.50 a pound I realized that buying them would break my bank...so why not grow them? It appears that you can just buy dwarf lemon trees and grow those fruits right in your own home. So of course I wanted one for my birthday, and of course my good parents bought me one. When it finally arrived for my 31st birthday, it didn't look too promising. Please see the above exhibit. That little twig didn't look like it was going to be producing any produce anytime soon. I knew it would take some time to get any actual lemons, and I was a little afraid that my black thumb would interupt any future lemon cultivating. It is so fortunate that I just so happen to have an uncle who just so happens to be the head of the horticulture department at Texas A&M. He intervened with some solid advice like watering and making sure that the tree gets plenty of sun. Good advice. That summer my tree, named Magnus (to inspire lemon greatness), spent its days on my front stoop soaking in the rays and getting all big and strong.

I brought Magnus in once the weather grew colder, as per the advice of my wise, plant-friendly uncle, and in December I noticed its first flowers. I was amazed...I was certain I wouldn't see any signs of plant puberty for another year. After all it was still a young tree. Nonetheless, I was glad to see prospects of my own, home-grown fruit. (Am I a bad inner-city parent or what?) The little flowers turned into little lemons and all of a sudden I had twelve little baby lemons.

Most of them matured quickly and fell off the tree without being a useable citrus, but three stayed on and continued to grow. I swear I took pictures of their progress, but I can't seem to find them. But I watched the progress carefully. The lemons grew, but continued to stay green. My lemon advisor warned me that lemons took a long time to mature, but when September rolled around I became a little concerned. Did lemon gestation last as long as human gestation. Longer, apparently. Two weeks ago--ten months after the flowers blossomed--the lemons started to drop off the tree, indicating that they were finally ripe!!!

Yesterday I juiced them with so much pride. I actually grew those lovely litte lemons! I look forward to using them. I squeezed about 1 1/4 cups of juice. One cup is reserved to make a lemon tart for my parents' visit, and the quarter cup I used today as a remedy for laryngitis. My throat feels better already.

Right now Magnus the Tree looks a little sick. I think it was a little too small to produce three large fruits, and it has lost a lot of leaves. I hope that with a little TLC, it will be back in shape to make me some more fruit.