MODERN IFIGENIA

I love traveling around the world and around my town. Since I was young I learned to enjoy things around me regardless of whether I was alone or accompanied. There was nothing remarkable about that until I became an adult and suddenly, there was an expectation that I should always be accompanied. This expectation or assumption has led to many awkward moments with various service providers, but particularly with the restaurant industry. So here are some tips I would like to give to restaurateurs if you would like to maintain the patronage of people who are patronizing you on their own: DON'T: Ask "just one?" DO: Say "thank you for choosing us today" DON'T: Take the food away when the customer goes to the bathroom DO: Ask the customer whether they are done with their plate DON'T: Have one tiny table in the back of the restaurant DO: Have small tables spread throughout the restaurant DON'T: Let the customer to their own devices when it comes ...

That is the question I receive closer to every election day. My friends, family, acquaintances ask me for my opinion. The thing is that I rarely have an answer for them. I can provide quite cogent explanations for who I will be voting for, but I don't know who YOU should vote for. Each year individuals are surprised by what follows their uttering of that question. I ask "What are your most important values?" "How do you judge people, by past performance or by what they say?" "How do you think people make decisions; by deeply held values or by incentives and disincentives?" They are often surprised that I don't push a particular candidate. They are also surprised that I don't strategize much; by that I mean, I don't choose a candidate based on "viability" or campaign slogans or fundraising ability. I choose candidates whose priorities are similar to mine. Here is the thing, I am old and I am deeply concerned about my legacy...

"Whatever your destiny has in store, it is always love that finds you and not the other way around. That is why we must learn to listen."                              ---Roger Housden

Somewhere between Central, PA and Pocahontas County, WV There is something about hitting your mid-30's. Specially when you have accomplished a lot in your time. You start to really assess how you are spending your time. I now care more about how happy I have spent my time than I am about how productive I have been. For a while I thought this was a sign of growth, I had matured, and because of that I was probably not going to  be maturing more anytime soon. My next lesson I believed was scheduled to be learned in my early 40's. However, I went on a trip to Pocahontas County, WV. I stayed in a very small town with a population of just over one thousand. The nearest movie theater was about 45 miles away and there were very few shops or things to do. I wanted this as I needed a respite from my hectic life and have learned to cherish solitude. I was looking for peace. Alas, I ended up finding something else. I ended up entertaining myself hiking and taking a closer look a...

It wasn't until I was 13 years old that I learned I was fat. That was the year I moved to the United States and began to have a difficult time finding clothes that fit appropriately. I never really thought about that change until much later when I would look back on childhood photos and was surprised by how well my clothes fit, and how well-dressed I mostly was. As someone who is very fashionably challenged, I was surprised that at some point in time, I knew how to dress well...and I seemed to have lost the skill once I had many clothing options. When did I lose that skill? I began to explore that phenomena and quickly came to an odd realization. In the U.S. I clearly always had more clothing options that I ever did in Venezuela. Ready-made clothes in the U.S. were affordable so everyone could buy them. That was the key, in Venezuela, ready-made clothes were very expensive, so not too many people purchased them. In fact, I don't remember my mom buying anything ready-mad...

It is no secret to anyone who knows me that I NEED a vacation, like really NEED a vacation. As in, if I don't take a vacation soon, I will be rendered totally dysfunctional. So as I began to look for an affordable destination, I landed on Pocahontas County, WV. Hotels were affordable and very remote. I contacted a B&B to ask for clarification on their location and policies. The owner of the B&B was very helpful, but began to apologize; you see, the B&B has no Wi-Fi, and Cell phone service was spotty. What the owner was apologizing for, I was looking forward to. I was looking for a place where I could getaway to and know that no one will be able to reach me...so unreachable that I would carry cyanide with me so that if I were to fall and break my ankle, I could euthanize myself because no one would be able to find me. That is the kind of remote I was looking for. Needless to say, I was SOLD on the property! In the alternative, I will stop by Angel Falls , nothing say...

I have been getting my health coverage in order and was very proud of myself. I had Health, Dental and Vision coverage. Until I learned that my dentist didn't accept the plan offered by Delta Dental, which meant that Delta Dental's website information was incorrect, which they decided not to do anything about because I was stuck paying them premiums without an ability to use the insurance plan...which they love...seriously getting paid to do nothing. So after a few minutes listening to DD telling me that I chose the wrong plan, that I needed to choose one my dentist accepted, but they couldn't tell me which one the dentist accepted, but that I couldn't use their website to figure it out because their website was wrong, but they could tell me my dentist did accept one and I had to figure out which one of their plans my dentist accepted before they could let me know which one the dentist accepted, I realized that I am very grateful for several things: 1. Not working in ...

I have always had an obsession with makeup. That obsession has gone hand in hand with the feeling that I am not attractive enough, and my love of colors. I have learned to master the art of makeup for every occasion, but never managed to look beautiful. I have looked pretty. In fact, the times I feel I look my best, my mom would comment that I didn't look good because the photo didn't really convey who I was. I never quite understood what she meant...until last week. Last week I had the opportunity to spend three days with female immigrant rights activists from across the country. I walked into the meeting room the first day and felt immediately ugly. These women were all beautiful, they looked powerful, wise, they seemed to own who they were. I have strived all my life to look like these women, but at best managed to look pretty. As the time went by with them I noticed one commonality, they didn't wear makeup. There were Mexican women, Korean women, Chinese women...

One of my fondest memories of Snohomish County in Washington State is the annual Tulip Festival. It takes place during the spring when Tulips bloom, but right before they are cut to take to market. You see acres and acres of Tulips, one of the most beautiful views I've experienced. Unlike other vistas, this experience makes you feel like a flower yourself. As a visitor, you feel beautiful simply because you somehow become part of the landscape; at once you are touching one simple flower, and one massive field. Unlike viewing a gorgeous skyline or horizon, you can actually reach out to and touch this massive source of beauty. As the news of mudslides continue, and as the story turns increasingly sour, my heart goes out to Snohomish County residents and I wish them a blooming and hopeful life to come.

Today I ran across this article from The Huffington Post which helps you figure out whether your car is your soul mate. I didn't even have to think about it because I LOVE my car, so the answer is a definitive yes. As the nerd that I am, I wondered if I am more in love with my car than most, I really enjoy being in my car (and it's not because  it's clean), sometimes my car is the only place I can cry and the only place I can dance, but maybe everyone does that. So to answer this question more objectively, I went to the Department of Transportation Federal Highway Administration and found that I am more in love with my car than the average American. According to DOT's website, I drive about 15600 more miles per year than the average American woman my age and about 12000 more miles than the average American my age...ahhh  that is love. To be clear, my car has been my house while waiting to be un-booted, it has been my office, my classroom, my supply of electricity...

At the beginning of 2014 I set out to accomplish various new year's resolutions. By the writing of this post, several had already been broken: Drink 100 oz of water each day, produce less than one grocery bag of garbage a week, meditate everyday, etc. etc. I have failed at these, but still try to abide by the spirit of the resolution. There are two other resolutions that I haven't even started working on yet. One is to read ten Latin American novels and the other is to read all of Hemingway's novels. I was really excited about these two and being able to successfully accomplish them, but then something happened... BuzzFeed . All of sudden I found myself wanting to learn important things about myself, like what kind of food I am, or what dead person I am, or what kind of scientist I would make. Before I knew it, I was spending hours on these quizzes (which probably speaks to some narcissism on my part) and it was March. So today, I decided to go grab my first novel and s...

I am that rare creature out there, the single woman who owns a Costco membership. I have found it to be a particularly useful eccentricity because I am always prepared for things like needing 500+ sandwich bags or  NEEDING two large containers of Nutella. Hmmm, I should probably be clear upfront that I have no ownership or familial connection to Costco or Nutella, and that these are both irrational obsessions. So Costco has a membership that returns 2% of the amount you spent there over the year. This membership is very expensive, but in theory it would pay off if you purchase a lot at Costco. I have no reason to have this membership, but thought that maybe it would make sense, after all, I have my own business you know. As it turns out, if this membership isn't advantageous for you, Costco will reimburse you a portion of the membership and as it turns out I didn't spend enough money to warrant the membership. So today I marched over to the customer service desk to talk ...

In looking up the proper terminology for the title of this post, I learned that "divorcees" are divorced women, not men, because apparently men are the divorcers. So there is really no gender neutral way of identifying people who have survived a divorce, or as Tammy Wynnette would say D-I-V-O-R-C-E. In the end it doesn't matter. I was inspired by a mirror to write this post. It sounds bizarre, but two and a half years ago my ex-husband moved out and I began to take dance lessons. There was a mirror in that dance room and I avoided seeing my reflection in it. I used it mostly to follow the footsteps of other dancers, but never to look at myself. About a year later another divorcee joined the group. We talked to each other quite a bit and I could clearly remember the very first time I saw myself in the mirror. We were talking as usual, I was sitting down and she was standing. I was facing the mirror straight on and she was perpendicular to the mirror. I remember noticin...