I Like my Mocha with MoCA

Two weekends ago I treated myself to an afternoon downtown to play at MoCA San Diego (Museum of Contemporary Art). The exhibits varied from genius, to provocative, to utterly laughable. But I adore contemporary art; art is to me as a battery charger is to a cell phone. Though, I admit, my favorite part was the museum store. I get sort of sad when I'm in an museum because I know I can't take my favorite works home with me, but in the museum store, it's art you can buy, keep, and touch without a security guard giving you the stink eye (or an escort out of the facility).

I followed up my excursion with a stop at a fabulously modern coffee shop here called Influx, where I dined on a decadent apple-smoked ham, swiss, and pineapple baguette paired with a mocha.

I encourage you all to go exploring sometime soon, especially a museum as they're always changing and your experience there promises to never be the same twice. Adieu to you!

Chalk It Up to Experience

Not long ago, I challenged my dear friend Ben to go discover three things in his city, New York, before the end of October. He's held up one-third of his deal so far. Not to be outdone, I did the same.

The first of my three "discoveries" was the Chalk Art Festa in Little Italy (yes, festa, not fiesta). I took in the attractive Italian men, the art, and ate my very first cannoli. I concur with Clemenza, "Leave the gun, take the cannoli." I've read about artists who reject certain canvases if they aren't stretched tight enough, made out of just the right material, etc; these artists were infinitely more tolerant as they sketched around holes, bumps, and cracks to awesome effect. I hope you enjoy their fabulous creations as much as I did and, in the spirit of the upcoming election, I invite you to vote on your favorite chalk drawing!












I would've loved to stay and seen The Girl with the Pearl Earring come to fruition, but I would've had to stay a long time. Besides, just with what's there I thought she was stunning.














This lady was plucked from the audience so this Italian in full costume could cut a rug with her.



This adorable guy may not have looked like "Ole Blue Eyes," but he certainly crooned like Sinatra (I even spotted some old ladies swooning on the sidelines).

Broken Toy

This isn't a reactionary or post-trauma post, this was my way of explaining to my very dear friend, Peter, why taking my life out of God's hands and into my own never works. Unfortunately, by recycling my little story, Peter now knows just how very pleased I was with myself for coming up with it in the first place. Oh well.

"I'm like a kid who’s been given a beautiful, complicated toy and is being taught how to work the toy. My father patiently and lovingly shows me how to not just play with it, but how all of its little parts work so I can enjoy it best. But I get excited mid-lesson and run off with the toy to enjoy it, thinking I can work it all on my own. I'm so happy to just have the toy all to myself, no sharing, no lessons. My father patiently and wordlessly stands by, knowing what's next. After a short while, I soon become bored with, then frustrated, and finally furious at the toy and pound it to near uselessness, but still father stands by. I know my father's there; I want to pretend the he's all smug and is doing this as revenge or punishment. Neither is true, the father just waits for me to come back, eager to help me but knowing I have to decide for myself. The last thing I want to do is the last thing I can do, I crawl back to my father with my now broken and totally screwed up toy and cry. My father scoops me up, places me in his lap, and helps me fix the toy until we can pick up where we left off in the lesson. He tells me he loves me so much."

Like I told Peter, I can't promise that this is all 100% theologically sound, I can promise it's much more complicated, but this is how it feels to me. If you're reading this, whoever you are, no advice from me; just know that if you've messed up or broken your life, you're not the first, you won't be the last. We're in this together and I believe God can fix it.

Falling for Autumn Is Easy to Do

Theory: I am willing fall into existence in San Diego.

Proof: I have beautiful changing trees within the courtyards of my apartment complex so that I can look out my window and see bright red leaves against a brilliant blue sky. 'Tis a thing of beauty. Also, my parents are on their first visit to Niagra this week and I prayed VERY hard yesterday that my San Diego sun would be sent to them for the day (rain was predicted for most of their trip) and guess what? Contrary to all the weather reports Mom and Dad did receive sun yesterday and we have clouds! Amazing!

Truth: God is freaking amazing and no matter where I may or may not be in my faith walk right now--He still hears me and I really can't believe how good He is.

Other things that have brought me joy: the Pumpkin Spice Latte from Starbucks, making a pact with myself that I will wear high heels at least twice a week, signing up for another 5k to support breast cancer awareness and forming a team to go with me, no joke--about 10 sightings of man capris in the past week, looking forward to seeing my dearest Sarah at the end of the month (!), compiling a new autumn playlist, a fantastic fall care package from my mom, two stories I'm working on, and a brand new beautiful leather journal I started Wednesday.