City Harvest-Giving Back & Being Grateful

Wednesday night my mother and I went to a charity event for an organization called City Harvest. This 25 year old group of volunteers and workers rescue food from markets, hotels, restaurants, etc., to feed the hungry all over New York. I was so touched by the giving spirits of the people who founded and run this project that I feel compelled to volunteer whatever time I have to this noble cause. Only $1.40 can feed a person for a week; that's cheaper than a train ride. So I figure, the more I walk, the more transportation money I save that can feed a hungry child or an elderly person who can't feed him/her -self. I won't miss that money, and I'll be better off for having "sacrificed" it. And that's just one of many things I plan to do to help the people involved, which include such notables as Rachel Ray, Eric Ripert, American Express, Credit Suisse, DKNY, and all the "little people" who aren't famous that make this all possible.

A man who is a truck driver shared his life story with us, telling us how he was homeless 20 years ago and was in soup kitchen lines, wondering how he was going to feed his family. A worker at the kitchen, part of City Harvest, suggested that he could work with them since he was jobless, had no place to go, and could use the help. Fast forward 20 years, and this man has a steady job, can feed himself and his family, and is helping others in their time of need. What could be better or feel more rewarding than that? Listening to him and seeing all the people who need aid, makes me feel so grateful for everything I have. I wrote not too long ago to complain about not having my own place--now I feel like a fool. Sometimes it takes occasions like this dinner to put things into perspective. I am one of the lucky ones, and I know that. I will not take for granted; rather I will give back as a token of my thanks to the universe.

People now more than ever, need to band together to help those who can't help themselves. These number will continue to climb as the recession in this country continues to lay workers off of jobs they've held for years, as more and more people can't afford the houses they live in; as graduates come out of college and into a workforce that can't accommodate them, and as senior citizens can't afford to retire because they no longer have pensions and/or not enough social security with which to sustain a peaceable life, we must lend a hand whenever we are able. I vow to do my part, give up the superficial outings and purchases to uplift the rest of my community. I urge you to do the same.

Volunteer here.

Book Club Books

I've been asked a few times to keep posting the books my book club has been reading, but I keep forgetting to. We just finished reading The Way to Paradise, by Mario Vargas-Llosa, which was one of the best takes on historical fiction I have ever read. There was an overall consensus that it was a great read when my girls discussed it two nights ago at a delicious Peruvian restaurant I frequent in NYC called Pio Pio.

The April book is Jitterbug Perfume, by Tom Robbins. I'm one-third of the way through this book, and so far I'm enjoying it; it's fantastical, philosophical, witty and fun. I can't wait for everyone else to read it so we can delve into deep conversations about this one. Each of our beliefs, philosophies, and views on life itself will be revealed, I predict.

So there you have it, my avid readers. Enjoy!

Women Against Cancer

I recently signed up to do a 5k from Times Square to Central Park for the Revlon Run/Walk: Women Against Cancer and am so excited. It's on May 2nd, and I've decided to run it--well my run is really a "wog," but we don't need to be technical here. ;)

For those in the NYC area, please come out and support this worthy cause, or sponsor me! I'd greatly appreciate it. Just click here to donate on my fund raising page. I just hope the weather's nice; if it starts raining or is cold however, then maybe I'll finish in record time!

Calling a Spade a Spade

A very educated and cool girlfriend of mine in Miami (which is hard to come by) posted a funny, insightful note today about how sensitive certain words, slang, and phrases have become since Obama became our president. Race has always been a hot topic, but now that we have a black man in office, everyone seems to be a bit more careful with their word choice. Here's what Dianna wrote today:

I can't help but laugh when I hear public figures tap dance around certain terms that they would not hesitate to use if Obama was white. This learned gentleman was trying to explain the possibilities for negotiations with Iran on Diane Reem this morning and he actually stuttered out the following:

"...that's something they (Iran) never received with the Bush administration, and that's something they've gotten in sp....uh, great quantities, from the Obama administration."

Talk about quick thinking! The word he wanted was SPADES, the idiom for which is "in spades": To a considerable degree: They had financial trouble in spades.

The definition of the word spade itself however, causes concern:
Spade 2 (spd) n.1. Games
a. A black, leaf-shaped figure on certain playing cards.
b. A playing card with this figure.
c. also spades (used with a sing. or pl. verb) The suit of cards represented by this figure.
2. Offensive slang used as a disparaging term for a Black person.

He obviously realized very quickly that might not be the best choice...it's so silly that this kind of panic has to happen at all, but I suppose I'd rather have them err on the side of polite and respectful. Plus, it's kinda entertaining to hear them scramble to recover. :)

I agree, Dianna. A lot about this topic has been cropping up as of late; there are subtle hints all over the media. 30 Rock, a show I watch religiously, jokes about it all the time. For example, when Alec Baldwin's character was dating Salma Hayek, who was acting as a Puerto Rican nurse, he was stumbling for the "right thing" to call her, as if Puerto Rican sounded derogatory somehow. There are other instances they portray that I see a lot in real life, like non-black people not knowing what to call black people. They stutter and stumble, confused and conflicted about whether to say "African-American," or "Afro-American," as if "Black" might somehow be offensive. So long as I don't here colored, nigger, or negro coming out of a non-black person's mouth, I'm cool. But no one knows what to call each other anymore. I say, let's just call a spade a spade, haha! (spoken from a Chinegro, a Blasian, an Amerasian who can basically say whatever she wants without negative repercussion--I'm considered race-neutral...I think...wait, is there such a thing?)

Too Close for Comfort

I've finally made the transition from SoBe to NYC, and have been living with my mom. We're pretty close: we work together, eat together, shop together, travel together, etc., and now we live together in her one-bedroom apartment. I appreciate our relationship, our newfound closeness, and everything she's done for me--she's the best. All that said, I feel like a child again, or at least a teenager who thinks she's grown (as all teenagers feel). The only problem is I AM GROWN. After living on my own for years in a large apartment all to myself for the most part, I am now sharing a space 1/2 the size, I've given up 1/2 my wardrobe, 1/2 of my tv-watching time--and anybody who knows me knows I need my tv time--and all of my "me" time. To top it all off, we now share the same accountant! I'm a very private person who only tells people just enough information, and now I feel like I've been forced to be completely transparent. I'm very uncomfortable with this arrangement, yet at the same time, I do appreciate her assistance in the "Get Vicky's Life Together Project." I feel like I"m stuck between a rock and a hard place: I want to be close, but I don't want to be too close. Having a talk with her about it might blow up in my face and make what looks like a good situation bad, it might hurt her feelings, and it will definitely make me look the insensitive a-hole I've been accused of being my entire life.

I think I just need my own place and my own tv. Then I can shut up about the whole friggin' thing. Except for the accountant...