Personal Yummy #3

The night before. Excitement at what lies ahead. Packing more than you need—just in case. Sleep interrupted by eagerness…

Sound familiar?

In the summer of 1996, I took a trip from Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, to Rehoboth Beach, Delaware, with my boyfriend of one year (friend of two-and-a-half). I got up at six a.m., checked the oil and water in my car, threw my luggage in the trunk, and was ready to escape to one of my favorite places. So I picked up my guy, and off we went on our adventure.

Fortunately, unlike a lot of preparations and car rides to go on vacation, which are visited periodically—and sometimes, incessantly—by quarrels over getting ready to go, and, in fact, which direction to go, I am glad to say that ours were free from any of this. And, as my memory serves me, so was the entirety of our trip.

Yes, what stands out in my mind is nothing but fondness and contentment.

We left on a Tuesday and came back on a Friday. Short—you might think—but certainly long enough to enliven and rejuvenate the body and, most importantly, the spirit.

Everything about the trip had significance.

First of all: the motel. I had fears that it might turn out to be—well, in blunt terms—a dump. What—at forty-five dollars a night, in the peak of the season—could one expect? My fears, however, were nonetheless allayed. In fact, the place actually turned out to possess some character. It was painted yellow (my favorite color, believe it or not; the same as my car at the time) and had blue window panes and little black lanterns by each door. On top of that, the name of the establishment was quite interesting: The Fountain Motel. This would usually not be anything important to comment upon, but when the water in the fountain, which was located in the middle of the parking lot of the motel, has trouble rising into the air more than a foot, and reminds me—if I may give it human qualities—of a person trying to wake up very early in the morning, and never quite succeeding, then it is something to remark upon. At the very least, it gave both of us something to chuckle about. And you know what? The motel itself, although modest, was rather comfortable and became like home by the end of our stay.

Moreover, the beach. Nothing can quite compare to the warmth of the sand and the sun, and to the freshness, vitality, and ceaseless moving of the waves. The entire atmosphere of the place is wonderful—everybody mellow and laid-back, with no goal in mind except to enjoy the beauty surrounding them.

Furthermore, everything contributing to the area itself is special: the quaint and cozy beach houses that line the side streets, of all shapes, sizes, and designs, with their owners and their friends sitting on the front porch in the evening and playing cards, or simply chatting and enjoying glasses of red wine; the eclectic shops with both casual and fancy dresses, colorful dangling earrings, candles and soaps of various delicious fragrances, and all sorts of other delights; the busy and active boardwalk; and the intoxicating smell of the night air.

Thus, not only the beach itself, but all the myriad aspects associated with it, had an effect on me.

And—even though the boyfriend of this story is no longer in my life—the entire vacation was all the more precious because I had someone special to share it with. Our lunches at the diner across the street of our motel; the hours spent on cracking and eating hard-shell crabs; the moonlit walks on the pier; the dancing to an oldies band on an outdoor deck: cha-cha-cha-ing to “Blue Moon”; the enjoyment of the water; the waves lapping upon our legs; the refreshing, warm showers after a day luxuriating and reading Lady Chatterley’s Lover on the beach; and the gentle, yet passionate lovemaking under the covers at night… All the moments in life hold so much value, and mean so much more, whenever they are shared with someone you care about deeply.

In simple terms, our trip was magical. Being at a favorite place, and with your favorite person, the one you love:

What could be more perfect than that…

Personal Yummy #2

One sunny and breezy afternoon, on my walk home from having lunch, reading, and writing in Central Park—one of my most favorite things to do when the weather is nice—I arrive at the southwest corner of Eighty-Eighth and Lexington just as an elderly woman with a walker does so. We both wait for the light to turn, and when it does, I proceed to cross over to the northwest corner of the street, although I hesitate a bit, considering whether I should ask the woman, who seems to be in her eighties, if she needs some help pushing her walker over the grooves in the rubber ramp of the curb, because she appears to be struggling somewhat. I hesitate again, however, immediately remembering the time a few years ago when I was on my way up the stone steps to the entrance of Our Lady of Good Counsel on East Ninetieth Street, and having passed an elderly woman in my haste, I thought better of it and turned back around. Looking down at her (she was hanging on to the railing and was having a difficult time at the bottom of the steps), I asked her, in a very agreeable tone, I’m sure, “Do you need some help?” Quite unexpectedly, I must admit—it really knocked me off my rocker, so to say—she flashed angry eyes at me and then said—her voice quite laden with sarcasm—“No, I certainly don’t. Why? Do you???!!!”

Therefore, with my past unpleasant experience in mind (and given my current general attitude that it is usually best to let individuals be independent and fend for themselves unless you are certain that they need assistance), I decide to allow the woman to take care of crossing the street herself. So I don’t say anything. But, in all actuality, I’m finding it hard not to observe her, and I really can’t keep my eyes off her.

She is gripping the handles of her walker as she moves slowly over the curb and onto the street, but what is significant about her is that she is severely hunched over and has to crane her neck all the way up and to the right (her right ear toward the sky) so that she can see where she is going. But what is really significant about her—I just love it so much—is the way she looks. Because of the angle at which her head is turned, it causes her straight, blonde, fashionable shoulder-length hair to fall freely in the air, like a beautiful, shimmering waterfall. And her eyes are protected behind oversize, full, prominent, black Jackie Kennedy–like sunglasses. What’s more, she’s wearing a colorful, sleek, shiny, thin fall coat that she hasn’t buttoned, one that you would most definitely see Carrie Bradshaw showcasing.

Suddenly, I am so happy that I decided not to offer her help. She obviously wanted to conquer getting past the curb and crossing the street on her own, just as she has conquered her infirmities with her girlish, uninhibited style.

She eventually arrives next to me once again, and then the light again changes. I hesitate one more time, certainly not ready to stop observing her. But of course I can’t stand there watching her forever. So I smile in her direction and then go on my way, realizing that it was a beautiful thing to be in the presence of so much gumption, if even for just a moment.

Personal Yummy #1

For many years now, I’ve been a fan of taking walks. Not only does a walk clear my mind, but it gets my endorphins and imagination flowing. Lately—that is, ever since I quit my corporate job and have been working from home—I’ve been taking frequent walks on Madison Avenue (the Madison Avenue of New York City, to be clear). If I’ve been working at the computer for a few hours and I find that my mind is getting tired and I’m feeling a bit restless, I’ll change out of my shorts or sweatpants and put on a pretty dress and some lipstick, and then out the door I go, into the sunshine and on my way to observe all of the beauty that Madison Avenue radiates. I’ll start around Eighty-Eighth Street and then head downtown, and I’ll cover about fifteen or twenty blocks—sometimes less, sometimes more, depending on how I’m feeling and how much time I’ve decided to devote to this energizing activity.

There’s something about surrounding yourself with beautiful things. In essence, it’s as if those beautiful things rub off on you and make you feel beautiful yourself. And there are certainly plenty of beautiful things on Madison Avenue: art galleries and museums; chocolate, pastry, and wine shops; window displays of sexy shoes, elegant perfumes, colorful lipsticks, sleek coffeemakers, and gorgeous dresses; the attractive blond guy with the noticeable blue eyes standing in front of the men’s clothing store where he works, winking, saying hello, and telling you that he really likes the deep purple dress you’re wearing; coffee and tea cafés with sidewalk seating; a young black boy of about ten exhibiting his paintings on one corner, saying as you walk by, “Hello. I’m an artist. Would you like to take a look at my work?”; La Maison du Chocolat, the Paris-based chocolatier that takes chocolate to the next level; Ladurée, the upscale bakery specializing in French macarons in many flavors (you must see the stacks of colorful, Easter egg–colored macarons lining the windows, and the tiny, elegant tea shop with the elaborate tables just inside); La Perla, the fancy lingerie boutique, featured in the “Great Sexpectations” episode of Sex and the City (Season Six: Part One, Episode Two); and, my favorite—I never get tired of walking by it—the inviting façade of The Carlyle, the famous luxury hotel.

Furthermore, it doesn’t even matter if you currently can’t afford those beautiful things. Or even if you don’t have any aims to be able to ever afford those beautiful things. Simply being near them and observing them provides all you need. In fact, research has confirmed that beautiful sights and objects have therapeutic benefits, fulfilling your need for pleasure. Moreover, beauty ignites the relaxation response and spatial awareness.

So, the next time you’re in New York City, be sure to take a long walk on Madison Avenue. However, in the meantime—or even if you never plan on visiting The Big Apple—take a walk on your favorite street in your city or hometown, and enjoy all the beauty it has to offer.

I just bet it’s waiting for you to notice.

Personal (adjective): 1) of, relating to, or affecting a particular person; 2) carried on between individuals directly.

Yummy (adjective): highly attractive, appealing, and pleasing.

Personal Yummy (noun): pursuits and delights that bring me joy and—by sharing them with you—will inspire you to try them out and experience them for yourself, so that you can be joyful too!

About a year ago (one year, two months, and twenty-nine days, to be exact), and after many months of battling it over in my mind, I left my corporate job as an editor in the marketing department of a financial services firm to focus on my passionate pursuits. These pursuits include, among many others, landing a job dancing in a Broadway show, finishing my collection of short stories, vignettes, and character sketches that I’ve been working on for years (off and on, whenever I’ve had the time), and getting the collection published.

These are big dreams, I know. Thus far, I’ve attended countless auditions, certainly learning a great deal about the procedure of auditioning and, most importantly, about how to handle rejection and how to keep going. Moreover, I’ve made significant progress on my story collection (relishing having entire days at a time to devote to working on it, which rarely occurred when I was working at my corporate job), and I am looking forward to submitting the polished draft to agents soon.

What has been best, though, about this upheaval of my schedule and my daily life (it has really surprised me, but I am still adjusting to the change of not having a job to go to every day) is that I have learned to savor the process of attaining my goals, instead of constantly being frustrated by it. When you’re focused on doing that, all of the beauty in so many things—major and minor—shows itself in abundance. And I plan, on these pages, to share that beauty with you.

So get ready for lots of insights and good stories, and a sense of wonder to permeate all you do.

Thanks for joining me!

Good company in a journey makes the way seem shorter. — Izaak Walton