Thankful Thursday & a Photo Challenge!

How in the world is it once again Thursday?  Where did the time go?  Don't answer that.  I know how it goes.  Time flies, yada, yada, yada. Here it goes people.  Today I am thankful for the delicious lunch that was delivered to me.  Not the typical kind of delivery dudes.  The kind of delivery that I was not expecting.  The kind of delivery ordered from the sweetest of friends because she knew I wouldn't be able to leave for lunch.  Trust, you do not have a friend like this.  I find myself wondering how deserving I am of such a friend.  A friend who knows what I need.  A friend who knows what I want.  A friend who gives without any expectations.  A friend who loves me.  My heart is bursting with joy.  Again, I ask myself, what did I do to deserve such a wonderful friend?  I am thankful.  I am blessed.  I do not know what I did.  However, I can only hope to keep doing it, time and time again.

Now, for the photo challenge.  You've seen it on instagram.  Your friend did it last month.  You wanted to do it, but didn't.  Well, here is your chance.  My friend Krizia and I decided that it was time to come up with our own challenge.  Sure, it is fine to follow the usual ones.  However, it is way more super to make one yourself.  Don't ya think?  And, if I may say so myself, ours is pretty kick ass (yes, I just said that).  Tomorrow is the day!  Our March Photo a Day Challenge begins.  If you haven't seen it let me explain.  Every day has a description.  Take a photograph that best describes (in your mind) that particular description.  Be creative, be artistic, just be you!  We hope that you join in on the fun (come on, you know you wanna).  Pass it on to your friends.  Have your friends pass it on to their friends.  And, keep on passing it on.  The more the merrier.

You can find me on instagram under the username Rbarbie.  Tag me if you decide to play along.  I sure hope that you do!

xoxo

Romeo, Echo, November, Alpha, Tango, Alpha.

Lately, for no apparent reason my mind wanders to the Starbucks baristas.  Who are these baristas?  What are their ultimate life goals?  Is there such a thing as a professional barista?  Does it matter if their spelling is less than superb?  I have taken many trips to the coffee land known as Starbucks.  In all my trips never has a barista been capable of spelling my name correctly.  Not once.  Not ever.  Renata, it's not like its hard, dudes.  It pretty much goes the same way every-single-time.  The barista says, "And what is your name?".  I respond, clearly, loudly, enunciating every letter "My name is, R-E-N-A-T-A".  The look they give me is priceless.  For what seems like a minute (it's more like a second) the barista pauses and stares at me.  Stares at me as if to say, "Um, come again?". I say my name two, three, sometimes four other times.  Then they usually say something crazy like, "Oh, that is such a pretty name".  When I realize what they have written down, I think, they thought THIS was pretty.  Oh lawdy! And, the end result is always the same.  It's never Renata.  There have been real hilarious ones.  My top favorites are Granada and Ronaldo (WTF! I am pretty sure I look like a girl, no?).  I grab my latte and my eyes go straight to their chicken scratch.  I can not wait to see what they believe I am called.  It is always quite hilarious to see what name they come up with.  So, I've devised a fool proof plan.  Fool proof ladies and gents.  Next time the barista incapable of spelling asks for my name, I am going to bust out the phonetic alphabet.  I will look them in the eyes and in my straightest of faces I will say, "Renata, Romeo, Echo, November, Alpha, Tango, Alpha".  Get it, got it, good!  Who am I kidding.  Knowing the probabilities the barista will probably still jot down, "Grenalda".  Who in the world would name their child Grenalda?  Don't even say it, you would not dare bring such embarrassment to your offspring.  Would you?

xoxo

On Saturdays we eat tacos.

Okay, not really.  I don't eat tacos every Saturday.  I would if I could.  I mean, tacos are pretty darn delicious.  Don't ya think?  And, guacamole.  Sigh.  Who can resist guacamole?  Not this girl.  This girl could eat guacamole errrday, son!  This Saturday was not about tacos at all.  This Saturday was all about T.  You see, T is getting married.  She is getting married and she asked if I would be her bridesmaid.  I know, what an honor, right T?  So, this Saturday, along with two other of T's bridesmaids, Debora and Joanna we took a little trip to the mall.  Actually two malls.  After a couple of stores and an iced vanilla latte later, these girls were hungry.  Hungry for some guacamole.  So, to Rocco's Tacos we went.  The guacamole?  It was good.

And, just as I promised, I brought T that list.  Ya know, the list of things we wanted to do before the "end".  The list of crazy ideas we thought should be accomplished.  That list, oh goodness. Let's just say that good thing it was never discovered by my parents.  At least it brought us some laughs at the table.

I am also enjoying getting to know two very awesome girls. And, I am excited to be a part of T's journey to her special day.  It isn't material things that make life worth living, it is people.  People make our lives worthwhile.  And, I for one, love meeting new people.  I live for new experiences.

Girls, I had a ball, thank you!

Happy Saturday to you, whoever you are, taking the time to read this.  I love you too =)

xoxo

Teressa & Joanna

Teressa & Debora

Teressa & I

The case of dry hands.

"I love to put on lotion, sometimes I'll watch t.v. and go into a lotion trance for an hour.  I try to find brands that don't taste bad in case anyone wants to taste me".
-Angeina Jolie

Correct me if I'm wrong.  However, isn't the whole purpose of lotion to moisturize?  Yeah, my thoughts exactly.  Sigh.  Honestly, I think I may have a serious, serious problem.  It turns out I am completely unable to walk into a store and leave without making a purchase.  I KNOW!  Half of the time it's just lip gloss, or nail polish, or small bottles of lotion.  Which leads me to this little gem.  Ugh.  So, I have really, really, reallllllyyyyy (did I say really?) sensitive skin.  When I complain about not being able to wash the dishes because it dries out my skin, I am not kidding.  Oh, no.  My hands get really dry with just about any soap you can imagine.  The cheaper the soap, the drier the hands.  Which means that I am terrified of public restrooms.  And, not just because of the obvious reasons.  So, the other day as I was walking through Whole Foods sipping my smoothie I came across the lotion section.  Holy moly, lotion for days my friends.  I don't necessarily go for scented lotion.  I especially don't go for lotions that smell like fruit (I've had a really bad experience with Bath and Body Works "Coconut Lime Verbena").  However, this lemon cream stuff, ah, it smelled like a cupcake.  Smelling like a cup cake is okay in my book.  I was excited.  I couldn't wait to get back to my office and try this stuff out.  Turns out the only good thing about this lotion is that it smells like a cupcake.  Apparently, it does nothing in the moisture department.  Nothing.  It makes my hands more dry, actually.  Which is extremely annoying.  My hands need to be silky soft.  J.R. Watkins I am disappointed.  Heartbroken.  Crushed.  My dream of smelling like dessert completely thrown out the window.  So, if you are like me and have a serious case of dry hands, do not, under any circumstance fall for the lemon cream.  Don't even think about it.  My mission on finding THE hand lotion of ALL hand lotions continues.  In the meantime I'll continue to let the dishwasher do its job.

xoxo

And, it's Friday!

"Don't grumble! Don't stew!
Some critters are much-much,
Oh, ever so much-much
So muchly much-much more unlucky than you!"
-Dr.Seuss

Friday,  Ever since I stopped working on Saturdays, Fridays make me a happy girl.  I found this picture on pinterest.  Pinterest.  Seriously, if you want to waste ten, fifteen, an hour of your time take a peek at pinterest.  Anywho, it describes my feelings to the tee.  I fall in love with Friday every week.  Sigh.  Heart racing love.  Fridays mean extra time for shnuggles with the husband.  In my world, Fridays mean, "The Kitchen is Closed".  Oh, yes.  No cooking for this gal.  May your Friday be fabulous.  And, if anything just take a moment to be grateful for another day of life.  Not all of us can be as lucky.

xoxo

Thankful Thursdays.

"I know she's kind of socially retarded and weird, but she's my friend... so, just promise me you won't make fun of her!"
-Mean Girls

I am sorta, kinda, totally slacking on these "Thankful Thursday" posts (shame on me!).  Don't get me wrong.  I have many, many, many things to be thankful for.  Like, for example, just the other day I was telling my friend V how thankful I was for being able to have a peaceful lunch at Whole Foods.  She questioned me as well.  Let me explain.  I was thankful for not having anyone sneeze in my direction as I held my sandwich.  More importantly, I was thankful that not a single person had blown their nose as I ate my Italian bean soup (ugh, can't you just blow your nose outside, or, in the restroom?).  So, see, many things to be thankful for.  It's the little things, yo!

This afternoon I was going through one of my closets and found this little gem.  I am a note hoarder.  A card hoarder.  A picture hoarder.  No, not an animal hoarder.  No, not a food hoarder.  Only cute things.  Things that can be placed in boxes.  Clean and organized boxes.  This list of sorts was written by myself and two others.  All three of us were to come up with certain things we wanted to accomplish before the "end".  No, not the end of the world.  Though, had we known of the possibility of the end of the world coming in 2012 this list would have been more risqué.  It was the end of our youth, so-to-speak.  It was a bucket list of sorts.  I cannot even tell you what fun we had coming up with some of these items.  Such bliss.  Ignorant bliss.  I am thankful for my hoarding tendencies.  If it weren't for that obsessive part of me wanting to KEEP all memories safe, this list would have been somewhere in the garbage dump.  Perhaps, underneath a rotting banana.  Pulling out these two sheets of paper written almost ten years ago brought a smile only my seventeen year old self would comprehend.  I read each item, one-by-one.  I read each word and let the heaviness of them weigh down on me.  A good weight.  A comforting weight.  Something resembling a big warm blanket being brought down upon my shoulders.

I wasn't expecting to find this note.  I wasn't even looking for it.  It just happened to find me.  And, I am so very glad it did.  It transported me to an era where nothing was impossible.  The idealist in me poked its little head.  This weekend I am meeting T.  T is one of the co-creators of this compilation of mini adventures.  I told T I would read each one of them out loud to her.  I told her we would tally how many of those activities we had actually accomplished.  I'll let you know how it goes.

I am thankful for still having T in my life.  The other party responsible?  I know you must be wondering.  I wonder at times as well.  She is just a stranger now.  We are strangers with memories.  Memories that bring us together and memories that tear us apart.

Do kids still do these things?  Do kids still pass notes in class?  Do kids still feel anxiety during that moment the teacher witnesses you pass that note written in pink pen to your friend?  I miss the tangible letters.  The act of writing on paper.  Sigh.

What are you thankful for?  It doesn't have to be something of importance or enormity.  It can be anything.  Like, the fact that today you wore matching socks.  I'd love to hear all that you are giving thanks for!

'Till next time

XOXO

Tuesday Night.

Um, why didn't my mother tell me how much it kinda sucked to be an adult?  Oh, wait, she did.  All that nonsense about, "Renata, enjoy being a kid, you don't want to grow up too fast, trust me".  Apparently, she wasn't joking.  She wasn't trying to keep some big exciting secret from me, nope.  My sweet mother was really just trying to get me to take advantage of all the days of freedom I would have.  Ya know, freedom NOT doing any real work.  Sure, I had chores here and there.  Ya know, the usual, clean my room, load the dish washer, put my clothes away, sit there and look pretty (kidding, kind of).  I was not prepared for the amount of work it takes to maintain a house.  Tell me I am not alone here.  Someone, anyone, hello, are you out there?  Sigh.  The weekends?  ARE NOT MEANT FOR CLEANING!  Yes, yes, there I said it.  Those two sacred days are meant for anything BUT cleaning.  Which leads me to tonight.  Tuesday nights are meant for "Pretty Little Liars", gelato and Mr.Ziggles cuddling on my feetsies.  However, some part of me, a part I did not even know existed (truly) decided tonight would be a great night for cleaning.  Don't get me wrong.  My house is tidy and organized, always.  Now, finding the inspiration to do it, well, let's just say I'd rather go for a five mile jog.  Organizing, well, that is my thang.  Mopping, eh, not so much.

Tonight I think I became an adult.  I gave up watching the one and ONLY show I ever watch on the day it airs to swiffer, vaccuum and mop my entire house.  Not impressed?  Yeah, I wouldn't be either, had that been the ONLY thing I did today.  I worked an eight hour day, left work to take on an excessive amount of traffic, ran an errand, cooked dinner (it was delicious, if I may say so myself) and left the kitchen spotless, SPOTLESS.  I put my big girl panties on and grabbed the mop.  "Pretty Little Liars" was on merely as background noise.  We made such a cute trio tonight.  The swifter, the windex and I.  Perhaps, this is the start of a whole new era?  Ugh, who am I kidding.  This will probably be a once in a lifetime thing.  Actually, tomorrow I may tackle the upstairs (I'll let you know how it goes).

My heart aches for missing the "Pretty Little Liars" tonight.  It aches so badly that I am seriously contemplating waking up an hour earlier tomorrow to watch it (thank the heavens for on demand).  That must make me sound crazy, and, after cleaning the house at eleven at night, it is safe to say that I probably am.  Hi, I'm Renata and I am a teensy bit crazy.  Would you like to be friends?

'Till next time

xoxo

Are you going to eat that?

"Insert the biggest, most awkward silence in the history of big awkward silences."
-Cynthia Hand

It may very well be, the Renata in the picture above, is the sole reason why "awkward" pursues me.  Think of a fly and the lovely electric fly trap.  Clearly, I am the electric fly trap.  Obviously, awkward and all its minions are the flies (because it isn't one instance, it's multiple instances).  The list of awkward moments goes on and on and on and on.  Think of ancient scrolls.  I wish I were kidding.

Which leads me to one of my favorite awkward moments of all.  After so many awkward situations, it tends to just become yet another reason to laugh.  Nowadays, I simply find all these weird little blips hilarious.  Tears inducing hilarious.

Remember that one guy I wrote about.  You know, the one who totally called me out on my shameless screen name?  Let's call him Joe.  Anonymity is important my friends.  Well, it turns out that despite his random and unorthodox flirting methods, he was a pretty nice guy.  The two of us became quick virtual friends.  Mind you, I had never met this Joe face-to-face.  Yes, we had common friends, however, our paths had never crossed.  Oh, never mind the fact that I was 17 and he was twenty something.  One day, Joe became ballsy.  Amidst our conversation about music he asked me out on a date.  Ugh, a date, with someone I've never met in person, why the heck not! It turns out that I am a sucker for strange and unusual.  I agreed, with one stipulation, of course.  I would bring a friend.  And, I suggested he bring one too.  It was settled.  We'd meet at my favorite place, Coldstone's Creamery.  Who can say no to ice cream?  No one.  No one I say.

Somehow I managed to convince my friend to join me.  Okay, I begged her to come with me.  And, even she, could not resist cake batter ice cream with cookie dough and brownies (our obsesh).  My friend and I arrived with minutes to spare.  Yet, where was he?  I hadn't met him, however, I'd seen a picture.  I knew who I was looking for.  Suddenly, my phone rang, it was him. "Where are you?", I blurted.  He quickly apologized for being late and proceeded to say that it wasn't really his fault.  Apparently, his friend had forgotten his shirt?  Yeah, my feelings exactly.  I stifled a chuckle and gave my friend the "WTF" look.  Joe said he'd be there in five minutes and that he was really excited to finally meet me.  I explained to my friend what had happened and we spent the next five minutes laughing at how ridiculous his excuse had been (little had we known). I've left the house forgetting many things.  My shirt?  Not so much.  Once I met his friend I completely understood.

Suddenly, Joe and his friend were standing right in front of us.  Like, where the heck did they come from?  Joe, he wasn't so bad (you know, in the looks department), not really the kind of guy I'd normally go for.  However, like I said, he was a nice guy.  Now, Joe's friend.  Holy moly, my poor friend.  I don't think I've apologized enough.  T, sorry (it was funny though, wasn't it?)!  After our quick introductions we decided it was time to go in.  Mind you, Coldstone's Creamery had recently opened.  It was the "go to" spot for delicious goodness.  Therefore, it was packed.  Nowhere to sit, nowhere to stand, "Dude, you just touched my butt" packed.  Insanity.  We stood in a single file line waiting to be helped.  My friend and I, well, we ordered our usual.  Joe, goodness, he ordered vanilla ice cream with gummi bears.  Who eats gummi bears with their ice cream?  Not this girl.  I laughed and looked at him with the, "Really?" look.  He shyly said, "Yeah, I like gummi bears".  It was cute, sorta.  Each one of us finished our orders and stood looking for a place to sit.

There was ONE table and THREE chairs.  There were FOUR of us.  Joe, being the gentleman that he was forewent a chair.  Sweet, right?  Enter the odd and unusual.  Joe, knelt down in front me.  Yes, knelt down.  Think of the kind of kneeling one does right before one proposes to ones true love.  Sigh.  I turned to my friend and realized she wanted to laugh.  The look was written all over her face.  I swallowed and tried not to burst into a fit of giggles.  The four of us chatted like old friends.  Friends.  Not the, "Oh, I think I see myself totally making out with this dude" kind of thing.  Joe's friend was the quirkiest person I had ever met and made for quite the entertainment.  During our conversation I realized that Joe wasn't eating his ice cream.  Joe, my date, was just kneeling there staring at me.  STARING. Okay, he was gawking too.  I kept hoping he wasn't into cannibalism.   His vanilla ice cream melting.  His gummi bears drowning in a pool of sugary sweetness.  Joe, spent twenty minutes kneeling down in the corner of Coldstone's Creamery glaring at me.  He stared at me and didn't eat his ice cream.  I being the sweet girl that I am said, "Joe, what is the matter, your gummi bears are dying".  Joe chuckled nervously and said, "Yeah, I guess so".

After thirty minutes I knew that there was no future for Joe and I (when you know, you know).  I mean, I just couldn't date someone who could let good ice cream go to waste.  I-just-could-not.  So, my friend and I said we were sorry but that we had to go.  I gave Joe a kiss on the cheek and told him it had been a pleasure.  I left Coldstone's knowing that would be our first and last encounter.  Joe, well, he felt otherwise.  Apparently, in his mind things had gone well.

This was a Friday.  He called me on Saturday.  He called me on Sunday.  He e-mailed me.  His e-mail was priceless.  Somehow, in the short timespan we spent in that crowded Coldstone's Creamery my charm had worked its magic.  He was wooed.  Sigh.  He hadn't eaten his ice cream because I had made him nervous.  Go me?  He couldn't stop thinking about me.  He had seen squirrels frolicking in the parking lot and had been reminded of me.  His words, not mine.  The day after our "date" everything had somehow reminded him of me.  Everything.  Even his trip to the grocery store.  I was flattered, sure.  A smidge weirded out, but flattered.  Listen, I totally see how you may feel this story is fabricated.  I promise you, it is not.  Trust.  That e-mail had nonetheless confirmed my first reaction.  Joe was not for me.  Joe was persistent.  It didn't end well.  Yet, one awkward date was enough for me.  Now and again I think of Joe.  Of our strange date.  Of his weird friend.  That entire night seems so very far away now.  Joe, wherever you may be, I hope you found your vanilla ice cream, gummi bear  topping, loving companion.

My friend and I still laugh about that night.  The double date with the Alien.  It will never be forgotten.

Tell me, have you had an awkward date?  How did you react?  Did you give your date a second chance? Share, share!

xoxo

A Piece of My Moon.

You can find beauty in the most obscure of places, and, for that I am thankful.  Like, how gorgeous does the moon look in the picture below?  The husband and I were driving one night and I look to the right and see the most spectacular view.  The moon.  The awe-inspiring moon.  Obviously I made him bust a u-turn and stop so I could snap this photo (he graciously obliged, that is why I love him so).  There is something magical about staring at nature and the beauty it exudes.  The light radiating from the moon this particular night gave off so much positive energy it made me want to burst (with happiness, of course).  It enraptured me in its glow.  The husband and I sat, for a few minutes, admiring, talking.  It was a beautiful moment.  I'm thankful for these little moments.  The normalcy of it all makes it just a teeny bit more special.  I have to say, since this day, I have yet to see the moon as beautiful.  That night, that hour, that second, that drive, that moon.  It all happened precisely at the perfect time.  It makes me almost, almost want to believe in fate.

xoxo  

Just one Second.

"I urge you to please notice when you are happy, and exclaim or murmur or think at some point, "If this isn't nice, I don't know what is.'"
-Kurt Vonnegut

There are days where I like to drive home in complete and utter silence.  Silence.  Well, if you ignore the muffled sounds of the outside world seeping in through your metal enclosed bubble.  Today was that kind of day.  It's peaceful, ya know.  Sitting in your own little space, with that familiar new car smell still lingering in the air, alone with your thoughts, soul searching, it's good for the soul.  Thirty minutes of pure uninterrupted one-on-one therapy.  Almost as good as real therapy?  Most definitely.  The silence helps me to, "smell the roses", so-to-speak.  It is just a little amount of time I have completely to myself.  Which leads me to believe I would probably benefit from yoga, or meditation, anything involving being at one with myself.  When I was in high school there were weekends where I would unplug my room phone (yeah, I had one of those, slow your roll, it was for the internet) and turn off my cell phone.  Those were happy days.  And, today, during my thirty minutes of silence it dawned on me.  I-am-happy.  So-very-happy (I'm a little hormonal, so, gush is all I can muster).  And, those roses, let me tell you, their scent is intoxicatingly fascinating.  It takes just one second.

xoxo

Building Hope Gala.

FOOD FOR THE POOR, NAMED BY THE CHRONICLE OF PHILANTHROPY AS THE LARGEST INTERNATIONAL RELIEF AND DEVELOPMENT ORGANIZATION IN THE NATION, DOES MUCH MORE THAN FEED MILLIONS OF THE HUNGRY POOR IN 17 COUNTRIES OF THE CARIBBEAN AND LATIN AMERICA.  THIS INTERDENOMINATIONAL CHRISTIAN MINISTRY PROVIDES EMERGENCY RELIEF ASSISTANCE, CLEAN WATER, MEDICINES, EDUCATIONAL MATERIALS, HOMES, SUPPORT FOR ORPHANS AND THE AGED, SKILLS TRAINING AND MICRO-ENTERPRISE DEVELOPMENT ASSISTANCE, WITH MORE THAN 96 PERCENT OF ALL DONATIONS GOING DIRECTLY TO PROGRAMS THAT HELP THE POOR.

This Saturday Felipi and I were privileged to attend our third "Food for the Poor" gala.  "Food for the Poor" celebrated its 18th annual "Building Hope Gala" at the Boca Raton Polo Club.  It is incredible the dedication and work this organization does to help others in need. The stories of these families who struggle each and every day to simply provide their children with food and shelter is heartbreaking.  The gala this year focused mainly on their 2013 development project in Canaan Heights, Jamaica.  We witnessed the day-to-day life of children and mothers whose fight to survive is a battle fought daily.  With tears in her eyes a mother spoke about the challenges she faces, the hopes and dreams she has for her three children.  The hopes and dreams that if not for the generosity of those directly involved with "Food for the Poor" would never come into fruition.  However, it is more than simply donating money, it is about donating your time.  Which "Food for the Poor" accomplishes masterfully.  It is so easy to slip into the habit of taking for granted the wonderful life we have.  It is so easy to allow our bad moods and bad days cloud the reality of how great the life we live truly is.  When was the last time you did not have supper?  When was the last time you did not have clean drinking water?  When was the last time you had to share one room with a family of five?  How different our lives are from those living in poverty.  How blessed we are.  I am working on ridding myself of all the negativity surrounding me.  Because what I have is truly marvelous and I am thankful.  Take a look at the "Food for The Poor" website here.  It doesn't take much to make a difference.  It doesn't take much to change a soul forever.

xoxo