Jim Beam on the rocks...

Hi there inquisitive Internet reader, welcome to my blog post. It’s written by me, Molly, your typical blonde hair, green eyed 28-year-old non-married basic white girl. I live in Baltimore city in a closet-sized bedroom with a roommate who refuses to clean, on a block surrounded by a combination of young, hip married couples and some questionable families who have far too many people and animals living in their rowhouses.

I have an older brother and sister and as my mom likes to share with all of my friends, I was the “surprise.” If that wasn’t a bad enough start, my family decided to get more complicated 13 years ago when my grandparents started dating. Yes, you read that right. My mom’s dad and my dad’s mom got together...

I’m sure you have plenty of questions, so let me start at the beginning. In 2003, my grandmother (mom’s mom) passed away [sad moment alert] and shortly after my other grandmother (dad’s mom)’s boyfriend/significant other/not-sure-what-they-called-each-other man friend also passed away after ‘dating’ for 10 years. So, my grandparents turned to each other to cope. Of course, they had known each other almost 30 years by that point; why not lean on a good friend for comfort? At least that’s what we thought it was.

The first time we realized something was different was when my aunt came to bring my grandpa his groceries for the week and all of a sudden he had gotten a brand new king sized bed in his apartment (to accommodate his new girlfriend’s request, of course). We were all slightly stunned, my siblings and me especially. I mean, how do you process that your grandparents are dating? When does that EVER happen?

They were happy though, spending weeks at a time at each other’s retirement homes, playing golf and enjoying cocktail parties. They found it quite hilarious the confused look they would get when they had to explain they met because their children had gotten married to each other and they shared three grandchildren. I remember one time I was with both of them and while my grandpa was chatting with a friend of his, my grandmother introduced me to someone else as “John’s granddaughter.” I had to remind her that I was her granddaughter too! She just laughed because she didn’t realize. What in the world kind of situation is that?!

People always ask me if they ever decided to get married. The short answer is no, which thank god actually because explaining THAT family tree to everyone would have made things wayyyy more complicated. The long answer is that my grandmother decided long ago after my other grandfather (dad’s dad) passed away that she would never re-marry. I think part of it was to honor him and part of it was to protect his and her hard-earned money. We all knew this; it was pretty common knowledge. 

What we didn’t realize however, is that my other grandfather (mom’s dad) had not only proposed marriage to her during their ‘courtship,’ but he did it multiple times and even gave her a diamond ring (which we found much later, by the way because they hid it from all of us). Obviously each time she said no, but can you imagine attending that wedding??? Anyway, moving back to my story…

[Sorry, sad alert again]

Well, by February 2015 both grandparents’ health had dwindled. They hadn’t seen each other in quite some time as both couldn’t travel, but they still lit up talking to each other on the phone every few days. None of us could have possibly fathomed that both would pass within 24 hours of each other. The craziest part is that my grandmother went first and my aunt was going to tell my grandpa the next day but didn’t even have a chance to. We joke that she just said to him “Okay, John, it’s time to go – we have a party to get to!” 

 

It’s quite the story and while sometimes it was a little strange to see them together like that, I wouldn’t have traded those years for anything. They made me who I am today and it just goes to show the power of love, a solid cocktail, and a good king sized bed.

New girl in the USA

As I landed onto JFK airport, I saw around me people of all different kinds: possibly the most diverse crowd of people I had seen my entire life. They were chatting, laughing, eating and just going about their business. Nobody seemed to stare at me because I was skinny wearing jeans, or because I was not travelling with a male guardian or just because I was a female, which was quite unlike what I was used to until then. It was, magical in a very normal kind of a way. As I took my steps ahead and started walking, I found myself merging within the crowd. Everybody was moving forward with me, as if they are accepting me and embracing me, true to what American values suggest. That was my first day in the USA, three years ago, and I have loved it here since.

Hello everybody, my name is Aylia. I am from Karachi, Pakistan and I came to the USA in August 2013. That was my first ever plane trip anywhere and I owe it to my college that made it possible for me to come to the USA when they offered me scholarship to study here. I am majoring in Business with a concentration in Accounting and am currently a Junior. I am the IT help desk assistant on campus and am currently looking for summer internships preferably in Accounting or Finance. So if you guys know about any, help me out here! 

My favorite TV series are How I Met Your Mother (so sad it’s over now), Homeland (Quin better be alive in season 6!!!), and Nathan For You because I have a crush on Nathan Fielder! My favorite actor is Shah Rukh Khan, (watch a GIF of him blow a kiss here <3). I love to read, cook, dance, and sleep, very often very much, and a lot. I love shopping, even if it is just window shopping, which it is most of the time. I used to love reading novels and fiction, something I don’t have the time to do now sadly. One book I would suggest is “A Thousand Splendid Suns”, but it will make you weep like a baby; not a normal baby, rather a baby who hasn’t eaten or slept in days and is also constipated. I am a strong introvert and have very few close friends, but once I get to know people I’m usually fun. If you’re looking to break the ice, talk to me about food, music, Bollywood, love, and world peace, or take me out for Indian/Pakistani cuisine and a cappuccino with a heart on it! I wish I knew how to play the guitar and was good at sports. The only outdoor sport I have ever played is badminton and cricket when I was little. But when I was growing up, the new wave of Islamic extremism came over in Pakistan and girls couldn’t even walk around the city without their heads covered, let alone play on the streets.

In the not-so-distant future, I see myself working in an executive position in one of the big four accounting firms, and starting a family. I love kids, but only if they are cute. I sometimes worry about what will happen if my child is not cute. Will I still love him/her? I joke with my boyfriend that the only reason I’m dating him is because he has dimples and is super cute. He believes that I’m joking. However, the real reason is that this increases my chances of having cute babies.  

Do I miss home? Of course I do. I miss the city where I grew up. But more than being nostalgic, I am sad for that place. Because when that same area where I used take late night walks with my dad becomes a center of protests in favor an established murderer or the street where my school van used to pass by becomes a place to hang the head of a person who was killed in cold blood because of his advocacy of secular and progressive values, and things like these become daily trends, it’s hard to feel anything but anguish and sorrow for such a place. People back home are confused. These are people who reject the only two Nobel Prize winners of the country just because they aren’t “Muslim enough” and curse the hell out of Malala Yousufzai, the fellow compatriot who won the Nobel Peace Prize 2014, and call her an “American and Jewish conspiracy to defame Pakistan”. But on the one hand, they want to be able to go to the malls and cinemas and enjoy good street food and be able to wear jeans and listen to music, and on the other hand they voice their support to make Pakistan an Islamic country and implement Sharia law officially. Some people actually want that to happen, but others are just afraid to get killed if they opinionate against it. But people like us are so busy trying to survive, that they forgot to be brave. Hopefully things get better soon. The fashion scene, music and arts, and the entertainment industry in general is blooming for sure. There’s so much culture to preserve. The Indo-Pakistani South Asian culture is beautiful and enchanting, but unfortunately is being eaten away by Islamic extremism which is like a tumor killing the society slowly and gradually. This is not going to change unless people realize that human beings have rights, ideas, books and imaginary beings up in the sky do not.

I miss my family though. My dad inspires me because he fought through all stereo-types and social and religious barriers by raising his daughters the same as his son. He gave us values of liberty of thought, freedom of speech, importance of education, gender and sexual equality, feminism etc. I talk with my parents often. They are busy with the typical routine of middle-class hard-working professionals, and I can’t wait until I am able to support them financially. For the time being, they are very happy that I am safe and happy here. I obviously love it here. I made amazing friends and have met lovely people. I can finally wear a sleeveless top in public without having to fear somebody throwing acid on my hands. I can go out with my boyfriend without fearing somebody stoning me to death. I can eat and drink whatever I want. And most importantly, I can express how I feel without fearing prosecution.

My road to the future is uncertain. College for now, but I don’t know what comes later. I wish I can stay here, and continue to grow personally and professionally and contribute to the economy with my education and skills, and in the end, make the world a better place. Every once in a while, when life gives me some time from my busy schedule, I think about how blessed I am.

To end this, here's wishigng you all a great 2016!

Rockymore to Baltimore

As a child I had to learn to like my last name. In grade school every time a teacher would say “Jamie Rockymore?” students snickered and I would roll my eyes, impatiently waiting for the teacher to call on the next person. I cringed when a teacher pronounced my last name wrong, which made matters worse! I admired common last names like Adams, Johnson, or even Williams. Who in their right mind would give someone a last name like ROCKYMORE?

Thanks to my grandparents who decided to have twelve children, I had a boatload of cousins with the same last name as mines. Growing up I got use to people telling me about my older family members, who appeared to make my last name great. In high school I’d stick my chest out or swing my hair to the side saying my last name with pride. People bragged about my older cousins and how they wouldn’t dare mess with me because of their reputation. I thought to myself hey it’s not so bad having this last name after all. 

When I got to college people thought the name Rockymore was cool. Too bad my personality didn’t match with it. I traded the nightlife the average college student would experience, for nights at the library studying for the next exam. I practically lived there, and it wasn’t because I was a genius. Classes were too difficult for me to understand. My major was psychology and at some point I asked myself why do I care about how people think? But after hours of studying and learning so much about Sigmund Freud and his theories, I graduated. Although I had a limited social life I managed to keep a few friends around.

Graduating with a bachelor’s degree in 2009 was a big step, and as every speaker said at commencement, it was the beginning of the rest of my life. So there I was, a young 21-year-old female planning my next step. I decided to take a bold step and hit the high road. I left the Steel City, the yellow bridges, and the famous Terrible Towel for a city that loved crabs and used something called “the beltway” to get around. It was a big change, a lot different from Pittsburgh. I had get used to seeing a company called Raven’s Taxi, confusing exits, and some place called The Fudgery where people sing while making fudge.

 I was engrossed with the Baltimore accent. No one said yinz, pop, or even hoagie for goodness sake, which made me feel like an outcast. Not only that, I had to learn how to pay so many bills with so little money. Matters became worse after the second day of training for a job I was hired to do. I was told the job I thought I had was no longer available. Thankfully, I saved enough money to last me a couple of months and make ends meet.

Two months later, I landed a position at Sheppard Pratt. I thought it was a cool job but every time I told someone where I worked, they looked at me as if they were surprise I was still alive. Needless to stay I am still working there, so you can say I am pretty good at what I do!

Fast-forward to 2011, I had my first car accident. It was a disaster, I mean I was scared, and didn’t know what to expect. It all happened so fast! When I seen the damages of my car I burst into tears and was nearly on the ground petrified! People came running and asking me if I was okay, it was obvious I wasn’t. Needless to say no one was hurt just two banged up replaceable cars. I was forced to get a new car, which happens to be where I met the love of my life who happens to be the man I am going to marry later this year.

Two years from now I will be approaching thirty and I must say my twenties were pretty interesting. There were a lot of lessons I learned and  risks I had to take in order to be where I am now. Other than my last name I love God, Tootsie (my dog), writing, dancing, singing in the car, and most importantly my Steelers. If I can entertain all of these things in one day I am one happy camper!  

What's in a Name?

                   Just to get all of the fancies out of the way... Hello! My name is Candice, but, the username I often use on social networks, is Iris. Hence the lovely picture display I placed up there just for you. Oddly enough, I happen to have a lot of online names. As the main base, I tend to use Midori4life. It's been years I've used the name Midori, to the point where some family members call me by that name. Midori means green in Japanese. Green just so happens to be my favorite color, and anyone who knows me knows that. This is because, well, I tend to wear green a lot. But to get back to the point of usernames and me having so many. Let me back track a little.
                    Typically when joining a site or a game, or some sort of group on the internet, the creators of the site give you the option to register, with a user name and a display name. The two names can be the same, they could be different. Typically, the username is something very exact to the person, so if someone else tries to set a username that is already in use, a error message would come up saying as much. "Sorry! This username is already taken!! Please choose another!". This being the case most people tend to come up with something so unique to them that they can use it over and over for multiple sites.
                    For example someones username may be queenstar82. That username will be used for the site to attach the activities of queenstar82 to queenstar82. Hope I haven't lost you yet, cause there is more. This is why most sites give the option of having a display name as well. Usually the display name is able to be changed where as the username is not. If a person wanted to change their username, often times, they'd have to create a new account to associate themselves with. Where as the display name, typically is able to be changed with the weather.
                   All this to say, that usually my username is Midori4life, but my display name is often Iris. Sometimes it varies, based on my mood. For the most part though, everyone online calls me Iris. Hence, as I mentioned before, the beautiful display I made and placed up there just for you!

                   Alright! Now on to the fun stuff. Not sure if you've realized this or not, but I am more than sure that many people sign up on line and register for sites, like more than one. Like I said a bit earlier, a lot of people tend to use the same one. As for me, all of my display names have stories and in a way mark as a certain part of me. The name Iris** didn't just fall out of the sky. Neither did Zao, Winter, or Midori. Those are the three I'll tell the story of sense they are so close.
                   If you have yet to notice, names are very very very important to me. I learn names of people and remember forever. If I get close to someone, or like some one, I rename them the moment it seems fit to me, and often times I'd tell that person right then and there "Hey, I like you, your special to me, I'm going to call you So in so, is that okay with you?" Usually, well typically the answer is yes. I've become sort of known for it, to the point where some folks ask to be nicknamed by me. It's a thing I do. But, I digress, back to my display names.
                 The name Midori, as I mentioned before is because of my favorite color being green, it doesn't really run much deeper than that. The name Zao I heard in theater class one day while working on a play. I got cast as that character. Soon after reading through a few of his lines, I fell in love with his personality. This was before I had a very large media presence. A few years down the line, one of my close friends used the name Hao for her display name, which of course sent my mind directly to the name Zao. I freaked out. I attacked her almost instantly to tell her the story, and right then I changed my display name from Midori to Zao.

                  A bit after that someone I had recently met, name was Forrest. I talked to Forrest often, so I changed my display name to Meadow. The thing is though, with that situation, the name did not spread like wild fire, where as the name Zao did. I used Zao everywhere for a bit of time. Here's why the display name Meadow is important. After some time, I decided that I didn't want to be Meadow anymore. You may be thinking to yourself, "Well why does it matter?" It matters! It does matter!! What's in a name? Everything. It's your identity. It is who you are. It is who you are referred to as. It is what people call you most. It is how people remember who you are. It is important. It matters.
                  Because I no longer wished to be referred to as Meadow, I wanted to change my display name. Not often before had I wanted to change my display name without already having a new name in mind. I went to a friend. I asked for help because the temporary display name I had been using until I came up with a more suitable one was Shy. Anyone who knows me, knows that I am not shy. In which case I had to come up with something more fitting, sooner than later.
                   With the help of a recently new friend, I came up with the name Iris** The story behind that is a very short one. I told my friend that I no longer wanted to use the Meadow, she told me the name Shy wasn't suitable. Soon after she told me that I some how reminded her of a flower, for some reason that was odd to me. I have no clue why, I can't explain that, but I took the compliment. She ventured on to ask me what my favorite flower was. I responded iris of course! I changed my display name at that very moment, and from then on, I have been referred to as Iris**
                    Since then I've added the name Winter to the front of it. But I don't really get called Winter, that was literally for the season. Come to think of it, I may be removing that part of the name soon. I really do like the name Iris, it has grown on me and the puns never get old, because the iris is apart of the eye as well. Because I am on social networks so often, I met people and they call me by what ever display name is shown. This being the case, on the internet, I am known as Iris**

                   I have a group chat on Skype and an app called Kik. On these two messaging apps I am known as Iris** They call me this, when they are excited to see me, when I seem sad, or worried, or upset. They use this name to get my attention, to thank me, to help me realize that because of me, they have circle of new friends that they probably otherwise never would have met. In these groups, I am the glue that brought these folks together and they go to these group chats to talk to other people who care about them.
                    In my group chat on Kik that I run, I change the theme every few weeks. In the chat we are always changing our display names and our profile pictures to fit the characters in the theme of the week. For example, the theme was "The Smurfs Village". I was Grouchy Smurf and before that, right around Christmas, the theme was "Whoville". I was Mr. Grinch, and one of my friends was Max the dog. The group only has about 15-17 members in it, from all over the place. Seeing what characters they decide to be, based on the theme is interesting because often the character that they choose reflect their own personality in some way. Right now the theme is "Cartoon Network" which allows the members of my group chat to be any character from that channel that they wish. There's a Bubbles from The Power Puff Girls, there's a Ed from the T.V. show Ed, Edd, and Eddy, there's a Dee Dee, from Dexter's Laboratory any many many more. I'd have to say one of my favorite references in the chat is my friend who decided to be Samurai Jack!

**********************

                    What is there to a name? A lot. An entire being. Beings are important. You are important. What does your username or display name mean to you? What does your birth name mean to you? What would you name a pet if you were to get one soon? What's in a name? Everything.
                 

Greg Durham- My travel planning

I'm a big believer in travel. It opens up worlds and erases preconceptions better than almost anything I know. It forces people to get outside of their creature comforts and it really taps into what it means to connect with others. I went to a ton of places with with my family when I was younger. Now, I take my wife and kids on trips each and every year.

Maria and Greg Durham

Arianna at beach

Cody at beach

Each year, usually in August, we go somewhere new. Last year, we went to Albania, Montenegro, and Croatia. The year before, it was South Africa. Before that, China. The year before that, Colombia and Panama. Before THAT, Estonia. The year prior to THAT, we went to Serbia. The year before that, it was Greece.

We can play this game going far far back, but you get the picture. 

Actually, the process is more accurately is as follows: each year, I obsess on picking a new spot, hopefully not too popular. Or if it is popular, somewhere that's the antithesis of somewhere easy and close.

 I find out options galore; I scout flights, hotels, B and Bs, activities. I look for getaways within the getaway. I figure out the history, cultural mores, incendiary topics/no-go sore spots in their land, as well as famous people, famous expats, famous contributors from their country. I painstakingly absorb the culture of my attention to where I watch their TV shows, listen to their music...trying to feel what they feel. It doesn't matter that I don't speak their language one bit. There's a higher language at play.

I become a savant about the country that's become the object of my affections. I read their authors or any news I can find about them. If I find someone from the country BEFORE going, I'll chat them up and ask them questions. Not weirdly, mind you- but from a place of genuine curiosity. I eat their food, find out about their faith, study their athletes, look at their political systems.

A quick aside: this isn't anthropology here- I travel BECAUSE I want to see new places and people. If I were in Bangui, in the Central African Republic and someone I've befriended made me gorilla hand as an entree,  then dammit I'm eating the hand. I respect host cultures and very much am aware I am on THEIR turf. I DO NOT try to recreate America after going on a 16 hour flight, I jump in to wherever I'm going. What I do is respectful...to me, what isn't respectful is being the living stereotype of the Ugly 'Merican.

"But you're taking your kids...is it.... safe?"

I'm 6'3" and weigh 260 lbs. No one ever messes with me or us. Besides, we don't party, we're not looking for trouble, and we live respectfully. So no- we don't endanger the kids. We're always fine on our trips- even when our travels take us to meet and hang out at length with complete strangers in different countries for hours or or days. 

What fuels me is the naive faith, tempered by experience, that things will usually work out well when we come from a sincere place!

My wife has a different take. She claims she doesn't like flying. Fair enough. And she has to ultimately agree on the vacations I propose. So my tactic of choice is that I wear her down for our July-August trip by beginning my research in January.

Our plans get modified along the way, of course. The China trip started out as a vacation to Burma, South Africa as Ethiopia, and Albania originally was supposed to be Kazakhstan. I have feeling our potential trip to the DPRK this summer will get adjusted to their southern neighbor, South Korea. So be it.

What's the John Meynard Keynes quote from the 50s? The one where a reporter asked him about why his views and opinions were so, er, flexible? Keynes replied, "When the facts change, I change my opinions. What do you do, sir?" Exactly. 

My obsessive trip-searching can get wiped clean by a change of events, lack of funds, or lack of interest from everyone else. It can suck, but that's how it works sometimes. I go back to the drawing board for a new adventure very often.

A lot of the fun I have with travel comes precisely FROM the research, the scouting, the price shopping. It's the process that makes me want to dig deeper, not imagining the perfect day abroad. In a way, I think my planning is no different than a 10 year-old boy's fascination with trading and collecting baseball cards: the hobby can sometime exceed the "game" itself.

Petsitting saved my house

My name is Jenny Gordon.  I had just turned 30 and was going through the biggest failure of my life. 

I had excellent grades in school.  A good job.  Listened to my parents.  Bragged my marriage would last forever because I was a child of divorce and had learned what not to do.  And there I was anyway.  DIVORCE.  The life I planned was over.  The expectations my ex and I had for each other just didn't pan out.

And then there was our house.  My beautiful three story townhouse purchased just two years before, at the height of the real estate boom.  Prices had fallen and the market was tanking.  It would cost me money to keep it or to get rid of it.  My ex washed his hands of it.  And yet I wanted to keep it so badly.  It was my happy, comforting place.  But on only one income, I needed another way to make more money.  I need a second job.

I picked up my broken self and set out to get a second income.  Waitressing was easy money, wasn't it?  I had never done it before but I could learn.  I applied at several restaurants and got hired.  There wasn't a specific training program, it was trial by fire.  After the first night working I arrived home to my happy townhouse in tears.  My body ached from many hours on my feet.  I had spilled a tray of food.  And did the customer want Bud Light or Coors Light?  My mind wasn't able to retain such small details.  I called up and quit.  I had failed again.

As I took comfort again in my home, I looked around and it realized how clean it was.  I could clean houses!  I told friends and co-workers and the next thing I knew I had a roster of six housecleaning clients.  I did a good job but it was hard physical work.  After two months all the bending and twisting had taken a toll on my back.  I went to the doctor and chiropractor.  The diagnosis - I would eventually get better but I had to stop cleaning houses.  I had failed once again.

"Jenny, you're a winner.  You're not used to failing.  You will succeed again because you're a winner."

How many more blows would I be dealt?  At that point I had something to prove.  My father, one of my biggest supporters, said "Jenny, you're a winner.  You're not used to failing.  You will succeed again because you're a winner."  Then fate happened.  My best friend from college had a booming side business of petsitting.  She had too many clients and gave two to me.  My two clients turned into four, then six, then ten.  I was the one turning down clients as my business started to boom.  The extra money paid my bills and I got much joy from watching pets.  I couldn't possibly pick a favorite ...

• The terrier that adored taking walks
• The six-toed cat that snuggled for hours on my lap
• The indoor/outdoor cat whose buddy cats in the neighborhood would swing by the house for a nighttime prowl
• The four golden retrievers who greeted me at the door with barks of happiness

The owners were equally delightful.  The older couple who went to India for three weeks and said they wouldn't have gone on the trip of a lifetime if I hadn't watched their dogs.  The small business owner who went to Europe and asked me to open her mail, sign her checks, and make a $10,000 deposit in her account so her tax payment wouldn't bounce.  One lady who lived in the country warned me to watch out for "critters" because raccoons often came in the house through the doggy door.  I learned so much about people and animals and their love for each other.  My business gave me the type of joy my corporate job never could.

Today I still petsit, though not as frequently.  I met the love of my life and moved twenty minutes up the road to live with him.  And my happy townhouse?  I kept it as a rental property which makes income every month.  A recently divorced Mom and her two kids are starting over there.  I hope my house brings them the same happiness it brought me.

No Place Like Home

Me with my brothers and sisters in 2014.

     My name is Karen Benecewicz and I was born in August of 1973, in New London, Connecticut, while my father was enlisted in the Navy.  A week after my mother got her driver's license.  Running joke is they gave her the license because they saw how pregnant she was. I am the oldest of six, I have 2 brothers and 3 sisters.  There is an 18-year age difference between me and the youngest. 

    

      My favorite childhood memory is traveling to Brooklyn in the summer and visiting my grandparents and cousins. It was like a second home, a familiar place to go to, in between all our moves.  As a military brat, we moved around a lot. While in the Navy, my father was also stationed in Norfolk, Virginia.  In 1979-80 my father was commissioned as an officer in the Army.  His first duty assignment was Edgewood, Maryland - just up the road in Harford County.  From there he was stationed in Landstuhl, Germany.   My trip to Germany was a very unforgettable event. 

     My father left a few months before to report and find us a house.   So, in the winter of 1982, my mother, traveling alone with 4 children ranging in age from 9 years to 3 months arranged our flight to Germany.   We left on a cold snowy November morning, out of JFK and flew to Philadelphia.  A snow storm delayed our plane and we missed our connecting flight.  After a few phone calls, we were loaded on to a bus and went to McGuire Air Force Base in New Jersey.   It felt as if we waited there a whole day. Actually it was late in the evening when we finally were told we had a flight. 

     

     We were loaded on to a C-141 cargo plane. It was dark, cold and barely any seats and NO windows.   My sisters and I found a spot along the wall in the drop down jump seats. We were buckled in, issued ear plugs and given a boxed dinner for the long plane ride.  Several hours past and when we landed. Do you know what I saw? (Remember there were no windows.)  Palm trees, sunshine and it was a balmy 70 something degrees.   At 9 years old, I knew this was NOT Germany!  Apparently we stopped in the Azores to refuel.  To say the least, after sitting on the jump seats and being up all night, I was NOT getting back on that plane.  I wanted to stay, it was paradise.  After some persuasion, I was finally coxed back on to the plane and apparently forced some high ranking official to give me his seat. Needless to say, we finally arrived in Germany where we were greeted by my father.  

     The flight to the United States three years later was more of what I had in mind.  Window seats, peanuts on the plane and a movie.   My experience in Europe as a young child inspired my passion for travel and history.  The year we returned was the summer of 1986, I had just finished 5th grade and we moved to San Antonio, Texas for 3 whole months.  In December of that year we moved to Indianapolis, Indiana.

     I considered Indiana my home for the longest time.  I was able to finish middle school and started high school.  It was in Indiana where I learned to drive and got my first job.  My first job was a record store, back when cds were a new thing. I was one of those cool kids with a great job.  I think it was during my time at the record store I acquired my taste for alternative music. I love concert, live bands and try to keep up with the new artist.   At the end of my junior year my father retired and was offered a job back at Edgewood, Maryland.   So, the summer of 1990 was a miserable one.  I left my best friend,  moved to a town where I knew no one and had to start my senior year at a brand new school.

      After high school, I attended Immaculata University and majored in History and International Relations. I spent the first 5 months after graduation traveling between Supreme Headquarter Allied Powers Europe (S.H.A.P.E.), in Belgium and Amsterdam /Hague area of Holland.  One of the greatest weeks of my life was spent in London exploring Westminster Abby, seeing Cats, Phantom of the Opera and Les Miserable.

My children - Josh, 13 Caroline, 19 and Geoff, 12

      Upon returning I settled in to working. I had a few random temp jobs.  In 1997 I meet the love of my life, we married in 2000.  It was also in 1997 when I took a job as a declassification analyst where I read some pretty interesting papers.  In 2001, I left the position, I was five months pregnant at the time and the commute between Baltimore, MD and Springfield, VA was becoming too much.  I took time off to raise my kids.  I have 3 beautiful children - Caroline, 19; Joshua, 13 and Geoffrey, 12.  In 2002 my husband and I bought our home in Parkville, Maryland.  All three of my children have gone to the same elementary and middle school. They have the life I have always considered to be normal.

     In 2007, I went back to work, picking up part-time jobs here and there.  In 2012, I was hired as a temp work at the Anne Arundel County (AA Co.) Board of Elections. They were ramping up for the Presidential Election.  I had always had a passion for politics, my maternal grandfather once ran for office in New York, so it was in the blood.   I felt I had finally found a home as far as my career was concerned. It was interesting to see the election from the side no one sees until election day.  Due to funding issues, I was released after the election.  

      In 2014 after being in between jobs again and out of school for 20 years, I decided it was a good time to start my Master’s program in Contemporary Communications.  The same week I was called back to work at the AA Co. Board of Elections.   So here I am today, daughter, sister, mother, wife, student with an anticipated graduation of May 2017 and employee in the Election Workers Department of the AA Co. Board of Elections.