The Family That Sweats Together Stays Together

Post written by Bridget Strub.

photo courtesy of Yoppy

More than a few weeks ago I wrote an article about being stuck in bad eating habits. Since we’re all still a little hung over from our Thanksgiving indulgences I figured today would be as good as any to give an update on my self proclaimed “stuck-ness.” I should preface this article by saying that I just downed a 44-ounce cup of Mountain Dew and an entire theatre size box of Tropical Typhoon flavored Mike an Ikes. Surprisingly enough, though, this could shape up to be a pretty positive report.

You should know something about me. I have a hard time making commitments to things, luckily not my relationship with Pete, but in virtually every other area in my life. I once had seven jobs in one year. I was only fired from one of them thank you very much. I’ve written and rewritten a five-year plan over ten times in the last five years. And my latest achievement? I’ve had five different gym memberships in the last four years – three of them being in the last year.

At the end of last school year I joined the gym at my Alma Mater St. John Fisher College. It was the best deal in town, it was right on my way to and from work, and they had TVs in front of all the cardio machines. There is absolutely no reason why I shouldn’t still be going there. But, in August the Bills took over campus and I was scared I’d run in to T.O., no, not really, but it was such a hassle to get there so I stopped going. Even when fall hit and the Bills were well into their pathetic season (minus their game this past Sunday) I continued to stay away. My excuses were plentiful, and every time I drove past Fisher and saw it stare me down on 490 the guilt was as heavy as my newly accumulated pounds.

At that point I joined the Iron Butterfly in Victor because I figured I should try working out in the morning before school so I didn’t have any excuse in the afternoon. Turns out that 5:30 am has a whole new batch of excuses to offer someone whose husband is still snoring contentedly in the warm bed. Most recently, about three weeks ago, I joined the JCC in Brighton thinking if my gym was closer to me I wouldn’t have as hard of a time waking up to go in the morning. That was a stupid assumption. It’s not easy to get up in the morning. In fact, I still hate it. There have been a few mornings that I have consciously decided to sleep in. But rather than give up for the day, I’ve made sure to go to the gym after work on those days. I’ve even been there three consecutive Saturdays when their doors open so that I can put in an hour and half or more of workout time. I am proud to say that in the twenty-one days I’ve been a member there, I’ve worked out eleven times. That’s because they have one thing that none of my other gyms ever had.

The JCC has a huge room filled with a wide variety of cardio machines. They have three weight rooms and more fitness classes than I could attend if I were a contestant on the Biggest Loser. They have a pool, a nice, clean locker room, and a program that provides new members with three private sessions with a personal trainer to help orient you to the facilities and you to meet with a personal trainer a few times to get oriented to the weights and you set up a plan that allows you to achieve your goals. Amazingly enough, all of those things are not what keep me going back. The only reason I have stuck to my commitment to the JCC is the fact that Pete has joined with me. He has been committed to waking up with me each morning and sweating it out with me. While we’re there we rarely work out together, but it’s been so nice to have someone there encouraging me along the way. It’s made all the difference in fact. On the days I can’t wake up, I go to the gym after work, because I know Pete will be waiting for me at home wondering whether I followed through with my commitment or not.

Our commitment to self-improvement has even carried over, somewhat, to our diet as well. Pete and I both love our sweets. In fact, they are a “usual” on our weekly grocery list. But this weekend Pete stopped and questioned our choice as we grabbed two half-gallon containers of Turkey Hill Ice Cream from the freezer. That pause alone is a huge improvement in our eating habits, but the fact that we actually put them back is a true testament to the difference working out together has made. I’ve noticed that I push myself harder, stick to my goals more closely and feel more encouraged than ever all because I know Pete is there.

It’s so important to have accountability in an area that you’re trying to improve in. Even if that accountability still lets you down 44 ounces of Mountain Dew and a box of Mike and Ikes after dinner. Hey, I’m not saying I’ve got it completely down just yet, and I don’t know if I’ll ever be perfect, but I’ve felt the best I’ve felt in awhile in the last few weeks. The scale hasn’t gone down too drastically yet, but my mindset has shifted, my relationship with Pete has gotten stronger, and I’d say I’m well on my way past stuck and that is something I can stay committed to.

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From Ecstasy to Empty

Post written by Aaron Bouwens.

photo courtesy of *clairity*

I must confess once again I ate way too much over the past few days. The turkey, rolls, stuffing all the fixings. Over the few days I managed to provide tangible evidence of the abundance in which we live here in the Western world. In the midst of the indulgence I was inspired by watching people sit together at the table. The power of the steaming turkey with all the trimmings seemed to be mystical. At our church we had a Thanksgiving dinner free to the public and people came together from all walks and stations of life. Most of the time the only thing they had in common was the meal spread before them. All I could think was behold the power of turkey.

My experience is not unique. Other places had dinners, and in homes all across this nation the ecstasy was repeated. It is almost cliche to say it, but the true beauty of Thanksgiving is the coming together of people. In that moment the height of community can be found. Many a meal takes place amidst squabbling and bickering, but Thanksgiving seems to provide a reprieve. The sense of togetherness can be quite moving when we allow it to be. In many ways Thanksgiving day can be our American society at its best. People coming together at table fellowship. Not just those eating, I was humbled how many people from our community wanted to come and simply serve. We have service opportunities all the time, this was the first time we had people calling to volunteer a few hours around their family celebrations. What a great picture of humanity.

Then Friday morning comes. We go from the ecstasy of Thanksgiving day, to the empty consumerism of Black Friday. Oh, I know people would not see it as an empty day as they load in their new plasma TV bought at a steal of a deal. Christmas shopping lists are crossed off, and a few extra things just for “me” are purchased. There are few days in the calendar which are a greater ovation to consumerism than Black Friday. I am struck by how quickly we can go from humanity at its best, most generous, to humanity at its greediest and worst in the course of 12 hours. Sure many were buying gifts for other people, so how could that be greed? The level at which we in America consume, for others or ourselves is staggering. When looking around the average house in America, there is more stuff there than any one person or family really needs.

So am I saying we should feel guilty about shopping, or that we should not buy anything for anyone? Nope. What I am am saying is think about what you are doing. What would happen if instead of spending the average 700-800 dollars on Christmas presents, you spent 200-300, and gave the rest to charities helping to feed hungry people? What if that old TV that still worked was sufficient and the new one was left on the store shelf? Might we have a culture that did not move from ecstasy to empty so quickly? Is it possible for us to move from ecstasy to elation? There is no greater joy than sacrificing for the sake of giving someone life. Gandhi said it this way “live simply so others might simply live.”. I cannot help wonder if our lives would be forever transformed is we chose to sacrifice rather than consume. Could we possibly realize the greatest gift we have to offer is community? What if the everyday dinner was like the Thanksgiving dinner. Not the volume of food, but the volume of community and connection. We could serve bread and water as long as the fellowship was rich and authentic. Would we spend so much time empty?

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A Note From Thanksgiving

Post written by Pete Strub.

photo courtesy of carbonnyc

Hi, I’m Thanksgiving and today is my day. I don’t usually get a lot of publicity outside of today, and that’s usually the way I like it, but there are some things going on with the other holidays that I don’t really appreciate. It’s time for me to step up and be recognized for what I am: the best holiday on the calendar. It didn’t used to be this way; there was a time when I was clearly no better than 3rd or 4th on the list, but times have changed.

Normally, I wouldn’t talk badly about others, it’s not what I’m about – usually I’m the thankful sort. But some of the other holidays have lost their way and they need to be called out. Take Christmas for instance. When I was first born on that wonderful fall evening in 1621, I looked up to Christmas as a role model. He was a holiday with such strong values. He was all about Jesus, family, and giving, and everywhere he went, love went with him. Truly, he was an inspiration and I wish you could have known him back then. Today? Well, he seems to be caught up in the material possessions a little too much. He wears thousand dollar suits everywhere he goes; he drives a Bentley; he wears gold watches; and instead of spending time with the rest of us, he just sends us pricey gifts as if that makes up for love. Not only that, but he has also monopolized a good share of the calendar. It used to be that he only had control of December, but over the past few years, he has reached into November, past Thanksgiving, and this year he even reached past Halloween. He now controls all of November and December – that’s 17% of the year! I am not one to complain, so I didn’t say anything when he started taking over my territory, but I’m not sure if Halloween will take it so well – I wouldn’t be surprised to see Santa’s sleigh get TP’d this year. Personally, I’m kind of worried for Christmas. When I talk to him now, he seems distant and sad. He only cares about things and I have even seen him spiking his eggnog at gatherings.

Christmas isn’t the only one who has lost his way, though. After Christmas started getting territorial, some of the other Holidays followed suit. St. Valentine has claimed everything in January and February, and Easter has claimed most of March and April. Materialism is spreading far and wide, too. St. Valentine has replaced true romance with fancy dinners and expensive gifts. Even Easter is getting in on the materialism. Every spring, she worries about finding the perfect dress and insists on pushing her pastel candy on everyone. It makes me sad. She and Christmas used to be quite the pair celebrating the birth and resurrection of our savior, but they barely even speak to each other now. It’s kind of like a couple who used to be really young and in love but kind of forgot each other and married their careers instead. Every time I look at them I feel empty.

There is good news, though: I have stayed true to myself. You may not have noticed because I’m not as flashy as Christmas, as sexy as St. Valentine, not as pretty as Easter, or as mysterious as Halloween, but I am the best holiday you have left. My values are simple – family and thankfulness. I represent the thankfulness that the pilgrims had when God provided them with food and friendly neighbors to help grow the food. Today you are probably gathering with your family to celebrate each other and all of your blessings. You won’t be exchanging expensive gifts, just sharing good food, and you haven’t been stressing about me for the last two months, you’re just appreciating me today. And today, on my day, I’m asking you just one thing: Don’t change me! I like myself just the way I am. Please don’t ever start exchanging presents on my day. Don’t get caught up in shopping for the meal (the food is just a trick to get your families together). Don’t start decorating for me months in advance. And please, don’t lose sight of my values. God has blessed you. Be thankful. Celebrate with your family.

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Take Two of These

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Genie on My Dinner Plate

Post written by Bridget Strub.

photo courtesy of Jason Pearce

I love junk food. In fact, I eat junk food so much that it might as well be an added food group in my regular diet. I can’t seem to get enough of it. Inevitably I try to stop eating junk food on the very day that there are donuts left for us at the teacher’s lounge or Pete has a craving for ice cream. I can’t seem to get away from it, and I’m ok with that. I have a fall back plan on the nights when my hand has spent a little too much time in the cookie jar. That plan is Aladdin’s Natural Eatery.

Friday night I felt like a stuffed cannoli, so when Pete asked me where we should go for date night, I immediately thought of my feel healthy fall back. Aladdin’s is a “natural eatery” that serves a large variety of Mediterranean style foods. They offer a vast menu equipped with salads, pastas, pitas, and the many interesting to pronounce foods like spanakopita, souvlaki, and falafel. I developed a craving for Aladdin’s early on in my Rochester experience when my roommates and I stumbled upon it in the infamous Schoen Place along the canal in Pittsford. I’ve spent many memorable meals on warm summer evenings dining in their outdoor terrace, and always come away feeling refreshed by the experience. Pete feels like the inside is a little too crowded, and you often have to wait for awhile on busy nights, so we typically avoid that location. That’s right; there is more than one of these little gifts to the Rochester dining scene.

The second location, on Monroe Ave, is exactly .9 miles away from my house. It’s the best set up in the world. At first it took some time to get Pete to agree to go to Aladdin’s for our date nights. He thought the idea of eating naturally meant that he would leave our meal both hungry and broke. That’s where the magic of Aladdin’s comes in. I don’t know if they have a genie in a bottle or what, but for some reason their prices are ridiculously low, and their portions are impressively large. One of the most expensive items on the menu (A combo of chicken, beef and caramelized onions rolled into a pita) is eleven dollars. The rest of the items on the menu average in the five to six dollar range. With that, I was able to get Pete through the door, but I distinctly remember the vibe of skepticism that radiated from him the first time we ate together at Aladdin’s. I felt the same pressure for him to like the restaurant that most people feel when they introduce their significant other to their family to the first time. I desperately wanted him to like it. I wanted to fuse my Aladdin’s world and Pete world together in seamless bliss. The real test came when he ordered his meal. He ordered something with meat in it, surprise surprise; it was either moussaka (the Greek version of shepherd’s pie) or pastitsio (basically a steak salad). As he dug in I could tell not only were his taste buds happy, but so were his wallet and tummy. I had him hooked. Needless to say, Aladdin’s has been a part of our regular date night repertoire ever since, and that makes me a very happy girl.

So, when Pete agreed to go to Aladdin’s Friday night, I jumped at the chance. The last few times I’ve been there I’ve ordered the chicken salad pita. It’s a beautiful blend of chicken, apples, walnuts and mayonnaise atop a bed of mixed greens, cucumbers, and tomatoes stuffed inside pita pocket bread. The thing that pulls this whole dish together for me is the Greek dressing served on the side. I don’t know what they do to make that stuff, but it’s like heaven in my mouth. It may not sound like much, but I always leave feeling perfectly full. I’ve never left with the “I’m so overstuffed I’m sick” feeling, but at the same time I’ve never had the “I just paid money to eat one leaf of lettuce and a baby carrot” thought either.

If you’ve never been to Aladdin’s you need to try it. It’s one of the Rochester gems that I keep coming back to. Very few things on their menu will break your bank (Our bill with tax and tip came to just over $17) or your scale. I recommend it at any time of year, in whatever mood you’re in, no matter what you’ve eaten that day. Somehow it magically resets your body and sends you on the right path again.

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Adventures in Awful: CSI Miami

Post written by Pete Strub.

photo courtesy of mercuryrising9572000

I am so excited about this week’s Adventure in Awful. CSI Miami holds a special place in my heart. It is one of the most poorly written and acted shows on television, and I can’t get enough of it. It is half drama, half unintentional comedy. It’s kind of like eating Kraft Macaroni and Cheese: you know it’s not high quality, but man is it enjoyable. Most of the plots have more holes than the Bills’ defense (ah, making fun makes the losing hurt less). If the methods they use to catch killers were actually possible, there would be no crime in our world. On a weekly basis, they perform an impossible miracle of science.

Aside from the plots, there is also the wonderful portrayal of Miami. Before we even see a single actor or landscape shot, Bridget and I can recognize a CSI Miami clip by the unmistakable orange tint and the parade of over-made-up, botoxed rich women. Above all, however, the highlight of the show is watching the pure-cheese acting of David Caruso playing tough guy Horatio Caine. I love that he stands sideways in every single scene, never facing anybody. I love how he takes his sunglasses on or off to accentuate every dramatic moment. And I love his one-liners. Man do I love his one-liners. If the show didn’t bother Bridget so much, I would wander around our house standing sideways and throwing out one-liners like Horatio every night. It would never get old.

I honestly don’t even know if I have a point with this whole thing; I just knew I needed to tell you about CSI Miami. I guess the point would be that it’s good to have something cheesy in your life. It makes you smile; It reminds you that there is room in this world for laughter; it reminds you that there are people stupider than you out there. Before you leave this webpage, please watch this YouTube video. It is a wonderful montage of David Caruso one-liners. You will smile – guaranteed.

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How Many Fools Does It Take…

photo courtesy of ndot

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Get Outta Town!

Post written by Bridget Strub.

photo courtesy of Joiseyshowaa

For the four years Pete and I have been married, we’ve made it a habit to go away for a night every three months or so. You might be wondering how we can afford weekly date nights and nights away every three months. This type of behavior doesn’t fit in to our normal spending behaviors. For a couple who slept on a ten year old mattress for the first four years of marriage, counts every dollar each month in a strict budget, and lives in a $60,000 home, you wouldn’t think we’d live extravagantly enough to sleep in a hotel every three months. The truth of the matter is, though, we can’t afford not to do these things. Our weekly date nights help keep us connected with each other from crazy week to crazy week. But, some of the most pivotal moments of our marriage have occurred while we were away from our regular setting and able to relax in an out of routine sort of way.

When we get away, we’re able to step back from the inevitable funk that accumulates in our everyday life and reassess where we’re at as individuals and as a couple. We’ve stuck to this pattern pretty much since our first day of marriage. I attribute the fact that our love still feels new and exciting to this tradition. If we hadn’t taken the time to do these things, I’m convinced our relationship would be at a very different place than it is today. When we’re able to shut out the rest of the world and look at each other as the people we fell in love with five years ago, the world seems to set itself right. We’re able to work out the little things that creep in where they shouldn’t. We can dig up the underlying junk that’s been lying hidden for a while. After all that, we’re able to just breathe a little and dream about where we’re going in the future.

If you’re married and haven’t taken the time to get away on a semi-regular basis, my advice to you is as simple as the Nike motto. Just do it. There are plenty of hotels, bed and breakfasts, or inns that offer a one night’s stay with a hot breakfast for little over a hundred dollars. We’ve become pretty partial to hotels like Wingate by Wyndam and Homewood Suites. They have an indoor pool and hot tub that help speed up the relaxation process, and the guessing game with room quality and cleanliness is taken out of the equation.

The one variable that we encounter with each stay is where we’ll eat dinner. We’re typically at the mercy of the location of our hotel and what we can find near it. This week, our hotel was in the middle of a field, kind of creepy, and right next to a Quaker Steak & Lube. I have a fundamental problem with Quaker Steak & Lube simply based on the fact that its name and logo is so closely associated to a car oil company. The thought of eating food from there kind of creeps me out, even if they do have some of the best wings around, or so I’ve heard. I thought we’d be stuck there, but we were miraculously saved by an incredible suggestion to try Coppertop Tavern in North Syracuse, NY.

I didn’t let myself get my hopes up as we drove through Syracuse in pursuit of our dinner. I’d been burned before by the seemingly unique restaurants, and was a little nervous this would be another experience like that. This experience was immensely different though. I immediately fell in love with it as we sat in the corner booth of the old-fashioned tavern and read through the menu. There were plenty of mouth-watering options ranging from hefty burgers, crispy pizza baked in a stone hearth, creative salads, and other tavern favorites. Our expectations were high as we ordered. We thought that if they could pull through with good food we would have the perfect restaurant experience. We were not disappointed.

Pete chose Chicken DaVinci, a huge pasta dish with two full chicken breasts smothered in pesto and mozzarella and a side of three servings of pasta. I decided on the Italian Chopped Salad, a mound of lettuce with all of my favorite salad toppings; artichoke hearts, roasted red peppers, pepperoni kalamata olives, garbanzo beans, banana peppers, and tomato bruschetta that soaked everything with the perfect blend of seasoning and juice so that I didn’t even have to use the dressing that came on the side. In addition to all of that, we received a basket of warm garlic bread made in the stone hearth.

Our dinner was absolutely delicious. Flavors did the fox trot in my mouth as I crunched through my salad. We both had portions left over that we were able to eat for lunch the next day. That’s no surprise for me, but it says a lot that Pete couldn’t finish his meal. Our bill came to $30.45, tax and tip included. And that definitely set the tone for a great rest of our get away!

If you ever find yourself in North Syracuse, maybe on a getaway with your special someone, make sure you stop in to try the Coppertop Tavern, it’s well worth the drive!

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The Tyranny of Mediocrity

Post written by Aaron Bouwens.

photo courtesy of Sister72

One of my least favorite phases to hear come form another persons mouth, or even worse mine is, that is good enough. It seems there is a tendency by the people called the human race to settle for something which is good enough. We know there is better and best still out there. It is easy to see that something worse has already been surpassed. We simply settle into the place where things are not excellent but they are not bad. This place has a name, mediocrity.

In my dream world mediocrity would not exist. It would seem odd that someone would not strive for the absolute best they can. This is not the world we live in, as if I needed to tell you that. Mediocrity is well established in our ways of life in everything from mowing the lawn to our marriages, to our relationship with God. In fact mediocrity is so well established that when an attempt is made to rise above it, the majority try to pull things back. The mediocre majority cannot allow someone to break ranks and put excellence back on the map. When people decide they are just not going to get by any longer, but they are going to thrive, great concern is raised. There is something hauntingly comfortable about mediocrity which holds us hostage.

I wonder what happens if people break free? What happens if people decide to not allow the mediocre majority to exercise tyranny over them any longer? This is where greatness emerges. This is where great works of God are initiated. Have you ever noticed that we do not have a God of mediocrity? Our God puts forth excellence in everything that is done. We do not find stories of God going half way with something. Can you imagine is God would have decided Jesus’ death on the cross was good enough, and forgo the whole resurrection thing? We are to offer the best of who we are and the best of what God has made of us, at every moment. Good enough should not be a part of our lexicon.

So how do we change ourselves and the tyranny? First comes a choice to give more into life. Remove halfway from your line of thinking. In everything you do, pursue perfection. Are we going to be perfect every time, probably not. Our imperfection should not however, keep us from excellence and the best we have to give. In the movie The Last Samurai, Tom Cruise narrates a section saying, from the moment they wake, they commit themselves to perfection. That is it. If we are to overcome the tyranny of mediocrity, we must be on a pursuit of perfection.

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Adventures in Awful: Ditching People for Tools

Post written by Pete Strub.

photo courtesy of thisisbossi

I ditched you last Thursday. But you shouldn’t feel bad: you’re not alone. I ditched my friends on a cider-making date; I ditched friends on our football watching the following day; I ditched friends going to the movies. I ditched church; I ditched my diet (not that I normally eat well, but I survived the last 2 weeks on a straight Mountain Dew diet); I ditched things that I’d rather not report publicly; and I even ditched Bridget (but not in the “I’m leaving you” way, just in the “I’m not spending quality time with you” way). Clearly, you are in good company because God, Bridget, friends, and football are some of the most important things in my life. So do you feel better about being ditched yet? Probably not because being ditched stinks and I realize that, and it’s something I tend to do a little too frequently. Therefore, this week’s Adventure in Awful is my bad habit of ditching people.

Before we start, you need to know what causes these sprees of irresponsible and inconsiderate behavior. The first cause is that I tend to overestimate my ability to finish things quickly, especially house projects. The second cause is that once I start something, I have to finish it before I can move on with the rest of my life. Last February, for example, my wife and I decided we would remodel our bathroom. I estimated that we should be able to finish the project (which included a new tub with plumbing, a tile floor, removing wallpaper, painting, a new vanity, a new toilet, a new exhaust fan, new lighting, refinishing a door, new molding, and hanging new décor) over the course of February break – one week. Needless to say the project wasn’t finished until April and it hung over my head like a gray winter sky for the entire two months I was working on it. No matter what I was doing, all I could think about was finishing the bathroom project. As a result, I became quite irresponsible with relationships and responsibilities for those two months. You would think after this experience that I would have been better prepared to deal with this during my most recent remodeling project, our bedroom, but I must not have learned anything.

On October 24th, I decided that I was going to remodel our bedroom for Bridget’s birthday, which was November 3rd, a mere 10 days later. I figured that removing wallpaper, painting, new lighting, buying new bedding and curtains, and fixing the door would only take a couple of days, so I decided to make a bed while I was at it because how hard could that be? Let’s just say that if I was a contractor for a construction company who had to estimate times for project completion, I would drive the company into bankruptcy within a year, guaranteed. Anyway, that first day, October 24th should have been a clue that the project would not be so quick and easy because I spent the entire day shopping for the bedding, area rug, curtains, and paint. Who knew color coordination could be so hard?

Over the next week, I worked on removing wallpaper and cursing the idiot who invented that awful stuff. Before I knew it, I had already used seven of my ten days and had almost nothing accomplished. This is when my need to finish the project began to kick in. When I go into this mode, everything takes a back seat to whatever I am focusing on. I wrote ninety percent of my college essays in this mode, usually at three or four o’clock in the morning. That next weekend, Halloween weekend, I began ditching everything and everyone. I skipped church, skipped out on two different hang out times with friends that I had already agreed to, and said no to a chance to go to the movies on Monday. It was all downhill from there. At work I began operating at about fifty percent capacity. At home I ignored piles of laundry and dishes (normally things I wouldn’t let slide). I stopped praying and reading my Bible for a couple of days. I avoided my phone even more than I normally do, and when Wednesday night rolled around, I was polyurethaning the wood for the bed when I was supposed to be writing an article for you.

This past weekend, I pulled an all-nighter and finished up the project, even painting an extra room (ah, ambition) while I was at it. In the end, I was pretty happy with the results, but I also knew that I had a lot of fixing to do at work, with God, with friends, and with Bridget because of my complete focus on the project. I really wasn’t quite sure what to make of the whole thing. Is it good that I have the ability to focus and work hard at something for that long, or is it bad because I put the project before people and things in my life that are more important? Predictably, the answer is probably a little bit of both. Being able to focus and work hard on something is probably a good quality, but I realized that the way I ditch everything else in my life is probably a result of pride or self-reliance – my desire to accomplish things on my own apart from God or anyone else. Self-reliance and pride are dangerous and sneaky. They are destructive things that pretend to be good. They can help people accomplish great and remarkable things, but they have a high cost. For my part, I know I need to trust that, even when I’m working on a project, I need to keep doing the important things in my life, like building relationships, praying, and eating something other than Reeses and soda.

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Get Out There and Learn Something

photo courtesy ofmarghe00

I love good science fiction.  Not just science fiction.  You can’t put a ray gun in someone’s hand and impress me, or blow up city with a hovering spacecraft and say this is science fiction.  Science fiction should make you think.  If done well the characters, storyline and themes should intertwine with our own reality and allow us to step aside and ask… could that really happen?

Last week I saw a movie that came out this year.  District 9.  It was a sleeper hit of the summer.  By the way, a sleeper hit refers to a movie that doesn’t have a lot of mainstream hype behind it, it doesn’t have a blockbuster lead actor, a conventional storyline or a major studio backing it up.

The plot follows a civil servant who is leading up a relocation of a site of aliens who’ve  for 20 years have set up a shabby neighborhood outside of Johannesburg, South Africa.  A lot of things happen in this movie, some things unexpected and I won’t doll out spoilers, but this movie made me think.  I can’t remember the last movie that stretched my mind like this one.  The reason behind this was that this story and the short film that started it all “Alive From Joburg” was inspired by  what the writer/director observed in South Africa during the 80’s and 90’s, particularly regarding the problem of apartheid.

Quick tutorial for those who don’t remember their global studies exam.

Wikipedia simply describes Apartheid—meaning separateness in Afrikaans (which is cognate to the English apart and -hood)—was a system of legal racial segregation enforced by the National Party government in South Africa between 1948 and early 1994.

I’m not going into the actual events during this time, things happened here that created an incredible ramification for history and our present.  Things are happening all over the world that we have little knowledge of.  At this moment as you read this there is a at least an 8 hour difference between you an people who do not speak the same language as you, do not have the same customs as you, and do not have the same economic situation as you.

And that is the point of today’s challenge.  I challenge you to look up something of value that is going on in the world today.   If you have no idea where to start click on the “world” section of Google News, or check out a specific country of your family origin.  Do it for a week, there has gotta be more important things going on in world than John & Kate Plus 8.  Also you may want to check out the BBC News.  There is something refreshing about looking at news stories about America that is broadcast by non Americans.

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Tomato, Tomotto

Post written by Bridget Strub.

photo courtesy of quinn.anya

Besides traditional holiday meals, the birthday dinner is by far one of the most important meals shared during the year. It determines the mood of the day, and more importantly sets the tone for the upcoming year. Needless to say, I felt a lot of pressure last Tuesday when my mom offered to treat me to dinner on my birthday; I just had to pick the place. Not only was she going to pay for my meal, she was going to drive an hour on a weeknight just to do it. Like I said last week, my parents have a really incredible way of making me feel special on my birthday.

I decided it would be best if we ate in Victor, because I work there and it’s closer for my mom than Rochester. I tentatively thought I’d choose a restaurant that I had received a birthday coupon to, thinking it made the most sense. But, as I thought of the many chain restaurants I could visit, I was left with that, “eh” feeling. They felt too familiar, not special enough for the birthday meal.

It wasn’t until I brought my dilemma to some of my colleagues that I received the advice that I needed. Most of them are Victor residents, so they spoke candidly about area restaurants. I mentioned that I was kind of in the mood for Italian (I thought I should honor that 25% of my heritage this year), and I was met with a unanimous “Go to Otto Tomottos!” (No, I didn’t just misspell tomatoes).

I had seen Otto Tomotto’s Good Italian Restaurant before and some friends recommended it to me last year. Pete and I had been thinking about trying it for a few months now, so the decision seemed obvious. We had heard nothing but great things about the restaurant, so my inhibitions were very low. As my mom, Pete and I met up to head to our dinner festivities, the sky opened up and hail pelted us from every possibly direction. I got a little nervous, thinking it was a sign from the heavens to turn back, but we pressed on anyway. We walked into the restaurant right behind a family of four. The décor was cheery with yellow walls and bright pictures. The dining room was petite with only ten or so tables that sat four people each. Only one of the tables was occupied, so I knew we wouldn’t have trouble finding a seat. Awkwardly enough, though, the hostess didn’t appear until we had been standing there for at least five minutes. She was an extremely energetic woman who seemed a bit overly excited to serve us.

The menu had plenty of tantalizing options. They had a lot of seafood dishes that captured my mom’s attention right away; she chose Oregano Baked Tilapia. Neither Pete nor I are huge seafood fans, so we kept looking. I was excited to see stuffed shells and tortellini (two of my most favorite Italian dishes) along with plenty of other pasta dishes. Pete was satisfied once he found their Lasagna. Without fail, that’s his dish of choice at Italian restaurants, and Tuesday was no exception. My mind was made up immediately, though, when I read that they offered Gnocchi with my choice of sauce. There are very few restaurants that have gnocchi on their menus, so I’m always super excited to find it especially if it’s homemade. Otto tomotto’s motto (haha, triple rhyme!) boasts, “Any closer to Italy, you’d need a passport” so I couldn’t pass up the chance to indulge in real Italian gnocchi. I was not let down either. They delivered to our table a steaming plate of incredibleness. I ordered blush sauce atop my gnocchi and MAN was it yummy! I wanted to eat the whole bowl, but there were portions enough for two meals.

As I’m writing this, my mouth is watering. I’d go back to Otto Tomotto’s in a heartbeat. Pete, as always, ate his dinner in enough time to have downed three more pieces of lasagna in the time it took my mom and I just to get the rest of our meals put in to-go containers. My mom, the expert in homemade Italian food vouched for their authenticity as well. We were all thoroughly impressed with the food, and so absorbed in it that we barely noticed we were the only ones left in the restaurant by the end of our meal.

Once I did recognize that fact, though, it felt a little too quiet in there for our boisterous conversation. I should state for the record that my mom and I caused the boisterousness of the conversation. It seems that when we’re together, the Italian blood takes over our bodies, but especially our mouths, and we spew words at each other faster than we can think them. (I’ve always loved this about my mom and me). When we’re together, though, Pete rarely gets a word in edgewise. Between you and me I think he likes it that way. I don’t know where he goes when my mom and I are verbally racing each other, but he had his lasagna to keep him company for at least two minutes of that dinner conversation. The rest of the time I think he was just thinking about how good it was.

We will most definitely be back to Otto Tomotto’s, but next time we’ll probably order take out. I think we’d get just as tasty of an experience, with a little less of the awkwardness. Before we exited the restaurant, Pete spontaneously twirled me around in the middle of the empty dining room, and I realized there’s nothing like the charm of a little Italian restaurant to inspire swaying (we don’t really know how to dance) to the cadences of the Italian greats my grandma used to listen to.

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