Rebecca A. Foster

Hot baths are a favorite way to end my day, especially if I have sore workout muscles. No bubbles or smelly stuff, just super-hot water and a good book or magazine. (You can always tell my favorite books because the edges are steam-curled from bathtub readings.) And of course, the deeper the hot water, the better the bath. This handy little plastic deep-drain cover stops the water from draining and lets you fill your tub to the top. My sister bought me one for Christmas. Blissful. I wish I'd had it when I stayed with my cousin in his older Washington Heights, NY apartment, huge claw-footed bathtub included. I had to try it out. He'd never taken a bath in it and there was no stopper, so we had to jimmy-rig a drain cover for me. He thought it was weird, I'm sure, to go to all that trouble for a bath. I would have packed this drain cover in my luggage with no shame. Deep Drain Cover , amazon.com, $4.97

I'm going to switch the address of this blog to a new domain name, www.beccaplaying.com. Supposed to take a few days and happen automatically. We'll see if this works.

My mom is from Chile, so in addition to traditional "American" holiday foods we also have Chilean foods at holiday meals: raw veggies such as cucumbers and turnips sliced thin and combined with lemon juice, olive oil and salt; pasta combined with lemon juice, olive oil, cilantro and salt; three kinds of meat at dinner; plates of fresh avocados; empanadas. One of my favorites is Chilean style salsa, which can be eaten on chips but in Chile is eaten as a topping on meats, seafood and potatoes. Chilean salsa is not tomato based like the Mexican style salsas more familiar to Americans. It is made mainly of chopped onion, cilantro, olive oil, salt and very hot peppers (my mom uses serrano, not jalapeno) chopped fine, along with some chopped tomato and garlic. When we have visitors, we warn them not to choke on the salsa as it is very hot and strong. She makes different strengths, though, to accommodate the wussies. I ate a lot of this on Christmas Day.

You know when you eat too much and you just want to lie on the couch and not move until you feel normal again? Kitten tummy. Named after my kitten who would eat too much and lie flat on her back with her arms and legs extended, little swollen belly. I felt just like that yesterday after dinner. Mashed potatoes and pumpkin pie get me every time.

I got invited to a 'Cocktail Dress' Christmas party, my favorite kind.* But my cute cocktail dresses are all matched with cute strappy, non-snow-suitable sandals. I've broken down and purchased a coat, gloves, hats, and scarves for winter in the Rockies, but the majority of my shoe collection? Still chanclas and strappy sandals. And 3-inch heeled boots. Not exactly walker-y in snow and ice. So I went shopping for suitable "snow" shoes I could wear with a cocktail dress. Guess what? There are no cute shoes that are snow-suitable. This is why snow sucks. But I did purchase these shoes, close as I could get. If I must wear bulky winter shoes, I love peep-toes. Visible toes means winter hasn't broken me. Yet. Caparros 'Scottie' pumps, about $68 *I didn't go, this is how much my dentist hurt me . I kinda hate him after all.

Most days I eat alone, all three meals. I like simple foods just as much as the more exotic ones I eat when out with friends or on vacation. Crackers and cheese, broccoli and tomatoes, corn tortillas and black beans, sandwiches, mushroom soup, my little veggie thingies, as my mom calls them. This is what I eat when I eat alone. I get this from my father. He ate like he lived his life, very unpretentiously. The last meal we ate together was vegetable soup and sandwiches. I had gone over to eat dinner with him on a Tuesday night. I didn't know he was going to die on Sunday and I didn't know this was the last meal we would share together, or the last dinner he would actually eat. (I learned in the days following that when people are preparing to die, they stop eating because their metabolism shuts down in preparation for death.) Perhaps it's better we don't know these things. But if I had known, would we have chosen something different? Something grandiose and complica...

So I have a new dentist. I wasn't prepared for how good looking he is. I mean, I prepared by brushing my teeth and wearing clean clothes, but I was NOT prepared for a young, hot dentist who stroked his index finger back and forth over my lower lip to indicate where the numbing should take effect. Nor a young, hot dentist who accidentally dripped water down my neck , then gently wiped it up with a soft cloth while saying, "You didn't know I was going to give you a bath today, did you?" Or told me I have beautiful teeth. And a quick intellect and wit. AND gave me a blanket to keep warm when he saw me shiver slightly. So new young, hot dentist, I forgive you for putting me through two hours and fifteen minutes of dental torture, for using not only a regular drill but an air hammer drill on my back molars, for opening my mouth wide enough that I resembled a snake trying to eat a sheep and then sending me home without any prescription-grade pain killers. But just barely....

"If nothing on my body is uncomfortable, I'm not dressed in cute enough clothes." Word.

I love whimsical photography. I regret I didn't bookmark where I came across this. The photographer named it Lonely . I think that little look of "Ahhh...what now?" on the toy's face is how I feel in my head most of the time. I took this pic myself in NYC, on the LES. I just thought it was funny that A: someone set a rubber duck on a police/fire call box and B: everyone passing by let it be. I'd like to think it's because they found it as whimsically amusing as did and wanted others to see it too.

On my list of things to do before I die: 11. Learn and perform a sexy striptease to this song . 12. Get appreciated for it.

I love corsets. They just feel good to wear. I had a black satin one custom-made when I was in Thailand and I bought this blue one from seamstress extraordinaire angrylittledeadgirl on eBay (although she has a separate online store as well now). (A little story about this corset: W. took me to a concert at Emo's in Austin for my birthday and this little blonde girl walked by and said, "Wow, great corset!" then started running her hands over it. After she moved on I turned to W., laughing, and told him, "That girl just felt me up!" W.: "Um, yeah. It wasn't bad to see.") angrygirl has some new designs up and I covet this pirate-style one. How great would this be for a night out with some simple, well-cut jeans? And this zipper one. Very fun. And just a wee bit naughty. Which is kinda what a corset should be. But I do prefer them with jeans and boots. I like the casual/formal/wee naughty dichotomy. SugarKitty is another amazing seamstress and a great ...

Yeah, I'm a little late to this party, but that's when the party gets good, right? I felt a slight twinge of peevishness when 30 Rock beat The Office for the best comedy Emmy this past year. But then I watched 30 Rock . And guess what? It's better. It pains me to say that, John Krasinski, but it's true. And I don't have broadcast TV, which means I go out of my way to catch up on 30 Rock . Rent it, borrow it, buy it, watch it on YouTube, but just get it. I'd tell you why, but if you watch it, you'll know why. If you must only watch one episode, I recommend Black Tie . Or The Source Awards . LL Cool J and Alec Baldwin sparring, does it get better than that? It does. Which is why this show is amazing. Other fave moments: "Guns! What is it with men and guns?" "I think I speak for both of us when I say 'metal penises'" Will Arnett. And "You can settle it with a talking like this contest" Tracy's "Imagine...

I hate the cold, but snow can be very beautiful. Snow out west is very dry; I knelt in it, stood up, brushed it off, no wet mark at all. Much different than the gloopy stuff in the Northeast. If you want to see more winter pics, click on the 'My Photos' link on the right. Trees, view from my front door. My new wool mittens. The tops flip back to reveal fingertip-less gloves. Useful for texting and taking pictures in the cold. I also got a matching hat with ear flaps. I feel like a Swedish snow maiden in it. REI.com, gloves $25, hat $28

I am more prone to laugh at others quoting movie dialogue than quote it myself because A: most movies I can quote correctly no one else recognizes and B: the ones they do know I get the words wrong and then get corrected, which ruins the moment. I find that movie quoters are like mathematicians, you get one part wrong, the whole thing is null and void. Whatever, I'm an English major, as long as I got the general idea right, suck it up. But this movie dialogue is so simple, direct and accurate, it deserves to be quoted often: "I mean, there's been all these bloody hints and stuff, but has he ever actually stuck his tongue down your throat?" "No, not once." Exactly. (from Bridget Jones' Diary )

I won't lie to you: sometimes I dream I'm shoe shopping and find the perfect shoes and wake up disappointed it was only a dream. I don't know if the shoes are symbolic of my hopes and dreams, or symbolic of my inner shallow depths, meaning, not symbolic at all and I just really like shoes. When I saw this pair by Christian Louboutin, they brought to mind the cliche "You don't flirt when a guy looks good, you flirt when YOU look good. " I'm sure I'd allow all sorts of liberties while wearing these shoes because I'd feel like the most beautiful girl in the room. I'd be thinking, how could this guy NOT want to flirt with me? Look at my shoes! (Yeah, I know most guys aren't really into women's shoes. But it might get you someplace flirty so just play along.) Obviously, should be worn with a subtle dress. Just like cleavage or legs but not both, well made-up eyes or lips but not both, these shoes take center stage. Good thing, too, I'...

Find me a woman who doesn't care if anyone finds her pretty, and I would like to find out how she does that. Despite everything I tell myself about my other accomplishments, I do care. Not about everyone, because no one is attractive to everyone. But someone? It feels good to know someone thinks you're pretty. I admit it. But how good should it feel? This isn't going to be a treatise or examination of modern cultural mores regarding female beauty. Suffice it to say: there is pressure for women today to have a perfect body. I don't. I hate the slight jiggle of my upper arms. I hate the curve of my abdomen. But then I hate the way the bottom of my rib cage sticks out when I lose too much weight and looks like a second chest. My butt is bigger than the norm and it's discouraging to go shopping and the button won't close because the pants aren't cut to accommodate a Spanish booty. It's embarrassing to walk past a storefront window or freezer case at the ...

A couple of random things: 1. Online shopping. Because when you order something it's like giving yourself a gift twice: when you order it, and when the box arrives on your doorstep. Sometimes I order things and then forget about it, so it's really a surprise. Even when what you've ordered is for someone else, still fun to get a package. Two things I don't order online, though: shoes and jeans. You gotta know those puppies fit. 2. Canned cranberry sauce. I put away a whole can yesterday. So good layered atop mashed potatoes and stuffing. I like cutting it along the lines, too. Much more fun than fresh. 3. John Krasinski, cover boy. I don't usually find really tall guys attractive, because, duh you can't reach 'em, but loving those arms and hands. And how cute are those big eyes? Those eyes would actually want to hear how your day went. I'd just hope he were sitting down so I could react appropriately.

I don't wear a watch. I just figure out in my head what time it is. I can even take a nap and tell myself to wake up at a certain time, and I do. But knowing what day I'm on? Sometimes takes a few tries. Days seem to sneak up on me and then fly right by. So an easily accessible calendar, especially at work, is a must-have*. As always, I had several options for the new year: Girls In Bikinis Should I get a calendar that forces me to stare at well-lit, well-toned and well-enhanced women all year as a way to motivate myself to eat fewer nachos and make my work-outs at the gym last just a bit longer? Maybe it could work. But really, using a bikini calendar as a realistic indicator of progress only works if I also have an air-brushing and lighting guy following me around all day. So, maybe not. (Side note: you know how in movies when the hero is about to seduce the heroine, the lighting turns all soft and flattering? Yeah, that should happen in real life too.) Kitten s an d Puppies ...

As friends know, I hate having to wear a shirt in public. It just feels so much better when your skin is exposed to the warm sun and fresh air. (And you could in theory do this a lot in S. Texas, where winter lasts approximately 48 hours.) So I especially love Saturday and Sunday mornings when I can take a shower, slide back under the covers and doze again while drying off. And when I do get up, spend all morning in my skivvies. I don't answer the phone. I eat a leisurely breakfast. I read my new Entertainment Weekly or Voltaire or something. (Okay, Entertainment Weekly .) But the best part is definitely being able to lose the outer shell for a while (and be awake for it). The only time I get to experience this in public is wearing a bathing suit. It is acceptable to wear a bikini in public, but not bra and panties. Weird. Which is why my favorite relaxation-vacation is the Yucatan Peninsula, where the only thing I have to do when I wake up is put on a bikini and wear it all day l...

Do you like giving people gifts that make them say, "Oh wow, I totally used to love these!"? Or, "Oh wow, I had only heard about these, damn the FDA!"? Then you should buy assorted old-school candy from nostalgiccandy.com and use it to make fun gift boxes for your friends. They sell lots of cool stuff, including candy cigarettes! Sour Flying Saucers! And Zotz! You can purchase by the item, a veritable Choose Your Own Adventure in Diabetes. Fun! nostalgiccandy.com, $60 for approx. 7 lbs of candy (90 items), including shipping P.S. when I was writing this, I lost the word 'nostalgic' in my head. It kept coming out "nocturnal candy? navigational candy?" I'm tired.

Logically, star gazing shouldn't be something I really enjoy. Not terribly climate controlled. It happens at weird hours. And because the first stars I saw were in D.C., 'normal' stars are 'painted or lit up on the wall.' (Planetariums? Awesome. Still the best date idea ever. Much more likely to get some, just because you had the good sense to choose the planetarium.) But there is something about being outside in nature, not quite warm enough, the quiet and solitude, the beautiful night sky seemingly engulfing you, that creates quite an ideal environment for keeping close to the person next to you. Love it. Love it even though (because?) it makes me fall unwittingly, unquestionably, for some of the more BS pickup moves. And like them. Just ask Jeff, whom I met in college summer school. (I was an over-achiever and wanted to graduate early.) We met in English and pretty soon were hanging out, going out dancing, but just as friends. Our finals in August coincided with...

Who sends real mail anymore? Exactly. So double the shock factor to your postperson and recipient by making your own saucy envelopes. 11 x 17 magazine pages work well for this. Just pull apart a standard sized envelope and use it as a pattern for cutting the magazine page. Fold the cut magazine page along the pattern fold lines, tape everything but the top flap together, insert mail contents, tape the top flap down, and then I recommend covering the whole thing with packing tape so it doesn't rip in transit. Cut up an index card or business card for the To and From. Tape those down too. If you need Martha Stewart-like instructions, ask and I'll try my best. I made these two envelopes for male friends. The one on the left is an ad for something or other from 'W' magazine and the full text says, 'God Save Queens, NY'. The one on the right is from a photo spread of Eva Mendes and inside it included, among other things, a condom lolly. I know, I'm pretty much th...

I have a love/hate relationship with technology, because I vary between wanting to be connected to everyone all the time and becoming weary that I am connected to everyone all the time. Before I moved to be with my dad while he battled cancer, I had an old-school phone that didn't use electricity, just plugged into the wall socket. I loved it. When the power went out I could still use the phone. I didn't have caller ID either, instead I had a little silver answering machine to match that looked like the box Charlie used to talk to the Angels and people would call and I'd listen to see who it was before picking up. This wasn't because I wanted to live in 1978 but because I was a starving grad student and a landline in Texas costs $20 a month and I just got out of the habit of being reachable all the time and when I could afford a cell phone again, I didn't get one. But I wanted my dad to be able to get a hold of me at any time. This is a definite sell ing point of ce...

Things I sometimes say: "My bed is calling my name." "The magnets in my bed won't let me out." "No, sorry, I'm already in bed and quite frankly you're not enough right now to get me out of it." (Okay that last one I texted, not said, but it did make me realize: a man who can't get me OUT of bed will likely never get in me IN it.) Anyway, the bed: queen size pillow top, on which I've added two of those 2-inch Tempure-Pedic-like memory foam mattresses. I have to climb on since the top of the bed is a good 3 1/2 feet off the ground. 500 thread count sheets and a big goose down comforter. Four pillows of various size and firmness, two small throw blankets, brass head and foot board. See why it's tough to leave? This is also why I've often said if I ever decide to get married, if I can't have my own apartment, I'd still like my own bed. Although I'd probably be okay with shared naps, and sleepovers on special occasions.* ...

My friend Rebecca gave me these socks last week to keep my cute little feet from turning into toe popsicles this winter. I've worn them the past few nights and I have to recommend them to anyone who likes cloud-soft things and warm feet. Now, I don't wear smelly lotion, so I generally avoid Bath & Body Works the way I avoid any place perky blonde salesgirls congregate to try to get me to smell stuff. So I can't actually recommend going into the store to buy these socks. But, hello, online shopping! Especially for men reading this: buy these socks for your girlfriend/wife/sister/friend/mom etc. These can never be the wrong gift. No matter if she usually wears slinky things or says she doesn't like socks: these are awesome and only someone with a coal heart could resist them. Plus, if you share a bed, no more cold toes on your legs! Also a great stocking stuffer or cute addition to a larger gift i.e. a very soft lounge blanket. (The lounge socks look pretty comfy, ...

I walked across the Brooklyn Bridge in order to take pictures. You can get who-knows-how-many pics of the BB on the internet, but this was my eye, my camera, my attempt to get a shot. (My fave setup was putting the camera flat on it's back, and using my purse makeup mirror to watch the digital screen to make sure I was centering properly. It worked pretty well and I felt like I was being clever.) I walked across at night, the weather was just chilly enough to need a jacket, and it was an invigorating experience of noise, lights and that little shaking and residual vibration of the bridge when the bigger trucks would pass by. And while my eyes searched out the Manhattan skyline it struck me: this is a really beautiful view, a really beautiful walk, and I'd like to share it with someone who also appreciates this, and the fact they appreciate it makes me like them that much more. So, Universe, I'm just putting this out there: if at all possible, someday before I die, I'd l...

I tend to judge people based on: 1. Their ability to construct and/or understand double entendres 2. Spelling ability 3. Tolerance for spicy food I'm not saying it's right, I'm just saying I do. People who can stop me in my tracks with a good double entendre/word play and eat really spicy food go to the top of my list. I love spicy food, but sometimes Tabasco or other hot sauces add too much clashing flavor. So I keep red pepper flakes handy and add them to most things I eat. Soup, sandwiches, pizza, pasta, veggies, etc.: there really isn't anything that doesn't taste better hotter. I even add them to salsa, especially when I can't get to the Mexican market for really spicy salsa. These seem kinda of fancy, I just use the Schilling brand you get at the grocery store for $3.00 or so. I keep a bottle at home and a bottle at work. I think the flakes are better than the powder.

I subscr ibe to the sociocultural theory that on a subconcious level, straight men want to sleep with women who look like they have a high rate of fertility (large chest, curvy waist, youthful in appearance etc., and yes ewww calling it that, but what else do you call it?), while straight women want to sleep with men they think would make good genetic partners.* I also think this is why men sometimes get tagged as shallow creatures who'll "sleep with anything" whereas women are deemed less promiscuous. We're not, we're just using different criteria. If you met 100 men who fulfilled the genetic criteria, you'd be attracted enough to want to sleep with those 100 men. Men get some broader leeway, as she just has to look like someone who could get knocked up, if they so desired. (Whether the man or the woman actually wants to accomplish these tasks is beside the point. This is subconscious desire, not conscious logic.) Men want to perpetuate their genes, women wan...

I found these at the Museum of Sex gift shop. I thought they were funny and brought back a bunch for gifts. museumofsex.com, condompops, $2.99

Two items I collect while traveling: 1. Art prints depicting women reading. (This is by Fragonard, it hangs in the National Gallery of Art in D.C.) 2. Little meditating Buddhas. I started my collection when I was in Thailand. These remind me to take a step back, chill out, think things through, be more peaceful and enjoy the journey.

menshoes Originally uploaded by Beccaplay I snapped this in NYC last week. I took it for my friend Marc, who is a stylish guy and I think would look great in these shoes. He agrees! I heart Marc because he doesn't think it's weird I take pictures of shoes for him on my vacation. I like the kind of guy who would show up for a date wearing these* with simple jeans and a great casual jacket. I'd so notice and pretend I didn't, but touch his arm a lot. Tods.com, $450 *style, not price

So I just figured out last night: I can send photos from my flickr.com account to a local photo processing center with just a couple of clicks. Yay technology! It took me two + years to realize I can do this, but better late than never eh? Maybe two years from now I'll fully figure out my new cell phone, too. I can print photos at home, but it requires hooking up my printer, which is no big deal but also one of those things that I just get too lazy to do. Plus I think I deleted my photo printing software a few weeks ago trying to clear out space on my hard drive. (My dad had this handy little Canon photo printer with paper and ink he bought online. You just stuck in the photo card. He explained it all to me, but now I've forgotten the details. I feel now like I should have been following him around with a little notebook, writing down everything he said, but I didn't.) I sent four 4x6 photos to be printed, for a cost of $.80. You can pick them up an hour after sending....

I love my bro because he'll wake me up during movies when the hot guy is coming on screen. ( The Two Towers , it was 2:00 AM and sue me, I'm usually asleep at 2:00 AM. But Aragorn is hot and I woulda been pissed to sleep through the best part of that movie, i.e. the barging in through the doors.) Also, he'll take me to the airport on no notice when I forget I need a ride to the airport. Oops! (In San Antonio I always took a taxi because it was less than 5 miles away.) However, this time I actually made the plane. One time he took me when I was flying home to San Antonio and my flight had left an hour earlier. Oops! Sometimes I have trouble reading itineraries accurately. Don't you hate it when you read your connecting flight as your departing flight? Me too. Luckily I got on the next plane in the morning and just went back to my dad's house to sleep. This happened once in Arizona too when I was visiting Tom. In that case, I just thought I remembered when my pl...

Y'all know I love fashion as an artistic expression. Couture is dying, but there used to be some really fun stuff out there. Like the stuff on this video. But the best part? The women themselves. They look amazing in these clothes, and they're not 10lbs away from being walking skeletons like lots of the models we see today. (Such as the pic of the girl in my last post.) The girls in this video are also older than current models it seems, and they *are* thin, but most of them also have great curves. I know body type goes in and out of fashion, but I still think these girls look gorgeous. I'd much rather work toward having legs and a behind like these girls than the chickie below. And of course, LOVE the motorcycle outfit. Best. Halloween. Costume. Ever. You know if I could get my hands on that, I'd wear it in a second and shake that fringe like the little strumpet you know and love. (Haha FloJo, L. and L.) Runner up fave: the thigh-high leather boots.

How cute is this wool shift dress? So cute. I love the simple A-line cut, the cap sleeves, the just-low-enough scoop neckline and button sash that gives the dress figure-definition and visual contrast. If I wore this dress, I'd probably pair it with something like this coat and some chunky high-heeled Mary Janes. (And wow, her legs are thin. But I don't think I could run on those legs, so I'm okay with my chubbier ones.) dress: Juicy Couture at nordstrom.com, $298 coat: Juicy Couture at nordstrom.com, $398

I admire the Buddhist ethos that not being attached to things allows you to live free. I try to live by this ideal. I am definitely a minimalist. The bedroom and backyard in the picture to the left are pretty much my ideal living space. It drives me crazy to go into people's homes that are just crammed with furniture. But books? Books are where my good intentions fall apart. Walking into a library or an old-school bookstore (read: not Borders) is like walking into a church for me. One of my faves: Sam Weller's. The basement is aisles and aisles of niche, obscure and used books and I'd move in if they'd let me. I kept my books in boxes for several months when I first moved back to spend time with my dad. I felt like a huge part of my life was missing. It was a relief when I could finally unpack them all and have access to them again. I'd make a terrible Buddhist in this regard. (The bookcase on the far right doesn't match because my grandfather made it by hand an...

I'm pretty sure this is the only poem I can recite from memory. Or that I care I can recite from memory. The question Frost asks is intriguing: which is ultimately the more destructive force we inflict upon ourselves and others? The passionate fire, capable of purification but also the raging momentum of destruction, or the icy coldness of indifference that leaves only stultifying, silent inertia in its wake? Is consumption or decay ultimately our undoing? Fire and Ice Some say the world will end in fire, Some say in ice. From what I've tasted of desire I hold with those who favor fire. But if it had to perish twice, I think I know enough of hate To say that for destruction ice Is also great And would suffice.

I hate the cold. Perhaps it's the Spanish in me, but I just don't have much tolerance for it physically. I am often chilly when others are just fine. (My male acquaintances love this about me, I know.) So I stash sweaters, hoodies and little electric heaters everywhere I can, including under my desk at work. Illegal, but if you stick me under a vent, you get what you get. And on the plus side, it keeps people from asking me to do things for them because it's about 80 degrees at my desk. My third favorite heater is Dewey, the sole heat source in my apartment in San Antonio. Dewey was not only an old-school gas heater, it was a life affirming old-school gas heater because every time I turned the knob to start the gas flow and lit the flames with a match and didn't blow up, it was another good day. I didn't trust Dewey, but it was always a pleasure coming home from work in the winter at dusk, pulling over that little bear skin rug and curling up with a blanket for a qu...

The joke about this ring is not that I got it at Swatch (which I did), but that it's a cherry . I wear it on my ring finger. I have a silly sense of humor. Little jokes like this make me laugh. Swatch actually has some pretty cool rings. They are stainless steel, not sterling silver, but don't contain any nickel (which I am highly allergic to. A sign of my aristocratic genes, I'm sure.) They also had an apple ring, and some avant-garde designs. But the cherry was not to be passed up. swatch.com, about $50. P.S. I took this with my camera phone. How have I not had a camera phone before now? I wish I had a cell phone that only texts and and picture messages and browses the internet. I'm not a phone talker. Plus I like texting during church. Keeps me awake.

I went to Ellis Island on a whim. I was meeting up with my cousin in lower Manhattan that evening and I had the whole day alone to do whatever I'd like. I was staying on 181st street at the time, so it was a trek to Ellis, but I'd heard it was kinda cool so I hopped on the assorted trains and ferries I needed to get there, intending to spend just an hour or so before returning to Manhattan to shop before meeting my cousin. I ended up spending the entire day there. There are exhibits of immigrants belongings, stories of families separated and reunited, the tales of those who were quarantined on the island, not allowed in, not able to immediately make the return trip home. There are handwritten accounts from the immigrants themselves, pictures and photography of the medical examination and English tests, the changing of names, the leap of faith of those who arrived on the island. I was entranced by these stories: intriguing, sad, poignant, tragic, joyful and meaningful. I shed a ...

No, not real bellybuttons. I can go for...years without thinking about my bellybutton. Or anything else's. But food bellybuttons? YUM. Why is it the middle of something usually tastes the best? I remember standing in front of a watermelon on the kitchen counter, carving out the middle with a spoon, eating my way to the core and knowing I was going to get chewed out for ruining the watermelon, but I just couldn't stop myself. When I open my hummus, it is a little treat to scoop out the center swirl bellybutton. It doesn't taste any different, it just looks cute. I eat sandwiches and bagels in rounds so I can eat the middle last. My all time favorite food 'bellybutton' is the last piece of a cinnamon roll. Normally cinnamon rolls are not my thing because they are too sweet and gooey, but when I do eat one, I just about eat the whole thing only so I can get down to that last little button in the middle. Mmmm...so good. You know that Seinfeld episode about muffin tops?...

By heritage, I am half Spanish, half Southern. Good manners and social graces are a big deal to me. Which is why I laughed so hard when I got this email from a male friend: "Rebecca, Damn you, Rebecca!" Because when you curse someone out by email, even in jest, it's evidently still polite to address them first by their proper name. (The rest of the e-mail expressed his dismay that I am currently winning my fantasty football league. He doesn't think I deserve to win, as I don't even watch the games. He's probably right.) By the way, it's weird to be in a place where no one says "Miss Rebecca" as a friendly greeting.

My favorite candy is real maple sugar candy. My last trip to Canada, I bought a little piece of maple candy every night after dinner. And a small bottle of overpriced real maple syrup at the airport. (My Canadian friend Lindsey has a huge bottle of the same brand in her fridge. This is the difference between Americans and Canadians. I only need a small bottle.) I don't make pancakes or waffles, but I love adding a teaspoon or so to a cup of plain (not vanilla) yogurt, along with some wheat germ. (This is also good with honey instead of maple, but I think the maple is better.) I also brought home a small supply of maple sugar candy from Canada and I love sucking on it until it dissolves on my tongue. I only have two pieces left, and I'm rationing them. Who knows when I will get back to Canada? I love the sweet yet tangy aftertaste of maple. It's a complex flavor. I'd rather eat maple candy than chocolate, except for doughnuts. Maple doughnuts are nasty. And people talk a...

From one of my favorite books, Southern Ladies and Gentlemen: "For a woman who has spent years on college campuses and dated a string of tormented intellectuals...there are times in an woman's life when she does not give a hoot in hell whether a man has read War and Peace or not." Indeed.

This past weekend I met a guy in an elevator. He was coming home and let me into my friend's call-box building.  We stepped into the elevator together, he said something funny and self-deprecating to break the ice and it took about 45 seconds to get to my floor, but he was 45 seconds of charming and funny, with a kind demeanor. I'll never see him again. But I love these random interactions. They remind me how many cool people there are out there, how much chemistry is yet to be discovered, and how fun it is to meet a funny, charming and good guy. Even if it is only for one minute. (And of course, because this is me, I managed to make a fool of myself about it. The condos have an iron patio running the length of the floor and my friend was outside on the patio when I arrived. It was a party, so people were spilling in and out the front door. I start telling her, 'Did you know you have a really cute neighbor? He lives upstairs' etc. and then...we hear footsteps overhead. ...

I love studying the history and usage of words and currently own several different types of dictionaries, some specialized for the field of linguistics and lit criticism, some for general use. And one statistics dictionary I hope I never have to open again. But the end all, be all of dictionaries and the Golden Chalice of this book nerd is still the Oxford English Dictionary, or, in nerd parlance, 'The OED.' It's a 24 volume set (20 original, plus four supplemental volumes) and you can usually buy it for around $1,000. It takes up a lot of room. I almost bought it several years ago, but I knew I wasn't settled enough yet to buy a 24 volume dictionary. It's the kind of thing you don't want to haul around very far or often. But it's still a dream of mine to own the complete OED in print. In the Rebecca Scale of Consumerism, the OED ranks higher than diamonds. www.oed.com

Not only is Halloween my friend Candace's birthday (holla!), but I love to dress up in cute little costumes. Kitty Cats, Pocahontas, Angels, Devils, I love them all. Because these days, if you want to dress up, you have to be invited to a Masquerade or a Costume Ball. And really, who throws Masquerade or Costume Balls anymore? No one. So Halloween has become du jour for expressing that playful side we normally can't express outside of college and Halloween (and oh, I used to dress up in some fantastic outfits for going out with my roommates Jill and Brooke and Dana in college. I could almost be my college-self for Halloween). Unless, of course, you are a Playboy Bunny like Bridget on The Girls Next Door ( the guilty pleasure of almost every girl I know ) . Bridget is my favorite because she LOVES dressing up. Every time they go on an excursion or have a party, Bridget has a little costume she wears and because she is a bunny, she can get away with it, even on a random Tuesday. ...

When grad school finals were finished each semester, I would splurge and get a hot stone massage from my awesome massage girl, Katie. Love her. She is so nice and her hands use the perfect amount of pressure. She always knew to clear out some time for me in May and December. I would also go to her for regular massages at other times, but the hot stone version was a special treat for a starving student. A hot stone massage is like a regular massage². Various sized basalt rocks are heated in water (Katie mixes in some essential oils with the hot water, because she is awesome) and placed all over your body. For example, the rocks are placed down your spine and across your pelvis, like the picture at left. When they have had a chance to warm up the muscles sufficiently, that area is massaged and worked on, so you get a rotating experience of the hot rocks being placed on your skin with the actual massage. On larger muscle areas, she also uses the warm rocks in her hands to stimulate the sk...

1. True Religion 'Joey' stretch denim jeans. Because they have a 34" inseam (long enough to wear with high heeled boots) and 7" rise (low enough to sit on the hip bones, not so low you have to worry about flashing people when you drop your keys). And with just a wee bit of lycra, a great fit if you are a bit curvier and like pants that don't gap at the waist in order to fit around your bum (and who does??). I also have a pair of NYLaundry jeans I found at a thrift store for five bucks that I love for the same reasons. I don't know where to find another pair like this. But if you come across any, try them out. Nordstrom.com, $172 - $216. 2. The Other Rebecca is in town this week for work and staying with me rather than at a hotel. Because we are such wild and crazy gals, the other night we stayed up late in our jammies watching Season 2 of The Office , which FloJo has never seen (sacrilege, darling!). It was so fun watching it again for the first time through ...