Rebecca A. Foster

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 ...