Rebecca A. Foster

It was finally hot enough today in Salt Lake City: Living in the mountains in a desert makes for a very temperate climate, which I appreciate when I receive my electric bill each month; it's never been higher than $35. Compare that to the $180 it used to be in San Antonio in the summer (read: March through November). But I love any excuse to wear my summer hat; I learned in San Antonio for dark-hair, it really does make a difference in how hot you feel. But I do miss the heat and humidity; when I was in NYC on vacation, I slathered on face lotion and cream one morning and my make-up all started melting off my face, because I was so...dewey. Oops. I'm so used to greasing up like a piglet here, I forgot I didn't need to do it there. And my hair got that awesome humidity thickness to it. Speaking of a day almost two years in the making, I realized today the Peace Corps China volunteers I trained on my way out are coming home this summer. Crazy. Can't believe it...

If you have ever met someone for the first time and been asked, "What are you?", I think we could be friends. It's a perfectly logical question, really. What I hear: "You look different than what I expect and I need to have a category to place you in, so I want to know: what are you?" I usually explain that my father is (was) American, my mother is Chilean, and yes I look like my American father but with the coloring of my Chilean mother, no I don't speak Spanish as my first language, yes I can speak some Spanish but it is Chilean Spanish, yes I prefer wearing dresses not pants, no I don't go anywhere without lipstick on, yes I dress a little formally, no I'm not Catholic, yes I have been to Chile and can make manjar and pebre and empanadas, no I am not expected to date or marry a Chilean. These are some of the common questions I am asked and I'm not offended by them.(Okay, it is a little embarrassing when I meet someone and they begin spea...

I can only think of two times in my life when I was clearly a vixen, and I have to admit, both times were really fun! I should do it more often, I'm just lazy or something. In San Antonio, for a time I was casually seeing J., who played in a band and had the best house ever. After it was clear we had the chemistry of friendship, not romance, we still hung out and I would have totally moved into his house, because J. was so cool and had a house tricked out like a 60's Rat Pack bar. This is a picture of me on his bed: Yes, he had mirrors on the ceiling. But this story is before that time. I went to see J.'s band play and as sometimes happens when you see a band play, I wore slightly more vixen-ish clothing than I did in my everyday life, namely black leather pants and a sassy shirt. (Sassy = cleavage.) After he played and came down to me in the audience, he ran into a girl that turned out to be the sister of a girl he had recently been seriously involved with, and who...

When I have to sum up this past year? FUN! (This picture is from when I lived in San Antonio, before my dad got sick. I was really happy and carefree. I think it shows on my face. I'd take a new picture but I lost my camera in the move. So, this old one will have to do.) Probably some of the most fun times of my life. Okay, coming home from China and transitioning back to America was tough, but it was worth it for all the fun times that caused the big letdown. I mean, you can't go that low unless you've been that high, right? I was that high. (Not literally.) Probably the two biggest lessons I learned this year are: 1. Ain't nothing wrong with a good time. It's okay to just be happy. I'm a lucky, lucky girl. 2. Forgiveness is not about the other person at all, it's about you. I used to be reluctant to let go of those bad feelings that happen when someone hurts you a lot because it was like letting them win. Well, *I'm* the one carrying t...

Those of you who have been reading this blog a while know that in San Antonio I lived across the street from a firehouse. Most homes in my neighborhood were gated estates set back from the road, but I walked everywhere I could and ran in my neighborhood at night, so the firefighters would often see me outside and we'd say hello, and then chat a bit, and then we became friends. One year I couldn't go home for Thanksgiving and when they found out, invited me over to have Thanksgiving dinner with them. I brought pumpkin pound cake and we had a delicious dinner. (Firefighters are awesome cooks.) I was pretty honored they'd ask me to join them, and it remains a memorable Thanksgiving. I'm sure it's the only Thanksgiving I'll ever spend in a firehouse. I feel like firehouses are special places; they are setup up just to protect and help. Especially after living overseas, I appreciate that we have these places, and people willing to serve in them. I think nothing rea...

Doll Techno asked about pics of me in dresses. So, here are pictures of some of my favorites through the ages: Me in kindergarten. I remember loving this dress, I wore it all the time. My 1950's retro cocktail dress. My work dinner with Will, he snapped this on our way out. My Naughty Nurse Halloween dress. I can still fit in this dress, but it's a bit tight now. Must run everyday again! (And stop eating rice and oily Chinese food, of course.) Everyone needs the perfect LBD, right? In this case, B = blue satin. It's my Proenza Schouler for Target dress and I lurrvve it. So comfy. (Sorry for the bad shot, it's a camera phone picture.) This is my favorite everyday outfit. I brought this denim skirt to China and I wear it all the time. This was at the Austin City Limits Music Festival with Will and it was 108 that day, hence the look of pain on my face. Ah, Texas summers! (It was the last weekend of September, but that...

Maybe it is the Texan in me, but I love big trucks. My dad had a Ford F-150 V-8, not a huge truck, but the perfect size for me. The best part of visiting him (other than him, of course) was being able to use the truck while I was there. He just used it to tow stuff, so it was all mine when I was in town. I felt like the Queen of Sheba driving it, I wanted to drive all over the other cars.  I have a dorky sedan, but my dream is to own a truck. Too expensive for me right now, but someday... If I had to choose between a guy who drove a sportscar and one who owned a truck? Truckman, hands down. Sports cars are for weinies! 

This is one way cold drinks are stored in Texas gas stations. These troughs are usually full of beer, but also a few sodas for the kidlets/non-drinkers. I am always tempted to sneak a piece of ice to suck on; gross, I know, but when it's 100+ degrees for weeks on end, you don't pass up ice when you see it. This post should also explain why hockey is not popular in South Texas. Ice? Ice is what keeps the beer cold. End of story.

Last time I went home to Texas, I had the chance to see a friend I hadn't seen since moving away. I always had a little crush on him and was a bit more self-conscious than I wanted to be, but I sucked up my insecurities and we had a very sweet reunion. I was so glad I hadn't let my insecurities stop me from the chance to reconnect with an old friend. As I am currently transplanted, my best friends all live elsewhere. The ones who still know all my secrets, even from hundreds (and thousands) of miles away. (In addition to hating the same things, good friends can be judged by the dirt they have on you. These friends could bury me alive. And never would.) When we get together, it's as if we were never apart. It sucks to be separated from those you love, care about, and just plain enjoy spending time with. But it really makes you appreciate when you can be together again. And that's a great feeling.

San Antonio airport gates 10-14 concourse, where in 2006 I accidentally dropped a pair of black panties that had been laundry-basket-static-clinged inside the navy blue hoodie wrapped around my waist and a cute guy stopped to pick them up for me and it was kind of like a movie but not really because actually it's embarrassing to drop panties at the airport in front of a cute guy, you don't really want to chat when he stops to help you pick them up, but every time I walk down that concourse I smile.

Picture taken at the Walgreen's near my apartment in San Antonio: two full shelves of personal lubricants. At a corner Walgreen's. The bottom shelf was lined with them too. Forget Virginia, apparently Texas Is For Lovers (of a certain size). (Walgreen's at San Pedro and Hildebrand. Which kinda explains it, but still a funny sight.)

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...

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...

Lunch is my biggest and most important meal of the day, but breakfast runs a close second. Dinner? Eh, whatever. Overrated. I never, ever skip lunch or breakfast, but dinner is often just a pain in my heiny. "What, I have to choose what to eat again??" I sleep through dinner all the time. It's hard for me to keep my eyes open from around 5-7, my sleepiest time of the day. And if I have to choose between sleeping and eating, I'll choose sleeping every time. But I digress. One of my favorite breakfasts is two corn tortillas with melted cheese, onions, black beans and salsa. Delicious and healthy to boot, and it takes about five seconds, perfect for those bleary eyed mornings when I can't keep a thought in my head for more than five seconds. Just take a couple of corn tortillas (for an extra health kick, use the whole kernel ones you can get at Whole Foods or The Good Earth) and sprinkle about 1/4 to 1/2 an ounce of pre-shredded cheese down the center. Then...

This post is about something Hibidy loves but might not remember so I am posting it for her. Hibidy and I have few musical overlaps: country, Spanish pop music, and classical are about it. (Our first friend date was at the San Antonio symphony and then the Taco Cabana on Broadway afterward. But I think I went out to a club after that with Kim. I'm sort of a friend date player. Taco Cabana on Broadway is also where I went with J. after seeing his band play and I was wearing leather pants and the cute but lower-cut-than-I-realized white shirt and I wouldn't hug him because he was all sweaty from performing.) So one day Hibidy and I are driving someplace together and not talking, not because we were irritated with each other but because we spent a lot of time together relatively speaking so sometimes we don't talk in the car. And a country song comes on about a guy chewing out another guy for cheating but also hey, thanks for being a jerk because now I'm dating your girlfr...

Getting up early on a Saturday morning, before the sun rises. Running five miles through my neighborhood, watching my neighborhood slowly come awake. (Especially in Texas, when the early morning humidity clings to the trees and lightposts and everything glows in the rising sunlight.) Finishing just as the heat of the day starts building. Coming home, taking a shower, crawling back under the covers for a couple of hours of sleep. Ahhhh...