ice cream floats.

Eve & me, originally uploaded by Luna Soledad.

IBC Root Beer, in my humble opinion, is the best stuff. And makes the most awesome root beer float, even with the diet root beer. Not sure why we fool ourselves with the whole diet soda bit when coupled with something like ice cream or a Big Mac, but we do. It's as if by shaving off a few soda calories we're giving ourselves permission to indulge elsewhere, but whatever...

So last night, I made myself a (diet) IBC Root Beet float with Bryers chocolate, vanilla, and strawberry ice cream. Liam thought it was the strangest concoction he'd ever seen until he tasted it. --My mistake. That's like feeding a dog from the table - then you have to listen to it whine and beg throughout dinner.

My favorite part of an ice cream float is when the ice cream freezes from the cold soda and produces those delicious little ice cream flavored icebergs in the mug - a cold crunchy delight. =)

I remember once back in Germany, hanging out with my sister Evelyn... We hit the Baskin Robbins on post at Leighton Barracks for ice cream floats. Oh the days of simple joys... As we continued our stroll across base, me sipping my yummy float and hunting for icebergs, Eve suddenly makes a mad dash for the nearest trashcan as if she would vomit up bile and spat out a mouthful of her ice cream float.

"OMG, it's ROOT BEER!" she exclaimed in utter disgust.

"Uhm, yeah, that's generally how ice cream floats are made," I replied.

"That's disgusting. I hate root beer. It's supposed to be Coke!"

"Coke? THAT'S disgusting," I said looking at her as though that was the craziest thing I'd ever heard. "A Coke float? On what planet?"

"Puerto Rico!"

"Age does not diminish the extreme disappointment of having a scoop of ice cream fall from the cone."

...Jim Fiebig

surprises.

10:365 | Nikon.

Originally uploaded by Luna Soledad

So yesterday was a pretty rotten day, as indicated in my previous post. Not overwhelmingly bad rotten; oh I've certainly had worse bad days. But Thursday was well, indescribably busy, constant, stressful, and non-stop. Thursday was like a hellcat that bolted out of nowhere attacking without pause until 5:30.

I was mentally and physically exhausted and would have liked nothing more than to go home, strip, and crawl right into bed and die. Alas that is never an option so instead I went home and found upon my doorstep a most pleasant surprise...

A medium-sized package from my dear west-coast friend, Alvin, and a smaller-size package from Amazon (via Alvin). Well, like anyone else, I love getting mail that doesn't include a nasty statement telling me I owe money, be it a letter or package. --But a package, well, that's some real excitement, especially if the contents are unknown.

Years ago, when I lived in Germany, people used to send me stuff from time to time... my mother would frequently send me various knick-knacks and strangely, canned goods (which she got for free even though it cost my father 50 bucks to mail it for which I could have bought twice the amount at the commissary?) and occasionally there were packages at Christmas from friends and family, or presents for baby Isabel... and then there were the boxes from my way-back first kindergarten friend, Felicia, which I think meant the most of all. --Felicia sent me a box of her maternity clothes when I was pregnant; she sent me the latest Dorito flavors when they came out; she even had her mother drive her around the area where we grew up with a video camera so I could see all the changes that had happened since I left... it was these such little random surprises that made my soul smile. --Being stationed overseas, there was just nothing better than finding a notice in your mailbox to say you had a package waiting from "home."

Immediately my day got a little bit better as I grabbed the scissors and made for the boxes... The big one first of course, and what should I find inside but Alvin's previously-loved, black Domke camera bag! ...along with our traditional book and card. (The small box held a Domke shoulder pad for the strap.)

In retrospect, I know I should have been suspicious when he made that odd comment about eBay Domke knock-offs.

In his letter, he dares to say that he hopes I don't find it tacky that he sent a used bag... For real? Are you kidding me? That's the absolute best part! That my friend would care enough about me to send me something that he loved and had used in the art which he loves is what makes such a gift most special! Priceless.

Of course, I'm sentimental like that.

So thank you mucho Alvin. You're the bomb-diggety!
And I will continue the bag's great legacy, with love...

An old Cherokee is teaching his grandson about life:

"A fight is going on inside me," he said to the boy. "It is a terrible fight and it is between two wolves. One is evil - he is anger, envy, sorrow, regret, greed, arrogance, self-pity, guilt, resentment, inferiority, lies, false pride, superiority, and ego. The other is good - he is joy, peace, love, hope, serenity, humility, kindness, benevolence, empathy, generosity, truth, compassion, and faith. This same fight is going on inside you - and inside every other person, too."

The grandson thought about it for a minute and then asked his grandfather, "Which wolf will win?"

The old Cherokee simply replied, "The one you feed."

...Cherokee Indian Proverb

find your cool.

find your cool.

Originally uploaded by Luna Soledad

The older I get, the more I realize that life is a great big cycle of irony and mayhem and smaller cycles... and if we're lucky, we find our way through this insane labyrinth, often feeling our way in the dark, and love and are loved along the way.

For instance, one such cycle is knowing everything and knowing nothing... I can remember a time when I thought I had all the answers (just ask my parents) and then suddenly, I discovered that I knew nothing about anything. Then came wisdom. And doubt. Then confusion. --It's a vicious one, this cycle, and it will play on like a broken record in the background of our existence.

Thank goodness for good humor and friends.

For all the heartache and sorrow I have known in my thirty-something years of wandering around in the dark (and there's been a bunch), I must confess that I have been blessed with fortune in my friendships. Sometimes, that makes all the difference.

Recently I reconnected with an old friend from what seems like a lifetime ago... someone I knew from college, before my first marriage, before Germany, and children. Indeed, a lifetime ago.

Sometimes I don't even feel like the same person I once was, before - before everything... as if my life has been a succession of novels I've read in which I was the main character in some ridiculous drama or romantic tragedy. Volumes stored and recalled.

My friend Greg was from a time when my life wrote itself with ease and filled the pages with fun-filled laughter void of responsibility. I was a likable and charismatic character full of joyful energy...

That was over fifteen years ago.

We met for lunch and then set out about town talking and capturing images of whatever struck our fancies. We walked and talked and laughed and to my most pleasant surprise, I found that my dear old friend was one of those rare and wonderful people with whom time does not stand still... We just picked up right where we had left off.

Knowing, accepting, and being ourselves.
And that, is a gift indeed.

Very cool.

"I am already kindly disposed towards you. My friendship it is not in my power to give: this is a gift which no man can make, it is not in our own power: a sound and healthy friendship is the growth of time and circumstance, it will spring up and thrive like a wildflower when these favour, and when they do not, it is in vain to look for it."

...William Wordsworth