pumpkin ravioli

1. Boil ravioli and drain
2. In a pan, on medium-low heat, melt butter
3. Add brown sugar and a pinch of salt
4. When the sugar is completely dissolved in the butter, add fresh sage
5. When the sage turns dark green, add ravioli
6. Brown on both sides
7. Serve with cheese shavings

division of labor

Did I tell you that I moved in with Carlos? Since September I've been living in southern Manhattan, in a sunny studio with partial views of the Brooklyn Bridge and surrounded by architecturally unremarkable skyscrapers.

I like not having to wonder if we'll see each other on a particular day because now, as busy as we are, we can see each other every day.

Another way our living arrangement is working is the division of labor. Carlos, though a true artist at heart, is shy in the kitchen. But, I like to cook and Carlos makes an attentive and eager sous chef. I also like to wash dishes. Carlos hates washing dishes. I hate mopping, vacuuming and scrubbing the floor. He loves it. I also hate to do laundry, but I love to fold. Carlos loves to do laundry, but hates to fold.

If only he wasn't allergic to cats, I would rate him a 10.

three months and one day

Today is the three-months-and-one-day-versary of the start of journalism school for me. I think of you, my dear, loyal readers, often, and how I have shared nil of my experiences with you.

I'm sorry. Truly.

In a nutshell, I have good days and I have bad days.

On bad days, I think, this is silly. I can't be a journalist: It's scary to talk to people, and writing is a bitch. I don't want to be a journalist: I don't care about "trends" and won't presume to decide what is "newsworthy."

On good days, I think, this is cool. I get to walk around on beautiful autumn days and talk to interesting people I would never have talked to otherwise.

Writing stories has been the most difficult for me. I don't like it. And I am never satisfied even when I am finished. This is not me being a perfectionist. This is me resisting the part of journalism that requires me to be a pseudo social scientist.

I've discovered that I like reporting and producing sound pieces, like for radio or audio slideshows, best. That's when people can tell their own stories. Don't mistake me. I am still author and editor. But, it's their voices, not mine. And that's what journalism is about I think.

bix & ferdie

Meet Bix Beiderbecke the Amazing, Fantastic Trumpet Player and Ferdinand the Bull, Ferdinand for Short. Bix is the big one and Ferdinand is the little one. They're Bengal mixes.

Bengal cats are bred from the wild Asian leopard cat and domestic cats. I wanted spotted kittens, but ended up with a marbled teen and a tween.

I picked them up from a woman in Baltimore, MD, who rescued them.

We're still getting to know each other. I have my doubts. But then, I didn't bond with Lucy, my first cat, for months, not until she ran away and I knew I wanted her back.