Pickle Talk My pickle habit started in third grade, I can't remember why, but I started having them as an after dinner snack. My mom bought me the Pathmark brand dill spears. I would prepare them the same way; on a paper towel (to soak up the brine). In fourth grade we had a class assignment to write to a company that we liked. I, of course, wrote to Vlasic. They sent me coupons, a nice letter thanking me for being a fan, and a book--101 Pickle Jokes! Pretty awesome, eh? I've been eating pickles every day for roughly 25 years now, and I have never gotten sick of them. I like 'em dill, I like 'em garlic, spicy, half soured, gherkined, just about any way. In restaurants I often ask for a plate of pickles after the meal is over (and yes I get strange looks from the waiters, but so what?). My latest faces are Target brand baby dills and their gherkins. I also like Trader Joes, Claussins, and those yummy little sliced dills you can find on your burgers at various eateries (Roy Rogers used to have really good ones). In Michigan my boyfriend and I bought some large barrel pickles, made with elephant garlic. My boyfriend bit into it and his eyes watered, and he looked in pain. He couldn't even finish his, but I thought they were great! I don't se myself ever getting sick of them, I always pace myself (I will NOT eat an entire jar for fear of getting sick), and anyone who knows me know I am the one and only "Pickle Girl." P.S.--What's the phrase heard most often at pickle card games? DILL ME IN. What's green and white, green and white, green and white, etc? A PICKLE ROLLING DOWN A SNOWBANK. Why doesn't a pickle like to travel? BECAUSE IT'S A JARRING EXPERIENCE.

Introvert's Lament Hi, my name is Lina, and I'm an introvert. (Hi, Lina...) I guess it started in utero, when I was so comfortable in my mother's womb that I was two weeks late leaving it. One of my earliest memories, is being four years old and, upon moving into a new neightborhood, my mother thought I should make some friends. She knew the house at the end of the street had kids (six!) and I remember her pulling me toward the house, and feeling terrified. I certainly don't blame Mom, and it turns out I did make friends with the family. But I still feel there are some misconceptions out there about what it is to be introverted. One is we are shy. But it's not the same thing. I've never been shy. I am very direct and have never been afraid of public speaking, or meeting new people. But I do tend to get overwhelmed in social situations, and large, noisy crowds of people make me nervous. Even after spending the day with loved ones, I need to steal away and be alone. It doesn't mean I am some friendless loser or socially inept freak. But if you are quiet, and in your own head, I truly feel you are treated like a second class citizen or deeply flawed individual by some people. And as I grow older, these judgements become less and less acceptable. The little digs about "being so quiet!" or an instruction to "smile!" become less and less endearing. This is who I am, and I'm never going to be an exhibitionistic, loud, lampshade-on-the-head people pleaser. There is nothing wrong with those kinds of folks, but isn't there room for both of us? Ciao for now!

Top 5: My top 5 albums at the moment: Nightwish, Imaginaerum Anthrax, Worship Music Within Temptation, The Unforgiving Pain, You Only Live Twice PJ Harvey, To Bring You My Love

Poems! the safety that rain brings squid in my ear tentacles wrapped round my brain beak feeding on the wax lush but not lusted after the wrong people have paid the right ones off sitting on a park bench reveling in the safety that the rain brings when my heart starts up again you'll be the first to know when i throw myself into the fire i'll pull you in with me --------------------------------------- moon is full moon is full violins explode day slips through my fingers let's not waste the night mouth is open breathe slivers of lust into me arms wrapped round your slippery tomb ------------------------------------ Habitat I want to live inside his head Set up a recliner and a TV And wait Until he says something 'Cause when he looks at me Or when I look at him I melt into a puddle Right before his feet Uh-oh Here comes a man With a mop

Standing Up To the Crazies

So I'm starting this blog in an effort to purge some of my opinions and experiences as my so-called-life in New York hobbles on. When I moved here, I was not prepared for the level of aggression that some people exhibit. I didn't anticipate the homeless/jobless/bored/mentally ill men who stand on the sidewalks and mutter expletives and yell at you as you walk by. Most of the time, they are fairly easy to ignore, but the temptation to respond remains extremely strong for this Jersey girl. So the other day, I was on the subway, zoned out, when a man sat across from me. I wasn't looking at him, but could see him in the window reflection. He started talking to himself (a common phenomenon on the subway), then appeared to give me the finger. Then, he spat at me. No phlegm, and it didn't hit me, but still--THAT got my attention. I stood up and yelled at him and then realized he was a textbook NY nut job, going on about how I was trying to "execute his family" or some nonsense. We both got off the train and went upstairs where I called the police. He saw me on my phone, ran over to me and tried to grab it out of my hand. I yanked it back and . . . He hit me. Wow. Not hard, but enough. I pulled out my pepper spray and got him on the side of the face and coat. Then he took off. Police came, report filed, tears shed . . . I tell this story not because I want any pity, but because I realize that none of this would have happened had I just changed my seat and avoided the Subway Spitter. But I'm from Jersey, and it's not my nature to take shit from anybody. My friend advised me to "walk away from crazy." Good advice. But living here, with so many crazy people who just make people miserable because they have nothing better to do, walking away is sometimes easier said than done.
That's all for tonight . . . Thanks for reading! I'll be back soon!

Ciao for now!