As a recent Food Network aficionado, I felt shamefully guilty upon reading MSN.com article about blog-trashing Rachel Ray. What was my own reason for disliking her in the first place? She is young, successful, cute, and perky. Sometimes her youth undermines experience, success implies snootiness, and that trademark perkiness seems all too fake. But who gave me the right to judge who is genuine anyways? How could I, who worries constantly that bubbliness may be mistaken for insincerity, so heartlessly accuse a fellow "bubbler" of being fake. Maybe it's just jealousy over her too-good-to-be-true "$40 A Day" gig that makes me think: I can do it too! I can't -- I get nervous making rice.

I have nailed down the date to arrive at New Orleans -- Aug. 1st, and called ahead to confirm. Only two weeks left in this new city that feels more like a vacation home than a permanent residence. I think the next time I come back will be Christmas. By then, my house will be done and bye-bye to this cozy little apt. I will miss it. Too many transition abodes in my life. Yet, it's still too soon in my life to settle down.

It's good to be young... or is it?

I have been trying to gather my friends like a fistful of yarn, loose ends everywhere. I read their blogs and swallow the selfish fear that their new presents leave no room for remembrances. I suppose, as Julia Roberts said in My Bestfriend's Wedding... with all the partings and gatherings, gatherings and more partings, "the world is just as it should be ".

Moving, leaving people behind, staring at the telephone, rethinking... Finally deciding on the most ineffective form of communication -- a monologue.

Save the apology
There is nowhere to go from there.
Take my abruptness instead
And hold no grudge.
I have fingered this hesitation
Everyday
Every other day.
I bought stationary with golden lining
For the unwritten letters
Spontaneous outbursts
All with your name in the front
On the top
My own overflowing.
What was it about me?
The trickery of my words
Deflecting truths.