Singing with Dario

When I was 22, I signed up for a 6-week singing class. Unfortunately, the only thing I learned over the six weeks was that none of us could sing; not even the instructor.

At our first session, we learned that the instructor’s name was Dario Vanni. Of course it was. When he introduced himself, we nodded knowingly as though we had guessed as much.

Four Trains to Windsor

At the Earl’s Court tube station in Central London, my new best friend, the underground worker, explained (speaking with that adorable British accent) how we would reach Windsor Castle. We would travel on four trains! It would take 90 minutes (one way) but it would be worth it.

Countdown to Midnight: New Year’s Eve on the Thames

After days of sightseeing from morning until night, I felt a little wobbly but didn’t have the heart to squelch the excitement felt by the rest of my family. They wanted to see the fireworks show over Big Ben.

The Beach

In 2008, my mother and I traveled to Puerto Plata in the Dominican Republic. One of my Spanish cousins was getting married on the island and as an added bonus, we would see many of my relatives who were flying in from Spain.

Sewing for Beginners

I actually wanted to learn how to sew by hand, but I guess that particular skill is no longer taught. As I entered the classroom, I eyed the rows of tables laden with fancy, computerized, expensive white sewing machines.

The other ladies in the class exchanged tips about exotic mechanisms called "bobbins," and referred to ironing as “pressing.” I grimaced and wondered about the distinction. Did I know how to “press?” I thought I could iron, but could I press?

Well, resolute, I decided (as I took my seat in front of one of the gleaming blockish machines) that if they could out wrangle the contraption, so could I.

On Losing a Son in the Foggy Pocket

By the time we had visited San Francisco State University a couple of times, we were forced to come to terms with a perplexing reality: the campus was perpetually shrouded in mist and topped with heavy gray skies. The very air was, frankly, damp.

The Aisle of Death

The first months I spent with my baby daughter were the happiest of my life, even living in the Great White North.

Even as a newborn, even slouched unbecomingly in her bouncy chair, she was always serene, composed, and busy taking in this big new world. I talked to her incessantly, from morning until night, and she gummed her enormous brown rubber pacifier and weighed the merit of my ramblings.