Happy New Year!
As I wrote the last post, I began thinking of that ill-fated bus trip from Athens to London during the summer of '85. It was on a coach line really called the Magic Bus and it amounted to roughly three days riding in a rotten, stinking bus mainly with junkies who were shooting up in their seats and, without a bathroom on board, peeing in old Coke bottles. We, of course, spent hours in pain dying to go to the bathroom -- especially since we shared a bottle of wine each night in an attempt to catch some shut eye.
Given that we had no running water for a shower for days prior to departure, we weren't exactly the cream of the crop during that adventure either.
We encountered our first real potential problem as we entered what was then Yugoslavia and Oliver and I were Americans without visas. The bus driver was ready and more-than-willing to leave us at the border. I'm still not exactly sure what ensued as we couldn't understand a word they were saying; however, at the last moment possible, we were allowed back on the bus and the driver was angry at us for the delay.
The next day we stopped at a gigantic, clean rest stop where we bought apples, cheese and more wine. I entered the ladies room to find Gail with her head in the sink attempting to wash her hair. The dirt was coming out in thick, dark, tar-like rivulets. I helped her get the tar out; she did the same for me and Oliver.
Minutes later, the driver wouldn't let us on the bus again. At first we couldn't comprehend why then we realized what was wrong: he didn't recognize us. Fresh faced girls sans grime. I think it was our accents that saved us.
Somehow we made it back safe and sound and headed off to Jersey, Channel Islands upon our return for a warm bed and some pampering from Gail's parents. Two weeks later, I was back in Rochester, wearing professional attire as I sat behind a desk at my internship at Eastman Kodak Company. I think, at that point, I missed the stink . . .
Wednesday, December 31, 2008
Like a Rolling Stone
Hunkering down inside today given that we're having another 12-17" of snow. It's beautiful.
The other night, when the hubby's family came for Christmas, we began talking about Crete because my sister-in-law's best friend married a Greek man who now lives barefoot and begrudgingly on Long Island.
My girlfriends, sister and I were barefoot and begrudgingly poverty stricken on Crete many moons ago. After spending a few days in Athens seeing the sights, we had taken an industrial tanker to Crete and slept on bunk beds overnight just to save a buck. What we hadn't counted on was that there wasn't another cheap return to the mainland for another few weeks. So, after a number of days at the beach and nights at the disco, my sister and my roommate Bae flew back to London. I can't remember exactly when the others left. I just know that my girlfriends Gail and Oliver stayed in the little town of Malia with me until we could take the next tanker off the island.
Highlights of our visit included a) the creamy yogurt, b) the freshly made moussaka, c) dancing to "Vamos a la Playa" which was a big Eurotrash hit at the time, d) Oliver getting kissed on the lips by some Greek geezer who said, "You have such big, strong legs" (over which she was distraught for weeks -- not the kiss from an old man, mind you, but the fact that "he said I had big legs") and e) getting propositioned as we walked down the street by every guy who saw us (i.e., a crowd of young blonds and one gorgeous redhead). "Are you American?" "Will you marry me?" (Why not? Let's just skip the boring getting to know each other part.)
Once we finally arrived back in Athens, we found out that the bus we were planning to take to London was broken so we scored a fleabag hotel for approximately $1/night (i.e., $0.33/each). It had cockroaches the size of a man's shoe on the steps and the water didn't run. There was enough of a trickle in the sink to brush our teeth but no showers were to be had. We didn't have enough money to do much so we saved it for grilled cheese sandwiches each night in the deli across the street.
(Note: I'm sure our parents would have helped had they known but this was pre-cell phones and international ATMs. On a side note, the only call we did make from a payphone was to Scott Spezzano at Rochester's own WPXY because we heard "Sister Christian" one day and no one could remember the band. For those keeping score, it was Knight Ranger.)
Every time we walked in for "dinner," the owner of the restaurant would immediately play Dylan in the jukebox and call out "Three Cheese of America Sandwiches" as if he had known us for years.
How does it feel
To be on your own
With no direction home
Like a complete unknown
On our last day, we were trailed through the city by some middle eastern guys and we became a little fearful. When they hopped on the bus that we took to the beach, sat a few seats behind us, jumped off where we did and followed us onto the beach, we were scared to death. As the first group of guys we passed called out to us, Gail threw her towel and bag down and pretended we were the best of friends. "Hi!" Oliver and I followed and we ended up spending the day at the beach with these kind strangers who ensured our safety and drove us back to the hotel.
The next morning, we awoke to the cops outside. Our hotel was being condemned and we were being evicted. Oh well. When you got nothing, you got nothing to lose.
The other night, when the hubby's family came for Christmas, we began talking about Crete because my sister-in-law's best friend married a Greek man who now lives barefoot and begrudgingly on Long Island.
My girlfriends, sister and I were barefoot and begrudgingly poverty stricken on Crete many moons ago. After spending a few days in Athens seeing the sights, we had taken an industrial tanker to Crete and slept on bunk beds overnight just to save a buck. What we hadn't counted on was that there wasn't another cheap return to the mainland for another few weeks. So, after a number of days at the beach and nights at the disco, my sister and my roommate Bae flew back to London. I can't remember exactly when the others left. I just know that my girlfriends Gail and Oliver stayed in the little town of Malia with me until we could take the next tanker off the island.
Highlights of our visit included a) the creamy yogurt, b) the freshly made moussaka, c) dancing to "Vamos a la Playa" which was a big Eurotrash hit at the time, d) Oliver getting kissed on the lips by some Greek geezer who said, "You have such big, strong legs" (over which she was distraught for weeks -- not the kiss from an old man, mind you, but the fact that "he said I had big legs") and e) getting propositioned as we walked down the street by every guy who saw us (i.e., a crowd of young blonds and one gorgeous redhead). "Are you American?" "Will you marry me?" (Why not? Let's just skip the boring getting to know each other part.)
Once we finally arrived back in Athens, we found out that the bus we were planning to take to London was broken so we scored a fleabag hotel for approximately $1/night (i.e., $0.33/each). It had cockroaches the size of a man's shoe on the steps and the water didn't run. There was enough of a trickle in the sink to brush our teeth but no showers were to be had. We didn't have enough money to do much so we saved it for grilled cheese sandwiches each night in the deli across the street.
(Note: I'm sure our parents would have helped had they known but this was pre-cell phones and international ATMs. On a side note, the only call we did make from a payphone was to Scott Spezzano at Rochester's own WPXY because we heard "Sister Christian" one day and no one could remember the band. For those keeping score, it was Knight Ranger.)
Every time we walked in for "dinner," the owner of the restaurant would immediately play Dylan in the jukebox and call out "Three Cheese of America Sandwiches" as if he had known us for years.
How does it feel
To be on your own
With no direction home
Like a complete unknown
On our last day, we were trailed through the city by some middle eastern guys and we became a little fearful. When they hopped on the bus that we took to the beach, sat a few seats behind us, jumped off where we did and followed us onto the beach, we were scared to death. As the first group of guys we passed called out to us, Gail threw her towel and bag down and pretended we were the best of friends. "Hi!" Oliver and I followed and we ended up spending the day at the beach with these kind strangers who ensured our safety and drove us back to the hotel.
The next morning, we awoke to the cops outside. Our hotel was being condemned and we were being evicted. Oh well. When you got nothing, you got nothing to lose.
Monday, December 29, 2008
B-e A-g-g-r-e-s-s-i-v-e
Last night, after thanking God for our blessings, I asked Son #2 what one word he would use to describe our family.
Son #2: Aggressive.
Me: Huh? Aggressive?
Son #2: Yeah, dad always cross checks me.
Me: Wow, I wasn't expecting that.
Son #2: After that it would be "funny." Well, at least daddy and I are funny. You can be sometimes, too, but not really.
Son #1's response was "playful." I didn't have the heart to know if I was included in that or not.
Son #2: Aggressive.
Me: Huh? Aggressive?
Son #2: Yeah, dad always cross checks me.
Me: Wow, I wasn't expecting that.
Son #2: After that it would be "funny." Well, at least daddy and I are funny. You can be sometimes, too, but not really.
Son #1's response was "playful." I didn't have the heart to know if I was included in that or not.
Thursday, December 25, 2008
Merry Christmas!
From the kids' mayhem, glow stick (turned light sabre) Christmas service at BCC last night to the peaceful, inspirational mass at St. Louis Church today, I am filled with the joy of the season.
Merry Christmas from our Star Wars Legos/Jaromir Jagr hockey house to yours.
Merry Christmas from our Star Wars Legos/Jaromir Jagr hockey house to yours.
Wednesday, December 24, 2008
Twas the Day Before Christmas
And all through the RAC, not a treadmill was stirring . . . so, would someone please tell me why the gym is closed on Christmas Eve?
Anyhoo, before the Christmas carnage begins, highlights of my soon-to-be-a-distant-memory birthday include:
Anyhoo, before the Christmas carnage begins, highlights of my soon-to-be-a-distant-memory birthday include:
- A cannot-stop-shoving-food-in-my-mouth-because-it's-so-good meal that my brother-in-law made complete with tenderloin that could melt in your mouth
- Awesome presents from gorgeous sweaters to a trendy salsa/chips bowl, from iDogs to iPods, from wine to kahlua, and from furry purses to giant, fluffy pillows -- once again, spoiled rotten -- and one donation made in my name to the Smile Train which somehow tempers the greed a little and, for which, I am grateful
- A fun-filled dinner at Tastings with my girlfriends where I had a beautiful and delicious (red and rimmed with gold sugar) fruitcake martini: two things that remind me of my Uncle Ed who I love and two things that, when mixed, prove that the whole can be greater than the sum of its parts
- A birthday card that addressed the manly "why buy the cow when you can get the milk for free?" question with its feminist counterpoint, "why buy the pig when you just need a little sausage?"
- Getting my Christmas bonus . . . ahhhhhhhhhhhh
- Leaving work on time for two whole days in a row; OMG, 44 is empowering! I feel like Oh Mighty Isis. What's next? Commanding the forces of nature?
Monday, December 22, 2008
Twenty Two Times Two!
Yea! Today's my birthday. My acupuncturist was telling me that 44 denotes a powerful year in numerology. She also mentioned how Barack Obama will be our 44th president. Coincidence? I think not. I'm looking forward to brandishing my new found strength by dominating the world this year, too!
On an unrelated note, if you're sick of online shopping and want a few minutes of browsing fun, head over to Sleeveface which describes itself as "one or more persons obscuring or augmenting any part of their body or bodies with record sleeve(s) causing an illusion."
Inspiring, right?! Makes me want to create a photo of my own to submit over the holidays!
On an unrelated note, if you're sick of online shopping and want a few minutes of browsing fun, head over to Sleeveface which describes itself as "one or more persons obscuring or augmenting any part of their body or bodies with record sleeve(s) causing an illusion."
Inspiring, right?! Makes me want to create a photo of my own to submit over the holidays!
Friday, December 19, 2008
Marshmallow World
In honor of the local preemptive school closings, the start of our first really big winter storm this season and the fact that I watched a jogger jump into a snow bank this morning to avoid becoming road kill from the town salt truck, I decided to play one of my favorite peppy winter tunes: Marshmallow World. Nothing can beat the Phil Spector "Wall of Sound" from one of the best Christmas albums ever. I just wish I could sing as sweetly as Darlene Love (as does anyone who can hear me).
Thursday, December 18, 2008
You're a Mean One
This lazy blog thing is fun. Well, for me at least. Today's selection is an old remake of an even older classic from The Grinch Who Stole Christmas. Not sure if the Whirling Dervishes had any other hits but I love hearing them on the radio throughout this time of year.
Speaking of Christmas classics, I went to my friend Pam's CAbi sale over the weekend where she was selling a black wool vest with green and red crosshatched lines running through it. Without thinking, I commented, "Wow, I could channel Burl Ives in this!" and she responded, "I love that. I wear it all the time with jeans and a white blouse." I didn't quite know how to recover so I just left it alone. She's beautiful and can get away with it, I'm sure.
Anyhoo, enjoy!
Speaking of Christmas classics, I went to my friend Pam's CAbi sale over the weekend where she was selling a black wool vest with green and red crosshatched lines running through it. Without thinking, I commented, "Wow, I could channel Burl Ives in this!" and she responded, "I love that. I wear it all the time with jeans and a white blouse." I didn't quite know how to recover so I just left it alone. She's beautiful and can get away with it, I'm sure.
Anyhoo, enjoy!
Monday, December 15, 2008
Till He Appeared and the Soul Felt its Worth
I was going to save this song for last given that it's a Christmas classic in the true sense of the definition. But after spending the morning in church celebrating the life of my girlfriend Christine's dad who passed away last week and singing along to a number of my favorite hymns including both Ave Maria and Amazing Grace (which, circumstances notwithstanding, always bring me to tears), I thought it would be best to select a proper Christmas hymn today.
"Oh Holy Night" is also a favorite that I share with my mom which makes it even more special for me. While I'm not a fan of Celine Dion and almost went with the Tracy Chapman version, I opted for the traditional rendering. The words, if you take a moment to listen, are beyond compare.
Fall on your knees
Oh hear the angel voices
Oh night divine
Oh night when Christ was born
It makes me want to drop to the ground and thank God for such an amazing gift. Yes, the weary world rejoices!
"Oh Holy Night" is also a favorite that I share with my mom which makes it even more special for me. While I'm not a fan of Celine Dion and almost went with the Tracy Chapman version, I opted for the traditional rendering. The words, if you take a moment to listen, are beyond compare.
Fall on your knees
Oh hear the angel voices
Oh night divine
Oh night when Christ was born
It makes me want to drop to the ground and thank God for such an amazing gift. Yes, the weary world rejoices!
Sunday, December 14, 2008
Christmas in Hollis
Today's video is being brought to you by another guest blogger: Son #1! Welcome.
Question: Hey my friend, what do you like so much about Run-D.M.C.?
Answer: Don't know.
Question: Don't know? I thought for sure you would pick The Ramones, "Merry Christmas I Don't Wanna Fight Tonight" (another great choice, I may add). Why "Christmas in Hollis"?
Answer: I don't know. The music. Sheesh.
Alrighty then. Thanks for blogging with me. And I 'll tell you why I like it: It was a letter from Santa and the dough is for me!
Question: Hey my friend, what do you like so much about Run-D.M.C.?
Answer: Don't know.
Question: Don't know? I thought for sure you would pick The Ramones, "Merry Christmas I Don't Wanna Fight Tonight" (another great choice, I may add). Why "Christmas in Hollis"?
Answer: I don't know. The music. Sheesh.
Alrighty then. Thanks for blogging with me. And I 'll tell you why I like it: It was a letter from Santa and the dough is for me!
Saturday, December 13, 2008
Snowball Fight
Today's video (not the Jimmy Fallon original but the preferred video for little boys) is being brought to you by today's guest blogger: Son #2.
Question: Why do you like this song so much that we listen to it 700 times each winter?
Answer: I like it
Question: That's it? It's as simple as that? Nothing about the speed of the music? The snot?
Answer: Its allll good
Okay then. Without further ado, welcome to my life with crazy boys.
Question: Why do you like this song so much that we listen to it 700 times each winter?
Answer: I like it
Question: That's it? It's as simple as that? Nothing about the speed of the music? The snot?
Answer: Its allll good
Okay then. Without further ado, welcome to my life with crazy boys.
Thursday, December 11, 2008
Christmas Eve Babe in the Drunk Tank
As someone who doesn't keep her Christmas lights on -- on my front porch all year long, So happy Christmas, I love you baby. I can see a better time when all our dreams come true . . .
Wednesday, December 10, 2008
Catholic Guilt
I coerced Margaret and Martin to go to St. Patrick's with me last weekend since we were headed next door to Saks anyway. It was so crowded that you could barely inch your way to the front. We ended up saying a quick prayer while Martin sat behind us Googling places to eat for dinner on his iPhone. As we sat back in the pew, Margaret and I began talking (quietly I may add) about the Virgin Mary and the Catholic vs. Protestant viewpoint of her. The next thing you know, an old man in his priestly garb (perhaps a monsignor?) came and rapped me on the shoulder, shock his head at us in a reproaching manner and repeatedly put his finger to his lips to shush us.
Oooo, how shameful!
Key learning: It's okay to walk around as a tourist, chat about the architecture and stop to take pictures but do not, under any circumstances, whisper about religion! What do you think this is? A cathedral?
Next time, I'll have to remember to text God while I'm there. I'm sure he won't mind.
Thankfully, as I walked alone to meet Janette and Laura for lunch later that morning, I happened to pass St. Malachy's, the "actors church," where years ago my grandfather would meet me on weekends while I was visiting friends in Hell's Kitchen. There I had a few minutes of real peace and prayer. And I lit a five-day candle in memory of my grandfather whom I miss a lot. Still. Wild to think that it may still be burning right now!
Oooo, how shameful!
Key learning: It's okay to walk around as a tourist, chat about the architecture and stop to take pictures but do not, under any circumstances, whisper about religion! What do you think this is? A cathedral?
Next time, I'll have to remember to text God while I'm there. I'm sure he won't mind.
Thankfully, as I walked alone to meet Janette and Laura for lunch later that morning, I happened to pass St. Malachy's, the "actors church," where years ago my grandfather would meet me on weekends while I was visiting friends in Hell's Kitchen. There I had a few minutes of real peace and prayer. And I lit a five-day candle in memory of my grandfather whom I miss a lot. Still. Wild to think that it may still be burning right now!
Tuesday, December 9, 2008
Grad School Reunion!
They tried to make me go to rehab but I said “no, no, no.”
Okay, where to start with a fun-filled four day trip to NYC? Definitely with friends because I have the best friends anyone could ever wish for. Margaroo – definitely my best friend in a “past life” too (per her beliefs!) with heaps of continued common music/God interests to talk about. Martin – generous beyond belief, funny and kind to boot. Melissa – gorgeous, sweet, fun and spunky. Laura – awesome friendship that, over this weekend, included much schlepping about while I tried on clothes. (Sorry!) Petey – absolutely love him. Period. Janette – inspirational, energetic, driven and my future business partner, right?! Not to mention I loved meeting her gorgeous kids. John C. – really funny, as always. And it was nice to meet the “ex” girlfriend. Anu – elegant, beautiful and kind. Lastly, Ann and John – classic, upscale, reserved and probably wondering how on earth they ever became friends with us to begin with! (Read conservative: Ann rolled her eyes and promised to take in an episode of the Colbert Report in return for me trying Gossip Girls. I’m definitely game for that.)
I’m just sad that four days goes by so quickly.
If there’s a recession, it’s only noticeable by the crazy markdowns in the stores. Amazing sales but I’m not sure they’re warranted just yet. I have never seen so many people shopping in all my life. It was virtually impossible to navigate the sidewalks in the
From dawn to well beyond dusk, we never stopped. We shopped at Century 21, Reiss, Zara (total crap), Bloomies, Saks, Designer Resale (my fave), ABC Carpet and Home, myriad shoe stores and the holiday fair at Union Square – which is one of my all-time favorite things to do at Christmas time. And the dude in the Celtic jewelry stand where Margaret bought her cross even played The Pogues “Fairy Tale in
After all that, I only came home with two fat-ass-covering, cashmere sweaters and some cheap bracelets. Oh, and two hats: one orange and the other a leopard skin cap that Martin bought (i.e., one for each of us). Fun!
Speaking of fat asses, walked throughout downtown on Bleecker to find the best cupcakes in the world at Magnolia Bakery and then found them right up the street from our hotel at the Sixth
Ate at normal but fun restaurants like the Shake Shack, Heartland Brewery, Chat 'n' Chew and a cool, newish bistro called Five Napkins (where I had a yummy frozen strawberry mojito at lunch – hey, I was on vacation). We also had a tasty meal (with a lychee martini) at Indochine where our cute waiter was great. Actually, we pretty much tested every appetizer there, too – all were fabooo. I even tried and liked the lamb appetizer. Who knew?
We ended that night at the Apartment in Grand Central Station where I had a big punch drink in an oversized brandy snifter. The next night Martin treated us to an unbelievable meal (read: non-economic downturn prices), with delicious wine, at Valbella a modern industrial space in the meatpacking district. Our waiter there was topnotch, too. Especially since his specials list went on for the better part of five minutes. Uh, could you repeat that? I opted for the shrimp stuffed with crabmeat stuffed with lobster stuffed with whatever else they could find appetizer followed by the white truffle linguini. Low fat for sure. And then we shared a Grand Marnier soufflé, two chocolate soufflés and crème brulee. Hello.
And my favorite of all favorite things to do in NYC? I went to church at Redeemer Presbyterian where Tim Keller preached a sermon on, of all topics, work! It was as if he knew I was going to be there . . . Also, the choir brought me to tears. It’s simply powerful to hear hymns echoed by a throng of hundreds. Just beautiful, I say, beautiful.
It was a perfect weekend. Perfect. However, now is the time to detox and I'll say, "yes, yes, yes."
Monday, December 8, 2008
Let's Say Thanks
Back at my desk after a fabulous weekend in NYC. No time to write about it yet but I thought I would pass along this site where you can write a thank you note to a soldier who is currently serving in Iraq and it will be printed/sent for free.
The cards are designed by kids and they're really sweet.
The cards are designed by kids and they're really sweet.
Wednesday, December 3, 2008
Light at the End of the Tunnel
I have a client who typically says at the end of his presentations, "I'm the only thing standing between you and happy hour . . . with that said, does anyone have any questions?"
Today I have to attend a meeting on a sales commission structure that we developed for a manufacturing client, write a terms & conditions document for a new business venture, develop one side-by-side comparison of a boutique client v. their nationwide competitor for a sales pitch, review/edit an RFQ for a website redesign, complete some remaining secondary market research for a client presentation, attend a client meeting to review a software application they're considering, pull together some interview questions to kick-off two strategic planning projects and have a conference call regarding a contract we wrote months ago to support a fledgling business partnership . . .
These are the only things standing between me and my four day weekend in NYC! Yippee!
Today I have to attend a meeting on a sales commission structure that we developed for a manufacturing client, write a terms & conditions document for a new business venture, develop one side-by-side comparison of a boutique client v. their nationwide competitor for a sales pitch, review/edit an RFQ for a website redesign, complete some remaining secondary market research for a client presentation, attend a client meeting to review a software application they're considering, pull together some interview questions to kick-off two strategic planning projects and have a conference call regarding a contract we wrote months ago to support a fledgling business partnership . . .
These are the only things standing between me and my four day weekend in NYC! Yippee!
Sunday, November 30, 2008
It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas
Q: What do you get when you mix CVS's finest "lighted porcelain angel tree top" with a sledgehammer, vintage dog head and a glue gun?
A: An updated version of a family classic -- but with a new, ultra-gaudy gown!
From this heinous masterpiece:
To this delightful little pooch who's ready to adorn our tree:
I rescued the dog's head, little black paws (which aren't shown in this photo) and the original, padded silver fabric wings as the CVS garden variety came with clear, plastic wings. We can finally ring in the season with, er, taste . . .
A: An updated version of a family classic -- but with a new, ultra-gaudy gown!
From this heinous masterpiece:
To this delightful little pooch who's ready to adorn our tree:
I rescued the dog's head, little black paws (which aren't shown in this photo) and the original, padded silver fabric wings as the CVS garden variety came with clear, plastic wings. We can finally ring in the season with, er, taste . . .
Saturday, November 29, 2008
Talking Smock
Sheer fantabulousness close to home: Smock! Absolutely beautiful thank you notes, party invitations, wrapping paper, Christmas cards, etc. all designed and printed using 20 letterpresses in sunny, downtown Syracuse, NY.
The best part? At $14 for a box of six or eight, they're affordable. Support your local artisans!
The best part? At $14 for a box of six or eight, they're affordable. Support your local artisans!
Friday, November 28, 2008
Papier Mache
I'm not really into folk art but aren't these sweet little blue birds adorable? Or this awesome Labrador?
I love how Etsy enables shops like this to thrive. I just wish I were crafty enough to create and sell my own pieces. Instead, I could spend the better part of a day going from seller to seller and checking out the handcrafted goods. Sure beats hitting the mall during the Christmas season!
I love how Etsy enables shops like this to thrive. I just wish I were crafty enough to create and sell my own pieces. Instead, I could spend the better part of a day going from seller to seller and checking out the handcrafted goods. Sure beats hitting the mall during the Christmas season!
Thursday, November 27, 2008
Happy Thanksgiving!
As it was in the beginning (one love!)
So shall it be in the end (one heart!)
All right
Give thanks and praise to the Lord and I will feel all right
Lets get together and feel all right
----------------
I love Thanksgiving. An entire day dedicated to being thankful for our blessings -- of which I have many. As much as Thanksgiving will forever remind me of NYC and countless holidays spent with my grandpa (not to mention the requisite Black Friday trip to Bloomingdale's), I woke up thinking about a more recent Thanksgiving today. Specifically, when my brother Mark and his wife were in town from North Carolina a couple of years ago. My sister-in-law Stephanie and I stopped by a local country dive bar called "The Roost." When we arrived, we were the only people there so we called everyone to join us. Even Grannie, who really doesn't drink, came for a cocktail.
An hour later (maybe two?), this place that I had previously never heard of was packed to the gills with line dancing. Yee haw! There was a really cute (alcohol talking?) DJ named David Lee wearing a cowboy hat and teaching us all to dance. Yes, us. That is until we got kicked off the dance floor for not paying the cover charge . . . no perks for getting there early?
I've since learned that The Roost is hopping all of the time. Who knew? Needless to say, I've never been back. But if Steph is interested in driving back up here, I'm willing to pay the cover!
Happy Thanksgiving!
So shall it be in the end (one heart!)
All right
Give thanks and praise to the Lord and I will feel all right
Lets get together and feel all right
----------------
I love Thanksgiving. An entire day dedicated to being thankful for our blessings -- of which I have many. As much as Thanksgiving will forever remind me of NYC and countless holidays spent with my grandpa (not to mention the requisite Black Friday trip to Bloomingdale's), I woke up thinking about a more recent Thanksgiving today. Specifically, when my brother Mark and his wife were in town from North Carolina a couple of years ago. My sister-in-law Stephanie and I stopped by a local country dive bar called "The Roost." When we arrived, we were the only people there so we called everyone to join us. Even Grannie, who really doesn't drink, came for a cocktail.
An hour later (maybe two?), this place that I had previously never heard of was packed to the gills with line dancing. Yee haw! There was a really cute (alcohol talking?) DJ named David Lee wearing a cowboy hat and teaching us all to dance. Yes, us. That is until we got kicked off the dance floor for not paying the cover charge . . . no perks for getting there early?
I've since learned that The Roost is hopping all of the time. Who knew? Needless to say, I've never been back. But if Steph is interested in driving back up here, I'm willing to pay the cover!
Happy Thanksgiving!
Friday, November 21, 2008
Depends . . .
Question: What's the worst part about coming to work super early?
Answer: The fact that I can't leave my office to go to the ladies room without tripping the alarm system.
More than you cared to know?
Answer: The fact that I can't leave my office to go to the ladies room without tripping the alarm system.
More than you cared to know?
Wednesday, November 19, 2008
Sunflowers and Snow
I bought the most beautiful bouquet of flowers for my desk on Monday from Wegman's for under ten bucks. They look like they were delivered fresh from Arenas. Bright red/orange sunflowers mixed with gorgeous greens that seem to me (i.e., an un-naturalist!) to be herbs, berries and funky grasses. Just looking at this arrangement is helping me to forget that just behind me, outside my wall o' windows, lies a row of pine trees laden with snow. Snow!
The blanket of snow on the lawn between homes is so idyllic that it's hard to believe there were near white-out conditions while I was driving home through the park last night. Cars off the road due to black ice. Portions of the expressway closed.
Please remind me again: why do I live here?
The blanket of snow on the lawn between homes is so idyllic that it's hard to believe there were near white-out conditions while I was driving home through the park last night. Cars off the road due to black ice. Portions of the expressway closed.
Please remind me again: why do I live here?
Sunday, November 16, 2008
Life be not Proud
A couple of years ago, my siblings and I began crafting our mother’s obituary. Even though she’s thankfully in perfect health (i.e., she’s feeling spry!), we thought we could get a leg up on this unfortunate event -- not to mention obtain her permission beforehand to take certain liberties with her public tribute, so to speak.
For whatever reason, I seem to have misplaced what was written; however, I’m pretty sure it started with something to the effect of “died suddenly due to a chocolate overdose” and continued with the line “leaves behind her lifelong passion of making fun of other people’s obituaries.” Since then, every once in a while, mom will call or email with a stolen line from a new obituary that she wants to co-opt for her own.
“Should we add ‘avid bowler’?” asks the woman who needs help lifting small objects.
“This one says 'spectacular mother of . . . ' ” she says, pausing for dramatic effect.
Last weekend, our local paper printed the mother lode of all obits which was (I believe) written firmly tongue in cheek by a local woman’s loving daughter and someone whom I wish I knew!
Sample lines from what may be one of the lengthiest obits ever written include:
For whatever reason, I seem to have misplaced what was written; however, I’m pretty sure it started with something to the effect of “died suddenly due to a chocolate overdose” and continued with the line “leaves behind her lifelong passion of making fun of other people’s obituaries.” Since then, every once in a while, mom will call or email with a stolen line from a new obituary that she wants to co-opt for her own.
“Should we add ‘avid bowler’?” asks the woman who needs help lifting small objects.
“This one says 'spectacular mother of . . . ' ” she says, pausing for dramatic effect.
Last weekend, our local paper printed the mother lode of all obits which was (I believe) written firmly tongue in cheek by a local woman’s loving daughter and someone whom I wish I knew!
Sample lines from what may be one of the lengthiest obits ever written include:
- Predeceased by her parents, brother, 163 cats, 9 dogs, 4 horses, and numerous chickens.
- Ann's early years were touched by the Depression, and were pivotal in developing what she termed “Cliffy syndrome,” the exultant satisfaction derived from saving money. Ann relished trading thrift stories with other members of the family also afflicted.
- Ann loved growing things; be it plants, a savings account, or paperwork on her desk.
- Ann also enjoyed the music section; in her lifetime she blew out three sets of stereo speakers: on Polkas, Sousa marches, and Placido Domingo.
- There will be no service, as per her emphatic command not to drag those who loved her over emotional hot coals. (Note: my favorite of all and oddly enough my mom's wish, as well!)
- Donations in her memory may be made to Habitat for Cats or you can adopt one or more of the 31 houseplants and tender perennials she has in the basement.
- Mother Nature requests everyone living near my parents to step up their efforts for wildlife, as there will be significant slack to be taken up.
Per our mom's request, I'm pretty sure ours will be much, much shorter. But I take comfort in the fact that other families may be as willing to laugh in the face of tough subjects as ours!
Friday, November 14, 2008
Multi-tasking at its Finest
Son #1 picked up the phone a minute ago.
Son #1: "Oh hi Mama. We're just watching Phineas and Ferb."
Me: "Cool. What's daddy doing?"
Son #1: "He's watching it with us. But now he's pretending to snore so he doesn't have to talk to you."
Son #1: "Oh hi Mama. We're just watching Phineas and Ferb."
Me: "Cool. What's daddy doing?"
Son #1: "He's watching it with us. But now he's pretending to snore so he doesn't have to talk to you."
Thursday, November 13, 2008
It's Holiday Time Again!
I sat with a client briefly yesterday to discuss the details of their holiday party: decorating the atrium and tree, food, wine, invitations, etc.
In the course of planning, I was reminded of a joke my grandfather used to tell where two friends run into each other on the street. One says to the other, "Did you hear that Myrna's having an affair?" and the other responds, "Oh? Who's the caterer?"
Padum pum.
In the course of planning, I was reminded of a joke my grandfather used to tell where two friends run into each other on the street. One says to the other, "Did you hear that Myrna's having an affair?" and the other responds, "Oh? Who's the caterer?"
Padum pum.
Monday, November 10, 2008
Our Bon Vivant
Son #2 has been wearing his new robe from Target so much that we've begun calling him "Hef."
In return, in his typical style, he's been unexpectedly peppering us with unique colloquialisms as only a seven year old can deliver. "What the hef are you doing?" or "Hey, what the hef is going on around here?"
William Safire would be proud. As would Hef methinks.
In return, in his typical style, he's been unexpectedly peppering us with unique colloquialisms as only a seven year old can deliver. "What the hef are you doing?" or "Hey, what the hef is going on around here?"
William Safire would be proud. As would Hef methinks.
Saturday, November 8, 2008
You're in the Right Neighborhood When . . .
Your girlfriend next door welcomes you home on a Friday evening with a personalized chalk illustration on your front doorstep!
Thursday, November 6, 2008
And They'll Know We Are Christians by Our Love
As a result of this election, I'm being inundated with heaps of upsetting messages from my Christian friends including:
Most importantly, I firmly understand why people don't want to be associated with my belief system. My walk with Christ is just that: my walk. Not yours. Not anyone else's. But if we continue to be unloving toward those who are not on the same path, then I can guarantee that I'll be walking alone. Who on earth would want to join me?
- Emails regarding Obama's potential choice of "fanatically pro-abortion" Kathleen Sebelius for a cabinet position. Yet, according to an April 2008 press release from her office as governor of Kansas, "Over the last several years, we have worked on lowering abortion rates in Kansas by focusing on adoption incentives, extended health services for pregnant women, providing sex education and offering a variety of support services for families. Those efforts are having a positive impact; recently we learned that the abortion rate in Kansas continues to go down." In addition, according to the Kansas Department of Health and Environment, abortions have declined 9% since she took office in 2002. What gives?
- A celebratory email regarding California's Prop 8 decision which my girlfriend Melanie at Left Coast Mom thankfully covered exceptionally well regarding the embedded hypocrisy. So if my hubby dies, I cannot remarry as a Christian because I have no intention of procreating? Yeah, okay.
- Prayers regarding if the enemy is behind Obama's victory. Meanwhile, we're in two wars and the economy is tanking. Are those crises Obama's fault? No. So why is the current regime somehow more acceptable and more Christ-like? I sincerely do not get it.
Most importantly, I firmly understand why people don't want to be associated with my belief system. My walk with Christ is just that: my walk. Not yours. Not anyone else's. But if we continue to be unloving toward those who are not on the same path, then I can guarantee that I'll be walking alone. Who on earth would want to join me?
Wednesday, November 5, 2008
Farm Fetid Kitchen
Son #2 wanted Thanksgiving dinner for his birthday and the hubby obliged with a fabulous turkey, homemade stuffing and the most delicious, creamy, summer squash soup ever known to mankind. With meals like that at home, why venture out?
To have fun with your girlfriends, that's why! To celebrate birthdays. To de-stress. To catch up. To try new restaurants. To drink martinis. And to write blog postings . . .
Step aside vomit-inducing meal across the street, welcome Farm Fresh Kitchen! As stated on their website, "We believe meals can taste divine and still be good for you too. Really -- it can be done." Just not at their restaurant -- something they failed to mention.
Oh, where to begin? Maybe a laundry list will suffice: the rolls were stale, the pumpkin martini didn't taste like pumpkin, my quarter-sized tuna credo tasted like it spent the better part of a day rotting on the pier, someone dumped a liter of salt in the couscous, and the gnocchi was pure mush. On a minor note, we got a different bottle of wine than ordered; however, it was fine. Thankfully our waitress took the tuna off the bill and gave us a free dessert (for the birthday girl at the table).
But at $48 per person, not remotely worth the investment.
Oddly enough, the place was empty. I wonder why.
To have fun with your girlfriends, that's why! To celebrate birthdays. To de-stress. To catch up. To try new restaurants. To drink martinis. And to write blog postings . . .
Step aside vomit-inducing meal across the street, welcome Farm Fresh Kitchen! As stated on their website, "We believe meals can taste divine and still be good for you too. Really -- it can be done." Just not at their restaurant -- something they failed to mention.
Oh, where to begin? Maybe a laundry list will suffice: the rolls were stale, the pumpkin martini didn't taste like pumpkin, my quarter-sized tuna credo tasted like it spent the better part of a day rotting on the pier, someone dumped a liter of salt in the couscous, and the gnocchi was pure mush. On a minor note, we got a different bottle of wine than ordered; however, it was fine. Thankfully our waitress took the tuna off the bill and gave us a free dessert (for the birthday girl at the table).
But at $48 per person, not remotely worth the investment.
Oddly enough, the place was empty. I wonder why.
Sunday, November 2, 2008
Monkey Turns Seven
Happy birthday Monks!
Son #2 is on the couch wearing a blue robe (that's covered in basketballs, footballs and soccer balls). He's wearing a Clone Trooper face mask, holding his drum sticks, and singing the Ramones, "shoot 'em in the back now."
It doesn't get much better than this. You just never know what to expect with kids.
Speaking of which, while trick-or-treating the other night, I warned the kids, "Do NOT say anything bad about the candy anyone gives you." Why? Because last year an old man was handing out Necco wafers and all the kids were saying, "Ew." To his face.
This year all went well until we got to one house where Son #1 didn't say "Thank you." I asked, "Dude, did you even say thanks?"
"No, she smelled like Subway."
Subway. Eat Fresh. And stink up the house, apparently.
Son #2 is on the couch wearing a blue robe (that's covered in basketballs, footballs and soccer balls). He's wearing a Clone Trooper face mask, holding his drum sticks, and singing the Ramones, "shoot 'em in the back now."
It doesn't get much better than this. You just never know what to expect with kids.
Speaking of which, while trick-or-treating the other night, I warned the kids, "Do NOT say anything bad about the candy anyone gives you." Why? Because last year an old man was handing out Necco wafers and all the kids were saying, "Ew." To his face.
This year all went well until we got to one house where Son #1 didn't say "Thank you." I asked, "Dude, did you even say thanks?"
"No, she smelled like Subway."
Subway. Eat Fresh. And stink up the house, apparently.
Friday, October 31, 2008
Intergalactic Planetary Mom
When I told Son #2 that I would come home early tonight to go trick-or-treating, he jumped up and down a couple of times and gave me a huge hug.
"You're the best mom in town. In the world. Wait, you're the best mom in the universe. Except for that one mom on the planet Zircon -- I heard she's pretty awesome."
"You're the best mom in town. In the world. Wait, you're the best mom in the universe. Except for that one mom on the planet Zircon -- I heard she's pretty awesome."
Thursday, October 30, 2008
Joe the Tight End
Grannie Annie played football with Son #2 today. While playing, she began bragging that she was as good as Joe Namath, Joe Montana and Joe . . .
Son #2: Joe the Plumber?
Son #2: Joe the Plumber?
Wednesday, October 29, 2008
Hold on to that Feelin'
From my co-worker Scott who is leaving me for greener pastures . . .
(Taken on his cell phone in the Park Ave. neighborhood.)
(Taken on his cell phone in the Park Ave. neighborhood.)
Monday, October 27, 2008
Reading, Writing and Right Wing Rhetoric
Son #1 said to the hubby after school today, "I heard that if Obama wins the election, we'll have to go to school on snow days."
Yes and abortions will be mandatory.
Yes and abortions will be mandatory.
Saturday, October 25, 2008
Can You Hear Me Now?
Son #2: I can't waaaaait for my birthday party next weekend -- Village Sports is going to be sooooooooooo much fun.
Son #1: Duh. Birthday parties are always fun.
Son #2: But Village Sports is the best.
Son #1: Doesn't matter. Can you think of anywhere that wouldn't be fun if it was a party?
Son #2: Verizon Wireless.
Holy non sequitur Batman! But he is right . . .
Son #1: Duh. Birthday parties are always fun.
Son #2: But Village Sports is the best.
Son #1: Doesn't matter. Can you think of anywhere that wouldn't be fun if it was a party?
Son #2: Verizon Wireless.
Holy non sequitur Batman! But he is right . . .
Friday, October 24, 2008
Riddle Me This
Q: What happens when you're too tired to carry your laptop home even though you have heaps o' work to do?
A: Why you freak out, shower and come to work at 3:30 a.m., silly.
Isn't that what everyone does?
A: Why you freak out, shower and come to work at 3:30 a.m., silly.
Isn't that what everyone does?
Thursday, October 23, 2008
Heart Melt!
Son #1 began punching his brother for no apparent reason while we were sitting on the couch last night.
Me: What the heck is going on?
Son #2 (with arms tightly wrapped around me): He's jealous 'cause I got the girl.
Me: What the heck is going on?
Son #2 (with arms tightly wrapped around me): He's jealous 'cause I got the girl.
Tuesday, October 21, 2008
Tropical Rain Forest
My boss just got back from eight days in Costa Rica where she and her daughter had a blast. Her daughter sent a bunch of pictures of the rain forest, monkeys, crocodiles, butterflies, beaches, yachts and waterfalls. But my favorites were those of my boss, post zip-lining in the rain, with her face absolutely covered in grease and monkey poo. I used one as the background on the main office computer because it's hilarious.
Many years ago, I left my girlfriend Bridget in Tasmania where we were working, and went to travel Australia alone. I made my way from Melbourne up to Alice Springs and Ayers Rock over to Cairns and up to Cape Tribulation before heading back down to Byron Bay and ultimately Sydney where I arrived, penniless. I then borrowed money from my girlfriend Kris' now husband John so that I could afford two more weeks in Tahiti on my way home. Shameless! During my travels, I barely ate and spent my nights in backpackers' hostels that were, at times, covered floor-to-ceiling in geckos. I met heaps of great people, and literally ran into a couple I knew from Tasmania on the beach in Byron Bay, but really just wanted to be by myself for the most part.
I was thinking about all of this yesterday when leafing through the photos because one morning, while in northern Queensland, I awoke early so I could take a long hike through the rain forest. It was vibrant, green and lush. The ferns were dripping with moisture and the sounds were indescribable. It felt so otherworldly and luxurious to me. As I got further and further into the forest, I began to get a little fearful until one point where there was this gigantic lizard blocking my path forward -- which totally unnerved me. I didn't know what to do. Could I step over it? Was it a man-eating lizard? Would it please move? I somehow made my way past it but by then I was freaking out. I felt so alone and knew that I could be the only person in this part of the world for miles. Who would find my scattered remains? And when?
A second later, I entered a clearing that was littered with empty cases of beer, potato chip bags and other remnants of a recent party.
So much for the feelings of isolation and grandeur. My exotic rain forest experience vanished instantly on the heels of an Aussie frat party. And, to make matters worse, I arrived a few hours too late.
Many years ago, I left my girlfriend Bridget in Tasmania where we were working, and went to travel Australia alone. I made my way from Melbourne up to Alice Springs and Ayers Rock over to Cairns and up to Cape Tribulation before heading back down to Byron Bay and ultimately Sydney where I arrived, penniless. I then borrowed money from my girlfriend Kris' now husband John so that I could afford two more weeks in Tahiti on my way home. Shameless! During my travels, I barely ate and spent my nights in backpackers' hostels that were, at times, covered floor-to-ceiling in geckos. I met heaps of great people, and literally ran into a couple I knew from Tasmania on the beach in Byron Bay, but really just wanted to be by myself for the most part.
I was thinking about all of this yesterday when leafing through the photos because one morning, while in northern Queensland, I awoke early so I could take a long hike through the rain forest. It was vibrant, green and lush. The ferns were dripping with moisture and the sounds were indescribable. It felt so otherworldly and luxurious to me. As I got further and further into the forest, I began to get a little fearful until one point where there was this gigantic lizard blocking my path forward -- which totally unnerved me. I didn't know what to do. Could I step over it? Was it a man-eating lizard? Would it please move? I somehow made my way past it but by then I was freaking out. I felt so alone and knew that I could be the only person in this part of the world for miles. Who would find my scattered remains? And when?
A second later, I entered a clearing that was littered with empty cases of beer, potato chip bags and other remnants of a recent party.
So much for the feelings of isolation and grandeur. My exotic rain forest experience vanished instantly on the heels of an Aussie frat party. And, to make matters worse, I arrived a few hours too late.
Monday, October 20, 2008
Abstract Cuisinart
It's common during new product development to spend time in situe with actual users to see how the product performs in naturally occurring situations (e.g., home, work, school, street), learn what issues customers are facing and gain new insights to drive product improvements.
With that said, how is it possible that our brand new Cuisinart coffee maker has what basically amounts to invisible marks denoting the water line (which the hubby has now delineated with a green Sharpie). Now we no longer have to guess how many cups we're making but the streamlined aesthetics "for a look that is sure to enhance your countertop" have been slightly downgraded. Not that I care about how it looks but, come on, pouring water into the thing is one of the principle steps of coffee making. How can they get that basic function wrong?
Also, in less than a week, the carafe lid came out of the dishwasher this morning with slight coffee staining. Already. I'm not a polymer scientist but surely there's another resin they've tested for coffeemakers that doesn't stain, no?
Grumpy Monday?
With that said, how is it possible that our brand new Cuisinart coffee maker has what basically amounts to invisible marks denoting the water line (which the hubby has now delineated with a green Sharpie). Now we no longer have to guess how many cups we're making but the streamlined aesthetics "for a look that is sure to enhance your countertop" have been slightly downgraded. Not that I care about how it looks but, come on, pouring water into the thing is one of the principle steps of coffee making. How can they get that basic function wrong?
Also, in less than a week, the carafe lid came out of the dishwasher this morning with slight coffee staining. Already. I'm not a polymer scientist but surely there's another resin they've tested for coffeemakers that doesn't stain, no?
Grumpy Monday?
Friday, October 17, 2008
Real Housewives of Atlanta
What's with these Real Housewives shows? I cannot get enough. Seriously, spending $18K on your daughter's 11th birthday party? It is so over the blinkin' top that I'm mesmerized. The little girl also received a Louis Vuitton bag from her mom that cost over $1.5K. Did I mention that this same mom went out on a spur-of-the-moment spree and bought herself a brand spanking new Cadillac Escalade and appeared to pay the sticker price? With a check? Nowadays, with the economy tanking, it's just glorious to delight in the follies of women whose biggest fears reside in how to navigate successfully the tenuous Atlanta social terrain and whose lifestyles are not likely to be radically affected by any market downturn.
Although my blog readership is principally limited to the few close friends and family members who take a moment to view this site on occassion, I would like to extend a downhome dinner invitation to Bob Whitfield as a gentle reminder that all women are not as uptight, self-important and crazy as his ex-wife. May sound frightening to the affluent but I guarantee that the hubby and I can entertain him for less than $100. I also guarantee that man has an epic drama to share about life with Sheree and I want to hear it!
Enquiring minds want to know. I wanna know!
Although my blog readership is principally limited to the few close friends and family members who take a moment to view this site on occassion, I would like to extend a downhome dinner invitation to Bob Whitfield as a gentle reminder that all women are not as uptight, self-important and crazy as his ex-wife. May sound frightening to the affluent but I guarantee that the hubby and I can entertain him for less than $100. I also guarantee that man has an epic drama to share about life with Sheree and I want to hear it!
Enquiring minds want to know. I wanna know!
Thursday, October 16, 2008
Joe the Plumber
Dick, Paul and Warren
And Biden, too
General Jim Jones joins the crew
Obama and the gang have so much fun
Working together, they get the job done
Can we fix it?
Joe the Plumber
Yes we can!
(My apologies to those of you with young lads out there who now have the Bob the Builder theme song stuck in your heads.)
Wednesday, October 15, 2008
Kid Riffs
On the way to VA, we stopped at a gas station in PA. As the pump did its thing, the hubby began to wash the windows.
Son #2: Hey, look at that guy cleaning our windshield. We should bring him to the wedding with us.
Son #1: That's not just some guy . . . that's our driver.
Not sure at what age they began riffing off one another but, at ages six and eight, it's definitely taken a turn for the professional. Maybe it's due to the fact that they watched a million episodes of The Simpsons on the way down along with Monty Python and the Holy Grail.
As a result, there was a lot of galloping during the wedding reception and myriad "what is the air-speed velocity of an unladen swallow?" questions.
Sure beats the Teletubbies years.
Son #2: Hey, look at that guy cleaning our windshield. We should bring him to the wedding with us.
Son #1: That's not just some guy . . . that's our driver.
Not sure at what age they began riffing off one another but, at ages six and eight, it's definitely taken a turn for the professional. Maybe it's due to the fact that they watched a million episodes of The Simpsons on the way down along with Monty Python and the Holy Grail.
As a result, there was a lot of galloping during the wedding reception and myriad "what is the air-speed velocity of an unladen swallow?" questions.
Sure beats the Teletubbies years.
Tuesday, October 14, 2008
Alex y Kim
Just celebrated the wedding of two awesome friends in Northern VA hunt country. Gorgeous weather. Sunny. Warm. Cloudless. Perfect.
The house where they were married sits atop a large hill overlooking ponds, fields, cattle and rolling hills in the distance.
I had the honor of leading the ceremony and tried my hardest not to cry. But I cried.
So much for my gazillion dollar make-up job from a talented man who did all the make-up for Sabado Gigante for a decade. With credentials like that, you would think I would have blazing red lips and over-the-top color. Nope. He refused to put blush on me, after caking my skin with primer (his term), he said the natural red of my cheeks would come out. No such luck. Thankfully, that day was NOT about me!
I'm very, very happy for them. They have a beautiful relationship and started their marriage with a flawless day. Definitely an auspicious beginning.
The house where they were married sits atop a large hill overlooking ponds, fields, cattle and rolling hills in the distance.
I had the honor of leading the ceremony and tried my hardest not to cry. But I cried.
So much for my gazillion dollar make-up job from a talented man who did all the make-up for Sabado Gigante for a decade. With credentials like that, you would think I would have blazing red lips and over-the-top color. Nope. He refused to put blush on me, after caking my skin with primer (his term), he said the natural red of my cheeks would come out. No such luck. Thankfully, that day was NOT about me!
I'm very, very happy for them. They have a beautiful relationship and started their marriage with a flawless day. Definitely an auspicious beginning.
Wednesday, October 8, 2008
Zinger!
"Well, you know, Sen. McCain, in the last debate and today, again, suggested that I don't understand. It's true. There are some things I don't understand.
I don't understand how we ended up invading a country that had nothing to do with 9/11 . . ."
-----------------
Funny!
Monday, October 6, 2008
In God We Trust
In the sermon at church yesterday, our children's minister made the connection between the "fear" everyone is feeling during the current economic crisis (yes, Governor Palin, I was listening) and our collective inability to trust in the Lord completely.
"No one can serve two masters; for either he will hate the one and love the other, or he will be devoted to one and despise the other. You cannot serve God and wealth. For this reason I say to you, do not be worried about your life, as to what you will eat or what you will drink; nor for your body, as to what you will put on. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothing? Look at the birds of the air, that they do not sow, nor reap nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not worth much more than they?" (Matthew 6:24-26)
He went on to comment on how "In God We Trust" on our currency is more than just outdated lip service to our nation's motto (I'm paraphrasing but you get the point). It's a constant reminder that we need to put our faith in the Lord and, as a result, we'll be less anxious. In other words, no matter what happens, God's got our back.
"So do not worry about tomorrow; for tomorrow will care for itself."
This sermon came right on the heels -- pun intended -- of a week-long search for the perfect dress and shoes for my girlfriend Kim's wedding! Never mind the wallet when you can wear Calvin Klein's finest six-inch heels this side of the Bowery. (Note: These looked ridiculous so I put them on for a joke. Joke was on me; they're cute as can be. I'm just not sure I can walk.)
Never to be worn again unless the economy takes me to flophouse ruin? Then I'll be adequately prepared for the oldest profession in the world. Well, at least my feet will be . . .
"No one can serve two masters; for either he will hate the one and love the other, or he will be devoted to one and despise the other. You cannot serve God and wealth. For this reason I say to you, do not be worried about your life, as to what you will eat or what you will drink; nor for your body, as to what you will put on. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothing? Look at the birds of the air, that they do not sow, nor reap nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not worth much more than they?" (Matthew 6:24-26)
He went on to comment on how "In God We Trust" on our currency is more than just outdated lip service to our nation's motto (I'm paraphrasing but you get the point). It's a constant reminder that we need to put our faith in the Lord and, as a result, we'll be less anxious. In other words, no matter what happens, God's got our back.
"So do not worry about tomorrow; for tomorrow will care for itself."
This sermon came right on the heels -- pun intended -- of a week-long search for the perfect dress and shoes for my girlfriend Kim's wedding! Never mind the wallet when you can wear Calvin Klein's finest six-inch heels this side of the Bowery. (Note: These looked ridiculous so I put them on for a joke. Joke was on me; they're cute as can be. I'm just not sure I can walk.)
Never to be worn again unless the economy takes me to flophouse ruin? Then I'll be adequately prepared for the oldest profession in the world. Well, at least my feet will be . . .
Friday, October 3, 2008
Lost in the Supermarket
The folks at Trendwatching recently coined the word PERKONOMICS.
"A new breed of perks and privileges, added to brands’ regular offerings, is satisfying consumers’ ever-growing desire for novel forms of status and/or convenience, across all industries."
I love the concept in the signage above. In this case, a retailer can reward customers who behave in ways that is consistent with their brand -- even beyond the shopping experience.
When I was preggers with Son #1, for the first time ever, people began to offer me their seats on the subway and Metro North. Yep, right when the benefits of being knocked up kicked in, we moved to Northern VA. D'oh!
What I found there, however, was also pretty cool: signs in front of the best spaces in parking lots that said "Parking for Expectant Mothers." Hey, that's me! I was suffering from exhaustion and extreme cankles at the time and really appreciated the benefit (even if walking probably would have helped). Here, at the mega-Wegs in Pittsford, we have designated parking areas for parents shopping with small children. For a while there, I was loving that, too.
All of this has made me stop to think: are there ways (other than parking related) that my clients can offer non-traditional but brand-related perks to their customers? As Taco Bell reminds me, I need to start thinking outside the bun.
------------------------------------------------------------
On an unrelated note, did Wegmans just change their logo??
to 
I'll be darned. It's definitely an improvement. Clean, less dated and more legible. But it's not grabbing me yet. Wegmans strikes me as a progressive, customer-centric, employee-friendly company; whereas, this image seems to hearken back to a bygone era. It makes me want to don an apron, vintage dress and put my hair in a beehive updo. Mind you, after saying that I wanted to be Amy Sedaris yesterday, that isn't entirely a bad thing.
(Image from AdoreVintage.com)
Maybe I can pick up the fixins for some tuna casserole.
"A new breed of perks and privileges, added to brands’ regular offerings, is satisfying consumers’ ever-growing desire for novel forms of status and/or convenience, across all industries."
I love the concept in the signage above. In this case, a retailer can reward customers who behave in ways that is consistent with their brand -- even beyond the shopping experience.
When I was preggers with Son #1, for the first time ever, people began to offer me their seats on the subway and Metro North. Yep, right when the benefits of being knocked up kicked in, we moved to Northern VA. D'oh!
What I found there, however, was also pretty cool: signs in front of the best spaces in parking lots that said "Parking for Expectant Mothers." Hey, that's me! I was suffering from exhaustion and extreme cankles at the time and really appreciated the benefit (even if walking probably would have helped). Here, at the mega-Wegs in Pittsford, we have designated parking areas for parents shopping with small children. For a while there, I was loving that, too.
All of this has made me stop to think: are there ways (other than parking related) that my clients can offer non-traditional but brand-related perks to their customers? As Taco Bell reminds me, I need to start thinking outside the bun.
------------------------------------------------------------
On an unrelated note, did Wegmans just change their logo??
to 
I'll be darned. It's definitely an improvement. Clean, less dated and more legible. But it's not grabbing me yet. Wegmans strikes me as a progressive, customer-centric, employee-friendly company; whereas, this image seems to hearken back to a bygone era. It makes me want to don an apron, vintage dress and put my hair in a beehive updo. Mind you, after saying that I wanted to be Amy Sedaris yesterday, that isn't entirely a bad thing.
(Image from AdoreVintage.com)
Maybe I can pick up the fixins for some tuna casserole.
Thursday, October 2, 2008
Elegance and Rebellion
My girlfriend Kim is getting married in ten days. Cannot wait!
In the process of shopping for dresses -- wedding, rehearsal dinner, dancing, whatever -- she came across some gorgeous dresses from Nicole Miller. While Kim's taste runs much wilder than mine (she's younger and more hippie chick), I really like the professional dresses on the Nicole Miller site.
What's more, I appreciate the fact that her marketing team accurately captured the subtle nuance of her style.
In this world where everything seems to be shifting to ubiquitous mall store fashion (which can be a blessing in a city like ours where style is not a top priority), it's refreshing to see elegance that works.
In the process of shopping for dresses -- wedding, rehearsal dinner, dancing, whatever -- she came across some gorgeous dresses from Nicole Miller. While Kim's taste runs much wilder than mine (she's younger and more hippie chick), I really like the professional dresses on the Nicole Miller site.
What's more, I appreciate the fact that her marketing team accurately captured the subtle nuance of her style.
Nicole Miller uniquely combines the ideas of elegance and rebellion
to achieve a subtle sexiness that is the essence of modern femininity.
to achieve a subtle sexiness that is the essence of modern femininity.
In this world where everything seems to be shifting to ubiquitous mall store fashion (which can be a blessing in a city like ours where style is not a top priority), it's refreshing to see elegance that works.
Wednesday, October 1, 2008
Me Talk Pretty
My girlfriend took me to see David Sedaris at the Auditorium Theatre last night because her husband, who purchased the tickets, was called out of town on business (thanks John!). Since I had given Amy Sedaris' Hospitality Under the Influence cookbook to her for her b-day a few years ago, she knew how much I like the hilarity of the Sedaris family in general -- second only to the Cusacks. Whereas I want to marry John (Cusack that is) because he's hot AND I could then spend Christmas with Joan, I actually want to be Amy Sedaris. There's nothing better than dressing up and acting like a goofball (except getting paid for doing so); I just don't get to do it often enough. Maybe since the white trash bridal shower we threw for my girlfriend Mary many moons ago?
Anyhoo, I now wish I could be a talented writer like David -- yet his deadlines seem comparable to mine. He wakes up three hours before his car service arrives in the morning in order to get work done . . . not as relaxed as the romanticized life of a writer otherwise sounds.
Although he was standing and pretty darned funny, unlike Chris Rock, David Sedaris is not a stand-up comic per se. Instead he reads from his essays which are laden with dry humor and a shy sensitivity that comes even more to life with his spoken voice. He had the audience laughing throughout the show -- including some gaffawing. The best line of the night, which I cannot capture properly without the backstory and his comedic delivery, included a comparison for voters in the upcoming election between the chicken dish or human shit with glass.
Strangely, my favorite portion was the Q&A session at the end of his reading. It showcased that he is quick witted even when speaking off-the-cuff. The questions posed weren't intriguing at face value
(e.g., who's your favorite sibling and why?); however, his honest, thoughtful and droll answers made it more remarkable and interesting than his readings.
Oh and speaking of strange, David Sedaris continually plugged The Braindead Megaphone Essays by SU professor George Saunders. Not only was he selling this book alongside his in the lobby but he also said to the crowd, "I would buy his book before I would buy anything written by me."
With a recommendation like that, it has to be funny, no? Maybe I'll read it this weekend.
Anyhoo, I now wish I could be a talented writer like David -- yet his deadlines seem comparable to mine. He wakes up three hours before his car service arrives in the morning in order to get work done . . . not as relaxed as the romanticized life of a writer otherwise sounds.
Although he was standing and pretty darned funny, unlike Chris Rock, David Sedaris is not a stand-up comic per se. Instead he reads from his essays which are laden with dry humor and a shy sensitivity that comes even more to life with his spoken voice. He had the audience laughing throughout the show -- including some gaffawing. The best line of the night, which I cannot capture properly without the backstory and his comedic delivery, included a comparison for voters in the upcoming election between the chicken dish or human shit with glass.
Strangely, my favorite portion was the Q&A session at the end of his reading. It showcased that he is quick witted even when speaking off-the-cuff. The questions posed weren't intriguing at face value
(e.g., who's your favorite sibling and why?); however, his honest, thoughtful and droll answers made it more remarkable and interesting than his readings.
Oh and speaking of strange, David Sedaris continually plugged The Braindead Megaphone Essays by SU professor George Saunders. Not only was he selling this book alongside his in the lobby but he also said to the crowd, "I would buy his book before I would buy anything written by me."
With a recommendation like that, it has to be funny, no? Maybe I'll read it this weekend.
Saturday, September 27, 2008
Pack Rat
While sorting through an old box of stuff in the basement, I came across heaps of mementos including a photo of my mom on a date in the 50s in a frame that says, "Souvenir of Moroccan Village: The Gayest Spot in the Village" and "Slumming in Greenwich Village." Inside that frame was also the front page of The AMBAssador 25th Anniversary Issue (October 1953) which I'm guessing was the internal newsletter for employees of Alexanders. My mom was apparently an Alexanderite (posh name for a salesperson?) and was pictured with four other women alongside an article that states, "Alexanderites strutting proudly down the aisles of our two Bronx stores and at White Plains recently had ample reason for thrusting out their chests and boasting a bit." You go girl!
Speaking of strutting themselves, I also unearthed a picture of my dad circa 1945 with a bunch of other guys in the Navy all dressed up like (I think) girls? They're lifting their skirts (yes, you read that right) to show their boxers but also are wearing hats, garter belts on their thighs, and scarves around their necks. I'm thinking that they may have fit in better at Moroccan Village than on the U.S.S. Richmond. What happens at sea stays at sea?
In the pile, I found a bunch of my old concert tickets including the Who, the Stones, Rush, Santana, the Dead, the Lounge Lizards, Elvis Costello, UB40, Joe Jackson, Janes Addiction, Simple Minds, the Call, Tom Petty, Cheap Trick, the Plasmatics and more.
And I found a receipt from Marine Midland Bank dated March 16, 1983 where I ran into the Thompson Twins at the ATM and they all signed my bank balance ($311.68)! I also have an REO Speedwagon ticket signed by Gary Richrath and Kevin Cronin. Ah yes, you can tune a piano but you can't tuna fish.
My least favorite ticket? The Cars. I'll never forget them singing, "Can I bring you out in the light?" and flooding the War Memorial with stadium lighting. Unbelievable buzzkill. Worst ending to a concert ever. Not just what I needed.
Lastly, I found a copy of Playbill magazine circa 1984 in which Aaron Sorkin (an SU grad with whom we used to stay on our weekend trips to the city) wrote, "It was great sex! Come live with us." Aaron S. For whatever reason, his S looks more like a backwards dollar sign. (Note to mom: We didn't really have sex. It was his roommate who hit on me at the time but I feigned death. It worked.) In any event, Aaron was convinced that he would be famous one day and I believed him. Back then he was a talented writer living in a walk-up in Hell's Kitchen; now he's a talented gazillionaire living presumably in some heavenly mansion in California. Maybe I'll take him up on his offer now?!
Speaking of strutting themselves, I also unearthed a picture of my dad circa 1945 with a bunch of other guys in the Navy all dressed up like (I think) girls? They're lifting their skirts (yes, you read that right) to show their boxers but also are wearing hats, garter belts on their thighs, and scarves around their necks. I'm thinking that they may have fit in better at Moroccan Village than on the U.S.S. Richmond. What happens at sea stays at sea?
In the pile, I found a bunch of my old concert tickets including the Who, the Stones, Rush, Santana, the Dead, the Lounge Lizards, Elvis Costello, UB40, Joe Jackson, Janes Addiction, Simple Minds, the Call, Tom Petty, Cheap Trick, the Plasmatics and more.
And I found a receipt from Marine Midland Bank dated March 16, 1983 where I ran into the Thompson Twins at the ATM and they all signed my bank balance ($311.68)! I also have an REO Speedwagon ticket signed by Gary Richrath and Kevin Cronin. Ah yes, you can tune a piano but you can't tuna fish.
My least favorite ticket? The Cars. I'll never forget them singing, "Can I bring you out in the light?" and flooding the War Memorial with stadium lighting. Unbelievable buzzkill. Worst ending to a concert ever. Not just what I needed.
Lastly, I found a copy of Playbill magazine circa 1984 in which Aaron Sorkin (an SU grad with whom we used to stay on our weekend trips to the city) wrote, "It was great sex! Come live with us." Aaron S. For whatever reason, his S looks more like a backwards dollar sign. (Note to mom: We didn't really have sex. It was his roommate who hit on me at the time but I feigned death. It worked.) In any event, Aaron was convinced that he would be famous one day and I believed him. Back then he was a talented writer living in a walk-up in Hell's Kitchen; now he's a talented gazillionaire living presumably in some heavenly mansion in California. Maybe I'll take him up on his offer now?!
Friday, September 26, 2008
Image Matters
I've been interviewing senior-level marketing candidates for a position on the leadership team of a local firm. This individual will report directly into the President/CEO and will be responsible for guiding the organization's strategy and marketplace presence.
One candidate, who we liked immensely, sent gorgeous cards to both the CEO and me. Beautiful, gold embossed cards inside of which she inserted a nondescript, poorly written, two sentence, typed note on a scrap of paper that was literally ripped (i.e., not nicely cut) from a piece of white copier paper.
No time like the present to conserve paper. And time. It wasn't even personalized to us, the job or the company.
If we hired her, can we expect the Marketing Plan to be written in crayon?
One candidate, who we liked immensely, sent gorgeous cards to both the CEO and me. Beautiful, gold embossed cards inside of which she inserted a nondescript, poorly written, two sentence, typed note on a scrap of paper that was literally ripped (i.e., not nicely cut) from a piece of white copier paper.
No time like the present to conserve paper. And time. It wasn't even personalized to us, the job or the company.
If we hired her, can we expect the Marketing Plan to be written in crayon?
Thursday, September 25, 2008
I Found My Thrill
I just trolled a bunch of beer review sites (e.g., Beer Advocate, Rate Beer, The Brew Club) where I discovered that I may be the only person on the planet who likes Anheuser-Busch's Wild Blue blueberry lager.
(Image from JustBeer a fun little beer blog.)
Maybe because I don't normally drink beer? And I love Kool-Aid? Or perhaps my sudden attraction to (necessity for) Hall's cough drops and NyQuil are tainting my view.
Anything that's brightly colored with purple foam can't be bad . . . not to mention the antioxidants.
(Image from JustBeer a fun little beer blog.)
Maybe because I don't normally drink beer? And I love Kool-Aid? Or perhaps my sudden attraction to (necessity for) Hall's cough drops and NyQuil are tainting my view.
Anything that's brightly colored with purple foam can't be bad . . . not to mention the antioxidants.
Wednesday, September 24, 2008
Perlo on Furlough
Okay, so I'm not trying to get into the business of restaurant reviews but my boss and I took some high-profile clients to a much touted Perlo's last night and -- oh, how do you say -- never again?!
When you're across the street from one of the city's best Italian restaurants, your decor is suboptimal and your food only marginally better, shouldn't customer service be your strength? Otherwise, how do you differentiate yourself (in a positive fashion)?
With six people ordering appetizers, soups and full meals, shouldn't one person be "allowed" to order a smaller (i.e., children's) portion of the ravioli, if so desired? Doesn't the customer come first? Our waitress not only said "no" but also checked with the owner who also said "no dice." Our client didn't order a meal at all. Somehow that's better than
a) pleasing the customer and b) generating more revenue?
Did I mention someone in the restaurant was smoking?
What's Italian for "ass backwards": Ã sino al contrario?
Ciao.
When you're across the street from one of the city's best Italian restaurants, your decor is suboptimal and your food only marginally better, shouldn't customer service be your strength? Otherwise, how do you differentiate yourself (in a positive fashion)?
With six people ordering appetizers, soups and full meals, shouldn't one person be "allowed" to order a smaller (i.e., children's) portion of the ravioli, if so desired? Doesn't the customer come first? Our waitress not only said "no" but also checked with the owner who also said "no dice." Our client didn't order a meal at all. Somehow that's better than
a) pleasing the customer and b) generating more revenue?
Did I mention someone in the restaurant was smoking?
What's Italian for "ass backwards": Ã sino al contrario?
Ciao.
Monday, September 22, 2008
Friday, September 19, 2008
Dinosaur Jr.
Met some Simon school friends for barbecue ribs at the Dinosaur last night. It was sooooooooo good. Sooooooo good. Sooooooooo good. Loved the Drunken Spicy Shrimp Boil the most. And I really enjoyed my flight of beers -- a little strange since I don't even like beer. My favorite: The Arrogant Bastard.
When I just clicked through their site, I happened to notice their tagline (of course).
"You're Not Worthy."
Classic! (Although it shouldn't take a multi-million dollar ad agency to tell you that you don't need quotes around your tag; just a quick gander at other taglines or a dogeared copy of Strunk & White.)
When I just clicked through their site, I happened to notice their tagline (of course).
"You're Not Worthy."
Classic! (Although it shouldn't take a multi-million dollar ad agency to tell you that you don't need quotes around your tag; just a quick gander at other taglines or a dogeared copy of Strunk & White.)
Thursday, September 18, 2008
Your Vote Counts
Apparently Obama went from a 70:30 favorite a few weeks ago to dead even in the Intrade prediction markets. This is likely more credible than my qualitative analysis with supplemental Facebook statistics. D'oh!
In tribute to the woman, the myth, the legend (and since a Sarah Palindrome is boring), I thought I would give you some Sarahnagrams instead.
HA IRAN SLAP
AH LIAR SNAP
And my favorite: I A RASH PLAN
In tribute to the woman, the myth, the legend (and since a Sarah Palindrome is boring), I thought I would give you some Sarahnagrams instead.
HA IRAN SLAP
AH LIAR SNAP
And my favorite: I A RASH PLAN
Wednesday, September 17, 2008
McCain v. Obama
Here's to me stepping, once again, into territory where I don't belong and my economist brother piping in with details regarding where my logic is flawed! (Bring it on.) But really, who's going to win?
Today's polls show the candidates neck-in-neck: 47% McCain v. 46% Obama. ABC.com boasts myriad conflicting articles as I type, "Public still doubts Palin's readiness," "White women shift to McCain," and "George Stephanopoulos examines how Sarah Palin has boosted McCain's campaign."
A lot of my friends/neighbors are split. My Obama-oriented friends are filled with passion and outrage. They send missives all day long. My McCain-favoring friends are quietly smug. They somehow don't need to fight for their cause; it's a given. Perhaps mere mortal words cannot state their case effectively.
If I turn to my trusty Facebook, the "One Million Strong for Barack" group has 707,941 members and "Barack Obama (politician) has 1,855,105 supporters; whereas, the "1,000,000 Strong for McCain/Palin" group has a scant 65,820 members and "John McCain (politician)" only has 337,872 supporters. Quite a contrast.
While I realize that Facebook is not a representative sample of the U.S. population, it is an interesting dynamic. I think the numbers may actually support the key finding of my random qualitative survey of friends and neighbors: one segment vehemently supports its candidate and the other segment appears to be simply accepting its candidate to a moderate degree.
I wonder how the passion (or lack thereof) will manifest itself in driving people to the voting booths come November. If you want me, you can find me left of center off of the strip.
Today's polls show the candidates neck-in-neck: 47% McCain v. 46% Obama. ABC.com boasts myriad conflicting articles as I type, "Public still doubts Palin's readiness," "White women shift to McCain," and "George Stephanopoulos examines how Sarah Palin has boosted McCain's campaign."
A lot of my friends/neighbors are split. My Obama-oriented friends are filled with passion and outrage. They send missives all day long. My McCain-favoring friends are quietly smug. They somehow don't need to fight for their cause; it's a given. Perhaps mere mortal words cannot state their case effectively.
If I turn to my trusty Facebook, the "One Million Strong for Barack" group has 707,941 members and "Barack Obama (politician) has 1,855,105 supporters; whereas, the "1,000,000 Strong for McCain/Palin" group has a scant 65,820 members and "John McCain (politician)" only has 337,872 supporters. Quite a contrast.
While I realize that Facebook is not a representative sample of the U.S. population, it is an interesting dynamic. I think the numbers may actually support the key finding of my random qualitative survey of friends and neighbors: one segment vehemently supports its candidate and the other segment appears to be simply accepting its candidate to a moderate degree.
I wonder how the passion (or lack thereof) will manifest itself in driving people to the voting booths come November. If you want me, you can find me left of center off of the strip.
Tuesday, September 16, 2008
Think or Swim
This morning I went to a different location than my regular gym. (And by "regular," I mean the gym that I stopped going to two years ago and recently re-signed due to excess flabbiness. Positive correlation?) This facility is closer to the client site where I currently spend my Tuesdays and it has a pool. A gorgeous, heated, well lit pool!
So I started my day by enjoying one of my absolutely favorite things to do. And I had the entire place to myself. I also had the sauna to myself afterward.
I think that's one key to enjoying life: having refreshing, vacation-like moments interspersed in the midst of the daily grind.
So I started my day by enjoying one of my absolutely favorite things to do. And I had the entire place to myself. I also had the sauna to myself afterward.
I think that's one key to enjoying life: having refreshing, vacation-like moments interspersed in the midst of the daily grind.
Monday, September 15, 2008
Can't Spell Bruegger's without Rue
I have to moan momentarily about being on a diet. Mainly because I want to eat . . .
Thank God for Weight Watchers which helps me to control my intake. By calculating my points for the day, I can better ensure I don't overeat. However, calculating my points after eating can be downright shocking.
Case in point:
Breakfast today = coffee, bagel and peanut butter
Lunch today = grapes and a La Yogurt probiotic, nonfat yogurt
Dinner today = none because I have no points remaining
Bruegger's sucks. More points in one whole wheat bagel than in a McDonald's Egg McMuffin. More points than two pieces of pepperoni pizza at Chuck E. Cheese. More points than chocolate ice cream at Haagen Dazs. I could have had chocolate raspberry cake at Starbucks instead.
Or almost four glasses of wine. Four.
Sure, wine has no protein but it would help me to forget that I'm STARVING.
Thank God for Weight Watchers which helps me to control my intake. By calculating my points for the day, I can better ensure I don't overeat. However, calculating my points after eating can be downright shocking.
Case in point:
Breakfast today = coffee, bagel and peanut butter
Lunch today = grapes and a La Yogurt probiotic, nonfat yogurt
Dinner today = none because I have no points remaining
Bruegger's sucks. More points in one whole wheat bagel than in a McDonald's Egg McMuffin. More points than two pieces of pepperoni pizza at Chuck E. Cheese. More points than chocolate ice cream at Haagen Dazs. I could have had chocolate raspberry cake at Starbucks instead.
Or almost four glasses of wine. Four.
Sure, wine has no protein but it would help me to forget that I'm STARVING.
My Bologna
Yesterday at noon, Son #2 desperately wanted to play.
Me: You need to eat some lunch.
Son #2: I'm not hungry. Can I go see if the W's can play?
(Lines repeated for a few minutes until I, per usual, caved in. Why force him to eat?)
Ten minutes later, Son #2 appears back home.
Son #2: Can I play Play Station?
Me: You really should eat some lunch.
Son #2: I just ate over at the W's.
Two seconds later, Mrs. W called: I just wanted to let you know that monkey came over for five minutes, ate lunch with us and then said, "I'm going home now."
Are processed bologna Lunchables at the neighbor's house really that enticing? Bizarre.
Me: You need to eat some lunch.
Son #2: I'm not hungry. Can I go see if the W's can play?
(Lines repeated for a few minutes until I, per usual, caved in. Why force him to eat?)
Ten minutes later, Son #2 appears back home.
Son #2: Can I play Play Station?
Me: You really should eat some lunch.
Son #2: I just ate over at the W's.
Two seconds later, Mrs. W called: I just wanted to let you know that monkey came over for five minutes, ate lunch with us and then said, "I'm going home now."
Are processed bologna Lunchables at the neighbor's house really that enticing? Bizarre.
Saturday, September 13, 2008
Raggedy Mama
Walking son #1 next door tonight for a sleepover as he carried his sleeping bag and Matchbox cars.
Me: "Did you bring a stuffed animal?"
Son #1: "Mama, I don't need to sleep with stuffed animals."
Me: "Just thought I'd ask."
Son #1: "But I would like to have a full-sized stuffed animal of you so I could snuggle all night and not want to come home in the middle of the night."
Damn that's cute.
Me: "Did you bring a stuffed animal?"
Son #1: "Mama, I don't need to sleep with stuffed animals."
Me: "Just thought I'd ask."
Son #1: "But I would like to have a full-sized stuffed animal of you so I could snuggle all night and not want to come home in the middle of the night."
Damn that's cute.
Friday, September 12, 2008
Self-Actualization
When asked to name the one person absent from her life that she missed the most, she responded, "The person I hoped I'd be by this point in my life."
I hear ya sister.
For this, and other true stories told in one sentence, head over to OneSentence.org. Pretty cool!
I hear ya sister.
For this, and other true stories told in one sentence, head over to OneSentence.org. Pretty cool!
Thursday, September 11, 2008
Good Luck
I went to Good Luck restaurant last night with the girls to celebrate Christine's birthday. One word: must go! Oh, did I say one word? I meant two. It's a large, open, industrial space in the old Fabrics and Findings warehouse at the Village Gate with a bit of a French country community ambiance thrown in.
Their tapas-like menu boasts "food to share" which makes the whole dining experience interactive and fun. The food was fresh, flavorful and light -- and it just kept coming. We shared two bottles of wine; the charcuterie plate; leeks with lump crab; shrimp, bean and goat cheese crostini; warm arugula with bleu cheese and roasted figs; and heaps of funny and/or tear-filled stories about our kids, jobs, lives, sex, faith, parents in nursing homes, etc.
But one of the best parts of our evening was our waiter: Storm. He was the most articulate and knowledgeable waiter I have ever had the pleasure of meeting not to mention likeable and funny. He had no fear of making solid recommendations and sharing with us what foods were locally sourced, how they are prepared and plated, what spices are used, and so on. (As a contrast, I often hear the "I don't know, I've never tried that" response to my inquiry which makes me cringe. Really? Because isn't knowing about the food your job?) I really hope he's compensated well because he's worth his weight in gold.
One more thing. Unlike Label 7 (a.k.a. Mustards) our local tapas-style eatery in the village, which has to-die-for rich, creamy, yummy foods and attractive space, this place was also packed to the gills but otherwise noiseless. At Label 7, you cannot hear your friends seated at your same table; at Good Luck, you cannot hear others at the table next to you. Although, last night, that would have come in handy as the man next to us unwrapped a dress for his birthday gift. Uh, what's with the frock mister?
Next time, I'm ordering one of their original cocktails. For the girl who never knows what drink to order and continually pesters bar staff to create something original, I cannot believe I didn't try the Johnny Walker black cat tea or the Knock on Wood (Appleton Estate Rhum, apricot brandy, lime and brown sugar). As Clarissa sang to Rudolph, "there's always tomorrow."
Their tapas-like menu boasts "food to share" which makes the whole dining experience interactive and fun. The food was fresh, flavorful and light -- and it just kept coming. We shared two bottles of wine; the charcuterie plate; leeks with lump crab; shrimp, bean and goat cheese crostini; warm arugula with bleu cheese and roasted figs; and heaps of funny and/or tear-filled stories about our kids, jobs, lives, sex, faith, parents in nursing homes, etc.
But one of the best parts of our evening was our waiter: Storm. He was the most articulate and knowledgeable waiter I have ever had the pleasure of meeting not to mention likeable and funny. He had no fear of making solid recommendations and sharing with us what foods were locally sourced, how they are prepared and plated, what spices are used, and so on. (As a contrast, I often hear the "I don't know, I've never tried that" response to my inquiry which makes me cringe. Really? Because isn't knowing about the food your job?) I really hope he's compensated well because he's worth his weight in gold.
One more thing. Unlike Label 7 (a.k.a. Mustards) our local tapas-style eatery in the village, which has to-die-for rich, creamy, yummy foods and attractive space, this place was also packed to the gills but otherwise noiseless. At Label 7, you cannot hear your friends seated at your same table; at Good Luck, you cannot hear others at the table next to you. Although, last night, that would have come in handy as the man next to us unwrapped a dress for his birthday gift. Uh, what's with the frock mister?
Next time, I'm ordering one of their original cocktails. For the girl who never knows what drink to order and continually pesters bar staff to create something original, I cannot believe I didn't try the Johnny Walker black cat tea or the Knock on Wood (Appleton Estate Rhum, apricot brandy, lime and brown sugar). As Clarissa sang to Rudolph, "there's always tomorrow."
Wednesday, September 10, 2008
Road to Nowhere
This Friday night, I have to stand in front of 300 people and speak at a fund raising event. This, alone, is making me extremely nervous. So much so that I have an eye twitch.
To make matters worse, I have to read something that I did not write. It's a heavy-handed bio for which I need to channel Charles Kerault. Or Charlton Heston as Moses parting the Red Sea. I'm more of a light-hearted quipper who is more comfortable one-on-one or with a small group of friends.
Yet, I recognize that this is not about me. It's an honor to have been asked to give this speech.
When I was first hired by Kodak in the late 80s, I didn't speak to anyone for months. Literally. In retrospect, I recognize that I have come a long way from my intense shyness. I used to get physically ill beginning new jobs; now I meet with new clients on a daily basis.
I guess it's all part of my path. I'm just not exactly sure where I'm going. Or why.
I'll gladly accept any and all prayers that I do justice to this piece that was written, I'm sure, with love. I just hope I don't trip myself up over the hokey Hallmark sentimentalism. It's not my strength.
To make matters worse, I have to read something that I did not write. It's a heavy-handed bio for which I need to channel Charles Kerault. Or Charlton Heston as Moses parting the Red Sea. I'm more of a light-hearted quipper who is more comfortable one-on-one or with a small group of friends.
Yet, I recognize that this is not about me. It's an honor to have been asked to give this speech.
When I was first hired by Kodak in the late 80s, I didn't speak to anyone for months. Literally. In retrospect, I recognize that I have come a long way from my intense shyness. I used to get physically ill beginning new jobs; now I meet with new clients on a daily basis.
I guess it's all part of my path. I'm just not exactly sure where I'm going. Or why.
I'll gladly accept any and all prayers that I do justice to this piece that was written, I'm sure, with love. I just hope I don't trip myself up over the hokey Hallmark sentimentalism. It's not my strength.
Monday, September 8, 2008
I Dare You to Vote for Me!
According to Political Calculations, it's time for me to "Fire up the spin machine, you're ready to kick off your campaign this week! It's time to start courting donations from lobbyists and to put underlings to work deciding what you believe!"
Actually, this site calculates my "qualifications" based not on my experience in office (or lack thereof) but rather on whether or not I've ever toured with a rock band which I have not -- yet. Oddly enough, it doesn't ask race, gender or whether or not I'm a total babe. It's also more focused on my current bio. Holding all values equal, I'm still qualified for office if I am married with two sexual partners vs. in a relationship with only one. Yee haw! As I said to my brother, this doesn't account for my millions of past affairs or the fact that I'm one step away from rehab next week. As long as I'm clean and perceived to be sober today, all's well.
Not to mention that I can strangle moose barehanded . . .
Actually, this site calculates my "qualifications" based not on my experience in office (or lack thereof) but rather on whether or not I've ever toured with a rock band which I have not -- yet. Oddly enough, it doesn't ask race, gender or whether or not I'm a total babe. It's also more focused on my current bio. Holding all values equal, I'm still qualified for office if I am married with two sexual partners vs. in a relationship with only one. Yee haw! As I said to my brother, this doesn't account for my millions of past affairs or the fact that I'm one step away from rehab next week. As long as I'm clean and perceived to be sober today, all's well.
Not to mention that I can strangle moose barehanded . . .
Friday, September 5, 2008
All Hail the Return of the Pant
Oh thank God! I can finally wear pants again. I was getting so darned sick of my pinafores.
Seriously, is it only in middle America where pants never went out of style or is someone in the Victoria's Secret advertising department smoking crack? Way to be in touch with your audience.
And is that silky blouse with puffy sleeves really the "most-wanted look inspired by the fall fashion shows"? If so, I'm glad to be living in the land of the lost. That outfit doesn't even look compelling on her and she's presumably a supermodel.
Somehow, I'd much rather be in this little number from J. Crew.
Seriously, is it only in middle America where pants never went out of style or is someone in the Victoria's Secret advertising department smoking crack? Way to be in touch with your audience.
And is that silky blouse with puffy sleeves really the "most-wanted look inspired by the fall fashion shows"? If so, I'm glad to be living in the land of the lost. That outfit doesn't even look compelling on her and she's presumably a supermodel.
Somehow, I'd much rather be in this little number from J. Crew.
Thursday, September 4, 2008
Subversive Cross Stitch
I think I just found just the thing to complement our family needlepoint sampler.
Really catches the eye.
Really catches the eye.
Wednesday, September 3, 2008
Back to School 2008
One kid is beyond excited for school; the other is filled with the dread of sitting idle. One kid cannot wait to make new friends; the other couldn't care less. One kid is anxious to play kickball during recess; the other wishes that school could be taught through video games where the kids compete against each other virtually and win prizes.
After two years bearing his of extreme boredom, I think his idea actually has merit.
For Labor Day weekend, I decided to spend as much time as possible being a kid again. I woke up on Saturday morning and played almost two hours of Guitar Hero III with Son #2 -- and he let me play whatever songs I wanted (e.g., Sonic Youth, Beasties, Dead Kennedys, Sex Pistols). He won every round.
All the kids in the neighborhood and I played in the dirt pit. I had mud all the way up my arms but I built a big volcano and then a tepee out of sticks. What talent!
Son #2 and I went for a bike ride and the following day we went go-carting and played miniature golf. On Monday we went swimming at my girlfriend Christine's house.
We had the neighbors over for Sangria on Saturday night, a fire pit on Sunday night and a neighborhood picnic, complete with the hubby's famous "green chicken" burritos, on Monday night.
No work. No work. No work.
I think I fully understand Son #1's position on school. "I'd rather just run around all day." Guess what? Me too.
After two years bearing his of extreme boredom, I think his idea actually has merit.
For Labor Day weekend, I decided to spend as much time as possible being a kid again. I woke up on Saturday morning and played almost two hours of Guitar Hero III with Son #2 -- and he let me play whatever songs I wanted (e.g., Sonic Youth, Beasties, Dead Kennedys, Sex Pistols). He won every round.
All the kids in the neighborhood and I played in the dirt pit. I had mud all the way up my arms but I built a big volcano and then a tepee out of sticks. What talent!
Son #2 and I went for a bike ride and the following day we went go-carting and played miniature golf. On Monday we went swimming at my girlfriend Christine's house.
We had the neighbors over for Sangria on Saturday night, a fire pit on Sunday night and a neighborhood picnic, complete with the hubby's famous "green chicken" burritos, on Monday night.
No work. No work. No work.
I think I fully understand Son #1's position on school. "I'd rather just run around all day." Guess what? Me too.
Friday, August 29, 2008
Racials Slurs and Expletives in Second Grade
Last night, after watching Serena Williams play in the US Open for a little while, I was putting the kids to bed. Son #1 asked me, "Mama, why do some people call black people the 'N word'?"
Me: Where on earth did you hear that word?
Son #1: Evan called a girl in our class a "F'ing N" last year and got sent to the Principal's office. (Names changed to protect the not-so-innocent.)
Me (shocked, horrified and somewhat speechless): That is not acceptable -- not funny, not to be taken lightly, not to ever come out of your mouth -- do you understand? We need to focus on loving everyone and embracing people's differences.
Son #1: Yeah, that's why I like the kids in my class so much: some are Asian or Indian.
Me: So why, with so many awesome friends, do you hang out with Evan so much?
Son #1: Well, he's really funny. Do you know how we met?
Me: In kindergarten?
Son #1: Yeah, we were supposed to be drawing and he asked me if I wanted him to draw a picture of his private parts. So I said, "yes" but I didn't know what private parts were. A few minutes later, Mrs. Fernandez was taking him to the Principal's office and I looked over to my left and saw his drawing. That's when I figured out what private parts were. When Mrs. Fernandez came back she told us that we're not allowed to draw private parts in school.
(Pause.)
Me: Life is all about the choices you make. You have a choice right now. You can either sink to his level if you keep hanging out with him or you can raise him up and let him know that there's a better world out there that doesn't include using bad words and drawing inappropriate pictures.
Son #1: We've already talked about that. We now have an agreement that he won't swear around me any more.
Me: Whoa. I'm impressed that you've already had that conversation!
Son #1: I had to. He got sent to the Principal's office every day last year for swearing and I thought maybe he should stop.
I felt like I had been sucker punched. I am sooooooooo glad that, for the first time in three years, these kids are finally in different classrooms. And, no, he can never sleep over at that kid's house even though he keeps asking. Never. Do his parents think this crap is funny? Are they saying these things, too, or just resigned to it after raising older boys? I have no idea.
You are known by the company you keep. And life is governed by the choices we make. How do you really teach that to a kid entering third grade?
Me: Where on earth did you hear that word?
Son #1: Evan called a girl in our class a "F'ing N" last year and got sent to the Principal's office. (Names changed to protect the not-so-innocent.)
Me (shocked, horrified and somewhat speechless): That is not acceptable -- not funny, not to be taken lightly, not to ever come out of your mouth -- do you understand? We need to focus on loving everyone and embracing people's differences.
Son #1: Yeah, that's why I like the kids in my class so much: some are Asian or Indian.
Me: So why, with so many awesome friends, do you hang out with Evan so much?
Son #1: Well, he's really funny. Do you know how we met?
Me: In kindergarten?
Son #1: Yeah, we were supposed to be drawing and he asked me if I wanted him to draw a picture of his private parts. So I said, "yes" but I didn't know what private parts were. A few minutes later, Mrs. Fernandez was taking him to the Principal's office and I looked over to my left and saw his drawing. That's when I figured out what private parts were. When Mrs. Fernandez came back she told us that we're not allowed to draw private parts in school.
(Pause.)
Me: Life is all about the choices you make. You have a choice right now. You can either sink to his level if you keep hanging out with him or you can raise him up and let him know that there's a better world out there that doesn't include using bad words and drawing inappropriate pictures.
Son #1: We've already talked about that. We now have an agreement that he won't swear around me any more.
Me: Whoa. I'm impressed that you've already had that conversation!
Son #1: I had to. He got sent to the Principal's office every day last year for swearing and I thought maybe he should stop.
I felt like I had been sucker punched. I am sooooooooo glad that, for the first time in three years, these kids are finally in different classrooms. And, no, he can never sleep over at that kid's house even though he keeps asking. Never. Do his parents think this crap is funny? Are they saying these things, too, or just resigned to it after raising older boys? I have no idea.
You are known by the company you keep. And life is governed by the choices we make. How do you really teach that to a kid entering third grade?
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