Just Waiting on a Friend

There's a girl standing on the corner of East and University with a handwritten sign asking for money. She's wearing jeans, Converse sneakers, a knee-length black raincoat, big black sunglasses and a cute little black and white polka dotted kerchief/doo-rag.

She reminds me of me somehow. Pre-suits. Pre-kids. Or maybe just the weekend version of myself (sans sign).

I want to pull over and ask her what happened in her life. Simply down on her luck? Drug addiction? MBA loans too much to handle? Former AIG employee?

I also wonder if her parents are alive. They would probably be heartbroken to see her. I'm heartbroken to see her.

Ship of Fools

Why does Amazon offer free super saver shipping only to delay said shipping indefinitely? The free shipping offer instills goodwill while the postponement negates it entirely.

Case in point: a hardcover cookbook ordered for the hubby's birthday. On his birthday, March 3, I offered an apology for his missing present. Today, March 29, upon viewing the order status and noting that it still hadn't shipped, he canceled the order. What's the point?

For Amazon, it's $58 in lost revenue today but even more in lost revenue longer term. It's so much easier to shop at the local B&N and use my discount card. Now to go to B&N and buy the latest book in John Illig's trilogy, Man in the Middle, for my brother-in-law.

You would think I'd learn.

Native New Yorkers Can Be So Aloof!

My mom's friends are trying to convince her to get on Facebook.

Me: Mom, I love you and you pretty much know everything there is to know about me but, if you sign up, I don't want you as my Facebook friend. It feels too weird.

Mom: I don't want you, or anyone, as my Facebook friend. If you have something to tell me, call me or send me an email.

Me: But it's fun to see what people are up to everyday.

Mom: And I should care . . . why?

Good question!

Mini-weekend: Day 9

Last night, during the evening of my latest mini-weekend, I went to a Passover Seder at my girlfriend's church. In preparation for Easter, it was a tangible remembrance of Jesus' last supper and a beautiful tie to Judaism.

I feel this way at my mom's Catholic church -- especially during candlelit penance services -- there's something so powerful and moving about taking part in a God-given ritual that has been observed for millennia. At times, especially during traditional hymns, I feel a strong connection with ancient peoples as if the time/space continuum all but disappeared. At a seder, this is compounded when listening to Hebrew both spoken and in song. It's like poetry to my ears.

But my new favorite word is "dayenu" which is loosely translated as "it would have been enough for us" or "it would have been sufficient."

I drove home last night thinking:
Had He simply loved me but allowed me to live in poverty, dayenu
Had He raised me in a comfortable, loving home but given me no talents, dayenu
Had He given me talents but no outlet, dayenu
Had He given me a menial job with no prospects, dayenu
Had He given me a challenging yet rewarding job but no friendships, dayenu
Had He given me heaps o' friends but no husband and children, dayenu
Had He given me an awesome family but terrible health, dayenu
Had He given me perfect health but no retirement funds, dayenu

I could go on and on. It's such a great reminder, especially when down in the dumps, that I have been blessed beyond measure. And, even if I feel some times like I'm a slave in Egypt, it's also nice to remember that God is a redeemer. Yet, instead of wandering through the desert for 40 years, I have to learn to trust Him.

Mrs. Laura David

So when you're continually slogging it out at work and dreaming of downsizing to a doublewide just to ease the financial tension, what normally would make me pause and laugh, today makes me insanely jealous.

This woman is seeking $54K a week in her divorce settlement. No, that's not a typo; that's her weekly expenditure. Expenses include $4,500 for her clothing allowance where presumably she's paying her personal tailor to design an entirely new wardrobe daily and sew it right onto her body -- how else could you possibly spend over $600/day on clothes?? Especially when you have a weekly dry cleaning bill of $650? So she must "recycle" some of her clothes. Or maybe she's dry cleaning her linens.

Which leads me to: how big are her closets?

I especially love the $8K per week in travel expenses because I can see how that would actually add up. Two homes in Switzerland, private jet, hangar, fuel, pilots, etc. It cannot be cheap. However, she spends in only one week roughly equivalent of how much we spend on our annual trip to a fun, kid-friendly resort. Damn!

Lastly, only $250 on her personal trainer? What's that, one hour? After spending $1,500 on meals and entertainment, she might want to step up the exercise a bit more, no? Mind you, she does look great. I think that $1K on weekly skincare is paying dividends.

Shoot me now: All of this is on top of the $36 million he's already given her.

I'll be thinking of her as I take out a home equity loan to repair my collapsing tract house. And I'll be tracking him down shortly thereafter. Doesn't he need a new woman who can live modestly on the paltry $36 million without asking for more?

The nerve of some people!

Lenten Sacrifice

My brother recently sent me to the site This is why you're fat which boasts the tagline "where dreams become heart attacks."

Too bad it's a Friday in Lent. I could really go for a loaf of ground Spam cubes with a Velveeta cheese center topped with a layer of hot Velveeta. Or the McGangBang: a McChicken sandwich inside a double cheeseburger. Mmmmmmmmmm.

For now, I'll have to pass on the Porkgasm and the Meat Cake. Maybe we can save the latter for my birthday.



Festive, right?

Beast of Burden

Matthew 11:25-30, "For my yoke is easy and my burden is light."

Like an ox that doesn't realize there is a stream at the end of the trail, I cannot see where God is leading me so I'm stubbornly holding myself in a bad place. And I am having a hard time remembering that God is carrying the yoke with (or rather for) me. I have to keep repeating that phrase from Matthew today to remind myself that life is only truly unbearable if I do not believe that God can refresh me, replenish my soul and lead me beside still waters.

Now to find a green pasture in which to lie down.

In Search of the Pot of Gold

Happy St. Patrick's Day!

I find it interesting that my kids cannot be taught religion in school yet they are encouraged to learn all about leprechauns.

I'm hoping they find one because we could use the money.

On this day in history, 1979 to be exact, my girlfriend Jan and I made green muffins in our home economics class. In a bizarre twist on this Irish holiday, we set out to make blueberry muffins but, unbeknown to us, you're not supposed to mix the berries in until the end because (chemist I'm not) the dough turns green. Blue berries + yellow dough = green fun.

I'm not sure if we baked any of our muffins. I do know that we took the dough, rolled it into fist-sized balls and threw them. All morning long. Jan threw the first green dough ball at the clock and it stuck there. We then proceeded to throw them at kids who would walk by in the hallway. The goo ball would whiz past, smack a locker and fuse there motionless. Kids would stop in their tracks, look at the thick, green glob that just missed them with a "what the . . . ?" expression and then look around to see where it came from.

It was hilarious. Best St. Patrick's Day ever.

I think I got my first (and only?) C in that class. But I still remember it vividly which is more than I can say for social studies that year.

The Yin and Yang of the Weekend

Somehow missed posting on mini-weekend day 7 (last Friday) which turned into a long weekend, instead. Nice! Gotta stay flexible for my boss and clients.

The long weekend ranged from calling hours to church, from biking to watching movies (Taking Chance with Kevin Bacon -- very moving), from hosting sleepovers to jumping on the neighbors' trampoline, from cleaning to getting my colors analyzed, from relaxing over delicious sushi with the kids at the Plum Garden to coercing them to finally take a friggin' shower. Engulfed in sadness at times. Bouncing as high as possible, and laughing my head off, mere hours later.

On the color front: I'm a dark autumn. Rich, deep colors. I can wear silver and gold. Together. And, unlike my "true summer" mom and sis, I can wear black. (Sorry Mommy Cash!) But, I cannot wear white or off-white. So I went through my closet, compared all of my clothes against my new color palette and put aside the clothes that reportedly are not best for me. This includes two lilac sweaters that I always get compliments on. So, do people simply like the color (and would make flattering remarks regardless of who is wearing it)? Or am I in black so much that they're just reacting to the fact that I'm wearing any color? Or is that a good color but a different shade would be even better? Or is the color consultant simply wrong? Only time, governed by a million and one new "Darling you look divine," comments will tell.

On the church front: I didn't realize the impact of taking my kids to a non-Catholic church all these years would have. As Grannie's car was being fixed due to a parking lot hit-and-run (which, by the by, happens to her gorgeous Lexus and not my rusty, 10-year-old Jetta: unfair), the kids and I decided to take her to her church instead of ours.

First question, asked loudly by Son #1 upon walking in, "What's that?" to which I responded, "Holy water." That was followed by a slew of related questions. I'm sure the devout Catholics around us were assuming we're the great unwashed. Next, while seated in the pew, "When are those bells going to stop? They're annoying me." That just happens to be one of my favorite sounds ever!

One kid was chewing gum. Neither would arise for the Catholic aerobics throughout the ceremony. I was continually peppered with "Is this almost over?" questions. I got two, rapid head jerks in my direction when the priest said, "ass" and I had to remind them that it also meant "donkey." One refused to take his arms out of his sleeves during the hand-holding, singing rendition of the Lord's Prayer. Both looked extremely perplexed during the Kiss of Peace. And, finally, one was dying for the bathroom but didn't know where it was -- so we ended up spawning against the tide during communion.

At the end, I asked, "So what did you think of Grannie's church?" and received the following reply, "Well, I wasn't listening but the stained glass windows are cool." Yes, they are.

Amen.

Office Porn

My boss (talking about one of our clients): I love him. If he wasn't happily married, I would run off with him.

Me: What about Joe? (Name changed to protect the innocent.) I thought he was the man!

My boss: Wow, him too! Did you see his gross margins?

What's Goin' On?

"I don't think of myself as a poor, deprived ghetto girl who made good. I think of myself as somebody who from an early age knew I was responsible for myself, and I had to make good."
(Quote from Oprah Winfrey)

What makes some people miserable with carte blanche to blame everything/everyone for their state while others take full ownership for their lives and their futures? What makes some clients jump on the "down economy" bandwagon to justify their company's declining revenues while others rally the troops?

To quote 4 Non Blondes:
And I pray, oh my God do I pray
I pray every single day
For a revolution

The Whole of the Moon

I was going to post about our fantabulous Saturday night at the Queen City Roller Girls but decided to give thanks today instead for all of my blessings (of which all-chick roller derbys are but one).

On the way to work, I heard a pastor on the radio say, "Being in a relationship with Christ isn't something you do; it's a present you are given. Every time you're in communion with God, you're on the receiving end of a divine miracle."

Mind blowing. Well, at least, to me. He's a huge God and yet he hangs out with little ole me. Very humbling and, stunningly, it makes my heart swoon.

I also read a beautiful Zen metaphor over the weekend. I want to become "like a dewdrop that reflects the entire moon."

Isn't that gorgeous?

Spring Fever!

New friends in the front garden. Yeaaaaaa!

Boulevard of Broken Dreams

Son #2 singing last night: Sometimes I wish some bear will find me, till then I walk alone.

Me: Did you just say bear? I think it's "someone out there will find me."

Son #2: Oh good! That's not nearly as scary.

Sign Sign Everywhere a Sign

I have two clients with very different signage adorning the parking spaces by their respective front doors:

• Client #1: "Our customers come first" (four spaces/identical signs)
  
  
• Client #2: "Parking reserved for the CEO" (three spaces/signs for Founder, CEO, President)
  

In one of the latter parking spaces, a giant black Cadillac Esplanade is parked. In the space next to it, a Mercedes.

Where would you rather work?

Unless everyone at client #2 is making heaps of money and is being treated exceptionally well, I think the signs signal, at the very least, a ridiculous, internal pecking order. I'm not sure I would want to put in the requisite hours in order to pad someone else's wallet especially if the effort comes with an extra dash of hubris.

Thanks but no thanks.

Sanibellisimo

TripAdvisor just posted my review of Sanibel Moorings. Thankfully, we've come a long way from my initial post of "Ay Carumba" (rating: one) for the Gran Caribe Real in Cancun as well as last summer's "OMG" (rating: two) for the HoJo off the thruway in PA on the way to the beach.

Now to hunker down and get to work.

Mini-weekend: Day 6

So much to do and not doing any of it -- thereby defeating the purpose of the mini-weekend?

Thankfully, I did go to my acupuncturist today. It's so relaxing, I could spend a week there. A few sessions ago she basically stated that my body was lacking energy across all vital functions. To quote Aerosmith, my get-up-and-go must have got up and went. Today, I was full of life again. Nothing like a great vacation and a mid-week day off to provide joie de vivre.

For lunch: Juan and Maria's Empanada Stop. I love a good hole-in-the-wall with freshly made comfort food. I ordered the beef and onion empanada with a side of rice, beans and pork. They're not "to die for" delicacies by any stretch of the imagination but rather a fun diversion from the winter doledrums. And their homemade sauces, like the Spicy Spanish Mayonnaise, are delicious. The best part is that Juan and Maria fawn over every customer. Juan was telling us about his expansion and franchising plans (i.e., start local but grow aggressively from the Monroe County core) and I couldn't help but wonder if the experience will be as warm and heartening if some random dude named Bob, who doesn't speak a lick of Espanol, is preparing and serving the dishes in a squeaky clean, satellite, mall location. When all is said and done, it's not wholly about the food. Time will tell.

Next: unpack my suitcase (as it's been four days since we returned) or read a magazine? I feel guilt descending.

Paul Ruddiculous

I love Paul Rudd. I like pretty much every character he plays from Josh on Clueless to Ethan the Drug Lord on Reno 911. He's cute yet funny. I've been told he's short. Do I care? And now there's this: Paul Rudd posing as Tom Ford (for Vanity Fair). Granted, it's hard not to look hot when you're the only man in a suit positioned next to a bunch of overweight guys in flesh-colored bodysuits. But still!



And now for Annie Leibovitz's original photo. Sure Keira Knightley is stunning but she's no match for Paul Rudd.

Attack of the Clones

The boys and I are back from a week in Sanibel with my mom and our "surprise" guests: all my siblings and their spouses. And one little baby boy. Very relaxed and carefree. No major family dramas. Just perfect weather, sunshine, warmth, swimming, lounging, eating and drinking.

Happy (insert age here) Grannie Annie!

While there, I was kicking myself that I had run out of room on my camera's memory card. I was deleting old photos one by one just to make room for more but quickly tired of it and simply stopped taking pictures.

When I got home, I went to download the pictures I had taken only to find seven million (plus or minus a 2% margin of error) pictures of Son #1's Lego Clone Troopers stored on my camera. He must have spent an entire night with my camera making a lengthy, stop motion video. So much for my parental oversight.

Memories below of my trip vs. his trip:



Those Clone Troopers are doing a fine job of protecting the snorkeling mask but I think I'd rather have more pictures of my awesome family and the beach. Did I say "more"? I meant "some." Oh well. I'm sure we'll do it again when Grannie turns 100 . . .

He was a Clone Trooper, camera snapper, yeah
It took me so long to find out, and I found out
Clone Trooper, yeah