Snow

Snow is
like one million
meteors that strike
the earth gently

Written by son #1 on the bus home on Friday and translated onto a snowflake that he drew and cut out of white paper.

My Little Capuchin

I now have another nickname for my little monkey: capuchin (which apparently is a type of monkey found in Brazil, who knew?).

And I've donated 20 grains of rice to the United Nations to help end world hunger by getting that word right -- by sheer luck, I may add. All in all, I've spent just a few minutes at Free Rice testing my vocabulary skills and/or luck and in the process have donated, thus far, 480 grains of rice.

Alas, my donation doesn't quite cover the bottom of a single bowl but the game is fun and addicting with humanitarian incentives to continue playing. There goes the weekend!

One Night in Bangkok & the World's Your Oyster

I know my kid is getting older when, at 7 1/2, he's almost as tall as I am (reaching my collarbone) and can do a number of things much better than I -- like playing video games and kicking my butt in chess.

Which brings me to the cutest thing ever: his first chess tournament this weekend!

That Simpson's chess set that my girlfriend gave to us years ago is paying dividends. Bangkok here we come.

Bangkok, Oriental setting
And the city don't know that the city is getting
The creme de la creme of the chess world in a
Show with everything but Yul Brynner.

Right Wing Morphing?

At some point last year on my drive home from work, I was listening to Pastor's Perspective, a Christian radio show, when a female listener called in and stated that her ex-boyfriend -- with whom she had remained good friends -- was getting married. She not only thought that attending the ceremony was inappropriate but she also felt that she should honor his marriage by cutting all ties. She was asking for feedback.

The pastor not only agreed with her but went on to state that men and women who are married to others should not even lunch together . . .

I was shocked and felt the answer was extreme. Not only do I have the occasional meeting with a male client in a public place, I have guy friends from childhood, high school, college, grad school and various jobs who I still see from time-to-time. Not as much as I would like but life is busy. Rarely, however, does the hubby join us mainly because he doesn't want to hear a bunch of reminiscing about a time when he wasn't present.

And my friendships aren't limited to cocktails, dinner or lunch. I have gone skiing in Colorado for a week with some of the guys I went to college with and just last year drove to Maine for a wedding with my friend Kevin who lives in Syracuse. Plain and simple fact: It was fun to spend time together and sad that it took a wedding to get us together given that we live an hour from one another. That's life.

My hubby also has female friends who he visits or goes to the movies with. I have no concerns.

But I do continue to ponder that advice. Initially I thought, "Well that's goofy. If it's completely innocent and all parties are trustworthy, what's the issue?" but as I continue to think long and hard, I'm now beginning to ask myself, "Do I really need to see my guy friends one-on-one?"

The logical answer is "yes" because the hubby doesn't want to come along and would be miserable if forced. And we would have to get a sitter to watch the kids or enlist my mom's help. And the fact is that 99.9999% of the time, I've never been hit on. But every once in a while, I get a random comment that I either choose to ignore or laugh off -- and one recent email from a close friend who I grew up with (who I like immensely) that I had to address head-on. As a result, I started asking myself, "Am I unnecessarily putting myself in compromising situations?"

Certainly there's something we can all do together (e.g., dinner with spouses and kids) that doesn't involve talking about the past. There are plenty of current topics that are much more interesting. But that assumes the guys are married; a few are not. Then what? Get a group together to go out? Sounds reasonable to me.

Egads, maybe I'm just becoming ultraconservative. The bottom line is: How can I honor my marriage without negating the friendships that I value?

As Sonic Youth says, "I just want you to know that we can still be friends."

Just in a group.

Ho Hos Are Society's Best Friend!

Finally some good news!

According to a study reported in today's Chicago Tribune, it costs the government more to care for healthy people who live years longer. The long-term cost to care for smokers is $326K, obese people is $371K, and thin/healthy people is $417K.

It goes on to say that the study did not take into account other potential costs of obesity and smoking, such as lost economic productivity or social costs, blah blah blah . . .

No analysis paralysis here: I know exactly what I need to play my part in reducing the burden to society. Just when I was inching back toward 115 lbs., I get the green light to course correct.

Slim-Fast be gone! Hello Sweet Potato Hoe Cakes.

I Spy a Harried Housewife

When a first grade boy brings home an assignment to find 100 themed items and glue/paste them to a legal size sheet of construction paper, who does the teacher honestly believe is doing it? Especially when during the parent/teacher conference some concern was voiced over that same kid's lack of mastery over the scissors. (As my boss quipped, "Why do they stress? I've never known anyone to graduate from high school who hadn't yet learned how to cut with scissors.")

I spent the better part of Saturday with son #2 surrounded by copies of Saveur and Natural Health magazines cutting out pictures of roast turkeys, pies, bon bons, apples, shish kabobs, organic grains, wax lips and so on.

We then had to write three, four-line "I spy" rhymes to share with the class so they could find some of the skillfully hidden cut-out items.

I spy a mom and son
sitting on the floor
cutting pics all afternoon
until their hands were sore

All complaining aside, I think I would make a pretty good first grader. Especially if I could hang out with my little monkey all day long.

London Calling

I dreamed last night that I was in an apartment in London throwing on clothes. I was late for a professional meeting and still wearing my bathing suit. Once dressed, I stepped in my private jet with my girlfriend Meg to fly home. It was a wild, freewheeling flight and I had to relax and trust that all would be well. As we flew over Giant stadium (which was a glorious bright green) and then over two large hotels outside of NYC, I stated to some man who was next to me, "I would like to buy one of those hotels. Would you see if either is on the market and what they're asking?"

I then turned to Meg and said, "If you asked me before, I would have told you that I didn't need much money to live well -- but now that I have it, I realize how easily it is to fall into comfort. Before, I would never have bought a $500 bra but now that I know that it feels like butter, I wouldn't dream of anything less." I added that having my own plane made it easier to come home often and I loved that I could see my mom whenever I wanted. She agreed.

Then this morning (sadly back to reality), I was on the phone with my mom and she asked, "Did you just say something about London?" Uh no
. . . but I'm willing to entertain any thread of insanity that will take me back to that luxurious life I was leading a few hours ago.