I Just Gotta Be Me

I ran across this simple quote from Annie Dillard and it made me gasp:

How we spend our days is, of course, how we spend our lives.

Is this really how I want to spend my life?

I was speaking with a potential client last week and, at the end of our professional conversation which went extremely well, I shared a silly story with him. He politely stood up to leave and I was immediately stricken with self-doubt and loathing. I was asking myself on the drive home and well into the night, "Why did you have to add that last part?" or "Why can't you learn to keep your mouth shut?" WWSD? (Insert boss' name instead of Jesus.)

My boss and I talked about this scenario on our way home from another client in the Adirondacks late last night. She had a similar experience with him and felt much the same as I. A little comforting but it still begs the question: Am I living my life with integrity?

Am I being myself? Can I find a so-called career that better suits me? While I'm increasingly more comfortable in a stifling professional environment, I want more. Half the time, I feel like I'm pretending to be someone else.

I really do love my clients. I want them to succeed. I enjoy helping them.

But can't I do it with a hint of personality, too? Or is that unacceptable?

I just want to dance.

The New Food Pyramid

When I was little, we were allowed to pick out one box of sugar cereal as a big treat on our birthdays. Meanwhile, my mom (the nutritionist) stashed Hershey’s kisses in her bedroom. I didn’t find out for years.

My dad, on the other hand, would buy Ho Hos for us at the grocery store and attempt to hide them so my mom wouldn’t find out.

With her grandkids, the rules have become much more relaxed.

A few weeks ago, “Did you know that Grannie lets us drink Coke for breakfast?”

Breakfast at Grannie’s home this past Saturday morning: bacon, ice cream and Skittles.

Can’t be any worse than PopTarts at our house – just more fun. Now if they can just convince her to invest in the $400 Wii Fit, they’ll never want to come home.

Hence the threatening note to Grannie from Son #2, “By a Wii or elese” (sic).

Today's tactics seem much more menacing than they were when I was younger, no? We employed more guilt during negotiations than fear. We utilized the explicit, "If you loved me, you would buy me a pony" comment or its implied lack-of-love equivalent, "All of my friends are allowed to have phones in their rooms."

So far, none of these approaches appears to work. I'm just grateful that my mom continues to love and take care of them even though their parents apparently haven't taught them any manners . . .

Yes Sway

If you're looking for a beach read that's business-related (really, and who isn't?), I just finished Sway: The Irresistable Pull of Irrational Behavior by Ori and Rom Brafman. Loved it.

It's an interesting, smart, thought-provoking, page turner filled with research-backed stories that explain how and why, among other things, well educated doctors can send a child home to die, seasoned pilots can cause deadly air disasters, otherwise intelligent students at Harvard would pay over $200 for a twenty dollar bill, the University of Florida Gators rose to the top, etc.

In the midst of the compelling behavioral anecdotes are a number of "lessons learned" that can easily be applied to our day-to-day lives when making pricing decisions, communicating with clients, developing incentive programs, and so on.

And I now know how to effectively get men to call me. Where was this book twenty years ago?!

Crystal Light

Today marks our 15th year of marriage which, the hubby claims, is the "Styrofoam anniversary."

Not trusting his sage advice, I just looked it up and apparently we should be celebrating with crystal gifts for one another. With our house in constant disarray, Legos painfully found in my shoes last night and a bulimic cat leaving treasures underfoot, somehow crystal doesn't seem right for us -- regardless of the year.

I personally think this should be the "Molly Maid anniversary."

'Tis a Magic Place

Son #2: "Look at this picture of Stonehenge. Wouldn't it be great to go there?"

Me: "I've actually been to Stonehenge."

Son #2: "REALLY?? What band did you see?"

Should I be thanking Guitar Hero or Nigel Tufnel for my child's tunnel vision of this world famous, prehistoric monument?

The Weekend's Too Short

Our long weekend at the beach was much too short. More on that later.

The drive, on the other hand, was waaaay too long. Due to construction in the Poconos (in two separate places), traffic was reduced to one lane and merging was a long, drawn out, slow motion hell. And, unbeknownst to us, traffic was also congested due to the fact that it was Nascar race weekend. Yippee.

Lucky for us, we had two kids in the car -- one of whom was hungry. "I want a cheeseburger." "When are we stopping for a cheeseburger?" "Are we there yet?"

So we had the pleasure of stopping for the night at a lovely Howard Johnson's in Bartonsville PA. I wrote a one word review on TripAdvisor that hasn't yet been posted: "Ew." However, in the process of contributing, I happened to notice that many others who stayed at that hotel had experienced car break-ins and stolen items. (Except for one reviewer who writes, "Truly a wonderful place to stay. Clean, upscale, great service. The restaurant is very romantic . . . " Huh? And by romantic, do you mean dimly lit?) Just feeling grateful that all of our stuff is still with us.

But my favorite part of traveling to the beach was our brief visit to Dunkin' Donuts (a.k.a. Stinkin' Donuts) the following morning when the woman standing beside us in line had either fallen asleep the night before in a vat of raw sewage or she possibly had a festering wound on her (insert unnamed body part here) that needed some critical attention. America certainly does Run on Dunkin' cause I cannot imagine what else is keeping that woman alive.

Am I grateful to have spent some time with my girlfriends and their families? Yes. Was it nice to spend a weekend with the hubby and kids? You betcha. Am I happy to have had a lone walk along the beach where a perfectly formed sand dollar washed up right on my toes? Very much so. Do I want to do it again any time soon? Not so much.

The Beach!

Finally, the weekend is upon us! Driving to Long Island to meet up with my girlfriends and families -- yes, the trip I had to cancel at the last minute last year has resurfaced. Yea!

I just looked at pictures from two years ago to get even more excited.

Eating watermelon:


Playing soccer on the croquet lawn after an aborted tournament:


Cannot wait another second.

Given that today is my "day off," I just said to my coworker, Scott, who is conducting some research for me, "I'm going to grab everything you've done on my way out the door at 1:00 p.m."

He responded, "Sounds great. Way to get away from it all."