I was working along, yesterday, quite happily. Mondays are always excellent work days---I've had just enough family togetherness to make those hours after everyone's left the house feel serene and calm and full of possibility. I'm incredibly productive on Mondays. (It falls off during the week. By Friday? I'm useless.) It has become my habit to do several hours of work in the morning before showering. If I'm going to be completely honest, I guess the truth is that I often work until lunchtime, then take a break to eat and shower and, you know, get dressed. Until then, I'm just here on my...
"Oh, it must be awesome being married to a photographer!" I hear, over and over. Yes. Completely awesome. Especially in light of how I hate having my picture taken. I'm not complaining about him, you understand, but sometimes I do wonder how blind love must be for me to have done that. [A common scene in our house: Otto, trying to take my picture. Me, hiding behind things, wrapping my arms around my head, or just pulling a monstrous face. Otto eventually throwing up his hands in disgust while asking, "WHY DID YOU MARRY ME?" Me, running away, calling over my shoulder, "You're cute and I...
Remember Love Thursday? I was thinking the other day that I sort of miss it. And then some fine ladies brought it back, because Love Thursday will not be denied, man. It's a powerful force that will not just go away. Let's face it---in a world where the news is topped by supposed adult politicians bickering like children, famous actors overdosing, and any other number of tragedies, I dunno about YOU, but I could certainly use a little more Love Thursday. Just sayin'. So I started thinking about it, and first I thought that love is my husband saying that yes, sure, let's have a dozen small...
I have often said that one of the advantages of having a (mostly) not-very-good and then a (towards the end) wholly-fucked-up marriage, the first time around, is that---despite being rather high-maintenance in general (shut up)---I am so profoundly grateful for everything Otto and I have, I'm really quite easy to keep happy on the marital front. Why yes, I DID just say he's SO LUCKY to have me. And I am happier, and probably healthier, as a result. Which is probably the reason why a very pretty reader of mine thought of me when she got this little assignment for a tiny little magazine, and...
Every piece of family advice I've ever read (all two of them) suggests that bedtime is the right place to reconnect with your loved ones. Everyone's a little sleepy and has maybe let their guard down, and no matter how the day went, this is your final note to be held onto until you can start all over again in the morning. Lord knows I TRY to make bedtime harmonious around here, but often it's late and the kids are screwing around and my patience is done and the whole thing is a hurried, cranky affair. And don't even get me started on my and Otto's bedtime. I'm one of those people whose mind...
Yesterday was a whirlwind of travel, putting us at one friend's house for the afternoon, then shuffling off to another friend's house for the night. I guess Otto hadn't been entirely clear with this group of pals as to when we'd be where, so although they were delighted to have us (and OH MY GOD I had the best meal of my LIFE last night; I am thinking of asking his friends to come move in with us, because: EMERIL'S POTATO CASSEROLE), the hosts who were keeping us for the night hadn't actually made up the guest bed yet. So we'd watched the first half of the Patriots game at the first house...
In the same kitchen where two small children are playing Connect Four with wild abandon (and seeming obliviousness to the fact that this was a really cool toy when WE were kids), there are four adults. Between the grown-ups, there are three computers, two cell phones, and a video camera in use. All at the same time.
Did I mention that I have a cold? Because I do. I think I'm dying. It is very sad. I will miss me. (Do you hear them? In the background? Those are teeny tiny violins, playing beautiful music in honor of my sore throat and reversion to 5-year-old maturity level when my nose is stuffy.) Oh, FINE. I suppose I'm PROBABLY not actually dying. In fact, I'm that sort of really unsatisfying sick where you just feel crummy and gross, but deep in your mucous-covered heart you know that without a fever or whatever you really just have a cold and should suck it up. Of course, I'm sick because I have a...
Last night as Otto and I lay in bed talking, I knew today would be a special day. What I did NOT know, at that point, was that it would start with me finding a small waterfall underneath my sink. That was... rather more special than I had anticipated. (And by "more special" I mean "especially sucktastic.") Nevertheless, that faucet has leaked (the actual faucet part, not the pipes) ever since we moved in, and I have been ignoring it, and I guess at some point last night it just snapped and went all Glenn Close on me ("I'm not going to be IGNORED, MIR!") and this is what I deserve. Yes. I...
