The one where I realize: I’m happy
Joshilyn arrived yesterday afternoon with Sam and Maisy in tow, and Monkey and Sam were LITERALLY engrossed in a discussion of the finer points of various Pokemon beasties before the door had even shut behind them. For a couple of glorious hours, Joss and I got to sit and relax and chat while Chickadee dressed Maisy in a variety of her outgrown clothing and generally led her around like a wee and precious pet lamb, and the boys bounced off the walls upstairs (where we could hear them but not be overly disturbed by them).
I dished up dinner earlyish (Chris’ most excellent chicken curry with sweet potatoes and coconut rice, which if you have not tried you must go make RIGHT NOW because it is THAT GOOD) and the children regaled us with riddles as we ate, then we left the children and their pajamas and a movie with a sitter, and headed out to Borders.
Joss gave a great appearance, as usual, and as usual I had to restrain from blurting out to anyone I saw there, “She’s my friend! Isn’t she awesome?” Heh. read more…
Imagine your picture here
My lawyer is very, very good at what he does, and a nice guy, to boot. He knows law. He knows tradition. What he doesn’t hand off to his secretary he types with two fingers, and he had exactly no idea of what a blog was until I had to explain to him what I do for a living.
“So, you write about your life for anyone to read?” he asked, hand pausing in mid-air over his legal pad.
“Yeah, pretty much,” I admitted.
I don’t think he really understood that. Heck, some days I’m not sure I really understand it. But most of the time I assume that people come here for humor, and most of the time I try to deliver. And even after four years, I continue to be completely blown away by my readers’ warmth and compassion on those occasions when there isn’t anything funny about my life. read more…
Life isn’t fair
There are many things I would like to teach my children as they grow. I think that everyone should know how to swim. I think that everyone should know how to find worms and how to bait them on a hook, even if they think it’s gross and only do it once. I think that everyone should know how to cook a basic meal where all four food groups are represented. I think everyone should know how to be truthful and, when the truth would be hurtful to another, how to soften it if necessary.
I think everyone needs to know that life is rarely fair.
I would like it very much if my children could learn that last one without feeling like there is a constant push-pull going on between their father and myself, but guess what! Life isn’t fair, and in this way it is particularly unfair for them. Nothing is fair in divorce. read more…
Can I get an AMEN?
I’ve written before about our decision to seek a different church, because we just weren’t feeling quite at home at the one we’d been attending. This was, you understand, a really difficult decision to make, both because change is hard and we’d been going to that other church for over six months, and also because my ex immediately pounced upon the news as proof that I was a Godless heathen who would soon be decorating the children’s rooms with pentagrams.
That’s just silly, of course—pentagrams would totally disturb the feng shui in there. (I just have them put their voodoo dolls back in their special boxes alongside all the shrunken heads whenever they’re done playing with them.)
Anyway, we’d been to a few churches before settling in the one we’d attended for so long, but now we’re back to trying to find the right church home. read more…
Mammogram antidote
Why yes, it HAS been six months since my last mammogram ALREADY. Thank you so much for remembering. You know how I do so love spending the entire morning having my boobs squashed between plexiglass in the name of health. No, I’ve never had breast cancer. Nor do I plan to. But until my breasts stop being lumpy I seem to have drawn the scan/poke/prod card when it comes to mammary health.
You’re welcome. (Me so sexy!)
Anyway, now that we’re all picturing my LUMPY BOOBS (sorry, Dad) (sorry, Otto), I have to go run over to the hospital to have them smashed. FABULOUS.
Since I’m short on time, I thought I would point out something fun you could do this week if you had some extra time and the inclination or whatever.
Hint: It involves books! And one of my favorite people! read more…
Further proof of my delicate flowerism
I hate New York.
It’s harsh and I’m sorry, I know that Liz is scowling at me RIGHT NOW, but Manhattan gives me hives.
There was a time, when I was in high school and then college, when I was close to death by ennui and I believed NYC to be the ultimate be all and end all in coolness, and as I applied to acting schools and pictured my glamorous life to follow—doing toothpaste commercials while waiting tables and eating giant soft pretzels while waiting for my BIG BREAK—when I believed that Manhattan was The Place For Me.
That was, of course, because I’d never been there for more than a day. And also because back then I hadn’t developed a healthy sense of FEAR. I like Fear. Fear and I are BFFs. I braid Fear’s hair and Fear sits with me and points out all the ways in which someone might die a horrible death. It’s great. read more…
Wild and crazy (but mostly crazy) in NYC
Do you know what I am? I am a small town girl. I like small town things. Like grass! And trees! And fluffy bunnies! And periodic silence!
We are not having much of any of those things here in Manhattan. Go figure.
And so I am trying very hard to find my moments of sanity amidst a very exciting, yes, but also very LOUD and BUSTLING and CLOSE environment.
There are the people you don’t want close to you who seem to always be right up in your face, of course, or banging into you on the street, or lurching drunkenly down the street (Dear UMass boys: You have alcohol back at school. Don’t come to Manhattan to get trashed, you idiots. Love, Mir), or asking you if you want a cheese stick (if I have refused your cheese sticks the last fifteen times you walked past me, WHY DO YOU KEEP OFFERING?). And then there’s the people you DO want close to you, but you practically have to mate to get close enough to hear one another speaking. read more…
Next time, I’ll eat breakfast
Hello! Thanks for bearing with me yesterday. I thought I was going to have more time to blog about it, but I didn’t.
Yesterday I: Was woken up at 3:00 in the morning by a hysterical child, got out of bed for the day at 4:00, was on the road before 5:00, slapped myself repeatedly on the way to the airport lest I fall asleep in the car, boarded a plane, got off the plane, was picked up by a man approximately 5 feet tall who had parked somewhere in the next county and most emphatically did NOT want to chat, put a full face of make-up on in the car while trying not to be carsick, got dropped off at a restaurant whereupon I realized that I hadn’t eaten anything all day and was about to either faint or be sick or possibly eat the next person who spoke to me, sat around chatting with some lovely ladies and had a delicious crab cake and later some goat cheese balls (which were both delicious and are fun to say, because GOAT CHEESE BALLS!), talked and talked and talked some more, tried to look serious while typing on my laptop, finally made it to my hotel, checked in, dropped off my stuff, ran into Kathryn, ate a burger as big as my head (with Kathryn, which I highly recommend), went to a little shindig the Sk*rt ladies put on, and came back here to the hotel and collapsed. read more…
The story is coming
I left home this morning before 5, and this is the first chance I’ve had to breathe all day. Hoooooo! Today was wild. Hint: Soon you’ll be able to see me being an idiot on TV instead of just here on the blog. Pictures and my incurable sense of county bumpkinism to follow, but I cannot type the entire thing on my iPhone.
Be patient a little longer, please.
Things I’ve learned so far today
* Going to bed at 9:30 does not, in fact, make it any easier to get up at 6:00. I do not think that African Sleeping Sickness is transmitted by tsetse flies, I think it is transmitted by children. Children under the age of 10. Who never. stop. talking.
* Once you own multiple Macintosh products, the white cords start mating on your desk. Should you wish to pack the appropriate cords to run your computer, charge your iPod, and sync up your iPhone, don’t be surprised if you find a piece of white coax in your briefcase as well. And don’t think too hard about it.
* If you haven’t received a single phone call all week, your last day to get anything done in the office will be the day that the phone will not stop ringing. They’re all important calls, too. Each one will come right when you’re attempting to pack the appropriate amount of underwear. read more…