10 May 2013 Leave a Comment
She’s been getting a lot of flack lately. First her lifestyle website, GOOP, listed her top spring must haves. A list that totaled up to well over $100,000. Then she was named People magazine’s most beautiful woman. This past week she showed up wearing a see-through side-paneled dress that showed all of her assets.
In the past she’s even been quoted saying things like,” I can’t pretend I make $25,000 a year because I don’t”.
She works out for 4 hours a day dancing around to Tracey Anderson – and now they’ve opened torture excercise schools all over the world. So we can all have tight, toned, dancer’s bodies. Ummm. Sure.
She named her kids Apple and Moses.
I get why she has haters.
But I have a soft spot for her.
I love all her horrible movies. I love all her great movies. Sliding Doors, Se7en, Shakespeare In Love, Sylvia – loved them all.
I loved her on Oprah talking about her perfect macrobiotic life and “mysterious” marriage to Chris Martin.
She’s absolutely ridiculous and out of touch. I know we could be besties. I really do.
There’s a ton of people who deserve haters; Kim Jong-un, Kim Kardashian, Mark Sanford – you get the point.
But why do people hate GP so much (that’s what dedicated readers to GOOP call her, fyi)? Speaking of GOOP, her website, they’ve added a new feature. Every month they highlight a different, esoteric, completely-out-of-touch-with-the-majority-of-the-world company. This month it’s Foundwell. If your only worry is how to stock a vintage bar – and money is no object – it’s for you. And although money is a huge, massive object for me, it’s for me too. Because that kind of flight of fancy doesn’t bother me. It makes me insanely curious. I dream about the people who really do go on the site and see the $950 sterling silver shot cup and say, “finally, I’ve found it”.
So give her a break will ya. She ain’t so bad. She can’t help her rich, untouchable life. She was just born that way.
09 May 2013 6 Comments
Did I mention I like wine?
A few years ago this was a regular sized vase that sat on my kitchen counter.
Now it’s art. Yup. Art.
Not a raging addiction. Nope. It’s not that at all.
This past weekend when we had our friends and family over, someone casually asked if I’d gotten the corks at Home Goods. They sell them you know. Huh.
Did not know that.
I laughed nervously and redirected the conversation.
Another party goer suggested a craft I could do with them.
I laughed nervously and redirected the conversation.
I get a lot of slack for this…collection.
Every Easter there’s an aunt that includes it in her prayers, as in, “please God don’t let it fill up anymore.”
The way I look at it, it’s only half full.
I’m a wine optimist.
08 May 2013 2 Comments
07 May 2013 Leave a Comment
This picture is circa 2000.
I had just gotten a job at a Fortune 500 in NYC. After two years of being at home with my baby, I was back at work as an event planner and loving it. Technically I wasn’t a planner until a year later – in the beginning I was an admin.
An admin to an insane, crazy, brilliant woman who ran our group. The woman who gave me a 45 minute lecture on using colored folders instead of beige folders (the colors distracted her as she walked by my cube). The woman who called me from the Tarmac while boarding a flight to tell me she doesn’t like prop planes and why hadn’t I known that and I better fix it ASAP (I couldn’t because there were only prop planes flying to this part of Colorado. I had offered to book her a car the day before when I warned her about this but she hadn’t been listening, something about researching the perfect toilet – no joke).
But all those moments that would have driven me to quit turned into funny stories we shared. Funny war stories at the lunch table.
We worked really really hard. Almost 24/7. Weekends. Holidays. For no money. It was rough.
But every day, we had lunch together – the whole group. There are a few ladies missing from this pic but this was the core group. We also had a Swiss National and a Brit.
We bitched, we ranted, we raved, but most of all – we laughed.
This restaurant lunch was a rarity. Almost all lunches were either in the cafeteria or at a table on our floor.
No one from other groups ever joined – probably because they weren’t invited. This was anti-networking. This was cocooning.
The majority of the lunch was used to make fun of each other. And there was plenty of material. Marriages, weirdo eating habits, childhood traumas – all ripe for the picking. We left our egos in our cube. Belly laughter ensued.
Then we’d go back to working our asses off.
There were weddings, babies, break-ups, promotions, and more.
The crazy boss lady left. And shockingly, in hindsight, I would miss her. Aside from the batshit crazy episodes, I learned a lot from her. And from all those ladies.
It was and continues to be the best job I ever had.
(not sure why I have glasses on? contact lense malfunction that morning?)
07 May 2013 2 Comments
All through high school my hair was long. Really long. Down to my butt long. It was wavy and thick and beautiful. The week before I graduated I got it all cut off – thanks to Tasha Fogelman and her continuous peer pressure.
That’s when it all went down hill. My long waves became short frizz.
In college it didn’t matter. No one cared. It was cool to not care.
Then I got my first real city jobs working with city girls. Everyone had straight, sleek hair. I discovered this magical thing called a blow-out. It was so…civilized.
Since then I’ve dedicated a good deal of my life to straightening my hair. Flat square brushes, big round brushes, anti-frizz serum. Those are my friends.
I cried when I used my first hair iron.
But lately I’ve been going au natural. Embracing my waves. Forgiving my frizz.
I’ve got a ‘fro and I like it. I’m not sure how long I’ll keep it like this or if the warmer weather will force me to submit. But I’m gonna give it a shot.
Thought you should know.
06 May 2013 2 Comments
What happens when your family gets together?
Is it fun and stressful and crazy?
Do you debate which family vendetta to support and which to avoid?
Which side to pick in the fight du jour?
No? Just me?
In the last two weeks we’ve celebrated two big milestones.
My son’s communion and my daughter’s confirmation. A Catholic religious rite of passage, squared.
This is particularly interesting because I’m not Catholic and my husband is what I would consider a fair weather Catholic. Christmas time, he’s in. Easter mass? Ditto. Other than that? It’s a crap shoot.
Nevertheless, this was important to him. And I like to make him happy and ensure he and my children go to heaven. I plan on being reincarnated until I can finally live a life without Spanx – so they won’t see me for a bit in the afterlife.
Anyway it was two weekends full of fun. The kind of fun that could break out into a fight at any moment. The kind if fun that requires alcoholic beverages.
But it was also the kind of fun where you remember why you love your parents, uncles, aunts, sisters and cousins. You remember that you’re related to these loonies because you are a looney too. In fact you may be the king of the loonies.
God is good.
02 May 2013 4 Comments
in Brave New World Tags: Amazing Story, Bermuda, Cruise, Fate, food, humor, India, Indian Restaurant, Kismet, Life, Photograph, Shrimp, Spicy Food, strange, travel, tv, Twilight zone, USA, Weird Story
Insert Twilight Zone Music….
In 1997, my husband and I took a cruise to Bermuda from New York City, where we lived.
Back then, there was none of this relaxed cruising stuff. You were assigned to a table. And that’s where you sat all week.
Every night, we had the same staff serving us. They were amazing.
This is a picture of one of our waiters, a gentleman from Bangladesh who loved me.
As almost all men from the old country do. Just kiddin’
He took such good care of us. Special veggie dishes. Extra spicy, for me.
Loads of extra shrimp in my husband’s scampi. That kind of thing.
We found out that he lived on the boat 10 months of the year.
Went home to his wife and kids for 2 months and was back at it.
At the end of our week we took this photo, said our goodbyes, and left a nice tip.
Cut to 2006
We were now living in Eastern Pennsylvania with our two kids and a cat
Miles and miles from Bermuda. Or Bangladesh.
I’m in Harrisburg, with my whole family.
We were there celebrating my sister’s bday – at the local Indian restaurant.
Guess who our waiter was.
He left the cruise job, brought his family to the US, and moved to my hometown. Happened to get a job at my parent’s favorite place to celebrate all things. Happened to be working the night we were there. And happened to be our waiter. Again.
Insert Twilight Zone music again….
01 May 2013 1 Comment
I got a call this morning from an oldie but goodie pal who is finally tying the knot with her longtime beloved. I met her at my very first job out of school. I think my major responsibilities were getting scones and coffee for our CEO, but I digress.
The last time I spoke to her was a few years back, when I wasn’t working full-time and had decided to start a wedding planning business. And because I’m an awful person, I haven’t reached out to her since. Although she hasn’t reached out to me either, so technically our joint awfulness cancels itself out. Right?
She called me this morning because she wanted to go over pricing for her caterer, but our conversation quickly went to every single detail of her plans. That’s how I roll. I need to be fully immersed. No toe dipping for me.
As we chatted she asked me the question that all the brides ask, “what was your wedding like?”.
What was my wedding like? It was grand. It was great. It was…a non-wedding.
We eloped. On a lake. In the sun. Without most of our friends and family.
Here’s the long story short – or the short story long:
We got engaged on a cold, rainy February night in NYC (very romantic night involving fighting, crying and celebrating). I’m not sure if it was because I was in my early twenties and insane or because I was in my early twenties and genius – but I wasn’t stressed about the wedding planning at all. I was super chill actually. Then my mother called and said it would be great to have a Hindu ceremony. Then my mother-in-law called and said it would be so nice if we could do a quick trip to the church after that ceremony to get blessed by the priest. So then I got stressed. I avoided thinking/planning/discussing the wedding for a few months. Then my boss, the one I fed scones and coffee to, told me they had to fire 2 people from the office and I’d have to cover for them all summer and wouldn’t be able to take too much time off. Then I freaked. Then I melted. It was mid-May. It was Saturday afternoon. We hatched a plan. We would elope. Run away. To Eastern Long Island.
We didn’t handle the elopement in the best way. There aren’t any elopement planning books. It sounds easy, but it’s tricky. Ok, it’s easy if you actually just go off and elope. We f’d it up.
We had some family there. Some not. We took tons of photos and even a video, thanks to a talented uncle that lived in the town by the lake. We went out to dinner that night with all the relatives that lived in the town. In hindsight, a bit confusing for the relatives who didn’t live in that town and who weren’t invited to dinner. We gave our parents a heads-up, they were totally fine and understanding. The rest of the family? Not so much. It wasn’t an elopement really. It was a small wedding where we chose not to include my parents, his parents, our other sisters (his older sister was there as a witness), aunts, uncles,cousins and close friends. It was ugly.
It’s been 17 years and we still hear about it. On a positive note – we’re still married. There’s that.
So! If you want to chat about your wedding plans? I’m your gal. If you want to talk about how to elope? Google it.
here’s us on that special, messed up, beautiful, ill-conceived, completely imperfect perfect day…
25 Apr 2013 2 Comments
Today was a Day.
Ever had one of those?
And almost every agitating thing that happened was my fault.
Not one other person to blame. Trust me, I tried to find someone, anyone. Nothing. It’s all me.
I hate that.
My girlfriend said that Mars is in Aries. And I’m a Gemini. So I’m dysfunctional on a good day. Throw in Aries and it’s a hurricane. So why does Mars making a pit stop in Aries cause such havoc? Because it means we’re much more likely to take risks. Live without guard rails. In general be a little nutty and go off the deep end.
Well people. I’m off the deep end. Can I blame Mars? Or Aries? Or Kit Kat? Sorry.
I’ll spare you the gory details. I didn’t kill anyone and I’m not selling crack to babies. But boy were there doozies today! F’ups. Miscalculations. Gaps in judgement. Ok, massive craters in judgement.
Sorry to be so pissy. Please go read a trashy online magazine to shake this blog off. Or don’t. Who am I to give any advice today. Good night.
(i was going to find a YouTube video to end the post on a positive - the one with the dancing babies for Evian – have you seen it? I’m not an Evian fan – I think it’s oily and has an aftertaste – but the commercial is funny. Anyway I decided not to find/cut/attach the clip. See. I’m a nightmare today.)