Doodle Me Crazy

I have a confession. When I’m on a long telephone conversation, or in a long meeting, or in any place that requires my attention for more than a hot second – I doodle. I’ve done it since I was little. I do it in meetings. I do it at home. I do it anywhere. I do it everywhere. Sometimes if I’m in a meeting with very senior people, I spend parts of that meeting reminding myself not to doodle. Scared yet?

I got into massive trouble in elementary school for it, the teachers said I was “making a mess of my papers”. True that.  By high school my grades were so good, they didn’t care what my notebook looked like. They would have let me doodle on tables. That’s the beauty of Catholic school. A few A’s and you run the joint.

Through the years I’ve come to terms with it. It doesn’t mean I’m not interested or paying attention. It just means that I had a sudden, unstobbale desire to scribble something down. It’s like a tick. On paper.

Yesterday, someone at work called me out on it. “Nice drawing” they smirked. Uh oh. Oh well. I couldn’t hide it forever. The first step is admitting you have a problem right?

So here’s a glimpse of my bad habit. Notice sometimes I go abstract, sometimes I go modern – other times I go graffati. I’m so diversified in my doodle. You can’t take that from me. Send help. Or atleast some clean paper.

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FitBit Fab

I don’t get hooked on much – I especially don’t get hooked on any health fads (except for that 6 month affair I had with Zumba). So who knew I’d love wearing my FitBit? It’s so much fun. I love the way it looks. I love that it keeps me honest. I love the 10,000
step buzz. The buzz is everything. I love seeing other people wearing one. I usually nod to those folks and give them a knowing smile – they usually look away quickly, but it doesn’t matter. We’re in it together.
I haven’t been able to make my 20,000 step badge yet ( that’s when you walk 20,000 steps and the bracelet sends you a badge, complex right?). In the grand tradition of my over share, here’s what my days have been lately. Is it athlete worthy? Nope. Is it better than a vegetable? Hells ya.
Shopping for school supplies day:

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Sunday hike. A short hike I guess:

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Back in it!

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A shameful shameful day. I couldn’t even look at my wrist that day.

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Today is still calculating – I’m at 9,878 at 7:45pm. 10s in the bag.
20,000 is going to happen. Stay tuned!

The Tiger’s Mother

Tomorrow my first born starts her junior year of high school. She’s in her room right now excitedly packing for the morning and humming a happy tune. Ok, not really. But she is getting ready. I cannot believe that at the end of this year she’ll be 1) driving a motor vehicle 2) thinking about which college she wants to go to and 3) be on the edge of 17. Just like the white wing dove.
If you believe in astronomy, and I do, she’s a Scorpio. To a capital T.
I also happen to believe the Chinese calendar, she’s a Tiger in that one. A born leader. Brave and warm-hearted. Sensitive and easily hurt but also fiercely protective of those around them. Yeah, that’s about right. She’s all that. And more. 
But tomorrow she’ll just be my little baby, going off to 11th grade.
I’d like to show you a picture of her leaving the house in the morning, in her uniform, ready to face to world – but I won’t be allowed to take a pic. Tigers and Scorpions aren’t exactly easy to photography. But she can’t stop me from posting these! 
Here’s my world from 1998 to present. In a blink.

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Ganesh is Good!

So…I made it to 31 days of blogging straight. Phew. I’m tired. Now goodbye until December. Ha ha. Just kiddin. It was very appropriate that the day my self-inflicted challenge to “write” every day ended, I went to celebrate the Indian god that you pray to when you start stuff. Typical.
Anyway – I met my family today to celebrate the Hindu god Ganesh. You know, the one with the elephant head. Every year in late August, this god of new beginnings is the central focus of all festivities for 10 days. A huge, I’m talking 20 foot huge, statue is created for the holiday. On the 10th day it’s taken to a body of water and submerged as an offering for a good year. We didn’t see that happen. I’m not even sure where they’d go in New Jersey to do that.The shore? Would we want Ganesh to be with all the other people sleeping with the fishes? I dunno. What I do know is that the festival involves food. Not Indian buffet food – there’s no chicken tikka masala here. This is Indian street food. For Indian street rats like me. We also did some shopping and spent some quality time with my parents, which means we let them buy stuff for us. They love that.
Here’s some pics and here’s to an amazing new year – so says Ganesh.
My mom and dad about to approach the big guy.

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Here’s Ganesh in all his glory.

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And here’s my favorite of all the food – and there was a lot of food – eaten today! It’s a puffed, crispy thin bread stuffed with all kinds of yogurt, potatoes and cilantro chutneys. Then they top it with fried thin noodles. A food for the gods. Or for me. We also found a pickle bar. Indians love a good condiment.

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Wasn’t this just us?

Dear Julie, 

I was driving somewhere yesterday, and saw these two ladies walking in the neighborhood.

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You know what I thought about right? Us, circa 2004, walking our neighborhood in upstate NY with our babies in tow. Thank goodness for those walks and for you. I would have gone crazy. Actually I did go crazy but you were just my kind of crazy, so it all worked out. Our boys rode along as we hiked the ‘hood. They heard us talking and laughing and being totally relieved to be with each other. I hope these gals are doing the same. I hope they are talking about politics and religion and racial/gender equality, because we did. After days and nights spent with kids and husbands, whom we loved, it was so nice not to talk about homework, dinner or family. I imagine these ladies feeling like we did, like we were in college again with our best pal – except with a baby or two in tow. Those were such happy days! 

Now we live in different states and see each other less often – but often enough to stay on the same path. I was a bit jealous when I saw these gals, wishing to have some of this back, but then I realized it’s only gotten better. The boys we pushed around together act like brothers and we can still talk the talk, even though we don’t walk the walk. 

xoxo

Blog interrupted

So I meant to write a really coherent, interesting blog as always (ha ha), but then this happened…. My boy got his brown belt!! Yippee. Thank goodness he got some distant relative’s athletic gene.

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And then I had just 18 minutes to shower and get ready for a night out with friends – and then this happened..

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Which led to this…

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And then it was 10pm and I had to go to bed. Kidding! More like 10:15pm.
#livinthethuglife

Two Truths and a Lie

This was my son’s first homework assignment. The teacher used it as an ice breaker to get the kids comfortable with each other. At first, I judged and poo poo’d – as I tend to do. But then we got into it and it was fun. And I wanted to play the game too. So here’s mine, see if you can guess:
1) I can’t crochet
2) I can’t ride a bike.
3) I’ve met Brad Pitt
Doesn’t quit work as an ice breaker for us because you are the black hole known as the internet, you may not even be real. I just pretend you’re real so I don’t think I’m cray cray. Which I most certainly am.
Incase you’re not a robot, and you really want to know the lie…
It’s number two. I can crochet, although it’s always the same thing – a really nice, thick scarf. Which is basically the easiest thing you can do with yarn. Still counts. And I have met Brad Pitt. I ironed his shirt when I interned at ABC. When I handed it to him he said,”thanks”. See, totally met.
Another truth, this whole blog was just an excuse to name drop Brad Pitt.
Take that internet!

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