Dear Detox

Burrata with tomato and basil
Pan fried artichokes
Goat cheese and spinach flatbread
Rigatoni pesto
Mac and cheese
Brownie sundae

Gin and tonic
Dirty martini(s)

Went from
Restaurant to trendy dark hotel to gay country bar to restaurant

Talked, laughed, cackled about
Lap band surgery
Aero beds
Kids at camp
Spot in the kitchen where you eat standing up
Husbands who have birthdays today
Babies born of tequila – or so the legend goes

How day turned into night



Pizza Palooza


We dropped the kids off 48 hours ago.  This post is not about the kids. But did I mention that I miss the kids? Waaaaa.

Since then my husband and I have been living like frat boys (except for the annoying jobs that we can’t ignore) – there’s been no cleaning,  no cooking, no making our beds, nothing.  We’ve had pizza for 4 meals so far.  Only two of our meals have contained a vegetable (there was some arugula on one of the pizzas so I’m counting that as one).  Does the wheat in beer count as fiber intake? Is having a persecco-a-day the same thing as having an apple-a-day?

Last night we decided to drive 20 minutes to try a new grocery store. Cause we could. Ok – so maybe frat boys don’t do that. And we have showered and brushed out teeth daily – so no need to panic.

I was planning on doing a cooking post this week.  Not going to happen.  Maybe I’ll do a “cereal of the night” post.

I feel like I’ve already gained 5 pounds.

Here’s some photos of our balanced pizza diet – are you jealous or are you worried for us? Don’t tell me.

it doesn’t mean I don’t love you

Here’s a riddle:

What’s this a picture of?

a) a present I just got from a close friend

b) a present I just bought for a family member

c) a present I bought 4 weeks ago for a cute little baby girl who just turned one and whose birthday party we had to miss but whose gift I should have sent via mail the next day – but instead it sat in my car for weeks, reminding me of how I don’t have my life together.

d) stop judging me!

Did you guess the right answer? Do you think less of me? Don’t hate me. It doesn’t mean I don’t love you if I don’t send you the gift – it just means I’m a spaz.

Moving on.  Why should this present be any different from the unsent thank you notes, forgotten housewarming cards, and of course – the left behind mommy-loves-you letters to camp. None of those things get out alive.

I have the best intentions – and the worst follow-through.  We have so many people in our lives that can get a birthday card to us the day of – THE DAY OF. That’s talented. I have no such talent. I will call you (except that one year I forgot both my best friend and my sister’s birthdays) –  and I’ll eventually take you out to a very nice dinner or drinks or something – but it’ll take a while.

A long, uncomfortable, guilt-ridden while.


Camp Sob Sob

I’ve been out of sorts. Not myself. A little distracted.  My kids left for camp today.  I won’t see them, hear them, hug them, kiss them, yell at them for 2 weeks. For the last 2 days I’ve been running around trying to pack all the necessary things they need to replace my love…err…I mean…to survive in the woods.  We packed and labeled all 1,000 items.  We talked about appropriate vs. inappropriate behavior (telling jokes, appropriate. burping jokes, not appropriate.)

So the boy said goodbye to the cat, the girl said goodbye to her phone – and they were ready.

I’ve been pretending to be really excited and happy – and I am. A little. But I’m also insanely, out-of-my-mind nervous for them.  I’ve had a sick, twisted feeling for days. This can’t be right. Dropping your kids off in the middle of the wood with no electricity to total strangers? I must be nuts. I’ve been trying to talk to my husband about it but he’s too busy looking up all the movies we’re going to see and restaurants we’ll be trying. I always knew I loved them more.

In defense of my husband’s total lack of freak out, I’ll say this  – he went to camp his whole childhood. He loved it – went with all the his cousins and stayed for weeks.  Now here’s a shocker. I did not. I stayed home all summer and caught up on General Hospital and Family Feud.  The closest I came to camp was a job as a counselor one summer – but that was for a long weekend and I was 18.

A girlfriend of mine told me about a New York Times article on “parental campsickness”.  I read the piece. I fit every broad generalization they made.  I’m a cliché. I don’t care.

I have been trying very hard not to make the kids nervous and anxious with all my issues – so I decided to focus on the positive (they’ll have so much fun I’ll have to drag them out of camp!) and not the negative (there are 2,867 ways to die in the woods, really).

I decided to write the kids letters they could read on the first night at camp – filled with advice, love and dried tears.

And off we went.

The camp was beautiful – the girls on one side of the lake – and the boys on the other.

The first camp challenge:  you must learn to pronounce your camp names! Good luck with that.


The kids found their cabins and met their groups – and I held it together almost the whole time.

This is what I found on the kitchen table when I got home.  The letters I was supposed to sneak to the counselors so the kids could get mail tonight at dinner.  Typical.  Keepin’ it real.

Embrace the Strange

Guest post by my seester. I love any blog that uses Willow Smith and Susan Cain.  I’ve seen Susan live and she’s fantastic – and more corporations would have happier employees if they would listen to her – just sayin’.

Strangeness has been on my mind lately. I know that sounds…(I won’t say it)…weird, but it’s made me pretty emotional this morning, so I want to share. I followed a link from Design*Sponge (a really cool design blog that has just gotten better over the years) to Willow Smith’s new single, “I Am Me.” Since I don’t have cable and I don’t really listen to contemporary pop music or the radio, I’d never heard it before. It might not even be new now, I guess. It’s all about Willow embracing who she is, regardless of those who criticize her music or fashion decisions.

While I was watching it, I couldn’t help but think that Willow is strange. She doesn’t dress like the typical tween, her hair is shaved very close to her head, and she is a t.w.i.g. In the video, Willow actually looks like a young Will. The fact that I noticed (and I’m the last to register these sorts of things) got me thinking of our very narrow perception of beauty. You have to be white, or a minority with very European features: small boobs, small butt, angular features, straight hair (full disclosure: I only have the small butt, which just makes jeans shopping a chore). If you’re a girl, you need to look feminine.

Now you may be thinking, “DUH,” but I think what’s so powerful about this is how deeply rooted this thinking is in our global culture. Indians value light skin and European features just as much as Americans do, and I’m sure other minority cultures are the same. So what Willow is doing—flaunting her Strangeness—is really impressive because it’s having a “global” impact.

Yesterday I watched Susan Cain give a TED Talk called “The Power of Introverts,” all about how our society seems to hold extroverts and extrovert qualities on a pedestal (group work, group think, etc), when really anywhere from a third to a half of our population is made up of introverts who just don’t function as successfully in groups. Again, it had made me think about how such people are called strange for what is essentially a biological quality. How messed up is that?!

I don’t know how we go about changing such a deeply rooted problem, but isn’t step one recognition? Isn’t step two conversation? I think I made that one up, but it sounds appropriate. So parents: please share these two videos with your children, and tell them to embrace what’s strange about themselves. But remember that you have to do it too.

Here’s the Willow Smith video. If, like me, you cry if a butterfly flaps its wings in Japan, grab a Kleenex before you watch. Also, this made me think of the “Everybody Hurts” video for some reason.

And here’s the TED talk:

Pop Culture Vulture

That’s me.  Celebrity gossip. Reality shows. Anderson Cooper. These things make me happy., Us Weekly, – daily reading for me. Don’t get me wrong, I am a full-on news junkie – but pop culture has a special place in my heart, right next to chocolate and wine.

Pop Culture Vulture will be a reoccurring post – advance apologies to anyone out there rolling their eyes.

So!  This be my thinking to some current gossip headlines:

Steven Tyler Will Not Return to American Idol

(People Magazine)

Although I stopped watching Idol when Simon and his tight white tee left – I did see a couple of episodes of the show with Tyler and I didn’t get it.  He seemed like a weirdo uncle flirting with all the young contestants (male and female).  In all honesty I can’t really comment on him judging because I spent the majority of my time staring at Jennifer Lopez.  Does her glowy, sparkly skin fascinate you too? No? If only I could have 5 minutes with her make-up bag….

K.Kardashian’s Photos Of Baby Penelope Are A Hard Sell

(Huffington Post)

The Kardashian’s. I have one thing to say to you all – Bruce included.  Turn off the cameras and take a good, long, hot shower. Yuck. 

George Clooney & Stacy Keibler Scoot Through Switzerland

(Us Weekly)

I hate it when these magazines take a photo and make a story out of it.  Although I’m hugely into what George does when he’s over in Lake Cuomo and on holiday in Europe.  If I ever make it to Italy I may have to make a pilgrimage to see where the Clooney scoots around.  I also imagine secret parties with Brad Pitt and Angelina sans kids – or maybe George and Obama solving world hunger while Michelle helps Stacy build an organic garden in the back (after explaining to Stacy what “organic” means). 

The Katie Holmes and Tom Cruise divorce: Accepting the silence … sort of

(Washington Post -yes, it has a gossip page!)

I know I’ve already written about this but it’s everywhere – Brian William just did an hour-long report on them last night, although it was cleverly hidden by calling the piece, Scientology Facts and Myths.   It should have been called, How to do a gossip piece and call it the news.  So it’s 8 days after the first news report broke and the papers are signed, everyone’s moved out, and Tom is being re-engineered as we speak.  Personally I liked Tom best when he was fighting with Brook Shields and calling Matt Lauer glib.  Good times.

Sunny with a Chance of Weirdo

You know what I talk about 10 times a day?


“Can you believe how hot it is?” “Did you see the storm last night?” “How’s the weather where you are?”

When did this happen?

And I’m not talking about filler conversation – or things I say when I don’t have other things to say.  I want to talk about the weather.

I’m into it man.

I have a weather app on my phone that I check more than my emails.

I also like looking at worldwide weather and thinking about what it would be like to live in other weather.

You know I’m a freak – I’m just giving you another reason.

This post could have also been called “Weather Voyeur” – but I thought that sounded too fancy.

Ok – here are my top weather stalking and then pretending I live there cities…’re welcome.



I won’t tell you that I’m also obsessed with random US cities (Duluth, Austin, Bangor) but I thought the global cities would make me look cooler.

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