Shaking sh&t up

These past few months have been a cocoon of work and home and work. The biggest excitement I’ve had is finding a new show to watch (Atlanta!). Other than that it’s been the usual post holiday hibernation. Which I actually love.

But not today. Today I shook sh&t up.

That’s what my husband calls it. We’ve done it before.

Hey we’re in our 20s and have no prospects for the future… let’s have a baby!

Hey there’s a new job that requires us to uproot our family and move to a town where we don’t know anyone…let’s do it!

Hey husband…you should leave your crappy but stable job and start your own business!

You get the point.

So at 5:15pm today I went for it.

Only this time it wasn’t as crazy as moving or quitting my job.

I got a haircut. A big big haircut.

Like all my hair gone haircut.

This is what the salon looked like afterwards. Like a hair crime scene.


It was so much hair that other stylists came over to talk to my stylist.

“I never get to have fun like that,” they said

“Ugh! My person wanted an 8th of an inch taken off,” they cried

Not me. You could have made a tiny wig with my leftover hair.

Why you ask? What made me do it?  I truthfully decided on getting this cut about 2 weeks ago.

Here’s the part where I share the story and you try hard to not think I’m crazy.

For the 25+ years I’ve known my husband he’s tried to get me jewelry. Sometimes it’s completely right-on. Most times it’s…off. This is not news for him to hear. I’m good at a lot of things, but one of them is not pretending. My face shows all my truths instantly. He’s had his heart-broken by my narly look after many an important gift giving moment. Christmas morning. Birthday dinner. Valentines…you get it. I’m horrible. As you can also imagine after years of this kind of emotional gamble – he’s stopped. And I’m totally ok with it. And actually our gift giving to each other has kind of faded. Which sounds sad but it’s not. It’s awesome. It’s a relief. Judging yet? It’s ok. I’d judge us too.

But two weeks ago he surprised me with a set of beautiful, dreamy, totally me earrings. These earrings were made for me. They are simply the best gift I’ve ever gotten from him. The. Best. Almost like he’s waited for a decade to get me the perfect gift.

Cut to today. I started thinking about Thursday, when I’ve asked him to take me and my earrings out for dinner. I can’t wait. But something was off. You couldn’t really see my earrings because my hair had gotten super long and super out of control.

So I decided there was only one thing to do. Chop my hair.

When I showed my husband he laughed and said,”Look at you. Shaking sh&t up”

Yep. Always. Just like you taught me.




 

 

 

 

 

Signs that I’m growing as a person?

It’s Girl Scout cookie time. 

Talk about a cause that we can all rally behind. 

For years I’ve been a devoted follower/subscriber/supporter. This year was no different. Except for one thing.

My usual lean on Thin Mints has diminished a bit. All of sudden I’ve become a bigger fan of Lemonades. 


It’s shocking. Lemon? Over Chocolate? Could this mean tarts over cake? Pepsi over Coke? Just kidding, I actually can’t tell the difference between Coke and Pepsi. I’m a monster. 



I’m also a judger. I’ve always silently but wholeheartedly believed that people who choose lemon dessert over chocolate are somehow…suspicious… up to no good. Or they were Grandmas. Let’s face it – there is a correlation between age and lemon love. There just is. 

So what happened to me? I’m still youngish and kind of full of vigor. I dunno! I can’t explain it. I’m just all about the lemon now.

Maybe it was Beyonce’s last album. Or me finally breaking down my bias and reaching across to the aisle to better understand my fellow humans.

A chocolate fan is not better than a lemon  fan. Lemon lives matter! 

Whatever. Atleast I’m still better then the peanut butter cookie fan. What a freak.

Fire Rooster


Happy Chinese New Year to all!

Remember last year when I was so super excited about the Year of the Monkey?

https://wordpress.com/post/wifemothereventplanner.com/6666

Well 2016 lived up to all the hype. Like a monkey it was full of energy, erratic and sometimes scary and full of surprises.

But Rooster. I have high hopes for Rooster. I know I don’t have to capitalize the word Rooster – put your red pens away. But I’m just trying to give it the respect it deserves.


Last year I went to a flea market and found a little monkey holding a banana. I brough him home and put in my kitchen and prayed that he’d bring me luck. And he did.  The monkey may have caused havoc in the world but for my little world – it was a good year.

When I think of 2016 I’ll think of  Kera and all her friends graduating. I’ll think of all the beautiful weddings we were lucky enough to be a part of – Keith and Danielle, Herb and Larry, Marcello and Lorraine, Sweta and Wendall.

I’ll think of my friend Sarah who welcomed little Charlie. I’ll think of my baby boy becoming a teen and celebrating 20 years of marriage with my guy.

That’s what I’ll think about.

So Rooster – Fire Rooster. Sign of dawn and awakening. Sign of hard work and justice. Sign of logic and reason.

I’ve always loved roosters. I know you’re going to think I’m crazy – but I have them all over the house. In fact this past Christmas, my secret Santa even gave me a rooster cookie cutter (Thank you Ty!). I’m not sure I ever thought about why I loved them. But I’ll take some logic, reason and justice. I’ll take being more grounded.

So let’s go people. Time to wake up. Time to get to work. Fire Rooster is here.

 

 

 

Christmas past and present and presents and presence

I get a little weepy about things on Christmas morning. Weepy in a good way. Actually I get weepy all the time. There’s an oatmeal commercial that brings me to tears. An oatmeal commercial. True story (and off you goooo…) but I digress. 

With an 18 and a 13 year old it’s not exactly the magic of Santa that I’m trying to keep alive – even though their presents don’t show up under the tree until the night before – it’s the magic of all of us being together doing the same things, creating our family stories. Going into NYC on Christmas Eve to be with family, driving back at midnight, waiting a little bit and then sneaking all the gifts down. Waking up on Christmas Day, opening the gifts, going out for Chinese food and then a movie. This year we added to that day and had the best Christmas dinner with friends (onion pie, lasagna and dessert!). I wish I could slomo the day. Or have it on repeat like A Christmas Story on TBS. It’s 11:18 and I don’t want it to be over yet. 

It all goes by too fast, Ferris Beuller was right. I’m trying very hard to stop and look around. But all I see are babies getting big…so I’m just gonna go right back and live in the past for a bit. Just for a second. It’s my gift to myself. 
I hope you all had a very merry weepy holiday too. 









Dear 50’s housewife, it gets better

I read this article someone reposted from an old lifestyle magazine.

Then for laughs I rewrote it. Let me know if there’s any other advice that should be in there. Click link below.

tips-to-look-after-your-husband

oh hey….

Remember me? No? I don’t blame you. It’s been a few days, or weeks or maybe months (ouch).

I just haven’t been in the mood. Every form of social media that I used to love and get excited to be a part of became a vehicle for me to voice my frustrations. About what you ask? Well, you know what. Tuesday, November 8th is what. And since the middle of the year I’ve been caught up… in it…with it. Up to my neck. Who knew I was so civic-minded? Not me – my priorities (outside of my family of course – I’m not a monster) were usually my DVR rotation and what I was having for my next meal. But I got hooked. And it felt great. And I did and do and will always believe in it. But I’m exhausted. A friend texted me the night of the election and said she was gutted. That’s the perfect word for how I felt too. Gutted. Not just by the results, but by the ride.

And when I woke up the next day and hopped a train to work – I felt like a zombie. But then I started seeing friendly faces. Talking. Laughing. Commiserating. My team and I  literally broke bread (NYC bagels) together the morning after and talked about how we all spent the night before. It felt great – and it wasn’t just the sugar from the carbs hitting our system. It was hearing about plans for the next weekend. Complaining about upcoming meetings and joking about family.

Now, a few days out, I’m coming out of the fog. And it doesn’t hurt that the leaves are bursting with psychedelic color and my favorite cooking shows are all focused on Thanksgiving (I don’t even mind the Christmas commercials already airing).

So I’m going to start a cleanse. And this cleanse has nothing to do with kale or juicing. I haven’t lost my mind. I’m going to stop indulging and eating up the news. I’m going to stop soaking up opinions and articles and shows about the state of the world.

You’ve heard me say that I love Facebook – or I used to. I loved seeing posts from friends and family near and far about their daily lives and what they were up to. But in the last year, the news feed that used to make me happy has either incited me or validated my opinions. I’ve felt the need to read and absorb every single good/bad/hurtful/helpful thing that comes up. And it’s depleted me. I joined a local group of supporters who felt like I feel and think like I think and I thought it would make me feel better. But it didn’t.

So I’m cleansing and purging. I deleted all my posts that were political in nature – and the comments good and bad that followed. If I thought for a second it would feel like a copout – it didn’t. It felt great. I also hid every single person on my news feed that posts constantly about their political/social views – whether I agree with them or not. I would never unfriend them – but now I only see what they post when I want to. I realized a lot of my actions were reactions to other people. That can’t happen anymore. Instead my newsfeed is full of people who post dog pics, their latest cooking ventures and what they did the night before. If you checked in to a good restaurant last night, I want to know about it. If your kid’s team won – I want to cheer him on with you.

Does that mean I don’t care anymore? No.I care a lot. None of my views have changed. Not one. I still believe in every single vote I cast. And I’d do it again (I will for sure in 4 years). But I have never been a fighter. I’m not into it. I don’t enjoy making someone feel bad. I’ve worked hard to only have people in my life that make me feel good – make my family feel good.  Passion is good, but it needs balance so it doesn’t become rage. And I value kindness above all other things. Period. I don’t always succeed, but I try.

So I’m going to focus on Cranbury sauce recipes and whether I should add buttermilk to this year’s mashed potatoes, is that a crime? I’m going to put all my brain power where it belongs – on a new brine recipe for the turkey. Furthermore! I need to start thinking about Black Friday….will I or won’t I? I’ve been ignoring these major decisions for too long.

Talk soon, xoxo

 

Blog dump

I got called out. Last night we were all sitting around talking about things (end of high school, end of school year, politics, The whip and nae nae, etc), and my daughter quietly turned to me and said, “Mom, why can’t I see any of your blog posts pop up on my Facebook anymore?”…. Why? Oh. That’s easy. Because I don’t write them. LOL. Ahem. Got a problem with that? Then they all started.

“Why don’t you write?”

“Are you done with the blog?”

“Do you need ideas?”

No. No thank you. Ideas I have. Infact, that may be the problem. I have too much stuff to write about. I can’t organize it all. It doesn’t all go together. It’s a mishmash of opinions/thoughts/experiences. It’s good stuff, it’s bad stuff, it’s all over the place. It’s a schizophrenic mix of events during the past few weeks that I’m afraid I can’t prioritize.  Look, even me describing it is a hot mess. But I’ll try. I’m warning you all now. There’s stuff in here that is really really great, and stuff that’s really really meh. But I have no time or patience to separate those things…so here you go.

I hated Disney. There. I said it. It’s been weighing heavily on my mind. We had a really good event there. It wasn’t crowded. The weather was amazing. My family loved it. The service levels at the resort are bananas good, the people are super friendly- but guess what – not my thing. I even met and hugged Mickey himself and felt…nothing. I guess I’m dead inside.

I did not hate my 20th wedding anniversary. 20 years. Same dude. #goodlife

I turned 44. Here’s where I stand. I have a shitload of white hair. My lady bits are having some issues (you’re welcome for the overshare), looks like I have to be a normal human and see a doctor more often.  I’m grateful for the very deep relationship with my manicure/pedicure gals. Nothing feels warmer than me walking in and all of them smiling and saying, “hello Neha! Mani/pedi/wax?” Yes. Yes. And really yes. I’m also happy to have friends who are still around even though I talk to them less than I write this blog. I’m thankful for all the usual stuff too (kids, family, job, yada yada).

I’m obsessed with Seinfeld, again. This may be bad news for my obsession with Everybody Loves Raymond, I’ll let you know.

God grant me the serenity to accept my family and friends who love Trump. In my mind I imagine even Oprah has friends and family like that – and what would she do? Would she look down on them? No way. She would openly embrace them and love them. For they know not what they do. I’m gonna be like Oprah. Forever.

I am sick of talking about how busy I am. I’m done. I can’t hear myself anymore. If I were listening to me I’d tell me to shut-up. Enough. What am I? The Queen of Sheba? No. Not. I’m riduclous. I will find something else to talk about. Starting tomorrow….I’ve got a lot to do today.

We went to a wonderful, beautiful wedding. I love weddings. I love all of it. I find nothing cheesy or boring about weddings. This is the great mystery of my life. I love weddings but I also loved eloping. Go figure. Maybe I like OTHER people’s weddings. Anyway – it was beautiful and fun and touching. Mazel tov to Keith and Danielle (and Cora the cutie!).

Guess what? The day after that wedding I went to another wedding…err.. wedding celebration. Two lovebirds who found each other later in life but make every day and every moment count. The love story of Marcello and Lorraine gives me serious feels, as my son would say. They are joyful and generous. As I get older I no longer find humor in marriage sarcasm. I love couples who love. Openly and happily. During one of our book club meetings a few months ago (Babes with Books lives!), a new member described her dating life with her then boyfriend by saying,”we spent the next two years falling in love before he proposed.” Come on! That’s some beautiful stuff right there. I told you I’m getting old and soft. One more thing to share about this day…during the time that Marcello and Lorraine were falling in love in Italy, he took a photo that captured a special moment in their courtship. That day, that beautiful photo memory ended up on their wedding cake as a surprise to the couple. Tears flowed from both the bride and the groom. No hiding that kind of emotion and love.

Work is going well. My team and I have lots of fun together. Atleast I think we do. Am I one of those people that think their team likes to hang out with them when deep inside they are all miserable and unhappy and would much rather be anywhere but with me? I dunno. I’m going to start a group chat with them and find out.

My daughter went to senior prom. My son got his blackbelt. It was the best weekend ever.

I’m wearing color, and I don’t mean grey. Or is it gray. I don’t know how long it’ll last and I still like wearing all black – but I get a lot less slack this way. People like it when you mask your inner darkness with chunky yellow jewelry. If I were an evil super villian I’d get away with it all just by wearing a light, flowery shirt. Just an fyi.

Beyoncé. Lemonade. Everyday. When you’re talking to me, just know that’s what’s going on in my head.

Have you had enough? I’ll try to be better..I still have more to tell you…it’s just that I’m so busy 🙂

Previous Older Entries