We’re headed to Lønstrup, Denmark for two weeks of family visits. I am hoping we will have better weather than we had on our last trip. Benjamin is counting the days until we go to the airport, and I have been planting the idea in his head of how exciting it is to go nite-nites on a plane and wake up in a different country. I won’t be bringing my computer, but expect to take notes as I did last time, and perhaps more pictures.
Monthly Archives: July 2007
It had been months since I had a haircut, and even though it was looking afterglow fabulous today, I went to see April at Derby. (April has already been praised in an earlier post). Before sitting in her chair, I went to the loo and saw that my salon and my very stylist was named on the A-List for Allure Magazine. So, if you’re in Seattle and need hair help, you know what to do. Call Derby, ask for time with April. And if you need a tattoo, her husband can set you up.
Ben’s third birthday brought us a gift that just keeps on giving: the question “Why?”
As a spokesperson, and someone who likes good extemporaneous challenges, I think I do pretty well on the YQ&A, but even a seasoned professional question answerer can get, um, flustered. I have already said, more than once, “Because I said so,” something I would never say to a journalist. But thinking of Ben as a reporter on deadline has helped me over most of my less patient moments, and has been almost like explaining the immediate business relevance xml:id to a trade reporter.
When we do watch TV, we try to watch it together with Why? Especially the painful and completely dangerous Diego, which in 20 minutes managed to contradict everything Ben understood about wild animals (give them their space, they don’t speak like people, they don’t need rescuing). Now, there’s a group of writers I’d like to ask “Why?”
A femmominist blog friend sent me a questionnaire all about one of my (guilty) favorite topics: myself.
I’ll answer, and perhaps someone will send her 5 million
Remove the blog in the top spot from the following list and bump everyone up one place. Then add your blog to the bottom slot, like so:Mummy Musings the epic of mom The Informal Matriarch blue milk the kitchen table
What were you doing 10 years ago?
Leaving my first start-up company in Western MA to work for another in Boston.
What were you doing 1 year ago?
Five snacks you enjoy
- dark chocolate with a jar of peanut butter. Sometimes in a dish with a spoon.
- olive bread
- Rosie’s recipe thumbprint cookies
- iced black tea with lemon
- a peeled grapefruit
Five songs that you know all the lyrics to
Years ago, the challenge would have been to name five songs I didn’t know the lyrics to. Still, I surprised some colleagues (and myself) at my kareoke debut in Tokyo last November. I am teaching myself the lyrics to “Tears Dry on their Own” by the tragically superbly-piped Amy Winehouse.
- The Distance, Cake
- Born to Run, Bruce Springsteen
- From a Whisper to a Scream, Elvis Costello and the Attractions
- The Real End, Rickie Lee Jones
- I’ll Be Home for Christmas, US standard
Five things you would do if you were a millionnaire
- Give big gobs of money to organizations with feminist goals.
- Set up college funds for my nieces and nephews.
- Buy my mother a new home.
- Move to a progressive neighborhood.
- Run for political office with my own money.
Five bad habits
- Employing “scorched earth” techniques with the less than perfect.
- Being an openly resentful martyr.
- Caring what other people think.
- Falling in love with loud prints.
- Picking at schmutz on my toddler like a mama chimp.
Five things you like to do
- Sing and Dance!
- Cook for friends.
- Go to the sea.
Five things you would never wear again
Oh, this is a tough one. Most of my fashion influence came early vis-a-vis my aunt’s issues of Glamour in the mid ’70s.
- Pegged pants.
- Buccaneer blouses.
- Dayglo socks
- Big horizontal stripes
- Feather earrings and Fair Isle sweaters, together – but only for health reasons. I’m such a closet “Glamour Don’t.
Five favourite toys
- My digital camera
- sketchbooks and micron pens
- the cd player/sunroof in my car
- my magnum peppermill
- my little red nano, though I think it could get higher up the list if I used it more often.
Five people I’m tagging (who I think may be good humoured enough to comply and who if they do, will come up with interesting and/or witty things to say) :
And here is where I’m stumped. I’ll update with 5 cool people who may not have been tagged yet.
I brought my bags to the car at 10:30pm, teeth numb from tiredness. I had my shortest east coast trip to date up ahead, two dresses, a stomach eliminator, and directions to a friend’s vacant condo in South Boston. Longer lines than I expected at SeaTac, including guys with golf bags in the shuttle bus. Sleepwalking to and through the terminal, I ended up in a first-class seat, but not enough time to get real rest – as we stopped and deplaned at MSP.
By the time I got to Boston, all I wanted to do was take a nap. Instead, I and the cabbie got lost on the way to my friend’s home. I had him let me out on A Street, figuring I’d have an easier time navigating alone. (I was right.)
My friend’s home reminded me of other places she had lived, though this was the smallest of all the abodes I had visited. She’s petite with a great (artist’s) sense of proportion, and the scale of the place suits her – it was almost as if I was visiting with her artchitectural equivalent. Southern exposure and a balcony revealed a city aroused and asleep.
On the way into the ‘Tute, the obligatory pilgrimage to Rosie’s Bakery, and my politeness to other customers won me a “hun.” Though overtired and in town for a somewhat sad occasion, I was invigorated by the company of my colleagues. My drop in dinner at the Blue Room was also welcoming, and delicious. It was good support, a grounding, for the next day or so.
In addition to meetings, I was in Boston to help others celebrate the memories of a colleague who had passed away suddenly last spring. To be there for the living, not unlike the wakes and funerals of my own family traditions. But different, in that there was this space, the space of a year, to bring one’s thoughts together and reflect on what we knew of him and remembered of our interactions with appreciation and perhaps less rawness.
As for myself, I still can’t quite believe my colleague is dead. Perhaps that is the way it is when one dies suddenly, as did his wonderful wife months in advance of him. It’s not to say that the shock is absent after a long illness, but the shock of the sudden loss is, well, pretty unfathomable. And throughout the year, I kept wondering when he would appear on the telcon.
The memorial service, which revealed whole lives unknown to some of us, but with the clearly identifiable character of our colleague, was a pleasure and comfort to those in attendance, particularly his children. But I have to say, I still keep hoping to hear a sardonic remark in his wonderful dry voice. That voice! May it, and much of what he said, continue to live on in us. Rest in peace, Alan.
At some point this year (2007), this wonderful picture of my son began getting page views. It’s now the most popular picture in my photo stream, though I have no indication of how it happened, as the giraffe tag was added *after* the spike in views.
The internets are magical!