Recent Posts

Saturday, July 21, 2012

Having it All

You've probably seen the Atlantic Magazine article "Why Women Still Can't Have it All" that "went viral" and became the most read article on Atlantic's website, ever.  It came right on the heals of a quote I read that was in the same vein.

Watch the Colbert Interview with the author here.

I don't have any particular or coherent or articulate thoughts on the topic but if you do, I'd love to hear them.

Grown Ups

There is an odd phase of life after college graduation and some undefined time where I think you become a grown up. At least you're suppose to.

They pay bills.

They go to work.

They feed themselves.

They own cars.

They have mortgages.

They have kids.

They says, "kids these days."

They  have it figured out.

They got to bed and get up at reasonable hours.

They make grocery lists.

They always do the dishes and keep a clean kitchen.

They fold laundry fresh out of the dryer.

They keep fresh cut flowers on the table and have a welcome mat at the front door.

They read for fun.

Etc. that rate why would you ever want to be a grown up?

But you know what I've discovered:  there's more! there's better! 

They get to stay out late and eat Dick's at midnight.

They hang out at lounges and watch a funk jazz band lay the base line to Rapper's Delight while wearing a storm trooper costume.

They get to eat really good food.

They buy nice cheese and crackers (that is not ritz and kraft singles).

They host dinner parties.

They shop for as long as they want.

They talk about life and the future and the past.

They worry the same just about different things. Sometimes worry more.

They watch whatever movies they want, as many times as they want.

They laugh freely at and make inappropriate jokes.

They eat bars of chocolate, shamelessly.

They eat Mexican food twice a day.

They layout under the stars and watch the Tour de France.

They have cereal before bed and call it "dinner".

Sure I do some of those things from the first list, but I really like the things from the second list.

Ok, being a grown up, I'm coming for you.

Show Me Some Skin/Love

Once agian, my vanity has prevailed.  So what's new?

I bought a Clairsonic. You know one of those things that you eye for months and then you finally just say, "Yes, yes you are that vain.  Just do it."

So I did it.

After a tortured relationship for 29 years (I'm not exaggerating when I say my skin was so senstive when I was born I reacted with a rash when in contact with water.) I am happy to report we have called a truce.

It was a bit touch and go at first when my skin freaked out for the first week. I had buyers and skin care remorse. I then read that this was normal and to not get discouraged.   So I kept at it. 

Now, my skin loves me.  I love my skin.  It's an all around lovefest.

In conjuction I've bought a new skin care line that is proving to be quite remarkable. Physican Formula Anti-aging serum, redness reducing cream and ultra hydrating cream. A trifecta triple threat.

Also in a moment of weakness and hunger I bought this lotion. The box even says "Goodness. Me." which I'm pretty sure were the same words I uttered.  It smells like, "the aroma of moist layer cake & white velvet cream. A little joy for every day."  How could you not? 

As I'm approaching 30 I am trying my damnest to look as far away from it as possible. And if I can't, I'll at least smell like I just ate a butter cream myself...which may or may not happen.  I'll never tell.

Monday, July 16, 2012


There comes a point in your life when you realize you've lost your marbles.  All of them. 

Sit back relax and enjoy this story that not only demonstrates my questionable judgment but absence of marbles and incredible luck.

It's a regular Wednesday.  80 degrees and beautiful in Seattle.  I'm wearing a favorite outfit, hair done, make up dramatic and sultry and the compliments and flowing like the Nile in monsoon season.  I'm totally digging it.  I'm unstoppable.

I had received an email from a former co-worker early Wednesday morning who I REALLY wanted to make the effort to spend time with.  It had been a while since we had hung out and I REALLY enjoy spending time with him.  (Maybe too much but that's a whole different issue).

The problem was is that I had my aesthetician appointment at 4:00 pm, in downtown Seattle and foolishly thought I could make it somewhere by 6:00 pm. 

At 3:30 I go to my appointment, RUN the mile back to the office to pick up my things, race out the door to haul my ass up Queen Anne.

Half way up the hill a truck pulled over and a kind grandfatherly figure asked for directions .  He was hopelessly lost and would never get to his destination without assistance.  So in a moment of questionable judgment I offered to navigate him there and hopped into a stranger's car.  He turns out to be a cab dispatcher  for Bainbridge island so while we are navigating our way up to his destination he is also dispatching calls on Bainbridge Island. Trust me, I regularly asked myself, "WHAT IS GOING ON?!" 

I guided him to his location which happened to be on the OTHER side of Queen Anne at which point I hopped out and walked UP the back side of Queen Anne.  He was very kind an appreciative which was noted and appreciated.  But,  the clock is ticking, I am sweating profusely from the run up the hill and the general warmness of the day.  I get to my door and go pull out my keys.

Keys…keys…keys…(commence body pat down) WHERE THE EFF ARE MY EFFING KEYS!  EFFF!

Then it dawns on me….those super helpful keys that get me into my apartment and start my car are in my blazer pocket draped gracefully over the back seat of my chair... at the office.

I am no longer unstoppable.  In fact, I'm very stoppable. Right in my tracks standing outside my apartment with my locked car parked just across the street. Commence freak out. 

I call 4 co-workers and the landlord with no avail.  With no further options, I start walking BACK to work.  I opted to take a longer but higher traffic road in the hopes luck would befall me and a bus or cab would cross my path, thus reducing my travel time to minutes instead of an hour.

Alas! A struck of luck.  The inner/former New Yorker hailed an empty cab like a pro and hopped in.  I begged for him to wait for me at the building because the odds of  me getting that lucky again were slimmer than none.  I raced through the lobby, across the courtyard through a very fancy reception, up the elevator, reverse order back out the front. The cab driver so kindly waited and graciously returned me home, with keys in hand. 


Now remember how I really loved my outfit and had my shit put together that day.  Well, a frantic 3 hours in the heat of the day quickly undid that into a drenched, dishevled, fire engine red discolored  shit show.   So, now that I'm 30 minutes late and a hot shit mess, I towel down, redo the face and hair and change into a less heart-palpating outfit and head on out.  Bless his heart the whole time he was calmly assuring me that it was all fine and to take my time and that there was no rush.

After a great evening of laughs and conversation, 10:30 pm was creeping up and that 7:30 am meeting was creeping up real fast.  I rolled on home thinking to myself  there are lessons to be learned from this like, take time to help someone out, or remember your keys, always or hide a spare key or something insightful and practical.   The only one that I can come up with is to plan for the unexpected , keep your marbles as long as you can, keep a dress to impress outfit on hand and shave...always.  None of which I had. 

Tuesday, July 10, 2012

On Repeat

Melancholically hopeful.
And on repeat.

Take a good listen here.

And how slammin' is that dress?  Must.have.

Wenatcheeeeeee it's hot

Sometime during "spring", a Seattlite reaches a point where the grey and gloom becomes intolerable.  At such a moment, for the sake of preserving sanity, one makes reservations on the other side of the mountains and heads east with no plans except basking in the sun. 

So that's what we did.  We packed up the car and headed east to where it was boiling at a comfortable 96 degrees.  So we melted, laughed, drank the DC, sweat through our clothes, tasted some cider, were generally confused about eastern Washington and slept it overly air conditioned hotel room. 

We stopped in Leavenworth on the way over which was my first time there and I can't help but wonder if Bavarians are offend by the construct or indifferent or see us hopelessly failing at the attempt to commercialize a culture (which seems like the American thing to do).  I hope indifferent.

But to the credit of one Bakery they do a mean twice baked chocolate croissant.  I did have this conversation with the young man behind the counter, seeking an opinion with much difficulty:

Me: What's your favorite, like if it were your last meal what would you have.
Him: Oh easy, the pretzel wrapped Brat.
Me (thinking its 10:00 am and a little early for a brat):  Hmmm, maybe something a little less breakfasty type.
Him:  Oh, ummm, hmmm, well….uhhh...maybe…solid minute passes
Me:  (thinking this isn't a hard question but I've really stumped this guy)
Him:  Maybe the twice baked croissant either the chocolate or almond
Him: or the apple turnover.
Him: or the blueberry turn over. 
Him: or the peach cobbler.
Him: or the raspberry turn over is really good too. 
Me:  Well….that's narrows it down.

I opted for the twice baked croissant because anything with those qualifiers has got to be good.  It just felt like a really hard conversation to get to that.  But look, a feast for the taste buds!  So good I would add it to the list of things to eat before dying.

Continuing on to Wenatchee we found a park along the river that was a bit peculiar.  We kept hearing murmurings of how high the river was but it seemed high, and gross.  So we plopped down for a bit, stared into space, noshed on strawberries and fritos until we had enough.

We headed to Cashmere, an odd, quaint and ghostish town.  But it did have a Cider Mill that we had to hit up.  So we did, plopped ourselves on some outdoor chairs and guzzled the juice.  At any point the conversation always revert back to the amount we were sweating and the degree to which our clothes were soaked.  It was bliss.  At the point we thought we might melt into the chairs it was time to leave by way of the makeshift art gallery. All adorbs all the way around.

When the temperature tip the triple digits nothing says refreshing like MEXICAN FOOD!  And lots of it. 

Because we weren't quite overflowing after the Mexican food, we needed Froyo to make the trip complete, and to feel like true gluttons.  In which we spent the whole time discussing stomach issues and bowel movements which, if you can't talk to your girlfriends about that then what's the point of girlfriends.  I'm pretty sure we vacated the area a couple times when eavesdroppers were in for a rude discovery.

The next morning's only objective was to soak up as much sun a possible.  We went for a quick 3 mile walk in which we stopped in a Mexican bakery because exercising while eating keeps balance in this world.   A few hours poolside while distracted by my latest literary obsession (Game of Thrones) helped crisped up my back side until the hotel was ready to kick us out. 


While I wouldn't recommend trying to come home over Highway 2 on a holiday weekend, I would highly recommend grabbing your best girlfriend and head towards the heat at let all your worries and cares melt away. 

Good weekend y'all. 

Thursday, July 5, 2012

An American Summer

Hope you had a great of fourth.  I sure did.  There was 30 mile bike ride, farmland, cows, homemade waffles with berries, Logging Rodeoing, sun soaking, tan lines, BBQing, old friends, new friends, and memories made.  Did I mention the sun showed up? 

We woke up to this

View from the bathroom

"I knew someone would get a flat I just didn't think it would be me." - Classic CA


Buds.....and that stache.

Loggin' Rodeo
Sedro Wolley - July 4, 2012

God bless an American summer.

Text Message Conversation of the Day

Asking about the writing of a book, this "conversation" happened over the course of 2 minutes:

Sister: Eh, S desribed it as Sweet Valley high-ish
Sister: *described
Sister: which is about right
Sister: and they use british speak
Sister: but it’s set in Vancouver/Portland area
Sister: and Seattle
Me: I love to receive text message 2 – 5 words at a time.  Makes me feel popular.

I love my sister.  And she's home in 3 weeks!!