On (Un-Sweating) the Small Stuff

Big Picture Reminders.

It's easy to sweat the small stuff, between relationship, career, and family responsibilities, while losing sight (literally and figuratively) of the faces of the folks who make your world a better place. Weeks lapse into months (lapse into years) of missed coffee dates with friends and dinner dates with significant others, until quick fixes are found amidst facebook wall (vacation/graduation/relation) hipstomatic photo posts and three-line message reminders sent between mid-day meals. Enjoy!

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On the Waiting Room

Out of Sight, Out of Mind.

Passing the dreaded time in a hospital (operating) waiting room - a place that rarely enters one's thoughts until, that is, you find yourself waiting the hour (or ten) for a loved one's name to be called - usually involves unexpected people-watching, condolences between strangers, and multiple trips to the hospital cafeteria. Relatives and friends share i-pads and twizzlers, as nameless companions sigh heavily in commiseration while tacitly wondering whose wait is worse. Enjoy!


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On One-Liners

Via Snail Mail.

Since I've moved across country - exactly two weeks and three days ago - I have a pile of outgoing snail mail accumulating by my over-sized vestibule (which happens when you leave nyc - oversized vestibules, I mean). Much more frequently than when I lived alongside my family and friends of (several) weeks, months, and decades, I find myself encountering postcards, articles, and batches of cookies (for the lucky few) that recall "remember when's" that I feel so (nostalgically) inclined to postal service their way. At the risk of overwhelming or - worse yet - hearing nothing in return, the stack will be disbursed over coming weeks (and months), as new reminders accumulate and well wishes become less frequent. Enjoy!

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On Going Camping

Blog will resume on Monday, August 29th, after sleeping bags are brushed off and tents repacked.

On the Perfect Vacation

While There's Still Time!

In a 90-degree summer economy, when penny-saving and staying indoors are mere necessities and postcards from other people's inspiring vacations are not-so-fond reminder that relaxation can (sometimes) be hard to come by, relishing time off is a skill as much as a luxury. Anticipation and disconnecting (from the i-phones, that is) are just two of the handful of ways we can check out without checking in. Enjoy, as in really enjoy!

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On Being 13

If anything, what do we miss about {insert appropriate year}?

Robin Hood: Men in Tights. I will Always Love You (released in '92 but still number one on the charts), and, later, Hero (released on 12/25/93). Power Ranger action figures (shout out to my lil' bro). Manny's Pizzeria during lunchtime (Park Slope, Brooklyn/5th ave & 5th st, not the one you know today.) Slam books, ski trips, girl cliques, sleepovers. The B(us)75 after McDonald's on half-days. McDonald's. Half-days. The Scouting Party (Park Slope, Brooklyn/7th ave & 9th st, a tragic loss). Flannel shirts, boyfriends (twice made), school dances, science class. Shakespeare for the first time. (Enjoy.)

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On Disciplined Disciplining

The Spanking of the 80's.

Whether it was the threat of being spanked or the reality of the being grounded (at a time when television-watching was restricted to the family living room and cell phones had yet to be conceptualized), I was a fairly well-behaved child who only acted out to spite my sibling, or so I'm told (...by my sibling). Punishments lasted long enough to learn lessons and shed tears (minutes, if that) until barbie doll socials and pre-General Hospital snack time resumed to distract from an afternoon of forgotten discipline. Enjoy!

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On i-Birthdays

Happy! Happy! (Belated!)

When carefully selecting the appropriate six words to stamp a facebook friend's birthday wall on his or her special day, a series of considerations take place, including - but not limited to - the actual friendship status. Close friends merit at least two sentences, or a personal joke, or a heartfelt run-on, while mere acquaintances or long, lost childhood buddies, or that guy you met at that work training one time, who you haven't seen, spoken to, or thought of (without facebook prompting) in years, get the straightforward "happy birthday!," with one exclamation point and not even a name acknowledgment. And yet even the shabbiest well wishes elicit that warm, fuzzy feeling inside the birthday-honored facebook member's heart, as it typically goes on that one day of the year when even the slightest gesture feels special. Enjoy!

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On Extricating the Ex

Googling the Good Stuff.

We've all done it - or most of us, anyway - the good ol' google, facebook, or myspace (if we're desperate) search of our ex(es) to find out the latest dirt -- married? kids? graduate school? quarter-life crisis? -- after which we semi-satisfyingly return the variation of our own lives that resemble bits and pieces of our recent e-discoveries, until we unexpectedly run into them (in the airport or the supermarket) feigning surprise at their recent successes (or failures). Enjoy!

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On Strangers in the Night

Exchanging Glances... (--Frank Sinatra)

Driving back from a ski weekend away with my high school girl clique, the teenage boy in the beat-up car driving along our same route (somewhere between Pennsylvania and Brooklyn) caught our glances. For the next 30 minutes, he was the cause of much giggling and reckless maneuvering, until our long-distance communication came to fruition. I accepted the dare willingly and unthinking, as I outlined my digits as large as the scrap paper allowed and held it against the rear-passenger window until I was sure he'd scribbled them down. Three days later, he called. Three days after that, we met at a bowling alley. Three hours after that, my girl clique and I drove back to our respective bedrooms (eyes glued to the road, without roadside distractions) pondering how much the cute boy in the beat up car coming home from the ski weekend could be such a dud, and, next time, we'll just skip the digits and live it up at the McDonald's rest stop. Enjoy!

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On Strutting Your Style

Trimming a Personality.

Shaving a beard, chopping off chops, piercing a brow, or tattooing a curve inevitably changes the strut in your walk, the fire in your eyes, the twang in your tone, and the personality in your soul. Unfamiliar colleagues inquire about what's different while unexpected strangers in bars, on the street, in coffee shops, and on morning commutes stare longer than usual. Enjoy!

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On What Could Have Been

Lamenting the Past.

When one door closes another door opens, but that doesn't mean we don't occasionally fantasize about shoving a crowbar into the crevice through which we see glimpses of the road not taken. Regrets are lamented, relief is forgotten, and for brief moments in time we wonder aloud what could have been. Enjoy!

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On Blogging From the West

The Ghost Whisperer.

Camping trip outings are far from complete without s’more-induced stomachaches and late night ghost stories, during which fire ring participants nervously laugh off familiar tales from childhood overnights in the [Catskill] mountains. Two hours later, tucked snuggly inside LLBEAN sleeping bags and wedged between immovable rocks, sleepless nights are haunted by unidentifiable noises from the dark shadows of the woods. Mornings are greeted by facades of restful coffee-drinkers, as backpacks are zipped and water bottles are filled, and sighs of relief are released quietly into the sunrise rays. Enjoy!

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On Relocating to Colorado

This blog will resume once the blogger resumes her wifi connection out west - hopefully by Monday, August 8th.

On Rain Checks & Rain Storms

Delaying Even This Blog.

Rain storms are the perfect excuse to cancel uninteresting brunch plans with the co-worker you already see on a daily basis, or the exercise commitment you swore would be different this time, or the blog post you forgot to write while preparing to move across the country (ahem!). Television reruns are devoured amidst microwavable popcorn and Chinese leftovers, phones go unanswered, and guiltless hours indoors make up for the sunscreen-less summer month ahead. Enjoy!

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On Our Favorite Teachers

High School French Class; September 1993.

The first day of French class in ninth grade was terrifying. I was timid and insecure. Mr. P partnered us up by passing around a basket full of scrap paper -- numbers that matched classmates for intimidating interviews in a language we'd never spoken. As luck would have it, Mr. P was my match. I learned that he was 34, married, and spent his free time playing in a band. Over the semester, I learned more: Mr. P was kind and sarcastic, spoke slowly when we needed him to, and willingly shared cd's of his music after pop quizzes and rainy afternoons. Years later, as I shakily ordered baguettes in Paris during a semester abroad, I thought of Mr. P conjugating verbs while writing lyrics in his head, hopefully about students he'd never forget. Enjoy!

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On Habitual Writing

Resisting the i-Calendar.

I was a devoted filofax owner for nearly ten years, in spite of my futile dabbles with various palm pilots and (at&t) cell phone calendars. Leaving my trusty ol' schedule scrapbook at the office meant calling in to my co-workers on a sick (or vacation) day to flip to the page with the upside-down ruler to fill in the blanks of the schedule I was ditching. And then one day I decided to make a mediocre attempt to take my paper calendar online (gmail to be exact), with little faith that my usual efforts would make me an e-convert. But then the unexpected happened: I was hooked almost immediately. What I expected to resist -- a constant right hand on the nagging electronic device in my back pocket -- became a convenience. Rather than shuffling through papers to dis-confirm a dinner date, my forefinger swiped a gliding scroll of numbers and months until (as if by magic) that day of that week suddenly appeared. The next thing I knew I was trying to convince my resistant filofax-friends to join me on the other e-side, by disproving their arguments and relating to their fears (and blogging about it today) on a regular e-basis. Enjoy!

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On the Theory of Popularity

The Relativity of Reputations.

Designated popularity status is more often a reflection of the designatee's self-perception than the popular kid's actual deserv-ed reputation, and one that most of us (eventually) grow out of. And yet sizing up other people's appearances/attitudes/postures/ and intonations based on bats of eyelashes and subconscious facial expressions is part of our (human) nature, seeping into adulthood through the cracks of maturing self-confidence where one foot remains in the catty junior high school classroom of our youth. Enjoy!

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