I think it could have literally been the weather - the storm made me do it. I woke up on Saturday morning with a domestic urge. I wanted to bake. While the music was pumping and the eggs were frying, I arranged a chocolate chip walnut banana bread. It smelled wonderful and came out of the oven just as the rain ended. While the four inches of water was perfect for our parched lawns, the bread was not. There were no eggs in the bread, though the ones served at breakfast were divine, the banana bread was a low fat recipe and tasted just like that. A touch of jam gave it back it's sweetness but that's about it.

Come Sunday and a brand new Van Morrison CD I heated up the kitchen again. Three hours later Magoo and I turned out a pretty rocking meal and invited the girls over to sample and witness Sarah Silverman in all her raunchy glory. The food was good and her jokes were over the top. I peeled all the recipes off the Food Network website - adapting some to our needs including using none of the fat that Paula suggests. Wow that woman loves butter. We dabbled in mixing our own ideas into the pre-cut recipes and tried our hardest to remember what kind of modifications we made and what a 1/2 of a 1/4 is.

• At dinner on Saturday night we ordered a cucumber salad that was just perfect - light and savory. Inspired, I picked out this recipe from Wolfgang Puck - with more of an Asian flavor it was still delightful. We munched on it while we waited for Ashley to bring over the wine. I probably could've made that my meal.


• We also had a bunch of organic asparagus that needed to be used up and Magoo was itching to try out the new grill - even offering to grill our cereal. I declined the grilled Cherri-o's offer and instead picked out a grilled asparagus recipe from the man who runs the grilling world - Bobby Flay. It turned out wonderful - crisp, clean and spring-y with slightly melted fresh mozzarella giving it a little substance. Even served cold it worked well as an elegant side.
  
• A few months back while laid up from gum surgery I tortured myself by watching hours of cooking shows. I couldn't eat so I figured the second best thing was to look at all the good food. Paula made this salad that looked absolutely ridiculous and the crunch of the Ramen noodles enticed me since at that point the most I was crunching was tomato soup. I finally had the chance and desire to sample the recipe. It really was good - the broccoli and dressing were cheerful and simple. You gotta cut out the butter, oil, and sugar - there is no need for them and honestly it is more flavorful if you sub in some garlic and other seasonings. But still a great accompaniment to a dinner or served by itself as a lunch.
  
• Finally the reason the dinner existed in the first place was the grilled chicken. I told Magoo he was in charge of le chicken but he still insisted I pick out a recipe. We also wanted softer refreshing flavors to go with the excessive heat of the day. While the coriander turned out to be a bold taste the lime evened it out and gave the chicken a tasteful kick. Plus we got to use the limes picked from the tree in our yard. This made us ridiculously giddy and gave us a sense of home grown pride. The recipe called for chicken legs but we made out just fine with fillets - if I must say.

Plus now Magoo feels he sufficiently broke in the grill - so we decided next up are pizzas. Yeah I saw it on the Food Network this weekend, okay you figured me out. The next time a storm approaches or I just feel like standing in the kitchen for hours and having good friends, great food, and perfect music - we will fire it up. All in all I would say it was well played and enjoyed - you can see some of the results here.

**Does anyone know how to get Blogger to cooperate when using bullet points? They are driving me to stick a bullet point into my eye...

Labels: Everyday Life, Friends/Family

Meeting new people and spending time making new friends introduces you to their stories and ideas. You learn their mannerisms, ways they tell a story, eating preferences, and quirks about cleanliness and godliness. They have their experiences and passions and inside tips on housekeeping help. Which was crazy perfect timing on that front because just that morning Magoo told me that I needed to try to find one for us and there at lunch was one offered up. Also offered was crack. Well I didn't know it was crack at the time but it turns out it is a white substance that I would become addicted to. What is all sorts of wonderful is that it is here in Tampa and it is super accessible to me, for a few small bucks. Here it's called cali yogurt but elsewhere it is Pinkberry. Not exactly illicit but ooohhhh boy am I addicted. My crackberry. I have been three times in three days - since learning about its goodness from the other girls. Oh god it is a great combination of fresh, smooth, tart and just plain yum. I dragged Magoo there after tennis and sushi and asked him what makes it so good and he responded brilliantly that it was the yumminess. Deep in the crevice of the white paper bowels buried beneath the almond slivers, my topping of choice, was that exact ingredient. He was so very right and unfortunately as addicted as I. New friends have great ideas to share - even if they are crack filled.

Labels: Everyday Life, Friends/Family

My Mother Taught Me:

Labels: Friends/Family, Listing, Open Letters, P.S./Photography Sunday

I just got off the phone with a new old friend. I have accumulated lot of friends and most of them are considered to be old by now, you know like from childhood old or even college at this point. Because damn I met those guys 10 years ago. So this one, well he is a newer old friend. We worked together and now that I am gone, we have to test our friendship and put in the real effort to remain friends. So he called me to hold up his end of the bargain and told me he was exiting a day long workshop that our, scratch that, his firm puts on every year. We, again er, he is required to attend to meet and mingle and to do a few other law firm type things. But really it is eight hours in a Marriott that are better spent sticking snot in your eye, because it is just as pointless and equally as painful.

My first year at the conference I had just been dumped. As in four days before. I had the wounds of a newly single person fresh on me. A large conference room with nothing to do for eight hours was not the best environment for a person in my mental state. Really any mental state but others seemed to survive better than I. In those days I needed to stay busy and occupied or else I would think about him. Of course no windows and extreme boredom were no cure for that and I became crazy. So that evening when invited out I over served myself. Or maybe it was just that I had not been eating and had not been going out. He was boring and I put myself on the post break up diet routine. Involuntarily, but I did it. So to make myself feel more comfortable in a group of near strangers and to get over the mental torture I put myself through, I threw back a few Seven & Sevens. And then I got home and threw them all up. I literally made myself sick. I survived seven Mardi Gras without so much as a dry heave. But when life gives you a mind numbing seminar and a break up, you react the only way one should - you vomit three times and pass out. This was monumental at the time, because it had been ions since I upchucked. But I knew it was just my life making me sick and not the actual alcohol. And you know when your life makes you sick things are going pretty freaking well. That maybe you need to reevaluate and calm down. Put the bottle down and take a step back. Really think about your decisions.

So I did all that and decided to get back together with the fool a mere month later. I also decided that no one needed to know of this decision. Of course that is a whole other story. But as I told Shannon the other night, "You know it is a good relationship, when you have to keep it a secret." She totally agreed, "Yeah, this was the best secret relationship I have ever been in." And we both laughed over my mistakes and idiocy. But the thing is, and the conclusion we reached, was that no amount of discussion or prompting was going to change my mind about getting back with him. Clearly even my body rejecting yummy things like Seven & Seven was not going to teach me that lesson. Those are ideas you have to learn and mistakes you need to make on your own. Our friends cannot do it for us. That is the thing about bad relationships. We all get ourselves into them and count on our friends to help us out at the end of them, but the middle is where it gets sticky. We do those things to ourselves and will absolutely not hear it from anyone. Which is why I made that decision not to tell anyone. See if they don't know than they can't tell me all the bad things I am doing. Genius, pure genius. But really, I didn't want to hear it, not from any one and not from my friends. Which is why no matter how many friends you have, older, new or even older, there are certain things you need to do on your own. Even if they are riddled with mistakes. No matter how many friends you have or how well your friends know you, there are certain ideas and mistakes you need to endeavor on your own. It just does not matter what they have to say, you will go out on your limb, knowing they will be there to catch you and say not a word about the trip you just took.

I got this all from a ten minute conversation, but isn't that what friends are for? To remind you of all this and teach it to you one morsel at a time? They are there to keep you up to date, to laugh over your missteps and help you celebrate your now, new, old, blue or gold. They are there to help you remember your past, where you came from and where you are going, even if it is just to lunch on a Wednesday. Because really such plans are exactly how friends stay that way.

Labels: Friends/Family, Last Life

This past weekend Magoo and I road tripped it down to South Florida. We both grew up down there though literally it was a world apart. Our homes and lives were lived 50 miles apart, as he reached the outer branches of Broward and I was way the hell south Miami. His childhood saw open fields, horses, landscape, and chickens. We had traffic, 1/2 acres, city life and all things Miami. We spent the weekend intertwined between the two. Lounging with his brothers, sisters, nephews and parents and then drinking and eating with the Jewish folk of MIA. We squeezed in some time to visit my family too, Magoo swore we were in the Keys with the distance we drove south. This is a world where I-95 and I-75 both end, or begin if you want to be picky like that. Those who don't know also probably don't play but we enjoy games of Jewish geography. While this is reserved for, "do you know's" left over from camp or college, it works in other ways too. Waiting for our table at the bar on Sunday night meant running into high school friends. That is how it was in my Miami growing up. See how it was in Magoo's world. This may rock your vision of South Florida, I know it did mine. See here for my bored car shots and scenes from a South Florida neighborhood.

Labels: Friends/Family, P.S./Photography Sunday, Trips/Travel

You know me now, at least glimpses of my life, and you probably have images and ideas. But if you knew me then at all of 16, you would see a girl with Phish t-shirts, a grey Ford Taurus station wagon with dancing bears, and a propensity to listen to CSN&Y. We all have those phases. Well maybe not us all I guess others could be different. For my college roommate it was R&B. Go figure. But they are phases. They make up our younger selves and the basis of our older memories. They create a part of who we are today and speak to a side of us. I can never forget that was who I was as a happy go lucky high schooler. I had the best friends in the world, who I spent all my days with. We drank and smoked and sat around philosophizing about life and love. We played and studied. Those girls knew me and we acted as a unit. I saw myself aging this way with long grey braids and Birkenstocks, never thinking twice about growing up or moving on. I brought these ideas with me to college attaching the stickers to my dorm room wall. Like all things I slowly grew and changed. My music taste varied and my wardrobe expanded from used Levi's. So much for leather sandals at least ones with straps. But I have that memory with me still and I can hear Sugar Magnolia, Friend of the Devil, and China Cat Sunflower and feel wonderfully terrifically hippy peacy lovingly great about my self, my life and where I have been. Those girls and those days were gratefully memorable and I can recall it all as if it were yesterday.

Shannon went first recalling details of being at home. Summer break for our soon to be Junior selves. She was lying on her bed when her dad entered her room requesting all her Grateful Dead CD's. He told her of the news and as a tribute would be playing their tunes on loop all day at the restaurant he owned.

Magoo went next and recalled being in the moving in stages of his house as a soon to be freshman in college. It was his first days of life in Tampa. In the August heat of Florida he was unpacking and had the T.V. on. Though not a fan, he recollected the moment clearly as well.

I finished our trio of stories. I was in Chicago at a summer debate program, in the basement of a building at Northwestern learning fun facts about immigration law. Our instructor walked in and announced the news and then pronounced "Phish Phorever" in bold letters across the chalk board. Words too that did not survive - but that is a whole 'nother story.

Over large ass bowels of pasta at our local Mac Grill with paper table clothes, crayons, and Magoo and Shannon's drawing lessons, we discussed those younger days of our pasts. All things from those high school times; parties, music, laser light shows, and other assorted paraphernalia. That and the Dead and how we all remember where we were when Jerry died. As if it is our generations JFK. Though Jerry was not our generation, at least not initially. But that was over ten years ago and we all remember. Vividly. Even Magoo, who vowed that he did not listen, had a memory. Isn't it amazing how we can recall these details? How certain moments in time seem to be frozen and we can recollect the time of day, weather, smells and tastes. Was he that monumental to our music and society? Was it the culture he promulgated and the ideas that went with it? I am sure that this could be the case for others. But maybe for us it was just a vestige of our youth. I know where I was because I was happy and in love with my teenaged self. I was good at being 16 and I had not a care in the world. I spent the ins and outs of my days with my friends enjoying our leisure days. I may have been a pseudo hippy who had liberal notions, but I had beautifully happy high school days. I can taste that feeling, which may be why I can recollect that moment in time so well. And for that I am Grateful.

Labels: Friends/Family, Last Life

You've seen the commercial and it has pulled me in. I want to listen to it on loop. It says children, parents, mothers and fathers, sisters and love. It says wedding dances, camp, mix tapes and pyjamas. It is cozy, warm and comfortable on the sweltering days. It is belly laughs and chocolate. It is sofas, fleece, too much candy and toes. It is telephone calls, earrings, and diet coke. It reminds me of coffee, french braids, and board games played on the floor legs crossed and never cheating. It is everything we want and remember to hold onto. Our moment of now and all our growing up. It is all the good tingly sensations in the key of C.

In the chilly hours and minutes,
Of uncertainty, I want to be,
In the warm hold of your loving mind.

To feel you all around me,
And to take your hand, along the sand,
Ah, but I may as well try and catch the wind.

When sundown pales the sky,
I wanna hide a while, behind your smile,
And everywhere I'd look, your eyes I'd find.

For me to love you now,
Would be the sweetest thing, 'twould make me sing,
Ah, but I may as well, try and catch the wind.

When rain has hung the leaves with tears,
I want you near, to kill my fears
To help me to leave all my blues behind.

For standin' in your heart,
Is where I want to be, and I long to be,
Ah, but I may as well, try and catch the wind.

**The song is from a GE commercial and it is written by Donovan.

Labels: Friends/Family

In law school we had Sunday breakfasts. For many weekends on end we all brought food, coffee and a George Foreman to cook the bacon. Mmmm bacon. It was then that I learned the joys of the meaty goodness. We gathered early, by 9 am, to prepare, enjoy and catch Meet the Press, central time. We were a mixed bunch of right and left but we all agreed to shut it and eat, at least most of the time because who wants their eggs with a side of Ann Coulter? It really was meant to be a hearty home cooked meal and a social hour before the library. I then agreed to host the Easter one. This one was later, more relaxed, and involved the Masters, as Easters do.

This year I agreed to host Easter again with promises of delicious food, good company and of course green jackets. No one needed to rush off to study anymore. Plus we wanted to make use of our new space - when we first took a look, our initial thought was this would be great to entertain. So we did this past weekend - even if we were not quite entirely settled. I spent Saturday night busying around, cooking, cleaning and making good use of the camera. On the menu, many many bottles of champagne, fresh fruit, lemony asparagus, sweet and spicy bacon, quiche Lorraine and spinach quiche (store bought thank you very much), passion fruit sorbet and boozy baked french toast. All as delicious as billed and all recipes gently lifted from some of my favorite food blogs. So enjoy our Easter as much as we did and check out some shots of the new digs. You can view the set here.

Labels: Friends/Family, Last Life

I wrote this and minutes later my doorbell chimed. I peaked out and no one was there. I opened anyway and there were tulips. Sent from a dear true old friend. One who I met at the same time as the other, but whom I actually became and maintained a friendhisp with. By choice and not by circumstance. Who I have remained such even under circumstances. One of which passed not too long ago and that we were not too removed from dealing with. Though she still cared enough to send flowers. A quality we should all have in our friends and ourselves for that matter. But one I found he did not possess.

The bigger point is that I need to keep that in perspective. I do it all the time, not just with her. In a lot of my life and relationships. Forgetting the larger picture and living in the details. The moment of it all should not erase what has been done in the past, especially when it is voluminous. One time should not cost us the total love. We all fail. We all make mistakes. Some are unintentional. Which is equally as wrong and very difficult to swallow. But so long as those times happen with infrequency we can continue down the rose garden of friendship. It is when the wrongs out number the rights or they are just so wrong that we put the friendship down. At least we should. But that was not the case here. I just needed a drill to my mouth and a mystery doorman to remind me of it.

Labels: Friends/Family, Perspective

I have a sick day and a new friend helped me by sending some exercises.

***

We were not those kinds of friends that were considered us to be old. We considered ourselves to be good though. At least at one point. Having been there during a time when we both needed the company. It bonded us together until that necessity stopped needing. At least I learned that later. We pretended to continue to need, but we actually didn’t when we first met and we no longer do. So it has been easy to keep the grudge. It was my way of holding on and my way of taking control. As if admitting that our true friendship was gone. We had known each other for years before, never bridging a friendship. Not until we had to and then we needed to. So when those times passed it was not surprising the friendship ended with it.

I invited him to a party. I don’t have them for this reason. I can’t handle the rejection. The idea that no one will show up. That people will pass on something you are thrilled about wanting to do to; show off your home, your food and your love by inviting them in. And they say no. No to all of those things and no to your ego. Well he didn’t have to, he said yes. He just did not show up. Or call. Or apologize. Or call again. Not for several weeks at least. And then there was a failure to mention any of it. I was tremendously hurt. I put myself out there, and as my friend he agreed to it. By not showing, he showed me he failed to care. To even garner enough respect to cancel or apologize or make up a lame sickness excuse.

With him though I was not terribly surprised. This was not too far from his norm. I had come to expect this response. Which really was the problem, not the party. It is never really about the party is it? To me, it is not what friends were made of. But yet we maintained the pretense of a friendship, probably longer than we should have. So I held a grudge.

The truth was it had been dead for a long while for all those reasons. I could hold the grudge, but I was holding onto a long gone relationship. My way of ending something that was already on life support. This was my way of taking power over the situation and my feelings of loss, rejection and hurt. But his overall behavior that told me we were not going to remain friends. I couldn't do it with someone who didn't value me in that way. Didn't think about friendship in the way I try. Which is probably why were were not initial friends. Which was why this was never meant to be a long lasting one. Which was why were not supposed to be old friends. And why the grudge continues.

Labels: Friends/Family, Practice

An E-mail

eb.:Is there anything you want for your birthday?

Rebe: humm- dont know. maybe cooking classes- but i cant commit to a certain time because i have lots of traveling coming up. maybe a new pair of legs for running. the perfect man? what do you have in mind?

eb: I am not going to tell you. I just wanted to know if there was anything my credit card could buy for you - 'cuz I am not sure I have enough credit to buy legs and I don't know if there are perfect men and if there are whether he would accept visa.

Rebe: Alright, how about looser hamstrings. i bet those are cheaper than an entire set of new legs. i actually like my legs, i just wish they were faster. ooh- how about some run faster potion. i bet they sell that on red envelope.

eb: Yeah I saw a two for one sale on hamstrings. which is good b/c you probably need two right?

Rebe: I would say so

To My Dear Sister - Happy 25th Birthday.

Here is to a year of perfect men, better hamstrings and 'run faster potion'. May all your dreams come true.

Labels: Friends/Family

We all want to see her happy, so when she asks us to come to dinner to meet him, his first time in town, we all parade out. Happy to do so. Reservations for 11 at 7 at Lime. The place to see and been seen. And we did a good job. Hogging the space and noise for over three hours. Drinking, laughing and making new friends. Leaving dancing to Lionel Richie. They to continue the dance at a birthday party, us to another kind of dance, at home. A private party if you will. Ahem. Yeah and we liked him too. A lot. Forgetting that it was still the first time and accidentally asking important lawyer-like questions, "Are you moving here?" He gets an oh shit look on his face and I realize my mistake, making a joke. Though it is no longer my role as Magoo was coined, "the funniest man alive". I think so and was in love with that. In love with the whole thing. Margaritas may be talking. Oh and their table kegs. But that is love too. And yeah she was happy. Cheers.

To an entire weekend filled with wining and dining. That was just the start of the dance. So many reasons to celebrate, the first of which was making it to Friday. At times it seemed touch and go. The anxiety level was as loud as the music that night at Lime. Pounding in my ears like the base. But it was more than that, so much more. A ton of bricks more reasons to celebrate. Which led to an afternoon out at the docks. We swore it would only be one. But there we were 97 beers later and a slight buzz mingled with a sun burn. We were jolly as we pulled in, like a caravan, dancing around the yard. It is where love is coming to live and to grow. Not just hers, ours as well. We wrapped arms and pranced on the lawn. Celebrating. This is love and life, it was totally worth celebration and not in a dramatic kind of way. This was ours to cheer about.

We spent the last night with Oscar. Though he was not our main man. In fact I missed most of the Academy moments. Because the weekend was about meeting her man. And in his honor, a little girl's always and forever main man, her father whipped up his chefly creations, mom over serving white wine. Magoo's, repeated pleas for BBQ shrimp coming through. Now that is something to love. Delicis times 100. That and the kindness of friends and family. Both new and old and some to be added soon. Hopefully that is. I think his response would differ now, if I asked him again. But I dare not. We were having too good of a time. The easy conversation. The laughter filling the kitchen like the scents of filet, which was also heavenly. Oh and that blueberry Stilton cheese, I could've eaten the entire block. I think I tried to. Stories of long gone childhood pets and renovated kitchens. That is what we want to fill our glasses, memories, bellies and lives with. Those stories are the heart of family and the love the surrounds the trappings of a sparkling kitchen. They show that there has been a lifetime of children, sidewalks, peaches 'n cream desserts and friends. Really a lot of friends, when our families live anywhere but here. The night so truly was about that. The love created by new friends, extended family and anyone we were willing extend the love to. That and alcohol pouring easily. As it had done all weekend. As it always does. But isn't that what picture perfect weather and out of town guests are for? Because we are all in love, with something or someone. Or just a frame of mind. One where we embrace the good and positive of our lives and our situation. Squeezing glory out of every moment in the 48 hours. Because it was all worth celebrating. All worth dancing for. Cheers and cocktails with a slice of lime.

Labels: Everyday Life, Friends/Family

Sophie is a gentle seven year old lab-Airedale mix of a mutt adopted from the pound. She, since day one, has earned her old lady name and spent most of her life lounging and enjoying cookies. She loves and greets all animals, dogs, and humans and most likely would go home with you in exchange for a Milkbone. Bearing a resemblance to the Old Navy dog, she constantly brings in the praise for her beard and stands dutifully when petted and complimented. A calm, docile, and lovable creature.

That was until she met Ginger. Her sworn mortal enemy. She has come to believe that Ginger was sent here from the dog underworld to steal her cookies. In an effort to prevent such and insure that Ginger goes back to the hole she crawled out from, Sophie does everything in her four legged power to make her life miserable. As soon as Ginger steps foot into her home, she barks and prances and makes her dissatisfaction known. Sounds which we had not heard in the six years she lived with my parents. When walked together, Sophie pushes Ginger out of the way to make sure she gets in the door first and is granted the first cookie.

Though she is crafty and has figured out that Ginger possesses some redeemable qualities. Well really only one quality, but it is enough for the big lady. She learned that Ginger is more agile, smaller, and has a better nose as she is trained to sniff out garbage and hamburgers in a 50 mile radius. And she has learned that these qualities mean that Ginger will help her find the goods that she cannot find on her own. So while meandering down the street, because Sophie does not really walk per se, she will follow Ginger's nose to a scent or scrap. Once Ginger has sniffed it out, Sophie sticks her giant head in the way, pushing Ginger's 30 pound body aside and takes over. Never once thanking the Ging for her hard work. Easily enjoying the find and not once looking back.

On Thanksgiving, Ginger helped the family by cleaning out from underneath the couch where my dad collected cereal crumbs. As a nightly habit he cradles the cereal in his hands and inevitably leaves a trail behind between the cushions and under the sofa. Given Ginger's propensity to seek out such goodies and her ability to stick her nose and paw under the couch, she began declaring her fortune. Sophie, always diligent to Ginger's actions, immediately scampered over to see what treasure Ginger found her. Pushing Ginger aside she stuck her snout under the couch but quickly learned that her nose was too big and her paw too wide to gain the booty. Disappointed but not deterred, she made sure that no dog prevailed. She plopped her 70 pound body in front of the couch and lay there until she was thoroughly satisfied that Ginger had forgotten about the cereal find.

All of this Ginger takes in stride, often walking away with her tail between her legs agreeing to Sophie's bully tactics. She lets Sophie take full advantage and gracefully takes the second feeding and the second cookie. Allowing Sophie to reap the benefits of her snout's hard work. Knowing one day, at one point, she would figure out her revenge. And her chance came recently when she saw Sophie's pride and joy open and ready for business. Her bed. That had always been Sophies' and she knows to get in it with a simple instruction. She spends the entire night blissfully asleep cradled in the corner, snuggled with her blankets. However, this time the little Ging out smarted her and jumped on a golden opportunity. She took over and made herself at home before Sophie could make it upstairs. She knew what she was doing and she did it with a stealth smile. Leaving the big mama to sleep on the cold hard floor. Revenge is sweet, even if it is dog eat dog.

Labels: Friends/Family

Not like Britney and Kevin, but the word I would use to describe my life one year ago. Playing this game, I would say it was a sleep deprived anxiety induced heart palpitations chaotic. I had my one year, "I am a lawyer" review at work. And I had not idea what to expect, I had never been reviewed, at least not openly and to my face. And don't particularly like criticism. I feared the harshness of the words would lead to tears which would lead to embarrassment. Earlier that week I was at lunch with a new friend, when he offered a dinner and a plan for Saturday night. But I was planning on a trip to L.A., a real vacation. Not a day for laundry or one at the beach. This was vacation. Whole multiple days off from work basking in the glory of sunshiney movie stars. Two days before that transcontinental Delta flight, I learned my 93 year old grandfather had taken a turn for the worse. Flights off. We are on alert and Mom flew immediately to Montreal to be with the family. Instead of vacation, I could accept the dinner date extended earlier.

This was my first dinner, my first let's call it real date, with Magoo. Under the crazy pretense of a relative on his death bed. That Saturday night we dined, laughed, cried, and closed down the restaurant. I revealed in the first breath of the date that I hated basketball. He displayed his dismal sense of direction. Five days later I accepted a second date. In the interim, I also accepted an offer presented via IM at work, "Anyone want a beagle?". The message came through on a Tuesday morning, that a six year old beagle was up for adoption. This was how and when I came to meet Ginger. I lay awake those first few nights in a constant state of anxiety. Worried I would not be able to handle the responsibility of another creature. Worried she would commit the P trifecta; pee, poop and puke. But like all parents, you adjust and deal. 'Cuz yeah they all happen. I also stressed that he would not be a dog person and I just blew something by quickly adopting a dog in a matter of minutes. Then, I rationalized that I did not want to be with someone in the end who didn't like dogs. I had dogs in my future, so if you too wanted to be in the future, you too must love dogs. Just like the movie. Seemed simple but stress can play cruel tricks on your psyche and your heart. Mine raced and pounded out of my chest every night for a week. Pure sleep deprived chaos.

Date two. He learned via e-mail that there has been an addition to the family. Instead of flowers or candy he showed up at the door with a dog toy, a squeaky basketball. A present for her and a joke for me. Clever. I love clever especially in gift giving, it shows smarts and heart. And he had me at the squeak. Again, we close the place down while downing five too many classes of Sangria. Small plates of tapas and not so small talk. This was the real deal. After the chairs had been stacked on the tables and the staff swept the floor around us, we return to what is now our home to walk the dog together arm and arm, buzzed from the wine. Within the next week, my grandfather passes away. That la la la L.A. vacation turned into a week long trip to snow bound Montreal. Not the glam trip planned, but a necessary family event and a fact of life. He lived a hearty loving life, to an age we can all hope for, in good health for a majority of those years, accompanied down the road of life by his wife of fifty some odd years. A celebration of his life and not a mourning. All the time, awaiting for me at home was a new man, who diligently dog sat a dog he barely knew for a girl he may have liked.

Many sleepless night were had during those four weeks. The review was less than stellar, causing more panic and a fresh set of tears, both in an out of the office. I swore to Magoo life was not always this way. He made it through that time, including crying at that first dinner and urine on his carpet (Ginger's, not mine). And here we are one year later. Ginger still pees and I have a pesky review right around the corner. Somethings never change. We move on and in together. Holding and helping each other through it all. At least that is the idea. Since there is always going to be something chaotic. But we have each other and maybe that is where the chaos lives. We just learn to manage and control. Wheel and deal. Whine and dine. Coping is what draws us together and the chaos finds a home on the couch cushions next to the pillows and the hand knit throw. It lives there dormant and cozy. Controlled by the balance, waiting to appear again when the timing is not right. We just hope there are less tears.

Labels: Friends/Family, Last Life, Mr. Magoo

During our brief holiday we stopped into Holiday. I have not been that slap happy in a movie for a long time. It is just wonderful sitting in the confines of the theater, relaxed, with a ridiculous movie plot and a happy ending. The Breakup wasn't funny because, well, there is nothing funny about breaking up. It could have been the two glasses of Pinot Grigio at lunch that added to the awe. But the Christmas music and the sappy love story had me in smiles. Warm comfy smiles that make me want to buckle in for a long evening of movie watching. Underneath a blanket with the fan on high (remember it is still 80). All cozy and half asleep, hearing the rain on the window and letting the buzz wear off. And that is when I come home to my parents house to find The Sound of Music playing in the background. Bingo. Nothing better then a rendition of These are a Few of My Favorite Things. Has me humming along, smiling sweetly and ready for couch time and an early bed time.

Aside from the Holiday today was nothing close. Ginger vomited times three. A flood in the guest room and a broken cell phone. How un-happy and non-holiday. No one wants to deal with any of those on a Saturday during the holidays. No one wants to deal with those, ever. I want to crawl under the sheets and whine. Except that it smells like puke and you know that the day has begun all around you. So much for a happy holiday. Suddenly I am the Grinch and someone stole my Christmas. The scrooge was here too. None were welcome and hopefully both are long gone.

As the weekend is a long one, so is the time to recover. That is how we holiday-ed. There are more movies to come. More wine to be drunk. Another round of baking. To add sweet and yummy to our holiday plans. Definitely more sleep. The festivities have lasted since the first of the month and have a full week's worth of party left in them. I plan to drive by the lighted displays of the fabulous houses. We will hit the theaters again on Monday with the Jews, and others escaping their homes. There are invitations to Christmas day treats. And lest we forget the glow of the New Year. Many more occasions to be happy. There is a lot more holiday left. A happy and healthy to all.

Labels: Friends/Family

I didn't win this, and I didn't win in November either. My mother has phenomenal luck at random drawings; recently snagging a $450 Furla bag in an online contest. At her lunch hour she entered her e-mail and three weeks later the UPS man delivered the package to her door. This was not the first time such luck smiled down on her. Though we share the same eye color and skin tone, she did not pass on her winning streak gene.

I do feel like a winner though. And isn't that what counts? I have a wonderful partner who is eager to please, a rock of support, willing to jam out in the car to Styx (....Thank You Very Much Mr. Roboto, Nah, Nah, Nah, Nah, Nah, Secret, Secret.....), and takes my bitchy moods one after the other. Last night we celebrated Chanukah and this morning Christmas. We dined on latkes and stuffed cabbage and he participated while the rest of the family and friends lit the candles and said the blessings. We agreed to one gift that night, in celebration of the Jewish holiday. Adorably, he got excited and asked to open all the rest. Like a kid at Christmas - literally. Even awaking at 3 a.m. to say, "Merry Christmas". I secretly hoped the rest of the gift exchange could wait to proper morning. And it did. So this morning over fruit, scones, and cider we sat on the floor, in our sleepwear, and pretended to be kids. Simulating Christmas on the wrong day, when it is 81 degrees outside. But it was the memory and the moment that counted, not what the calendar and thermometer dictated. We eagerly waited for each to open their gifts, taking turns one by one. I insisted it was done this way, so we can devote time to watch the other's expression as the present was revealed. It was all very sweet and it mattered not what was actually in the gift. Those boxes could have been empty or filled with small inexpensive trinkets. What mattered was there was someone to share it with. To show excitement to. Hoping they love it as much as you them. To have shopped for and planned for. Smiling while placing the credit card down, knowing they will just love the gift. To make new traditions, welcomed together with the old traditions, and to start the memory making process. Talk about being a winner.

Speaking of winning, how do you feel about the new do? Is it a winner? Feel free to share the good, the bad, and the ugly. I want to give thanks to a winner in my book, my superstar designer.

Labels: Friends/Family, Mr. Magoo

It is familiar dangerous territory. You wrap yourself into their lives so quickly. You become folded together, in an instant. I just don't understand how it happens. How you find men who are willing to play the insta-relationship game with you. One meeting and I am your girlfriend. Parents introduced, keys exchanged and lives sewn together in a matter of weeks. The pattern is the same. All of it down, to the bitter end. Because it always ends.

I am not trying to be harsh, critical or pessimistic. But it has to end. Too much too soon, becomes problematic for just that reason. There is a necessity to the slow and getting-to-know. First dates are special because of the newness and excitement. First kisses, first nights together, first everythings.

Jumbling it all together loses the excitement that is specially reserved for each moment. It is all exciting (probably even more so given the volume) but it is all over at once. The rush ends quickly without the accompanying base. Once the new wears off, there is nothing left there, since a foundation was not structured. Maybe there was never a real like, just the lust of the new. The whole package deal of excitement was enough to sustain the relationship and that was what's initially craved. That kept the glue together. Once the heat wears out, the glue melts and the entire package opens up and falls apart. Your feelings strewn about.

Because with the newness and excitement you gave your entire self. You had to. It is part of the pattern and how one enters into an insta-relationship. Your life halts, to contribute and consume in the depths of the man. Waist high deep in his life, openly neglecting yours. Once it is over, you are too. It takes muddy work boots and a crane to extract that mess. If only.......things moved slower, there would be more time to assess your true feelings, how you two really interact and if it is a good idea to move in together after the 3rd date. With time comes perspective and clarity. Moving quickly erases those functions and means you are 10 steps ahead of what is safe and sane. Not only have you moved fast but you have dug in deep, it is relationship quick sand. That is why it is dangerous.

It is why the warp speed dating machine is a crash toy waiting to implode. I am not jealous or resentful. I wish all well. But women are prone to do this with their relationships. We give, give, give to men. Their lives become ours. We cling quickly to avoid loneliness and boredom and to feel wanted, sexy, and attractive. We all want those things and ten times more. Really we deserve all those things. But there is a practice and procedure and it is there for a reason; it is necessary. It is how we know those things are genuine and not fabricated. That does not come from forcing it's hand. Relationships take time and are not all give and push. We need that time to develop, grow and learn. From each other, from our mates, and about us. To plow it all into an accelerated pace ruins the intended effect. It is impossible to do it, and to me, that is why it all ends inevitably. That is why it is so dangerous.

Labels: Breathing, Friends/Family

Labels: Friends/Family

We sent mom off for a relaxation massage and she threw in a manicure. It was an extra birthday effort, a ladies day over the Holiday weekend. To make up for the failed effort in October. The cashmere was too small, she paid for the new one. The flowers were delivered and returned, re-delivered without the vase. The cake. Not sufficient for 60, not sufficient for mom. Today was spa time, shopping time, followed by tea.

In an older tradition we brave the black. It is not just that, it is not that bad. We are used to Miami malls. Where everyday is rude. It does not matter if it is black, red, green or blue. People push, elbow and jack parking spots. That's on a Wednesday morning. Central Florida is nothing, if not just good deals. In just over an hour, and just under $200, we bargained. Black patent pumps included. Words are not sufficient to describe my passion for patent; black, red, green or blue.

Tea time. In the late Autumn, we got a final taste of fall; raspberry tea, cranberry scones and flower cut cucumber sandwiches. There were chandeliers, table linens, bone china, flowered prints on napkins, plates and tea cups. All adorable and tasty. Perfectly dainty and lady like.

Now its time to walk it all off. Before turkey dinner part deux.

Labels: Friends/Family

My fathers signature is an R, followed by an extended line, ostensibly to signify the remainder of his first and last name. It is not legible and is meant to represent the remaining 16 letters in his name. I use to wonder and poke fun at it. It always struck me as weird, "No one can read that, it is a giant R, just write your name". I took so much pride in mine, it was a perfectly scripted, completely understood reflection of my entire name, even including the middle initial. It was never girly, no circle or heart "i"'s, but it was clear and neat. I was so the girl who practiced it, using my name or boys I liked at the time. I spent plenty a school hour writing and rewriting my signature. There were several variations of it. Then life happened. You buy a house and sign 67 mortgage documents. You begin writing checks, seemingly to everyone and everything. You work at a law firm where every piece of paper has to have a name, often yours even when you didn't draft the document yourself. The chicken scratch creeps in slowly. Your first name is replaced with an initial and a dot. Surely the last seven letters begin to form into a humpty-dumpty mush when all that is visible is an M and scrawl. It is not pretty at all. It is a reflection of life. Too busy to take the time to put in the effort for pretty. Too busy for a lot of things.

The thing is, the busier I become the more I want the pretty. I want to hide the busy. I want my hair to be perfectly dyed, my makeup to remain in place and cover up evidence of busy, those dark circles lining my eyes. I want my house to reflect the perfect decoration set out in Martha Stewart. I can't settle for plain jane; my snacks are even dressed up, toasted pita with goat cheese. I seem to think this covers the evidence of busy and over tired. It makes me happy to be surrounded by the neat, clean and fresh. Yet it takes a lot of effort; which is the irony. Is it worth all that effort? I let my handwriting slide, can I let the rest slide? I doubt it. I think those are the things that make me happy. They bring a small ounce of joy. Getting my hair dyed is a wonderful two hours of pampering. The pretty in my house make being in my house special and warm. If I wanted ugly, I would stay at work. Te he he. I appreciate the loveliness of it all that much more. I work that much harder to achieve it. Time and money poured into the pretty coffers. Goodness, it is difficult to maintain and perhaps the cost benefit analysis isn't there, but it does bring a smile to my face. The handwriting gets sloppy because there it is not worth it. The beautiful circles and perfectly detailed letters do not bring pleasure and are really utilitarian. Function over form on that one. So, I get it now, why an R can stand in for your name. My father is wise one. Scribbling the R frees up other time. Instead it means time devoted to pretty-ing up the rest of your life. Your home, your self and your family. Those things make you smile; they deserve to be pretty.

Labels: Everyday Life, Friends/Family