Tonight is movie night.
We all get to pick one. Ben picked Charlie Chaplin's The Great Dictator. He loves Charlie Chaplin and has a bunch of his DVD's.
I love this film. It's hilarious and tragic. What a genius Charlie Chaplin was and how brave to put this anti-war anti-facist film out in 1939/40.
Rent it if you get a chance.
p.s. Jiminy Glick (Martin Short's film is hilarious!!! Another must see flick)
Friday, February 24, 2006
Thursday, February 16, 2006
What - ever!
Well I got tagged. And frankly, I could use a little girly good cheer in my life right now. Here it goes:
Four Jobs I've had in my life:
Fundraiser
Waitress
Legislative Aide
Public Radio Project Coordinator
Four Movies I can watch over and over again:
The Unbearable Lightness of Being
Broadway Danny Rose
The Right Stuff
Cinema Paradiso
Age of Innocence, Being There, Harold and Maude, Laurel Canyon, Moonstruck, Rear Window
I could list dozens more.....
Four Places I've lived
New York City
Cambridge, Massachusetts
Amherst, Massachusetts
Baltimore, Maryland
Four TV shows I love to watch
a little boy, a big husband, a dog, a writing project, a full time job, going to the gym, housework, cooking, reading = no tv
Four Places I've been on vacation
Truro, Massachusetts
Paris, France
Merin County, California
Charleston, South Carolina
Four of my favorite food/drinks
Champagne
Filet Mignon
a big fat juicy ripe plum
NYC pizza (great when you're pregnant) and tuna melts
anything my Italian grandmother cooked for me
Four websites I visit daily
Google
My job's website
thecosmicpath.com (because I studied astrology for a while but got into a time crunch)
nytimes.com
Four places I'd rather be right now
In a stone cottage, sitting in front of a fireplace, warming my feet and reading a book.
In a cozy house in Northern California finishing my writing project
In a town house in Brooklyn/Manhattan/Hoboken that I OWNED
In an elegant hotel room in Paris having fun with my very silly husband
Four Jobs I've had in my life:
Fundraiser
Waitress
Legislative Aide
Public Radio Project Coordinator
Four Movies I can watch over and over again:
The Unbearable Lightness of Being
Broadway Danny Rose
The Right Stuff
Cinema Paradiso
Age of Innocence, Being There, Harold and Maude, Laurel Canyon, Moonstruck, Rear Window
I could list dozens more.....
Four Places I've lived
New York City
Cambridge, Massachusetts
Amherst, Massachusetts
Baltimore, Maryland
Four TV shows I love to watch
a little boy, a big husband, a dog, a writing project, a full time job, going to the gym, housework, cooking, reading = no tv
Four Places I've been on vacation
Truro, Massachusetts
Paris, France
Merin County, California
Charleston, South Carolina
Four of my favorite food/drinks
Champagne
Filet Mignon
a big fat juicy ripe plum
NYC pizza (great when you're pregnant) and tuna melts
anything my Italian grandmother cooked for me
Four websites I visit daily
My job's website
thecosmicpath.com (because I studied astrology for a while but got into a time crunch)
nytimes.com
Four places I'd rather be right now
In a stone cottage, sitting in front of a fireplace, warming my feet and reading a book.
In a cozy house in Northern California finishing my writing project
In a town house in Brooklyn/Manhattan/Hoboken that I OWNED
In an elegant hotel room in Paris having fun with my very silly husband
Monday, February 13, 2006
Snow Job
By now most of the country has heard that NYC had its biggest snow storm on record.
Twenty-six inches of snow fell on Central Park.
We certainly did get tons of snow. It was and is a beautiful sight to behold. I love how snow storms quiet the city down...especially at night.
I was amazed at how well the city handled the weather. Streets were ploughed and there were no disasters to speak of. As a matter of fact, everything was so dam manageable that I began to silently wonder whether it actually snowed as much as they said it did.
I was listening to the radio this evening while baking cookies for my son's school lunches...yes..I am a dork. I nearly burst out laughing when they aired a feature that was composed of New Yorkers openly rejecting the fact that it was a record breaking snow fall.
Sample: "Look...I'm not saying it didn't snow 26 inches in Central Park but it sure as heck didn't here in the middle of the street in Brooklyn...maybe 18 inches tops."
I love New York.
Twenty-six inches of snow fell on Central Park.
We certainly did get tons of snow. It was and is a beautiful sight to behold. I love how snow storms quiet the city down...especially at night.
I was amazed at how well the city handled the weather. Streets were ploughed and there were no disasters to speak of. As a matter of fact, everything was so dam manageable that I began to silently wonder whether it actually snowed as much as they said it did.
I was listening to the radio this evening while baking cookies for my son's school lunches...yes..I am a dork. I nearly burst out laughing when they aired a feature that was composed of New Yorkers openly rejecting the fact that it was a record breaking snow fall.
Sample: "Look...I'm not saying it didn't snow 26 inches in Central Park but it sure as heck didn't here in the middle of the street in Brooklyn...maybe 18 inches tops."
I love New York.
Wednesday, February 08, 2006
Revelation
Something you should know about me.
Until a few years ago I spent most of my life fending off a nasty streak of melancholy. I did however develop a few tactics along the way that helped me avoid total despair.
I've always enjoyed hearing about good things happening for people. Somehow it's always energized me. A buoy to hold onto until I was ready to swing into life again.
The last few weeks have been tough for me. Work stuff, family stuff, figuring out the future stuff...well let's just say 4 am was becoming the new wake up and stay up time.
On Monday, a good friend took the time to listen to me for twenty minutes as I tried to piece together my scattered thoughts over the phone at work. We didn't come up with any grand solutions. But I was heard. The next day I woke up having slept through the whole night. Very lucky to have that friend.
A blog friend of mine, a very lovely, funny young woman spent the last year doing battle with breast cancer. She was generous and brave enough to share her experiences with us. I've learned so much from her decisions, her fear, her courage, her strength and her sense of humor through it all.
Well it looks like her treatments are over and the pathology reports have stamped her cancer free! I'm so friggin happy. I feel like I'm back in third grade and it's the first day of spring when everything is soggy, messy and filled with hope and possibility.
Until a few years ago I spent most of my life fending off a nasty streak of melancholy. I did however develop a few tactics along the way that helped me avoid total despair.
I've always enjoyed hearing about good things happening for people. Somehow it's always energized me. A buoy to hold onto until I was ready to swing into life again.
The last few weeks have been tough for me. Work stuff, family stuff, figuring out the future stuff...well let's just say 4 am was becoming the new wake up and stay up time.
On Monday, a good friend took the time to listen to me for twenty minutes as I tried to piece together my scattered thoughts over the phone at work. We didn't come up with any grand solutions. But I was heard. The next day I woke up having slept through the whole night. Very lucky to have that friend.
A blog friend of mine, a very lovely, funny young woman spent the last year doing battle with breast cancer. She was generous and brave enough to share her experiences with us. I've learned so much from her decisions, her fear, her courage, her strength and her sense of humor through it all.
Well it looks like her treatments are over and the pathology reports have stamped her cancer free! I'm so friggin happy. I feel like I'm back in third grade and it's the first day of spring when everything is soggy, messy and filled with hope and possibility.
Friday, February 03, 2006
Big Mama Calls It Quits!
Benjamin will be eight years old in March.
I finally feel that time has come to retire as the resident "bad guy".
Ever since Ben could run around in the Tompkins Square Park, I've been routinely called upon to be the creature/villian/space alien who chases my little son and his friends around the playground as they squeal with excitement. Up and over monkey bars, swings, slides, black tops, lurking behind trees....
I want to retire from being
the Monster
Darth Vader
the Joker/Riddler/Cat Woman/Mr. Freeze
the Scarey Ghost
the Confederate Army (sorry southern friends)
the Central Powers (WWI)
the Axis Powers (WWII)
and of course "Big Mama", my persona when wrestling Ben on my bed while he pretends to be Mucha Lucha - the Mexican Wrestling Champ (as seen on Cartoon Network) with a red/white/blue leather wrestling mask brought from Mexico from his dear Uncle Mike...
well maybe we'll still wrestle as long as I can get him in a head vice 50% of the time.
I suppose I shouldn't complain - my husband has put in a million more villian hours than I have without complaint. Maybe it's just me. I've got bad guy burn out.
I finally feel that time has come to retire as the resident "bad guy".
Ever since Ben could run around in the Tompkins Square Park, I've been routinely called upon to be the creature/villian/space alien who chases my little son and his friends around the playground as they squeal with excitement. Up and over monkey bars, swings, slides, black tops, lurking behind trees....
I want to retire from being
the Monster
Darth Vader
the Joker/Riddler/Cat Woman/Mr. Freeze
the Scarey Ghost
the Confederate Army (sorry southern friends)
the Central Powers (WWI)
the Axis Powers (WWII)
and of course "Big Mama", my persona when wrestling Ben on my bed while he pretends to be Mucha Lucha - the Mexican Wrestling Champ (as seen on Cartoon Network) with a red/white/blue leather wrestling mask brought from Mexico from his dear Uncle Mike...
well maybe we'll still wrestle as long as I can get him in a head vice 50% of the time.
I suppose I shouldn't complain - my husband has put in a million more villian hours than I have without complaint. Maybe it's just me. I've got bad guy burn out.
Wednesday, February 01, 2006
Wednesday
I've been thinking about how disconnected I've become to my neighborhood in the last month or two. Maybe it's the holidays that threw me off.
Waiting for the M8 bus to take me across the Village, my mind is so absorbed lately in work, family issues, and a manuscript that floats in limbo.
I woke up this morning at 4 a.m. and couldn't fall back to sleep. I must have woken my son because moments later he asked me in a faint voice to come cuddle with him. As soon as I slipped into his little bed, he fell fast asleep.
It felt good to be useful. To be able to soothe him even though I felt anxious. Soon I fell asleep too. My child is such a blessing to me.
It's beautiful out today. In the high 30's, sunny and clear. Time to get back in the saddle and ride my ancient red bike around the neighborhood as I run errands.
Waiting for the M8 bus to take me across the Village, my mind is so absorbed lately in work, family issues, and a manuscript that floats in limbo.
I woke up this morning at 4 a.m. and couldn't fall back to sleep. I must have woken my son because moments later he asked me in a faint voice to come cuddle with him. As soon as I slipped into his little bed, he fell fast asleep.
It felt good to be useful. To be able to soothe him even though I felt anxious. Soon I fell asleep too. My child is such a blessing to me.
It's beautiful out today. In the high 30's, sunny and clear. Time to get back in the saddle and ride my ancient red bike around the neighborhood as I run errands.
Monday, January 30, 2006
You do the math
My son's tuition just went up to $24,995....better known as $25,000.
He will be entering third grade next year.
You do not want to know what percentage of our post tax income that tuition figure absorbs.
We received his report card last week. He did very well although sometimes during lessons he rests a book on his lap and starts to read when he gets bored.
He is seven years old and every other word out of his mouth is "fart".
He wears a WWII fighter pilot hat (brown leather with fleece lining) at all times.
Somehow I still feel this is money well spent on a beautiful mind.
He will be entering third grade next year.
You do not want to know what percentage of our post tax income that tuition figure absorbs.
We received his report card last week. He did very well although sometimes during lessons he rests a book on his lap and starts to read when he gets bored.
He is seven years old and every other word out of his mouth is "fart".
He wears a WWII fighter pilot hat (brown leather with fleece lining) at all times.
Somehow I still feel this is money well spent on a beautiful mind.
Thursday, January 19, 2006
Spring Fever
The weather is unseasonably warm here in the East Village. It's tricking me into feeling hopeful.
It's March weather.
March
...the time of year for every trip I ever took to London or Paris
...the beginning of lacrosse practice when I was a teenager
...the month my son was born
...watching and (better yet) marching in the crazy NYC St. Patrick's Day Parade
...the smell of soggy earth, windy days and intermittent sunshine
...a time of possibilities and start overs and the official dawning of SPRING FEVER when I fall in love with everything and everyone
I'm sure the artic winds are just around the corner waiting to slap some sense into me.
It's March weather.
March
...the time of year for every trip I ever took to London or Paris
...the beginning of lacrosse practice when I was a teenager
...the month my son was born
...watching and (better yet) marching in the crazy NYC St. Patrick's Day Parade
...the smell of soggy earth, windy days and intermittent sunshine
...a time of possibilities and start overs and the official dawning of SPRING FEVER when I fall in love with everything and everyone
I'm sure the artic winds are just around the corner waiting to slap some sense into me.
Monday, January 16, 2006
First Love
Shortly before Christmas I spent several days in Boston on business.
Although I am firmly rooted in my hometown, Massachusetts will always feel like my first love. I spent my entire young adulthood there - - all over the state at different times. It was a warm and welcoming place to be for a good natured and somewhat audacious young me.
My best friend in world history lives there. His name is Joe. We were both 20 when I asked him to join me as I walked away from everything and everyone I knew to begin a life of my own making up in Boston. He understood how profoundly on my own I was without me having to spell it out.
Joseph and I met in third grade. We started a discussion that began with the Partridge Family's "Up to Date" record and has continued now for thirty-five years.
He walked me down the aisle when I married my husband in the old Unitarian Church in Harvard Square. Right before we made our grand entrance, he took both my hands, looked into my eyes and said "I have cherished every moment of being your friend - never never forget that".
We've shared countless moments together. Some hilarious, some tragic, some difficult but mostly silly moments.
So I skipped the hotel and stayed with him in Cambridge. It was wonderful. We went to the Rustic Grill in Porter Square - it was warm, cozy and delicous. Living in New York, you tend to forget how friggin whip ass cold that Boston wind can be. You also forget that a "short walk home" in New York is about half the distance of a short walk home on a FREEZING night in Boston.
To make matters worse, on the way home from dinner Joe made me laugh so hard I peed in my pants....literally. Try that one on for size when it's 16 degrees out.
That night I feel asleep in his guest room. It was the best sleep I've had in years. I felt so safe and lucky to be in a room next to my oldest and dearest friend.
Although I am firmly rooted in my hometown, Massachusetts will always feel like my first love. I spent my entire young adulthood there - - all over the state at different times. It was a warm and welcoming place to be for a good natured and somewhat audacious young me.
My best friend in world history lives there. His name is Joe. We were both 20 when I asked him to join me as I walked away from everything and everyone I knew to begin a life of my own making up in Boston. He understood how profoundly on my own I was without me having to spell it out.
Joseph and I met in third grade. We started a discussion that began with the Partridge Family's "Up to Date" record and has continued now for thirty-five years.
He walked me down the aisle when I married my husband in the old Unitarian Church in Harvard Square. Right before we made our grand entrance, he took both my hands, looked into my eyes and said "I have cherished every moment of being your friend - never never forget that".
We've shared countless moments together. Some hilarious, some tragic, some difficult but mostly silly moments.
So I skipped the hotel and stayed with him in Cambridge. It was wonderful. We went to the Rustic Grill in Porter Square - it was warm, cozy and delicous. Living in New York, you tend to forget how friggin whip ass cold that Boston wind can be. You also forget that a "short walk home" in New York is about half the distance of a short walk home on a FREEZING night in Boston.
To make matters worse, on the way home from dinner Joe made me laugh so hard I peed in my pants....literally. Try that one on for size when it's 16 degrees out.
That night I feel asleep in his guest room. It was the best sleep I've had in years. I felt so safe and lucky to be in a room next to my oldest and dearest friend.
Monday, December 19, 2005
Happy Holidays!
My tree is up. I'm blasting the Christmas music. Life feels very nice.
So I've been chatting with my writing mentor who HIGHLY suggests that I focus on my manuscript and less on the dozens of diversions I've created to avoid doing so.
Time for a blog sabbatical.
I may not post for a long time but I promise to keep up with all of the wonderful bloggers I've come to know these past five months. Yes folks, I will drown you with comments so be prepared!
I wish you all love, peace, laughter and good health in 2006 and beyond.
much love, east village idiot.
So I've been chatting with my writing mentor who HIGHLY suggests that I focus on my manuscript and less on the dozens of diversions I've created to avoid doing so.
Time for a blog sabbatical.
I may not post for a long time but I promise to keep up with all of the wonderful bloggers I've come to know these past five months. Yes folks, I will drown you with comments so be prepared!
I wish you all love, peace, laughter and good health in 2006 and beyond.
much love, east village idiot.
Saturday, December 10, 2005
Girls Rule
Today I went to buy a gift for a nine year old girl I will never meet.
I'm contributing to a Christmas gift program at my son's school that gives gifts to poor Asian children in Chinatown. One of the girls drew an angel and signed it "girl, age 9".
I spent hours roaming all the aisles of the toy department. Looking for that perfect gift for a stranger. I know there are other people who grab anything and dump it in the box at school but that kind of karma makes me sick.
I come from a half baked catholic background so I believe if I take a lot time to pick just the right gift - maybe I'll make that girl really happy.
So I bought this craft thing called Flower Power/Lightastic. You create these flower arrangements by mixing and matching different petals and leaves that come in all different colors. The flowers are plugged into a psychedelic looking flower pot that lights them up electrically. The flowers glow in your room all night - if you want them to.
More reasons why I like Flower Power:
1. It glimmery and glowy which is good for a nine year old girl. She doesn't have many more girlyhood days ahead of her.
2. You can keep on changing it into different flowers and colors so it doesn't end with your first design.
I'll never forget the day when I stopped playing with my 1973 Malibu Barbie. I loved her and her cool camper. I used to pretend she was a lead singer in a rock band and in the French resistance at the same time.
I just remember holding her in my hands and looking at her cool 70's clothes and wanting desperately to feel that same thrill I got as I revved up for our next adventure. The empty feeling was scary and sad for me.
Somehow I knew it was the beginning of the end of my childhood.
I'm contributing to a Christmas gift program at my son's school that gives gifts to poor Asian children in Chinatown. One of the girls drew an angel and signed it "girl, age 9".
I spent hours roaming all the aisles of the toy department. Looking for that perfect gift for a stranger. I know there are other people who grab anything and dump it in the box at school but that kind of karma makes me sick.
I come from a half baked catholic background so I believe if I take a lot time to pick just the right gift - maybe I'll make that girl really happy.
So I bought this craft thing called Flower Power/Lightastic. You create these flower arrangements by mixing and matching different petals and leaves that come in all different colors. The flowers are plugged into a psychedelic looking flower pot that lights them up electrically. The flowers glow in your room all night - if you want them to.
More reasons why I like Flower Power:
1. It glimmery and glowy which is good for a nine year old girl. She doesn't have many more girlyhood days ahead of her.
2. You can keep on changing it into different flowers and colors so it doesn't end with your first design.
I'll never forget the day when I stopped playing with my 1973 Malibu Barbie. I loved her and her cool camper. I used to pretend she was a lead singer in a rock band and in the French resistance at the same time.
I just remember holding her in my hands and looking at her cool 70's clothes and wanting desperately to feel that same thrill I got as I revved up for our next adventure. The empty feeling was scary and sad for me.
Somehow I knew it was the beginning of the end of my childhood.
Wednesday, December 07, 2005
Mommyhood - Do Over
One of the drawbacks of working really hard to raise a son who is healthy, enveloped in unconditional love, optimistic and curious about life is that......
HE ENDS UP BEING A LOT MORE TOGETHER AT THE AGE OF 7 THAN I AM AT THE AGE OF 43!!!
For instance, today Ben would not get out of bed. He got dressed in bed. He ate his breakfast and went back to bed. He washed his face and brushed his teeth then returned to bed to read. That's great when it's Saturday. But when it's bloody Wednesday morning and we've got three minutes to catch a crosstown bus to the westiest western part of west village - mommy get's a little uptight.
Suddenly I heard myself shouting right at him "Benjamin - get your ass out of bed right now!!!"
Now I don't curse at Ben and I don't scream at him at pointblank range. But I did both. He was startled and so was I.
Frightened, he jumped out of bed - stood right in my face and said "I'm sorry that I was in bed but is that how it is now? That you use the A-S-S word and shout in my face? Huh? Is that right?" He started to get all trembly and teary eyed.
Instead of scolding him, I scared him.
I know what it's like to be bullied as a child and it makes me sick to think I even came close to bullying my own child.
I hugged him and apologized - while reiterating my frustration with his behavior. We joked and went on with our day.
Ugh. I hate when that happens because I know that's not me. It's a memory. And sometimes memories just flick on like light switches. Luckily they can be flicked off too.
HE ENDS UP BEING A LOT MORE TOGETHER AT THE AGE OF 7 THAN I AM AT THE AGE OF 43!!!
For instance, today Ben would not get out of bed. He got dressed in bed. He ate his breakfast and went back to bed. He washed his face and brushed his teeth then returned to bed to read. That's great when it's Saturday. But when it's bloody Wednesday morning and we've got three minutes to catch a crosstown bus to the westiest western part of west village - mommy get's a little uptight.
Suddenly I heard myself shouting right at him "Benjamin - get your ass out of bed right now!!!"
Now I don't curse at Ben and I don't scream at him at pointblank range. But I did both. He was startled and so was I.
Frightened, he jumped out of bed - stood right in my face and said "I'm sorry that I was in bed but is that how it is now? That you use the A-S-S word and shout in my face? Huh? Is that right?" He started to get all trembly and teary eyed.
Instead of scolding him, I scared him.
I know what it's like to be bullied as a child and it makes me sick to think I even came close to bullying my own child.
I hugged him and apologized - while reiterating my frustration with his behavior. We joked and went on with our day.
Ugh. I hate when that happens because I know that's not me. It's a memory. And sometimes memories just flick on like light switches. Luckily they can be flicked off too.
Saturday, December 03, 2005
Am I doing this right?
I think I got tagged the other day by a blogger I really like. I don't spend enough time in the blog world to understand all the customs and rituals - so I'm not sure if I'm supposed to respond on my blog or leave a comment on hers. Guess I'll do it here.
Ten Weird and Random Facts about Myself
1. It takes a lot for me to think something is weird.
2. I don't think anything in life is random even when we think it is.
3. I've met Willem Dafoe, Paul O'Neill (former Yankee) and now need only to meet Christian Bale for my "hot hot hottie" hat trick to be complete.
4. I act like an A Type personality but I am a profoundly B Type personality inside.
5. I am a writer and I choose not to discuss my work on my blog - - admire people who do though.
6. I believe in the inherent goodness of every human being.
7. But I think we live in a culture that fears and is hateful to women.
8. I have no fear of any spider or bug -- but I will f*ckin' freak out if you put me in the same room with a snake of any size.
9. I love flowers and gardening.
10. I wish I could have had more children. Guess I still might be able to get one under the wire.
Ten Weird and Random Facts about Myself
1. It takes a lot for me to think something is weird.
2. I don't think anything in life is random even when we think it is.
3. I've met Willem Dafoe, Paul O'Neill (former Yankee) and now need only to meet Christian Bale for my "hot hot hottie" hat trick to be complete.
4. I act like an A Type personality but I am a profoundly B Type personality inside.
5. I am a writer and I choose not to discuss my work on my blog - - admire people who do though.
6. I believe in the inherent goodness of every human being.
7. But I think we live in a culture that fears and is hateful to women.
8. I have no fear of any spider or bug -- but I will f*ckin' freak out if you put me in the same room with a snake of any size.
9. I love flowers and gardening.
10. I wish I could have had more children. Guess I still might be able to get one under the wire.
Tuesday, November 29, 2005
Nighthawks
For the last few days Brian and I have been discussing who Ben should live with if something (God forbid) should every happen to us.
It is our most dreaded topic because no one immediately comes to mind as THE ONE or THE FAMILY among our relatives.
In an abstract sort of way I posed the question to Ben. It went something like this...
"Ben, who would you want to live with if mommy and daddy were not around. NOT THAT THAT WILL EVER HAPPEN BECAUSE IT WILL NEVER HAPPEN. But just say, if you had to live with someone else - who comes to mind as your number one choice? NOT THAT THAT WILL EVER HAPPEN BECAUSE IT WILL NEVER HAPPEN."
He sat there for a minute and thought about it. His first response was "Oh, I don't know mommy. Some nice family with children and a dog who are really nice."
When I asked him for a specific family or person he said he needed some time to think about it. Ten minutes later he returned to the room and said,
"Edward Hopper"
"What about Edward Hopper?"
"I've thought about it. And that is the exact person I want to live with if something happens to you and daddy. He loves to paint and I love to paint. He paints New York and Cape Cod and I paint New York and Cape Cod. He paints pictures of everyday things like warehouses and that's what I want to paint. Just everyday things and he makes them beautiful"
Sometimes my son freaks me out.
It is our most dreaded topic because no one immediately comes to mind as THE ONE or THE FAMILY among our relatives.
In an abstract sort of way I posed the question to Ben. It went something like this...
"Ben, who would you want to live with if mommy and daddy were not around. NOT THAT THAT WILL EVER HAPPEN BECAUSE IT WILL NEVER HAPPEN. But just say, if you had to live with someone else - who comes to mind as your number one choice? NOT THAT THAT WILL EVER HAPPEN BECAUSE IT WILL NEVER HAPPEN."
He sat there for a minute and thought about it. His first response was "Oh, I don't know mommy. Some nice family with children and a dog who are really nice."
When I asked him for a specific family or person he said he needed some time to think about it. Ten minutes later he returned to the room and said,
"Edward Hopper"
"What about Edward Hopper?"
"I've thought about it. And that is the exact person I want to live with if something happens to you and daddy. He loves to paint and I love to paint. He paints New York and Cape Cod and I paint New York and Cape Cod. He paints pictures of everyday things like warehouses and that's what I want to paint. Just everyday things and he makes them beautiful"
Sometimes my son freaks me out.
Sunday, November 27, 2005
Hell is for Parents
I am living proof that the avian flu has not arrived in NYC.
Yesterday Benjamin and I set out of the house for a little holiday fun in midtown with one of his schoolmates.
What a blind, naive East Villager I am. It never occurred to me that I was walking directly into the twelve rings of NYC Holiday Hell.
- Waded through a packed crowd at Grand Central
- Stood protectively hovering over my son at the New York Transit Museum Annex (in Grand Central) while he and scores of other train finatics of all ages pressed their faces against the multi-tiered Lionel Train christmas set up.
- Stupidly agreed to wade through hundreds of tourists, shoppers and teenagers at the Bryant Park Christmas Fair Booths. Stared dreamily at the new ice skating rink there and thought about hockey for ten seconds.
-Broke down and agreed to eat a late lunch at Mars 2112. Wanted to commit suicide in the space ship. Certainly Satan had a hand in the design of this tourist trap/parent hell.
-Achieved double dumb ass status when I blindly agreed to walk into Times Square and visit Toys R Us. The street crowds were insane. There was no escape once you got sucked into the current of foot traffic. I held on tightly to my son's hand and prayed for our safety and sanity.
-The Times Square Toys R Us rivaled the population density of Bombay. You don't believe me?...Benjamin and I wandered around in various packs of crowds for fifteen minutes when he looked up at me and said "I give up. Let's leave." You read that correctly. My child suggested that we leave the motherload of all toy stores empty handed.
- Store doors swung open to a packed crowd that was almost standing still because it was impossible to walk. It was a spectator crowd...with nothing to watch.
- I started flipping out. Jaywalked across Broadway and 7th Avenue and nearly kissed the ground of the subway entrance at 42nd Street.
- We got back to Astor Place. I wanted to see if Ben could show me how to get to Avenue A from the subway station. And he did successfully....by walking us down St. Marks Place through thousands of NYU students, punks, tourists, merchants, residents, etc. I asked for it...
- When we got home, we both washed our hands. I nearly burst into tears.
There is just so much fucking humanity you can take in one day.
Yesterday Benjamin and I set out of the house for a little holiday fun in midtown with one of his schoolmates.
What a blind, naive East Villager I am. It never occurred to me that I was walking directly into the twelve rings of NYC Holiday Hell.
- Waded through a packed crowd at Grand Central
- Stood protectively hovering over my son at the New York Transit Museum Annex (in Grand Central) while he and scores of other train finatics of all ages pressed their faces against the multi-tiered Lionel Train christmas set up.
- Stupidly agreed to wade through hundreds of tourists, shoppers and teenagers at the Bryant Park Christmas Fair Booths. Stared dreamily at the new ice skating rink there and thought about hockey for ten seconds.
-Broke down and agreed to eat a late lunch at Mars 2112. Wanted to commit suicide in the space ship. Certainly Satan had a hand in the design of this tourist trap/parent hell.
-Achieved double dumb ass status when I blindly agreed to walk into Times Square and visit Toys R Us. The street crowds were insane. There was no escape once you got sucked into the current of foot traffic. I held on tightly to my son's hand and prayed for our safety and sanity.
-The Times Square Toys R Us rivaled the population density of Bombay. You don't believe me?...Benjamin and I wandered around in various packs of crowds for fifteen minutes when he looked up at me and said "I give up. Let's leave." You read that correctly. My child suggested that we leave the motherload of all toy stores empty handed.
- Store doors swung open to a packed crowd that was almost standing still because it was impossible to walk. It was a spectator crowd...with nothing to watch.
- I started flipping out. Jaywalked across Broadway and 7th Avenue and nearly kissed the ground of the subway entrance at 42nd Street.
- We got back to Astor Place. I wanted to see if Ben could show me how to get to Avenue A from the subway station. And he did successfully....by walking us down St. Marks Place through thousands of NYU students, punks, tourists, merchants, residents, etc. I asked for it...
- When we got home, we both washed our hands. I nearly burst into tears.
There is just so much fucking humanity you can take in one day.
Saturday, November 26, 2005
Turkeys, Rent and Remembrance
About three days before Thanksgiving it occurred to me that I was hosting dinner at my house and had better secure a turkey pronto.
Wish I could have seen the turkey strapped to the back of Brian's motorbike as he sped across town.
Had a great holiday with my sister Liz and Brian's good friend and fellow bandmember in from LA. He's scoring shows for cartoon network. I never realized they had adult level animation programs after 10 p.m.
I remember 100 years ago when my nights used to begin at 10.
Last night I went with Liz to see the movie Rent.
Yes, there are some quick shots that include our building which thrilled me to no end. The NY Times complained that most of the locations are not accurately identified. Who cares!!? Although I did wonder why they shot the bar 7b as the Life Cafe location. Also the apartment building the characters live in and its outside street scenes are definitely not the east village (and maybe not NYC).
I never saw the musical and thought the movie pretty powerful. I saw it in the Zigfield Theatre in midtown where they have a great sound system.
As far as I'm concerned, it captured the feel of the East Village in the late 80's/early 90's and how AIDs decimated the community one torturous death at a time. Meanwhile the government watched and did nothing.
Brian handles the archives at NYU. It includes a special area dedicated to the artists, performers, writers, and poets of the East Village of the 70's, 80's and early 90's. The majority are dead.
I was working in major gift fundraising for AIDS research at that time. It was so gut wrenching to have doors slammed in your face again and again.
Of course some people didn't slam the door. Which is why my brother in law and his partner are still alive twenty years later.
And we certainly gave thanks for those people of vision and faith on Thursday afternoon as we sat down to feast on turkey in our little pad overlooking Tompkins Square Park.
Wish I could have seen the turkey strapped to the back of Brian's motorbike as he sped across town.
Had a great holiday with my sister Liz and Brian's good friend and fellow bandmember in from LA. He's scoring shows for cartoon network. I never realized they had adult level animation programs after 10 p.m.
I remember 100 years ago when my nights used to begin at 10.
Last night I went with Liz to see the movie Rent.
Yes, there are some quick shots that include our building which thrilled me to no end. The NY Times complained that most of the locations are not accurately identified. Who cares!!? Although I did wonder why they shot the bar 7b as the Life Cafe location. Also the apartment building the characters live in and its outside street scenes are definitely not the east village (and maybe not NYC).
I never saw the musical and thought the movie pretty powerful. I saw it in the Zigfield Theatre in midtown where they have a great sound system.
As far as I'm concerned, it captured the feel of the East Village in the late 80's/early 90's and how AIDs decimated the community one torturous death at a time. Meanwhile the government watched and did nothing.
Brian handles the archives at NYU. It includes a special area dedicated to the artists, performers, writers, and poets of the East Village of the 70's, 80's and early 90's. The majority are dead.
I was working in major gift fundraising for AIDS research at that time. It was so gut wrenching to have doors slammed in your face again and again.
Of course some people didn't slam the door. Which is why my brother in law and his partner are still alive twenty years later.
And we certainly gave thanks for those people of vision and faith on Thursday afternoon as we sat down to feast on turkey in our little pad overlooking Tompkins Square Park.
Sunday, November 20, 2005
There's Got to Be a Morning After.....
Okay.
So I promise this is the last post about the Christmas Fair. But what can I say? It's a project that dominated my life for six months!!!
God was on our side and provided a beautiful, crispy cold November day.
Decorations for the entrance gates and stone path to the school were an odd conglomeration of Masterpiece Theatre meets the Sopranos. A lovely British mom spent hours decorating the gates with silver sprayed ivy, holly, topiaries and branches. Once through the gates a wonderful New York dad from Queens strategically positioned a towering blow up Frosty the Snowman, a huge flashing "Happy Holidays" sign and a blinking light Santa in a sleigh pointing toward the heavens. A huge collection of fake presents blared loud holiday tunes.
Somehow this cultural car accident helped double our attendance. Go figure.
The fair went beautifully due to everyone's hard work. Many of the parents stopped to tell me that it was fantastic (which was so kind). Last year's fair grossed $27,000. This year we grossed $57,000!!!
And now I will confess my tragic flaw.
I've spend a good chunk of my life achieving things but for some reason it's hard for me to feel it on the inside. I just kind of throw it in a pile behind me with other stuff I've done and move on. I will say that I truly enjoyed the friendship that developed between me and my co-chair Valerie.
Anne Lindburgh was right. It's the journey that counts, not the arrival.
Except when I gave birth to Ben. That day was the beginning of the best thing that ever happened to me.
So I promise this is the last post about the Christmas Fair. But what can I say? It's a project that dominated my life for six months!!!
God was on our side and provided a beautiful, crispy cold November day.
Decorations for the entrance gates and stone path to the school were an odd conglomeration of Masterpiece Theatre meets the Sopranos. A lovely British mom spent hours decorating the gates with silver sprayed ivy, holly, topiaries and branches. Once through the gates a wonderful New York dad from Queens strategically positioned a towering blow up Frosty the Snowman, a huge flashing "Happy Holidays" sign and a blinking light Santa in a sleigh pointing toward the heavens. A huge collection of fake presents blared loud holiday tunes.
Somehow this cultural car accident helped double our attendance. Go figure.
The fair went beautifully due to everyone's hard work. Many of the parents stopped to tell me that it was fantastic (which was so kind). Last year's fair grossed $27,000. This year we grossed $57,000!!!
And now I will confess my tragic flaw.
I've spend a good chunk of my life achieving things but for some reason it's hard for me to feel it on the inside. I just kind of throw it in a pile behind me with other stuff I've done and move on. I will say that I truly enjoyed the friendship that developed between me and my co-chair Valerie.
Anne Lindburgh was right. It's the journey that counts, not the arrival.
Except when I gave birth to Ben. That day was the beginning of the best thing that ever happened to me.
Sunday, November 13, 2005
Home for the Holidays
This weekend was beautiful. A warm fall weekend in the City. Should I be concerned that leaves on the trees are still green and Thanksgiving is one week away?
Mid-November through January is always a difficult time for me. A fellow blogger has a great post about the "anniversary syndrome" that people experience (whether they realize it or not). Some of the toughest experiences in my life happened during this time of the year. There is also something about the season that brings the reality of family dynamics into stark relief.
That's why God invented drugs and alchohol. He just forgot about the addiction part.
For the last seventeen years, I've spent Christmas down south at the well appointed homes of my in-laws in Annapolis and North Carolina. My in-laws are upper class WASPS and would never dream of fighting with each other on the holidays....or any other day. That's what repression is for. And martinis.
My family is more Eugene O'Neil meets Frederico Fellini. A lot of spiraling. A lot of mismatched people trapped in one room. A lot of spaghetti. A lot of noise. A lot of AA.
You get the picture.
This year I'll be staying up here so that Ben can perform in the Christmas Pageant at St. Luke's.
I'm already planning my holiday defense strategy in advance by focusing on the things I love:
1. A huge Christmas Tree
2. Having friends over every weekend in December for coffee and holiday food (I'm kinda good at that)
3. Participating in every cultural event that interests us. Especially traditional holiday music -which I adore (Handel's Messiah and Christmas music from around the world)
4. Seeing the Christmas Pageant and attending services the next morning at St. Luke in the Fields
5. Opening up gifts with Brian and Ben
6. Limited and carefully orchestrated visits with relatives (disclaimer: being Irish/Italian catholics means there are dozens of us. And some relations are actually quite sweet...and some are actually quite crazy)
By the way. Here is the link to the St. Luke's Christmas Fair that I'm co-chairing. Proof that I'm not hallucinating!
St. Luke's Christmas Fair
Cheers!
Mid-November through January is always a difficult time for me. A fellow blogger has a great post about the "anniversary syndrome" that people experience (whether they realize it or not). Some of the toughest experiences in my life happened during this time of the year. There is also something about the season that brings the reality of family dynamics into stark relief.
That's why God invented drugs and alchohol. He just forgot about the addiction part.
For the last seventeen years, I've spent Christmas down south at the well appointed homes of my in-laws in Annapolis and North Carolina. My in-laws are upper class WASPS and would never dream of fighting with each other on the holidays....or any other day. That's what repression is for. And martinis.
My family is more Eugene O'Neil meets Frederico Fellini. A lot of spiraling. A lot of mismatched people trapped in one room. A lot of spaghetti. A lot of noise. A lot of AA.
You get the picture.
This year I'll be staying up here so that Ben can perform in the Christmas Pageant at St. Luke's.
I'm already planning my holiday defense strategy in advance by focusing on the things I love:
1. A huge Christmas Tree
2. Having friends over every weekend in December for coffee and holiday food (I'm kinda good at that)
3. Participating in every cultural event that interests us. Especially traditional holiday music -which I adore (Handel's Messiah and Christmas music from around the world)
4. Seeing the Christmas Pageant and attending services the next morning at St. Luke in the Fields
5. Opening up gifts with Brian and Ben
6. Limited and carefully orchestrated visits with relatives (disclaimer: being Irish/Italian catholics means there are dozens of us. And some relations are actually quite sweet...and some are actually quite crazy)
By the way. Here is the link to the St. Luke's Christmas Fair that I'm co-chairing. Proof that I'm not hallucinating!
St. Luke's Christmas Fair
Cheers!
Friday, November 11, 2005
Veterans Day
So I'm putting Benjamin to sleep last night and we begin discussing plans for his birthday.
His birthday is at the end of March. But it isn't just a birthday. It's more like a festival that lasts several days.
There's the classroom party, the extended family party, the official cast of thousands party and then the actual day of his birth party.
The conversation went something like this:
"Mommy, let's talk about my birthday party."
"Okay. What would you like to do for your eighth birthday?"
"Well, I'd like to have a World War I Party"
"Hmmm. How do you see that working?"
"Umm. Everyone could come dressed up from different groups. Some people could be the Allies (France and England), some people could be Germany and some people could be the Austria/Hungarian Empire."
"Well what if kids didn't want to be 'the bad guys'?"
"That's easy, they could be Belgium"
"What would we do for fun? Build a trench?"
(He looks over at me incredulously) "Mommy, it's really hard to dig a trench. But we could do military drills and whoever gets the most medals would be the Ace."
Whatever happened to two hours at the Baseball Center and pizza?
Who does he think I am? George Lucas?
His birthday is at the end of March. But it isn't just a birthday. It's more like a festival that lasts several days.
There's the classroom party, the extended family party, the official cast of thousands party and then the actual day of his birth party.
The conversation went something like this:
"Mommy, let's talk about my birthday party."
"Okay. What would you like to do for your eighth birthday?"
"Well, I'd like to have a World War I Party"
"Hmmm. How do you see that working?"
"Umm. Everyone could come dressed up from different groups. Some people could be the Allies (France and England), some people could be Germany and some people could be the Austria/Hungarian Empire."
"Well what if kids didn't want to be 'the bad guys'?"
"That's easy, they could be Belgium"
"What would we do for fun? Build a trench?"
(He looks over at me incredulously) "Mommy, it's really hard to dig a trench. But we could do military drills and whoever gets the most medals would be the Ace."
Whatever happened to two hours at the Baseball Center and pizza?
Who does he think I am? George Lucas?
Wednesday, November 09, 2005
Back in the Saddle Again
Phew.
Thank God for Election Day.
My son had class but I didn't!! Instead I spent all morning at his school walking through the logistics for the Christmas Fair. Now that I'm in the last lap I feel much better. Everything is in place and it just might be really beautiful and fun.
I loved bumping into Ben so many times at school. Like most second grade boys, he's in the thick of gender segregation these days. Even so, Ben ran right up to me and kissed and hugged me every time we met.
I forgot that moms are the third gender.
Later on I had wonderful lunch with my husband. We ate at one of those bland Indian cafes filled with NYU students. But it didn't matter. For some reason I felt taken back to the early days of knowing him. How he managed to be oddly funny, eccentric and a complete gentleman at the same time.
How is it that my husband refuses to age? He looks EXACTLY the same as he did when he was 25. Tall, thick blond hair, not a wrinkle in sight. Everyone comments on it - it's not just me!
There's no justice for the third gender!
Thank God for Election Day.
My son had class but I didn't!! Instead I spent all morning at his school walking through the logistics for the Christmas Fair. Now that I'm in the last lap I feel much better. Everything is in place and it just might be really beautiful and fun.
I loved bumping into Ben so many times at school. Like most second grade boys, he's in the thick of gender segregation these days. Even so, Ben ran right up to me and kissed and hugged me every time we met.
I forgot that moms are the third gender.
Later on I had wonderful lunch with my husband. We ate at one of those bland Indian cafes filled with NYU students. But it didn't matter. For some reason I felt taken back to the early days of knowing him. How he managed to be oddly funny, eccentric and a complete gentleman at the same time.
How is it that my husband refuses to age? He looks EXACTLY the same as he did when he was 25. Tall, thick blond hair, not a wrinkle in sight. Everyone comments on it - it's not just me!
There's no justice for the third gender!
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