Archive for February, 2010

Well, shit

Yeah, so this will be a post about the hurricane we just had here in the North East.

J left town yesterday afternoon for a few days to play up north, and naturally, as it seems to happen when he is gone, we got a whopping storm.

When I say “storm” I mean, STORM.

You may have seen it on the news and some of you wrote me on facebook to check in because you saw my town on the news.

Around 9 last night, the rain started pounding, the wind started howling and whipping around like three hundred madmen. My condo is on the second and first floor, facing the ocean. Shingles ripped off, about 50 or so, if not more, as did gutters. The windows shook and whistled. The power flickered constantly. The cable went out. My bed shook all night and I cranked the heat up when I went to bed in case the power went out, it would be somewhat warm.

I slept with a flashlight, my cell phone fully charged, and tons of bottled water at hand.

But we got the least of it. Our neighbors had windows blown out. Another had a huge old tree come down. 8000 people are still without power. My friend had a branch crash through her car window. There is flooding and roofs completely ripped off. Cars were completely smashed by huge trees. Sheds overturned. Houses in the water. Flagpoles snapped in half. Signs blown away. Hotel roofs are gone, the aerial views show wide open hotel rooms, open to the sky.

I couldn’t reach my mom, who lives on the other side of the island, so when they called school off this morning, we hopped in the car and made our way to her house. She was there by her wood burning stove, no power or phone, but happy as a clam. She worried most about the groceries she had just bought the day before, and had run out in the early morning to buy some ice.

Unfortunately/fortunately, her icecream was melting still so the girls and I sat there with spoons and ate as much as we could, at 9:00 in the morning.

Yes, we did!

At any rate, everything is fine in our house, aside from part of the roof missing (no gaping holes thankfully). We have heat, power, running water and a stocked fridge.

And I was sitting here, thinking how, still, we live in the most beautiful place.


The Make Up Shirt

So, things aren’t always sweet as sugar, smelling like roses, tasting like chocolate.

J came home last Saturday night, on Valentine’s Eve, after his gig up north. He was home around midnight, the same time I walked in the door from being out and about with my friend, Alice, to have dinner and go see some live music in town.

He walked in, tired, weary, and we decided to open some beer.

So, we sat there having beer and talking about this and that until about two.

At that point, I was ready for a shower and bed and he goes, “Go ahead, I will meet you in there.” Eventually, he showed up, we showered together, bantered about the temperature (I like it hot, he likes it lukewarm), made out a little, and got out to get dry. He slapped my butt as I walked out of the bathroom in a towel and there in front of me sat a huge bouquet of flowers, and a gorgeous box of chocolates.  Oh yeeeees, did I expect that? Nope. I expected we’d likely go out to lunch or dinner for Valentine’s Day, I didn’t expect to start it at 2am in the morning.

I kissed him and gave him my card along with a bunch of writing I have done over the last two years, about me and him, about us.

On our way up the stairs, he goes, “So, since it’s Valentine’s Day, we might as well get naked.”

The next morning, we woke up late and he rolled over and said, “So, since it’s Valentine’s Day, we might as well go out to brunch.”

And then, because it was Valentine’s Day, we might as well have ordered Bloody Mary’s at the bar after breakfast and rented movies for bed in the afternoon.

And “Well, since it’s Valentine’s Day, we might as well do IT again.”

At any rate, the day was perfect. It was relaxing and filled with rest, food, drinks, chocolate and nakedness.

Could it get any better?

Flash foward to yesterday, nearly a week later. We’ve been up north together with his mom and family, he was up late gigging, we’re a little stressed about the upcoming hopeful probable restaurant deal and everything that needs doing. We’ll know more next week if we can work out some details so the deal can continue to progress.

We got in this little argument, one where he raised his voice and got upset and I was left sitting there next to him in silence, thinking “what? what just happened?” In actuality, I don’t remember what happened, but I was asking questions and he didn’t want to explain something, merely for the sake of saving the energy he didn’t feel he had to go into detail on something I didn’t understand. It was minor, yet uncalled for and upsetting, because this simply does not happen with us.

And I totally cried. It sucked, and looking at him, I saw some of that in his eyes too. That sucked too.

At any rate, it was resolved, we talked over some Rooibos Tea, and connected again. We made up quickly, and we made up with an understanding of how each other was feeling as well as ideas of how to NOT have that happen again.

A few hours later, we’d had a business meeting near a clothing shop and afterwards, he said “you want to go in that shop?” because I had been eyeing some clothes, on sale, in the boutique window.

We went in and I immediately found something I liked.  He was standing next to the saleslady and he goes (in front of all the people in the store) “If you want that, I will buy it for you, to make up for what I did this morning.”

Laughter filtered through the store and I grinned. “Oh really?”

The saleslady says, through laughing tears, “I won’t even ask!”

When we stood at the cash register, she looked at me and goes, “what he did, must have been pretty bad.”

So, today, I wore my new favorite shirt, it will always be my “make up shirt.”

On the Bedside Table

I grew up reading avidly.

We weren’t allowed to watch tv except Little House on the Prairie, so I think I felt a bit deprived at the time, especially while all my other friends spent their Saturday mornings watching cartoons.

The tradeoff though, was an appreciation and excitement for books, for reading. On Fridays, we’d stop at the library and I’d check out the maximum limit of ten books, go home, get in the bathtub, and read a novel front to back, pausing only to add hot water. We’d get in bed at night at 7 and read until Mom yelled at us to turn out the light, hours later. And I recall waking up before sunrise often enough to keep reading before having to get up for school. Saturdays were a dream, where I could sit on the beach and read in between volleyball games, or in the cooler months, stay inside and read by the fire.

Now, in our house, we’ve promoted this sort of habit with the girls. Both J and I read, currently, it is more marketing and restaurant books. Sometimes inspirational or self help books. But the other day I was at the book store with the kids and bought myself “The School of Essential Ingredients.” I even started it last night and I can’t remember the last time I actually read a book that wasn’t teaching me more than what the story was telling me.

The girls have a reward system chart on the fridge. Their goals for each day are to a) keep their room clean b) respect each other (which is a nice way to say “don’t fight, hit, scream at your sister”) and c) listen to Mommy and J. At the end of each day, they get a sticker for each accomplishment and when they reach 25 stickers, they get a reward.

Last time it was a trip to Chuck-e Cheese.

This time, it was a choice to take a trip to the bookstore.

Oh and what a treat that was. To have kids who beg to read, who beg for new books, who beg for the library, who beg to trade books with each other, how did I get so lucky?

They each picked a book. Blue got this gorgeous Pippi Longstocking book.

Red chose a Roald Dahl book, which I found amazing, considering she seems to have already read about ten of them, it is hard to believe there are more out there!

The girls both have reading homework every night, and I found myself, in the beginning, begging them to read after school, but they weren’t interested since they were busy doing other homework, resting, playing, studying, doing flashcards. I thought back to my own childhood and the new plan was easy. For the last few years, the girls have been getting in bed at night and reading for 45 minutes, sometimes longer, in their beds. In the mornings, they no longer come traipsing in to wake us up, but I go pull them from their beds and their books to get them ready for school on time.

We got a good thing going and I have even had to make the “no reading at the dinner table” rule. (along with the “no Nintendo DS at the dinner table rule.”

Lastly, on J’s bedside table is a book I ordered for him a while ago. He has read most of it but I find he has been holding onto it and picking it up and re-reading pieces of it. He alternates this with Macworld magazine and restaurant books on cutting costs, employee satisfaction, and advertising. The book is “Soul Proprietorship”. And oh man, is it good. (I know this only because I read over his shoulder sometimes when he isn’t looking. I’m still waiting for my turn with it and considering my own copy.


Last night J and I walked down the road to the shore to attend a candlelight vigil for a teenage boy from our neighborhood and community who was found washed up on shore. His mother is someone we know who lives close by.

It was so sad, but touching, hundreds showed up, mostly his friends from school, everyone spoke, sang, looked out to sea to say goodbye.

No one knows what happened yet.

All I feel is sadness for our friends and community.

And all I want to do it so pick up my kids from their trip with their dad and bring them home…and keep them home.


Last night I was reminded that that I’m not as young as I used to be,  after  we “got busy” on the floor in front of the fire place.

How romantic, huh?

Well, my bones and elbows and knees and back, (and everything) are killing me.

Was it worth it? Yes.

I woke up this morning, I felt a scrape on my back, remembering a rug burn I got once when I was in college, from making out heavily (very heavily) on the carpeted floor of my boyfriend’s mom’s mini van.

Seriously. I am almost embarrassed to write that.

I got in a hilarious battle with someone the other day, we’d been talking about the year we were born and my friend made reference to my age….36.

And I go, “I’m 37, actually.”

My friend goes, “You’re 36. You were born in April of 1973.”

“I’m 37.”

I was adamant, only because last month, I actually forgot my age and then did the calculation in my head.

Turns out, someone needs a calculator. That someone is me.

So, the bad news is, I am not as limber and immune to the pains of sex on the floor.

The good news is, I am one year younger than I thought I was.

A list of six random things to do

1) Start thinking “piano bar”. We have an agreement on a “new” location but it is contingent on a new lease since the current one doesn’t work for us (crappy 23 page lease!). It’s a location we looked at in September and have come back to since we walked away from the other deal. If all goes well, we’ll be open in May and you’re all invited. If not, meet us on the beach.

2) Love. My. New. Car.  Don’t throw trash on floor. Clean out coffee cups daily. (and I still haven’t gotten it yet) I went to the dealership to finish my paperwork and give them what I cleaned out of my savings account as the down payment. I feel poor and rich all at the same time.

3) Drive north to see J play tonight and for the weekend. Enjoy last trip in 2001 Subaru. Thank it for being somewhat good to me all these years.

3) Wash windows. In the winter it is hard. When I see the dirt and fingerprints, the sun is shining directly on them (which is a bad time to clean them because it makes them streak). And then, when the sun goes away, I don’t see the grime and totally forget.

4) Write out a well worth it check to tutor. Red went yesterday for her first math tutoring session. She got back in the car afterwards with a huge smile on her face and goes, “I LOVED IT!!!!!” I consider that a success.

5) It’s braces time. Call orthodontist for consultation for 9 year old. Ugh.

6) Kids are growing up. Don’t miss it. Let them eat candy more on Fridays.

My Favorite Thing Today

My new car.

It’s still at the dealership, getting it’s blue tooth, remote starter (a must in the north east) and leather seats.

Yes, I went coooshy because I got a deal.

J, my mom and I spent most of Monday at a dealership, testdriving, schmoozing, negotiating. Thank goodness for J, he got them down more in price because my mom was in the market for a new car and she bought a new Forester.  I mean, these guys were stoked, they sold two cars in one day.

After breaking down twice in a year, and spending a bit too much in repairs in the last two, it was time to bite it.

Friday I go complete my paperwork and register new plates and then next week, they will deliver it to me, and take the old car away.

It’s amazing how far cars have come in ten years.

And how less lesbian Subaru’s are looking. (a post I wrote a while ago on my previous blog)

Not that there is anything wrong with that.