Sam and his favorite buddy, Phonant:
And a couple taken by Phonant’s BFF, Sam:
Music Monday: Workout mix
In an effort to get back on track about working out every day, I want to start talking more about it, in every aspect. One of my favorite things about running/walking by myself is that I get to listen to music. Upbeat, shake your ass, dance like an idiot kind of music. No matter how ridiculous, if it has a beat that keeps time to my stride, I’ll put it on the playlist. So far, I have 50 songs on my workout playlist, but I keep adding new ones whenever I hear something that appeals to me.
Here are 10 of my favorites:
Baby – Justin Bieber (Seriously, don’t judge, because this song is goddamn catchy.)
Dog Days Are Over – Florence + The Machine (For some reason my arms want to punch the air when this song is on.)
Float On – Modest Mouse (“Even if things end up a bit too heavy we’ll all float on all RIGHT!”)
Forever – Chris Brown (Yeah, I hate this asshole too, but I can’t deny the fact that this one particular song is kind of bad ass.)
Jenny from the Block – Jennifer Lopez (When this is on, I imagine J-Lo’s hot body as inspiration.)
Love On Top – Beyonce (See J-Lo.)
Ray Charles – Chiddy Bang (This is a new one, and I just can’t help myself; it’s the band that really does it for me.)
Take Your Mama – Scissor Sisters (“Do it! Take your mama out all night!”)
Under Cover of Darkness – The Strokes (I could put this one on repeat. Over and over and over. And over.)
What Doesn’t Kill You (Stronger) – Kelly Clarkson (If this isn’t a fantastic workout song, I don’t know what is.)
What I’ve got to offer
I like fixing things.
I see an ad with a grammatical error, and I want to correct it. I hear about someone’s financial troubles and I want to create a fool-proof budget for them. I find out a friend is behind on the laundry and housekeeping, and I want to run over there and finish it up in a jiffy, and cook them dinner to boot (even though I kind of hate cooking).
Basically, I can’t help myself.
And this in no way makes me a good person. In fact, it often seems to instead prove the opposite — offering unsolicited aid very rarely goes over well. People (including me!) would rather be able to complain or vent about their problems without someone going around trying to fix anything. Truth is, we like our problems.
Posted in On random
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He’s a lover, not a fighter
In Santa Barbara, we stumbled upon a very talented painter. He had many pieces on display, some of which were so incredibly detailed and gorgeously done that I could hardly believe it. But there he sat, painting in the warm afternoon sun on the beach. He was Asian, and very soft spoken.
Me: (pointing to his painting) If I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes, I wouldn’t have believed it.
Painter: Oh, too good to be true? Ha ha. Just rice paper. Just rice paper and shading.
Me: Yes, I’m sure it’s very easy for you!
Painter: (pointing to my tattoos) The shading is beautiful. Beautiful shading.
(My dad, who’s fully sleeved on both arms, walks up and the painter notices his tattoos as well.)
Painter: Ah, you too! What’s this?
(He reads the Chinese symbols on my dad’s Kenpo tattoo.)
Painter: Ah, you do martial arts? I do martial arts too, but just for work outs. No fighting.
My dad: Oh yeah? You do martial arts?
Painter: Yes. People ask me, why you have muscles? I say, just for workouts. Not for fighting.
My dad: No fighting?
Painter: No, no fighting. Don’t fight me, I’m a painter!
Wordless Wednesday: Santa Barbara
I once played the role of Bride at a wedding on a rooftop in this very city. It’s five years, a child, a divorce and a new man in my life later, and this weekend was my first time back.
My mother’s 50th birthday was special and gorgeous and totally worth the bittersweet agony of walking down memory lane (I mean State Street). The sun’s happy rays and my son’s happy toes in the warm, soft sand reminded me: I am where I’m supposed to be today.
I am where I’m supposed to be today.
Posted in On divorce, On family, On marriage, On motherhood
Tagged Wordless Wednesday
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Music Monday: Love, by Clem Snide
I was first introduced to Clem Snide — specifically Eef Barzelay’s incredibly soulful, deliciously understated vocals — when I was in the throes of a brand-new relationship. Blinded by love and falling so hard and so fast that I was surrounded by a whirlwind of empty promises and sugar-coated kisses, the songs seemed to speak directly to me. It was 2003. The album, Soft Spot. The songs, “Close the Door” and “Forever, Now and Then” and “Find Love.” And the world was mine, so sweet and filled with dreams. I remember it fondly.
So when I was watching “Californication” the other day and heard Journey’s “Faithfully,” but with the gentle vocals and soft strum of the familiar strings, it caught my breath. I looked up the song and discovered Clem Snide had created a new EP of Journey covers, which also included “Don’t Stop Believing,” “Anyway You Want It,” “The Wheel In the Sky,” “Who’s Crying Now” and my favorite Journey song, “Lights.”
Hearing these well-known favorites in such a different tone is pretty amazing; it doesn’t sound at all like the originals, which is good because nothing can outdo the awesomeness that is Journey. These versions have such a gorgeous, sleepy sound. It’s like a meditative version of the songs you’ve been singing for years.
Check out Clem Snide’s Soft Spot or Clem Snide’s Journey
He’s shy, not tired. Leave him alone.
There is nothing wrong with a shy child, despite the fact that most people seem to think there is.
I can’t show up to any gathering without my son attaching himself to my leg, or turning into a koala and wrapping his entire body around mine. Inevitably, the two of us get inundated with questions like, “aw, did he just wake up?”
No. He didn’t just wake up. He’s not tired. Not two seconds ago, he was “honking like a horn on a boat” and making this awful HUHNNNNNN sound through his nose. He’s got the personality of a comedian and usually doesn’t stop talking. Ever.
But when there are people around who he’s not used to, the kid is just shy. And he acts as such.
You know that saying, “We never really grow up, we just learn how to act in public”? I find more and more how true that really is whenever my son acts on the outside exactly like I feel on the inside.
I’d like to bash in your BMW’s headlights
At least once a week, when the timing is just right, I pull into the parking structure at work behind a BMW. Or maybe it’s a Mercedes. Or a friggin’ Ferarri.
Thing is, I have no idea what kind of car it is, because buying a car like that is so far out of my budget that I can’t even afford to get the name right.
And every time it happens – every time I have to wait at the gate for Mr. BMW to look for his badge so he can get in the lot – I have to stop myself from slamming my foot on the gas. I have to stop myself from getting out, grabbing him by his newly-shaven face, and asking him why he can afford this car and – more importantly – why I can’t.
It’s no secret that the newspaper business isn’t doing so well. While I try to live frugally, it almost always ends up that I’m living paycheck to paycheck, hoping my car insurance payment won’t clear before rent does, or vice versa if I’m late already.
I’m not trying to complain here. No way! My son is healthy, and so am I. Love is all we need and yadda friggin’ yadda.
Truth is, I’m green with envy over people who can afford such niceties. I work hard, I put in my extra hours and brilliant ideas. I’ve stuck with the company for 13 years. Why am I driving a dinky little Focus, my son’s growing feet kicking me in the elbow every time he tries to sit himself up in the carseat that takes up the entire back seat? (When he sneezes, he can hit the dashboard if he aims just right.)
There isn’t much I can do about this dilemma — except, of course, continuing to refrain from actually bashing into the BMWs I see. I’ve chosen the life I lead, and I’m thankful for being able to live in a nice area. I can feed my kid every day, and there’s something to be said about the cool shirts I can afford to buy him.
But man. If only he could kick me from the back of a fancy little SUV.
Posted in On working
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