This makes Perfect Sense

Lucy and I were just walking home from school, talking about being a crossing guard and we had this conversation:

Lucy, ” I wouldn’t want that job because it’s too hard. I would want to do something easier, you know?”

Me, “Like what do you want to do instead, that’s easier than a crossing guard?”

Lucy, “You know, like a teacher or a fashion model – because I’m already really good at it you know? And because I love high heels and I walk really good in them (she does not)”

Me, “Ok”

Lucy, “Oh! And because of the fur coats. I love fur coats, but I especially love VESTS. Fur vests are awesome.”

Me, “Ok, so you want to be a fashion model so you can wear fur vests.”

Lucy, “Yes especially if they are cheetah print and covered in glitter!”

Thus ensued a five minute diatribe on the merits of how glitter makes EVERYTHING better.

Lucy, “You know who else has a hard job?”

Me, “Who”

Lucy, “Politicians”

Me, “What now?”

Lucy, “Yeah, they have to think SO HARD, like with their WHOLE brain, when someone asks them something they have to really THINK about it, you know?”

“I think there’s probably one president fly that rules all of the flies, also I heard that Hillary Clinton is still mad that she didn’t become our president. But you know what I say? I say ‘Get over it Hillary, just get over it already!'”

Me, “Um… ok honey”

lufur
feel free to come to me for all of your photoshopping needs
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Newsletter: Year 7

 Lucy turned 7 Yesterday. Right now she loves playing with legos and making concoctions, her favorite movie is Hotel Transylvania 2 and shes pretty obsessed with Ever After High. She has an American girl doll that goes everywhere with us. She likes to go camping but isn’t a huge nature lover, she doesn’t like sports but loves like science and doing experiments. She is funny and incorrigible and I cannot fathom life without her.

Happy Birthday to my peanut:

An Open Letter to Chelsea Handler*

Dear Chelsea,

I just finished your book Are you there Vodka, its me Chelsea and I wanted to write and tell you that you are fucking hilarious. I have a very good friend that has been telling me this for some time – obviously I should be listening to him more, but sometimes trying new things is so hard.

I picked up your book at a library sale so I only paid $1.00 for it but I want you to know now that I’ve actually read it I would have paid FULL price.  I also managed to score Lies Chelsea Handler Told Me and I can’t wait to read it but I cannot read two books of essays back to back, I have to break it up with a novel or something non-fiction, I would like to delve right in to this but there are rules Chelsea.

Anyway, I really wanted you to know that I loved your book and as someone who is really only good at drinking and being sarcastic I can absolutely relate to you, I was also hoping you could mentor me. Do you have some kind of mentoring program? I would gladly fill out some sort of application and even submit to a background check, you can interview my friends and they will totally agree with the drinking and the sarcasm as being my two best qualities.

So, yes I might be years and years late to your party but I want you to know that I am here now – I’m even going use the google to find you on the TV.

Hugs,
Becca

*For my ‘regular’ readers this whole open letter thing seems to becoming a thing – just go with it and please read Chelsea Handler (apparently she’s written a whole slew of books).

Six-Year-Old Logic

Yesterday I was driving Lucy home from theater camp and we had this conversation in the car:

Driving by a construction site close to our house

Lucy: “Wow, I just want to go climb that giant mountain of dirt:

Me: “I know you do sweetie”

Lucy: “Don’t you?”

Me: “Not in these pants”

Lucy: “You should change when you get home”

Me: “I’m going to, I’m going to take off my good work pants and probably just throw a dress on”

Lucy: “Don’t put on a dress, wear shorts and T-shirt like me. Do you even own shorts?”

Me: “Sure, somewhere but I think when it’s this hot a dress is the coolest thing that you can wear”

Lucy: “But you shouldn’t wear a dress, or a skirt because then someone could see your underwear”

Me: “Aw sweetie, it’s ok. I don’t plan on showing my underwear off, besides we’re going to go home and hang out with our friends”

Lucy: “Yah, but you can’t show your underwear to our friends, the rule is only family, or people that are living with us”

Me: “That’s a rule?”

Lucy: “Yeah, if your friends see your underwear than they’ll know how big they are and then they could buy some for you”

Me: “Okay, let me get this straight. You don’t want me to wear a dress today because Stacy might see my underwear and buy me some?”

Lucy: “Yes, and there is nothing more boring than someone buying you underwear!”

Me: “okay, so I should go home and wear shorts to save Stacy from being bored by buying me underwear?”

Lucy: “Yes!”

For the record I did end up putting on jeans when I got home – I most definitely don’t want to be blamed for anything that might happen if I wore said dress.

That One Time in Vineland NJ

I was TERRIBLY remiss in my last post about my employment history in that I forgot to highlight the absolute worst job I ever had. Maybe I did this subconsciously because I knew it deserved its own post or maybe I have finally repressed this memory far enough into the back of my addled mind that it no longer springs forward without some prompting (thanks Mom!).

The summer between my first and second freshman years of college I was in a tough spot not having anywhere to go for summer break. I had tried desperately to stay at school over the summer and continue to work at the pizza shop, but it was made clear to me that only foreign students could stay on campus. So, I did the next logical thing, I rented a damp basement bedroom in a house in Vineland NJ. Back in the early 90’s Vineland was a pretty rough town (I haven’t been there in 23 years so I hope it’s improved) but at the time it was not a nice place to be. The room was cheap and right down the road from a very bad decision I was dating named Shawn.

I moved in with exactly enough rent money for one week – I was desperate to find a job as was my landlady’s drug dealing son (Chris) who needed a cover for all of the cash he regularly had laying around. Chris and his hoodlum friends and I decided to carpool to a local temp agency the day after I moved in.

Whether it was because of the company I was with or because I looked like I had little potential but the only job the temp agency offered us was shift work at a local plastics plant. Desperate for anything I immediately agreed and I was told to report there at 11:00pm that very night. That very night? I had only gotten a few hours of sleep the night before. I was already tired and it was only 3:00pm. I went home, got changed, tried unsuccessfully to take a nap and drove with Chris and his friends to the plant for our 8 hour shift.

The first thing that hit me was the smell, walking in to the front door I was overwhelmed by the smell of burning plastic. I was told by the guy who did my new hire paperwork that I’d get used to it – that was not the only lie he told me.

I was given a very brief “safety” lesson and then taken out on the “floor” where they were making a number of different items from flower pots to dust bins to mops. I was started on the least popular machine the mop-head-put-er-on-er (probably not the official name). My job was the stand there all night and as the preshrunk sponges came down the line, I had to pick it up, melt a piece of plastic on the back (very hot!) and manually attach it to the base part of the mop head that would eventually get attached to a handle.

As simple as that sounds it was not easy, for one thing everything was hot hot hot, the sponges came at me with surprising speed and the process to attach them took amazing hand strength to get right. I was immediately overwhelmed but as I looked around the hot, smelly warehouse I realized that not only was it too loud to ask for help or guidance but I was also the only one not speaking Spanish.

How I got through that first night I do not know, never had 8 hours felt so long. My feet hurt, my back hurt, my hands were so sore I could barely stand it and I was TIRED. I was so tired that when I was give my 30 minute ‘dinner’ break (around 3:00 am) I sat down in a hard plastic chair in the breakroom and fell asleep sitting upright.

By the time I got out of there at 7:00 the next morning and limped to the car, I found a note from Chris telling me he and his friends had decided to go to Wildwood sometime in the middle of the night (clearly physical labor was not their cup of tea). I sat down behind the wheel but my hands were burned and blistered and I could not grab a hold of the steering wheel.

I managed to get myself home although at one point I did pull off the road because I was literally falling asleep at the wheel. I took a brief nap and managed to make it home without hurting anyone.

The next night was somewhat easier because at least I knew what to expect and I had slept the entire 12 hours between shifts and I brought food. I was once again on the mop machine but I made a game of it and with practice got fast enough that I had to wait for the next sponge to get to me.

The third night I worked another machine which I forget the particulars of but it was easier than the dreaded mop head. It was still a painfully long night and I remember I was positioned so that I watched the guys working the flower pots all night. Flower pots was by far the easiest job there; the pots were molded by a machine that dumped them into a giant cardboard box and the guys working it simply had to grab them before the box overflowed and stack them on a pallet next to their station, sure their hands still got burned but after a few days it got easier. A few lucky people had gloves, but they were personal property and not company issued –  I was much to poor too buy gloves and I looked at them as enviously as I looked at people who ate real meals during break time.

My 5th day there was payday, I cashed my check and had just enough money to pay my landlady for the week and buy a bus ticket to Maine. A friend had invited me to come visit for the weekend but once I got there I realized I couldn’t go back. I broke up with Shawn on a postcard and spent the rest of the summer rotating the 3 outfits I had packed while sharing a room with my friends younger sister, Meanwhile Chris and his druggie friends pilfered all of my worldly belongings – presumably to buy more crack.

And this is why you need to make sure your kids stay in school.

Would You Like Some Fries With That?

I recently finished reading a book written by a highly successful person (no spoilers, but I’m sure you’ll figure out who it was in my year end book review) who devoted a whole chapter to the jobs she suffered through before she became a highly successful person and I thought ‘hey, I’m a highly successful person (practically a household name) whose suffered a lot I should do the same.’ So, without further ado here you go (I’m going to link to this page for any potential future employers):

My first job was as a very glamorous chamber maid at a very run down motel by my house in Raymond Maine. At the time I was 14 and limited to working at places I could walk to – it was either the motel or a candle pin bowling alley – man I wanted to work at that bowling alley! The job was terrible, the motel was un-airconditioned, mildewy and run by a creepy old pervert. And because I was only 14 I was scrubbing toilets for student wages which at the time was just about $2.00 an hour. I was paid under the table but my creepy old boss still deducted taxes from what I earned. I worked there one season, left when the motel closed in September and never went back. The last time I drove by it, it had been completely renovated, expanded and gotten a pool. There definitely was no pool when I worked there, it was the kind of place you only stayed in if your car broke down on the way to somewhere better and you had no other options (it was not unlike the Bates motel). My boss used to open up the guest rooms before I got there in the morning and pocket all of the tip money people would leave for me. I really hated that guy.

 

That year I turned 15 and got my first car, I promptly drove it to the local McDonald’s (I needed $ for car insurance) and was hired immediately. I worked primarily the early morning breakfast shift up front behind the registers. It wasn’t a terrible job – I never once had to clean a toilet, scrub a 30-year-old shower curtain clean or get groped from behind. But it was HOT, it was excruciatingly HOT in there, I doubt it was air conditioned and if it was it probably wouldn’t have mattered since I was always given the register right next to the fryer. I was also greasy ALL the time. My biggest take away from this job was that my boss, who was a young and relatively attractive woman had a colostomy bag. I remember learning that and trying hard to stop myself from complaining about stupid things. My feet always hurt.

 

I spent the next summer at McDonald’s but once school started again I decided I needed a change. I left McDonald’s and upgraded to the high class world of Dunkin Donuts. Dunkin smelled a lot better than McDonald’s, didn’t leave me nearly as greasy and allowed me to eat all the free munchkins I wanted. The one big downside to DD was that my boss was a dick, a total old school asshole who didn’t like the way I filled 2 jelly donuts with one hand and complained that I wasn’t pouring coffee the right way (is there a wrong way to pour coffee? Apparently there is…). One day, without ceremony he fired me for eating a munchkin behind the counter (this was a big no-no we had to go into the back room to eat on the clock). This is the one and only job I have ever been fired from – it was totally worth it even though I don’t have any recollection of eating anything on camera, I as happy to get out of there.

 

In order not to lose my car and insurance the day after I left Dunkin Donuts I went right back to McDonald’s, they welcomed me back with open arms (who else was willing to be there at 5:00am on a Saturday?) as far as I recall I worked there the rest of the way through high school.

 

I had a few other gigs, that weren’t real long-term jobs. I spent a few days every year taking inventory at a local hardware store, I have vivid memories of sitting on an overturned bucket counting loose screws until I thought my head would explode. I spent a few months shelving children’s book at my local public library (by far the best job I have EVER had). I spent a month one summer living outside Los Angeles CA and working in the HR department of a fortune 500 company – I was so out of my element there I remember not being able to figure out which was the copy machine and which was the fax machine, but I liked that job I worked at a desk and got a paid lunch hour – HOUR. And occasionally I babysit, but I was terrible at it, I couldn’t relate to children, I didn’t know the first thing about caring for babies and I was super irresponsible – actually I’d like to publicly apologize to anyone I might have babysat for, I hope I did not emotionally scar your children too bad and I’m sorry for making long distance calls and eating all of your frosting.

 

When I got to college I wasn’t planning on working  but beer isn’t free and I found that pocket-money comes in very handy when you are a freshman making poor lifestyle choices. I presented myself to the on-campus pizza place and was hired right away. I was given a name tag and a register front and center. I liked that job, I actually liked it better than most of my classes and my attendance there was better than in most of the lecture halls. I met a lot of friends there probably because I was always grossly under-charging my fellow students. I have no idea how much money I lost that place through my shenanigans but for a brief period of time I was a big hit in a small circle of people. I remember when one day when I was tasked with scooping cream cheese in to small containers to wrap up with the bagels – the cream cheese came in a 5 gallon tub and after an hour of handling it I was so disgusted that it was years before I would eat it again. That place had the best curly fries.

 

After I left school and moved to California I spent my first Christmas season there working for a high-end luggage/gift shop upstairs next to Neiman Marcus in the fashion valley mall. I was hired strictly as their cashier which was perfect because the store sold $5,000 briefcases and Mont Blanc pens that would retail for twice that. I was WAY out of my comfort zone and I remember having some culture shock at the ridiculous things  rich people spent their money on.

 

My next full-time gig was at a low-end gift shop (Coach House gifts?) if the Christmas job had been the Sakes of the gift world my new job was somewhere between a DollarTree and a poorly stocked hallmark store. We sold cheap plastic and resin bobbles and knick-knacks that nobody wanted and nobody needed. The job was easy because hardly anyone ever went in there. the majority of my work day I spent giving my socially awkward boss dating and fashion advice. Fortunately for me he thought I was valuable enough that when I threatened to quit because it took me two buses and almost 2 hours to get to the mall (I only lived 3 miles away) he started driving me to and from work – looking back now I realize he may have been doing that for other reasons…

 

I eventually left the gift store and spent some time doing odd jobs – I worked for a few weeks telemarketing (selling pens and promotional items over the phone) I was terrible at that job. I spent exactly one day working for Boston market (sill waiting to get paid) and I spent a few weeks working for a small business out of someones garage. I was making cold calls selling… something? I don’t remember, I do remember that my ‘desk’ was an ironing board and I was paid in cash – there is a good possibility that that was not a legitimate business.

 

Eventually I was hired to work the sales counter at a local hair salon, once again I was inside and had a steady schedule. My boss, who was a real asshole never called me by my name, he referred to me as ‘girl’. As in “Girl – go restock the bathroom. Girl – order some more Paul Mitchell!” it was humiliating but at the time he was paying me more than his competitors would, the salon was a 2 minute walk from my apartment and for the first time in a long time my hair looked rally good, I was willing to put up with a lot of crap.

 

when I couldn’t take the salon anymore, I turned my boss in to the CA labor bureau for back overtime he never paid me and with the money that I got from that settlement I was able to spend an entire summer doing nothing but sitting by the pool and reading cheap sci fi novels. I guess I should be grateful that I won in the end.

 

after my settlement money was all gone I decided it was time to buckle down and try to find a real job. I bought a nice dress, and heavy resume paper (it was the 90’s I was still sending resumes through the mail). I managed to land a job at a small lien sale office, I started in the mailroom, posting and dragging (literally) 1000’s of letters to the post office everyday. I learned patience standing in long post office line (before there were smart phones to keep you entertained). Thanks to an incident of embezzlement and a dramatic mid-day arrest I was quickly promoted ‘up front’ to work data entry. I felt like I had finally made it – I got to SIT down at mt OWN desk, I had a telephone and health insurance and a 401K, it was amazing. It was a real job but it was also a double-edged sword, I worked with awesome people and had a regular schedule but I routinely got yelled at by angry and upset customers and at one point we had to install a buzzer on the door because of numerous death threats. It was at this time that I decided I needed to go back to college.

 

I worked at that little office for four years while I got my associates degree and then part of my bachelors degree in the evenings. The day I left was both a huge relief (no more angry customers!) but also incredibly sad –  I worked with my two best friends and I wasn’t leaving them for another job but to move 2,600 miles away.

 

I relocated to Philadelphia and quickly got hired at a full service brokerage firm which was surprising to me because I thought I was interviewing at a temp office. I walked into that job knowing nothing of investing or money management or anything financial (I hadn’t had a savings account since before I started driving). I quickly discovered hat no one cared, I was just a pretty face to answer the phone and fetch coffee – I did that for six years.

 

While answering the phone at the firm I also got a part-time job at Barnes and Nobel, mostly to support my book addiction but also to get cheap coffee  and because it was 3 blocks from my apartment and I spent most of my time there anyway. All the money I made at the bookstore went directly back to the bookstore (I was a great investment for that place). I rally loved working there and working two jobs wasn’t a big deal when I was single and had plenty of time on my hands but eventually I met my future husband and a started missing shifts. We moved in together and I realized that being a secretary and a part-time bookseller was unsustainable. I had been studying for my series 7 (brokers exam) and I had serious plans to take over my bosses portfolio when he retired but a very brutal and honest conversation with senior management one day reminded me  that I would only ever be a pretty face to them and nothing more. I quit my job the next day.

 

I decided to go back to school and get my masters degree so that I would never have to work two jobs again; I managed to score a job at the University I planned on attending to eliminate that pesky tuition burden.

 

And that is where I’m leaving you my friends – the rest is BORING and very adult and due to litigation concerns I can’t talk about much of it. Let’s just say I ended  up where I wanted to start out – surrounded by books.

Sticky Jam Hands Goes Abroad*

Disclaimer: this is where this blog temporarily turns into a personal travel log. The following entry details my recent trip to Czech republic and Germany. If you want to skip the (lengthy) narrative and just look at the pictures that’s okay. If you are already bored and want to go back to watching cute cat videos that’s okay, but if you want to know where I went and what I saw than read on. If you want to hire me to travel to foreign lands and write about what I see and do than email me at Becca@stckyjamhands.com

 

Swarthmore to Germany
April 1, 2017

The hardest part about getting to the Czech republic was leaving Lucy at the airport – she’s 6 now and upset about her Mom going away, I hope someday she understands, someday when I’m old(er) and we book a trip like this together. Actually the hardest part was convincing my husband that having me gone for two weeks was going to be no big deal.

Getting to Prague was long but fairly uneventful. There was a concern that our original flight was going to be delayed and we would miss our German connection – this necessitated a 90 minute phone call to Luftansa to get us rerouted through Munich on a different airline, but it ended up being no big deal.

We flew from Philadelphia to Munich Germany leaving at 6:30pm Saturday night; I had two glasses of wine at the airport and swallowed a muscle relaxer on the plane, two more glasses of wine on the plane and I even managed to sleep a little bit.

Mom, was already impatient and ‘ready-to-be-there’ the second we got on the plane, but after wine at the airport and a dose of melatonin she reclined her seat, covered herself with a blanket and tried to get some rest however about 10 minutes into the flight when the beverage cart rode by us she immediately perked up (and I mean the literal second –  it was barely passed my head when her eyes shot open and her snack tray was down. She didn’t hesitate to let our steward know that it was her 75th birthday and that we were embarking on a Big Trip – you know in order to get free wine, but she needn’t have worried, not only was all the wine we got free it was poured with a HEAVY hand, I’m talking the big water cups full to the top, we only had two a piece but it must have come to about 20 ounces of wine for both of us.

Night night to us.

Munich to Prague
April 2, 2017

We landed in Munich sometime EARLY on the morning of April 2nd, we were barely awake or cognizant when we got off the plane and realized that to get to our next gate we needed to catch a bus to another part of the airport. In order to get to the bus we needed to go through security and both of us got patted down by a very handsy security agent.

After getting felt up and a navigating a very confusing bus ride we managed to find a cup of coffee and our gate to Prague. Getting to the plane however, involved another bus ride out to a distant air field to climb aboard a small commuter plane that was only half full. Mom and I had scored the emergency exit row, we stretched our legs out in front of us and fell asleep for most of the entire 40 minute flight into the Czech Republic.

We were concerned that after the mix up with the flight changes we would miss our airport pick up but thankfully there was a Viking agent waiting at the airport for us, we did miss the shuttle bus but she got us in a taxi whose cost was immediately refunded to us as soon as we got to the hotel.

We were already checked in to the hotel Corinthia when we completed the 30 minute drive from the airport, our program director Rik was there to greet us with our hotel keys, maps, itineraries, time tables etc.

Before we could make our way up to our 5th floor room we ran in to Tom and Kate in the lobby, we gave them a warm hello and sent them to the bar while we headed upstairs for a quick shower a change of clothes and cup of coffee.

The hotel was a tall 25 story newer hotel that was both more modern and farther from town than I expected, our room was nice with a large King bed and great water pressure in the shower. The distance to old town was taken care of by a complimentary Viking shuttle that ran from morning to night. Once, clean and caffeinated we headed downstairs and collected our friends from the bar and we all boarded the 3:00 shuttle to old town.

We arrived at the town center in the middle of their Easter Market, it was crowded but not unmanageable, we wandered around for a little while before we decided to grab a seat at an outdoor café across from the astronomical clock, we ordered a cheese plate and I got a beer while we talked and caught up, we stayed there long enough to watch the clock go off at 4;00, as Tom said “the most excited 20 seconds of our day”

We paid the check and once again walked around the Easter market, Mom and I picked up a few souvenirs before we headed down a side alleyway to get out of the main fray, we were headed toward a bar that Kate had heard about but that wasn’t open so we walked past in until we came upon another outside café where we took over one umbrella covered table. We had a few rounds of drinks and I had my first experience with the difficulty of the Czech language when I headed inside to the bathroom and was presented with two words I had never seen before, no pictures no other clues. I chose one at random (the one to the left) and got in and out of there as fast as possible in case I had chosen wrong. Fortunately, a quick google search back at the table told me my hunch had been correct.

We finished our drinks and headed back to the square to catch the 6:30 shuttle which (due to a communication error) never came, we ended up taking a taxi and after some hard nose negotiating on Kate’s part we got for a reasonable price.

Once back at the hotel we grabbed our jackets and headed out to a local traditional Czech restaurant that Tom and Kate had discovered the night before – you knew it was going to be good when you walked in because no one eating spoke English and there was a steady stream of locals coming in to pick up take out orders.

Mom ordered a ‘pork knee’ – literally the knee of some giant prehistoric pig skewered via some kind of scabbard to a cutting board and served with a large hunting knife. It was enough meat to feed a small village, Mom ate most of it. I ordered a delicious pork belly and we all drank beer, and then some more beer…

After dinner, we literally stumbled back to the hotel where I had enough time only to take my contacts out before falling unconscious in to bed.

Prague
April 3, 2017

Our first full day in Prague began with breakfast in the hotel where we met Tom and Kate and I discovered I could get baked beans and brown bread. We drank a lot of coffee and all jumped on the 10:00 shuttle.

The four of us parted ways at the town square – as I was on a mission to find the Narodni Knihovna – the national library of Prague which according to a very cryptically vague book I read was located down a small twisty alley not far from the Charles Bridge. This describes nearly everything close to the Charles Bridge, we literally wondered in circles for over an hour before I decided we needed coffee and found a small out of the way cafe where we stopped and got two lattes and rested out feet while sitting in the window seat, after taking advantage of a free bathroom I asked our waitress if she knew where the library was and she said, “of course, it right around the corner – out the door and to the left…” on a square we had walked through at least twice.

Despite this new information it still took us over 20 minutes to discover where we where supposed to go. We managed to gain entry to the card catalog room which was pretty awesome, millions of cards mostly written out by hand but unfortunately after a discussion with the circulation desk we discovered that the main reading room that I had hoped to see was under construction and closed to tourists.

Honestly, I was just thrilled at that point to actually have found it.

After being turned away we headed back outside and several wrong turns later end up in Wenceles Square where we randomly ran in to Kate and Tom who we were on their way to meet us back at the Easter market, we all walked together and headed to lunch at another small out of the way pub they had discovered the day before. We all had sausage and chips and beer and it was delicious.

After lunch we decided to use the free tickets to the chocolate museum that the hotel had comped Kate and Tom. We headed over to it and the best thing that I can say about the chocolate museum (except for the truffles that they gave you when you entered) was that it was free. The entire thing took 10 minutes to go through and reminded me of a junior high school science project. There is a museum for everything in Prague, by the way, from torture to sex machines to chocolate and everything in between. We exited quickly through the gift shop and made our way to the river, Tom and Kate had to head back to the hotel to catch their plane home and wanted a few more pictures. We said good bye and they went their way and Mom and I headed to the Charles Bridge – the Charles bridge is nothing short of spectacular (as bridges go) with two big gates on either end and statue after statue lining the sides of the low bridge.

We walked over the bridge past vendors selling everything from original watercolors to cheap jewelry and made our way to the other side of the river, as soon as we were across it started to rain, just a light, chilly drizzle which for me dressed in a tank top and light cardigan quickly became cold, we started up the hill meandering our way to the ‘castle’ on top. The castle is more of what I would call a palace, not a place of fortification but a place to entertain. We did not go inside but stopped to have our bags searched and padded down simply to walk through the grounds. The outside of the palace was pretty uniform and nothing particular caught my eye until we made out way to the opposite side to the citadel which was Hogwarts impressive and impossible to capture on film even with the good camera.

We went inside and walked around the outside and took a number of pictures and decided to head on, the rain getting harder and the temperature falling as well, before we were out of the palace grounds we found a small coffee shop were we stopped for lattes and the chance to warm up. My feet were cold and getting soar and even though Mom had a rain resistant wind breaker on it had no hood and neither of us were carrying an umbrella.

After finishing our drinks we headed back in to the rain and made our way as quickly as possible down the hill. Across the bridge and back to the bar that Kate had tried taking us to the night before. Called ‘the anonymous bar’ it is themed after the movie “V for Vendetta” and is very cool inside with large red velvet furniture, heavy drapery and smoky mirrors. The bar is known for its cocktails and the menu was extensive. Unable to make up our minds we asked the waiter for suggestions, he asked if it would be okay to surprise us, so we told him what we liked and he brought out two very unique cocktails, mine a vodka base with some serious citrus kick that had been blended slushy style and Mom’s which had a base of scotch and some kind of marmalade in it. Both drinks were delicious but together cost more than lunch for 4 had earlier; we only had one and left.

Back outside it was raining steadily, we had decided to go to an Indian restaurant for dinner and made our way there running from awning to awning to try and stay as dry as possible. The place we went was called the “Indian Jewel” and it was pretty good, we split a bottle of wine and some above average Indian food.

We caught the 7:30 shuttle back to the hotel, changed in to warm, dry clothes and headed to the lobby bar for a glass of wine (or two).

Prague
April 4th

Tuesday began much like Monday, with breakfast in the hotel and a ride on the 10:00 shuttle, this time just the two of us.

We headed into old town and once again crossed the Charles bridge with our destination goal being the Stahov monastery. We knew it was on top of the hill across the river somewhere and decided instead of walking through town we’d take the scenic route and go through a park located just south of the city. Walking on cobblestones all day the night before had started wearing on our feet.

The walk (through cherry trees) took us about a mile and half straight up, we passed a cute restaurant that wasn’t open and eventually arrived at a large fortification wall. We hung a right and followed it to an observation tower that looked out over all of Prague.

Over coffees we consulted a map and decided that in order to the get the monastery we had to continue around the top of the hill to the south until we would eventually just run in to it (I have to pause here and tell you how terrible and completely useless the map we had was). We once again headed out and walked and walked and walked, we walked so far that eventually we ran in to a defunct sports stadium across the street from some student housing. We had walked off the side of our shitty map; we knew we must have gone the wrong way.

The major factor of turning back was that I needed to go to the bathroom desperately bad and I walked in to the student housing complex until I found their dining hall and was able to jjimmy the lock on the ladies room to get in. I’ve never been so happy to get to a public bathroom.

We decided to head back straight over the top of the hill instead of taking the long way around (the way we had come). It took us all of 10 minutes to get back to the observation tower where we had started from. We asked a lovely German couple who spoke no English where the monastery was and they pointed in the opposite direction we had come from.

Low and behold 50 meters down the path to the left of the observation tower was the monastery. All in all we walked about four miles that we didn’t have to.

Happy to find our destination we made a beeline to the monastic brewery – this amazing restaurant/pub was deep underground in the hills above the monastery itself in the old catacombs of the church. Lit by candlelight and warmed by a kerosene heater the place was amazing. We ordered a cheese and sausage plate and both had 2 beers before we felt sufficiently refreshed and once again headed backup in to the sunlight.

We tried to get into the monastery museum with a credit card and ended up at an ATM around the corner, where due to a mathematical error I withdrew 5 times the amount of cash than I intended to. Oops.
Inside we found our fist, grumpy unfriendly Czechs – for the most part everyone we had run in to had been pleasant and accommodating and were just in general nice people. The women who ran the museum were older, heavyset women who weren’t taking any bullshit and clearly were not at work to have a good time.

We quickly toured the museum (two roped off libraries, a hallway containing a random assortment of odd collectibles and a small gift shop) before purchasing a few postcards and two posters, we got out of there quickly.

Eager to have (another) afternoon beer I suggested that we head back down the hill to a small local pub called the ‘bar bar’ located on the canal a stones throw from the Charles Bridge. We found it with little problem and I ordered a large beer while Mom got a coffee and we rested our feet and relaxed for a few minutes.

We decided to have dinner at a restaurant recommended by Viking not far from the square, but after getting back across the bridge we somehow got completely turned around (super easy to do) we wondered round looking for a familiar landmark for a good 30 minutes before accidentally stumbling upon a Harley Davidson shop. Mom had been looking for one and it was very fortuitous that it should show up now, not only did she buy some souvenirs but we also got direction to the the place we were headed.

Once more on the right track we headed outside and quickly found our way to the restaurant, there was a brief wait before we got seated. Mom ordered the goulash and I got a sausage which was okay – we split a bottle of wine.

We headed back to the hotel on the 8:30 shuttle where we changed in to our ‘lobby attire’ and headed downstairs for a last glass of wine. We did not linger long in the bar after our drinks.

Prague
April 5th

Our third day began with hotel breakfast and a ride in to town on the 10:00 shuttle.

We had considered going on the Viking sponsored walking tour but decided that by that time we had already seen everything they were going to show us so we skipped it.

Instead we headed to a place called “Bar and Books” that I really wanted to check out but we discovered that they didn’t open until 5pm, so we headed to a different outdoor café on Wencles square, had two lattes and people watched for a little bit. We then headed to souvenir heaven, a different outdoor Easter market where we purchased a number of trinkets for people back home.

We meandered our way back to the old town square and decided to get tickets to climb to the top of the astronomical clock tower. After a brief wait in line we climbed up a bunch of steps and had a great view over all of old town.

We left the tower and headed across the bridge to go to an outdoor restaurant I had seen the day before nestled under the bridge that I wanted to check out.  The place ended up being a French cafe, we sat next to the canal with views of the river and had some more wine and sausage. Afterwards after I took some picture from under the bridge then we headed back across the river to check out the old town brewery, we went there for two beers before heading back to the old town market for one last souvenir before we realized that we still had an hour to kill before we needed t o get back to the hotel.

We decided to have coffee somewhere on the square and chose a fancy outside café (the White Horse) but when we asked for a table they asked if we wanted to sit in their cellar (dating circa 1200 or something). Of course we said ‘sure!’

Once in the cellar we decided that we should have wine, so we ordered a glass (or two) and enjoyed the midevil atmosphere until it was time to grab the 4:30 shuttle.

Once at the hotel we changed in to clean clothes and headed back to the lobby. We ordered a glass of wine while we waited for the bus to the ‘folklore dinner’ to arrive.

The ‘folklore dinner’ ended up being cheesy dinner theater in a small barn with terrible wine. We sat with a lovely English couple named John and Lorraine whom we would get to know much better as the trip went on.

Once dinner was over, we were back on the bus, me humming “have nagela” over and over as it had been played during the show and gotten stuck in my head. (this drove Mom crazy)

Once back at the hotel we cracked open the mini fridge and had some wine and listened to some music before calling it a night.

Prage – Decin
April 6th

Our last day in Prague we got up early, packed our bags and got them down to the Viking Desk by 8am. We then stopped by the breakfast buffet for coffee and toast before checking out and paying our 1630 krona bar bill.

We took the 9:00 shuttle in to town with two more people from our boat – Sue and Tom,  we chatted with them on the way in and once on the square invited them to come with us, our goal for the day was to once again walk up to the monastery and have lunch underground in the brewery before we had to leave the city.

Tom and Sue also wanted to go up and see the museum so we offered to lead them, it took 5 minutes for Mom to get lost and lead us in the wrong direction. Tom ended up getting us back on track and we all successfully climbed up to the top of the neighboring hill. We left Tom and Sue at the museum and since it was too early for the brewery to be open Mom and I double backed down the hill slightly until we found a small, cute coffee shop where we sat and drank a latte (and used the bathroom).

The brewery opened at 11:00 and we ended up having to wait outside for a few minutes after our coffee, while standing there we made friends with the neighborhood cat and were the first ones to enter as soon as the door opened.

We sat in the same table we had sat two days before, we each got wine – Mom had onion soup served to her in a bread bowl and I got a ‘salad’ which ended up being a bowl of greens topped with a large round of fried goat cheese, it was delicious.

After a second glass of wine we walked back down the hill, back across the bridge and after a quick bathroom break headed back to the town square. I bought one last souvenir (wooden tulips for Lucy) and tried a cup of hot wine (terrible) while we waited for the 1:00 shuttle to the hotel.

We sat in the hotel bar and had coffee and then more wine while we waited for the 2:30 Viking bus that would take us to the ship to arrive.

As we left Prague these are the reflections that I noted in my journal:

  • The toilet paper there is terrible, like thin dollar store paper towels
  • The diet of the Czech people consists mainly of meat, potatoes, cheese, dumplings and gravy but despite all of this they seem pretty healthy and of average size. My theory for this is that because their bathrooms are so small they cannot afford to get fat.
  • Literally everyone in Prague speaks in English which makes it a very easy city to ease in to and to navigate, it also takes a little bit if the fun out of foreign travel, it also makes me feel like a stupid American for just speaking one language, and not even doing that one well.
  • There are no stop signs in the city and yet remarkably no one runs in to each other despite some (what I thought were) very close calls.
  • All of the trash trucks were Mercedes Benzs and the police cars were Peugeots.
  • Walking in the city is treacherous, no one stops for you. Trams especially will not stop, we actually learned that if a tram diver hits a person they get a 4 day paid leave, its like a little bonus for hitting tourists.
  • The sidewalks are all paved with Marble mosaics – they are beautiful and incredibly labor intensive to maintain, they’ve been there for 100’s of years and really add to the city’s beauty, they do, however, get slippery when its raining and if you are walking down from the castle on a day when it is drizzling (for instance) you need to be careful.
  • There are hundreds of spires in the city and most all of them are topped with gold, this is spectacularly impressive around sunset (and probably sunrise) when the sun is reflected off them.

Memorable Prague Moments:

  • The first time coming back across the Charles bridge the elastic in Mom’s underwear gives way and the only reason she was able to keep them on was because she was wearing pants, she spent the rest of the afternoon walking like she had to pee.
  • On the way to the dinner theater the couple behind us was having a political discussion and couldn’t remember the CA representatives name, they eventually gave up and started talking about other things, 20 minutes later out of no where Mom shouts out –“Barbara Boxer!” no one knew what the hell she as talking about.
  • The third day in to our trip I got my period (a full 10 days early) I had some stuff with me but not enough. While we were having lunch at the monastery I noticed a bowl of tampons by the sink, the second time we went there I took the whole bowl full – I stole all the feminine products that the monks had.

Decin

It took us two hours driving through the Czech countryside to reach the small riverside town of Decin. Decin was small but had a large monastery that was beautiful and a castle high above town (really a restaurant) that was quite photogenic.

We hopped off the bus and on to the boat, we met the captain and the manager and where given our room keys. The stateroom itself was tiny – 2 single beds with just enough space for one person to walk around them, they delivered our bags to the room and we had to unpack them and store them under the beds because there was no room to put them anywhere else.

As we were unpacking the best part of the entire trip happened, our house keeper, Anna, came in to introduce herself and remind us to put a note on the door when we went to breakfast , she was a little terse and seemed stressed out, my Mom said something like, “I’m old – tell her (pointing to me), she’s young she’ll remember”, Anna looked at her and said “huh, I am not thinking that you are more than 80 years old” Hahahahahahahahahahahahaha! I tried hard not to pee myself laughing.

As soon as we were done unpacking we made our way to the front of the boat, where the lounge/bar was. We quickly met the one other Mom/daughter duo on the boat – Mina and Jeannie, we sat with them and ordered a glass of wine.

After everyone was aboard and settled the captain and senior staff came to the lounge, introduced themselves and we had a champagne toast to ‘send us off’ the captain’s name was Joseph, the ships manager was Stefan, we already knew Rik and we met the chef (someoneorother) and the head housekeeper neither of which I remember.

After the welcome and toast we decided to go ‘dress for dinner’ so we did. We met John and Lorraine in the dining room and ate dinner with them, I had shrimp and bacon for dinner and we discovered the excellent bread that was available on the boat (it was really really good!!)

After dinner Mom and I had talked about leaving the boat to explore the small town of Decin but we decided to stay because the ‘entertainment’ for the evening was a local Czech woman who came to talk about the Velvet Revolution. I honestly cannot remember what she said (I’m sure it wasn’t because I was sucking down wine after wine all evening). I remember thinking that she did a good job. Soon after she was done both Mom and I went to bed.

April 7th
Decin – Bad Schandau – Dresden

Friday, Mom’s birthday day. We woke up to cold and rain and it never warmed up or got dry all day. We were set to embark at 7:00 and Mom and I had set our alarm so we could watch.

I was up and watching from inside (because of the cold and the rain) but Mom went outside to watch Captain Joseph turn the boat around, remarkable because the river was barely wider that the boat itself.

We traveled up the river while we ate breakfast, we ate with Stefan – the boat manager, who was very interesting and we learned that he was gay and lived in the Philippines with his partner who would meet him in Germany and work on the boat on their way back to Prague, he was really looking forward to this.

After breakfast we arrived at our morning destination – a small village named Bad Schandau in a region just over the German boarder in and area known as “Saxony Switzerland” because of its geographical resemblance to Switzerland.

We left the boat when we docked, where given big red Viking umbrellas and boarded a bus which drove us up up up until we got to a park made of giant rock formations and  was once the site of an old defensive fort. The views were spectacular and the day was foggy and cold so there were not many other visitors (I’ve been told it can get shoulder to shoulder crowded up there). It was hard to capture the area through photos and is something everyone should see themselves (which I guess is why it gets so crowded) it reminded me a little bit of Arizona, but lusher and more green.

We walked – slogged –  through the park and then made our way to the restaurant that is located up there, we had some coffee while sitting with two other guests (I can’t remember who) as well as two members from the crew – Zoltan the bartender and Telma the guest services coordinator, both of which were very nice people. Zoltan spent a good 20 minutes telling us all the drinks he could make for us on the boat, it really solidified our friendship.

Eventually we made our way back to the bus and then back to the ship where I literally wrung the water out of my socks and changed my entire outfit to get dry. I put on my only sweater I had brought (I did not pack correctly for this trip) and headed back to the lounge to drink the afternoon away.

Over several glasses of wine we sat with and got to know a couple (Beth and Mike) from Knoxville TN, they were great and became our go-to partners on the trip.  A little before dinnertime we sailed in to Dresden. Captain Joseph sailed in to Dresden, past the city and then backed up and docked on the south end so that we could get pictures. Unfortunately, it was still raining, dreary and hard to see. I went up on the sun deck  and took some pictures, I was up there MUCH longer than I planned and got soaking wet.

Dinner Friday was ‘German night, Mom got dressed up for her birthday but after getting soaking wet twice in the same day, I put on jeans and a nice shirt, I simply could not put on a dress. We sat with Mike, Beth, Charlie and his grandson Justin –  ate sausages and potatoes and drank many glasses of beer, the captain and crew toasted Mom for her birthday and we all had a very good time.

Back in the lounge after dinner it was ‘trivia’ night – we listened to small snippets of songs and had to come up with song name, artist and artists and nationality. Surprisingly, our group won, I don’t know how, we were all pretty drunk by the end. Rik MC’d the night and we all laughed a lot.

At the end of the game I got a text from my husband that he could call me – I hadn’t spoken to him or Lucy in a few days so I quickly got up to go back to the cabin (with the intention that I would return later) but after sitting down and trying to have a coherent conversation I thought maybe drinking  more wasn’t the best idea and when Mom came in and started getting ready for bed I decided I should do the same thing.

April 8th
Dresden

Saturday morning dawned gray and chilly but fortunately dry. We got dressed and had breakfast before going on a walking tour with an excellent guide who was a Dresden native. She gave us a wonderful tour through the city center and then into the museum where we saw many gold drinking vessels and the crown jewels – a giant green diamond. We also went through the main church in the city center – a protestant structure that looked as though Liberace decorated it personally. We went to the opera house and saw the many palaces August the Strong had built for all of his mistresses.

The tour wound back to the boat around lunch time and we decided to eat there, have a glass of wine (or 3) and some coffee before heading back in to town on our own. We needed to get some local currency and our search for an ATM machine inadvertently lead us to a big, modern shopping mall which we quickly walked in and out of and then decided to walk across the bridge to see the golden statue of Augustus the Strong atop his horse.  We stayed on the other side of the river just long enough to take some pictures and then walked back to the city center, we wondered around for a little bit and ended up at a little cafe in Augustus’s pleasure baths where we where going to order a beer and relax, but before we got service we both decided that it made more sense to go drink on the boat where we had already paid for our booze, also our feet hurt and were ready to rest for a little bit.

The afternoon had warmed up and the sun had come out so when we got back to the boat we found seats outside on the front deck and I had the chance to update my journal and sketch a quick skyline of the city.

Mom went inside to attend a lace making demonstration while I enjoyed some peace and quiet and drank for two outside (I just kept letting them fill my her wine glass the whole time )like she had simply run to the bathroom.

It was an enjoyable and relaxing afternoon. We had dinner with Beth and Mike and Jane and Dennis, Mom and I both had the rack of lamb which was delicious and we had another great meal with friends.

After diner we headed back to the lounge to hear some local musicians play – two violins and an oboe. I stayed awake by sketching the flowers on the bar but almost everyone else present started nodding off. As soon as they were done the entire ship went to bed except for Jeannie and I – I met her at the bar and they two of us and Zoltan (our favorite bartender) stayed up late, swapping stories of child rearing and dysfunctional childhoods, it was a lot of fun. I don’t know what time I headed to bed.

April 9th
Meissen

It was a little rough getting up Sunday morning, my plan had been to be up early to see us pull away from Dresden but I did not make it. Mom was up though and said it was pretty cool.

I finally got up around 7:45 and met her downstairs for breakfast. We arrived in Meissen not long after departing Dresden and at 8:45 we boarded a bus for a tour. Our first stop was to the porcelain manufacturer that Meissen is famous for. We got a tour of how the porcelain is made and an opportunity to spend money in their shop. The tour was interesting but porcelain is not my thing and after seeing how cute Meissen is I would have preferred to skip the hour or two that we spent there and done some more exploring.

Eventually we left the porcelain manufacturer and headed in to town, we had an excellent guide who walked us from the bus up to the castle. Meissen is a beautifully quaint midevil town that was undamaged in the war, it winds up a hill and there are many vistas where you can overlook all the crooked streets and all the red roofs.

We made our way down the hill into the main town square where they had an Easter market going on, we had a few minutes (not enough time) to walk around on our own, I bought some wooden Easter eggs and Mom and I had a glass of the local wine (not good) before it was time to get back on  the bus.

Back aboard it was sunny and warm and I sat out on the front deck in a rocking chair, drinking wine  and watching the river go by. We sailed through lots of un-populated areas where there was just trees full of mistletoe balls something I had never seen before and that I assumed where birds nests before I was corrected.

Mom left me alone to go attend a cooking demonstration and I came close to my perfect moment when at one point I was the only one outside, warm and with a full glass of wine in my hand, we sailed by a German family out for a bike ride, I waved and they waved back – simple but perfect.

Around 4:00pm we docked in another small midevil town called Torgau, Rik our director offered to do an informal walking tour of the town center and we went with him. The big claim to fame of the town is that it was where the Russians and the American’s met at the end of the war.

Sidenote- after the end of the war, during soviet occupation the Russians released propaganda that never mentioned the American’s had been there, the citizens didn’t find out until 1989 the American’s had liberated them.

We went to the war memorial and then into the palace where they still have bears in the moat to guard the town (we didn’t see the bears – it was cold). Mom and I walked up the outside spiral staircase which was beautiful and amazing because it was constructed 100’s of years ago without a center support.

We walked from the castle to the main square we were came upon an Easter celebration. Local kids where playing in hay and local adults were drinking at a beer garden set up under tents. It was beautiful and I felt like we had gone back in time and intruded on something special.

Some guests stayed in town but Mom and I walked back to the ship for more cocktails and the daily briefing, we ate dinner with Beth, Mike Judy & Dennis. I had a shrimp roll, Chinese noodles and and excellent chocolate souffle (more like a lava cake) we all liked it so much that we asked our servers if we could have it again the following night.

After dinner we retired to the lounge for a photo competition, once again MC’d by Rik, I had entered two photos that were well received but not the best ones, there were also some funny ones and with Rik’s commentary we all laughed a lot.

After the competition most everyone went back to their cabins and I – once again – met Jeannie at the bar and she and Zoltan and I closed the ship down for the night. I managed to crawl in to bed without waking Mom.

April 10th
Elbe River – Wittenberg

We pulled away from Torgau at 8am, Mom got up and dressed and left me to sleep in, but I was already awake. Instead of getting up I decided to lay in bed and open the blinds in our room, I laid in bed and watched the German countryside go by – it was lovely and relaxing. I had slept wrong the night before and my neck was very very sore, it was nice to just lay there.

Eventually I managed to get up and put some clothes on and met Mom downstairs in the dining room. I ate a bagel and some granola and started to feel better. At 10:00am after some Tylenol we joined the other passengers in the lounge for a short history of Germany (1945- present day) and then we had a quick discussion about the debarkation process (aka – pay your bill!).

After Rik’s talk we were served an early lunch. Mom and I decided to eat upstairs in the lounge instead of down in the dining room. I made myself a salad and ate it with a couple of glasses of wine and watched the captain sail us in to Wittenberg.

Wittenberg lays at the mouth of the Elbe and a small tributary, to dock the captain went past the tributary, back up in to it, turned the boat completely around and went back out to the Elbe so we would exit on the correct side of the ship. It was cool to see because the tributary was literally no wider than the boat itself. I watched all of this from the sundeck.

After lunch and a few more glasses of wine we left the boat and boarded a bus to go downtown Wittenberg where we met our tour guide, Christian for a tour that was 99.5% about Martin Luther. Christian was very enthusiastic but very hard to understand and after about 10 minutes I had learned everything I wanted to know about the protestant reformation but the tour went on nonetheless.

We started the tour at the castle church where Luther had been a teacher, walked all the way through the town center and ended at the Martinhaus where he and his wife had raised 6 children, it went on and on and on. We did get one small break in the town center where Mom and I had a truly awful cup of coffee and navigated a treacherous spiral staircase to use the bathroom. While we were in town the temperature dropped and the wind picked up and by the end everyone was freezing.

By the time we returned to the ship, Mom and I rushed to the bar for wine and then took it to our cabin where we started packing up our things. I took a hot shower to help relax my neck that was still very sore and after we were mostly packed and changed in to warmer clothes we headed back to the lounge to meet up with our friends and a toast from the captain for having us aboard. While we were drinking in the lounge we met Donna and Dennis from Toronto whom I liked immediately and when we finally went down to dinner we got one of the larger tables and Beth, Mike, Judy, Dennis,Donna and Dennis all sat with us. It was a great dinner – both food and company wise. I had scallops and a number of other things and we were all served the chocolate souffle from the night before.

After dinner we went back to the lounge for the evenings entertainment – two local actresses that put on a small skit about Catherine (martin Luther’s wife) and her best friend getting ready for their first ball. There was some audience participation and it was pretty enjoyable.

After the skit was over I realized I was exhausted and I wasn’t going to be able to stay up with Jeannie and Zoltan again. I said goodnight to them and goodbye to Zoltan since I wouldn’t see him again (there were hugs) and barely made it in to bed before I was asleep.

April 11th
Elbe – Berlin

We got up early on Tuesday to finish packing , we needed to have our luggage outside our staterooms by 7:45, we were done by 7:00 – left everything and went downstairs to have breakfast.

Reflections on the River Cruise:

  • Hands down I loved it – whether it was because of the amazing crew we had or all the truly awesome friends we met on the boat, the entire experience was top notch.
  • The food was excellent, especially the bread. The bread was nothing short of spectacular.
  • Service on the boat could not have been better, there was nothing we needed that wouldn’t have been provided to us and the bar staff were professional and friendly and if I could have brought home anything I wanted it would have been Zoltan and Ploman (Ploman was our waiter but at some point during the trip became my very best friend and personal wine server) this would have been difficult to explain to my husband.
  • We did not travel very far or very often. The distance from Prague to Berlin is not very far and I realized only after getting there that we were stretching out an eight hour boat ride into six days. We never traveled at night and the times when we were cruising the river were not long. I had expected to be spending long hours on the deck of this ship curled up with a cocktail and a book. I never once cracked open any of the 3 books I lugged with me while on the boat.
  • Because we didn’t ‘sail’ a lot the captain of the ship had a garden on the sundeck that he maintained obsessively, when I first boarded I thought how does he have time to do that? But the after a few days I realized his job was pretty easy, it’s really a sweet little gig that Captain Joseph had going on. Besides sailing a few hours a day (maybe) and seeing us off and back on the boat every time we left on an excursion his only real task is a champagne toast at the beginning and the end of the journey.
  • Every time we arrived back from an excursion we were greeted back on the ship with a small treat, hot apple cider when it was cold and rainy, small pieces of chocolate when it was warm – little things that really put a cherry on whatever we were doing.

 

We were off the boat and boarded our bus at 8:45. Our first stop on the way to Berlin was a small town called Wurltz known for the Summer palace and gardens of Duke Leopold III. Despite the fact that it was cloudy damp and no more than 40 degrees we decided to take a ‘gondola’ (really just  big row boat) around the lake we were told this was the best way to see the sites.

Ten of us piled in to this boat, rowed by a young German man who spoke no English, who was just able to point at things as they went by. At one point we passed what looked like an old barn and he pointed and said “Cow Haus” it was the funniest thing.

45 minutes later we finally got off the ‘gondola’ and made a beeline for the cafe, after a cup of hot chocolate to warm up we walked around the gift shop before once again getting on the bus. Our next stop was Potsdam but it would be awhile before we got there, as soon as the bus was out of the small villages and on the autobahn I fell asleep.

We arrived in Potsdam a little before lunch and we had two hours free time in the town center. We thought that would be more than enough time for lunch so we set off with Mike, Beth, Donna and Dennis to the end of the pedestrian walkway where there is a smaller and older version of Berlin’s famous Brandenburg gate, we found a small cafe next to it and got a table for the 6. We all had giant white asparagus for lunch (a German delicacy) and some good local beer, by the time we were done and we walked back to the bus our 2 hours was up.

We left the town center and headed to San Soucci (a summer palace for Frederick the great of Prussia). I wasn’t really interested in touring another palace but we had a great tour guide and the entire thing is pretty small it ended up being interesting and fun, we did the beginning and end in the rain and at the end hurried back to the bus to get warm.

The drive from Potsdam to Berlin was about 30-35 minutes, we eventually made it to the Intercontinental hotel situated on the edge of the Tiergarden at the very top of what was formally west Berlin. The hotel was really nice and by the time we arrived we were already checked in and so we just picked up our keys and went to our room (#649).

After the tiny size of our ship cabin the shear enormity of the hotel room was a welcoming sight. We had to wait some time for our bags to be brought up and in the meantime got a dinner recommendation from the concierge. I wanted a good old fashioned beer garden and he told us about one not far from the hotel.

We made some coffee and finally got our bags and then met up with Beth and Mike in the lobby, we had also run into John and Lorraine  (who happened to be staying in the room right next to us) and we invited them along with us to dinner.

After a few wrong turns we managed to find the beer garden – very quaint and right on the canal, the six of us got a table and some very good local beer, there was no sausage on the menu so I ordered a salad instead which was only okay (lots of cucumbers, blech). We had a nice dinner and then all walked back to the hotel. Mom and I said goodnight to our dinner companions in the lobby and headed to the hotel bar for a nightcap.

We ended up sitting with some other viking passengers in the bar and drank 2 glasses of wine – 15 euros a piece (yikes!) we deiced to call it a night after the wine and we headed upstairs to bed.

April 12th
Berlin

we woke up Wednesday morning neither of us having slept well – my neck was still hurting me very much and Mom had narrowly avoided a migraine by getting up to take some pills in the middle of the night. We both just wanted a hot shower and some coffee but the shower was complicated and I couldn’t figure out how to turn it on and we had drank the coffee the day before while we waited for our bags…

After struggling for a good 5 minutes with the shower I gave up and called the front desk. They sent up an elderly, distinguished gentleman in a tuxedo (I opened the door for him still in my pajamas). I explained that the water would not turn on and he looked at me, all disheveled, and said “Madam, you only need to turn it to the left…” Uh, huh – humiliated I quickly took a shower which once again had great water pressure and multiple jets, it was glorious.

We eventually got dressed and made it downstairs for breakfast, we sat with Jeannie and Mina and I had my usual granola and yogurt as well as several croissants that were flaky and buttery and lovely (and not very big).

At 8:45 we met in the lobby and boarded a bus for our Berlin tour . We spent the next 4 hours on a bus with Irene, our guide. We traveled all around Berlin, we got out at checkpoint Charlie(emotional) and again at the wall(there is a remnant still standing that artists use as a canvas) and then again at Brandenburg gate.

The tour was good but my biggest take away was Irene’s stories – she grew up in East Berlin, she lived in an apartment block which had one bathroom shared by 4-5 families, there were also public restrooms out on the street, green 8 sided structures which they called ‘the octagon bar’ as in ‘hey, I’m running out to the octagon bar!’

She also told us that as a child children they were required to learn Russian in elementary school but once they got to middle school they could chose another language to speak, she and her friends all chose English, not because she ever though she would leave east Berlin or ever interact with ‘westerners’ but because she wanted to know what the Rolling Stones were signing.

These stories remind me of what we learned from our guide in Meissen who also grew up behind the iron curtain, she went to University to study software engineering but when she got out she interviewed at a factory who asked her what religion was and she told them she was a catholic. They told her that Catholics weren’t allowed to work on computers, they hired her anyway and she literally sat at a desk for 4 years, just an empty desk unable to touch the computers – so that the soviets could say their unemployment rate was 0%.

Our tour ended at 1:00, we were dropped at the hotel and we made a plan with Beth and Mike to meet up in the hotel lobby in 30 minutes to go out to lunch.

We refreshed ourselves and met up with them to walk the 2 blocks to a huge department store called Ka-da-we which is world famous and very close to our hotel. The 6th floor of the store is a giant food ‘court’. At this point I was desperate for a sausage so after walking around a few minutes we parted ways; Beth ,being a vegetarian, wanted to go get fish and Mom and I headed to the butchers.

We grabbed seats at a bar – ordered two sausages and some beer which were both excellent. After we ate we walked around a little bit and just gaped at everything. We decided to grab some wine and sandwiches and just stay ‘in’ that night and be low key. We met up with Mike and Beth briefly again and they went off to go shopping and we headed to the wine section. After we had our food we explored the store for a little bit but it was HOT in there and both of us were pretty tired, we didn’t stay long.

We headed back to the hotel and had a glass of wine in our room during which I decided that I should take advantage of the hotels spa, I called down at 6:30 and made an appointment for a 7:00 deep tissue massage.

Mom went down with me and took advantage of the pool and hot tub while I got the best massage of my life by someone named… Wilham? Who knows or cares, it was great and I came out feeling much better. I drank a big glass of water, collected Mom and we headed upstairs where we got comfortable, finished the bottle of wine we had opened earlier, ate our sandwiches and listened to music.

April 13th
Berlin

Thursday, we both felt better and the day dawned warm and sunny, we decided to spend the day walking the city and seeing the things on foot that we only glanced at from the bus the day before.

After breakfast in the hotel we briefly met up with Mike and Beth in the lobby to say goodbye (most of the passengers on our ship left on Thursday morning). John and Lorraine and another couple from Seattle (that we didn’t know) were the only other Viking people staying for the extra two day extension. We made plans with John and Lorraine to have dinner together before heading out. We walked west through Teirgarden towards Brandenburg gate. The park was exceptionally beautiful, with well maintained paths and gorgeous trees and gardens, it is hard to imagine that in 1945 the entire thing was completely destroyed, it looks old from the inside.

One of the best things I love about Berlin is that it is a very green city – they really take care to have as many green spaces as possible and go so far as to give each and every tree in the city a number, every tree regardless if its on a sidewalk or in a park has a tag and a unique number and this way  they know at any given time exactly how many trees they have. (currently 483,000)

we got through the park and came out right at Brandenburg gate, we stopped for a few pictures and then walked over to the holocaust memorial (just a block away) I thought the memorial was well done, its interpretive and gives no names or  dates but when you are there you feel as though you are in a sacred place, Mom and I both left with tears in our eyes.

We left there and walked past the Gendermenmarkt – a square which boasts two midevil churches and a large museum, one of the churches is open and for 3 euros you can walk to the top of it – of course we did that – took a bunch of photos and headed out.

Another goal for our walk on Thursday was to finish the last of our souvenir shopping, we had consulted with the concierge about the best place to do this and he directed us to a shop very close to museum island, so we headed in that direction, crossed over the canal and decided that it was time to stop for a beverage, we entered the quaintest most adorable little bar where I had a beer and Mom got coffee and we shared some delicious lemon mouse thing with raspberry topping.

Feeling refreshed we continued down the same street and found some excellent little shops where we finished almost all of our shopping and decided to start back, we chose a different way to walk and soon found ourselves walking  past the site of the future “House of One”. (sidenote: the house of one is a new religious center where the heads of the Christian, Muslim and Jewish faiths and can meet and talk). On the back side of the construction zone is a small alleyway with a little cafe, we decided to go to this cafe for lunch.

I had sausage and beer and Mom got asparagus and potatoes and beer, the food was excellent and the place was super cute and not touristy in any way, the service was terrible (we had to interrupt our waiter’s lunch to get the bill) but it was a neat little experience.

After lunch we headed back towards the less historical and more commercial parts of the former east Berlin. We got to the ‘Mall of Berlin’ just as it started raining and popped in, I was on a desperate hunt for good German beer steins. We were unsuccessful in locating any and Mom was READY TO GO – so we headed out the other end of the mall just as the rained stopped.

Around this time I started getting tired and cranky, my ankles were beginning to hurt from walking (all told we did about 11.5 miles that day) and I was starting to slide into a funk. We decided to stop at the Sony center (an impressively huge cinema center) we sat at an outside cafe and got two lattes before heading on.

The Sony center is also on the edge of the Teirgarden and it was easy for us to cross the street and walk along the side of the park back to the area our hotel was in. I could feel myself getting grumpy and unpleasant and I had a brief thought about going back to the hotel and laying down for awhile but then I gave myself a pep talk and realized I only had a day and a half left of vacation and I needed to suck it up – I suggested to Mom that instead of going back to the hotel that we head to the little beer garden on the canal that we went to the first night for dinner. Mom readily agreed (most likely because she had to pee so bad she was about to have an accident). We headed there quickly, I ordered us beers while she went to the bathroom. We both perked up after that and spent a pleasant time drinking and watching the locals.

We got back to the hotel with enough time to refresh and unload our souvenirs before meeting John and Lorraine for dinner. The previous day I had run into another viking passenger who had gone to a place called “Bavarian” for lunch and really liked it – it was close and I suggested we try it.

I got us there, despite going the long way around, the place was cute, in the basement of a mall, a little too German (like an over the top TGIFridays for tourists –  but German). Despite that we had a nice dinner – Mom and I split a sausage, potato, meatloaf platter and an apple strudel – I had a couple beers and we had a lot of fun talking with John and Lorraine.

After dinner we headed back to the hotel and said goodnight to our friends, we drank some wine while I updated the journal and soon fell asleep.

April 14th
Berlin

Mom had managed to get us tickets to take a tour of Templehof, the famous Berlin airport built by Hitler, taken over by the American’s and served as the main drop for the 1948 Berlin airlifts, it was somewhere she really wanted to see. The tour was scheduled for 1:30.

After breakfast we had the morning free, Mom decided to head back up to our room to start packing up (fortunately we had both come with room to spare in our luggage because we ended up buying a significant amount of gifts).

I decided to take advantage of some free time and go out on a last ditch effort for good German beer steins. I headed out to make my way back to Ka-da-we but realized as soon as I set out that it was Good Friday and nothing was going to be open. I checked the stores anyway and then decided to just wander around, I went to the memorial church (a church close to our hotel that had been half destroyed in the war and instead of rebuilding it or knocking it down they chose to leave it there as a reminder).

I walked about 3 miles before I got a text from Mom that she was done doing what she was going to do. I met her in front of the zoo (also close to our hotel) and we walked a block or so away to a coffee shop where we waited forever for service, eventually I got a hot chocolate and mom got coffee and we sat in the window and watched people walk by.

I had done some research about places to have our last dinner in Berlin and I suggested that before we head back to the hotel to get a cab to Templehof we walk by one the of the choices and check it out.

The place was cute and very authentically German, far from the touristy areas and also further than I thought it would be from the hotel. We had to walk back to the hotel QUICKLY to get our things and hail a cab to the Templehof tour.

Despite the time crunch we arrived with plenty of time to spare, got checked in and waiting for about 15-20 minutes before it began. Our tour guide was a young architecture student at the University who gave us an excellent tour and even took us underground to the bomb shelters as well as the old archive that was accidentally blown up when the Russians arrived. It was creepy and old and awesome.

The tour took over 3 hours but we didn’t realize that until the end when we discovered it was after 4:00 as we got a taxi back to the hotel. By the time we made it back we were starving. We had tentatively made plans to dine again with John and Lorraine, so we stopped in their room and told then that we wanted to go out early and further away than they probably wanted to go (neither of them were big walkers). They chose to do their own thing and we said goodbye to them.

On our way out of the hotel I made a suggestion of another possible restaurant that was behind the zoo and perched on the edge of the Terigarden and the canal, we decided to head that way and check it out. Our route took us past the back of the zoo where we were able to see emus and flamingos and all sorts of animals. We did find the beer garden/restaurant on the other side of the zoo and it was cute and looked like a great place but very informal, no table service and had more tables outside than inside (it was pretty chilly outside).

We decided we wanted to sit inside and be waited on so we continued on and went back to the place that we had walked by earlier. I am glad that we did, the food and beer and the place we went to was exceptional – the restaurant was very busy and we got a small table in a walk way and an admonition that we couldn’t be there more than an hour (our table was previously reserved). We ate, drank and got out of there and decided to head back to the beer garden we passed up for dinner for one last drink before heading back to the hotel.

We made our way there, got a seat inside at their very small bar, ordered beers and talked about our favorite parts of the trip, when I asked Mom what she liked best she said “All of it except the Martin Luther stuff” I wholeheartedly agreed.

We finished our beers and once again walked behind the zoo to our hotel where we got ready for bed and an early morning.

April 15th
Germany – Philadelphia

We were up EARLY Saturday morning because we had a taxi scheduled to take us to the airport at 7:15 and we both wanted to get coffee and breakfast before heading out. We were downstairs, luggage in hand a little after 6am, we checked out and were going to head to breakfast when we learned that on the weekends they don’t start breakfast until 7:00. Disappointed we looked for other options, but Germans are not early risers and there was nothing else open. The concierge took pity on us and arranged for a pot of coffee and a plate of croissants be brought out to the lobby for us.

We sat the the lobby eating our breakfast and drinking coffee until 7am. We chatted briefly and said goodbye to Rik who had come down to see us off and honestly couldn’t have been a better director or a nicer person, he made the trip even better than it already was, he was on the way home to England for his own holiday, we wished him well, Mom invited him to Maine and he saw us off.

The trip home was uneventful, we were at the Berlin airport 90 minutes earlier than we needed to be, we flew from there to Frankfort where I finally managed to buy some fairly authentic steins and then from there we flew to Philadelphia and after waiting for thousands of spring-breakers ahead of us in customs we finally got back to the house around 4:30.

Reflections of Berlin:

  • The beer was awesome. AWESOME and I’m not really that much of a beer person.
  • Berlin as was different from Prague as you can get, it was more modern than I expected, but since the majority of it is only between 27 – 72 years old I guess it’s not surprising.
  • I was afraid that he city would make me sad because of all of the Nazi history  but I really felt that they do a nice job of remembering what happened, reminding everyone it would never happen again and trying to move on.
  • Outside the main entrance to the U-bahn (the subway) there is a small memorial that sais something like “Here is a list of atrocities that we shall never forget so that they shall never happen” – and it lists 13 concentration camps.
  • The outline of the wall can still be seen on the ground in the form of double cobblestones where it once stood.
  • Overall I found the German people awesome, warm and welcoming. They seemed full of life and ready to have a good time, anytime.

*Alternatively titled “200 glasses of wine in 14 days”

Everything* You Want To Know

I’ve had something of writers block/struggles with appropriate content with this site for the past few months and that’s why I’ve taken a bit of a hiatus. I’ve been trying to come up with something not politically driven but still doesn’t dismiss what’s going on in the world today. It’s a difficult conundrum and not one that I am equipped to rectify, but because I have a couple of things to say I thought I would interview myself again, I feel like the last time this happened it was moderately successful and perhaps it can be so again, who knows, I’m making all of this up as I go along:

Interviewer: “good morning, how are you today”

Me: “Good, thanks for asking”

Interviewer: “Perhaps you could fill us in on what’s been happening with you for the past couple months?”

Me: “Sure, I’ve been doing the regular things, you know going to work, trying to successfully get Lucy through Winter and first grade, taking care of my Father, protesting the current administration,  joining weight watchers to lose my “Holiday-I-Want-To-Eat-All-The-Things” weight. Yesterday I celebrated the 13th anniversary of when I met my husband…”

Interviewer: “That sounds like a lot of things, could you elaborate on how Lucy is doing?”

Me: “She’s great, she tells me things like “Mom, I don’t find dinner to be entertaining enough, I think the reason that I take so long to eat is because I’m super bored.” And one day when I spent the entire day in my pajamas (tucked modestly underneath my clothes), she told me “Mom, you really need to start taking better care of yourself, you aren’t setting a very good example” But despite all of this and the fact that she can sound like a middle-aged school principle when she talks she’s still very much a little girl, she likes to watch cartoons, play with her dolls and build snowmen, she decided that she wanted to take a break from chapter books and go back to reading picture books at night. Her very favorite things are piggy back rides and tickle time.”

Interviewer: “She is growing up so fast! How are you dealing with that?”

Me: “Oh phantom interviewer it scares me shitless. Honestly I try not to think more than a day or two ahead or I just start to lose my mind. There are playdates that she goes to on her own and I know that soon those will turn into evenings out with friends, teenage sleepovers, dates, etc. How can I keep her safe and let her go at the same time? How do I adequately capture this time in her life so that both of us remember it? What happens when I don’t have the answers she’s looking for anymore, who will she turn to then? How can I get something legally binding drafted so that she is obligated to let me live with her in my old age like we’ve talked about so many times? In short I’m a hot mess about all of this”

Interviewer:  “Speaking of hot messes, do you want to briefly describe your recent political activism and how you are feeling about what’s going on?”

Me: “Sure, I went to Washington for the Women’s March in January because I am very afraid of what is going on and the potential that it has to not only disrupt our current way of life but if not handled properly to war and destruction. The march made me feel hopeful but also completely helpless because while it showed a lot of people believe what I believe I don’t think it changed the minds or attitudes of anyone making the decisions.”

Interviewer: “What are your biggest concerns?”

Me: “I have many big concerns, the safety of my family is always at the forefront and the current diplomatic ‘agenda’ is certainly worrisome, I am afraid that we have someone dealing with people and situations they are ill-equipped to deal with and with a temperament that does not lend itself to diplomacy. I am worried that the earth is reaching an environmental tipping point and that as human beings we need to change our way of living with and thinking about nature and we have an administration that seems to think that is a dumb idea and has not only put a media blackout on the EPA but also deleted the Whitehouse website on climate change. Not to mention the travel ban that seems not only arbitrary and malicious, but doesn’t even serve the problem that it seemingly addresses. I could go on and on…”

Interviewer: “Let’ stop there. At the end of the day are you hoping that the current administration fails?”

Me: “No – absolutely not. I hope that I am wrong about everything, I hope that in four years I am generally surprised and can say ‘wow that went ok’. Failure for them means failure for us and ultimately we are all in it together whether we like it or not.”

Interviewer: “Switching topics, how’s your new year’s weight watchers goals working out”

Me: “Really good – I’ve managed to lose my extra Christmas weight and then some. I don’t really like to talk about my struggles to lose weight – I mean it’s pretty personal and also really boring to those reading about it, but it’s something a lot of us have to deal with. I do find weight watchers to be the best tool out there, if you do what you are supposed to do it will work. Sure there are nights that I come home and  polish off a bottle of sauvignon blanc before heading to bed, and I did eat most of a plate of bar nachos last night for dinner but if you manage to have more good days than bad days than it will work out. I have a trip coming up and my biggest motivation is not to look fat in all of my pictures.”

Interviewer: “Thanks for that, of course now I want some wine… So what else would you like to talk about, your Dad? Your anniversary”

Me: “There isn’t a lot I want to say about my Dad – it isn’t an ideal situation and I struggle daily to find a good balance of how much time and mental anguish I devote to him. My biggest wish is that an adult would swoop in and handle everything but you know what? I’m not sure I know any adults just people my age pretending that we know what we are doing. My husband, on the other hand is great – it’s been 13 years now and there is only 3 or 4 things I would really like to change about him (I can say that – he never read this blog ((that’s probably one of the things I would change)). But honestly I couldn’t have picked a better partner or father for my child, he’s great and even when I’m feeling frustrated I can remember that. I wouldn’t trade him for anything.

Interviewer: “You haven’t mentioned anything about work”

Me: “You are right, the truth is I’m not really supposed to talk about my work. That makes it sound scary and mysterious, but it’s not. I have a great job that I like very much – I work with people who are awesome and not at all crazy. I have a certain freedom to learn and do things that I want but at the same time a good support system to catch me if I fall. I can’t complain and I probably can’t really elaborate. Let’s just say ‘work is good’.”

Interviewer: “That all sounds very positive, with everything going on with you right now is there anything you feel you are dropping the ball on?

Me: “ That is an excellent question. Beyond the regular stuff like flossing my teeth and moisturizing I have been terribly remiss about a few things. One of them is my Christmas thank you cards. I send out thank you cards every year but this year I haven’t and if we are being honest I probably won’t get to it so really quick I’d like to thank the following people – My Mom, Lucy loves the jeans you got her, the flower embroidery has finally turned her attitude towards jeans positive which is super helpful because its cold and otherwise she just wants to wear shorts and skirts all the time. Also, the timeshare in August is going to be great and we are all very much looking forward to that trip. To my Mother-In-Law – you out did yourself AGAIN this year, Lucy is over the moon in love with her American Girl Doll, her hatchimal and everything else you got her, your sheer generosity always leaves me at a loss for words. To my sister in law Jessica – do not ever EVER buy us poo-pouri again, Jason uses this ALL the time and 6 – 7 spritzes more than recommended. Our bathroom constantly sells like lemons and poop (I love you but please… no more). To my sister Beth and my friend Stacy thank you for adding to our lego collection, I have almost become immune to the pain of stepping on them. And to everyone else (friends and family)– thank you for everything! I promise to have my act together better next year.

Interviewer: “Wow, ok. Can you tell us what your plans are for this website?”

Me: “yes, I really really want to get the funny back. I think now, more than ever people need that. I’ve been writing a lot of boring/technical things for my job which has taken over my tone and I need to work on leaving that in my office. I recently wrote a post about women who wear sensible shoes (a good friend asked for this) so look for that soon. I’m also working on a post of craft projects to do with dog hair. I have SO MUCH  dog hair in my house right now… I hope that I will soon resume regular posts.

Interviewer: “thanks so much for answering all if my questions. Any parting words? ”

Me: “Buck up everyone,  there’s only 25 days to daylight savings, I truly believe we will all feel better when we see the sun more.”

Peace out.

 *Probably not everything

2016 – A Year in Books

There is nothing like being in a library all day that makes you want to read. I started this year not really in to books – the first 5 titles on this list took me until May to read, but once I started my new job I couldn’t seem to read fast enough. Here are 28 reviews for your perusal:

dead-mtn

Dead Mountain

I liked this book a lot, it was an excellent example of investigative journalism. The book tells the story of the unsolved deaths of nine Russian hikers. I could have done without the authors personal conjecture at the end – but his ideas certainly did not ruin the story.

potty-mouth

The Potty Mouth at the Table

After the seriousness of Dead Mountain I decided to lighten things up with a little Laurie Notaro. I liked this book but not as much as her earlier works.

maddadam

Maddaddam

What the? This was the third book in a series by Margeret Atwood, the first was one of the best things I ever read, the second was just okay but this one I could barely get through… ugh.

fool-assassin Fool’s Assassin

I might be a nerd, but the day that Robin Hobb revived the story of Fitz Chivalry was a great day. For Hobb fans, this book did not disappoint.

fools-quest

Fool’s Quest

I tried so hard to space out these books to make them last longer, but I lack self control and devoured them in a weeks time. This is the second in the trilogy and now I have to wait until March to read the last one – look for it in next years review.

coffee

Coffee, Tea or Me

Totally fun and irreverent tale of two stewardesses in the 60’s. I picked this up for a quarter at a library book sale – it was totally worth it.

freedom

Freedom

A very solid novel – I got this out of the book swap bin at work and enjoyed it enough to pass it along.

boy

About a Boy

Excellent. I never read this because I wasn’t sure I could relate but found this (again) in the book swap bin at work and I’m very glad I picked it up. It was quick and sweet.

backpack

A Bear, a Backpack and Eight Crates of Vodka

Another excellent book, this is the true story of Lev Golinkin’s family fleeing Russia and immigrating to the US. This book was well written, it came across as both horrifying and humorous, I enjoyed it a lot.

marley

Marley & Me

I know I’m a little late to the party on this one, but it took me getting my own Marley to want to read it (I have a hard time with books about dogs, they always end the same way). I thought this was a great book and in the end when I cried myself to sleep I was able to wake up to a Marley puppy poking me in the butt to get out of bed.

wally

Couldn’t Keep it all to myself

Another library sale find – I picked it up because of Wally Lamb, but it wasn’t written by him. This book contains essays written by the inmates of York correctional facility. It was okay, some where better than others, it was all very Orange is the New Black.

string

String too Short to Be Saved

Excellent, this book made me nostalgic for something I didn’t even know about. Well written, it’s like a delicious meal you want to keep eating.

dive

The Dive from Clausen’s Pier

Sad. A quiet bittersweet novel- I liked it, I didn’t love it.

london

Imagined London

Not the book for me – this was a slim book about the London of classic literature and the London of today. Not ever having been to London  I was completely lost.

nightengale

The Nightingale

Another excellent book, a page turner about world war II – it reminded me of All the Light We Cannot See which was one of my favorites from last year.

lacuna

La Lacuna

The first novel from Kinsgsolver in 12 years. It took me a long time to get in to this novel – in the end I really enjoyed it. Maybe not as much as the The Poisonwood Bible.

mindy

Why Not Me?

I really enjoyed this book – you can read all about it here: https://stickyjamhands.com/2016/08/12/an-open-letter-to-mindy-kaling/

tractor

A Short History of Tractors in Ukrainian

This was a weird little book – it started out funny but didn’t stay that way. I kinda liked it – I didn’t really like it.

owls

Let’s Explore Diabetes with Owls

I really like David Sedaris and I really liked this book even despite the turtle chapter. You can read about it here: https://stickyjamhands.com/2016/12/02/an-open-letter-to-david-sedaris/

fikry

The Storied Life of A.J. Fikry

This book was okay, I read it in two days- I thought the premise was good but it lacked character development.

houebroken

Housebroken

My second Notaro book this year, it was okay – have I mentioned I like her earlier stuff better?

what

What the What?

Excellent – everyone should read this book. A true story billed as a novel, eyeopening and enjoyable.

england

I Served the King of England

Preparing for my upcoming trip, I read this because it was recommended reading for visiting Prague. It was okay, a little bit weird and I’m not sure how it’s going to come in handy when I’m there.

angels

The Killer Angels

I read this book as research for a trip I took to Gettysburg. It was very readable and by the time I got to the battlefield I was able to ask questions like I actually knew what I was talking about.

postards

Postcards from the Edge

I read this well before Carrie Fisher died because I was looking for some comic relief after the civil war and it occurred to me I had read almost all of her books except this one. I will miss her greatly she was an excellent storyteller.

time-being

A Tale for the Time Being

Really excellent. If I had to pick my favorite book of the year this would probably be it. It took me a long time to get through it but was totally worth it.

german

The Good German

I read this to get a feel of what Berlin was like right at the end of World War II, I liked it more than I thought I would especially considering at it’s heart it was a murder mystery.

sellout

The Sellout

Still reading this book – it is dry and satirical and outrageous, I really really like it

Why My Current Job is Better Than my Last One

There are a number of reasons why my current job is better than my last one, many of them involve the absence of spreadsheets and budget preperation. My new job surrounds me with books and let’s me write and publish articles about things I’m only vaguely familiar with. I’m pretty sure I’m never going to be managing an audit and I am only required to attend one meeting a month – a meeting which is more often than not cancelled.

Yes, there are many reasons to like my new job more but I think the best thing so far has to be the Christmas party (obviously the most important factor regarding any employment opportunities). Last year, despite working at a non profit, we spent a relatively large amount of money renting out a karaoke bar. This might seem fun to some of you but to me it was akin to he 7th level of hell. First of all the space was too small for our group, making forced social interactions unavoidable, alcohol was limited to one drink a person and we ran out of food before I could make it through the buffet line. Last year I huddled on a corner stool at the end of the bar and spent the afternoon worrying how to factor the expense in to my year-end budget.

This year my employer is hosting a ‘holiday luncheon’ that you can attend (or not) and that you can bring your family to (or not) it’s located in a large area with lots of food and when you are done eating and being antisocial you can leave for the day. And the best part about it? I already scheduled that day off. Nothing says ‘Merry Christmas’ to your coworkers like taking vacation time away from them!

7 Things She’ll Talk About To Her Therapist

I have a lot of Mom friends who are constantly worried that they aren’t ‘doing it right’ that they are screwing up their kids in vast and various ways.  I, too, often wonder how many years of psychotherapy Lucy will need to be able to get past her childhood. I am sure every parent out there has the same fear, but today I am here to make you all feel better about yourselves and superior to me in every way.

Today I’m giving you a list of the ways that  KNOW I’m fucking up my kid, things I do that simply aren’t right – I know they aren’t right and yet I continue to do them. Please feel free to comment with your own unique parenting downfalls.

In the meantime, here they are in no particular order:

  1. I laugh when she falls down. I know, I know… I simply cant help myself. (Sidenote: this really upsets her, no parent should do this, ever).
  2. On the weekend I’m pretty laxed about brushing her teeth or giving her vitamin pills. Seriously, it’s like a slumber party up in here on the weekends – normal rules do not apply.
  3. I bribe her with candy to be good – sometimes its the only way that ever happens.
  4. I watch her sleep – I’m super creepy Mom at night time, someday I’m afraid she’s going to wake up and find me sitting next to her, drinking a glass of wine just watching her sleep for minutes at a time.
  5. I put parmesean cheese on all her vegetables – I know this is going to ruin her as an adult when she’s out on a date and complaining bout plain broccoli.
  6. I steal quarters out of her piggy bank ( mostly for parking) sometimes I take dollars when I really need them. I don’t think I’ve ever replaced anything.
  7. I hide in the bathroom to text my friends so that I don’t have to play barbies with her.

You are welcome internet – you are welcome.

An Open Letter to David Sedaris

Dear Mr. Sedaris,

Long time reader, first time correspondent. I have read many of your books – five in fact, which is a lot when you think about how many authors and books there are out there. I know for sure I’ve read at least five of Ernest Hemmingway’s books, but you know he’s Hemmingway.

I really wanted to reach out to you and tell you that the last book I read Let’s Explore Owl’s with Diabetes was really great, I enjoyed hearing about your 50th birthday and your colonoscopy, your Parisian dentist and your randomly close relationship with a telecommuting sales rep. But I must be honest with you and your essay about the turtles –  WTF David (May I call you David?) that is some fucked up shit. And I get it, I do, we all do some crazy stuff when we are kids. Once I…well, I certainly didn’t starve five loggerhead turtles in an aquarium in my bedroom. Or maybe I did, but you know what? I wouldn’t write about it. I mean, maybe I starved dozens of endangered sea creatures in a large open air pit in my back yard, but good god no one will ever know. This is the kind of stuff you only talk about after one too many glasses of wine to the wife of one of your husband’s coworkers that you barely know and then wake up the next morning with a tightness in your chest and realize that you can never go to one of his work parties again.

This is just some friendly advise for your future books – I love you and I honestly hope someone somewhere sometimes utters the phrase, “Have you Read Becca’s book – she’s like a female David Sedaris.”

But I didn’t open up this new email window to compare you to Hemmingway, I wanted to say – David, WTF with the turtles?

Love,

Becca

Obligatory Election Post

On the eve of the election I have been surprised by many things but one of the most surprising is how everyone on the internet seems to be writing a political post on their personal blogs. Seriously, I read two* this morning alone. Posts from people that don’t work for news organizations and write mostly about the novels they are in the middle of or their cats.

This got me thinking – OMG am I supposed to be writing my own political statement here at Sticky Jam Hands? It hardly seems the right platform but ALL. THIS. PEER. PREASSURE!

A girl can only take so much – but because I know I’m not going to change anyone’s mind about anything and we are so super emotionally charged about all of this and because it has basically ruined TV and Radio for the past nine months I’m going to use this opportunity to list a few things that would be worse to endure for three quarters of a year than political elections. This way I can check the box next to –Political blogging and you can all breathe a sigh of relief that we aren’t dealing with these things instead.

In no particular order, my list of 9 things worse than the election:

  • Stabbing myself in the eye  (for nine months)
  • Battling a yeast infection (for nine months)
  • Watching Gilbert Godfry talking (for nine months)
  • Having that dream where all of your teeth fall out (repeatedly for nine months)
  • Attempting to call an IT support line to explain a problem you only just barely understand (for nine months)
  • Trying to fill out a home mortgage request application (for nine months)
  • Contracting a horrible flesh eating disease (every day for nine months)
  • Being hungover on an airplane (for nine months)
  • Child Birth (for nine months)

Feel free to add your own list item in the comments below. Happy voting everyone!

*Clearly an accurate representation of the internet as a whole

He’s the King

Fine Art
Fine Art

Not long after completing my “Lost Years “series I hosted an out of town guest who was present during several of my lost years. While in my house he remarked that it was sad “Velvet Elvis” wasn’t featured in any of my entries. Velvet Elvis, for those of you not in the know is a classic art – Elvis painted on velvet (big surprise there); Elvis has hung in every house/apartment/condo that I have lived in since I was a teenager.

I agreed it seemed a terrible omission and promised that I would write Velvet Elvis’s story in his own featured blogpost.

TaDa

Velvet Elvis came to me because my Mother is crazy*, and being crazy she has unusual relationships with other crazy people that for a period of time in the late 1980’s involved purchasing cheap gag gifts to give out periodically. My Mother bought Velvet Elvis on the corner of Rt 302 and 115 out of the back of some guys van for less than $5.00, for a few years it was passed from hand to hand during staff parties and birthdays. For some reason my 13 year old self fell in love with Velvet Elvis and was unnaturally overjoyed when my Mother received him back as a re-gifted gift a few years after her initial purchase.

When he returned to us, I put my foot down and begged my Mom not to get rid of him; I hung him instead in my bedroom next to my celebrity posters that I had carefully cut from the pages of 16 and Bop magazines. It remained there, a veritable ‘Where’s Waldo’ of incongruous items until I was 18 and my parents decided to hold a garage sale while I was out of town. I returned to find all of my childhood toys gone, many treasures lost and Velvet Elvis missing.

OMG

I frantically ran around asking everyone at the sale or that had attended the sale what befell my beloved fine art. I discovered that it had been purchase by our paperboy, Aaron who lived down the road from us for some ridiculous amount like a quarter.

The thought of my beloved Elvis in the hands of this non appreciating pre-teen was too much for me, I marched directly to his house and asked under no certain terms how much it would cost to buy Elvis back – since he was a reasonable and sensible kid he asked me for $10 – which I gladly gave him fully accepting the fact that I had been ripped off.

When I moved out of my parents’ house, the day after high school graduation, Velvet Elvis was securely packed in the trunk of my car, when I moved into my Freshman Dorm room he was the first thing that I hung up and even when I lived in a dilapidated crack house** in Vineland NJ after my first year of college and had most of my possessions stolen Velvet Elvis survived and made his way back to me.

The day I boarded the Sunset Limited to move to CA I showed up at Amtrak’s 30th street station with two steamer trunks and a suitcase only to be informed that I could have a maximum of one bag with me – I quickly repacked, taking only my favorite summertime clothes and of course… Velvet Elvis.

When I finally did arrive in San Diego I immediately hung him up next to futon mattress on the floor that served as my bed and knew that everything was going to be okay.  Over the next seven years as I moved around the San Diego area I lost and gained many possessions but Velvet Elvis always had a spot of prominence wherever I found myself to be.

When I moved back east he lived for a while in and around Rittenhouse Square and then when my future husband and I moved in together I hung him directly opposite our front door, I did this because Elvis deserved a good view, but also to see if I had made the right decision to move in with my then very new boyfriend. To his credit Jason never batted an eye at Elvis being front and center and he even made a point to hang him prominently in our first house we bought together.

Today, Velvet Elvis resides in our vastly underutilized family room. But I have big plans to take this room back from the dog who has had free range of it for OVER A YEAR now and redecorate using Elvis as the main focal point.  If only I could contact someone at HGTV to help me figure out how to do this.

*It’s okay, my Mom knows I love her, and she also knows that she’s crazy.

**Completely unbeknownst to me when I moved in.

Bonus Track

Aw snap… you thought I was done, but this horse isn’t dead yet. Call this story “the lost years part 6 and a half”:

Do you ever find yourself doing unspeakably crazy things? Like you are watching yourself from afar and you are powerless to stop it? I can think of three distinct times in my adult life that I have gone bat shit crazy and as much as I wanted to stop myself I was unable to – this is one of those times.

It was the end of the 90’s – probably sometime mid 1999ish, who knows? I was living alone in my one bedroom on University Ave and decided one day that even though I loved my apartment and my solitude I was 24ish and maybe I should think about being around people my own age, in a setting that was somewhat less responsible than the one I had created for myself. I decided to find a roommate and move closer to the beach.

I put an ad in the Pennysaver, something along the lines of “want to find the perfect apartment, with the perfect roommate? Call me!’ I was bound to find someone good, right? I got hundreds of calls – I got calls from a lot of scary sounding people. I got a call from an entire platoon of marines looking for somewhere to ‘live’ when not on deployment, I got a call from a man I’m pretty sure wanted to pimp me out and offered to get me any place I wanted – I got so many calls that I eventually pulled the ad and stopped answering my phone.

But I got one call from a reasonable sounding girl who was also in her mid 20’s who lived in Ocean Beach but had recently found an available two-bedroom townhouse seven blocks from the ocean that she could not afford on her own – it sounded perfect, it sounded too perfect. I immediately went to meet this person whom we will call Samantha. She was living in a tiny one bedroom ‘cottage’ that was tastefully decorated, she seemed like someone I could get along with, she had a small dog that after a trial meet and greet was tolerated by Ruka.

We toured the two-bedroom townhouse that was big and bright and just a little bit 70’s mod to be fun – we picked bedrooms, I filled out an application – in my head I was already blending our living room furniture and determining how the new commute would fit into my work and school schedule.

I was on my way out the door with my landlord’s notice in hand when I decided to call her to confirm move-in dates and that’s when she tells me that she thought I should know she was still interviewing other potential roommates. WHAT? THE? HELL? I had already filled out the application and paid the application fee, I had already taken boxes from work – I had already created a new life in my head. I was beyond pissed off.

Without stopping to think about what I was doing I immediately grabbed my keys and drove to Ocean Beach ready to confront her in person, I thought maybe I could still be reasonable and talk this thing through. I called her from a pay phone around the corner from her place and told her I’d like to meet with her  – she got so outraged that I had come ‘into her neighborhood’ that she basically hung up on me.

At that point what I should have done was turned my car around and head home, cut my loses and be glad I dodged a bullet, but fuck Samanatha, you know? She called me, she asked me to see this apartment she found, she asked me to fill out an application. I nearly gave notice and lost the last affordable, rent controlled apartment within easy biking distance of my office. OMG – I WAS MAD!

Instead of going home I stopped at a dollar store bought a pad of paper and a pen, made my way to a corner bar, ordered the cheapest thing they served and proceeded to write Samanatha a letter.

I was in that bar for hours, the first couple pages went smoothly but by the time I was on page 4 or 5 I knew I was out of control – I remember seeing myself scribbling injustices to this girl that I barely knew and realized I had crossed a line. Whatever inhibitors that should have fired in my brain telling me to stop where asleep or deeply zoned out because I wrote Samantha a 16-page letter basically telling her how awful she was – like I said up front I was powerless to stop myself.

I stormed out of the corner bar and put my manifesto under her windshield wiper of her car and headed home.

She called me after work the next day to tell me that I was insane and that she never wanted to see or hear from me again, and I said something clever like, “yeah, well tell your new landlord to rip up my application – I already stopped payment on the check I gave you, bitch.”

And that my friends is how I almost lived Ocean Beach.

NOT the same place
NOT the same place

 

The Lost Years, Part VI

Here we are at the end of my apartment tales, by far this place one was my favorite although all of them had their own charm and challenges…

UNIVERSITY AVE

Since updates with metal railings
Since updated with metal railings

Around the time I was passively aggressively ending a three-year relationship I was also, once again apartment hunting. I managed to find a fabulously affordable one bedroom on a busy street right outside of San Diego proper. Sure none of my neighbors spoke English, but my apartment faced a different direction than theirs and truth be told I hardly ever saw them.

Ruka and I moved into our new Bachelorette pad which was a good size one bedroom. I managed to furnish it with the help of my new coworkers and some well times garage sales.

I was sad to leave my 2-minute commute but this new place was no more than three miles from the office, once I got a bike (also thanks to my new awesome coworkers) I even started biking to work – so you know, it couldn’t have been that far.

There was an initial period of exhilaration when I realized I didn’t need to compromise on style or decor and I did go a little nuts with stencils and tapestries, I went to Tijuana (the only place I could afford to shop) and for a little while my new apartment was a cross between a Mexican brothel and a homeless surfer shack, but soon after the thrill of decorating subsided I was faced with the truth that I was alone. I was alone a lot and although I grew to really love that in the beginning it was hard, on the weekends after leaving work I would spend the next 48 hours sitting in the window of my living room waiting for someone to walk by, however being California no one ever walked by. Twice in four years someone came to my door who wasn’t delivering food or previously invited, once was my boss out walking her dog (clearly an excuse to check up on me, I was WAY out of her ‘walk zone’) and once was a girl that was being followed by a sinister looking stranger – I let her in to use the phone and she left although I invited her to stay – probably a little too aggressively, I think she was more scared when she was leaving than when she got there.

For a long period of time I saw a lot of movies, I felt better being among people even if I wasn’t with them and I also found myself driving to the beach many nights after work to watch the sun set on a long day rather than face the prospect of an empty apartment. Sometimes I would walk to 7-11 (2 blocks away) just to interact with the store clerk (and buy cheap Paul Mason wine).

But at one point and I can’t say exactly when it happened I started preferring to be alone – I would rush home from work, dead bolt myself inside and finally be able to take a deep breath as I stripped down to my underwear and flopped on the couch, I even started making excuses for why I couldn’t go out or meet people. Because it was Southern CA the most convincing lie I could tell people was that I was at the gym, “Met you for brunch? oh no, I can’t I’m going to the gym.” “What did I do all weekend? – I was at the gym” people would nod knowingly having themselves ACTUALLY spent entire weekends at the gym.

Once I even broke down and got a gym membership – but I was poor and I was only allowed into the gym something ridiculous like Tuesday and Thursday from 2:00 – 4:30, but it didn’t matter I could flash that gym card or accidently (on purpose) let it slip out of my wallet while on a date in preparation of future excuses. In San Diego, the gym membership is akin to a toddler with a fever, they can get you out of just about anything.

Living alone made me a slob – not that I wasn’t already… untidy. When I lived with  Shane and Malcolm I felt that I need to try and set a better example – raise the bar if you will, being alone all bets were off. Five seconds after coming home there would be a trail of bags, pants, shoes leading from the front door to the sofa and because I had to do my laundry at the laundromat I would wait until every single piece of clothing I owned was dirty before lugging it in there and filling 5 washing machines full of everything I had. I remember one mid-week night when I finally bit the bullet, and loaded the back of my car with all the clothes I owned  (including the one pair of sheets I had for my bed) and set off to do laundry – I got them in the dryer and then left in order to avoid sitting in those uncomfortable plastic chairs. I returned 20 minutes before closing time to pick everything up only to face a locked door and a dark interior. I guess they thought it was cool to close up early since I wasn’t there to supervise my clothes – this resulted in some rather unpleasant phone calls from the pay phone out front. Needless to say I never left my clothes unattended after that. Laundry became a giant time suck I would avoid at all costs.

I started house sitting to a.) make a little extra money and b.) be able to do my laundry while watching something other than mexican soap operas, sometimes I even got to go swimming which was an added bonus.

It wasn’t all sunshine and rainbows living by myself though, there were a few downsides, bugs for example. San Diego is home to the giant flying palmetto bug and once I came home to find one so big at first I thought it was a mouse – I abruptly turned around and left the apartment, I didn’t go home for two days. Sometimes Ruka would bring me half dead animals – once a lizard nearly as long as she was, once a mole and twice mice that were more alive than dead, this is when a roommate would have really come in handy.

Also, there was that time that I nearly burned the place down because I decided to try my hand at bar-b-quing. I bought a little portable grill, placed it on my porch and set it afire with A LOT of lighter fluid, the flames were so high and hot that it set my railing on fire (my porch was old wood, OLD dry wood), fortunately I kept my head and poured an entire bag of kitty litter on top of it to smother it before the entire building became a late night news article. I have not touched a grill since that day.

I lived on University Avenue for four years and the good definitely outweighed the bad, the day I left to head back east was terribly bittersweet and I still long sometimes for the solitude and the freedom of that apartment gave me. I love my family and the life that I have created for myself but if ever I could time travel the first place I would go would be back to San Diego circa 1997.

The Lost Years, Part V

And… we’re back. It’s 1997 I’m about to (kinda, almost) start getting my shit together.

CHOCKTAW DRIVE

Ours was the last apartment all the way back, on the bottom floor.
Lizard capital of the world.

In order to leave Adelaide and still be able to afford a decent place we needed a roommate and a after much disagreement discussion Shane and I moved back in with Malcolm into a really sweet 1920’s apartment located at the back of a quiet, sleepy complex just barely off El Cajon Blvd. The place was great, with beautiful hard woods, built-ins everywhere, a vintage stove you could fuel with firewood (if you wanted), it was small but adorable. I knew moving back in with the two of them was a bad idea but at the time I had no job, no money and few other options.

Shane and Malcolm spent most of their time playing video games and hypodermically injecting watermelons with hard alcohol to serve at parties we would throw every few weeks when a new ‘punch’ concoction was ready.  Malcolm had also started a very sucsessful hydroponics “garden” in his closet. Because the apartment was small I spent my time watching them play video games or wondering how long it would be before SDG&E starting questioning why a 700 Sq foot apartment was running a $300 monthly electric bill. In order to get away from my living situation and the ever pervasive smell of Hindu kush I started frequenting  the pub at the corner – Kelly’s. Kelly’s was my first regular hang out bar, it was a quiet Irish Pub that only served beer, just beer. I didn’t particularly like beer then but I enjoyed the dim, smokey air conditioned atmosphere of the pub (a love that has withstood the test of time).

Very shortly after moving I interviewed for a job in the office building that separated my apartment from the Boulevard, it was a job less than a 2-minute walk from my front door, and I got it. It was my first real 40 hour, 9:00-5:00 job that didn’t involve a cash register or require me to wear a name tag. Ironically this job that was in sneezing distance to my back door did required me to have a car, so I did what anyone desperate for a job would do – I lied and said mine was currently in the ‘shop’.

I lied, but I scraped, and borrowed and cajoled some money together. I paid my friend Heather $200 of the $500 she was asking for her 1988 Pontiac Grand Am and then promptly never spoke to her again. Sure, I felt bad that I had ripped her off but in my defense the car was a piece of shit and really not worth $500. It was white with a red junk yard hood, it had front end damage from hitting a deer full speed on the freeway. It came to me with outdated Michigan registration, it would never pass California Emissions tests and therefore never be legal in the state. I decided to forgo insurance as an unnecessary expense and this began years of owning crappy, illegal, uninsured cars (that’s probably another six-part blog series “Shitty cars I bought off lien sale volumes 1 through 14”). I drove with one eye on the road and one on the lookout for the CA highway patrol – I only ever got caught once but it was Christmas night and I managed to embarrassingly half  cry/flirt my way out of it.

I started working and everyday got to drive loads of mail to the back entrance of the post office where I would wait to be let in while looking at my old townhouse on Seminole Dr. It was like I had come full circle – sort of.

The apartment on Chocktaw Dr. was surrounded by thousands of little lizards, Ruka took it upon herself to terrorize them –  everyday I would come home to anywhere between 10 to 20 tails on the doorstep, she’d bite the tails off them, present them to me as trophies and the lizards would scurry home to grow another one.

Also around this time Ruka stopped eating dinner, I was worried about her for several weeks before I discovered that one of my neighbors, a blind older woman was using her Social Security checks to buy my little cat fresh chicken livers and feed them to her while I was at work. This was fine until we moved again and Ruka became indignant at the idea of canned cat food.

So, I was working full time and taking evening courses at school, Shane was still, well, Shane. Feeling empowered by my new job and awesome coworkers I decided it was time to stop thinking that I could change people and start thinking about my own future with out him. I put on my big girl pants and broke up with him – in a letter – that I left for him when knew I wouldn’t be around.

to be continued…

The Lost Years, Part IV

Welcome to part 4 – its still 1996. I’m 21 and I keep losing my licence…

ADELAIDE AVE

20160424_124720
We lived in #17, bi polar neighbor was upstairs, just the right of us.

We stayed in the townhouse six months, long enough to run out our lease. By this time I had become very close with a coworker of mine (Kim) she and I had bonded over our mutual hatred of our shared boss and we decided to get a place together, I was done living with boys and I was looking forward to only supporting myself. Of course, 5 days before we were set to move I changed my mind and asked Shane to come with me – how could I possibly live without him? (Can you say codependent much?).

The three of us found another inexpensive apartment but this one had just been completely rehabbed – we even got the first choice of units, we left the dark dirty townhouse and moved in to a spacious two bedroom with brand new carpet, new paint  – a huge livingroom and a pool – A POOL!

Ironically right after moving in both Kim and I quit our jobs, we turned our boss in to the California Labor Bureau and they got him to pay us back wages that we were owed (I bet he knows my name now!).

So once again I was living with my unemployed boyfriend, making excellent life decisions. The one saving grace about the apartment on Adelaide is that it was walking distance (still carless!*) to a very inexpensive Mexican market where we could get 3 artichokes for a dollar and a 5 pound bag of potatos for the same – they also sold fresh homemade salsa for pennies. For the next several months I lived on a consistent diet of steamed artichokes and baked potatoes stuffed with salsa.

For the first few weeks it was ideal, we had a great place, plenty of time to sit by the pool while we dreamed up new ways to cook potatoes, but all the serenity ended abruptly when our new neighbor moved in – a bi polar alcoholic with anger management issues – she took an instant disliking to us and suddenly our sunny little courtyard became a war zone. She yelled obscenities at us at all times of the day, threatened our lives and sometimes laid in wait for us to come through the front gate to throw trash at us. We could still retreat to the pool though, she never bothered us there and that became our sanctuary until the school year started and kids from the elementary school would wait for us, pounding on the chain link fence demanding to be let in and allowed to swim. We never let them in, but they managed to get revenge by one day climbing over the fence and throwing the glass patio table in to the deep end – thus ruining pool time for everyone.

So, we retreated back inside our apartment where we put up with the verbal threats from our neighbor mostly because her son also lived with her, her son was nice and reasonable and just trying to get through college, every day he would beg us not to call the cops on his Mom. I think we only ever had the cops there 1 or 2 times, which is a testament to how much we liked this kid, his Mom was a real bitch.

I spent my days taking long walks, sometimes to the El Pollo Loco for a $.99 BRC (bean, rice and cheese burritos) which were a total splurge and telling Shane that I would get a job when he got a job… the entire time we lived there we were unemployed.

Eventually though, Kim got a new job an hour up the coast, our lease came up for renewal and we had used up all of our patience dealing with our neighbor we decided to bid adieu to Adelaide street. Also – I had finally been accepted into college and I needed to find employment and transportation so that I could actually attend school.

*Sidenote: I just want to explain to you how very very hard it is to be carless in the San Diego. San Diego is a commuter’s city – it is HUGE and no one walks. No one. Ever. I used to joke after I got a car that even when I was going the same places with my friends we would all take our own cars, no one would carpool – no one wanted to be without the ability to get somewhere (see no one walked – ever). It’s probably a little easier now that they have an established trolley system, but when I was there, there was virtually no ‘mass transit’ just a collection of old city buses that mostly went from the boarder to different point around town, to try and navigate from say the college area to downtown San Diego was almost impossible and would take you anywhere from 2 – 5 hours of traveling time (A journey that could be done in 20 minutes in a car). One of the reasons I didn’t look very hard for work because I couldn’t justify the return on investment in so much travel for whatever minimum wage job that I was then qualified for.

to be continued…

The Lost Years – Part III

If you don’t know what’s going on by now… pay attention! I’m about to turn 21 and making excellent decisions. Read here & here.

SEMINOLE DRIVE

20160424_130332-2
I was literally standing at the back door of the post office while I took this picture

I thought I was being really grown up when I decided to move in with my boyfriend and his best friend, whom for the purpose of this narrative I will refer to as Shane and Malcolm. I thought having my own kitchen and leaving the “real world” culture of Alice street was the mature thing to do… hindsight, my friends, hindsight…

Shane didn’t have a job or any tangible means of supporting himself and Malcolm worked part time at the college arcade and part time selling dime bags to the college kids that hung out at the arcade, because I was just scraping by selling dusty souvenirs to lost tourists the only place we could get was a dark roach infested townhouse that was mostly inhabited by section 8 families, living on subsidies and spending their days shouting to each other through the thin walls of the complex.

This was also the first time I lived with boys in close proximity and it was a real eye opener, one time I remember Shane got so drunk that I woke up to find him peeing on my computer (a classic Apple2 E circa 1986)… We had a powder room with a stackable washer/dryer  next to the front door and it was so full of dirty clothes ALL.THE.TIME. that no one ever used it as a bathroom.

But above and beyond the grooming habits of 21-year-old boys the most annoying thing about the townhouse was that it was located directly behind the post office. I could literally long jump to the back door and I don’t jump very far. But despite this I never got my mail correctly – I got a lot of other people’s mail but hardly anything of mine, this was super inconvenient because it was about this time that I decided I needed to go back to college and I was applying to school – through the mail because it was 1996 and that’s what you did.

Not all was bad though – it was in this filthy townhouse that Ruka entered my life, walking in through our back patio and staying with me for the next 19 years. By the way the back patio sounds nice but I could never go out there because my roommates had filled it with furniture they found on the side of the road or fished out of dumpsters – furniture like old lazy-boys that were never meant to be outside – it was like a bulky waste dump that was home to a number of wild animals.

While living there I finally left the crappy gift store at the mall and got a job at a hair salon that I could walk to – this not only gave me slightly more money but also eliminated an hour long bus ride everyday (still carless!) I could be at the salon in 5 minutes – on foot. Of course the salon would eventually go down in history as the worst job I ever had because I worked for a misogynist a-hole who never learned my name and only referred to me as “girl”, but at the time I was thrilled to get out of the mall and help pay my boyfriends bills. Like I said… hindsight.

to be continued…

The Lost Years, Part II

If yo are just joining us – the year is 1995, the place in San Diego CA and you should probably read this first.

ALICE STREET

this is a Alice street circa 1995 - I took this picture with a disposable Kodak camera.
this is a Alice street circa 1995 – I took this picture with a disposable Kodak camera. The picture I took in April shows the ensuing years have not been kind.

I left the valley and moved up the hill to the College area, what I really wanted was less of a ‘roommate’ situation while still reaping the benefit of cheap shared housing, what I found was a big old Spanish house with 5 extra-large bedrooms rented separately – the price was right and I practically skipped out of Christina’s two bedroom while she pretended to wait for her nonexistent brother to arrive. The house itself was cool with large terracotta tiles on the floor and a fireplace in the living room was big enough to walk into, not that anyone ever hung out in the living room. Our rooms were our sanctuary where we all lived as though they were small studio apartments (exiting only to forage in the kitchen). I started on Alice street with one of the ‘smaller’ bedrooms (still bigger than any master I’ve ever had) but eventually upgraded to the actual master-master which was triangular in shape and sported two huge walk in closet and its own bathroom with original art deco tile. As luck would have it very shortly after moving there an old friend of mine from high school reentered my life and by the time I had upgraded to the master she moved in with me full time – the room was big enough for my king size bed, her double bed and all the various crap that two 20 year old girl have (mostly sandals, sundresses and taco wrappers).

One of the great things about this house was its proximity to a coffee shop called the Livingroom. The Livingroom was awesome and completely changed my world. Up until that point, I had drank coffee but mostly for medicinal purposes – to get through an exam or wake up after a cheap red eye flight, the Livingroom taught me that there was coffee and there was good coffee and good coffee was great. They served GOOD coffee in giant mugs the size of my head. The Livingroom became like an extension of my own living room. I went there every day despite the fact that I had to sell souvenirs for an hour to afford one cup of their milky way latté. I budgeted the shit out of every penny I earned.

Residents of the house came and went but for one perfect bubble in time there were seven of us there that all got along and generally liked each other, it was a comradery not often found in nature. We set up Wednesday night ‘family night’ where we all took turns making dinner for everyone and staying up late waxing poetic about… everything. We began leaving the sanctuary of our own rooms and actually socializing with each other. It was a perfect situation like the ‘real world’ but without all the cameras and social commentary – but as these things do our group eventually fell apart. Aaron the cute blond engineering student moved out and Kenny the Japanese exchange student moved in – Kenny didn’t speak any English but he played the electric guitar and he played it LOUD at all times of the day and night. Several times we had to call the cops to come inside our own home to get him to be quiet enough that we could sleep.

Kenny pretty much ruined our mojo and right around that time I started seriously dating someone. I started thinking in might be time to leave – in addition to Kenny and his guitar there were some major drawbacks to the big house, food in the kitchen often went missing even when obviously labeled, no one ever remembered to lock the front door and sometimes I would come down in the morning to find it ajar and stray animals nesting in our papasan chair.  Also there was our landlord, Alex who came and went as if he owned the place (see what I did there?), he would walk in unannounced and trying to keep up the pretense that my high school friend was really my lesbian girlfriend and not actually living there was getting harder and harder as our boyfriends started hanging around more and more.

to be continued…

The Lost Years – in six parts

Last spring when I was out of work and sponging off my husband I managed to talk him into green lighting a trip back west, to the city of my misspent youth.  San Diego shaped me in many ways, in the 1990‘s it was a great place to start adulating, there was no internet, no feeling of constant social injustice – just a free spiritedness that bordered on hippy but was years away from its counterpart in San Francisco. At the time it was a sleepy seaside town not yet the sought after destination that has raised housing prices astronomically and clogged up the freeways – my first apartment cost me $200 a month in rent.

I thank my shitty teenage work ethic and bad follow-through that allowed me to walk away from a somewhat promising college education and throw caution to the wind –  to sink the last of my pizza slinging money into a carton of Marlboro reds and board a slow train to the west coast.

While I was out there this spring reconnecting with some amazing friends and swigging back cocktails like I was 20 years younger I did manage to stay sober long enough to go on a mini tour of all of my various residences I inhabited in America’s finest city. Here for your enjoyment is a rundown of 7 years’ worth of late rent checks and unpaid security deposits.

 

A little background:

In 1994 I started my second year at West Chester University – this should have made me a sophomore but since I only passed three classes my freshman year (thanks beer!) I was really a third semester freshman – a title that did not sit well with me.  Also, my second freshman year I got a new roommate – gone was my first year roomie who had taught me the wonders of rap music, how to chug colt 45 like a pro and how to feel comfortable in situations I was until then unaccustomed to. My first year roommate was awesome and even though we may have been each other’s mutual downfalls, we had great fun doing it.

My second year at school I was paired with Chrissy – Chrissy was great, she came from an unbroken family that got together every Friday night to hang out with each other, she had a long standing boyfriend who her Mother loved and a younger brother who was captain of his football team. Chrissy was WHOLESOME. I wasn’t really sure what to do with Chrissy, she was… off-putting. That’s not to say that we didn’t get along, we did, we just never clicked and it was really nice that she was gone every weekend.

The day I decided that I wanted to drop out of school and move to Southern California, Chrissy, instead of trying to talk me out of it immediately offered to drive me to the train station! Either she was trying to be really supportive or just really excited to get rid of me (probably the later).  She helped me pack and even stood in line with me at the registrar’s office while I dropped all of my classes and walked away without hearing the part that I had missed the add/drop period by 2 days (several years later while trying to get back in to college I would realize my mistake and be presented with a large bill from a collection agency who had been trying to track me down for a long time). At the time though – who cared!

I had $227 to my name – I bought a one-way ticket on Amtrack’s Sunset Limited line, a carton of cigarettes and a 12 pack of Mountain Dew, I had $6 leftover when all was said and done. Most people would have been worried that $6 wouldn’t feed them for 4 days on the train, but if I’m being honest the thought never even once crossed my mind – I was 19 and my head was already on the beaches of San Diego.

The ride out there was truly an adventure – and yes for most of it I was starving but I was also delirious from a lack of sleep and the chain smoking helped.  At one point I had become close with a group of 20 something’s that were on their way to work on fishing boats in Alaska – they were transferring trains in Los Angeles and heading North to make their fortunes, they offered to bring me with them and I have to tell you I seriously considered it. Up until we actually arrived in LA a large part of me was saying “come on, you’ve come this far – how amazing would Alaska be?” Sometimes I still wonder what would have happened if I had decided to take them up on their offer. But alas I did not; I was 19 and sure that many other wild opportunities would make their way to me. I took that train two more times across country in the ensuing years and never again was offered such an opportunity.

My first six months in San Diego was something of a mixed bag, I fell in love instantly with the wide palm-tree-lined streets and the cheap taquerias on every corner, I got a job selling $600 Mont Blanc pens to people that would one-day star on the real housewives of San Diego (is that a show? I have no idea…) I lived for a while above my half-brother’s garage, a situation that did not end well and doesn’t bear retelling.

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When I lived here the entire building was covered in old, molsy cedar shingles  that gave it a much more run down, crack house look
When I lived here the entire building was covered in old, moldy cedar shingles that gave it a much more run down, crack house look

My first actual apartment was a small two bedroom in Mission Valley that I found by responding to an ad in the paper (yes, the paper – this was long before Apartments.com was invented). I had seen a bunch of places at that point and even with my super low requirements (had to be by a bus line, had to have laundry) the list of options in my price range (dirt cheap) were mostly unacceptable. The last place I visited was a lovely Spanish style two bedroom rented by a man named Craig, Craig was creepy in a maybe-he’s-a-child-molester sotra way and clearly stoned out of his mind when I got there, but after touring the place I realized that even living with creepy stoner Craig would be infinitely better than any of the other places I had seen. I think, however, that Craig felt my hesitation and mentioned at the end of our meeting that his ex-girlfriend Christina was also looking for a roommate, I didn’t stop to think what kind of girl would date a man like Craig, but she was female and lived in the same neighborhood as the mall I was working in – I agreed to live with her sight unseen.

Christina was horrible, in a way that privileged young Californian’s who have no depth or worldly experience can be – she worked at a tanning salon and spent all of her money on expensive skin creams. Her best friend’s name was Pilar, Pilar carried her dog around her in purse and was an au pair to a family in La Jolla – this was back before au pairs where a thing, she learned that was what she was because this family took her to Paris and because she had been to Paris, she knew everything, Seriously, PILAR KNEW EVERYTHING, she was insufferable, also she was over a lot. It became clear right away that Christine and I could only get along if we were under the influence of well… anything.  I wasn’t a big drinker back then but– hell I would have huffed paint if it meant that we could just have a pleasant evening together.

Because at the time I was making $6.50 an hour working at a defunct gift store at the mall, didn’t have a car and was dating a guy whom I was pretty sure was dating a host of other people I was home a lot. The situation went from bad to very bad to intolerable and the day that I came home and found a note that read “I have news, good for me bad for you – my brother’s coming to live with me”* (did I mention Christina was a real asshole?) I nearly shouted for joy.

to be continued…

*Christina didn’t have a brother.

Another yearly renewal and Lucy’s firm grasp on female anatomy

Hello and welcome to autumn – today I paid for another year of Sticky Jam Hands to exist so I’m here to write my annual ‘I don’t really have anything to say but I need to get my money’s worth’ post.

Lucy started gymnastics class on Tuesday and she really liked it – in fact she loved it (she corrected me emphatically on that point). Being a new gym Mom I did a couple things wrong, like I didn’t pull her hair back tight enough and by the end of class it was all in her face. Also I told her she needed to wear underwear under her leotard. You are not supposed to wear underwear under your leotard – apparently. But at one point during class her friend Emily (who is in the know and going commando) asked Lucy why she had on underwear to which Lucy replied” You HAVE to wear underwear Emily, otherwise everyone can see your VAGINA!”

This last weekend we had our monthly craft night – it was the only craft night I’ve been to in four months because apparently I go away every third weekend of the month. We made pickles and you can read about it here: https://artistryinalcohol.wordpress.com (a girl can’t have too many blogs, you know).

I was recently given a column to write in my company’s weekly newsletter and I was really excited about it until I submitted my first article to my boss and she sent it back with 90% of the funny red lined out and the comment, “do you think we have a sense of humor? Cause we don’t” and I wanted to write back to her and say “but we should! That’s why I’m here!” but instead I made the edits she suggested and a small part of me died inside. I’m a little less excited about this now.

 

A List of my Latest Failures

This list is not by all means all inclusive – who has time to list ALL of my failures, even the most recent ones? No, this list is for the twelve of you – my loyal readers who think that I am just sitting back somewhere drinking Mai Tais and ignoring Sticky Jam Hands completely. This is not true – I think about it ALL the time it’s like the 2nd child that I’ll never have, I want to nurture it and fill it with only the best quality stuff, I don’t want it to get all fat and bloated with shitty writing that springs forward from me even when I try to squash it.

The list below encompasses all of the entries that I have started and wisely deleted before anyone else except Pinky could see them (Pinky is the name of my laptop – she is pink – I am very clever):

  1. “If I Were in Charge” This was a post based on what would happen if all of your dream came true and I was suddenly in charge and could makeup all of the rules. I thought it would be funny – certainly the first paragraph was really good but then the entire thing devolved into ways that we need to help the environment. I mean I know I have some strong feelings on the way we misspend our resources but come on – get off your soap box you know? I eventually deleted this post and saved some of the good parts in a word document – I feel like its material I can use if I ever go back to undergraduate school and I need to stay up late lecturing my fellow co-eds on how we can save the world.
  2.  “With no Benefit” this was a post I wrote in my head on Sunday night as I was throwing up over the side of my bed thanks to a stomach bug that Lucy picked up somewhere and selflessly shared with me – the entire thing was about how vomiting was completely unfair if not preceded with a night of black out drunk drinking – it was also a reflection of the strength of willpower that people must have to be bulimic*. Anyway – this entire thing was pretty funny but was not set down in paper so when I finally did manage to stop dry heaving and pass out the entire thing was deleted from my mental cashe file. This sadly, is what happens to a lot of my writing – it’s not really written anywhere and thus can be lost as soon as something shiny enters my field of vision.
  3.  “Dear David” This was an open letter to David Sedaris after I read his book Let’s Explore Diabetes With Owls – this book was fucking funny as was my letter to him telling him so – but then I thought ‘I don’t really wasn’t to pigeon hole myself here’ – next thing you know Sticky Jam Hands just becomes an entire website devoted to letters to Authors that never read them – maybe I’ll still finish this but wait 3 or 4 months to post it – maybe I’ll completely forget and move on, Maybe I’ll decide to write to Laurie Notaro because I just finished her latest book – it’s a nail biter my friends, stay tuned!
  4.  “Down With Facebook” – I’ve been working on this post for like 2 months now ever since I decided to delete the app from my phone – it’s kinds like a follow up to Facebook is An Asshole and in it I ranted on and on about inappropriate postings (starving dogs and children that die in frighteningly bizarre and terrible ways) there are things in this world I would rather just not be aware of – you know? This post went on and on and for the majority of the time I was writing it I was only occasionally going in to Facebook on the sly – you know to see what my memories for the day are – but then a friend of mine from High School was about to have a baby – a good friend who is my age and whom I’m terribly jealous of and I started checking first thing every morning to see if he was born yet (he was born yesterday) and now I feel like I have no choice but to reinstall the app so that I can keep up with baby pictures – oh and also all of the obligatory ‘back to school photos’ oh and so I can post about how yesterday on the train I sat next to a girl dressed in leggings, a long sleeve flannel shirt and over the knee boots – I so wanted to take a picture of her with the caption “Too Soon!” and post that shit – I mean come on it was 86 degrees outside!

So there is it – at least four unpostable entries that I won’t subject you to. Please feel free to send me subject topics that you would like me to go on and on about!

*I’m in no way condoning eating disorders – I am sure they are really really bad – I’m just saying that I have always admired people’s willpower to stick with something that makes you feel so terrible.

An Open Letter to Mindy Kaling

Dear Mindy,

I just finished your second book Why Not Me and I wanted to write and tell you how much I admire you as a creative person. Since I’m not really sure how to send “fan mail” to anyone anymore (the last time I wrote to someone famous it was to Kirk Cameron when he was on Growing Pains and I wanted him to know how much I loved him – but not in a stalker way, in a very serious way wherein I was sure we had a bright future together). Anyway, I digress.  And since I wasn’t sure where to send it I thought I would just post it here and tweet about it until you were bored enough to click on my link.

To be honest, I haven’t watched the Mindy Project since you left Fox – not that I didn’t love your show and would totally still watch it except that I’m not entirely sure what Hulu is or how to access it – I know that makes me sound old and lame and maybe I am – but I’m young enough to be PRE-pre-menopausal and I do know how to use the Twitter! Anyway, I thought you were great both on and off the office, in the Mindy project and I even saw that episode that you did of Yo Gabba Gabba (Yo Gabba Gabba is cutting edge – yo).

I read your first book which saved me once on a red eye flight across the country – I somehow found myself going through security at the Philadelphia Airport without a book in my possession (if you knew me you’d know this was unheard of) I quickly raced to Hudson News and there you were front and center a huge stack of your books sitting in a kiosk out in the hallway – I grabbed one and ran (just kidding, I totally paid for it first). I had it read before we touched down in San Diego, so thanks for that.

I’m so glad that I’m writing to you (this is where I get all self-congratulatory for a minute) I always think about doing these things but I don’t. For instance before I read your book I finished Barbara Kingsolver’s latest book – man she can write and I thought about telling her that and then I thought ‘meh, she probably already knows she’s great. She’s probably having tea right now with Margaret Atwood and they are complaining about dusting all of their writing awards…’ I don’t know, somehow I don’t feel old enough to write to Barbara Kingsolver – also I’m pretty sure she isn’t on Twitter and I know for a fact that you are – cause you said so – in your book – like at least eight times.

Anywho, I just wanted to say kudos to you and the work that you are doing – keep it up. And thanks for the tip about never being photographed with my arms down – I hate my arms and they look a lot less fat when I have my hand on my hip – I don’t care if you learned that from Kim Kardashian (I only have a vague sense of who she is) I credit it to you.

Thanks again for the book – have a great day!

Becca

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Newsletter: Year 6

Today Lucy turned 6.I am so proud of what an amazing little girl she is and what an amazing job I’ve done raising her so far. Right now she loves swimming swimming swimming which should seem pretty clear from the video below:

Happy Birthday to my favorite sassy little munchkin:

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The other 2/3rds

I feel like I live somewhere in the middle of our socio economical society, in that sweet spot where we can afford to take a family vacations but still only buy shoes if they are on sale. Rarely do I feel either extreme end of the spectrum – completely entitled or abjectly downtrodden. I feel lucky this way, I really do and this last week I got to experience both sides in a most unexpected way:

I am a firm believer that going to the doctors is a anxiety filled, administrative heavy task that should only be undertaken if a bone is protruding or you can’t alone stop your rapid blood loss. Because of this it’s been over 3 years since my last physical and more years than that since any kind of specialist check up. But because I notice that there are parts of my body that are starting to show signs of wear and tear and because my ultimate goal is to live forever I recently decided to find a primary care physician and a dermatologist (I will wait while you all gasp in surprise).

So, I did things the 21st century way I found a local family Doctor who took my insurance and I could book on-line (you know without the added hassle of having to actually talk to a fellow human being) as well as a dermatology practice that met the same stringent criteria.

The primary care physical was scheduled for Monday, the doctors name was something Chinese that I had all but forgotten by the time I drove myself (and Lucy) to her office, figuring that since nearly all the doctors anymore where Chinese I’d be in good hands.

I realized my mistake as soon as I got off the elevator and noticed that the only writing on her office suite was in Chinese characters, I walked in and the entire population of the waiting room did a collective double take. Lucy and I were the only westerners in sight, the magazines and newspapers on the coffee table were all Chinese publications. Not only was the receptionist surprised to see me but equally surprised that I had insurance. I wondered briefly if I had just shown up with a live chicken if that would also have gained me admission (the office had that feel like a chicken would totally have worked).

The appointment itself was also somewhat of a disaster, as a patient who only has a tenuous grasp (at most) on details of my pasts medical history I came prepared with copies of old surgical reports and follow up visit summaries, none if which were asked for, Dr. Li really skimmed right over medical history actually excluding it all together as part of my visit. I was handed paperwork to go get a full blood work up after being scolded harshly in very broken English by the nurse for not fasting that morning (if only they would have put that reminder online when I made the appointment!), given some herbal anti-inflammatory cream for my ailing joints and ushered out the door.

On Wednesday after a quick stop at Quest diagnostics while Lucy looked on in horror as they withdrew 6 vials of blood from my arm and then literally yelled at me to “just do it already Mom!” When I had difficulty peeing into the collection cup, we headed to a dermatologist office located smack dab in the middle of the mainline. I knew it was going to be nice when I pulled in to their private parking lot behind their stand alone Art Deco building (no 6th floor suite in a dingy medical complex for these people!)  Lucy and I were offered an array of cool beverages while we perused the posters for cool sculpting treatments and a special they were running on Botox injections. After completing several medical history forms on the office iPad we settled into some very uncomfortable mid century modern chairs and waited.

When my turn finally arrived I was given a very thorough exam, a strict talking to about my sporadic doctors visits I was diagnosed with a rare skin condition, biopsied, bandaged up, photographed and scheduled for a follow up visit while I received a brochure on laser treatments to make me young again.

I was at the dermatologist 10 times longer than the PCP and seriously wondered what I could do to make them my primary care office.

It wasn’t just the free beverages and promise of eternal youth, the mainline office had actual medical equipment and resources visibly lacking in the first office I visited.

I feel like all I can do now is hope that my blood work comes back normal so I can continue to ignore my health once again while I figure out how to bundle these experiences into a real world lesson for Lucy on the unfairness of life in general.

Next stop, teeth cleaning!

A Heartfelt Obituary

Dear Kenmore series 575-0 dishwasher:

You were always my least favorite appliance that came with our current house and that’s really saying something because the electric range is a pain in the ass to clean and the door to the front loading dryer always hits me in the head when I’m using it no matter how many times I try and adjust it’s feet.

You were loud, like LOUD for a dishwasher manufactured in the past ten years and no mater what setting we ran you on you always left the spilled coffee and wine on the inside on the door – how can you run an entire cycle and not get the door wet?

Speaking of the door, it always stuck closed when I wanted it open and wouldn’t close all the way when I didn’t. It’s been a long time coming this death of yours, you had trouble turning on for months now, but I found that if I yelled at you enough and mashed your buttons down hard enough you would eventually respond.

Last night when you died with a full load of really dirty dishes inside you I wasn’t sad but just disappointed in a long line of ways that you have disappointed me for the past three years.

For the record, I am a little sorry for all of the times that Lucy tried to sit on your door while it was open and it probably wasn’t that pleasant all of the times that Marley tried to climb inside you to lick food off the dirty dishes but all in all I would say you were the bigger let-down in this scenario.

Tonight we ordered your replacement a higher-end Bosch that the guys at Sears promised would be better, quieter and more efficient that you.

Rest in piece you old relic

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Macro Vs Micro Parenting

I work with a lot of really smart people, people that seem to know a lot of things about a lot of things, and recently after desperately trying to understand an article I was cataloging I asked one of our economists about it, he looked at me and said “oh, I have no idea, that’s microeconomics and I study macro”.

Huh, isn’t that nice to be able to segregate your focus on one smaller portion of something- kinda like going to the hair dresser and being told, “oh you want bangs, you gotta talk to the front of the head girl – I only handle what’s in the back.”

Anyway, this entire exchange made me start thinking about micro vs macro parenting (go with me on this). I’m constantly struggling between trying to be a good disciplinarian and trying to compensate extra love for the relative cruelty of the world at large.

Micro parenting looks at the day to day – did you eat your vegetables? Did you clean your room? Should you be allowed to go to the pool if you talk back to your mom?

The microparent operates like parents from generations past, no lip, no excuses – direct punishment, direct reward. Do something wrong and there is an equal and opposite reaction.

Macro parenting looks at the bigger picture – how can we forgo an afternoon of fun when terrible things could happen at any moment? Why say no to going to the beach when the climate crises tells us there won’t be a beach there for much longer? Why am I worried about your room being clean when Donald Trump might be our next president!

Macroparents watch a lot of news and can’t help but see the world around them in future terms, they may also read a lot of post apocalyptic literature. Macro parents weigh the severity of their children’s wrongdoing against societies wrongdoings.

Which approach is better, who knows? Can we achieve a balance and not completely screw yo our kids, who knows? What’s the point of this post, who knows? Where do I work – at a shoe store.

End of the School Year Update

Lucy finished kindergarten this week. Right now she is obsessed with Barbies, her favorite game to play with them is ‘wedding’. She has one Ken doll and one wedding dress and she rotates between the Barbie dolls that get to marry him – the rest of them dress up and solemnly attend the ceremony. Her favorite name right now is ‘Emily’ and all of her Barbies are named Emily- as are most of her stuffed animals, it gets really confusing sometimes.

She constantly asks me to tell her all of the stories that I remember from my childhood, we talk about them over and over, she knows them so well that sometimes I ask her to tell me stories from my childhood. When I refuse to keep telling these same tales over and over again she peppers me with details about my wedding.

She is super particular about the clothes that she wears, so much so that we have screaming arguments about it. As I write this she is wearing her dance leotard, just the leotard. She didn’t like dance class but man, she really loves that leotard.

Another one of her favorite games is playing dog – we pretend that she is a little puppy (named Emily – of course) stuck at a pet store run by an evil man and I come along and rescue her, she is too expensive for me to buy so I steal her and take her home with me (to my apartment where I have neither a husband nor any children) and I become her mother and love her endlessly. She can play this game for hours. We usually play it when we are taking a shower together in the evening – I get her to let me wash her hair by telling her that if I get her fur really clean the mean pet store owner won’t recognize her.

Her best school friends this year are Gracie, Milayna & Josie. Her favorite non-school friends are Angelina, Lizzy & Norah. She is in love with babies and dotes over her ‘little cousins’ – Charlie, Nora & Ellie Bea.

Lucy has gotten really good at reading and can read entire books that are first grade level – but she still prefers for me to read to her. At night we are in the middle of a ‘Series of Unfortunate Events’ which she really likes – her other favorite is Beverly Cleary, anything with Ramona in it.

She is a terrible eater and somedays I’m not even sure how she stays alive, breakfast is a constant struggle unless I give her pancakes, but I limit those to 2-3 days a week which means 4-5 days a week I threaten her to choke down one hardboiled egg – on average one bite of food during breakfast takes about 12 minutes. Breakfast can last for a REALLY long time. For lunch her Dad packs her a well-rounded lunch with fresh fruit, a sandwich, cheese, some kind of fun snack (popcorn or pirate booty) and yogurt. She generally come home with 98% of what he’s packed her, sometimes there is a bite taken out of the sandwich – sometimes it doesn’t look like she opened her lunch bag at all. Dinner is pretty much a repeat of breakfast. Both her Dad and I try to be patient but it doesn’t always work – she’s still alive though so sometimes I wonder if we should just stop worrying about it so much, I do make sure she gets a multivitamin every day.

Lucy is in love with Marley and Spalding (most of the time) and they love her too, the second her door opens in the morning both of them (who just seconds before could have been in a deep sleep) will jump up and run upstairs to greet her, she usually rewards them by picking Spalding up by his neck and jumping on to Marley’s back. We have the most patient animals I have ever met.

Lucy also really likes being a good helper and few things make her happier than letting her help me in the kitchen – last week we made two dozen cupcakes for a school party, I let her ice all of them and by the time she was done she had giggled so hard that she had icing all over her face and half way to her elbow, it took an hour to clean up the kitchen after but it was well worth it.

She is very devoted to her stuffed animals, her ‘stuffies’ she cannot go to sleep unless they are all in bed with her – this means that 45 stuffed animals take up about 75% of the full size bed that she has and she curls up around them in the remaining 25%.

Lucy is very sensitive and gets very upset when she gets in trouble, sometimes when she does something wrong, even before I say anything to her she will hang her head and go up to her room to cry, sometimes I have to stop myself from apologizing to her when she breaks a rule.

She has no concept of money and will gladly give it all away if someone asks for it -we haven’t started giving her an allowance but it will be coming shortly and once that starts she will need to start using her own money if she wants something.

She loves riding her bike and wearing red lipstick – when she grows up she wants to be a teacher and play the violin.

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Where Did I Go Wrong?

I love nature and being outside, I grew up largely unsupervised in the safety of a giant backyard – I climbed trees and harvested caterpillars. I never wore shoes and threw temper tantrums if anyone tried to take a brush to my hair.

I think I always assumed this was a kid thing – that all children responded the same way to the freedom of the outdoors, I found out just recently that I was wrong.

A few days ago I decided to take Lucy to a remote arboretum for a lunchtime picnic. I packed a nice spread, a blanket, plenty of lemonade and headed out close to noon. We were the only car in the parking lot and as soon as Lucy realized we were alone she clung to me like the entire place was crawling with hidden serial killers.  I could barely walk with her hanging on to me but I directed her in to the woods and assured her that we were safe and there was no cause for worry. Nothing I could say would relieve her anxiety. We didn’t go far into the woods, when I suggested that we find a nice shady spot to put down our blanket, I got her to sit down…reluctantly.

The space we had chosen was under a maple tree across a ravine from a giant rhododendron. A rhododendron that was home to several birds. Birds that kept making noise. It was 20 minutes of “what was that?!?” “Did you hear that?!?” “Mom! What’s out there!?!” The answer to all of which was, “That was a bird Lucy”. She was clearly not enjoying herself and at one point told me “Nature makes me nervous – I don’t think I’m an outside sort of person Mom” Huh. Okay.

After she was ‘done’ eating she told me she had to use the bathroom and I decided it was time that she learned to squat under a maple tree like God intended – I mean how did she get to be five and never pee outside? I feel like I failed as a parent.

After she successfully relieved herself she was insistent that we get back to ‘civilization’ I offered her a bag of Doritos (Lucy will do anything for Doritos!) to stay a little while longer and explore, but she looked at me with big round teary eyes and said “Please, please Mom I can’t take this anymore.”

I took pity on her and we left, and headed to the mall where according to her she felt the “most safe”.

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