Sunday, April 27, 2008


It’s Sunday morning, today is the Day Of The Portfolio. I just got in to my quiet, empty workplace, make a cup of coffee, made nice piles of all my graduate coursework and drafts, then sat down to blog. Gotta warm up the ol’ writing chops, right? Right.

I’ll just take a moment to tell you about yesterday. It was a typical Saturday morning, I went to the gym early and then did my petco/payless/vons circuit. Beth (the artist formerly known as YOU. enough already) called me at Vons to see what wonderous adventures we could dream up for a perfect afternoon in the predicted heat wave. But alas, I was unavailable.

We had a karate tournament (cue dramatic music).

It’s a long story, but the abbreviated version is that the last time my son participated in a tournament, he was in a group of 8 kids and they awarded 7 trophies. Ouch. He was not keen to return, but a mere two years later, there we were!

It was great. I experienced the typical mom at a sporting event range of emotions:

Wait. Beam. Swell. Burst. Cringe. Adore.

In between, there was lots of “shhhhhhh” and “I said I don’t have any snacks!” and “cheer for your sister/brother, you self-involved little shit!”

just kidding.

Anyway, it was joyous. We had promised the kids a celebratory dinner at what we call Greece - a place with a great story to be written that features a letter, a kitchen tour, and free meat.

But I had had the inspired idea to pack up our beach stuff just in case, and it was so easy to convince them that what we needed after those 3 hours at the dojo was not to sit inside of Greece, but to hit the beach.

Why yes, I do rock.

We had dinner at the usual spot, and scored great parking AND the front row seats overlooking the ocean. I wish I had taken pictures of our ice cold pitcher, fish tacos, prizes from the claw machine, kid/dog love fest. But I left my stuff in the car. In fact, when we ordered the beer, the 14 year old waiter asked for my ID. I told him I had to get it from the car, and he said nevermind.

After dinner we retrieved our beach gear and my camera, and it went a little something like this:

My peeps played frisbee

My girl can’t resist the ocean’s pull. And bathing suits are for chumps.

My next post will be about this guy

This looks like a yoga pose, but turns out what I thought was an orange lifeboat being lowered from the pier is actually the Frisbee leaving his hands! I wish I knew how to put an arrow in there

And the obligatory photo of mom and dad smooching. Which we do pretty much all of the time, not just when one of the kids grabs the camera and demands it.

A perfect evening.

Now let me go write this bad boy, would ya?


ME said...

Oh stop - really! All of you complimentary comments are just embarrassing me! Look how quickly I became an attention whore. I vow to only post on weekdays, when our gigantic audience is avoiding work and therefore reading our blog.

What I really wanted to say is that during that idyllic dinner? A woman told me that my child looked like a young Jodi Foster. I said "Oh yes, isn't she beautiful?" and she gushed some more, then said "The little one is cute too!"


Is he too pretty for long hair?!

(for the record, this is my third fucking attempt to get the mumbo-jumbo "word" correct!)

ME said...

how unfortunate that one cannot edit comments. I loathe and abhor typos.

If this is published, it means that I got the mumbo jumbo right on the first try.

Ellie said...

Yes, you got the mumbo jumbo right. And your post rocks. Sorry for its lack of attention. LOL about your son, Jodi Foster. What the?

The night you refer to in Greece -- with a letter and free meat -- was the very night we got blind drunk and invented this blog.

You said...

Pretty much all of the time....yes, that is exactly how I picture you and your husband....lip to lip. What the?

Regarding Ellie's "What the?" I have to admit that now that I think about it, your son (can I use his real name???) does have a slight resemblance to Jodi Foster.....he looks like a young, male, skate-rat version of Jodi Foster. And I mean this in the BEST possible way. He's adorable, no doubt about it.