When I Was Ten . . .

. . . I was upside down all the time, too.

Kind of like these girls . . .

I mean, what's the point of being right-side-up?

I never understood that. I preferred the opposite.

The girls were very cute yesterday. . .

. . . and very upside-down . . .

. . . see that birthday girl in corner?

She's six. Six! In a few more years she'll be upside-down at the beach all the time, too.

. . . and so will her little friend . . .

. . . everybody's favorite one-year-old.

In the meantime, Greta-Fest was a love-fest.

Oh, Greta.

Oh, Love-fest.

Oh, Ledgie.

We had a wonderful time.

Aren't we lucky to know these kids?

Here's to a zillion times more.

Here's a really dumb story I've been wanting to tell you

Remember when I told you that I took my girl to LA for a weekend visit with The Famous Colleen? You do?! Me too.

One of the comments - that post had a record breaking FOUR, I'll have you know - read:

Yes, I've been waiting for this one. Thank you! So awesome that Lala girl is still in Lala land, and therefore so close by! We didn't hear about what you got up to in LA after leaving the cousins to themselves though..... ?? xoxo,Beth

Don't you love Beth? You do?! Me too.

Well Beth, I'd like to tell you the really dumb story of what I got up to in LA after leaving the cousins to themselves.

I had hemmed and hawed about stealing away to a hotel after dropping my girl off with C & B, but that proved to be too much trouble and I was wise to soak up the nighttime hours with those fine folks. I didn't want to just drive home, though. It was a fine Saturday and I had nowhere to be, so I thought about what I should do, noting with some regret that I was missing my usual Saturday morning gym session, which is one of my faves. I had my bag so looked up the gym finder to see what was close by, and lo... the very nearest gym offered The Trip.

It's just an IMAX spin class, but I'd heard it was fun and it's not available very many places, so I was psyched to checked it out. I tried and tried and tried to learn if and how and when I could go, but nothing electronic was working and I finally had to resort to calling The Guy. Ugh.

I learned that I had to make an online reservation, and would have to pay a fee to access this particular club since it's above my social status as far as gym memberships are concerned. I figured I'd saved several bucks by not getting hotelly the night before, so I'd suck it up. The Guy had told me that even if the class was full online, there were usually no shows. So when I attempted to sign in that morning and found the class full, I did not fret. I headed over early to make sure I would get a bike, and grabbed my bag to change and found daaaaaamn. I only had shorty shorts, and I didn't have my cycle shoes. I don't know about you, but I am not a fan of skin on saddle action at the gym. And I don't know about you, but spinning in street shoes is for chumps. You know what I did, right?

It was the fates, I tell you. There *was* a bike for me. The last bike. And I took a quick gander to find that there *was* a sports chalet less than a mile away. And I *was* an hour early. And I *am,* after all,  me.

I won't drag you through the slippery slope of my rationalization, suffice it to say that I showed up for class in some very snazzy pants and clipped in to the very snazzy bike in the very snazzy windowless tomb of a room.

So dramatic!

It occured to me at some point that after entering and exiting the club 3 times, no one had asked me to check in or pay the daily upgrade fee. Score! Off I went, onto the trip.

It was really weird

Weirdly awesome-ish

I was chagrined to find it mostly spaceship shit, I thought it would be like a ride through the mountains

mountains! and lava fields. yikes

and outer space

It was fun. If that was my home gym, I'd go all the time because it flew by and I kicked my own ass. I found it claustrophobic, though. I felt like a dork for taking photos but some lady in the middle was also taking pics and her flash kept going off, which was hilarious.

After class I decided to start the southbound drive and take the scenic route, stopping wherever I pleased for lunch and sun and whatnot. I walked my sweaty smelly self out of the dungeon, and smugly remembered that I had my overnight bag and toiletries in the car. As I headed to the door to go get it, I noticed a line of people waiting to be checked in - a shift change had occured and the front desk crew was on point. I thought I shouldn't push my luck, and should quit while I was winning at life. But I was really sweaty and fragrant. So I grabbed a few gym towels and took inventory of my bag, pleased to find those shorty shorts but no clean shirt. I got right into the shower in my quick dry togs, washed my sweaty tank with body soap from the dispenser, then dried it in the bathing suit wringer. I swaggered out of there and waved goodbye.

And that, dear Beth, is what I got up to in LA after leaving the cousins to their devices. Isn't that a dumb story?

Silliness

Did I mention I went to Mexico? It seems a very long time ago now... I still do have photos of the trip though, and still do plan to post them at some point. Although not today.

Today I have the same lame excuse I have seemingly every Wednesday lately. I don't have time! Of course, I have the same time this week as I've had every other week of my life, but it all seems so filled-up and frantic and fast lately. Work, kids, social life; work, kids, social life; work, kids, social life, repeat. Oh, and there's yoga and almost always some yoga training too (started one on Sunday, actually).....Oh, and this week there were lice too. (Not kidding.) That was fun. Sigh.

So, as I checked my phone this morning to see if I had anything at all interesting on there to share, I had to smile at the sheer silliness of the three last photos I found there. I mean, who doesn't like silly?

Starbucks dude misheard me yesterday. I kinda like it.

Safety glasses are cool!! And silly. As is RJ's face in this photo.

My friend came to pick me up one night recently.  What are the odds? (I changed into blue jeans.)

Capture It

Sometimes, when the crescent moon comes out, there is nothing to do but try to capture it.

Capture it for one's very own.

. . . Mistah likes to give me very strict orders about how to stand, and were to hold my glass when I'm trying to capture the moon . . .

. . . but sometimes I get distracted.

And sometimes, I like to try to capture the clouds in a martini glass instead.

You never know what's going to happen in this world of ours . . .

. . . so all we can do is seize the day . . .

. . . Capture It.

flashback friday for NYC

Here's a post I love from the summer of 2011 after a trip to NYC. Big dates like today's throw me into such a time warp. It was just a few years ago, but my kids were wee tiny baby nuggets:

gaping

Our trips back to the East coast are mostly about family, and just being together acting idiotic and eating and  drinking and laughing and laughing and laughing. And singing and swimming and laughing. But mostly drinking.

In this last year, it's been very much about Dad. Aw, dad. But it's also about going home, and revisiting the haunts and adventures of my youth, and sharing those experiences with my kids. One adventure I love to share with my homies is the obligatory sojourn into the city. I mean The City. The one. New York.

Last time I was in town, I was flying solo and had a grown-up type adventure* in the city The City. *if I may be so bold as to suggest that you click on the link, I will. I love that story 

This time, we had a tourist agenda. The kids wanted to go to the top of the Empire State Building, and I wanted to take them on the Circle Line (toot toot).

So, the day after the kids and I got back to Mom's after crashing in New London for a couple of fun nights, we joined forces with Mom and Ann and took ourselves to the train. Without drama.

Why does she look so nervous? She always assumes that I'm doing something scandalous.

We arrived at Grand Central in no time at all, and hopped in a cab for the short ride to Pier 83.

Mom navigated

The cruise was really great, interesting and gorgeous and cool. We passed beneath 19 bridges! The views of Manhattan from every conceivable angle were breathtaking. Still, nearly 10 years later, it's impossible to overlook the giant gaping hole in the skyline.

The kids wanted to talk a lot about September 11, and were full of their usual jarringly frank questions and comments. We all speculated about whether or not the Circle Line was running that day - why wouldn't it have been? And how terrifying it must have been to watch those wretched events unfold from such an unobstructed vantage point. Ugh.

Anyway.

After the boat ride, we walked a bit with Mom and Ann with the intention of hailing a cab for their return to Grand Central. It was a busy summer day though, and cabs were scarce. It wasn't long before we were closer to their destination than our starting point, and they decided to hoof it the rest of the way.

The kids and I had sights yet to be seen, so we parted ways and explored the quintessential freakshow that is Times Square.

By then it was almost time for our lovely Mary Beth to bust out of work, so we started the trek uptown, thinking that we'd hail a cab at our convenience.

I had several opportunities to step out from the curb and show my kids how it was done, this hailing of an NYC taxi. I showed them the casual three finger salute, the enthusiastic wave, the urgent pointing finger, even the  grand jete. And then we finally got a cab when one pulled over to let another guy out.

But no matter! We got there, and after a lovely visit at MB's much-loved homestead, we headed out for a fun and festive meal, highlighted by half price sushi and stupidly cheap margaritas. Those margaritas were so cheap, it made us stupid.

Stupid enough to order about a dozen. But look at that table!

After dinner we did some exploring in MB's magnificent 'hood. We headed to the river and MB took us to the perfect spot for an aftermargarita dinner drink, and dessert for the kids. It was such a high point, visiting and gabbing and soaking up the city. After a while, we skipped home.

yes we did.

And had a fun little ending to the night where I may or may not have hired my kids to babysit themselves while safely ensconced in MB's double bolted apartment in her doorman protected building so that she and I could slip out for just one more.  

The next morning came obnoxiously early, and Mar had to go to work! Poor bastard. I suffered on her sofa bed for a while feeling sorry for her about that, until I remembered that the small people hanging their heads out of the 4th floor window had been promised a trip downtown and then up to the 86th floor. Oy.
 
We got ourselves up and out the door, and grabbed some provisions while I scoured the deep, dark recesses of my addled brain for the helpful information MB had given me the night before about how to reach our destination via subway. She had let us know that it would be tough to get a cab in her neighborhood on a weekday morning. So, I knew which direction we were supposed to walk... but oh God, the thought of going underground made me want to hurl. I took a fleeting, desperate peek over my shoulder with a halfhearted hand raise to see if maybe, just maybe an empty cab might fall down out of the sky. [cue angel choir] One did!

I had the kids tell our driver that we were headed to the Empire State Building. He was a chatty guy, I admitted to the over consumption of margaritas and he told me a few stories of his own. Soon the conversation returned to our destination, and the kids excitedly speculated about how the cab would look from our intended vantage point. After a few minutes of small talk, our driver said: "The last time I was up that high, I was on the 73rd floor of the South Tower." I asked a few tentative questions. He talked a while. We listened. His story was like so many others, so stunningly many others'. But unlike so many of those others, he was around to tell it. He told it right away, almost ten years ago, when the gaping hole was still smoldering and he and his pregnant wife were still reeling. He must still be reeling. Aren't we all?

All of the cabs looked tiny from way up there.

We tried to imagine having to outrun terror from that high up, but it's impossible to put yourself into that place and time.  I was hanging out with my girl on that awful Tuesday morning in 2001, she was 12 weeks old. Now she's ten, and something lovely is being built inside of the gaping hole. 

Jacquie's happy place

I know I mentioned a family trip to Baja, from which I have many, many photos and fond memories, and which I do plan to document here on MY&E, soon. But last night I spent the night at Jacquie's happy place.

And, unsurprisingly, took in a lot of beauty.

First the sky did this:

Then this:

Then, THIS! I mean, can you say glorious!?!

Then it went into pink mode.

  

Sigh, I'm pretty happy there too.

Van Gogh

Sometimes Mistah gets oh-so-bored with standard, representational photography -- you know, when the photo actually reflects what the subject looks like -- so he fiddles with the camera's settings. The results can be quite entertaining.

Remember these, from Scott's wedding?

Pretty cool, right?

As if dancing isn't fun enough . . .

As if the backyard isn't fun enough . . .

. . . it's a lot more fun with a stylized art project in place.

And the Westy? If even possible, she's even more fun now . . .

Sunflower? Fun. I feel like I'm in Arles.

And seriously. Ocean Beach. Look what Mistah does for his art.

We call this one Gam On. For obvious reasons.

And my personal favorite . . .

I am in Arles. Right here on my deck. Enjoying a glass of wine with Van Gogh himself. Nothing, I tell you, is more fun than that.