love is blonde

For my 16th birthday, my mom took me to New York City. For a girl who had never been on the other side of the Mississippi River, this was a Big Deal. My little sister came along, and my mom took us to the usual sights — the Met, the Statue of Liberty, the Empire State building, Times Square. She did such a good job of taking us to cool places. I’m pretty spoiled now, too, because I live close enough to NYC that both business and leisure allow for short, frequent trips to the city.

This weekend my mom, sister, and I reunited in NYC together for the first time since I was 16. Each of us had been back, but never all together. It was just what we needed. In no particular order, here are the 10 Best Things from the weekend. (click any photo to biggify)

1. The High Line – a new-ish park build on an old, elevated rail line that runs up along 10th Avenue. It was so super fantastic that we walked half of it one day, and went back and walked the other half the next day. It’s a great way to see the city from a different vantage point, plus it’s interesting to think about urban architecture and do some people watching.

2. Wicked – This has been on my wishlist for years and I finally got to see it on Broadway! (Thanks, Mom!) It was crazy good and I’m in love with Elphaba. I want to buy the soundtrack and play Defying Gravity on repeat.

3. Shopping. My sister bought me a long, pretty gold necklace from Artists & Fleas at Chelsea Market. It was like Etsy-In-Person so I pretty much wanted one of everything. I’ll snap a photo of the necklace as soon as I’m wearing it with a cute outfit.

4. Our little Chelsea apartment, thanks to Airbnb.com. We were perfectly located to be able to walk downtown (on Saturday), uptown (on Sunday), and up 60 stairs (every day — it’s on the 4th floor). We had plenty of room for the three of us, plus a kitchen, internet, TV, etc. I love staying in apartments and living like a local. We walked so much each day that each night we ended up back at the apartment early for a little couch time piled on each other.

5. 9/11 Memorial. Still under construction, but allowing visitors. I’d like to see it again when it’s all finished and the trees are blooming.

6. Catching breakfast with a friend before I boarded my train home on Monday. Every Monday should begin with a cappuccino, a biscuit, and a dear friend, don’t you agree?

7. Speaking of breakfast — real NYC bagels on Sunday morning. I brought some back for my freezer for a weekend treat, too.

8. Banana cake with cream cheese frosting from Billy’s Bakery. The thing that tweets and dreams are made of. We loved the first piece so much we went back for another piece the next night.

9. Shopping, part 2. I walked into DSW wearing old, stinky, ratty shoes that I L-O-V-E, and walked out with a brand new, exact same pair, purchased for 50% off. I slipped on the new pair, tossed the old pair into a trash can on the sidewalk, and walked another few miles.

10. Just hanging with my mom and sister.

I’ve spent the last six months grieving, trying (unsuccessfully) to get pregnant again, and trying to survive each day. Except for one night here and there, I haven’t left town at all. I’ve chained myself to my home, my office, and to the fertility clinic. But if the definition of insanity is trying the same thing over and over and expecting a different result, then I am insane, and I need a break.

So! Adventure awaits us this spring and summer. I’m really excited. (Understatement of the year.)

First up: The Equator (or darn close to it). In April, Andrew and I are headed to off-the-beaten-path Costa Rica for 8 nights of treetop & surfer beach living. We rented a house on VRBO from a woman named Sunshine. I love her already.

Next up: The Arctic Circle (actually, NORTH of it). A dozen family members are headed to rural Norway for beautiful sights and genealogical lessons. On the way home, Andrew and I will stop in Iceland for a couple of days. Just because we can!

Do any of you have trips planned for this spring or summer? I’d love to hear where you’re going. And if you want to spend a week cat sitting vacationing in DC, let me know. We have vacancies!

Just sharing a couple of things I’ve read and loved lately, and maybe, if you’re going through a tough time, they’ll give you a little peace, too…

One of my resolutions for the new year was to live my life and not compare it so much to the lives of others. As I’m sure you can imagine (babies! everywhere!) this is really difficult. But I love this advice from Carolyn Hax:

How do I stop the “Woe is me!” voice in my head? My best friend is expecting, and another good friend engaged. I’m going through a rough divorce and major depression (I’m being treated). Their happy news makes me feel terrible about myself, which also makes me feel terrible. I want to be happy for them. I just don’t know how.

…

Depression puts everything through the “It’s all about me” funnel. Your friends’ happiness underscores your failures; their struggles are one more thing to worry about; your own bad news proves nothing in your life goes right; your good news proves that even good news can’t cheer you up; the bad weather is just the cosmos piling on; the sunshine is the cosmos flipping you the bird, rubbing beauty in your face. It is relentless.

But, more important, it’s not true. It’s a deceptive filter through which you receive (and everyone else with depression receives) the random, unrelated messages of the outside world. When you aren’t depressed, bad things don’t suddenly become good, but you’re able to see them as the isolated incidents they are, as opposed to elements of a vast conspiracy of pain.

Even if you know this — or just take my word for it — that won’t automatically render you able to cheer for your friends, but it’s a start. When you’re forced to process other people’s milestones, keep reminding yourself that neither bad feelings nor good ones are permanent. Celebration is a moment, as is grief. Everyone gets to happy points through miserable points of their own.

If you find that hard to believe, then force yourself to recall the times these friends have leaned on you. “Happily ever after” isn’t something that actually exists; it’s just lazy storytelling.

I suppose it’s theoretically possible for someone to get through life without genuine suffering (and not be a psychopath) — but would you even want to be that person, or be close to that person? Who has never felt emotional pain, who can’t sympathize with it, and who will never really know how good it feels to feel good?

This is not to glorify suffering but instead to celebrate the transience of all emotional states.

Read full reply here.

If step one is realizing that no one is living a fairy tale – even if it seems like they are because of Facebook, then maybe step two is embracing the richness and complexity that comes through grief and loss. From A Blog About Love, I found some quotes on happiness from the woman who developed the stages of grief. Here are a few:

“Learn to get in touch with the silence within yourself and know that everything in this life has a purpose.”

“The most beautiful people we have known are those who have known defeat, known suffering, known struggle, known loss, and have found their way out of the depths. These persons have an appreciation, a sensitivity, and an understanding of life that fills them with compassion, gentleness, and a deep loving concern.  Beautiful people do not just happen.”

The next time someone looks at me funny when I cry in public, I’ll just tell them I’m on a journey to becoming a beautiful person. A beautiful person with mascara running down her face.

{photo credit}

Miller has been gone six months now. Nearly the same amount of time he was here.

I think tonight I’ll light a candle for him and have a quiet evening at home. Maybe I’ll write him a letter in my journal.

I’m not living the life I planned, but I am trying my best to live a full life. I will always love and miss Miller, my first baby and first son.

{photo by flickr user jjpacres}

•••

Spring in War-Time

Now the sprinkled blackthorn snow
Lies along the lovers’ lane
Where last year we used to go -
Where we shall not go again.

In the hedge the buds are new,
By our wood the violets peer -
Just like last year’s violets, too,
But they have no scent this year.

Every bird has heart to sing
Of its nest, warmed by its breast;
We had heart to sing last spring,
But we never built our nest.

Presently red roses blown
Will make all the garden gay . . .
Not yet have the daisies grown
On your clay.

-Edith Nesbit, 1916.

A blog is meant for tooting one’s own horn, right? Because I am here to tell you about the kick-ass surprise party I threw for my husband’s 35th birthday on Saturday night. Although he says he had a hunch I might do something surprise-y for him, I choose to believe he had No Idea Whatsoever (because that’s the truth).

We went out for a nice dinner and then I told him we were going to a concert at the Rock and Roll Hotel, which is not a hotel at all but rather a concert venue and bar. We decided to “grab a drink” upstairs before heading in to see the band, and that’s where Andrew was met with approximately 35 friends and family members all yelling Surprise!

It was amazing to see so many people who love (and love to hate) him all in the same room. It was like a mini version of our wedding when we were overwhelmed with happiness in being in one place with so many people we love all at once.

Because Andrew is a pollster, I had this bright idea of polling his friends and family and presenting the results at the party. Thank goodness for my friends who have expertise in writing polls, designing Power Point slides, working a projector, and making funny jokes. They really helped me pull it together and it was a huge hit.

Here is an example of two of the slides from the survey results.

I added in a few other dorktastic touches, like these custom buttons with “Andrew-isms” on them. They were sort of like a party favor/conversation piece all in one. Etsy seller Sofia from Buttonlandia was fantastic to work with. Aren’t these too cute?

We also had Crunkcakes which are cupcakes made with booze. Oh, yes. Bourbon/bacon/maple, funfetti/marshmallow vodka/Bailey’s buttercream, chocolate/espresso liqueur, and more. Because an open bar was not enough alcohol.

We had our own private area at the bar away from the hoards of 22-year-old drunk booty dancers. We held an old folks dance party instead!

Would you rate those dance skills shown above as Excellent, Good, Bad but not mockworthy, or ‘Get it on a Flip cam and post it on YouTube’ terrible?

Survey results indicate that I will likely not do anything like this again for at least 20 years. But I love him a ton and am glad so many people had the chance to celebrate with us this weekend.