100!

It doesn't seem possible that we could have been here 100 days. I suppose technically we have only been gone from Chicago for 100 days and here for 97 or something...

We celebrated by going out to Redwood City to this little mexican place with a romantic patio lit by those great patio lights I like so much. We'd been eying it for weeks.

What we didn't do for our 100th day anniversary was go to see Matchbox 20. They were on site at the googleplex today, if you can believe it. And we couldn't go. Why? Because Ross had a damn meeting--what kind of travesty is that? WORK?! Ross had to WORK!?!

100 days and only 2-3 have been rainy. We are settled in and loving the perks of living in the sunshine state: farmer's market, pomegranates, dates, walking to everything, etc. My pink tub has become my beloved tub. And I enjoy the hummingbird who visits outside my office window each morning.

No regrets. (please visit!)

97-99 Bunny Ears

We walk to town a lot for stuff when we can. Yesterday we went in for a craft fair, and today again for the market. And you all know how I just love this whole commuting without the car thing.

But my shoes are always coming untied. And Ross is always making fun of me. He gave me some advice about wrapping something twice and I thought I'd try it, but it didn't really translate to how I tie my shoes.

During our last walk as I tied my shoes for the millionth time, he started to give that same advice again when he stopped mid-sentence to exclaim accusingly, "YOU STILL TIE BUNNY EARS?!?!"

So this is my confession. I tie bunny ears. I had a mom who tied the grown-up way and a dad who tied bunny ears. I tie bunny ears. I never learned the other way. I've tried now that I'm grown up to tie that other way but it always ends up floppy and loose and awkward. I don't think there is anything fundamentally wrong with bunny ears, although it is starting to seem like they just don't work with these particular laces. Since it's been 35 years, I think I'll just get different shoes (maybe some slip-ons?) rather than re-learn. But let's hope my kid gets the grown-up-shoe-tying gene.

93-96 Swamped

What can I say but welcome home? My team has a big part of our project starting on Monday and we're trying to get ready. Life has been sun-almost-up to sundown at the laptop.

But I did go to dinner at a place in Redwood City called Maldoun on Tuesday with an old college friend. We shared a smoked salmon, some beets, and -- the adventurous choice -- sardines. Everything was presented most elegantly. The sardines were...not for me :-)

Other than that it's cheese & peanut butter.

92. Reunited...

For Sunday 14 Oct

...and it feels so...overwhelming!

When I left for vacation I decided to go sans laptop. I felt I needed some time away. I needed some analog interactions with the world. I left for the airport with a book and a journal.

In the first hours, I was veritably anxious. In the security line, though clearly it was EASIER to get on without the unloading of at least one if not two laptops, I just kept feeling I was missing something. I felt uneasy.

In the next phase, on the flight, I was reading and was getting agitated every time a question or reference came up, because I wasn't sure how I'd look up the answer or connect to the details. What was I supposed to do--write it down and remember to look later? in FOUR DAYS!?

That night, I was having phantom pains of my laptop. Could I really sleep without checking email or surfing for the answers to that day's questions?

Day 2 I woke and was busy from the start: breakfast with the ladies and then getting ready for competition. But between heavy foundation and dark eye-shadow there was a break...I couldn't help it: I decided to try the TV Email. Then another rush of folk for the eyeshadow. Then only 15 minutes for email. When I got in, it was $12.99 so I bailed. Restrained. Deep breath and I figured it was for the best.

Day 5 and I'm on the way home. Totally relaxed and doing just fine in analog life. Having a nice conversation with the gentleman on the plane, attending a block party in the neighbourhood, having a nice dinner out with our new neighbour friends Sapna and Pankaj. And then it hits. What is waiting for me in the inbox? What will I have to do? How will I keep up?

And I'm back online.

88-91 Sweet Harmony

For 10-13 October

Dear Friends, one of the reasons I was working so hard pre-10 Oct is so that I could fly on up to Calgary to be with my mom (the one with white hair at left) who was competing in the Sweet Adeline's International competition with her Region 14 champion chorus, Potomac Harmony.

Choruses and quartets competed for the international championship over four solid days of entertaining competition in four-part barbershop harmony. What a blast it was!

Glitter, sequins, heavy theatrical makeup, all-in-one girdle affairs that keep your...affairs...tightly wound under the costume--all trademark Sweet Adeline fare. But the singular most amazing thing about the Sweet Adelines is the Sweet Harmony--not just in their music but in their hearts. These women are sisters in song and will welcome you into their circle in an instant, surrounding you with literal and musical hugs.

The average age of a Sweet Adeline is reputedly about 58, but can I just say I got no sleep? These wild women kept me busy and awake. What a production! What a party! They sang for four days and were fine. I sang for four hours at the back of a karaoke bar and I lost my voice!

Having lost my voice and stayed up all night Friday night, we went to music education class on Saturday morning where one of the best directors gave a really engaging and interactive class, but I couldn't sing--and that made me cry. There is simply nothing like singing along! Later that night after the final dinner, everyone got in a circle and just started singing because...well, that is what you DO if you're a Sweet Adeline! And there I was, once again surrounded by that special sound, chords ringing through my body, music lifting me up.

Congratulations, PHC! You ROCK! Thanks so much for lifting us up!

Join & Make Music! www.sweetadelineintl.org
Check out PHC! www.potomacharmony.orghat a party! They sang for four days and were fine. I sang for four hours at the back of a karaoke bar and I lost my voice!

84-87 Missing

For 6-9 Oct

I don't know, really.
Work was busy.

I chased dates. Yes, the lovely fruit kind. I'm so in love with them, I wanted them so desperately, that we went to two farmer's markets. But the date lady was missing.
And I got one of the best burritos in the area, over in Mountain View in a strange little store; you had to walk through the oddly empty store area to get to the burrito line. It was a wait, but well worth it.

And oh yeah, the Blue Angels. Death-defying show!

83. Into the Wild

While I highly recommend this movie, some things are just sad--sad enough to pull a bubble of grief up from somewhere you thought neatly tucked away. The movie was good on its own, sad on its own. Triumphant too, for the human spirit. It will stay with me a while. I am deeply touched by the story itself, by the story of a man who heals himself through his communion with nature. I know this is a place I go, like my father before me for solace, for inspiration, for the proof we need that faith is not undeserved. The characters he meets on his journey remind me of a million oddballs my father mentioned from New York to Nashville--stories I can't hear again.

In one scene, the soundtrack pulls up Roger Miller's "King of the Road." Like the smell of paste conjures up a kindergarten sweetheart, a song can bring on a tidal wave of another time's magic dust. This song brought a kaleidescope of memories: the million times my dad sang this song in the car or in the workshop--badly out of tune but with incredible enthusiasm. I hadn't realized fond memories might force out a current of tears.

If the movie was about a man who felt he was alone, it's resolution was his recognition that he was loved and that happiness must be shared. Grief is more private, but it is healed through sharing.

There is wilderness. But there is no "alone". This blog's for you, Pop, out there in the Wild.

82. Happy Anniversary

to me...

Four Years have flown by (actual wedding dance photo above). Of course, when I arrived home last night it was past midnight so I beat Ross to the "Happy Anniversary" punch by wishing him well and leaving a card in the bathroom where he'd find it first thing.

This morning when I arose, he made me tea and "egg in a hole" because he always used to do that for me in the early days. AND I got presents. I was wondering what object under 3K he could give that might excite me, but he nailed it. Year 4 is Linen & Silk. He got me a silk throw for the living room. PERFECT and oh-so-thoughtful. The Bamboo PJs were just such too much.

My surprise is yet to come. Theatre tickets to "Triumph of Love" and am hoping to hit a highly rated Ethiopian place beforehand.

Bottom line: No regrets. How could I ever ask for more?

79-81. Smelly

Monday-Wednesday 1-3 October

I love travel. I like to see new (and old) places, connect with people, etc. This week, traveling for business was fairly good. I worked all day on the plane Monday till my battery died, at which point I caught up on some business reading. There was an interesting twist to my business travel this week--Ross went too. Ross's work was recruiting at Duke's Fuqua School of Business and he went to do meetings and an information session. So we stayed together.

And I'm sorry to report I stayed in a place I don't normally stay. And our room smelled like a third-world market--all B.O. It was horrid. Two nights of B.O. What else can I say?

As I found my seat on the 5+hour flight home (all this after a war-room session at work and a flight from RDU to IAD), I found a pocket of some of the most raunchy B.O. ever. In my row. I guess it was the guy next to me. Thankfully there was no one in the middle seat, but I spent a lot of the time trying to be "smooth" while I covered my nose and mouth with my sweater or put my hands to my nose hoping my perfume or hand cream would negate the impact of the intensely smelly smell that was someone's B.O.

The hazards of travel are sometimes hidden. Home is safe.

...or so I thought. Till I entered the front door, where I encountered the pungent fragrance of cat poo. The litter box happens to be in the foyer corner and low and behold, in that one instance it did not serve me one bit.

Entering the kitchen, I STILL smell remnants of fish odour from the ONE NIGHT we cooked fish OUTSIDE last weekend.

Does smell mean something? Because if so, I'm getting strong messages I cannot interpret.