Posted on by Wise Sass · 2 Comments

This is the story of a girl

Who cried a river and drowned the whole world

and while she looks so sad in photographs

I absolutely love her

When she smiles

Do you know that song? You know how you can hear just the words “this is a story” and you can immediately connect the lyrics and sing the whole song 500 times in your head (or out loud) after that? And then your husband (or boss, or teacher, or friend) says “AS I WAS SAYING this is a story about cattle futures and the stock market . . . ” Or, actually, my husband or boss or teacher (if I had a teacher) would never say that. Maybe “. . . about Edward Gorey” or “. . . about intellectual property, counterfeit product sales online and their crossover into phishing fraud.” Or something like that. Anyway – I LOVE THAT.

I find great comfort in the familiar. It’s soothing to me to hear a song I know and love. The cadence, the words, they all flow through my mind effortlessly and, if I love the song, it makes me happy. Like a hug (because hugs make you happy. Unless your heart is cold, black and shriveled up). The same with my favorite old tv shows or the same books I have thumbed through a dozen times or more. The characters are like visiting with old friends and the familiar words are like a salve to my metaphorical open wounds.

On a recent business trip I had to figure out a book to take with me.

(Yes, technologically adept as I like to consider myself I do still have an overwhelming affinity for actual books. I like to feel them in my hands. I like to dog-ear the corners. I fear the term “dog-ear” will go out of fashion in 2.5 seconds due to all the electronics permeating our society. I’m so conflicted).

I have no less than 7 books on my bedside table that I have barely started or not cracked at all, but when I turned to grab one none appealed. Why? Well, there’s a lot of newness in my work life and I just couldn’t stand the idea of embarking on a new journey with a new author and a new story to work through in my already clouded and over-taxed head.

What if I didn’t like it 30 pages in? What if it was sad and depressing? What if it didn’t hug my soul like a tried and true good book can do?

So I chose an old favorite. Through 4 “please watch the safety demonstration in the event of an emergency landing” monologues while “all electronic equipment is switched off” I plowed through my old favorite, smiling at the words, remembering the characters. I found myself immersed, once again, entirely in the movie in my head – how Amelia’s jetty black hair looked (via a bottle, shhh), her blushing indulgence to femininity in her crimson gowns and fancy undergarments, and her painful need to be right and strong ,and her huge heart and conflicted morality. Ahhhh. There is nothing like catching up with old friends on long plane rides.

Or is it catching up with yourself? I have a theory (supported by nothing except my second Diet Pepsi tonight) that when we connect with something from the past – a book, a movie, a song, even a fragrance – it can take you back to the old YOU. The person you were then, when you first loved it, and it can feel like a comfort because it makes you feel like, or connect with – consciously or not – the old you. That old friend that you knew better than anyone, foibles and all, before you went through the experiences that makes you the YOU of today.

Over the summer I made several long car trips by myself (or with my children, but with THEIR electronic equipment I may as well have been by myself) and I had this odd thing happen. On one trip I was in the middle of the Oregon desert, the boys had their headphones on and I resorted to mindlessly hitting “seek” in hopes of finding something interesting. There were 3 radio stations that came in; one was political news (not on your life), the other was in Spanish (and that gets old when you don’t speak it), and the third . . . just happened to be playing a country song I LOVED when I was in high school (and filled with high school angst, I might add). I found myself singing the words before I could even remember the name of the song or who sang it. I just knew that I knew the words and as I sang each verse and got closer to the chorus I remembered the full song and . . . tears. No kidding. Tears. Because that song comforted me when I was a teen and broken-hearted and here I was, so many years later, and BAM! It pulled at my heart and I was in tears. I don’t remember the who, what or why of that broken-heart – I just remember the emotion the song conveyed all those years ago.

It’s like that movie with Meg Ryan and Tom Hanks. Sleepless in Seattle? And she’s in the car driving and listening to him on the radio, in a bit of a trance, and he just says something that clicks with her heart (something her mother had said, about love & magic) and she’s crying. Just like that. Those things they reverberate in your soul.

Or is that just me? Bah. Maybe. But that’s okay. I can own it.

So – if you find me listening to the soundtrack for The Sound of Music in my headphones please don’t mock because I’m probably a major stressball and I’m just reverting to my childhood happy place as a coping mechanism. Back when my mom and I used to pop popcorn and watch this movie every year around the holidays when it came on tv and I felt loved and when I watched Julie Andrews sing and I could breathe and I knew ALL THINGS IN LIFE WERE POSSIBLE.

Ahhh. Sigh. Breathe. Repeat.

Mucho amor, mes amis!

Stef

(No, I don’t speak Spanish. Or French. It’s Frenish. Just go with it).

Posted on by Wise Sass · 1 Comment

My Brain Hates Me

This kind of thing right here? This is killing me.

20120725-064514.jpg

This is today. It’s 7 am and I’ve been up for over 3 hours.

I.Need.Sleep.

So much on my mind lately and it seems impossible to turn off my brain. I recently figured out that slowly counting backward from 100 helps. Not last night (this morning?) though. (Can waking at 3:45 am be considered morning or is that still night?)

You’d think in 3 hours time I could do something useful. Fold laundry? Do my nails? Pay bills? Watch the unedited, full-length version of The Sound of Music? But no, because when it’s 4 or 5 am and you’re bone-tired all you want to do is lay there and try to sleep. Which is maddening. And super stupidly unproductive.

You know what else is maddeningly unproductive and mind-numbing? Staring at this for 6 hours:

20120725-065525.jpgBut that’s another story.

So fine. I’ve showered and I’m getting ready for work. You’ve won this battle, brain, but you won’t win the war.

Hello, Starbucks? Can you deliver grande mocha light frappuccinos hourly?

Yours in sleeplessness,

Stef

Posted on by Wise Sass

I Have Nothing to Say

That’s not the same as having nothing good to say, you understand. If I had nothing good to say I would say nothing at all. Or, as Olympia Dukakis once said, if I had nothing good to say then I would go sit by her.  (If you were born after 1990 then Google it. And stop using the term “yolo”).

I have nothing important to say. I can’t do justice to it all, you see.

First, though, my apologies for the delay in posting. I suck. Things have been busy and that’s my only excuse. We’ve gone through baseball season, I’ve had clients visit from Brazil, my kids have both finished their school year, my husband has been working various unusual jobs, and what else?? There have been school awards and school picnics, Father’s Day, 4th of July, end of quarter at work, the boys went on a mini-vacation with their grandparents and I got in a fender-bender. Rear-ended in the car we’re trying to sell, of course. Such is life.

Oh, and Magic Mike happened. Hellllloooo Channing Tatum.

 

You’re welcome.

 

So amid all this moderately controlled chaos there’s been other things – other things that put this routine disarray into perspective. Friends and relatives have lost friends and relatives. Children fighting cancer have lost their brave battles. High school friends have wept and agonized and hurt beyond measure over their dear son’s hospital bed wondering what if? What if? What if the accident had been a little different? What if he hadn’t been found so quickly? What if we had to wake up without him in the world?

Life has a way of helping us see the world more clearly. When we get into our own heads too much, when we can’t see beyond the pain or confusion within our own arm’s length, we get cosmically (or karmically?) pounded on the head until we see reason. Until we see and understand the world as a whole again, and understand our place in it.

We will have pain. We will have loss. We will have challenges. We will gain insight and perspective and a greater appreciation for every beautiful thing from every challenge we get through.

So, you see, I have nothing to say. The world is too beautiful for me to dwell on my own moderate injustices. My time is better spent being thankful for my myriad of blessings:

 

My baseball boy.

Cowboy dads.

 

Mommy & Boy time.

 

Dads & daughters.

Grandpas & grandsons.

 

Grandpas, grandsons & trains.

Fireworks & sons.

Amen.

 

With love,

Stef, xoxo

 

 

Posted on by Wise Sass · 2 Comments

Products I love for my face

I’m a typical mom. (At least, I think so).

When I was single, or before I had kids, or when money was more up than down, I took better care of myself. That includes all non-essentials – like personal care products (better, nicer, more expensive), massages, nail care (pedicures anyone?), and even vitamins. Less money plus more stress (kids busy-ness, work, finances) equals me not taking care of myself. This happens frequently. (Even though I work and make a decent income my husband is a freelance writer and actor so our income is up and down, up and down. Did I mention up and down?).

But my mom was in town last week and my mom likes to spoil me. As she put it, as my mother it’s her right to buy me those things I want but won’t buy myself. I love her! So, she took me to The Body Shop because she uses their Vitamin E cream for anti-aging. While there we discovered they were having a fabulous sale so we looked around a bit. And then she got me some products that have changed my life. For reals.

This brush is heaven. Heaven, I tell you. It feels like soft silk gently drifting down your face. Breathe, relax, de-stress. All in a freakin’ brush. Thank you, momma.

(Images and blurbs borrowed from http://www.thebodyshop-usa.com/)

Extra Virgin Minerals™ Foundation Brush

This large, rounded brush feels super-soft on your skin and is ideal for applying and blending our Extra Virgin Minerals™ Powder Foundation.
High-density, synthetic hairs pick-up ultra-fine powders and feel extra soft on the face’s delicate skin.
The long-lasting, hygienic bristles resist flattening.
Especially-designed handle stands upright.

Second, I hate liquid foundation so I’ve given it up (except on extreme occasions). Instead, I’ve been using powder. Powder from Target. $8 powder by Maybelline or some other such brand from the store. The gal at The Body Shop used the brush above and brushed on some of their face powder. WOW. Coverage. I was shocked that a powder could provide that much coverage. It evened my skin tone  and covered blotchy places and it rocked. Thank you, momma.

All In One Face Base

Best if you want to: Have skin that looks like yours, only better, with an easy-to-use powder-base.

Best for: light to medium to full coverage, oily and combination skin

What it is designed to do:

  • Convenient compact includes an applicator sponge and mirror for on-the-go application.
  • Dermatologist-approved, long-lasting formulation provides smooth coverage.
  • Community Trade marula oil from Namibia helps to repair skin’s moisture barrier.
  • Vitamin E is an antioxidant that helps to soften, condition and protect skin.

Third, and last, I was introduced to powdered bronzer for the first time. This stuff is awesome! The gal told me she uses it as blush most of the time or all over her face depending on the occasion, outfit, or time of year. I love it. I’ve been using it as a blusher since I got it and I think it’s awesome. Thank you, momma.

Baked-To-Last Bronzer

Best if you want to: Create a sun-kissed glow with a natural-looking bronzer, handmade and slow-baked for up to eight hours of deliciously rich color.

Best for: all skin types

What it is designed to do:

  • Community Trade organic olive oil from Italy helps to condition the skin.
  • Community Trade shea butter has antioxidant vitamins A and E to help protect and nourish skinCommunity Trade marula oil from Namibia helps to repair skin’s moisture barrier, leaving skin soft and supple.

These products have changed my life. Like, for reals. And they weren’t very expensive comparatively. I’m definitely going back to The Body Shop soon. I want MORE.

By actively seeking out and using better products I not only look better but I feel better about myself. I feel like I’m not compromising on some cheap product that I don’t have a lot of faith in before I even use them.

My mom said something interesting to me when I was lamenting about my products. She said, “I don’t know why women always go cheap on their products when it’s the one thing that we consistently use nearly every day. We act like it’s not a necessity and it really is.” Amen.

So, do me a favor, okay? Buy something good for yourself. Even if it’s just one thing. One thing that you have faith in and makes you feel like a million bucks. Buy it, use it, OWN it.

Have a good week, friends.

-Stef

The fine print: The Body Shop doesn’t know me. They have not paid me for this product endorsement and these products were paid for by my momma. (Thank you, again, momma). I just want to share a good thing. 🙂

Posted on by Wise Sass · 7 Comments

5 Things

Whenever I start feeling pressured by ALL THE THINGS going on in my life I think of The Bangles and the “Time, time, time, see what’s become of me” quote from Hazy Shade of Winter (an awesome song). (Now, my husband will surely correct me and tell me that particular quote comes from Paul Simon. That’s fine. Except in my head I also hear the music so it’s The Bangles reference I’m making here).

So, due to the time, time, time issue I just have snippets for you today. Snippets of ALL THE THINGS swirling around in my over-crowded head just begging to be released. Each of these are unique and vary wildly from mostly unrelated to drastically unrelated. Each of these have been taking up residence in my head and banging at me from the inside and I MUST LET THEM OUT:

1. All soccer, all the time. The boys have both started soccer. 4 days a week. Their soccer practices overlap by 30 minutes and are at two different schools a few miles apart. The hubby and I are tag-teaming big-time. Please tell me this push towards socialization, athleticism, and confidence-building will all be worthwhile. Please.

2. In relation to Soccer, my Autie boy is troubled. This is his first time playing an organized sport and if he’s not exceptional and perfect at all of it then his emotions are triggered and he wants none of it. His feet and hands aren’t as coordinated as he would like and he just can’t master that drop-kick and then he says, “No, I can’t do it! Can we go home now?” And he loudly and angrily throws a fit, in front of his teammates because he isn’t hampered by the need to conform like so many other kids. The coach doesn’t know how to deal with him. The teammates don’t know how to respond. I get embarrassed.  Then ashamed. I get down to his eye-level, I talk to him, I try to reason through it with him. I tell him he’s learning, like the other kids and continued practice is what will help him. He’s largely unresponsive. He says things like “I’m stupid! I hate you!” to himself and hits himself on the head. My poor boy. How do I build him up? How do I help him? What can I do?

3. How do you feel about your spirituality? Do you think about it much? Are you quiet and introverted about it? Or do you blast it out for all to share? I have always kept my spirituality to myself and, for the most part, my husband has as well. Now things are changing. My husband has embarked on a spiritual journey that is quite life-altering and he’s bringing the whole family along with him. After 26 years of not attending church he has had a change of heart; he has reconciled some of the bitterness from his past, and decided that being a follower of Christ does not necessarily mean that he has to be aligned with a bunch of judgmental hypocrites like the Crazy Christians. To that end, he has found a church he enjoys and the whole family attended with him for Easter. There are Lesbians! There is a female pastor that looks astonishingly like Kathy Bates! There is openness and acceptance of anybody, anywhere on their spiritual journey. I’m not used to being forced to contemplate my spirituality and beliefs as much as I have been lately. I’m not sure yet, but I think it could be a good thing. (I retain the right to change my opinion at any time.)

4. I think there comes a point in every person’s life when they have to come to terms with a hard truth or two. Their age, their health, their likeliness of ever becoming an astronaut, an Oscar winner, or a late-night TV show host. Whatever it is, the more personal, the more inextricably linked to self-esteem, self-confidence, and self-perception, the harder that truth is going to be to accept. I’m dealing with a few of those right now. It’s been a long time coming,  and it’s not like I didn’t know these things before – but facing them, head-on, is the hard part. For years it’s been a dance, a flirtation, jumping forward and facing the issue and then deftly twisting sideways, plugging my ears and sing-songing, “I can’t hear you!” Burying it deeply for as long as possible until, eventually, it’s triggered and raises up with a vengeance. It’s not going to flatten me this time. I’m not flinching. I’m going to walk straight up, smack the issue in the face and say, “NO.  YOU be MY bitch now!”

5. I’m straying outside of my normal comfort zone here, but stay with me. I’ve been on the periphery of these on-going discussions on abortion and Planned Parenthood and employer paid insurance coverage for birth control and, honestly, I’m sick to death of this subject. I am pro-life. I am also pro-choice. The two are not mutually exclusive. I am a mother. I love babies. I think they are a blessing and one of those things in life that is truly pure and angelic. I don’t want babies to die. I also don’t want mothers to die. Without mothers, we have no babies. Women bear the blessing and the burden of being the life-makers, but they can’t do it alone and it’s unconscionable for women to be attacked and demoralized for something that was, quite obviously, a joint endeavor. When a baby is conceived accidentally – whether by rape, stupidity or simply by accident – then a woman, and her partner for that matter, have the right to protect themselves and their futures. The woman, specifically, has a right to protect her health. In order to prevent unwanted pregnancies it is important that all women, rich and poor and in-between, have access to birth control. It’s important that organizations like Planned Parenthood are available to help women, ALL WOMEN, with their reproductive health via regular exams, cancer screenings, birth control and, yes, abortions when needed. It’s cheaper for insurances to cover birth control than it is for a woman to get an abortion or for a family to be on welfare. That’s how I see it. Now, if the rest of the U.S. would just get in line that would be great . . .

Five snippets. All different. All so very separate yet a part of me. A part of the river of thoughts flowing  through my brain and linked by all my experiences and knowledge. Always  pushing and pulling, turning and tumbling. It’s always a journey, sometimes unattainable, to find peace in my thoughts and in my heart. Sometimes easier than others. Love, support and encouragement helps and I’ve been trying hard to GIVE that to other people because I want it in return too. I need it.

This is where my favorite quote comes in:

Be kinder than necessary, for everyone you meet is fighting some kind of battle.

I hope your battle isn’t flattening you. I love you. I appreciate you. I think you are doing your best at ALL THE THINGS and that’s all that you can do.

Have a fabulous weekend, my friends. May your heart be at peace.

-Stef

Posted on by Wise Sass

Chicken & Rice soup – so simple & easy

I’m so tired of trying to think of things to cook at night that my whole family will eat I could just spit. In fact, I may have. The fact is: I will never make everybody happy. So I’ve just given up. I mean, sometimes I’ll specifically make things by request – but what the kids request is not what my husband likes. And sometimes not what I like. What my husband and I like is not what they like. Sometimes what my husband likes is not what ANYBODY likes. But him. (In which case he’s on his own).

So the other day I got home from work at 6:30 and my husband ran out the door to his play rehearsal with a yell over the shoulder, “The kids haven’t eaten yet!” I kicked off my shoes, put my hair up, and went to inspect the fridge. Then the pantry. Looking for inspiration. Then my gaze settled on the rice. Rice. Yum. Chicken. Yum. The kids should, possibly, maybe, eat this. Fingers-crossed.

From the pantry I grabbed a bag of Uncle Ben’s Converted Rice, an onion, a couple garlic cloves, canola oil and a can of Campbell’s Cream of Chicken soup.

From the fridge/freezer I grabbed a bag of frozen chicken tenders, a pint of half & half, butter, white wine and Better Than Bouillon concentrated stock (which we like so much better than bouillon cubes).

This is the part where I confess to not taking ANY pictures. I was HUNGRY dude. And busy.

Okay, so in a medium stockpot on medium heat, I poured some oil  and the diced onion and garlic. Let that simmer a bit then put in 4 or 5 frozen chicken tenders. After the chicken was mostly cooked (still a little pink in the middle, but that doesn’t matter because you cook it more) I took the chicken out and cut it up in smaller, bite-sized pieces. Put it back in and let it simmer more while I got other stuff ready. Then I added a little bit of wine to degrease the pan and get all that cooked yummy stuff up from the bottom and circulating in the soup.

I poured in 1 cup of rice, 2 cups of water, the can of Cream of Chicken soup, about half a cup of half & half (but in hindsight maybe a full cup would be best), stirred it all up and turned the burner to medium-low to simmer. I set the timer for 20 minutes and walked away. After 20 minutes I checked the rice and it was still a little firm so I added a little more half & half (probably for a total equivalent of 1 cup of half & half, but I tend not measure) and I also added 1 tbsp of butter. I also added a couple shakes of Tastefully Simple’s Onion Onion and Garlic Garlic because the flavor to add a touch more flavor. (Also, Cayenne would probably have been good but I didn’t try that because of the kids.) 10 more minutes on the timer.

At the end of 10 minutes it was perfect. Just the right consistency – not too runny because I’m not a huge fan of runny, brothy soups – but good creamy broth, yummy, flavorful chicken and overall a filling meal. I think broccoli would have been an excellent addition to the soup as well but I didn’t have any at the time. We’ll try that next.

My husband thought it was very good. He heated it up when he got home, added milk to thin it (because he likes a runnier soup) and he ate an entire big bowl. My kids? *sigh* They would not touch it. Frown. They saw that I made soup and ran screaming from the room. Seriously? What’s wrong with these kids? I was picky when I was a kid but, hello, rice? Chicken? That’s a no-brainer! So I made them heat up their own Chef Boyardee while I ate my yummy soup. So there.

Quick. Easy. Yummy.

Happy eating,

Stef

Posted on by Wise Sass

The best laid plans of moms and little men

Last Tuesday, I mean the Tuesday before last (though I can’t really believe it’s been THAT long) I had a plan. I had a party scheduled for that evening at my house. I had to go to the dentist, do a few hours of work, vote YES! for the school district levy, and then do the last minute cleaning and party prep. Totally do-able plan, right?

Except kids. Kids make do-able plans totally un-do-able.

My older dude is out of school for a 3 week spring break. This was day 2 of that break. A neighborhood kid from from his school was hanging out at the house. My little dude came home from school and they all three went outside to play. It was 4:30 and I was just getting my shoes and looking for a bra to put on so we could all go vote really quick. The party was scheduled at 6:30 and I still needed to shower so, you know, time was getting a little short.

Then I heard screaming.

I flew down the hall to the kitchen and my older dude’s friend was saying, “He’s hurt! He fell! He needs you!” and before we could run out the door he came in holding his chin, crying, screaming, with blood running down his arms. I knew that posture. I knew that look. I knew that feeling.

Flashback to 1980, the first day in our new house with a swimming pool. I said, “Just one more, mom,” as I stepped on the diving board, my foot slipped, and my chin hit the diving board. Hard. I got my first stitches ever that day. Flashback, again, to about 1989, and I’m rock-hopping at Dinkey Creek with my cousin and my foot slips on a wet rock and my chin connected with the rock. I walked back to our cabin and I just KNEW I had split my chin open again. I knew it.

And as I looked at my son and he tilted his head up for me to see the wound I just knew it. I mouthed to my husband “stitches” and he quickly gathered up the big dude in his arms and walked him to the car, amid hysterical screams and cries saying, “no, no, just give me a band-aid!” and he sat holding my almost 10 year old in the backseat all the way to the ER. Daddy-made seat belt, as it were (not safe, I know, but sometimes you do what you gotta do). I grabbed the little dude, my purse and a bra and hopped in the car to drive to our “usual” ER/Urgent care. (It’s not a full hospital but does have 24 hour ER care and, yes, we’ve been their multiple times).

I frantically called my stepmom – could she come over early and help do the final prep stuff for the party? The party that is in 2 hours? No, she had the days wrong and couldn’t come over tonight. I called my mom-in-law and she wasn’t feeling well enough to come either (and she’s having surgery next week so she gets a pass for these things!). By this time it’s 4:45ish. What to do, what to do? Well . . .  cancel the dang party.

So then – driving, texting at stoplights, updating my FB party invite, emailing co-workers frantically to tell them not to come! We won’t be there!- all the while my son is hysterical in the backseat, crying, begging to go home and just get a band-aid and insisting that it will “TOTALLY HEAL ON IT’S OWN!!!”

In the end – 1 very painful shot, 6 stitches, 3 hours in the ER and a tub of ice cream and a Red Box movie.

He was such a trooper. The shot was the worst part – for him and for ME – but once that part was done he just settled down and let the doctor stitch away. He later told his friend it was a “piece of cake.” That kid. Thank goodness kids are resilient.

So the party was cancelled. C’est la vie! There will always be parties. But when my boy is my age he’ll remember me holding his hand the entire time he was getting stitched – just like I remember my dad doing for me. Um, the second time.

And the party? I didn’t reschedule. The food wouldn’t have kept. So I took it all to my office the next day and my co-workers had a Tastefully Simple feast.

Priorities. Perspective. Stitches.

Take care, y’all,

Stef

Posted on by Wise Sass · 2 Comments

I’m not really here

In fact, I’m not really anywhere. I don’t know which way is up, or down, or sideways either. I can’t tell if it’s morning or night, and the work days seem to blend into the weekends.

I no longer have much interest in interacting much on Facebook, Instagram or Twitter. I try. I fail. Miserably.

Friends? Socializing? Huh? What are these things you speak of?

Eight years ago I thought having a toddler, a baby, a working spouse and a full-time job was difficult. That was until I had 8 & 9 year olds, a full-time all-ohmyword-consuming job and a husband who acts in community theatre.

This post is brought to you by 7 weeks of my husband having nearly daily rehearsals and essentially leaving me as a solo mom at night and on Saturdays. And it’s brought to you by a vast well of work disappointment (that I won’t speak about here but trust me, it’s vast.) It’s brought to you by a perpetually messy house and some sleepless nights. It’s brought to you by loneliness. And it’s brought to you by Ally McBeal.

Yes, Ally McBeal. The TV show and the character. My best friend and I used to watch Ally McBeal together. Well, technically, I was living in Idaho and she was in California and we would call each other on the commercials to talk about what had JUST happened. Then we would hang up. Then call back again. It was one of those things.

Ever since Netflix came into my life I’ve wished that Ally McBeal was available for streaming. I’ve checked a few times a year. Last week my wishes came true. YES.

As I type this I’m sitting on my sofa with my laptop in front of me and my iPad streaming Ally next to me. With headphones, though, because my kids are watching Spy Kids in the same room. (So, yes, I’m sort of keeping an eye on them. That’s enough, right?)

And I’m loving this.

I’m watching Calista Flockhart in all her floopiness. She was the original Zooey Deschanel, you know. She was quirky before quirky was cool.

Oh, and the unisex! Fishisms! Do you remember, “knee pit?” The dancing baby. Vonda Shepard. The biscuit! And Barry White.  “We got it together, didn’t we? We got it together, baby.”

And , of course, Robert Downey Jr. before he was Iron Man. Younger and devastatingly handsome. And crooning. I just watched this clip:

There’s something very comforting about watching this. I loved him on this show. He and Ally were magical.

For the length of this 40 minute episode I’m not an exhausted mommy anymore. I can forget about work frustrations, I can throw a blind eye to the laundry, and I can even, temporarily, keep myself from saying, “Don’t stand on the sofa! Don’t throw toys at the TV! Don’t fart on your brother’s head!”

(You’d be surprised how often that last one comes up).

So thank you Netflix and thank you Ally McBeal. Thank you for being the escape comforting me today.

Happy Friday, y’all.

XOXO,

Stef

Posted on by Wise Sass

San Francisco, my city home

I’ve been in San Francisco for the last 3 days and every time I’m here I experience something new, incredible and glorious. Whether it’s the time I spend with my friends/co-workers or the different places we go, it’s always a wonderful addition to my memory bank.

This week was, in some respects, harder for me than usual. I felt weighed down with a heavy emotional burden and it was hard to shake that at times. But I did, thanks to the people I’ve been with here, and it’s helped me a lot.

Though I’ve been in the city for work meetings this week, we always manage a bit of play. My friends from our London office are generally the life of the party and they certainly didn’t disappoint this time.

First, just two blocks or so from my hotel was the Blue Bottle cafe. Now, I’m not a serious coffee person. I like my chocolate with coffee rather than the other way around. This place is not meant for people like me. These people are serious about their coffee. Take a look at this contraption – they tell me it’s vacuum-sealed brewing or something but it just looks like a chem experiment to me:

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We ate at the Wayfare Tavern, a Tyler Florence restaurant, in their Bartlett Room. I’m not sure what Bartlett they are referring to but I prefer to think of President Bartlett (in the utopian society inside my head):

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The food was excellent. The tri-tip melted in my mouth like prime rib. Awesomeness.

That day I gave my presentation at our meetings. It was received with thunderous applause and accolades while confetti was shot from the ceiling and showgirls danced. Okay, fine, there were no showgirls. There must have been confetti though, right?

The meetings culminated in last night’s “holiday” party at Harry Denton’s Starlight Room at the top of the Sir Francis Drake Hotel. What a treat! We sang, we danced, we cried! (oh, no, the crying was when I got back to my room and pried my high heels off my swollen & bruised feet. Why oh why must we do that to ourselves? I can barely hobble today.) It was glorious and I wouldn’t change a thing.

Here are some views from the Starlight Room:

The Westin St. Francis towered over us:

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And we towered over Union Square:

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But, to be honest, I think my favorite picture from the trip was taken in a quiet moment in my hotel room. I was contemplating friends, relationships between them, life and its ever evolving nature, as I sat in my hotel window watching the sunset. My room overlooks Yerba Buena gardens, St. Patrick’s Cathedral, and the Jewish Museum. As dusk was settling in and the rain was starting, these little lights popped on and they were so random, and somehow elegant, and they beautifully illuminated this gloomy eve.

A patch of light in the falling darkness:

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San Francisco is my city-home. I don’t live my life here but I feel at home whenever I visit. “Save me, San Francisco,” indeed.

XOXO,

Stef

Posted on by Wise Sass · 1 Comment

Brave Girls Unite

My beautifully brave sister in law posted a note to my wonderful mother in law today on Facebook. I read it. I gasped. I loved it immediately.

This is what I need. This is what all women need. How could I have not known about this earlier?

It’s a site called http://bravegirlsclub.com/. The letter I read was from their Daily Truths emails which seem to always start with “A little bird told me . . . ” and then goes on to give you a daily boost.

LOVE, LOVE, LOVE.

I flipped through some of their Daily Truths and this one stuck with me. This is for my girls down in a hole of despair and pain. Baby, it will get better.

I’ll recreate the whole note here and link to it as well so you can see the pretty graphics:

 

Dear Extraordinary Girl,

The path to the best places for us sometimes must take a trip through the muck to get to the other side of it. Sometimes that truly is the only way.

When we are in the middle of it, it feels senseless and like such a complete waste of time (let alone not very comfortable)When we are in painful places in life, or even just annoyingly uncomfortable places, it’s important to remember that we are headed somewhere else if we want to be.

We do not have to stay stuck there. Sometimes it takes a while to work our way out of it, and sometimes we don’t know how we got there in the first place, but mucky yucky places on the path of life are always temporary if we are willing to work our way out of them.

We are not meant to stay stuck. We are not meant to be stagnant. We are not meant to be in pain for any longer than it is necessary to teach us. We are meant to shine, to fly and to have joy. Even when we are in a place where it’s nearly impossible to do this, there is always a way out of that mucky place. It is always temporary.

Please believe this, beautiful friend.

If you are in a mucky spot, just keep going, keep going ’til you get to the other side of it. It will be SO worth it.

Don’t you dare give up now.

You are so loved.

xoxo

Here’s the link: http://www.bravegirlsclub.com/dailytruths/oct1111.htm.

You tell me what woman doesn’t need a daily affirmation like this and I’ll then prove that woman is really a man. And sometimes men need them too.

YOU ARE SO LOVED. Every one of you.

Stef