small hands

I had two very interesting conversations in the last 24 hours.

The first was with my younger brother. He dropped by for a visit on Sunday afternoon. I had finished working in the yard (run out of energy, not tasks that need to be completed) and was watching some of the fourth season of Sex and the City on DVD. I gave him a glass of cranberry juice and we sat on the patio. He wanted to know all about my trip to New York City, so that was the starting point of the conversation.

At some point we talked about my ex, and my brother, who regularly golfs with my ex, said that my ex is pathologically selfish and self-centered, that he puts up a good front, but it's just a con job. He said that it is good that I paid him off in order to have closure in the divorce, recognizing that my ex did not need the money, but from now on I should not have to hear one iota of whining from him. (I wish.)

These are stunning observations coming from my brother, and it is comforting that he realizes what I have been screaming about for the last three years (or more). It would have been nice to hear it earlier, when I was in deep pain, but...eh...what are you gonna do?

The second conversation occurred this morning, when I got a visit from a lawyer that I respect and admire greatly. She and I were pregnant with our sons at the same time and now she is expecting a second baby. She wanted to visit and to let me know that she was solicited to apply for a judgeship. I think she would be an excellent judge. She said that there were other judges on the bench who thought that I should apply as well. Me. Be a judge.

Ha! It’s actually something I would not want to do at this point in my life. But it’s cool that all of the work that I have done as a lawyer has given me a good reputation.

Liberty protects the person from unwarranted government intrusions into a dwelling or other private places. In our tradition the State is not omnipresent in the home. And there are other spheres of our lives and existence, outside the home, where the State should not be a dominant presence. Freedom extends beyond spatial bounds. Liberty presumes an autonomy of self that includes freedom of thought, belief, expression, and certain intimate conduct. The instant case involves liberty of the person both in its spatial and more transcendent dimensions.

Lawrence v. Texas (2003)

Two thoughts:

1. The folks who don't like this decision are right now sending money to their interest groups and ideological counterparts in politics. Thus, it behooves those of us who are pleased with this decision to do likewise. The Village Idiot raised $5.1 million in two stops in California yesterday.

2. I noticed a lot of sound bites that I heard referred to how this protects love between gay people. Here's the thing: it protects the private sexual acts of consenting gay adults, whether they love each other or not.

I understand why framing the jubilation in terms of love is a counterweight to the stereotypes of promiscuity, etc. And how this is a subtle guide to the next frontier, which is gay marriage (love--> commitment ---->marriage).

In granting women the right to privacy in contraception (Griswold v. Connecticut) and later abortion (Roe v. Wade), this right exists irrespective of the marital status of the woman. The Lawrence decision is bigger than love--it's about liberty, equal protection and dignity for all gay people.

Which is so groovy.

It is so hot. It was 99 in Oakland yesterday and I felt completely insane in the evening. My son was clinging to me and whining, refusing to take a cool bath with a heat rash on his face, and I had no patience. It was 109 where FIRE lives. What.The.Fuck?

This is how the hot weather was getting to us all: my son tried to spit on his sister while we were in the car heading home. I popped him on the head to get his attention and stop the spitting and he said I was a bad mother. I said he was a bad guy for spitting on, scratching and biting his sister. He repeated that I am a bad mother. I said I must be a bad mother, otherwise, why would my son spit, scratch and bite. My daughter then started to cry, saying that I’m a good mother and it makes her feel weird to hear me say that I am a bad mother. So I had to comfort her once we got out of the car. And the rest of the evening I felt overheated, cranky and short tempered.

I’m laying low today, just trying to stay cool and inside of an air conditioned building.

I know the rest of y’all live in hot places, but how do you stand the heat and the mosquitos?

Speaking of heat and mosquitos, he’ll never be dead enough.

Sometimes it goes the other way, too.

–True Romance

Yeah, babe. The fucking Supremes are finally on the money. Champagne for everybody!!!

Main Entry: sod·omy
Function: noun
Etymology: Middle English, from Old French sodomie, from Late Latin Sodoma Sodom; from the homosexual proclivities of the men of the city in Gen 19:1-11
Date: 13th century

1 : copulation with a member of the same sex or with an animal
2 : noncoital and especially anal or oral copulation with a member of the opposite sex

Now, all of you, it's the Summer of Love for goodness sake. Read the above and get busy. :o)


HAPPY BIRTHDAY JAMES!!!

It’s going to be very warm today. So I am wearing a short sleeved shirt and a long loose skirt, ready for the heat.

It is shaping up as a real summer so far. Gasp. I suppose July and August and September could still serve up the usual–fog and cool temperatures–but these days I’m working with tired and hungry sunburnt kids, a fan going to try to get the air moving, sleeping with the windows open, and some real laziness creeping into my bones.

Donald has declared it the Summer of Love, and his ad in the Village Voice is really cool.

My boy has a summer cold and I gave him some “nasty” medicine to deal with his barking cough and runny nose. I also let him wash the nasty taste down with juice, so I woke up at 11PM to a small river of pee. I changed my clothes and his and he didn’t even wake up.

I finished Harry Potter last night, so now I can read it again, a little slower this time. What I would say to Ms. Rowling is this: in an 870 page book, you don’t have to save up all the resolutions and answers until the last 30 pages. You can sprinkle them throughout a 700 page book–one that is not quite so bloated. I did enjoy it though. My girl asked me this morning if I was proud of myself for finishing it. I said that I was sad it was over.

Robin had her baby. Yay, Robin!!

When we were at the Alameda County Fair on Sunday and looking at old farm equipment, my sister mentioned that in Africa, this farm equipment would be prized, as they have nothing. Later, we looked at a scroll saw demonstration and she said that if you gave a village in Africa one of them, they could make crafts and sell them.

Then this morning I was listening to Nicholas Kristoff being interviewed by Terry Gross and he spoke about how he took a trip to Africa because the conditions there are so ignored. On another station, George McGovern was discussing the conditions in Africa as well, framed by a lot of wonderful liberal ideology.

And it got me wondering what I could do to help the situation in Africa.

I remember when the situation in Goma, Zaire was on the front page and I immediately sent money to Doctors Without Borders.

There is always UNICEF, I suppose.

And then again, I could always write to the Village Idiot and tell him to direct his administration’s attention to the slaughter in Congo. I suppose I would have to praise his drop in the bucket pledge to help fight AIDS in Africa.

So that’s what I’m gonna do.

Four hours of sleep, but it’s my own dang fault.

My daughter had too much sun and not enough fluids at camp yesterday, so she came home feeling very headachey and miserable. I gave her Children’s Tylenol and made her drink a big glass of water and lie down in front of the fan. I made Fettuccini carbonara while she rested, thinking she would be too nauseous to eat any dinner. I was wrong. She ate two plates of it, leaving the bacon on the side of her plate. She said she liked the long flat noodles, which makes me think I’ve probably been feeding my kids too much penne. I have never made a carbonara sauce before and I was doubtful about the eggs–whether it would taste too eggy, whether the eggs would scramble. But it was very good. Black pepper is essential.

FIRE called while I was putting away the pasta and straightening up the kitchen(which was a huge mess–oy) and asked to come over after the children went to sleep. So I put them to bed at around 9PM, wrangling my boy to actually go to sleep until almost 10PM, then I got up, took a shower and read until he arrived at 11:30PM. I picked up the new Harry Potter at Costco and read 400 pages yesterday. I hope all the folks who made advance orders got their books promptly. I know Eve did. ;o)

FIRE left at around 1:30AM and then I got into bed with my kids. My daughter woke up at 5:30AM, wailing about a bad dream she had where she went into a cave with a bunch of her girl friends from school and Eliza Thornberry and she got lost and I was calling to her. She cried and hugged me and woke up her brother, who didn’t want her to hug me. We tussled and rearranged, then I held then both and my girl fell back to sleep. I got up and read more, before making a pot of coffee and getting us ready to go.

james' birthday (the big 4-0) is on Thursday. Happy Birthday James!!!

You're still a young man, baby
Ooo oo

--Tower of Power

A nice weekend...wahoo.

My sister called Friday night and suggested we go to the Alameda County Fair on Sunday. Since it’s my older sister, I didn’t tell the children about it until Saturday evening, and said that there was a chance it wouldn’t happen. But my sister called at 8:30 on Sunday morning and asked if we were ready to go. Since my son had been awake since 6:30, announcing that it was morning time, and therefore no more sleeping, I was showered and dressed and my children were in the back yard playing with their refrigerator box by the time she called.

We got out there at around 10 AM. It was the perfect time to go. No big crowds, warm but not too warm weather out in Pleasanton. We did everything–I got the kids unlimited passes on the all the rides. My son was too short for a lot of them (he’s 40 inches now, but not 42 inches), but the ones he could ride he did ride, more than once. We ate fair food (yippee) including...drum roll...a deep fried Twinkie. I had a taste, one small forkful, so now I am a real American, I guess. In the last 20 minutes of the six hours we spent there, my son fell asleep on my shoulder and I held him while my daughter and her cousins went on their last ride. It was so sweet to hold my unconscious boy, sitting at a picnic table in the shade. It never got too crowded or too warm and it was great, great fun.

As we were going to sleep, we went over the day–they went on the Dizzy Dragons, they rode the Merry-Go-Round, he rode on a roller coaster shaped like a dragon, which was scarey, but he held on tight, he had a pony ride, we saw old tractors, my daughter braided wheat stalks together to make a Christmas ornaments, we saw the pig races, my boy fed sliced carrots to goats, cows, and a baby camel, they went into a pirate ship, they drove a jeep, we watched a cooking demonstration, they say in a teepee....

When we got home we planted grass seed together and watered. In the evening, I gave them a bath and washed my girl’s hair, hurrying with the rinsing and conditioning because it was getting close to 9PM. Because it’s summer, I let them stay up and watch the Cosby Show while I watched the season premier of Sex and the City (very good). My son came and watched some of it with me, but he mostly just wanted to snuggle.

Hey, State of California residents. If you want to pre-register for the Do Not Call list, which will allow the Attorney General to prosecute telemarketers for calling you after you register your telephone number(s), go here.

This is cool. Not a slam dunk by any means, but quite, quite decent.

I'm getting out of the habit of blogging on the weekends, usually because it's so crammed with gardening, cleaning, shopping, and "Mommy, where are you?" However, I always say that busy is no excuse.

Anyway, I took the kids to the movies this afternoon, to see Rugrats Go Wild. The truth is that I loathe the Rugrats franchise and I loathe the term rug rats. However, I like taking my kids to the movies. I am thankful their father takes them to the majority of kids movies they clamor to see, because there is no way I could sit through Daddy Day Care. And the previews are always enough to send me over the bend.

This morning I waited for my refrigerator to be delivered and weeded in the front. Finally, after 4 hours of waiting, the guys showed up and worked very hard to get the old refrigerator out and the new one in. My children insisted on keeping the refrigerator box, so it's in the back yard, serving as a fort and a source of screaming and merriment, until I cut it up and recycle it. I will have to wait until they get bored with it, but that won't take too long.

The old refrigerator decided to go out with a bang and flood from the ice maker; something it has never done before. A stream of ice water flowed across the kitchen floor and out the door. Oh well.

I get annoyed with myself when I discover things in the refrigerator and cupboards that I have bought a second one of because I forgot about the first. I discovered three bottles of Hoisin sauce in my kitchen one time; three. This time it was a perfectly good quart of half n half, not expired until July 1.

The weather is gorgeous. I am waiting for it to be shady in my back yard before I do some weeding and watering.

Hope y'all are having a good weekend.

Yesterday afternoon I had to go to San Francisco for a hearing in federal court. The courthouse is in the Tenderloin District, and it occurred to me that I might be able to finally try a Vietnamese sandwich, since there is a large Vietnamese population living and working there. I walked from the Civic Center BART station to the courthouse, keeping my eyes open, and sure enough I found a small place near Hastings Law School which sold them. Score. I got a barbecued pork sandwich, which came with shredded carrots, cilantro, sliced peppers, onions and mystery sauce. And a diet Coke. I took it into the courthouse and ate it in the second floor cafeteria. It was delicious.

I still had plenty of time before the hearing, so I read this book. It’s not bad, a little dull. It takes place in South Africa before World War II.

After the hearing, I strolled through the stands at the Civic Center plaza, then got back on BART and went home. I changed out of my work clothes and started cleaning the kitchen by taking out the garbage. The bag exploded in the doorway between the kitchen and the dining room and it was unbelievably disgusting. I had to mop the floor to get rid of the smell of garbage before I could do anything else. Then I washed the dishes and cleaned the kitchen and went to get my kids.

My girl and I shared a bag of peanut M & Ms as she told me about her day. I told her that I would need to ask my mother to take her to camp on Friday morning because I had to get to court by 8:30AM. She said that my mother had taken her to camp that morning, at the behest of my ex. I felt grinding irritation, compounded later by the fact that I couldn’t reach her to ask her to do me the same favor.

My little dude was playing contentedly when we picked him up. A teacher gave me his artwork–three kernels of corn glued to a red piece of paper. *Chuckle*

I took them home and made them dinner. I wasn’t hungry, so after they ate I did laundry, shampooed the carpet in the bedroom, and watered the plants in front of the house.

It was nice to have more time to be at home with my kids in the long summer evening, because I got home earlier than usual.

This morning I woke up early because I had a hearing and I was startled by the sight of my boy sleeping beside me. He looked so beautiful, sleeping in his Batman and Robin underwear. We’ve been having great success with the bedwetting, following the simple formula of no big consumption of fluids right before bed. He is used to juice and nursing at bedtime, so he whines a bit for a drink, but last night, when I gave him a small cup of water, he spit most of it onto the bathroom floor. I wiped it up, leading him back to the bedroom and promising him a drink in the morning. As soon as he woke up, he stumbled out of bed and asked for a drink. I had it ready for him, true to my word.

My girl asked me three times if I would be done with work in time to see her end of the week performance. I promised her three times that I would be there.

I am looking forward to this weekend. I have no big plans. I hope to work on my quilt. Maybe take the kids to the movies. Fertilize and prune the roses. Weed in the back yard. Plant grass seed. Sending loving safe delivery vibes to Robin.

Note: There's something slightly funky going on with my comments. I get comments, but there is no indication, like 4 Comments, showing up below the post. *Shrug*


Love’s Trajectory

I discussed this with D. over a comfort food lunch, which I needed because on Monday I had my fourth flat tire in three months. I got this set of tires from Costco and they are shit.

Anyway, we were talking about FIRE and how it's going and she wanted to know if I intended to remarry. I told her under no circumstances did I intend to remarry.

I explained to her that there is a stereotypical trajectory for love/relationships–meet, get to know each other, fall in love, couple/commit, [marry] stay together or break up. I told her that’s just a stereotype, that there are all kinds of paths a relationship can take. I told her that I wasn’t going down the traditional road any more and I wasn’t going to try to impose certain stereotypes on my relationship which would cause stress to me, FIRE and/or my children.

Some things that may be common in other relationships that have to be changed in this one:

Seeing each other multiple times during the week. It would be lovely, but we have a lot of other commitments [work, childcare, his business interests, logistical considerations] we have to make.

Meeting my kids–they’ve been through a lot of change in the last year and even if their father is introducing them to his new mate, I do not intend to impose more change on them at this point. Especially with my daughter, they are comforted in the fact that they have me, that they don’t share my attention with anyone. I was distracted from them while I was grappling with my dying marriage, but my attention is back and they have a rightful claim to it.

Sleeping together in my bed. When I see him and my kids are sleeping in my bed, we have to be elsewhere. It’s cool.

Meeting my family. This one is complicated. There is no good reason for him to meet my family, because I am grown and I have a life that is very separate from my family. However, it’s part of what is expected at some point in a relationship. The reason I don’t foresee it happening is because my family is still enmeshed with my ex. Furthermore, presenting him to my family would be giving them the opportunity to judge him. Why should I do that? He’s mine, not theirs.

I like having my own space. I like how my priorities are configured [children, home, work]. I like how much peace of mind I have right now.

That being said, things change all the time, so who knows what our thing is gonna look like in a year.

The truth is I don't believe in happily ever after. I like him, he likes me, we dig spending time together. But I am not going to present us to the world as what is and will be, so that my children or my family have to reconfigure their understanding of me.

Thursday Three

1. Who do you admire most?
My mother.

2. What have they has she done to make you admire them her?

Raised seven children, worked since she was 12 years old, graduated from one of the top law schools in the country while raising 5 children, great cook, great reader, tenacious, adventurous, generous.

3. What would you say to someone if they told you they admired you?

Thank you.

Summer is here.

Not officially, yet, but unofficially, babe, it’s all over the place.

My girl slept in her bed last night, saying that my bed is too warm. Okay. Just me and the boogie man in the family bed/my bed. I woke up at midnight and finished this book. It ends rather abruptly and I felt deeply concerned about the fate of the people portrayed in the book.

My girl is having a very good time at her summer arts camp. She is getting a lot of sun and exercise. It’s a bit granola, lots of tie dye and batik, but I know she digs it. And she eats a lot of dinner and sleeps very soundly, so I know her day has gone well.

My little man likes his preschool too. One of the teachers is concerned that he is too quiet and not asserting himself enough, but she will rue the day she wished for more assertiveness from my dude, because it is on its way. :o)

He is changing so much every day and becoming a lot more talkative and imaginative. We have great conversations and he is so affectionate and loving.

The weather is typical Bay Area summer: foggy and overcast in the morning, burning off and very warm and dry in the afternoon and evening. My son asked me why and I explained that the warm air in the central valley sucks the fog in from the Pacific Ocean. [I could be dead ass wrong, but that’s what I remember hearing.]

I am looking forward to trying out a bunch of salads this summer, too. I picked these two out for this week.

How did I meet FIRE?

Hmm...well, first off I feel kinda squishy about writing about it, because I like him. A lot.

But, here goes. I met him at work. Six years ago. I had to interview him about one of his colleagues, who had mental problems and needed to be relieved of his job duties.

He came into my office and talked about his colleague. But we also laughed and visited and he quoted Ice Cube.

After that, I saw him maybe once a year, passing each other in the hall and saying hello.

About six months ago, in the hall, we chatted for a longer period of time, and he asked me out to lunch. I said okay and he got a really surprised look on his face. He later explained that he was surprised that I accepted.

We had lunch and talked and laughed and then I asked the big question: What version of Star Trek did he like, the original with William Shatner or the Next Generation ones. He said he liked the original. The correct answer. So we started seeing each other.

No one at my job knows about him, except D. There’s a huge, sticky reason why, which is too painful to write about today. It has nothing to do with FIRE or me, it has to do with our jobs. D. asked me recently how it’s going and I said it’s going fine. She said I seemed a little dispassionate about it. I said that I am not, but that I don’t want my life to be moved high or low by my relationship with him.

I spoke to him on the phone Monday and my girl got upset. I wasn't saying anything that would clue her in that I was talking to someone romantically (although there could have been a vibe), but it wasn't my usual get-on-the-phone-convey-receive-information-get-off-the-phone-as-quickly-as-possible. She said she felt funny if I spent too much time on the phone and two big tears rolled down her cheeks.

What to do, what to do? I said that I would do my best not to stay on the phone too long.

Ahh...how nice to sit in my office with door closed and decompress a little from the weekend.

The weekend was more intense than work...how odd.

It was a good kind of intense, though.

My children went camping with their father. I was worried about my son in particular, since they went camping at Lake Pardee. I had visions of him not being watched, wandering off, and drowning.

They came back safe and sound and filthy.

Saturday I had a trifecta of cool/vivid experiences: I went to see my therapist, I picked up some curried chicken and basmati rice from Vik’s, then I went to Annie’s Annuals and bought some really beautiful plants.

There is something amazing about shopping in gorgeous weather for flowers, one's mouth tingling after eating curried rice with cashews, raisins and cardamom seeds. I shouldn’t have eaten it while I was driving to the nursery, so that I could have enjoyed it more. But I was starving and the smell was making me crazy.

Then I went and got my eyebrows shaped. It’s always a gamble to go into the shop where I get it done, because the proprietor listens to religious music and sometimes, if I have to wait too long and listen to too much, I start to feel bent out of shape. And sometimes the shop conversation of the other customers can make me feel crazy, if it’s too much about hair and nails and clothes and so on.

This time I had to wait for a half an hour for a one minute procedure, so I wasn’t happy, listening to religious music and the proprietor’s daughter bragging about how smart her daughter is. It’s true that her daughter is very bright, very precocious and outgoing, but it’s just a bit much. And I’m never impressed with the mother who brags about how she lays down the law with her kids, makes very strict boundaries when they are really small, so that they are supposed to seem to be perfectly regulated and she is a model of control and serenity. Because we all know what a crock of shit that is.

I got out of there and went to buy a refrigerator. I picked this one. I looked at it for a long time, though I had picked the model I wanted on an earlier visit. The price changed from the last time I visited the store–it was cut by $50. But I thought it was a 25.9 cu foot refrigerator, not 25 cu foot. I was vacillating back and forth, then I reminded myself that I need this refrigerator for three people, not seven, not nine. Three. The whole big-family thing that I carry around in my head from my childhood is not the reality I have today. Then, 25 cu feet seemed like plenty.

It’s not stainless steel–but I thought it was not reasonable to spend $1600 or more for a trendy finish.

Then I went home and rested. I don’t want to go shopping again for a while.

In the evening, I cut the lawn in the back yard and watered the grass. I took some of my patio furniture out of the box (delivered in two boxes six days earlier), but then I got tired and the sun was setting, so I didn’t finish unpacking it.

Sunday morning, after coffee and the newspaper, I got dressed and put on my straw hat to go work in the back yard setting up the patio furniture. It went slowly, but smoothly, until I discovered that the patio umbrella that I bought from Costco was missing a piece; so I took it back and got another one. I expected a big hassle because I didn’t have the receipt, but there was no hassle whatsoever.

I picked up some more curried chicken and basmati rice from Viks (where the staff is lovely, by the way) and brought it back home, set up the patio umbrella and sat on my patio in the shade and had lunch. It was delicious.

I planted the flowers I bought from Annie’s Annuals, bought some fabric from Discount Fabrics on Ashby in Berkeley, took a shower, and then my girl called to say she wanted to come home.

Once the children got home we went to the grocery store to get supplies for her lunch today–her first day at her summer arts program. We got blueberries, strawberries, bread and popcorn. When we got back home, I made dinner, after setting up my son’s tee ball in the back yard. That was my Father’s Day moment.

I had been feeling kind of bent out of shape about Father’s Day, experiencing a lot of resentment toward my children’s father, not wanting to hear news reports about Father’s Day, feeling very pissed at all the advertisements to buy Dad a grill and shit like that.

Setting up the tee ball and playing with my son, I just felt more at ease about the day.

My girl picked a bouquet of nasturtiums for the summer program director, whom she ran up and hugged this morning.

The children took a bath after dinner and my son fell asleep a third of the way through the first story I read to them.

The weather is glorious today. I wish I had two extra days at home, to chill (and not shop) and clean up the house and make curtains.

Eating a raspberry scone and drinking a big old giant cup of Sumatra makes me feel quite groovy about life.

It’s sunny today.

Weekend plans:

Go to Annie’s Annuals, buy plants, plant in yard
Cut lawns
Unpack completely
Assemble TV table from IKEA
Shop for sari scarves on University Avenue in Berkeley
Eat noodles at Vi’s
See FIRE (?)
Do (wash, dry, fold and put away) laundry (although I got a head start last night)
Finish reading Random Family

Friday Five

1. What's one thing you've always wanted to do, but never have?
Visit China.

2. When someone asks your opinion about a new haircut/outfit/etc, are you always honest?
No, not if it looks terrible and I love the person. Then I lie.

3. Have you ever found out something about a friend and then wished you hadn't? What happened?
No, I love information, good, bad or indifferent.

4. If you could live in any fictional world (from a book/movie/game/etc.) which would it be and why?
None. This world is quite interesting to me.

5. What's one talent/skill you don't have but always wanted?
The ability to speak Spanish.

My boy did very well at his first day at preschool.

When I went to go get him, he was in the backyard, shoveling with a mini-shovel. The teachers told me that he had a stellar day. He took my hand and wanted to get out of there, but I got his first painting from his cubby before we left. He took off his shoes and socks as soon as we got into the car and poured out a bucket of sand from each. Then he leaned back in his car seat and sighed.

I carried him, barefoot, into the Ace Hardware on Grand Avenue to have my one house key copied [so Victor can get into my house today and clean up the destruction in the attic from the roofing. It boggles the mind the amount of dust and debris that is up there. I gave him the last payment–only $780 (for a new chimney and some dry rot) over budget–he is so my boyfriend.]

As I was carrying my son, I kissed my baby, who smelled of soap from the bathrooms at his school.

We had a peaceful evening, with me cornrowing half of my girl’s hair last night, and the other half this morning. My boy slept quite soundly and did not wet the bed.

I felt so contented with them this morning, just doing our morning thing, brushing teeth, combing hair, making up the bed. I haven’t worked out the time of the new drop off thing and got my girl to school late, but hey..school’s out tomorrow and she has a field trip today.

Their father is taking them on a camping trip tomorrow afternoon. He hasn’t told me where–dipshit.

I was realizing on the way to work that since I have stopped nursing my guy, I am probably going through some hormonal changes which affect my mood.

Reading this book has really got me thinking about my life, and making me appreciate it a lot more. It’s very well done, although I want to skip to the end to find out how everyone’s life turns out.

there are three kinds of people: those who love NYC and would live there, those who love NYC and wouldn't live there, and those who hate NYC. Now that you've been, which kind of person are you?

I am a person who loves NYC and can see how genius it would be to live there if I had a lot of money. I would want to live in a comfortable little townhouse and be able to send my kids to a nice school and take advantage of the cool stuff there is to do. I asked myself whether I would want my kids to go to NYU or Columbia and I got this little surge of fear, thinking that they could go, but I'd have to live with them in their dorm room to cook for them and do their laundry and impose a curfew.

Here's a really dumb question, though: How does one meet a love interest in the big city? Is it mostly through work and acquaintances? It seems with so much going on in the street--so many people moving so fast--one could not spot a cute guy/gal and strike up a conversation. Like I do that all the time in Oakland...

I started to cry in the shower this morning.

I had woken up at 5AM and then fallen back to sleep, then woke up at 6:30AM when my ex called. He wanted to tell me that he had forgotten to take my son to the pediatrician, on the morning my son starts preschool. I told him that our daughter told me and that I had taken care of it. I also blasted him, letting him know that this “really fucked me up.”

There is no satisfaction in blasting him. He’s just lame.

Then I made a pot of coffee and a bagel with butter and jam. My old coffee maker gave up the ghost–just stopped brewing after two years of very gentle use. My new coffee maker makes a pot of coffee in 5 minutes, compared with 16 minutes with the old one. Groovy.

I went upstairs and watched a bit of the Forsyte Saga, while eating breakfast and glancing at the latest issue of Vogue.

Then I got behind schedule and had to jump in the shower to meet my baby at his first day of preschool.

Thinking about the fact that this is the end of my relationship with the babysitter, and how wonderful she had been, made me cry. I am sending her flowers this afternoon with a note of gratitude.

I got out and got dressed and raced to the preschool. They were not there yet, so I handed in his forms and took a tour of the school. It’s such a nest. He is going to do so well.

Finally they arrived. My guy looked really shy, while I introduced him to the teachers and showed him his cubby and his blanket for nap time. The teachers broke the ice with toy dinosaurs. They exclaimed how much he looked like his sister, and I went from his first day of preschool to his first minutes after birth, when my sister joyfully stated the same thing.

He started to cry as it was time to leave, but he sat with a group of kids for a reading of A Snowy Day by Ezra Jack Keats. He’s a wonderful little guy and he’ll do well, but of course it pained my mother’s heart to kiss my boy in tears. He’s just nervous about the change. This is the next step in his life.

Correction About Day 2:

Before we headed to Queens we went to ABC Carpet and Home at 888 Broadway. This is the Taj Mahal of home furnishings, honey. It was lovely to walk the hallowed ground, but the prices were hair raising–$150 for a small silk pillow. We visited most of the floors, but I didn’t get as inspired as I expected. On the way to the subway, we walked through a Farmers Market in Union Square. Again, the parks are so lush this time of year. I have foliage envy.

Day 3

This was the biggest walking day of all. At the end of it, I lay on the bed with my shoes off and just stared at my pulsating feet.

I started with another bagel and coffee. We took the subway to Greenwich Village and walked through Soho. On Spring Street, we passed, Aero, Thomas O’Brien’s shop and I felt like a complete groupie. I adore his interior design. The shop didn’t open for another 90 minutes, but I wanted to go back and buy a little tchotcke, assuming that I could afford it. We didn’t go back, though. Next time.

We walked down Greene Street and looked at the shops, then to Washington Square Park and then past NYU. Next, we went to Chelsea and ate an oatmeal raisin cookie at Eleni and bought brownies at Fat Witch. We admired the flowers at the Chelsea Flower Mart and then walked through Chelsea to the subway station. The gardens were to die for...full of roses and peonies.

In Harlem we were immediately accosted by women offering hair braiding. I politely refused, thinking that it might be nice to get my hair braided but I didn’t want to spend the time. Harlem has a beautiful vibe. I bought FIRE a present, a Malcolm X clock, from a man on the street with the most mellow vibe, and we had lunch at Sylvia’s Restaurant on Lenox Avneue. Sylvia herself was there and I wished I had my cookbook for her to autograph. I had corn bread, fried chicken, yams and macaroni and cheese for lunch. My sister had corn bread, fried chicken, yams and greens. It was delicious and the service was excellent.

After lunch we walked over to the Schomberg Museum. Then my sister got a $10 wash and set, which took about one hour. It was fun to get off my feet and watch a telenovela while my sister sat under the dryer with big rollers in her hair. She was thrilled, correctly expecting that the curls would not last long. They lasted a block.

From Harlem we took the subway to Central Park West. We walked and looked and then walked across 82nd Street to get to the Metropolitan Museum of Art. Unfortunately it closes at 5:15 and we got there at 4:45, so we walked quickly though–I saw the Picasso portrait of Gertrude Stein, which is prominent in A Moveable Feast, which I’ve read at least 10 times.

We sat on the front steps–the rain had stopped--and watched a street performance, described by the performers as “black guys dancing.” It was pretty good.

Then we walked down to Penn Station and got another slice of pizza. I was pretty beat, so I went back to the hotel. My sister was not, so she headed for Times Square, in search of the perfect $5 bag. She found a tote she wanted, but the bag man wanted $20 and she was sure she could find it for cheaper. (She never did--a bird in the hand is worth two in the bush when it comes to shopping.)

Earlier in the day we visited St. Patrick’s Cathedral on Fifth Avenue, like the good Catholics we are...hee hee. We went in and crossed ourselves with holy water and admired the Gothic decor. I thanked God for allowing me to be in New York.

Back at the hotel, once my feet stopped pulsating, I took a shower and got in my jammies and read my tour book (the 2001 version checked out of the library). It has a very handy map.

Day 4

On our last day, I got a bagel with an egg and bacon. So much bacon. Folks place interesting orders, like a bagel with egg whites, bacon, cheese and ketchup. I ate half of it in Grand Central Station, because I did not want to eat such a thing on the subway.

Here’s the thing about the urine smell: the streets of downtown San Francisco are a lot more like a toilet than my experience of New York subways.

That being said, the subway was rather fragrant and not conducive to breakfast.

Some of the subway stations were as decrepit as I expected, but others were very nice.

True, BART and the Paris Metro are cleaner, but it was bearable.

We got the all day Metro card for $7 and headed for the Upper West Side because my sister wanted to buy her boyfriend some coffee from The Sensuous Bean. The proprietress was a lovely lady and she made my sister a nice gift bag while I took a quick stroll on Columbus Avenue. From the Upper West Side we took the subway to Ground Zero. Once we got there and looked into the big hole and read some of the names of those killed, I could only ponder the nature of the great evil that was perpetrated there.

We looked and pondered, then went across the street to Century 21 Department Store. I bought some earrings and bracelets. Then we walked and I ate the second half of my bagel, before we got on the subway and headed to Brooklyn.

We got off on Flatbush Avenue and looked at all the people enjoying the good weather, then went to Junior’s Restaurant. There I had the meatloaf and mashed potatoes and broccoli and carrots and the rolls. My sister had the barbecue platter. It was delicious and the service was excellent, but it was too much food to finish. Um, why do they put pickled beets on the table? Who eats pickled beets? We got to overhear a bona fide big mouth who intruded on a mother-daughter lunch to tell the room that his mother had been a dancer back in the 1920s, that he was 82 but didn't look it, yadda yadda. My sister got a slice of cheesecake to go (it cost $5.70–aiyah!!!). I read the tour book and tried to muster the energy to go and explore Brooklyn, the home of Chris and Ayun, but my sister was more interested in returning to Manhattan to get those last items that she had passed up, especially the elusive $5 bag and some tan mules.

I bought some shoes and a bag from Parade of Shoes. It’s a lovely store. I really, really wish they had one in California (I’d even fly to LA to shop there) and/or you could buy their products from their website. Is it too much to ask people? But then again, maybe it’s like living in proximity of a casino for some people (not me, I loathe gambling): all of my spare money (whatever that is) would be spent on shoes and bags.

At some point, my sister’s mood soured and she just wanted to get back to the hotel. We expected to get up at 4AM, so getting to bed at a reasonable hour was important.

We stopped at duane reade to get some traveling supplies (water, snacks) and then went back to the hotel.

I could have and should have gone out on my own, at least to go to look at the Morgan Library on East 36th Street, since I read about it in Ragtime by E.L. Doctorow and [dork alert] a couple J.P. Morgan biographies. Instead, I took another shower and read Amrita by Banana Yoshimoto.

Food

I wanted to eat a slice of pizza and a NYC bagel to see if they are the best. They are.
I also wanted to drink coffee out of a blue and white cup, with its Greek amphora and the legend “We Are Happy to Serve You,” like I’ve seen in so many movies filmed in NYC. I did that.
I am not a cheesecake eater, so that’s not an issue.
I’ve taste White Castle (never again).
I have had a bite of the beef patty with coco bread.
I have had soul food in Harlem.
My sister said that the hot dogs from the stands would give me the runs. I didn’t want any part of that, so I stayed away.

Next Time

I plan to return in October, inshallah.

I would love to see Hairspray. The half price ticket line at Times Square was off the hook this trip.

Magnolia Bakery
Explore Brooklyn, including Swallow
Museums: Metropolitan, Guggenheim, Whitney, Frick
More shopping, this time for Fall clothes–my favorite line.
Enjoy the architecture more. It’s such a treat to see so much legendary architecture.
Actually go inside Aero.

And so much more.

This post is going to change during the day, as I am able to write more and deal with my crammed voice mail and in-box.

I am in tears right now because I am so angry at my ex, but I’ll get to that.

Background

Like most people (I imagine) I’ve been interested in going to New York City for a very long time. Since I am not a dancer or writer or fashion designer, and since I spent my post-high school years laboring through college and law school on the West Coast, I didn’t get a chance to visit until now.

I had mythologized NYC, due in part to subscribing to Vogue magazine since I was 11, watching Manhattan at least 50 times, subscribing to New York magazine for 15 years, watching Sex and the City, and getting the Sunday New York Times (with Bill Cunningham’s amazing fashion photographs) delivered.

So taking a trip to Manhattan was understandably huge for me.

Jetblue

My sister and I flew Jetblue non-stop from OAK to JFK. It was $250 roundtrip. How can you beat that price? Eh? You can’t.

The only little drawback is that they do not feed you. Yes, you can have cranberry juice and cheese and crackers, but that’s it. So pack a lunch.

On the way back the computer system failed. It’s a good thing that we got to JFK at 5:15AM for a 7AM flight, even though the flight didn’t take off until 8:15AM due to increased security checks. No worries, a comfortable flight back.

My Sister/Our Lodgings

My younger sister (35) served in the Navy when she was 18, so she is eligible to stay at lodging for veterans and military personnel. It is in Murray Hill, at Lexington and West 37th Streets, in the heart of Manhattan, very near Fifth and Madison Avenues. It costs $30 a night. Thirty!

Understandably, my sister likes to visit NYC a lot and she always stays here. Our room was clean and comfortable and actually very attractively furnished, with the shower and bathroom down the hall. It was not crowded at all, there was free high speed internet access and it’s in the heart of everything.

My sister had one goal: to shop. Since this was my first trip, I went along with what she wanted, although she listened to my input and saw things (like Soho) that she never had seen on her previous (5 or so) trips. Because I was the novice, we went up to Queens, so that she could get a beef patty and coco bread. Um, I don’t need to go to Queens again, okay?

Day 1:

We arrived at JFK at around 3:30PM, got a cab into the city, checked into the hotel and hit the streets, umbrellas in hand. We walked to Penn Station and got a slice of pizza. It was delicious:. crisp and not too much cheese or sauce (which makes me gag).

Then we went to H & M (I bought accessories, no clothes) and Times Square. We tried to have dinner at the Soul Café, but there was a $10 cover charge for a “show” so we declined and just grabbed some substandard Japanese food (frozen vegetables on chicken donburi? No!) Then we pooped out, having been up since 4AM, and went back to the hotel and crashed.

Style:

On our way to Penn Station we crossed Madison Avenue. Having a Bill Cunningham moment, I spotted a woman carrying a Tod’s handbag and another woman carrying an Hermes Kelly Bag.

The fashion sense of the women of NYC is breathtaking.

Stating the obvious: the foundation of a great outfit is a great bag and great shoes. Not in the size 0 Carrie Bradshaw sense that you must have a team of stylists outfit you with the most expensive purses in the world and the most expensive shoes, but these women have great bags and matching shoes, and beautiful pedicures. Then they have a great blouse and a great skirt, which fits and looks well on them and harmonizes with the bag and the shoes. And great hair. And surprisingly little makeup.

I cannot imagine how the women walk around the streets of Manhattan in the gorgeous pumps and mules they were wearing. It is a mystery to me.

Seeing these women made me very self-conscious of my tourist/marathon shopping outfit of jeans, teeshirt and running shoes. Very.

One thing though: I have never seen a city where labels were more important; not even Paris. I am not the one to declare it, but I think Burberry is over folks. Enough with the plaid already.

Day 2

The first thing we did was get a bagel and coffee for me. My sister was on West Coast time and not hungry.

Sidenote: I felt self conscious eating in front of my sister, because she had a fat phobic vibe going on that made me uncomfortable. Sometimes fat phobia is disguised (poorly) as vocal self-consciousness about what one is eating and a loudly stated intention not to eat to much in order not to gain wait. That’s a fine intention, but when you project it to someone and make her uncomfortable...it’s not cool.

The bagel was divine. I was curious if the bagels and pizza really were better in NYC and they are, they are. And a bagel and a large coffee only cost $1.25.

I did not notice a lot of folks in Manhattan eating on the street, or eating while walking. Is it a cultural thing?

Then we walked. Grand Central Station, New York Public Library, Rockefeller Center.

At the Public Library I really had a sense of what a great city NYC is. The commitment to spend $9 million on a library in 1911 is the sign of greatness. And seeing the beautiful Solomon Reading Room, I got verklempt.

The greenery surrounding the library, especially the trees, was so lush. It’s actually hard to be back in the brown rolling hills of Northern California now, because I have such foliage envy, made worse by a trip to Chelsea where David Austin roses are in bloom in front yards.

We also went to Lord and Taylor, because I had seen some beaded necklaces in the Sunday New York Times about a month ago, but L & T doesn’t have a website where you can buy stuff. So we visited the store and I bought four of them. This made me very happy.

At some point we got on the subway and went to Queens.

Getting to Queens took a long time. Once we got out there, we stayed on the main strip. My sister got a beef patty and I tasted one White Castle hamburger–not so good. The folks were rougher in Queens and we saw some “security” guards beating up a shoplifter.

I bought my little dude a Spiderman shirt. He has not taken it off since I presented it to him on Saturday.

We returned from Queens and went shopping at more H & Ms, at the Macys at Herald Square, and at a Dollar Store on 42nd Street. I got my girl some Japanese stationary, which she is delighted with. I want to encourage her to write more, even if she does so with her opinion spelling. [At her school, they call it opinion spelling because they can spell words how they think they are spelled. My girl does a lot of that.]

I will post about Days 3 and 4 tomorrow.

Here is why I am pissed at my ex: I have to leave work early, on my first day back, because I have to take my son to the doctor.

I sent his father an e-mail two fucking weeks ago, telling him that he had to take my son to the doctor on June 5, because he has to get a TB test before he starts preschool on Wednesday.

I was sitting with my children yesterday evening at 7:30PM and I asked my girl how my boy's doctors appointment went. She said Oh, Daddy forgot about the appointment because he had so much work to do and by the time he remembered it was too late.

He didn't tell me this on Saturday when he dropped my kids off. Fucking coward.

I tried to call his ass--and Lord knows how much I hate talking to him--to find out whether he had made any alternative arrangements to get my son tested. My ex is a teacher, he knows this shit is essential. No answer on his home phone and no answering machine, no voicemail on his cell phone and no answer.

On top of that, my son's ass was as red as a baboon's. Why? Because his stupid fucking father did not wipe his ass properly. I asked my girl "Did you take a bath at your father's house?" They were there for six fucking days. You know what she said? She said "Yes. We took one bath." One.

So I get on the phone with the pediatrician this morning--you know how many calls a pediatrician gets on a Monday morning? When I finally get through, the receptionist tells me they don't have an opening until July. My son is supposed to start preschool this week, but they have to give him a complete physical on top of his TB test.

I was beyond pissed.

I called the Berkeley Free Clinic, because I know they do TB tests. No answer. Their main clientele is the homeless of Berkeley, but I was desperate.

Finally, I calmed down and called my sister the doctor. She does adult care and she has never administered health care to one of her relatives, but I just laid it out for her, that I wouldn't ask if I wasn't desperate, that my ex fucked me over with his boundless stupidity and incompetence, and my boy wasn't going to be able to start preschool if he doesn't have this test. She said to bring him in this afternoon and she would administer the test and sign off on it, that I could just make sure he didn't have a positive reaction.

I'm blogging in New York City!!!

I am having an amazing time. This is an incredible experience. Thank you all for your comments.

So much to tell. I'm in Murray Hill at Lexington and West 37th Street.

I will be home Saturday morning. That leaves today to see Ground Zero and then we're heading to Brooklyn.

Yesterday I must have walked 12 miles--Greenwich Village, Soho, Chelsea, Harlem, Central Park, Museum of Modern Art... Lots of time on the subway, too.

I have not seen the season finale of Six Feet Under, yet. I have taped it and I will watch it this evening, while I pack and try to get the house in order. I refuse to return home from vacation to a messy house, but there is only so much I can do--wash dishes, take out the garbage, fold and put away laundry, sweep, vacuum, change the sheets on my bed, recycle.

I don't have a fabulous pretravel list, the way j always does, (and I'm not going to be needing XL condoms and/or astroglide this trip [HAHAHAHA]), but I gotta pack:

clothes for 60 degree weather
clean underwear and lots of it
killer walking shoes
toothbrush/paste/floss
hair stuff
cell phone
credit cards
cash
something to read on the plane
my journal
digital camera
a big bag for all the great stuff I'm gonna get and bring back
a positive attitude so that my sister and I have a good time
breath mints
water
snacks

...something’s happening.

When I was in labor with my son I remember saying that when I hit transition, when big changes were occurring.

Friday was really great. FIRE and I did not go to Citizen Cake. He was in a funky mood, so I decided that rather than do what I wanted to do when his heart/head wasn’t in it, thereby insuring two people had a not so great time, we would just stay in the East Bay and go to Le Cheval for lunch. Garlic chicken and green beans have miraculous qualities on a person’s outlook. Afterward we..ah...spent time...at my house, then went to a few stores to pick stuff up. He also went with me to the bank so I could get an ENORMOUS cashier’s check to buy out my ex's community property interest in my house.

The refinancing is complete. I am getting a new roof. My ex is getting a lot of money, half of the increased value of the house.

I felt pretty fucked up about it, but it was ameliorated by spending time with FIRE at the same time. We talked about it, and I tried to look at it money for my children that I just happen to be handing to their father.

For dinner I cooked broccoli steamed with minced garlic and creole seasoning, teriyaki glazed ginger salmon, and Japanese rice.

After dinner, he sat in the kitchen talking to me and keeping me company while I washed the dinner dishes. He thinks I should get a dishwasher, but I don’t like the taste of the dishwasher residue. He also thinks the reason I don’t get a dishwasher is because my house is 100 years old and it is not in character with the house. Maybe I will, if I ever get my kitchen remodeled.

I was in the bathroom that evening and I came across my engagement ring, which I keep (for no good reason) in the medicine cabinet. I asked myself Okay, do you want to keep that cashier's check and put this ring back on? The idea was unfathomable and put the whole payout in context for me. I own my life and this is the price I pay.

We watched some Lord of the Rings, which FIRE has never seen, but it is a very long movie and there are other ways to spend an evening. He woke up and left at 4:30AM, because he works out before he goes to work.

Saturday morning my children came home and I gave their father the check. FIRE asked me later how it went, did my ex say “Thank you.” I told him that he didn’t even say the kind of thank you one (who is raised properly) says when one is handed anything, let alone the thank you one should say when one is handed many many thousands of dollars. FIRE observed that my ex should have gotten down on his knees and kissed my pedicure. Yeah, well.

What also made it palatable was a conversation I had with my neighbor before my ex arrived, about the selling price of homes in our neighborhood. In a way, given their value, I can view myself as coming out ahead. And my nosy ass neighbor on the other side let me know that I am getting an excellent roof. Hey, thanks.

And here is the best part: my ex told me that he is NOT taking my baby girl to Europe this summer after all. I tried to keep my reaction muted, but I am thrilled!!! I am glad he didn't tell her of his "plans", so that she is disappointed.

James came and paid me a visit, which is always lovely. It is hectic right now, organizing myself to travel to New York on Tuesday. But I am very excited.