Kimchi

Sorry there was no post Tuesday, I fell asleep. Travel be being arduous. Usually I have some posts saved to publish at a later time, but I’m all out.

So I was sitting at a bar while waiting for my flight the other night, and I was lucky enough to sit near a strange man waiting for his Tinder date to show up. He made a big deal out of it to the bartender, announcing that “I’m meeting someone,” and that “she should be here any minute,” and that “I’ll bet she’ll have a martini.”

There was great fanfare when she showed up. She was very plain, and just as strange as her male companion, but they were very excited to be in each other’s company. His banter was cringe-worthy, and he ran out of game by approximately 5:46 p.m. I know this for a fact because when the silence hit, I texted it to myself so I wouldn’t forget.

I’m not trying to be mean spirited. We all have to do what we can now to meet people, but I have never heard a man work so hard to impress a woman as this man did.

He spoke of where he docks his yacht. His investment portfolio. The fact that his friend has three cars, two motorcycles, and “100k” in the bank. He literally said, “he got 100k in the bank.” After laughing off to the side so he wouldn’t see me, I could only assume he is not aware of the current state of inflation. Or the condition of the stock market. Or the value of the dollar. And while I’m not turning my nose up to “100k” (far from it!) any man trying to impress a woman might want to choose a number bigger than 100k.

I found the whole interaction sad, to be frank. Just what men and women have to do to get together now. I’ve written about it before. That woman sat there for over an hour, while this man just…vomited his sad game all over her. She never stood a chance, and I don’t think I ever heard her say one word.

I wonder if he got a second date. When I left, they were ordering kimchi. I think his chances were slim.

Dead Men Tell No Tales

In last week’s blog, I mentioned a Pirate Ball I will be attending this coming weekend in Tampa, and a former teaching colleague, from the first school I ever taught in, texted me:

(Ya gotta admire someone who puts up with me for three decades…)

“A Pirate Ball? You’re attending a Pirate Ball? You’re telling me you’re dressing thematically? For a ball? I don’t believe it.”

Well, blow me down. She got me thinking, and I arrived at my answer.

“No,” I texted her. “I’m not.”

This old friend knows I don’t dress thematically. I don’t wear ugly Christmas sweaters, or green on St. Patrick’s Day, or red, white and blue on Fourth of July. And it’s not because I take myself too seriously, it’s just that when you dress thematically, your personality has to match the theme, not just your clothes.

I don’t feel like saying “Avast ye hearties” all night. Or wearing a Jack Sparrow wig. Or laughing every time someone asks me if I’m enjoying my grog. Just the thought of acting like a pirate girl all night exhausts me.

But I have this sneaking suspicion that I should. That I should go all out with an outfit and just throw myself into the silliness with everyone else, instead of sitting stuffily in a corner with a martini, like a boring elitist.

The thought terrifies me as an introvert. The act of throwing myself into a situation so fraught with potential joviality and vulnerability as a Pirate Ball. But I feel like I have to abandon my inhibitions before I’m too old to have any left. I’m an old salt, but maybe it’s time to bring a spring upon ‘er.

Blimey. Time to weigh anchor and hoist the mizzen.

Hear Ye:

Just some announcements:

My toenail finally fell off! I sent my boys a picture of it in a group text, thinking they’d be happy for me, but they were not amused. It grossed them out, actually. Sorry, boys. Anyway, it’s pedicure time! Thank you for all of your prayers and thoughts that I never received.

I’m on spring break next week, and I sorta-kinda-wanna take the week off from blogging since I’ll be busy presenting, sunning, drinking, and dancing up a storm at our end of conference Pirate Ball. Avast ye mateys! But blogging from Tampa might be fun, so thanks in advance for checking in next week.

TED has named and announced my talk. Embedding didn’t work, so here is link:

https://www.linkedin.com/posts/tedxgrandcanyonuniversity_ted-tedtalk-tedtalks-activity-6907054819496869888-2oNf

If you actually click on it, you will see me looking kind of goofy in a full-body picture. In the photo shoot I was leaning against a wall, a wall that you unfortunately can’t see, so it looks like I’m vertically askew. The photographer told me to look serious, but I think it looks like I am trying to pass a kidney stone. Please don’t zoom in, the closer you get the goofier I look. Nevertheless, check it out if you’re interested. It’s the second biggest thing that has ever happened in my career. There’s just no way to overestimate the hugeness of this opportunity. Now I just have to decide what to wear. I’m thinking jade green.

Later friends.

Drive-Through

Just a little bit of me being me:

Pulls into drive-through lane at bank. Requests and then sends canister for deposit slip. Canister returns. Forgot to ask for pen. Sends canister again. Canister returns with pen. Signs checks, drops pen between car seats. Pulls mechanical seat up and back to find the pen in the netherworld between seat and console. Can feel teller staring at me, and am fully aware of the spectacle I am creating. Finds pen, finishes filling out slip. Sends canister for third time. Canister returns. Successfully removes envelope of cash from canister. Replaces canister, misses slot, canister drops on the concrete. Tries to open car door to get out and retrieve canister, but car is pulled too close to the tube to open door. Puts car in “drive,” and moves up slowly. Hears cracking and splintering. Rolls eyes, and says, “FUCK!” Gets out of car, and retrieves now useless bank canister. Waves apologetically at truck in line behind me, and makes mental note that he is not amused. Apologizes to laughing teller on the screen, and sends canister back to him just as he is saying, “No, don’t send it back, it won’t send in that condition…” Apologizes again as canister gets stuck in tube. Happy that teller manages to send it back to me again. Agrees to bring the canister into the bank. Drives around block to the entrance, and hands canister to confused bank manager. Hears two drive-through tellers laughing, as one says to the other: “That’s the funniest thing I’ve ever seen.” Happy to be of service.

Every word true.

Thairapy

I’m not one for small talk, if you haven’t noticed.

I am what you would call an outgoing introvert. Outgoing introverts enjoy people and travel and events, but when we’re done, we’re done. There comes a point during any trip or gathering where we have to just leave in order to recharge. Sometimes there’s no warning. All of a sudden, you look up and we’re just…gone.

I used to leave my own dinner parties. No lie. Ask anyone who attended. One minute I would be there drinking a glass of wine and laughing at a story, the next minute I was upstairs reading to my little boys in their cushy blue beanbag chair or cuddling with the dog, just to get away from the anecdotes, inquiries and mindless chit chat.

We can only take so much.

I don’t talk much, not even in the classroom. I choose my words carefully and deliberately, and if I don’t have anything to say, my mouth stays closed. That is, unless there’s something delicious to wrap it around.

(I meant like an ice-cream cone, what did you think I meant? Sheesh. Don’t get me started, now).

Which is why it is so surprising to me how much I confessed to my hairdresser yesterday.

My hairdresser knows nothing about me. That is why I chose her, and why I continue to go to her. She is not reading this blog right now. She doesn’t recognize my last name. She lives in the city and cares very little about the shore. She doesn’t know anyone in my family, and always forgets how many kids I have and how old they are. I love reminding her every time she apologizes for forgetting.

So it’s a safe zone for me where there is no judgement, no frame of reference, no opinion, no preferential treatment. She does my hair, I tip her, and that’s it. My affinity for this type of relationship, one in which each party has a level playing field, is probably the same reason I make such close friends when I travel. Because I am able to open up and be myself, without anyone’s preconceived notions of who I am, what I’ve done, or who I’m related to.

I’m at my best when traveling alone. My absolute best.

I confided in Michelle yesterday, things that if I confided them to anyone else, they would no longer be a secret today. It is what it is. But it felt good to get a few things off my chest, knowing it would go no further than her work station. I’m sure it wasn’t even interesting enough for her to gab to her young husband and one-year old daughter over dinner.  

But I appreciate her pretending like it was. There is no better therapy than sitting in your stylist’s chair.

Exit Strategy

Instead of tapping on her Gymshark workout app, Mary mistakenly taps on the Xfinity app, which she has never once used.

Xfinity bot: Hi! Nice to see you here! How can we help you today?

Mary types: Sorry, I opened this by mistake. Nothing, thanks.

Mary starts her workout. Her phone pings.

Xfinity: We see that you tried to login! Can we help you?

Mary types: No. It was a mistake, I am not trying to login.

Continues her workout. Ping.

Xfinity: Did you want to see your bill? Download our monthly deals? Speak to a customer care representative?

Mary: No!

Ping.

Xfinity: Is it something we did? How can we correct the situation? Your satisfaction is our number one priority.

Mary: Fuck off! I don’t need to use this app! I’m trying to work out!

Ping.

Xfinity: Your login attempt was unsuccessful. Your account is now locked until you call customer care.

Mary: (Deletes app from phone and feels vindicated)

Ping.

Xfinity email: We see you deleted our app. Can we help you this way?

Mary: OMG, NO!

Brrriiinnnnggggg.

Xfinity on phone: “This is a recorded message from Xfinity”:

“Mary Oves, thank you for contacting customer service. Your wait time to speak to a representative is three minutes. Would you like a call back to this number?”

Mary: Presses two for “NO!”

Brrriiiiinnnngggg.

Xfinity: But why?

Mary: You’re way too needy. (Blocks calls)

Xfinity:

Mary three days later has to pay her Comcast bill:

Xfinity: Your account is locked indefinitely. We always win.

Ships A-Hoy

It’s nautical sweater season.

I love nautical sweaters, and fashion houses start showing them in their spring lines for spring break travelers. Nautical sweaters are jaunty and warm and versatile, and every time I think I have found the perfect one, I see one I like better. I have one I nabbed at a Nordstrom sale for practically nothing, sitting at the ready on my shelf to go to Tampa. It’s the perfect tunic-length to use as a cover-up at the pool bar, which is where you will find me when I’m not in workshops.

Here are my favorite ten out right now:

Breton from Saint James ($275). Yeah, I wouldn’t pay that either. I’m just saying that the nautical Breton shirt is the one-and-only classic nautical sweater. Some women refuse to acknowledge any other brand. So I wanted to offer it up. On to more reasonable prices:

Vineyard Vines (73.99). Hurry, this is on sale, and won’t last long. But don’t worry, that little pink whale always has something stinking cute to offer in the nautical sweater category. This one is the stinking cutest.

Garnet Hill ($139). I’m in love. I want it. But the one going with me to Tampa is extremely similar to this one, so watch me exercise some self-control. What little I have of it, that is. I love the wispy lightness of this, and the hood, and the thin stripes, and the four jaunty colors, and the….oh my.

Gap ($59.95). A different spin here. This light sweater has a deep-V neckline, and is meant to be worn slouchy. Super cute and super affordable.

Etsy ($38). When’s the last time you browsed around Etsy? They have so much good stuff, and this nautical jumper is a good example. Fits big, L and XL.

Amazon (34.99). This Nautica sweater actually has an anchor on the front. Cute!

Macy’s ($89.50). Lauren Ralph Lauren. Classic, elegant, and sleek. More for dinner at the yacht club with a soft pencil skirt than for boat drinks.

Banana Republic ($70.99). Fine, I just ordered this, but let me explain. With my Gap points and my Athleta rewards, this sweater just cost me $20. I love my sweaters bulky, so I got this in a large. Hurry, they won’t last long. The mock neck is to die-for, and this modern mariner soft sweater draws inspiration from the traditional fishermen styles of Breton, made modern with a ribbed-knit stitch, wide-cut sleeves. Just yum.

J. Jill ($54.99). Another great sale and there are plenty of sizes. I love the asymmetrical stripes, and the longer silhouette. The textured pullover is knit with yarn-dyed stripes that are finer at the hemline and cuffs to create a color-blocked border for an update to the classic nautical style. It’s an easy-to-wear style that looks great with white pants. Really really sharp.

And finally:

River Island ($86). Fluffy. Snuggley. Cuddley. Oh man, I want it so bad. Half-zip, oversized, oh Bubba nooooooooo……if you buy it, let me know what you think. River Island is always dependable and classy. This is a truly beautiful sweater, and if you buy it, I’m already jealous.

News

April 8, 2022

One of the biggest honors of my life, and coming up in four weeks. Maybe I’ll see you in Phoenix, and have a great weekend.

Mouvement

I went to get down on the ground to put some laundry in the machine, when suddenly I paused.

I actually paused.

Please note that I don’t necessarily HAVE to get down on the ground to load the washer. It’s just easier, and I can balance the load better at eye level. But this is not the point.

The pause is the point.

You ever get a flash, just a quick flash, of your future? Like you catch yourself going around potholes to save your car tires, or you realize you’re driving too slowly? Or you hear yourself tell your kids “We have food at home”? Or when getting dressed for work, instead of grabbing your classy stilettos, you opt for a comfortable wedge?

That pause was like that. Because a fleeting thought passed through my membrane, something along the lines of:

One day I won’t be able to get down there, because I’d never be able to get back up.

Now, I’m fit. I know, God willing, that those days are far away, and nothing to concern myself with yet. But the distance between my body and the floor gave me reason to pause at how lucky I am to be able to get down there easily, and pop back up.

So let’s enjoy it while we can, fam. Let’s fling ourselves around at the gym, in the pool or the ocean. Let’s ride our bikes through puddles, and then lift up our legs. Let’s get down on the ground with the baby or the dog, feel the joy and release of moving our bodies, and feel grateful that we are able to.

It is truly a gift.

Broked

Go right now to your family junk drawer and make a mental note of what’s in there. Here’s some stuff in mine:

Paddleball ball. Playing cards. Back scratcher. Jar opener. Glue stick. Lego figurines. Titleist. White board eraser. Letter opener. Gratitude rock. Dog ball. Pinnacle. About ten pairs of scissors, twenty Sharpies and a million rubber bands.

Everyone has that junk drawer. But I can take it one step further. I not only have a generic junk drawer, but I have a broken junk drawer. You heard me right. When something breaks, I assess the cost and benefit of getting it fixed, and if the cost outweighs the inconvenience, I throw the piece into the broken junk drawer.

Here are some items in it:

  • Glass doorknob bulbs. The glass doorknobs we put on some of our cabinet doors weren’t all glass- they were just glass-tipped. They all kind of started falling off at once, and no glue we used made them stick back on. There are six in the drawer.
  • Dishwasher cover plate. This broke off of our brand-new dishwasher the second day they installed it. It doesn’t impede the operation of the machine, it just makes the buttons look strange. Like looking down into the inner-workings of a robot or cell phone.
  • A microwave screen. The right one fell off, the left is still intact. Every once in a while I make a half-hearted effort to click it back in, but it doesn’t seem to want to go. It’s on my To-Do list for summer.
  • Various refrigerator parts. Stuff just falls off in the refrigerator. A rubber tubing around the ice dispenser. A part off of the produce drawer. A shelf divider. Also on my summer list.
  • A little compartment door from the back of the television
  • The battery compartment lid from the remote
  • Various dishwasher compartment separators
  • Some part of the dryer whose function remains a mystery, because the dryer works fine.

For now.