Wednesday, September 30, 2009
Day 37: Coco
Tuesday, September 29, 2009
Day 36: Impression
Speaking of looks, it is ironic that some people don't have the looks that are expected of them. Sarkozy should be 6 ft tall, but he is about a foot shorter. I used to talk to someone all the time who has a great voice and a dashing name to go with it. The first time I saw him, I am ashamed to say I did a double take. In fact, now that I think of it, I recall more than a few incidents like this. This is the reason I don't watch movies of books I read. I form an impression of the characters and hate to see it destroyed. I suppose this is also why people don't see their high school sweethearts twenty years later.
Monday, September 28, 2009
Day 35: Uncorked
At the Friday event, my friend Dr. Jeannie presents. A total "F" student that I am, this is the fourth time I hear her talk about the topic, and still not get it. But hearing the same thing over and over again has its subtle effects. I find myself trying to be a better person that does not "yes, but" and go "hermit". I am trying to be the "good, good pig" that has a "yes, and" attitude. I have a go at it with my partners, and grade myself "B-" with room for improvement. But, at least I have started to uncork myself, which should result in no longer "bottling up and eventually exploding" (sage words from my daughter Aya).
Sunday, September 27, 2009
Day 34: Equilox?
I am invited to a baby shower for friends who are expecting twins. All the baby gifts remind me vaguely about my children when they were babies. I pick my baby up from a sleepover this morning, and her friend's mom looks at her children's baby photos and comments on how she misses that stage, but she was always so tired then to enjoy them. How true that is! I remember nights when I was heavily pregnant with one, and cradling another to sleep, while shedding puddles of tears from exhaustion. I also remember pretending not to hear the babies cry for milk, waiting for my husband to wake up, but usually giving up after 2 minutes. On one particular night, I "accidentally" kicked my husband in my sleep, and was relieved to see action take place. Those were the days of endurance, exhuberance and exhaustion. With the help of time, those days now invoke nostalgia. I hope my friends will love every moment of it.
Saturday, September 26, 2009
Day 33: Exhaustion
Several friends tell me I should read the book or watch the movie Julie & Julia, as there are parallels that can be drawn with my experience now. I wonder whether my friends draw the parallel in drinking lots of wine, but apparently it has to do with the pains, joys and learnings of starting something new with or without partners. I will have to read the book.
Day 32 ( a day late): Event
Thursday, September 24, 2009
Day 31: Shower
Then, I jump into my batmobile and drive north to Costco. For a big family with kids who eat more than Bengal tigers, Costco is "it". My batmobile struggles. Eventually, we make it back to paradise. I chat with my friend in Tokyo who slept 3 hours and 59 minutes. As we discuss the art of throwing plate after plate of spaghetti on the wall, my son calls for a ride home from violin. Hampered by the police car, hot on its trail for the ax murderer, I manage to swoop him (my son, not the murderer) up, rush to the market for zucchini and eggplants for my ratatouille, and then check the chicken in the oven, and call the tribe to the table. My son #3 has fallen by the wayside for the spelling bee contest. He did not spell "acetylene = a colorless, poisonous, highly flammable gaseous hydrocarbon" correctly. I also find that Aya's experiment at the creek last night failed as well. Julien kept on talking loudly while throwing pebbles into the water, and the birds flew away. I tackle this blog with "Sweet, Sweet Smile" (the Carpenters) in the background while my two babies sing with me. As you can see, there is no time for a shower. But, if my parents-in-law in Paris are tuning in, I know that my better half will come back with a bottle of Mademoiselle Coco (as in Chanel). Just in case, I take a shower tonight.
Wednesday, September 23, 2009
Day 30: Homicide
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
Day 29: Friends
This afternoon, my partners and I re-group for an extremely productive session. As it so happens, we are friends first, business partners secondarily. This brings the stakes higher. While I might be willing to part ways with business partners, I would hate to part ways with friends. As kinks develop, we iron them out as quickly as possible. It requires inordinate portions of compassion, intellect and integrity to do this. Great continuing education for a lifelong student. Afterall, I would much prefer friends celebrating my life when the time comes, than business acquaintances feeling obligated to attend.
Monday, September 21, 2009
Day 28: Guano
Asking for it is not a bad thing. Just as many good girls do, I used to think that the good in me would be recognized and rewarded. But I have learned that if you desire recognition and reward, it is best to just ask for it. There is not much harm done by asking. The worst that can happen is that they say "no".
Sunday, September 20, 2009
Day 27: Embodiment
Day 26: One dollar
Friday, September 18, 2009
Day 25: Convict
I zoom home, speak to Tokyo, write to Singapore, chat with California, and then call the court to 'fess up. The fine for running a stop sign is $261! I go online for another $19.99 to attend traffic school. Did you know that you should not pump the brakes while hydroplaning, if you have an antilock brake? I flunk the final exam by one question the first time, and ace it the second time around. Which reminds me of my naturalization test, which I also aced. A good portion of Americans believe that Jesus Christ was a president. At the end of traffic school, I get a certificate mailed to me, and then an offer for $3 if I get fellow convicts to attend the same traffic school. America, the beautiful! There is a saying in Japanese that goes something like this: Make money from a fall. Americans are great at this. When Madoff was all the rage, the WSJ quoted a former convict who set up a consulting firm to advise white collar convicts on how to get assigned to nice prisons. It's called prisonconsulting.com or something like that.
Today also marks the 21st anniversary of my failed first marriage. I have learned so much about myself since then. Using marriage as an escape hatch never works. It'll come to haunt you eventually. But, from failure, also comes gifts. Without the experience, I would not have my wonderful, exceptionally wise 19-year-old son to love and brag about. Happiness and despair are intertwined. You just have to make sure that happiness comes out the winner.
Thursday, September 17, 2009
Day 24- part 2: Comfort Food
For lunch, I make my mom's recipe and substitute Seven Up with Savignon Blanc. Immediately, I feel so much better. I skip up the stairs, roll into bed with a book in hand, and promptly fall asleep. I wake in the afternoon as my daughter hollers, "Mommy, are you home?" Just for safe measure, I stay in bed for another 30 minutes and then go downstairs. My nose is now almost functioning. I can smell things. I have a friend who smells diseases, and I am pretty sure I am down to "yellow" on her alert system. I wonder if I would have recovered so quickly on cold pizza....
Day 24: OK, one at a time!
Which makes me quite schizophrenic at times. This morning, I am talking to a friend in Tokyo, when my son comes to me for a ride to the bus stop so his green onion plant doesn't get damaged. I rush back home, load the dishwasher and boil water for my tea, while dragging the vacuum cleaner out, and blowing my nose. The phone rings again. This time, it is my husband calling from Lugano. I chat while responding to emails about my insurance and China, and traveling to Paris and education and rollover IRA and AGHHHHH! "OK", I tell myself. "One at a time."
Most people who meet me think I am a very calm person (which still surprises me). Yesterday, I put the oven on "self-clean" and then forget about it, until the alarm goes off at ear-piercing pitch. I run circles around my house visualizing the sprinkler going off, and then what am I going to do?! Charlie looks puzzled as he follows me around. Finally, I get the thing to stop.
I remember a long time ago, getting a call from a friend who was staying at my house in France. The alarm had gone off - I could hear it in the background as she calls urgently pleading for the code to stop it from shrieking. As I wonder aloud whether the code was this or that, my usually polite friend yells into my left ear from thousands of miles away, "GET YOUR HUSBAND ON THE PHONE!" My basic instinct yesterday was also to get my husband on the phone. But what can he do from Switzerland? I reason through my panic. I boldly step up to the alarm plate, punch in the code (which I remember), and then call the alarm company to tell them it's OK, and please don't set the sprinkler on. I hear my voice verge on hysteria, but I persevere. Such are the adventures you are missing out on, sitting in your cubicles at work as you read this. Next time you see me, I may not look as calm as before, but I'll certainly be stronger.
Day 23: Nose
Yesterday morning (I am writing a day late), I woke up with a heavy head, and immediately try to recall how many glasses of wine I had the night before. By 9 in the morning, I realize that this is not a hangover, but a good old cold. All day, I sniffle around. I work on a presentation with a box of tissues next to my keyboard. I look at Charlie, who is now constantly at my side, like a faithful shadow. When he sniffs, his whole nose twitches in the most interesting manner. I figure his nose is an inside out version of human noses. I sure hope I won't have to see him when he has a nose cold.
I once met a nose. A nose is a professional who blends scents together to make perfumes. Noses must be careful not to catch a cold. I once knew a pianist who would not do any housekeeping, so as not to injure to her hands. All the different professions that exist today! I wonder if there is a profession that requires you not to work so as not to overwork your brain.
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
Day 22: What happened to your face?
Today was an efficient day. The day started out very well. I had to make it down the hill before the town closed down the only road that leads to civilation for repaving. I swam my laps downhill, went to the library to read about how Wall Street better come to terms with the new reality. After filling my car up and running a few errands that all moms have to run, I hop into a Prius to head to Palo Alto. Six grown women with enough degrees combined to cause indigestion enjoy a fun-filled lunch and then move on for a foot massage, from which we emerge with major bed head and tranquility. On the way back, I continue my philosophical conversation with my soul mate. We debate whether musicians are skilled workers, while painters are intellectuals. Today's ultimate question is: If you knew you would not be here (as in, alive on planet Earth) for long, what are the three things you would wish for your loved ones to have. As I pontificate, I freeze mid-sentence. I lose my train of thought. My friend looks sympathetic in between yawns and getting us killed weaving erratically through traffic. My friend, the gorgeous tells me, "One day I was me, the next day I was middle-aged.". I beg to differ. One day I was me, today I am still me, only less self-conscious.
I arrive home and start cooking my wonder meal for the family- believe it or not, I am actually pretty good at cooking. My son #3 comes to the kitchen to chat with me. All my intellectual conversations and sophistication drain. I feel my heart skip a beat. My baby looks just like Quasimodo! Allegedly, a kid (I KNOW WHO YOU ARE) jumped on Maxime "by accident", at which point, my poor son's right side of the face met the asphalt and voila! I am now all Asura and engulfed in rage. All his siblings file into the dining room and I hear, "What happened to your face?!", one after another. Just for fun, I take a mug shot of him. I am known for my high tolerance for outrageousness. However, I must make it clear that I am a sorceress in training, and there are consequences for pouncing on a sorceress' son.
Monday, September 14, 2009
Day 21: Fishface
I am reading an interesting book on intuition. Female intuition, gut feeling, you name it, I am loaded with it. When I think back to people I have known over the years, my first impression usually turns out right. Despite reasonable and rational thinking to modify first impressions, a good person ends up being good, a strange person ends up being strange, a selfish person ends up being selfish, and a rude person ends up proving to be rude.
Which reminds me of a story called "Rude Rabbit". Rude Rabbit liked a rabbit called Honey Bun. He tells her " Give me a kiss, Honey Bun.", and is promptly dismissed. He calls out to someone over the fence, "Oy, fishface!" The lesson of the story is that Rude Rabbit learns the hard way that he must be polite to be liked. Today, I discover that a neighbor has been very impolite. I see her over the fence as I walk Charlie and later think I should have hollered "OY, FISHFACE!" But since I have been to Rude Rabbit's Rudeness Roadshow, my intuition tells me the compliment will be wasted.
Sunday, September 13, 2009
Day 20:Smell
Smell is an interesting sense. It can bring back vivid memories. A little whiff can send you back to heaven or hell. I haven't smelled despair in 16 years now, and hope never to smell it again. It's the will to prevent this smell from returning, that has spurred me on all these years.
Saturday, September 12, 2009
Day 19: Blackmail
The afternoon rolls by, and I go to a yoga class with my daughter. The teacher is sad, as she is told that her class will end due to budget cuts. She tears up, which tells me she really likes teaching (or is she afraid of the financial strain?). Aya and I are not the gushing type. We leave tearless, and in considerable physical pain.
In the evening, my friend stops by with her husband and two adorable babies. My babies, are amused with the little ones. I am bemused at how quickly my children have grown. I remember in detail, the days they were born, each and every one. Which makes me wonder....
My friend who reads natal charts asks me every 15 years about my birth time. Every time, I ask my mother. She doesn't remember, although last time I pressed, she "believes I was born in the morning". I wonder how she cannot remember. Is it because it was too traumatic? Unfortunately, my relationship with my parents is extremely traditional. I don't talk about feelings with them. They are my parents and therefore, it is inappropriate to discuss feelings.
I am the exact opposite with my children. When they hurt my feelings, I cry. When they are inconsiderate, I bash them over the head with a truckload of anger. When they are brilliant, I hope I am the first to tell them so. Afterall, they are the future. They are my passion. And, like it or not, I have a LOT OF INFORMATION about them that they wouldn't want made public.
Friday, September 11, 2009
Day 18: The Good, Good Pig
Thursday, September 10, 2009
Day 17: 80/20
Much as I would like to find myself lounging in my sunlit parlor, sipping my flute of mimosa, listening to Chopin and doing close to nothing while raking in millions, this is not yet the case. I have been working on various business ideas with friends from all over the world. My productive work hours have skyrocketed. I have even started sleeping less! This is the biggest sacrifice for me. I don't watch TV. For me, sleep is my entertainment. A well respected medical doctor wrote a book on how the left brain inhibits the right brain from intuitively knowing many things. When I dream, there is no inhibition. I am impressed with my French, my maths, my story plots, my business finesse, and my musical talent. For me to forgo my entertainment is a major sacrifice. I aspire to be like Charlie one day. 80% of the work done with 20% of effort.
Wednesday, September 9, 2009
Day 16: Technology
Technology is great when it works, but is as close to hell as I can imagine when it doesn't. This morning, I spend hours - my VOIP phone doesn't work, internet doesn't work - thank goodness for Blackberry, which has never failed me. I struggle with Comcast to no avail. But, I will not let this ruin my day. Today is 09/09/09 - lucky extreme!
I jump into my batmobile and head over the Golden Gate Bridge to see my friend. Trauma is evident, as I move back into the slow lane after spotting a police car, which turns out to be a Subaru-whatever-hatch-back-with-ski-racks-on-top. I curse the driver for generations to come, and immediately feel much better. An academic article says there is proof that cursing while in pain helps. I feel that the same is true with anger.
At 5 o'clock, I find myself in a middle school auditorium, listening to someone preach about techonology and social wellbeing. My daughter is getting a laptop! Such advance, such privilege. This is truly marvelous. My children are fortunate to have such an innovative environment, I muse while reading my emails on my Blackberry. Then the fun starts. I know the drill. I have done this many times before. I tell my daughter to dash to the front of the gym to snatch the laptop and be done with it. Sweet, innocent child - she dashes, but returns to retrieve her mother (who is thinking about deja vu, Chablis and things like that) , at which point, she loses her spot and ends up being the fourth from last to receive her coveted laptop. I wonder why, in this age of technology, we do not have a more efficient system, in which we and our offsprings are not forced to exhibit our basic instincts of competing for who gets there first.
Speaking of getting there first, Mikimoto (as in Mikomoto pearls) has an annual sale for patrons. One of my friends has purchased a barge full of pearls from Mikimoto. Going to the store in Manhattan with her, is the closest I have felt to royalty. The annual BIG sale, to which I have been only once, is all about getting there first. One year, I meet up with warriors from the sale in a wine bar. The warriors display their conquests, exchange war stories, barter goods in good humor, while frightened waiters come to refill our glasses. This is passion in its purest form.
Tuesday, September 8, 2009
Day 15: Give to get
I philosophize while twisting myself into interesting shapes. Giving only works if someone is there to receive. I think back to when I was a junior most on a trading desk. At the beginning, I gave into a void. I floundered. I didn't know what I didn't know. Then, one day, I had someone who caught the ball I threw. So much fun! The ball went back and forth for years, until one day, it didn't. This hurt.
But that's life. You can always pick up another ball and start throwing until somebody starts catching it for you. If you don't give, you won't get. "It's the heart afraid of breaking, that never learns to dance."
Monday, September 7, 2009
Day 14: Pushing the envelope
While working my way up the career highway in New York, I had three babies. I was desperate not to be seen as being on the "mommy track". I gained 35% of my normal weight each time and looked like a melon, ate super-sized MacMeals, but pretended nothing was out of the ordinary. I marvel at my colleagues' ability to go with the flow - oh, she's just very, very hungry...
I don't know the right answer for re-shaping society. All I know is that it's not easy either way.
Sunday, September 6, 2009
Day 13: Tutankhamun
I too, have encountered women who don a masculine persona in the work place, and have never figured out how they manage to reconcile it within themselves. As the beautiful Swedish yoga teacher this morning says, "You must not sell your soul." I for one, am perfectly happy being myself. My shoulder-padded suits from the '80s are now as ancient and gone as Hatty herself.
A long time ago, I worked on a trading floor with 200 men and 10 women - of the women, half were extremely young and beautiful, and the other half were neither, but had wonderful brains. One of my brainy women colleagues forgot her medicine one day and asked whether anyone had Prozac to spare. The number of hands that shot up in the air to offer a tablet was impressive. My yoga session this morning reminded me of this incident.
Saturday, September 5, 2009
Day 12: Sniff
Speaking of over-achievers, I was not one until I turned 13. By the time I finished elementary school, I had been to 6 different schools in 3 different countries. It is safe to assume that I was confused. However, my mother was not one to be distracted by confusion. She made me take half a dozen entrance exams for private middle schools. Given that I barely understood what language the exams were given in, and that I was an extremely laid back kid, it is only reasonable to expect that I flunked them all.
The last one I flunked, my mom got mad at my apparent nonchalance. I guess that's what moms are for. From age 13 to the present 21+, I have been an uber-over-achiever. But, I lay my sword down. Life is too short and sweet to overdo things. As my poetic friend writes, some of us have "wasted our best years working like hell, riding on the career highway without taking the time to look at the landscape along the way." Now, I feel like sniffing the roses while Charlie sniffs at something less agreeable.
Friday, September 4, 2009
Day 11: Martians
In between answering to Billy Joel look-alike dumbed-down-twice cops, and paying bills, I have had a wonderful time chatting with friends from all corners of the world. And as the old adage goes, "A friend in need is a friend indeed." Now that I am stripped of all titles and obvious merits to them, the friends that take time out of their busy days to write to me and to call me, and to have lunches and dinners with me, are truly gifts to me.
Now, as a token of appreciation, gratitude and love, I bow to you with my left calf over my head, and my right leg suspended at 90 degrees from my third eye, in a sincere sign of serenity....and, if i don't write tomorrow, please send the cops to check on me. Namaste!
Day 10: Henry Higgins
I recently bought a DVD of My Fair Lady. I suppose I have grown. When I was a girl, I was in awe of Henry Higgins, and all that he represented. Now, I find him slightly repelling and rather seedy. My favorite song is no longer "The Rain in Spain Falls Mostly in the Plain." Instead, it is the one that Eliza Dolittle's good-for-nothing father sings - "With a little bit of blooming luck..."
Wednesday, September 2, 2009
Day 9: It's Okay
Today, I also splurge on a brand new little black notebook, to record what I do everyday for my new business lines. My little black notebooks have been my partner in crime for years. I sure hope this little black notebook does not end up being form over substance.