2011

So, the year is coming to an end, even though I feel that summer was just the other day. The last entry was a long time ago. IN A PINCH has grown into a big group of very nice neighbors sharing tips on how to get candle wax out of one's table cloths, and information on local concerts.

This year, I have reinvented myself as a CFO-for-rent, and have I have met quite a few interesting people. While it is hard to figure out people and businesses, I use my intuition to separate the gems from the pebbles. We'll see how well this scientific method works.

Switching topics, I have found that the word "massage" draws crowds. Thanks to the $25 one-hour massage in Palo Alto, I have seen so many friends this year. It is great to catch up with classmates from (almost) 20 years ago over massage and lunch. Time warps exist for sure, as it feels like "we haven't changed at all". Curiously, as I visit the campus, all the students look like my kids. I can only hope they don't see me and think that I look like their moms.

In a Pinch

My last blog entry was about neighbors connecting. Since then, we have created a social community through the use of a group email called IN A PINCH. Neighbors have looked for doll house materials, bridge partners, where to source shoe boxes, goat-sitters, sewing machines...you name it. It's interesting to see how much knowledge is stored in people's brains that can be shared effortlessly with the right medium.

Why I am up at 2:30 am is another story. Remember how this blog started? I had a dream about 5 years ago: the "dream me" was having so much fun working on things she liked, that she couldn't wait to jump out of bed to start her day. Well, the real me kind of caught up, and I find myself juggling a dozen business ideas. Now, if only the "raking in so much money" part would hurry up and catch on...

Don't worry...I haven't been up all night. Starting last morning with my son rushing out the door to school commenting that someone had left their lunch on the entrance table (turns out it was him), the day was a wrrrrr... Coffee in the neighboring village, pulling up for lunch at the WRONG museum and dashing to the right museum, catching up with friends with 14-months-old twins (cute!!! but boy am I glad that my kids are older..so much work), tea with another friend, conference calls, cooking dinner, talking to the dentist about my youngest's "fuzzy" unbrushed teeth, and on and on it goes. At 7:30, there I was, a rag doll with no steam. So, I dragged myself off to bed, and find myself awake in the middle of the night. Charlie is looking slightly annoyed that someone is keeping him from his beauty sleep, but I think he will survive. I wonder is all dogs sleep 20 hours a day.

Villagers

Today is Martin Luther King Jr.'s day. He had a dream, and so do I. My dream is to have a kind village where ever you are. This morning, I hop into my batmobile for a quick swim at the pool, before dashing over to discuss a concept with fellow villagers. The concept is simple. Help fellow villagers when you can how you can.

Having lived in a country for a couple of decades, where most 15-year-olds are taller than I am, in affluent neighborhoods where some people assume I am the nanny (and what's wrong with nannies? My kids wouldn't be who they are without the help of wonderful nannies), I am surprised at the prejudices and presumptions that trap people into isolation.

This morning, I chatted with a friend who tells me she stopped going to the local park with her grandchildren, because the younger moms (who all look like Barbie) turned their backs to her when she was chatting with them. She felt rejected because she was too old. Just because you don't wear a blonde pony tail and wear size 2 designer jeans, doesn't mean you're worthless for goodness' sake!

Beating the odds

My husband has a strange race going with time, especially when it comes to catching a plane. I arrive at the airport 2 and a half hours before a flight, and relax with a book in hand, basking in the satisfying reassurance of having a seat number attached to my ticket. My husband, thrives on the adrenalin rush that accompanies not knowing whether he'll miss his flight or not. When we travel together, he matches my style, as there is much to pay for if he doesn't. Tonight he is on his own. I offer to deposit him at the airport. He has ambitious plans of swimming some laps, going to his office, and visiting a neighbor who has just had hip surgery before hopping on the plane - all within 2 hours before schedule take off. The drive down to SFO is a nail-biting, lip-biting trip. "You are going to miss the flight", I almost say. But, experience has made him good at this race. He beats his record sprint to the check-in counter, while I wait at the curb in case he fails. As a police car aims a light beam at me to move on, my phone rings. "I'm on! See you soon."

I wave to the police officer and head home, stopping by to pick up milk, eggs, and jam on the way. My remote oven, aka daughter, has the chicken roasting with mushrooms and carrots. We sit down for dinner, my daughter in her father's seat, imitating his love/hate relationship with cheese. Something tells me her father's hope of losing weight on this trip will not be answered. Switzerland and France are not exactly cheese-free, after all.

Happy New Year!

It's a new year and a new decade, a new start with lots of "1"s in front. Despite the drizzle this morning of 1/1/11, I take a plunge in the pool for my first few laps of the year, and feel mighty proud. As I see the raindrops hit the surface from below, there is a sense of calm that surrounds me. This year is going to be a good one. I know this because everyone I meet says so. Attitude is everything. When everyone says it's going to be good, well... it's going to be good.

As we visit friends and neighbors this evening, I hear the best line of the year. I don't know if you know, but I live in Marin County which is rumored to be the richest county in America on a per capita basis. Tonight I learn that it has the highest APA in the country as well. I think hard, but cannot figure it out. So, I have to ask what an APA is. I should have known. APA = asshole per acre. Happy New Year everyone!