December is a tough month for many. Closing that last deal, taking finals, trips here and there, buying gifts, etc. etc. Take a moment to relax and inhale...better yet, get a wuppa and take it to bed. www.mywuppa.com
You have to love technology. The website was put together by my co-founder and chief marketing officer/chief technology officer aka my son, who is 11-years-old and the future! No wonder we stagnate.
December is the month for parties - one of which I had on my calendar for tonight, but wasn't... My poor neighbor that I had promised to pick up -- harassed by phone calls and then a persistent ringing of doorbells, who kindly informs me the event is Sunday not tonight. Aghhhh!!!
So, I drive home and pop a wuppa into the microwave, and voila!! Wuppa life!
Thursday, December 16, 2010
Friday, December 10, 2010
Patience
Sometimes I feel that Patience is my middle name. Especially tonight... After a couple of decades of being a mother and a wife, this past year is practically the first where I have not been a working mom. Let me rephrase that. It's the first year that I have worked this hard, and not been paid anything meaningful for the work.
Much as I love my new lifestyle and the brain training that accompanies the process of building something new that is meaningful to me and (dare I say?) the world, it puts me face-to-face with the mundane. In between the cleaning, laundry, cooking, taking care of the kids, and generally attempting to keep my family happy and at peace, I am also an entrepreneur in the making. Just because I have eight arms and a dozen eyes, and bottomless compassion for mankind and the universe, doesn't mean there is no limit to patience. My cooking may not look great tonight, but it actually tastes exponentially better than anything I have seen my better half cook in a long, long time. But a meaningful shrug of the Gallic shoulders and an expressive lift of the eyebrows have set me off. In addition, my rebellion-hormone-filled daughters and their remarks tops it.
So, here I am sitting in front of my PC with my headsets on - signalling to the world that I WANT TO BE LEFT ALONE - listening to music that soothes the soul.
My sister would be proud to learn that I am listening to her favorite band.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6OPf_cs1JYk&feature=related
Patience to the world. Amen.
Much as I love my new lifestyle and the brain training that accompanies the process of building something new that is meaningful to me and (dare I say?) the world, it puts me face-to-face with the mundane. In between the cleaning, laundry, cooking, taking care of the kids, and generally attempting to keep my family happy and at peace, I am also an entrepreneur in the making. Just because I have eight arms and a dozen eyes, and bottomless compassion for mankind and the universe, doesn't mean there is no limit to patience. My cooking may not look great tonight, but it actually tastes exponentially better than anything I have seen my better half cook in a long, long time. But a meaningful shrug of the Gallic shoulders and an expressive lift of the eyebrows have set me off. In addition, my rebellion-hormone-filled daughters and their remarks tops it.
So, here I am sitting in front of my PC with my headsets on - signalling to the world that I WANT TO BE LEFT ALONE - listening to music that soothes the soul.
My sister would be proud to learn that I am listening to her favorite band.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6OPf_cs1JYk&feature=related
Patience to the world. Amen.
Saturday, November 27, 2010
11 lbs
Happy Thanksgiving to all of you!
My 11 lbs turkey was a big success, thanks to a decade of training. The organic turkey was brined in garlic, onion and salt water overnight, then patted dry, stuffed with apples and potatoes and 4 hours later....voila!
(must insert photo here)
The turkey is now gone - nobody had time to complain about leftovers. Despite the fact that my friend, who was born weighing in as much as our turkey (kudos to her mom!), did not participate in eating the bird (early childhood trauma of pet chicken appearing on dinner table), we managed to clean it all out in two meals. One thing for sure - turkey makes you sleepy. I have slept like a baby this long weekend.
Thanks to Lynn who told me about a book called The Secret Life of the Grown-up Brain, I now know that my brain is doing exactly what it should be doing at its stage in life. Our brains may not be as quick as younger brains, but they are wiser (unless you cannot outgrow your self-centered self, in which case, you simply turn into an old fool). I take comfort in this knowledge, and vow to be more empathetic to others.
So, this morning, I drive my son to the SF Music Conservatory, and wait in the van for an hour reading up on the Male Brain, which explains a lot of stuff, that I already knew (except I now know they can't help it).
My 11 lbs turkey was a big success, thanks to a decade of training. The organic turkey was brined in garlic, onion and salt water overnight, then patted dry, stuffed with apples and potatoes and 4 hours later....voila!
(must insert photo here)
The turkey is now gone - nobody had time to complain about leftovers. Despite the fact that my friend, who was born weighing in as much as our turkey (kudos to her mom!), did not participate in eating the bird (early childhood trauma of pet chicken appearing on dinner table), we managed to clean it all out in two meals. One thing for sure - turkey makes you sleepy. I have slept like a baby this long weekend.
Thanks to Lynn who told me about a book called The Secret Life of the Grown-up Brain, I now know that my brain is doing exactly what it should be doing at its stage in life. Our brains may not be as quick as younger brains, but they are wiser (unless you cannot outgrow your self-centered self, in which case, you simply turn into an old fool). I take comfort in this knowledge, and vow to be more empathetic to others.
So, this morning, I drive my son to the SF Music Conservatory, and wait in the van for an hour reading up on the Male Brain, which explains a lot of stuff, that I already knew (except I now know they can't help it).
Monday, November 22, 2010
The Economy is Recovering
Today, my gut instinct tells me that we are in recovery mode. This morning, we ran out of milk, and so I decide it's time to go to Costco. After working on a presentation, I take a 30-minute plunge in the local pool, and then drive north. Costco is packed as I have never seen before. I sense that everyone is tired of being penny pinching. They are carefully splurging, which is very different from simply splurging. Even I opt for an organic turkey which costs twice as much as a normal hormone-happy turkey.
As I arrive home and chat with a friend about my experience, she says that is exactly what CNBC as saying: people are tired of being stingy. Let's hope we all lift the tide again.
As I arrive home and chat with a friend about my experience, she says that is exactly what CNBC as saying: people are tired of being stingy. Let's hope we all lift the tide again.
Saturday, November 13, 2010
Senior Moment
My friend just became a proud homeowner. She came over to talk it over tonight. One thing leads to another, and soon, we are chatting about many random things. At some point, she says "What the hell was I going to say?". It happens, a lot more often than before. I am happy to share in her senior moment. It's most embarrassing when you are trying to impress someone. Since, neither of us are even dreaming of doing this to each other anymore, we look at each other in silent appreciation of the thought that has been lost forever. It does not deter us though.
We continue on our path of remodeling her house from top to bottom.
We continue on our path of remodeling her house from top to bottom.
Wednesday, November 10, 2010
November
The day starts like a typical weekday for me. I awake, and slither my way into the shower stall, emerging semi-human. I make coffee, warm up the milk, shake a little cocoa in, and survey the kitchen for crumbs to be swept.
After checking my email, and downing my cafe mocha, I whirl my vacuum cleaner around, hang the laundry on the clean tech dryer (aka the laundry drying rack), and tackle more emails. This morning, I have a power walk with an acquaintance in town. Charlie knows something is up and gets ready too. We make it down together to the first cross street, where Charlie stalls. This forces me to take him home, hop into my batmobile and speed down to the meeting point. Gorgeous weather and intriguing conversation ensue.
In the afternoon, I head into San Francisco to meet a delightful person to discuss business. My phone rings, which I silence with apologies. Two hours later, I hear my youngest on voice mail asking for a ride home from school since he has his trombone and cannot manage that and his back pack on a bike. I summon help from my spouse, who swoops up the baby who has practically turned into an ice cream. The pain of thinking of the wait in front of school alone.... His siblings are right in their cool critique - why didn't he call papa in the first place? Why did he not think ahead? He spends hours at the library anyway, what's the difference spending it in front of school? HOWEVER, my heart aches and I feel bad as I zoom home to check his pulse. OBVIOUSLY, he lives and is NOT AT ALL traumatized.
After checking my email, and downing my cafe mocha, I whirl my vacuum cleaner around, hang the laundry on the clean tech dryer (aka the laundry drying rack), and tackle more emails. This morning, I have a power walk with an acquaintance in town. Charlie knows something is up and gets ready too. We make it down together to the first cross street, where Charlie stalls. This forces me to take him home, hop into my batmobile and speed down to the meeting point. Gorgeous weather and intriguing conversation ensue.
In the afternoon, I head into San Francisco to meet a delightful person to discuss business. My phone rings, which I silence with apologies. Two hours later, I hear my youngest on voice mail asking for a ride home from school since he has his trombone and cannot manage that and his back pack on a bike. I summon help from my spouse, who swoops up the baby who has practically turned into an ice cream. The pain of thinking of the wait in front of school alone.... His siblings are right in their cool critique - why didn't he call papa in the first place? Why did he not think ahead? He spends hours at the library anyway, what's the difference spending it in front of school? HOWEVER, my heart aches and I feel bad as I zoom home to check his pulse. OBVIOUSLY, he lives and is NOT AT ALL traumatized.
Friday, October 22, 2010
Small Claims Court, etc.
In pursuit of justice, I soar into the small claims court this afternoon. Little do people know that earlier this morning, I have trekked to the pediatrician with child in tow to find that he is actually NOT choking to death, and has NO strep germs. Nor do they know that I have been on a call to figure out complex solar finance structures, and figure out what RMBS securitization entails, while cooking a chicken in the oven for lunch.
Charlie is front and center in court - the case should be remembered as Charlie vs Delta Air Lines. The horrible ordeals endured by Charlie and my friends who had to care for him were revealed despite feeble attempts by Delta Air Lines to deflect attention to unrelated issues. I thought of wearing "before" and "after" photos of Charlie on my T-shirt, but other issues prevented me from getting my act together. So, to save the defendant from humiliation, the court has taken the case into "submission" (whatever that means) and the order will be mailed. I can smell victory, but my stomach hurts like crazy. I didn't think I was nervous, but I suppose I was. A whopping $3700 of claims - at one point, the judge asks whether "this is for the dog", to which I reply that the dog is still alive albeit very neurotic. She hastens to clarify that she did not mean it that way, but simply wanted to know if all $3700 was for the dog's travel arrangements, which they unfortunately are.
As I walk in the door to the house, said dog greets me, and immediately climbs up on the sofa and rests his chin on the cushions. Visions of Charlie and Snoopy overlap as I imagine the psychiatrist asking about post-trauma impacts.
Charlie is front and center in court - the case should be remembered as Charlie vs Delta Air Lines. The horrible ordeals endured by Charlie and my friends who had to care for him were revealed despite feeble attempts by Delta Air Lines to deflect attention to unrelated issues. I thought of wearing "before" and "after" photos of Charlie on my T-shirt, but other issues prevented me from getting my act together. So, to save the defendant from humiliation, the court has taken the case into "submission" (whatever that means) and the order will be mailed. I can smell victory, but my stomach hurts like crazy. I didn't think I was nervous, but I suppose I was. A whopping $3700 of claims - at one point, the judge asks whether "this is for the dog", to which I reply that the dog is still alive albeit very neurotic. She hastens to clarify that she did not mean it that way, but simply wanted to know if all $3700 was for the dog's travel arrangements, which they unfortunately are.
As I walk in the door to the house, said dog greets me, and immediately climbs up on the sofa and rests his chin on the cushions. Visions of Charlie and Snoopy overlap as I imagine the psychiatrist asking about post-trauma impacts.
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