here's what's on my mind

Human Potential

Sat, 07 Nov 2009 10:23:51 -0800

The thought of running a 5k activates my gag reflex. A half-marathon doesn’t even register on my list of things possible, much less a full marathon. My friend J is running a full marathon today AFTER swimming 2.4 miles and biking 112. The fact that a human can complete an Ironman baffles me. Apart from the physical aspect, imagine what a psyche goes through during those 12 hours…

J, I am in awe of you, sister.

And I’m tracking you!!! You’re done with the swim and on your bike…*shakes pom poms*

An equation:

Wed, 04 Nov 2009 12:01:02 -0800

Our stockpile of airline miles plus Mom being in-between jobs equals Mom being able to fly across the country for a spur-of-the-moment trip.

I’ve always felt very far from my family here in LA, but it doesn’t seem so now.

"The secret of health for both mind and body is not to mourn for the past, not to worry about the..."

Wed, 04 Nov 2009 08:11:54 -0800

““The secret of health for both mind and body is not to mourn for the past, not to worry about the future, and not to anticipate troubles, but to live in the present moment wisely and earnestly.””

- Buddha (via thinkingaboutthinking)

Sacrificing the Brain

Fri, 30 Oct 2009 17:25:00 -0700

While flying home from Miami last week I read an article in the NEW YORKER about what football does to the brain. Neuroscientists are logging evidence that retired football players have a significantly higher rate of developing “behavioral and personality changes, followed by disinhibition and irritability, before moving on to dementia.” All long before old-age.

Here are some quotes from the article:

‘I remember, every season, multiple occasions where I’d hit someone so hard that my eyes went cross-eyed, and they wouldn’t come uncrossed for a full series of plays.’ —Terry Long, retired Pittsburgh Steeler

Referring to data from sensors placed inside a UNC defensive lineman’s helmet, collected during preseason morning and evening practices one day: ‘9:55 A.M. He has an 80-g hit to the front of his head. About ten minutes later, he has a 98-g acceleration to the front of his head. To put those numbers in perspective, if you drove your car into a wall at twenty-five miles per hour and you weren’t wearing your seat belt, the force of your head hitting the windshield would be around 100gs: in effect, the player had two car accidents that morning. In the evening session, he experiences [a] 64-g hit to the same spot.’ —Kevin Guskiewicz, head of UNC’s Sports Concussion Research Program. Later in the evening session, this player received a 63-g hit. Including those four blows, this player was hit in the head thirty-one times that day and sustained a concussion.

Data collected by the abovementioned sensors placed in various players helmets ‘suggests that, in an average football season, a lineman could get struck in the head a thousand times, which means that a ten-year NFL veteran, when you bring in his college and high-school playing days, could well have been hit in the head eighteen thousand times: that’s thousands of jarring blows that shake the brain from front to back and side to side, stretching and weakening and tearing the connections among nerve cells.’ —Robert Cantu, concussion specialist.

LAX. Dropping off my husband; picking up my mama!

Wed, 28 Oct 2009 11:19:40 -0700

LAX. Dropping off my husband; picking up my mama!

The neighbors

Fri, 23 Oct 2009 16:43:35 -0700

in our two short rows of bungalows are old-school neighbors. They linger to talk, keep up with each other’s professional and personal doings, come together when an older neighbor is in the hospital and needs this or that.

When I moved here nearly three years ago I felt awkward with the intimacy of it all, simply because I never had neighbors like this in Miami and eight years of anonymity becomes a habit.

Sandy was the neighbor who broke me in. She stopped to talk every single time I saw her, and over months I grew to appreciate our snippets of time together. She dragged heavy wedding presents to her place after every UPS delivery during our honeymoon. She took Trix back home when our unsecured French Doors blew open one day while we were at work and Trix ran out into the street. She brought me homemade spring rolls. One afternoon several months ago, we sat hip to hip on the narrow step on my front porch and she told me she had cancer. We talked about her cancer, her fight, and her fears whenever she brought it up, which in the past few months was often.

Yesterday morning another neighbor, Steve, told me that Sandy is dying. I immediately cried and then wondered aloud about Steve’s well being, as he and Sandy have been neighbors for something like eighteen years and theirs is a deep brand of friendship. Steve said that he’s struggling with the news, but that Sandy is one of the few people he knows who is spiritually ready to go. He said that knowing this helps mitigate his grief.

I’ve been thinking about this for two days. Obviously it’s different for everyone, but what does it mean to be spiritually ready to go? I imagine it’s a blend of reconciling regrets, tying loose ends, feeling exhausted by illness and willing to let go, believing that there’s peace on the other side.

I think part of it must also be the result of doing something Sandy has done well:

Being a good neighbor.

Tonight

Fri, 23 Oct 2009 16:19:33 -0700

Belated birthday dinner for my sisinlaw: red snapper with lemon/butter/caper sauce, roasted broccoli with fresh grated parmesan, baby caprese salad, raspberry/vanilla cupcakes with chocolate buttercream frosting.

YUM!

On another food note, my latest obsession is BRUSSEL SPROUTS. I wrote that in all caps because my entire life I’ve “hated” them. I wrote that with quotation marks because I don’t think I ate them once. I concluded that I hated them based on reputation alone. Well, I’ve been halving them and sauteing them in olive oil cut side down, then sprinkling them with salt, pepper and fresh grated parmesan. The sprouts get soft while the bottoms get brown and crispy and, well, I’m obsessed.

Back from Miami

Thu, 22 Oct 2009 15:13:35 -0700

I didn’t have time to see every friend I would have liked to see, but my time with the ones I did recharged a battery for me.

Earlier today I walked by the Coconut Grove Playhouse, where I...

Tue, 20 Oct 2009 13:05:22 -0700

Earlier today I walked by the Coconut Grove Playhouse, where I saw dozens of plays when I lived in Miami. It’s a beautiful, historic theatre-closed now due to the artistic director misappropriating funds that were needed for repairs, without which the building was unable to remain open to the public. Sad…there are so few places to see a play in this sprawling city.

My view right now. Sunny, warm, breezy Miami afternoon.

Tue, 20 Oct 2009 12:53:08 -0700

My view right now. Sunny, warm, breezy Miami afternoon.

Miami afternoon rain rolling in

Sat, 17 Oct 2009 11:24:51 -0700

Miami afternoon rain rolling in

A Couple of Things

Fri, 16 Oct 2009 10:42:31 -0700

The cashier at a Dallas airport Starbucks just called me ‘ladybug’, and I thought it was sorta cute.

While walking to my gate I passed the exact Auntie Ann’s Pretzel stand where threeish years ago I realized my wallet had fallen out of my bag on the plane I’d just gotten off of (three terminals away), and that I was going to miss my next flight, work, the cutoff for picking up my dog. Only zipup bags under plane seats ladies!

That’s all.

Tarmac:

Fri, 16 Oct 2009 06:57:59 -0700

LAX. Next stop: Dallas. Destination: Miami.

carshot

Thu, 15 Oct 2009 21:35:19 -0700

carshot

Artificial Virginity Device Sparks Backlash In Egypt

Wed, 14 Oct 2009 16:45:00 -0700

Artificial Virginity Device Sparks Backlash In Egypt:

The online ad from Gigimo promises women “no more worry,” because they can restore their virginity for just $29.95. The ad says the “artificial virginity hymen” fits in the vagina and, upon penetration, oozes a bloodlike liquid.

???

Via NPR

'You Become'

Wed, 14 Oct 2009 12:26:41 -0700

One of the men with whom I share office space has this excerpt from The Velveteen Rabbit, by Margery Williams, written in calligraphy and framed on the wall of his office.

Often, when I arrive early for sessions, I wander the large office and peer at the myriad things he’s collected over the years: books, artwork, clocks, trinkets. I wonder how many of these things were token gifts from clients, the type of gifts we accept from a client, just that once, because it is small and its only symbolism is gratitude.

I keep coming back to this excerpt, reading it from the wall and thinking about how I’ve come to relove these words (I knew them as a child, but the meaning has morphed), and wondering if a client gifted him this in thanks for helping her to allow herself to really be loved by those around her, to become, to be Real.

Anyway, here’s the excerpt:

Out and About in LA

Tue, 13 Oct 2009 15:50:16 -0700

I thought I’d write a little blurb for LA peeps who might be looking for a romantic restaurant. We had a wonderful anniversary dinner at Il Cielo on Saturday. It was total-package wonderful. We sat outside under open sky and surrounded by twinkling lights, we had the best oaky Chianti I’ve tasted in a long time, and the food was superyum. The aspect that rounded out the whole experience was the service. It was spot on, and after dinner they offered us limoncello and biscotti on the house.

Ideas I Like

Tue, 13 Oct 2009 15:28:00 -0700

My friend Lauren and several of her workmates started a Lunch Club. I believe there are five of them, and each day one person brings lunch for everyone based on that week’s theme (salad, panini, etc.). She said it ends up being less expensive than preparing her own lunch every day, and that it’s a supertreat to have a delicious homemade lunch dropped off at her desk. The extra awesome factor is that her office is in Santa Monica and has a roof deck, so often the Lunch Club gathers up there to eat together.

For my husband, on our first wedding anniversary.

Sun, 11 Oct 2009 02:05:00 -0700

Vermont gifted us a perfect fall day, complete with blue skies, warmth, and leaves afire with the season.

I woke up that morning giddy with anticipation and the joy of being with women who cherish me, you, us…women with whom I laughed, primped, and basked in the love of it all

while you did the same, with your boys, downstairs.

We said our vows beneath the great ceiling of that cathedral, amongst nearly everyone whose existence is somehow inextricably attached and important to ours.

Today, a year later, I could say that I love you, and admire you, and am endlessly thankful that you are a part of my day to day. I could say that I bask in the idea of forever with you.

And all of that would be true.

But what about the daily laughter, the invented words, the easy hours, the long talks? What about the times that life has broken us and existence, if only for the moment, was the other’s shoulder, endless in its safety? What about my feeling inspired by our shared dreams, supported in and supporting of our separate ones?

What about acknowledging that all of that, that your presence in my life, makes me feel as if I’ve been plugged into an electrical outlet and I’m entirely alive for the first time?

What about feeling that forever does not seem long enough?

And then there’s the quiet peace that comes with remembering the first hours we spent together. I was in my third decade, wondering if I’d ever find a good man. And then I found you. Or you found me. Or maybe, as Rumi said, we were in each other all along.

Photos by Cyndi Freeman.

This photo was taken while we were out and about celebrating our...

Sun, 11 Oct 2009 01:58:00 -0700

This photo was taken while we were out and about celebrating our anniversary. I would like to point out two things: a) El’s expression, and b) the fact that his head is 1.75 times the size of mine.

Happy Anniversary, Cabezon Chele!