Here are some things that I did yesterday:
- Spend approximately six hours sitting in rainy traffic while driving to and from the ear, nose, and throat specialist in New Haven;
- Spill a milkshake on my leg while trying to never ever ever pause the french-fry delivery system from Mom to Back Seat, because the iPad did not charge and that is very bad when you are in the car for six hours with a toddler;
In today's Most Random Thing Ever, I am now completely obsessed with Persian rugs. I remember my mom had an old blue and grey one when I was growing up, and I think at some point she asked me if I wanted it for my apartment, and I was all ewwwww that's so booooooring and oooooold (or something similarly obnoxious).
Oops.
Anyway, I now I regret that statement. Mom, if you are reading and still own the thing:
The first thing that lets me know that winter is on its way: the heat goes on, and my annual battle against The Dryness commences. Humidifiers get trucked up from the basement, light summer moisturizers and body washes get swapped out for richer formulas, lip balms start piling up in my handbags, and I become a conveyer belt for glass after glass after jug of water.
The second thing that lets me know that winter is on its way: I start wanting to switch things up a little in the beauty department, usually by focusing more on my skin and on my lips.
1. Skin is such a focal point of this look – but I know better than anyone how hard it can be to keep your skin looking healthy and radiant when the colder months hit. Switch your cleanser to a moisturizing formula like Simple Skincare Moisturizing Facial Wash (which contains soothing Pro-vitamin B5 and moisturizing Vitamin E and won’t irritate sensitive skin), and make sure to use a richer moisturizer than you do in the summertime (I either use Simple Skincare Vital Vitamin Day Cream SPF 15 or – on especially dry days – top the Replenishing Rich Moisturizer with some BB cream for sun protection).
This is Kendrick trying to show me something called a “Heisman Pose” prior to us leaving for our Sunday-afternoon HowAboutWe date to see the Jets play the Saints at MetLife Stadium. (Upon review of this photo, I see that the point is to actually pretend that you are holding a football and not doing the can-can. I’m sure you’re shocked to discover that I am not particularly well-versed in such topics.)
My feelings about football games are similar to my feelings about Homeland. It looks like people really enjoy it and I’m sure I’d like it if I got into it, but I can’t really get past the fact that it seems like it’d kind of be…not my thing, exactly.
But I do enjoy hot dogs and beer, and I do have fond memories of the five minutes in my life that I previously spent at a football game (a brief foray away from the tailgate area during a Harvard-Yale game back in 2002), and so when I saw the Jets game in the HowAboutWe DateBook I thought: oh, sure. Let’s give a day at the stadium a shot.
One of the hardest things for me to learn over the past two years is how to let the list go once in awhile. I've always been this way - a checker-offer, an on-to-the-next-thing person - and while that can be a good thing in some ways (especially if you're self-employed)...I can't tell you how many nights I've woken up at 2A.M., thought back on the day, and thought to myself: god, I wish I had just stopped moving moving moving for a second and been there.
It makes me crazy sometimes, how much I want to slow the clocks.
Yesterday afternoon I took Indy to the playground - way too late: it was almost dark, and we were supposed to be at a friend's house for a playdate in just a few minutes. But on the way into the supermarket to pick up a few things for dinner he spotted the park across the street and said, "Playground?" and I thought...
Groceries can wait.
(In which I dance to Vitamin C.)
In the mood to wear today: a loose grey sweater (with an excellent elbow patch), rips and tears, and a spot of zebra...all covered up with ladylike soft pink.
Speaking of pink coats, can we talk about that Eva Mendes for New York & Company version (pictured above)?
In the summer after ninth grade, my friends and I started hanging around a certain block on the Upper West Side, right near the Burger King. It was a pretty well-known gathering place for a particular group of kids at that time: a casting director for the movie Kids - an extremely bleak but not entirely off-base portrayal of what teenage life was like in New York City in the mid-1990s - actually hung around there and ended up putting a few of our friends in the film. On Friday and Saturday nights, dozens of us would stream in as the sun set, calling out to each other to see what the plan was - because in the time before cell phones you actually had to stop into places to find out what was going on - then use the pay phone on the corner to page friends who hadn't shown up yet. There was a code for "meet at Burger King", but I can't remember what it was.
When we'd gathered a big enough group, we'd wander through Central Park, head over to the East Side to stop into the apartment of someone whose parents were out of town, and then usually end up sitting in the grass outside the Met after night fell, our backs leaned against the slanting glass wall of the Egyptian exhibit, doing our best to get into trouble but mostly only playing game after game of "I Never."
There was this one summer when a girl named Hannah seemed like the center of it all: she had long, dark bangs, wore glitter eye makeup and perfect bellbottoms and her hair in two high, twisted buns on top of her head, and was best friends with the boy I had decided that I was in love with for the moment. She seemed comfortable in a way that I wanted so badly; I never could figure out how to be at rest with myself with too many people around - especially people who I very much wanted to be just like. While we walked in large packs down the cobblestone streets bordering the park, yelling and laughing and shoving each other, I always had the sense that I was hovering somewhere outside of myself, looking in at my awkward way of holding my arms, my spotty skin, my not-quite-right sneakers, and seeing just how much I didn't fit.
Morgan just asked me to send her a list of books I've recently read and would recommend, so I thought I'd share it for those of you looking for something to curl up with by the fireplace.
- The Good House, by Ann Leary: About an alcoholic real-estate agent, written by Denis Leary's wife Ann Leary and one of my favorite books I've read in years.
- The Age Of Miracles, by Karen Thompson Walker: About what happens when the earth stops spinning; heartbreaking and wonderful and unforgettable.
- Where'd You Go, Bernadette?, by Maria Semple: A beautifully crafted story about a daughter's relationship with her eccentric and extraordinary mother; funny and compelling and lovely.
- Wild, by Cheryl Strayed: One of the most beautiful books I've read in my life, and I went into it thinking "a book about hiking? Ehhhhhhhgh."
- Life After Life, by Kate Atkinson: I have no idea how to describe this one other than that it can be a little tough to get through (it's about an English woman who dies time after time - and then comes back to life - as the country marches towards war), but is very much worth the effort. I didn't want it to ever end.
- Seating Arrangements, by Maggie Shipstead: Sort of Great Gatsby-esque, about a family's misbehaviors at a ritzy weekend wedding.
At the moment, I'm re-reading Russell Brand's My Booky-Wook (not nearly as silly as it sounds; he's an incredible writer and it's worth a second read) and am wading through The Returned (the subject matter - long-dead people suddenly come back to life and reconnect with the families they left behind - is just a little too upsetting for me to get into at night, which is when I do most of my reading).
