So they changed it. And I was happy. (PS I was right about the fluid getting everywhere.)

I was able to get PiperJane dressed and her hair done while she played with the one present we let her open the day before. It’s these hilarious Star Wars Muppets that she loooooooves.

As you can imagine, Jake and I spent the next several hours watching PiperJane’s romantic morning with her beloved toys.

She carried around as many toys as she could hold in her little pippy hands, and snuggled in our laps cutely.

Her favorite toys are in the figurine category, and it wound up being a very figurine Christmas! Jake and I got her three new calico critter families. I was pretty sure she would be afraid of the hedgehog family because they have huge harry mullets, but they ended up being her favorite, haha. She has been lining up her toys on this ledge lately. When one falls she knows which family it goes in. I’m pretty proud of that little Piper Jane and all that progress she has made in OT!

We had such a great morning with Piper Jane. She was in a great mood and we listened to Christmas music and hugged the whole time.

Hoo-ray.

We missed our families so much. My entire family texted me at the same time on Christmas Eve. I got like 10 texts at the same time and it almost made me cry. I have to try and talk them into coming up here for an NYC Christmas next year!

Oh yeah, last but most definitely not least, a photo of Pippy hiding from Santa.

The first of three crazy weekends in a row came to a close yesterday. We had an overflowing agenda for the duration. Unfortunately for me, I only made it through Sunday night before being totally wiped out with a cold/flu. I felt it coming on Friday, with the sniffles, etc.. So I loaded up on vitamins. But I knew I was in trouble when I woke up on Monday morning and could not breath or talk. So annoying. I only ended up getting out of bed like 3 times during the entire day.

Notwithstanding the illness that befell me, I was able to pack in plenty of festivities before Monday. There was a bit of Korea town Karaoke. There was a bit of Catch Phrase. And there was plenty of quality time spent hanging out with friends and eating delicious things.

Let’s hope that the next two weekends go as well. Also let’s hope that they can be devoid of any incapacitating illness.

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I have traditionally been one of those grinchy types when it comes to this time of year. Christmas/New Years would just stress me out because of all of the traveling and the drain on the bank account. I have to say that this year I’m really looking forward to things. We didn’t do cards this year (which was a huge load off). We aren’t traveling until after the new year. And when we do it will be for snowboarding. Even though we have a lot of things planned for both weekends, they aren’t stressful things. Have a happy and mellow Christmas!

One year, I convinced my whole family, and my sister Jody, that she should stay in my room during her trip home. Erin had moved into Jody’s room since she had left, and I had a bunk bed, and I promised to be quiet in the morning and not talk too much when she was trying to fall asleep and she could sleep on whatever bunk she wanted! Who could turn that down?

She agreed! A Christmas miracle!

She chose the bottom. I cleaned my room and my dad helped me string my bunk bed with Christmas lights, which felt extremely hospitable of me. All the other kids were jeal’. The only thing left to do was wait and before I knew it, my cool college sister was wheeling her suitcase into my room and making herself at home while I hung from my bunk bed ladder like a monkey, falling apart with excitement.

I spent the next few days dishing out early 90s disses like “in your face” and “top that” to Erin and Nathan. I had a new confidence surrounding me that came with Jody staying in my room. I strutted around the house knowing that Jody chose me over everyone else and I was a 10 year old on top of the world.

Until I peed the bed. Yes, I peed the bed.

I have replayed the night over and over again. What could I have done differently leading up to the great pee? Was I a victim of a freak accident? All I know is that I was sleeping, minding my own business, dreaming about cute little girl things and then I woke up to that terrible wet warmth. It was horrifying. Thankfully all my rustling around and sheet changing didn’t wake Jody, and I was somehow able to cover up the whole ordeal. But come breakfast and believe you me I was a much more sheepish and less diss dishing little sister.

I learned my lesson the painful way. I like to think I was a sweeter and less boastful child after that. And Santa showed mercy on me and gave me tons of Barbie stuff that year. Including Totally Hair Barbie. My family was clueless to the accident and Christmas was saved.

And I never ever peed the bed again until I was pregnant.

It’s hard to imagine that cute face sneaking a stiff drink.

There was this family in our neighborhood growing up that threw a huge bash every year for Christmas. We would all dress fancy…I would always wear patent black Mary Janes and some sort of huge bow with my hair pulled half up…and prepare for a lovely evening. These people were actually neighbors from our first house in Oak Ridge, and since we had moved I didn’t ever really know the new neighbor kids that were invited. At that age it didn’t matter much, and before I knew it I had new best friends to hang out with.

Every year the adults seemed to get older and older. And every year I couldn’t believe I still had to eat the food at the kids’ table. So one year, I decided I was going to sneak some adult food. It looked so much better. I guess I had sophisticated taste buds at a young age, because crackers and cheese looked way more appealing than the artificially colored stuff at the kids’ table. Or maybe it was just that I had forbidden fruit syndrome.

It was a lot easier than I thought it would be. I got in line at the adult table, got myself a plate and a napkin and proceeded to serve myself all the delicacies there were to offer. Then I got to the punch bowl. It was a normal color, which was refreshing compared to the alarming green drink that was being served at the other side of the room. I scooped a few ladles into a fancy glass and wandered back over to mingle with my new friends.

I took a sip of my drink and gagged. “What the crap kind of punch is this?” I thought.

My mom taught me not to waste food, and I didn’t want to admit that the wonderful feast at the adult table was anything but, so I decided to keep drinking it. I mean, what kind of guest would I be, offending the hosts punch making skills? I choked it down slowly and steadily, plugging my nose with each gulp.

Finally, someone tapped on my shoulder, a grownup, and said “sweetheart you can’t drink that, it has alcohol in it.” and she snatched it out of my hand and walked away while I stood there in shock.

I thought ‘if she tells on me I’m definitely definitely grounded forever and I can for sure kiss the Barbie Dreamhouse I asked Santa for goodbye.’

The party was officially ruined. I sat there wondering if I was drunk (I wasn’t) and what my mom would say when she figured me out. If she wasn’t allowed to drink alcohol, I certainly wasn’t either. I was a goner.

Welp, my mom never found out (until this post) but unfortunately Santa did, and he held a mega grudge against me (hard core) and never gave me the Barbie Dreamhouse I asked for every year from the age of 5 to 17.

And I never ever drank alcohol again until senior year.

My mom swears by ignoring a temper tantrum. There is no humiliation like being 4 and realizing that you are laying on the ground at the supermarket, kicking and screaming because you want your mom to buy you cookies….and looking up to see that she is at the end of the isle, going on with her shopping like nothing ever happened.  Talk about backfire. Not only do you have the rude awakening that the tantrum is getting you nowhere (and no cookies) but now you have strangers looking at you, judging you, and you have to get up, wipe off your princess dress up clothes and catch up with your mom. Have you been there? I have. Humiliating.

So anyway. One time, by some unknown stroke of luck, a temper tantrum worked for me. Let me take you back. Back to 1986 or 7. Oak Ridge, Tennessee. Christmas morning.

My mom always had the tradition that we had to dress up nice for holidays. We were in full on Sunday best to open our gifts. Mama would line us up outside of the living room, youngest to oldest and she would call us in one by one to see our pile of toys. She had each pile, neatly displayed for each child. After a few minutes of taking it all in, and some shaky home videos, she would call in the next kid. Jesse wasn’t born yet, so I was still the youngest and not only got to go first, but usually got the most attention in the family too. I rather liked it that way but after all these years I’ve accepted that I’m not the youngest child anymore.

As each kid came out to see what their pile had in store, I played with my main gift, which was a Wrinkles. Do you remember those? I had already decided it’s name was going to be Susan (my mom’s name) but kept that to myself. Finally, my oldest sister Kelly came out. I watched her go through her things happily. When all of a sudden I dropped my jaw and Susan at the same time. Kelly had gotten a Heart to Heart Bear.

Oh no she dit’n.

“THAT’S MY HAWT TO HAWT BAY-YO!!!” I screamed. I cried. I repeated.

You see, my mom had a thing for getting us just one gift every year that might preserve our childhood a little longer. Kelly was probably already 15 at the time, and in my opinion she had no business getting such a rad toy. She should be getting lip gloss and *INXS posters. Not a bear with a real heart that beats when you hug him.

I screamed more. I couldn’t say my Rs so I generally tried to avoid getting myself into situations that required the letter. Which was tricky seeing as how it is the first letter of my name. But I forgot all about my little pwoblem and scweamed loudew.

“THAT’S MY HAWT TO HAWT BAY-YO!!!”

Kelly and my parents had a quick pow-wow and agreed to give me the damn bear. She traded me the bay-yo for Susan and we called it a day. I hugged my Bay-yo and I never ever ever regretted the trade. Especially since my birthday was only a month and a half later and I asked for a new Susan replacement. Which I got. But my Hawt to Hawt Bay-yo was one of the best toys I ever had, and I loved on it until it was ragged and tattered.

The most important part of the story, is that I never forgot the time the tantrum miraculously worked. Which isn’t really that strange because my dad tells this story every year.

Here is the Heart to Heart Bear commercial from my childhood!

This is what Susan looked like

*Was INXS around in 1986-7? I remember Kelly singing a lot of their songs. If they weren’t around yet, replace them with George Michael.

In true form, Thanksgiving weekend was a banger. Contrary to previous forecasts that I had seen, the weather was fantastic–sunny and uncharacteristically warm for this late in the year. We were able to catch up with several old friends, including some house guests. Saturday I spent the day with some friends at Brooklyn Bowl, throwing strikes and catching up. I was also able to drop by Opera Gallery in Soho to check out an installation that I’m pretty excited about, by London Police (below).

Top photo: Reagan has kind of a little tradition to get fresh flowers when we have house guests. I think it is kind of a nice one.

4 day weekends are boss. The weather has turned to crap, and is supposed to remain crap (rainy) for the duration. I’m not worried though. Some of our good friends will be spending the holiday with us, and I’m sure that there will be plenty of good times had. I’m also excited about my good friend Michael Corleone who will be returning from Italy after several years on the lam. Wait, that is a different Michael C.. My friend Micheal C., who is coming home from Italy to visit, didn’t shoot anyone. I’m hoping to be able to kick it with him for a minute or two over the weekend, as well.

Since it is sort of a Friday, I’m going to serve up this A train poem. I thought it was cheesily appropriate for this week since it has a bit of a gratitude theme.

The rain magnifies everything on the A train. The humidity on the platform, once bearable, reaches levels normally reserved for swamps and saunas. That subtle stench of urine/body-odor/halitosis becomes much less subtle. On rainy days, nose-deaf strap hangers are counted as fortunate. When it rains, the slight annoyance felt toward the person who keeps bumping your leg on the A train, becomes tangible as their wet umbrella soaks your slacks and drips onto your brogues. On the A train when it’s raining, that feeling of relief to finally be headed home goes beyond relief, and breaches the threshold of gratitude.

Happy Thanksgiving weekend!

[photo: Rush hour on the West Side Highway from the Vesey St. foot bridge]

Charlotte has been pretty dope, so far. Getting to the airport last night/the flight, was hellish. I mean, that is the only way to describe it. Finally, at long last we arrived in Charlotte. We met up with Reagan’s childhood friend, Deanna at the airport. We took the city bus from the airport, which was pretty awesome. After checking in to the hotel, we hit up a place called Carolina Ale House. Wings, nachos, etc.. Apparently it is a chain, down here (in the south). So dope.

Reagan has been doing pre-wedding stuff all day and I? Have been bowling (self P, above) and shopping by myself (and loving it).

Next chapter: is everyone ready for the next A train poem? Ok, that is entirely too much build up. No photo of the train to accompany this poem.

Did you ever notice how similar are the words “commute” and “commune? Commute, commune, communism, socialism, subwayism. I hear that in Japan, commuters are packed into the cars using a large bamboo staff. They are compressed to tightly that one could sleep while standing. Commute, compress, compact, contact. I think that I would like Japan.

So there is that. This is one of those multifaceted posts, where I delve into various unrelated, or loosely related topics. Next topic: Veteran’s day

Some might find it slightly ironic that I’m posting a photo of my paternal grandfather during WWII (bottom left), directly below a paragraph about liking Japan. But, dude, isn’t that kind of amazing? two generations back, sentiments of xenophobia directed towards Japan were common place because of the war. In current times, our hearts bled for those same individuals in the wake of earthquake/tsunami devastation. Can you imagine a world where Americans generally love and empathize with Afghanistan. I don’t have any sort of agenda. I’m just putting that out there.

I have serious respect for all our our enlisted men, past present and future. I’m sure that I will never be able to comprehend exactly how much our country is indebted to our servicemen.

Have a great weekend.

I almost didn’t even go out to the comp today, since it was so overcast when I finished my run in the morning. The sun came out soon afterwards, and I got an email from one of my photog friends who said that the conditions were ok. By the time that I arrived in LB, the weather was great, but it was almost high tide, and the waves were kind of crap. I hung out in the press pavilion the whole time and almost didn’t bother getting the camera out. But then I decided that I should probably get a couple of atmosphere shots, at least.

I’m headed out there early tomorrow, hopefully the conditions will be a bit better, since low tide is at like 8 AM or something. I have had worse Labor Day weekends. At least I was able to work on my tan a little bit. Part of me secretly wishes that I could just skip out on fashion week altogether and just shoot surfing all week.