Archive for July, 2011


I celebrated my 43rd birthday yesterday.

First thing, I did my yearly mirror assessment. I tend to mostly avoid those things.

I’m happy to say that everything is still in the general vicinity of where it once was.  Generally. Pretty much.

I have, however, made my passage into the age of the elbow.

In other words, any shape you form my elbow skin into, it will stay like that. It’s like silly putty back there.

They’ve become Max’s favorite pastime when I’m standing in a line pretty much anywhere.

Does this bother you?

Cause it’s gonna happen to you, too. You should deal with that sooner than later.


I was pretty much spoiled to death yesterday and I’m still recovering. Some people call that a hangover. Which I do not have. They just call it that.

For the record, I may or may not have a hangover.

Okay, I don’t. I was just trying to sound mysterious and I’m failing. Because you can’t be mysterious when you talk about your elbows. Elbows should be spelled elboes.

Now I just sound drunk. I can’t win.

Here are things I almost can’t even stand to talk about because I’m so excited.

1. This is Riley Family Vacation week which is going to be epic. It’s epic because the kids are not used to us spending money on anything ever. Which makes it even funner. We are going to see the Pirate Exhibit and maybe going camping and also staying in Denver for 2 nights (Max is obsessed with elevators so he should be set) and we are going to get flushed down giant toilets at Waterworld (in the afternoon because it’s cheaper) and tubing down lots of way too rushing waters. Eeek!

2. I get to move on Aug. 1st ,which is like, tomorrow. But it isn’t, except in my mind, which makes no sense unless you’re me. And I am picking out paint colors with names like Spanish Olive and Dried Palm and something with a willow that makes me all silly. I love the names of paint. They make me hungry.

3. Every year I receive $25 in the mail from my mom and dad, which I hide immediately. Sometimes I forget about it. I recently found a check for Tucker. It was dated 2009. I still have it. Sorry mom. This  year I am buying a toaster oven, and I can’t even stand how mindlessly thrilled I am over it. I think I’m the Benjamin Button of appliance purchases.I should have bought one when I was 21. I never saw that movie, so if that doesn’t apply, or that’s not how you spell Benjamin, humor me. (It’s just weird for someone to marry a baby. Did that happen?)

4. I ate a lot yesterday. We walked around the lake and then went to lunch at Efrain’s and then I had a 90 minute massage and then we went to Rio for an “appetizer” and then to Centro for those freaking delicious habanero pork tacos and then I saw the pineapple upside down cake and almost died and then the chef accidentally burned it so they brought me some fancy coffee to make me forget I was waiting. It was so spiked. Then we decided to drive into the mountains and listen to the falls and see the stars up close. If you live in a place that probably feels like you died and went to the desert, allow me to rub this part in. I needed a blanket up there. It was chilly. Perfectly, deliciously chilly. Have a nice day.

5. I will be rid of the Mayor forever very,very soon. I can’t give you details, but he’s still ruining my life and asking for seconds. (Our temporary landlord scrubs his driveway. Often. But he’s not my problem. Thank the good Lord.) Our new real landlord lives in Seattle. His mom is the nicest human on the planet. A collective crossing of fingers, if you please.

This little gyspy is pretty contented. No doubt due to the limited amounts of suitcases we are all living out of.

And guess what? Not  a negative peep out of the collective caravan.

Go figure.



I miss that just had a new baby smell.

Okay. I exaggerate.

But I do miss that just had a baby feeling. Sometimes my uterus just up and goes to Sonic because it has nothing better to do.

I love seeing all of your baby pictures of sippy cups and pregnancy and older babies holding newer babies. Isn’t it weird how small your older baby looks until you have a newborn? Then your older baby’s head just looks enormous.

Especially in instagram.

I mean the pics. Of your cute babies.

Not your other baby’s enormous head.

I know what you’re thinking. Stop her before she consummates again. Too late.


No. I will not have more babies. I promise to the best of my personal ability.

But it’s a strange feeling to stay in on a Friday night while your 13 year old daughter concocts potions in the back room from avocado and grapefruit and smears it all on her friend’s face while listening to Miley (yes, she still exists) and One Republic.

And then she starts her own holistic spa website.

Here’s the spatastic website link.

What baby does that?

The same baby who learned to ask if we had avocado and honey coupons about the same time she learned to do calculus.

Okay. She’s in algebra.

She will be editing and adding and tweaking the website, of course. She’s 13.  She will be editing and adding and tweaking everything until she’s 72.

But she’s already more mature than me.

Which is why I want another baby.

Which reminds me.

If you are young parents, I get how crazy it gets. I had four, and had to borrow people off the streets to ensure their survival.

But I miss those times now. I promise.

I promise.

I promise.

I promise.

Mexico City, Part 1

So, I’m in Mexico City. I came to join Brad and his teams for the iEmpathize Expedition. I have not been disappointed.

Except for that little stint in el bano. (I don’t know how to add the squiggly on top of the “n”. And I know it’s not called a squiggly. It’s just a thousand times more fun to say.)

I left on Wednesday in the wee hours. Hopefully, that’s why I made such a scene trying to get into this country. I couldn’t keep track of anything I had with me, went to the wrong counter to check in, dropped my suitcase on my head, got tangled in my long loopy necklace and tripped into my seat on the plane. It was fantastic.

Brad and German and Lorena picked me up at the airport. The screens at the airport said my flight was delayed. It was actually early. So I hung out with Miguel. Miguel was my seat mate. He speaks zero English but he’s fluent in “I better get down this chick’s suitcase for her before she maims someone”. We are very close.

Our first order of business was to stop and change the flat tire in German’s car. It’s a BMW. You have to order these tires online because apparently they aren’t easy to find. Unless you stop at a random tire shop on the side of a random road. Then you’ll find one.

We ate lunch at El Califa. I died. And then I passed out. And then I died again.

It was good.

Lunch happens around 4. Dinner happens around 10:30.

This works for me. I might become a Mexican.

Now I’m going to make a Top Ten list of other happenings, because I’ll never get caught up if I don’t. I’ve only been here 4 days but it might as well be 200. They are in no particular order. It makes no sense to number them backwards, but I’m going to.

10. Bukowski’s book shop and coffee bar. I want to live in there.

9. The Aztec Ruins. I have a fear of heights that I’m working on getting over. This place helped tremendously. I don’t think anyone cares if you fall face first down the side of it. Muy peligroso.

8. Las Sirenas. Incredible food. Terrace overlooking the Cathedral and the Ruins excavations. Dead Sexy.

7. Naria’s birthday. We crashed her party. It was as close to an Eat, Pray, Love moment as I’ll ever have.

6. Uruapan. Look it up. Never mind. I looked it up. It’s not the same as what I’m talking about.

5. Holding Fernanda. She’s 5 months old and lives under a bridge with an entire community of abandoned children.

4. Singing spontaneous songs with those same children.

3. The Metro. There are 20 million people in Mexico City. I’m convinced every single one of them was on the Metro at the same time. I ended up standing on one leg, rested my head on a stranger’s shoulder and poured coffee down my own shirt.

2. The unexpected olive platter that was delivered to my table. How could they know??

1. Thunderstorms. Every day.

Did you know parts of Mexico City are sinking 6 inches each year?

It’s true.