Earth Hour

Not sure how many people are going to read this, but if you do, and you participate, please leave a comment and let me know how you felt about it.  Was it worth it?  Do you feel like you made a change? How do you feel about global warming?

I Review Emily Giffin

In a word: Guilty

Emily Giffin writes chick books.  Not Women's Fiction like Barbara Kingsolver.  Not dirty sexy beach trash like Nora Roberts.  No, Emily Giffin writes chick books.  Like chick flicks.  But you read them.  She doesn't examine the human condition.  You're not going to gain great insight into the plight of humanity.  And there aren't wildly ruacus sex scenes.  There's just good storytelling, funny characters, and witty writing.

Despite her protagonist's predictable flaws, we love them.  Don't want to get married? Check.  Don't want to have kids? Check.  Sleeping with your best friend's fiancee? Double check.  These women are painfully familiar, because we see them every morning in the mirror.  Like her readers, the protagonists make stupid decisions, like drunk dialing ex-boyfriends, dating co-workers, and spending too much money on shopping sprees.  And, we laugh at them when they do. 

If there is a best friend, she is usually hard-edged, says things that we all wish we had the guts to say, and dates men that are totally wrong for her.  She is hilarious and we love her. 

The men fall into a similar mold.  They are incredibly handsome, athletic, well educated, thoughtful, and have a strong work ethic.  They are all totally in love with the protagonist, but can't ever seem to say exactly what they're feeling.  Sometimes we love them, sometimes we hate them, but we're mostly just frustrated by them.  And attracted to them.

Giffin's stories are well told and fun.  At some point in every story, the reader laughs out loud and then cries a bit later.  She is witty, funny, sensitive, and charming.  On a personal note, she inspires me to keep reading, despite the late hour and droopy eyes.  I want to find out how it ends.  Ususally, if I'm halfway through, I'll push to the end.  And just suck it up and be exhausted the next day. 

Like today.

Ladies, if you want a good, fun read, I recommend these three books: Something Borrowed, Something Blue, and Baby Proof.  It's kind of a guilty pleasure.  I love me some Emily Giffin.

Fast Food

Today's Review: Cafe Naples at Downtown Disney

In a word: Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious

My best bud Alexandria and I hit up Disneyland about a week ago.  We both have the annual passes.  We're awesome.  I have photos to prove it.  Anyway, I considered offering a review of Disneyland, but oi! Why waste the time?  In a word: Epic.  Done.  Our dinner afterwards merited some comments, however.  Here's how that went down.

The three year-old set should eat often.  They've got metabolisms of hummingbirds.  Some days, Alexandria seems to eat a volume of food reserved for a giant.  She is not a giant.  She is 36 1/2" tall.  She's still tiny.  Keeping her fed is like trying to keep a bonfire lit with scrap paper.  So when she gets hungry, she needs food...NOW.  Enter Cafe Naples.  Tired, but happy, from 7 hours of walking, chatting, and laughing at Disneyland, we decided to get dinner before my mom picked us up.  We had about 45 minutes.  Cafe Naples beckoned us with it's two-story high glass windows, warm lighting, exposed kitchen, and stroller parking.  The place was packed with families, and despite the noise from the aforementioned families, our table felt quite intimate.  Our server, Val, approached us immediately.  I told him we were in a bit of a hurry, so we ordered our drinks and food at the same time.  He left.  I helped Alexandria with the games on her placemat for about 3 minutes.  Val came back with our drinks.  Our food was right behind him!  I am serious.  Alexandria's penne was piping hot, and my stuffed shells were cooked to perfection.

The food was likely prepared in advance, but this was definitely not processed food.  My plate was a picture of flavorful sauce, melted cheese, and warm ricotta stuffing.  I recommend.  Alexandria's serving of penne was practically perfect for a hungry kid.

Having worked in restaurants for nearly a decade, I wonder sometimes when the food arrives too quickly.  I've been trained to expect "made to order."  But times have changed, and I'm moving along with them.  A hungry kid sends me into a state of near-panic.  Getting food trumps everything.  Now, as a thirty-something, I don't complain if I taste a bit too much oregano or the sauce is a little too sweet.  I want "good," and "great" is a perk.  I care if my kid's food comes fast.  I care if she gets her milk before her food.  I care if activities are printed on the restaurant's paper placemat.

Naples is the perfect spot for a family that needs to eat fast, wants something delicious, and loathes the idea of McCrap in the car.  That I got a 10 percent discount with my Disney Annual Pass merely sweetened the deal!  I recommend Naples with all my Disney-love filled heart.  We'll definitely go there again!

Fashion Choices

Tonight's Review: Pants

In A Word: Fitting

Tonight I met my wonderful friend Christopher at Cafe Tu Tu Tango at The Block in Orange.  We enjoyed some delightful appetizers, including a Baked Crab and Artichoke Dip with Lavosh Crackers.  I recommend.  It was yum.

Anyhoo, Christopher and I delighted in the epic people-watching from our patio perch.  We took several breaks from our rather serious conversation to, er, "comment" on the lovelies walking by.  I so badly wanted to capture some for posterity, but in an effort to maintain political correctness, I took only one photo.  I snapped my shot from behind my victim, and he was on the phone, so there's no way he was paying enough attention to get pissed at me.  Whateves.  Here's why I chose him.  While walking behind him, I watched him pull up, and adjust, his pants at least three times in one minute.  Remember folks, he was still on the phone.  He made a concerted effort to wear a pair of pants that were falling off.  Do I sound 100 years old?  When will pants-that-fit make a comeback for everybody?  Why dress so slovenly?  What is so wrong with looking put-together?  Why is the crotch of your pants at your knees?

I "get" the scene of big clothes.  I remember the SNL "cinch it with a belt" skit.  It's a look.  Here's what I don't get: pants that are so big that one can't walk comfortably without constantly adjusting, preventing the pants from falling to their ankles.  Seriously, nobody but you needs to see your boxers.  Nobody but you needs to know the exact shape of your derrier.  Pull up your pants.  Get some pants that fit.  Save yourself the worry and stress of constant adjustments.  You look like a jackass.

A New Focus?

Last night, I really enjoyed writing reviews of the books I read.  And that sort of gave me an idea.

I'm going to change the focus of my blog from completely random experience to writing reviews of my personal experiences.  I may review a book or a movie.  I may discuss a favorite blog.  Sometimes, I might offer an opinion about a coffee date.  My life will be in constant review.  We'll see how it works out.

Here's What's Up...

First:  I got glasses.  And I just may love them.  I can read again, and that's pretty much my fave-o pastime.  Other than running.  But I don't really do that before bed.  I think they're just nerdy enough to be chic.  I'm not taking a photo of myself right now, though, because my face is all moisturized and shiny after my shower, and I look greasy.  So, you'll have to wait.

Second:  I'm reading like a fiend.  I've taken a liking to non-fiction.  Apparently, I've been craving facts.  Here are my reviews of my recent reads.

Home: A Memoir of My Early Years, by Julie Andrews.  In a word: Captivating.  She is amazing.  As both a singer and a fan, I feel a deep love for this woman.  Her voice conjures the happiest memories of my childhood, and now it is weaving it's way into my children's memory.  Her story is just as enchanting, albeit surprising.  Her writing style mirrors her eloquence, grace, charm, wit, and self-depreciating humor, and serve to make this book a delightful read.

Nothing to Envy: Ordinary Lives in North Korea, by Barbara Demick.  In a word: Jesus.  Ms. Demick profiles six North Korean defectors as they struggle through, and out of, the most opressive regime on Earth.  Part history lesson, part biography, Nothing to Envy illustrates the unfathomable desperation in the ordinary lives of North Koreans.  She successfully explains how North Korea's political failures have lead to specific problems such as famine, homelessness, crime, and apathy.  Personally, this book captivated me.  I read it in two nights.  Ms. Demick evokes from the reader sympathy.  She reminds us that these people, these North Koreans, are victims of a madman's vision, and that the results of his vision are unforgivable crimes against humanity.  She reminds us that these people are humans, with lives and ambitions and families.  That what the mothers want most is to feed their children.  That they seek love and relationships and friendships and stability.  And like all human beings, they are entitled to it.  She reminds us that they are people, just like us, and that when the Koreas are united again (it's probably going to happen in my lifetime), we, as a world, must be ready to help.  Everyone should read this book.

I just started Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil.  It's pretty funny, and he's got a quirky style that currently suits me.  Maybe it's the glasses.

What else, what else, what else...

Oooh, I'm going to Disneyland with Alexandria on Monday and I can barely contain myself.

Aaaand, I've taken to my sewing machine again.  Handbags, this time, I think.  In the past, I've made lovely double sided flannel swaddling blankets, flannel burp cloths, and bibs.  I knitted scarves, too.  I can still do all that, if you want me to.  But grownup girls need some love.  So I'm making super affordable, summery handbags.  Cute, simple, and fun, and they're on the way.

A note on this post:  I kind of jumped around on this post.  But that's how I roll.  There's so much in the world to learn and know and see and do, and it's all we can do to contain ourselves each day.  Here's my philosophy, in a nutshell.  I rarely do things in a nutshell.  If it's fun, I'll do it.  If it's well written, I'll read it.  If it tastes good, I'll probably eat it.  Maybe just once, but I'll try.  The human experience is available to us for such a short amount of time, and we get to enjoy it with limited resources, we are almost obliged to max it out.  Do what you have to do to make every day amazing.  Use the gift of your life.

Best Answer Ever

Alexandria has been sick lately. It's unusual because she's never sick.  For three years, she's been bomb-proof.  She's never been more ill than a fever, and up until two weeks ago, she'd never needed antibiotics.  Currently, she's making up for lost time.  Here's what she's fought:

• nasty cold, which turned into an
• ear infection
• rash
• hives
• UTI

Doctor visits, sleepless nights, pharmacies, childcare, work, tears, pain.  Needless to say, the last two weeks have been nothing short of exhausting.  So I stayed overnight at my in-laws last night.  When I woke up this morning and asked Alexandria what she wanted to do today, she said, "Nothing."

That was the correct answer.  Amen. 

The Spectrum

Today started out fine enough. The kids were in a great mood, Dave made me a delish breakfast of scrambled eggs and toast with peanut butter, and I got held up in a hair of traffic. But it was fine because my commute is from Ventura to Santa Barbara and back, and the weather was unbelievable and the air was clear and it was sunny and it's February. So, like I said, it started out fine enough.

This isn't a photo from my drive today, but it's as close as I could get. Give me a break already.

Then, I decided to go for a run on my lunch break. It's one of my New Year's Resolutions. To run on my lunch break. So I went for a run on my lunch break. I headed out and took a turn and ran by the high school, and then...

...when I lived with my friend Jason in La Habra, one of my favorite runs took my by a high school...

...I started to cry. Not big heaving sobs or anything, but real tears and genuine sadness and missing my friend. And then it kind of passed.

And then Pandora played "I'll Remember" by Madonna, and I had to take another moment to myself. I took a little longer to recover.

I kept saying last year, "I just want to get to the one year mark." I felt like getting past the first year of the grief of losing a friend would be that great milestone, and then I sort of figured I wouldn't be sad anymore. That I wouldn't cry anymore.

But that's not how grief works. Sometimes, right when you're doing something you love, it comes all at once and washes over you like a tsunami, and it brings you to your knees, and the kicker is, is that after the moment passes, nothing changes. The anguish and sadness of it being the way it is lingers, like wet jeans on cold skin. And things will never be completely right with the world again for me, because this is a wrong that can't be righted.

Then, I picked up my kids, and the promise of new little lives brings an upwelling of happiness. Hot sleepy breath on my neck.

Tiny hands. Limp, tired legs.

Every possibility in the world sits and waits,

waits,

waits,

for their eyes to open tomorrow morning.

My Hand, Reaching Through the Ether...

Dear Gamble: Party of Four,

I miss you. I miss writing. I miss posting photos. You pass through my mind every day, and I try to make some time for you, but something, or should I say, a couple of someones, generally occupy the time and space I require for you.

And work. That generally sucks the life out of my soul.

But I digress. I'd like to take this opportunity to "out" the culprits, 'cause they're really stinkin' cute.

So anyway, that's what's been going on. A whole lotta cuteness and almost one-year-old-ness and Super-Three-Year-Old-ness.

And I started working out again. Fr srs. Like I'm training for something. Maybe something big.

OK, so maybe if I get two more minutes in the next month, I'll update. In fact, I promise (and that's not going to be one of those Mary Poppins "pie crust promises...easily made, easily broken" promises, either). This is a for realsies promise. I'm going to start posting again because I love it and enjoy it and have so much to share. But again, it's only if I find two minutes in the next month.

Miss you, and loves,

Natalie

It Feels Like Yesterday

Nine years ago today, Dave and I went on our first date. I can't believe it's been that long! According to these people, the appropriate gift for the 9 year anniversary is:

You sure took a nice picture of things I like.

Sadly, it is not awesome flea market finds. It's pottery.

If that doesn't work for you, try this:

This looks like a nice place to camp. Wouldn't you agree?

It's a willow.

I was hoping that the 9th anniversary was fabric, because then it would justify the boatload I just brought home from JoAnn. But it's not, so I'm kicked to the curb on this one.

Anyway, here are the problems with the suggested items:

1. Dave would not "get" the pottery. He might look at me cross-eyed if I brought home milk pitcher or a plant in a pot and said, "Happy Anniversary." He would say, "I don't get it." He would not understand the "sweet gesture" part of it.

2. We have a very small back yard, so the tree is a definite no-go.

So here I am, back to square one. All that research (3 minutes, y'all) plus a blog post (10 minutes, y'all) for what? Nothing but a couple of laughs. And what's that worth?

Priceless.

Happy Anniversary, Dave!