Memory Day

This weekend, my girls made time capsules and buried them in the backyard.

(I actually did most of the digging.)

We pinky-swore to dig them up again on Memorial Day weekend, 2020.

I'm kind of hoping these pictures help us remember where we put them.



I have been so busy at work I haven't had time to blog. So yes, now you know that I usually blog on company time.

Such has been my stress level that I just broke down and used my first 5 free minutes in days to order a new pair of sandals. Because sometimes a girl just has to do that.


What I learned on my business trip

The air in Atlanta must be restorative, because an unusual number of people addressed me as "young lady."

Daytime soap operas were killed by the Farmville game on Facebook.

Having to rely on wi-fi is a real pain.

Hence, I obviously need an ipad.

Telling my boss, "My kids think you're mean for making me go on this trip," will result in him letting me put their souvenirs on the corporate credit card.

If you take all the written content produced between the beginning of time and the year 2003 -- that same volume of content is now being replicated every 48 hours.

Caviar is pretty tasty.

I needn't have worried about my clothes.

There are eleventy-billion varieties of Coca-Cola, including the one in the photo which bears my middle name.

Most of them taste pretty awful.

Facebook and twitter are old news; email marketers -- which I suppose is what I am now -- would be wise to pay close attention to Quora and Tumblr.

I'm not sure I want to be an email marketer.

It was nice to go someplace new and nice to sleep in a swanky hotel room.

It was really nice to come home again.


Instructions Needed

Mallory did one of those “Facts About My Mom” booklets for Mother’s Day. Among other things, she opined that “My mom’s personality is nice, quiet, and gentle.” Aww. Also: true! She also said “My mom’s hair is always perfectly in place.” Which: It’s nice she thinks so, but: false!

I took myself shopping on Mother’s Day, because I’m going to Atlanta next week for a conference and I have nothing to wear. Once I got to the mall, however, I realized that I didn’t know, at all, what to get. I really have no sense of style; I don’t know how to put an outfit together. I don’t know how to distinguish between “business casual” and “your elderly grandma.” I also don’t know what looks good on me. Bright colors? Black? Grey? I know to avoid, say, sleeveless tops, but should I also avoid v-necks? I found some pants that are super-comfortable and I think they look nice, but yesterday I wore them to work and spent the whole day worrying that maybe they looked too much like pajama jeans. (Also: I’m 5’5”, which means I am of exactly average height. So why are all pants too long for me? I take a pair of pants off the rack and they’re at least 5 inches too long. Even the “Short” lengths are sometimes too long. Do I have bizarrely short legs? Should I start wearing heels? I don’t know!) (Also: my new pants really don’t look like pajama jeans.)

I am similarly at sea when it comes to hair and makeup. I have never had a decent hairstyle. Some days my hair looks nice, but it’s not necessarily because of anything I do – it’s just luck. I think if I were able to say, with conviction and knowledge: “My hair is thick but doesn’t have much volume, and tends to frizz, [or whatever]” then I’d be able to guide a stylist into giving me a good haircut. But in fact I’m not sure what my hair “is.” And makeup? Sometimes I notice other women’s eyeshadow and think: That looks nice, but how on earth did she do that, in that way? And let’s not even get started on my nails.

It’s not that I’m fishing for compliments, by the way; I don’t need anyone to reassure me that I am, at least, presentable on most occasions. I’m not a great beauty and that’s okay; and if looking “better” would mean – as I assume it would – spending more than 12 minutes getting ready every morning then I’m not really interested. I just sometimes feel that I missed a memo, a magical memo that most girls get that explains all this stuff. If you have it, can you send it my way?


Sweetness and Mess

Phoebe: My mom burned her mouth really bad on a baked potato, so last night all she had for dinner was ice cream.

Phoebe's friend: Wow, I wish I were your mom.

Phoebe: No...you really don't. Because sometimes, she has to clean up really gross stuff in the bathroom.

Happy Mother's Day!