Letting Go...

...is probably the hardest thing to do at times. Yet, we all have to do it for various reasons at different stages in our lives. Sometimes I'm amazed how I've lived my entire life with all my belongings in one small cupboard shared by two boarders and one bedding. When it was time to let go of that, I moved into our 1100 sq ft flat in Kolkata with one room complete with a desk, bed and armoire entirely to myself. It felt very complete and even though there didn't seem enough space in the room to walk around - it felt like I had everything I need. Out here in the US life began with big dreams - the US dream of a four bedroom house and two car garage with a big backyard and we didn't take much time to move into a 2300 sq ft house and once again furnished it to its fullest. 

Now I realize the excess. Everywhere I look around me I see 'stuff' more than half of which we really don't need in any way or form. Its time to dig deeper and free myself from this materialistic clutter I've created around me. I thought it would be an easy fix. I was wrong. As I put furniture and other personal things on sale and see them go away one at a time, I can't help but feel a bit of sadness and loss. Feeling this way has taken me by surprise since I never knew I was attached to them this way.

Tonight as my formal living area lets go of its last piece of furniture I convince myself change is a good thing and this will be good for me in the long run.

"Ohm"

What's in My Fridge?

PEE. Yes, you heard right - I have PEE in my fridge, aka URINE. Ah, the joys of parenthood!

Anyone else grossed out?

So before I put it in the fridge (as per doctor's advice and not some sickening pleasure you think I'm deriving out of this), I actually debated whether I should let it cool to room temperature first and exactly how many ziplocs would I need for this. I'm on a budget here, so I ended up using only one. As for the cooling - the fridge took care of it I suppose.

Welcome to my week. A week of endless fever (starting Saturday night and still persisting), sleepless nights, two antibiotics, two bottles of Tylenol, endless (I'm probably going to be using this word too many times in this post) whining, 0 sick days now moving on to vacation days (I hate to admit that this is what is probably disturbing me most) and now I have urine sample in my fridge. And all of this might persist for 48 more hours (minus the pee thankfully). Hell yes, I'm CRANKY!!!

It started off as a sinus infection. The first antibiotic probably didn't work. Now the congestion is in her chest and there is a possibility of urine infection. So she's on her second antibiotic and we can only hope this will work. Poor baby is miserable from being sick.

Scene at the Paul residence

Thanks to all my FB friends who tried to guess what I had in my fridge. Hope you are all grossed out now - I am surely deriving some pleasure out of this  :)

To those local friends (minus one) who knew E was sick and didn't bother to call/email - this mom who is single during the week is PISSED (pun intended)!

At this point I'm just glad I drink red wine and it doesn't need to be refrigerated.

Blah blah blah blah blah

Yes, I know I need to finish my series on boarding schools and it would be wrong to say I don't have the time. The fact is when I do have the time I just want to...well, do nothing! Most nights I've been falling asleep by 9pm out of exhaustion and not the physical kind. My brains are fried from having listening to my daughter talk and ask questions continuously for five or six hours straight. Her hand always gets tired after maybe 5 spoonfuls of food into her mouth. How come her mouth doesn't get tired from all the talking I'm still to figure out. I know I sound like a horrible mother, but I need this to stop asap - duct tape anyone?

There are times I think she tests if I am listening. She will ask me a question knowing very well my answer will be no. But after maybe an hours worth of listening I have of course tuned out and without even knowing what she is asking for I just nod trying to show I'm listening. Right at that moment she will try to snatch whatever device I have in my hand and get my attention by asking why she is allowed to do so and so. Now after hearing what she really wants I have to take back my nod (yes) and say no. Now what follows is a whole set of why's and this time I have to answer all of them so that I stay consistent with the lesson I'm trying to provide which at this point I'm utterly confused about. Make sense? No? Welcome to my life.

Yesterday I took her for a walk after school. At the end of it I wasn't tired of walking as much as I was from listening and trying to answer a million questions.

Today she is sick and at home, which means six additional hours of talk time. Which means wine alone will not do the trick.

For all my friends updating their status on FB with all your fun travel plans for this long weekend - anyone want to take this opportunity to show me what a TRUE friend you are and take E along? :)

Photo from our walk yesterday by E.
However many seconds it took to take the photo was the ONLY time she wasn't speaking.

Growing Up in a Boarding School - Amen!

I've probably never been as exposed to religion in my entire life as I was during my first four years of boarding school at Pratt. We knelt by our beds every night to say a prayer as well as before every meal. Our school had a Church that we visited every Sunday morning and I learned to sing hymns from the Bible and make a cross in the air with my hand. I was too young to grasp the concept of religion then, but I do remember looking forward to going to Church. It was a chance to escape the four walls of the hostel and come in contact with the "outside world". I also loved the architecture, the stained glass and how the Church smelled. After Church I went to special Bible class by choice because I was intrigued by all the stories. I knew all about Christianity before I knew anything about Hinduism.

So naturally Christmas was big at my school. Before we closed for the Holidays, the boarders put up an annual show and party. Imagine my excitement when I was told I would be the "Guiding Star" and would be in costume and makeup. The play was going to depict Jesus being born and only a handful of junior dorm students were selected to be in character and I was one of them. I was elated. However, Jesus must have noticed my yawns at Church and I fell sick right before the play. High temperature had me lying in bed at our "Sick Room" for days and I missed rehearsals. One evening Tota came to visit me and let me know that she was given my role. That night I cried - I was so sad. I did end up being in the play but as a last minute addition where I had to enter with a bunch of girls and skip and hop and leave. I was not in costume and had to wear one of my own outfits.



It still intrigues me how I did not end up being all that religious after all of that. Maybe because I eventually realized that people think being religious makes up for all the wrong they do. However, I am thankful for the life I've had, the experiences that have taught me so much, loved ones and now my daughter. In the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit - amen!

Growing Up in a Boarding School - The Dining Experience!

I cannot remember if getting into the groove of things at Pratt was easy or
difficult. My memory of those first few years is somewhat fuzzy. I stayed
there for about four years moving on to another boarding school, but more on
the move in future installments.

Apart from sleeping in an uncomfortable bed with a room full of total
strangers and using those common toilets and bath area I think the biggest
adjustment was the food. If you know anything about Bengali's you would know
we are all about our food. Our daily meals are pretty elaborate and
delicious and parents jump through hoops feeding their kids to make them
round and chubby. Before stepping into hostel life I did not quite appreciate
that of course. I used to be one of those kids not too keen on eating and
would take hours finishing one meal. It didn't take me long to realize the good life I'd left behind soon after I sat down for my first meal at the hostel.

The aluminum plates and a trolly with two large buckets filled with rice and daal respectively and some kind of vegetable concoction already served on those plates still manages to churn my stomach whenever I think of those days. Breakfast consisted of a runny porridge also served on plates which later somehow became my most favorite food at Pratt. Non-veg which consisted more of curry and less of meat was only served on weekends. One positive came out of this culinary experience - on my fist vacation back home I absolutely devoured anything that was served to me. From there on eating was never a problem and I could eat almost anything given to me without being picky. I truly began to appreciate food. Till date I hate wasting food - it reminds me of those days where I didn't have much to eat.

Talking about food - we did have a tuck locker back in our dorm area. This was the place which held the most precious of our possessions - little snack items that were sent from home. These were all kept locked and was given to us on weekends. I remember relishing each cream biscuit one lick at a time. There was also a guy who used to come to the hostel on weekends to sell cookies from his black trunk. He had these bright pink and white cookies that he sold for a few paisas. I would almost always spend my tuck money on those.

These days I'm served huge portions wherever I go to eat and I see the amount of food being wasted around me. It makes me sad and I remember those days as little girls when we would have given anything to eat the way we do now.

Growing Up in a Boarding School - The Beginning

My interview at Pratt Memorial School consisted of a spelling test. I had to
spell three words given to me by the principal. I had spelled one of them
wrong and was sad that I would not get admitted. The word was 'face' and I
had spelled it with an 's' even though I had known the spelling. Probably
because I was nervous. I was five.

I however did get admitted to that boarding school and was soon accompanied by pishimoni (aunt), ma (mom) and a black trunk filled with my belongings on my
first day there. I will come back to the trunk soon but right
away I need to tell you that I still remember the feeling I had in my
stomach that day as I was being dropped off. I did not shed a tear maybe
because I was too confused with the knots I was feeling deep inside me. It
was probably the calm before the storm - because later in my life there were
plenty of tears to make up for that one brave night and probably the most important moment in my life.

Coming back to the black trunk. It was an object of awe the very first time it came to the house. I don't know why exactly but maybe because it came with the significance of leaving home and entering into a brand new territory. I still remember my name and address being inscribed on it with white ink. It was like the most artistic and incredible thing I'd ever seen. Later that trunk became an integral part of my happy and sad moments both. It made me happy when it was brought out of the hostel storage - that meant I was going home on vacation and made me sad when I had to pack it at home at the end of a month long vacation.

But I digress. This post is about my first day at boarding school and even though we didn't have cameras back then to record first days of everything in our child's life - I still have a crystal clear picture of that night. The boarding section of the school was situated on the third floor of the very old building. It was built during the Britsh Raj and had grand staircases and huge windows (more like doors) with green shutters. After you climbed up the stairs to the third floor you entered into a long corridor that led to the Matrons room on the other end of it. The three dorms (junior, intermediate and senior)ran parallel to the corridor on its right. Our lockers and shoe racks ran along the two walls of the corridor and that is where we all conglomerated every night to polish our shoes in preparation for the next day.

And I've digressed again. It was late evening when we arrived at the hostel. It was already dark outside and all the dorms were empty. My place would of course be in the junior dorm and while my aunt spoke with the matron and handed her my belongings I was asked to walk into the dorm to take a look. As I did, I noticed a solitary girl standing at the other end of the dorm looking out from the window. I went up to her and asked her her name. She had the same last name as mine and I took that as a sign and we became best of friends for the next few years. She told me that it was a special night and so all the other girls were in a common room watching TV. She stayed back because she was missing her mom who I found out some time later was no longer alive.

It was because of her my first day there didn't seem as bad. That night when I lay in my bed amongst almost a hundred other girls of different ages and backgrounds, I realized my life had just begun and little did I know those were the years that would make me who I am today.

Tota Bhowmik - wherever you are, this post is for you!

Following dreams

Thanks to my daughter I've watched the movie Tangled close to a hundred times (not an exaggeration)and surprisingly each time I've LOVED it and wished I was the lost princess who is finally able follow her dreams. One thing I've realized while growing up is that I have always lived a life that was deemed right and proper by someone else. Even the dreams were more or less set for me. I'm not saying I've had a bad life - but it was mostly not of my own choice. I think a lot of my friends from India have been in similar situations and felt the same way, yet we always end up doing what we think everyone else will think is right. Now that I am a mother such expectations are much greater. Every step I take I have to be convinced I am doing the right thing for her.

Deep down inside I know whatever I do, I will always have her best interest in mind and will not love her any less. I hope she grows up living her dreams and knows it is okay for everyone else around her to do so. As we sit and watch Tangled for the 101st time and she tries to braid my hair, I foresee a strong, beautiful and independent girl following her dreams just like the lost princess Rapunzel (even though her hair takes forEVER to grow):)

Happy 4th readers and here's hoping you are all following your dreams or are at least trying to do so.

My Last Wish(es)

Okay, so according to Harold Camping the world comes to an end tomorrow which is all fine and dandy and I plan to have an equally “exciting” life with the zombies but I quite honestly don’t want to be stuck within gray cubicles my last day. I definitely want to be in a beach sipping cocktails as per my FB status RIGHT NOW! Okay – have to admit it has nothing to do with the world ending and all – I want to be on a beach and not working – ANYWAYS! But if the world were to end I would be pissed because there are too many things on my to-do list before I die:

• African Safari
• Taj Mahal on a full moon night
• Dinner at the Caves in Jamaica
• Houseboat stay in Kashmir
• A few nights at the Udaipur Palace
• Palace on Wheels
• Backwaters of Kerela
• Trek (whatever I can) the Himalayas
• Go on a date with George Clooney, Brad Pitt, Saif Ali Khan and Aamir Khan (I’ve been dreaming of them lately – maybe it’s a sign!)
• Learn belly dance, hip-hop and kathak
• Get into a size 4 dress
• Get my nose pierced – yes, AGAIN
• Learn to bake – I WILL eventually
• Shop irrespective of what’s on sale
• Be the world’s best mom
• Adopt a child
• Contribute to society to my best abilities
• Eradicate folks who have nothing better to do than proclaim the world is coming to an end.

• And most importantly TRAVEL THE WORLD and Win a lottery!


I’m sure I’ve missed many things (as I said, way too much to do before I die) but it was fun trying to think of all the things I still want to do. Also, I’m just waiting what these folks will have to say on Sunday. :)

An Encounter

You know you’ve been married to the same guy for way too long when...

...you are at the ATM depositing a check and you smell the most sensuous cologne that makes you turn around and want to hug what you see. :)

Fame & Fortune

When I was in high school, my grandparents once had a puja at their house that I of course arrived late to after my day in school. It worked out perfect since it was time for Prasad and I gorged on ‘luchi’ and ‘payesh.’ While eating I eyed my grandmother whisper something to the pundit’s ear. Later when he came up to me and took my palm in his hand I knew exactly what my grandmother had said.

So in the middle of a large room full of relatives and relatives of relatives (you get what I’m trying to say here) my future was bestowed upon me. The lines of my palm revealed both fame and fortune in my future. Well of course that made me want to believe in palmistry and made me very very happy till the wait got only too long.

In case you were wondering…I ended up with neither. The reason behind this sudden spark of memory being a recent invitation to judge the DHIM-TANA music and dance competition in the bay area where I was told I would be aired on TV 9 both here and in India. Imagine my reaction – finally chances of becoming famous!!! So what if it was only in Andhra? I just might become a Tollywood star and then maybe move on to Bollywood! The doors to fame were opening. I could almost see that pundit’s face. I was sooo close.

Well, let’s just say it didn’t go as planned and I ended up coming back to my ordinary life writing for my ordinary blog. The camera did not pan to where the judges were seated, as it remained focused on the stage. But all jokes apart, I’m glad it was that way. The young talent I saw on stage that day was quite breathtaking as well as inspiring. Once I was able to get past the Carnatic music competition (no offence…its just not for me!) my eyes, just like the camera, were glued to the stage. The melodious voices, breathtaking dances and exuberant costumes blew my mind and showed the hard work and commitment these kids ranging from as young as 6 years to teenagers were capable of. I just wanted to take this opportunity to let our kids know we are very proud of you and all that you achieve in your lifetime. I’ve barely achieved half of what you already have and nowhere close.

My only hope for that day’s performers is that amidst your race for becoming doctors and engineers may you not lose sight of the amazing talent you have and hope some of you will continue to keep your art form alive. And even though I don’t know a damn thing about palmistry, but some of you out there, if you keep doing what you are, you have a pretty good chance of fame and fortune in your future. By all means you were all stars in my eyes.

I Do Exist

Yes, I know I just dropped off from the face of this earth or so it seems. Quite honestly, I am still playing catch up ever since I returned from vacation. Ah yes, vacation, need more of those in my life. What an incredible trip it was with my little one. 2 countries, 3 cities, 2 weddings and 2 dance workshops all in three weeks. Friends, family and food galore. Some friends I met after nearly a decade. That's how long I've been in Sacramento and yet every time I go back it seems like it was just the other day.

So much has happened since I got back that I cannot wrap my thoughts around all of it at the moment. I received a call this morning from a friend in India who was wondering why I stopped writing and so I thought I'd at least make a reappearance. I'm sad I missed Evani's turning 4 post. Life has been incredibly busy, but here's hoping I will stop to smell the roses.

Featuring Penn Masala

In order to distract myself and my readers from the previous post photo - here is some cuteness~ can I get them for my birthday??? lol!

Minus 20

The journey started in February of this year after I saw the below photograph that made me cringe. I was mad for what I had done to myself and had no one but myself to blame and so I made a promise to get off my lazy ass and do something about it.



As of this morning I am 20 lbs lighter and three dress sizes smaller and extremely proud of myself for getting here. The path has been very challenging but very very rewarding at the same time since it did not involve personal trainers, fad diets or pills but pure hard work and dedication. I even posted this photo hoping it will motivate me to NEVER want to go back to being that size ever again.

A lot of you have asked me recently how I’ve lost all this weight and to all of you my answer has been same – working my butt off. Many of you have not believed me (I can tell) and think there is something I am not sharing. But seriously, I am not. It just doesn’t sound too good to hear you have to really work hard to lose weight. What you want to hear is ‘try this diet or try this new pill and you will see results in two weeks, that’s how I lost weight!.’


I know a lot of my friends are trying to lose weight and trust me when I say I would love to help you. But you have to remember that you have to help yourself first and foremost. Also, everybody is different, and it is up to you to figure out what works and does not work for you.

Here are a few things that worked for me and I’ve learnt in the process:

• Educating myself on proper nutrition and fitness. I continue to refer to Fitness Magazine, Jillian Michaels online newsletter and Everyday Health. The great thing about these are that they are all free and online newsletters with great tips and even exercises. They’ve also helped me stay motivated.
• Gym membership is not required. You will be surprised how you can do both cardio and strength training without stepping into a gym. So, if you do not have a membership or you don’t want to pay for one it should not stop you from working out. However, the gym was important to me to keep me motivated during my workouts. I also made use of the classes they offer and free training sessions they have occasionally. However, if for any reason I am not able to go to the gym, I can very well get an equal workout at home.
• Never go hungry or starve yourself. Eat every 2-3 hours, but eat healthy and in small portions. Trader Joes was a savior to me when it came to healthy snack options. Loving food the way I do, I never deprived myself of anything. I have occasionally gorged on stuff too. But for the most part I’ve made healthier choices. Depriving myself of food that I love makes it worse for me and makes me depressed, so I’ve never been successful at following any diets ever.
• Stay away from diets as much as you can. Eliminating a food group or type from your system is not the solution. Your body needs all food groups including carbs and fats. Choose the good ones and try to steer away form eating out. In most cases the ‘healthy” options provided by restaurants or fast food chains are really not healthy. Also, learn to read the labels of food stuff you purchase and what that means to your intake.
• Saying you are busy and have no time to work out is NOT going to help you. Trust me, I had no time up until I figured out I had an hour for lunch. Ever since I’ve worked out most lunchtimes instead of going out to eat or going shopping or even plain sitting at my desk browsing or working.
• Do not depend on a work-out buddy. It was a mistake I made starting out. Remember it is YOUR goal and only YOU can reach it. Get used to working out yourself and enjoy the “me time”.
• Add variety to your workout. Try new things. PLAY with your kids in the park – do the moneky bars with them. We all have desk jobs, so make your life away from the desk as much active and fun as possible. Throw in squats, lunges, pushups whenever and wherever you can. You can break up your workout into tiny slots throughout the day.
• Life will throw many things at you. You will be tired, sick, stressed, depressed and all of this will stop you from working out every now and then. Just remember, working out actually helps in all these situations. You come out refreshed with more energy feeling positive. This past year has not been the greatest one for me personally. A lot of negativity surrounded me and still does. However that’s what motivates me and working out always helps me get all those negative feelings out.
• It makes you a better parent. You can help educate your kids on making good food choices from the start and help them in enjoy an active life. Evani loves to stretch, do yoga and dance with me and I still get to spend time with her while working out.

Know that the ONLY way to lose weight and stay healthy is exercising consistently and eating healthy. For some of us it requires a few lifestyle changes. I’ve changed mine and hope you are able to change yours and believe you can do it too.

Storyteller

Translation: One night a deer was crossing the street at night. Then the deer got hit by a car. Then it looks like a fishy. Then go to doctor deer, oh, deer doctor. Then it got better. Then it went home. Then it did not feel sick anymore. The end.

This story is based on an encounter of a wounded deer on our way to Evani’s school one morning.

Joys of Motherhood

Yesterday was one of those days when you realize being a mom means having to let go. So the park I like to visit (for you know what reason) is going to become past tense after Evani had to go pee behind the bushes there last night and I was offered a hand sanitizer by you know who. Thankfully she had swim lessons, which helped my speedy and embarrassed exit thereafter.

And like one embarrassment wasn’t enough for the night, one her way back from the shower after swim lessons, madam drops our big bright towel right into the pool. Now I don’t know how she managed to do that since from where she was standing the towel should’ve dropped to the floor. Karma you say? For not wearing new clothes or visiting the temple during Durga Pujo?

I think our Karmas were all screwed up the day we decided to become moms…such joy!

My kind of Pujo

As the Goddess Durga steps foot on this earth and brings her children along for five full days of partying, (Oh c’mon! It IS a party for them. Being donned in the best outfits, doted on and fed throughout the day – that’s hell of a party for me), I often wonder what Durga pujo has meant to me and my family for several years.



I remember my grandfather and his search for the earplugs as the day commenced. He was extremely annoyed with the blaring microphones playing tasteless Bollywood songs. In fact he was annoyed with almost all Pujo celebrations, maybe because most of it was not related to worshiping Durga at all. The crowds, the noise and even the youth population knocking on every door asking for donations trying to raise money for the pujo in their community. He did enjoy going to my aunt’s who hosted a pujo at her house. There he was able to actually worship the Goddess in his own way and was one of those rare people who along with my uncle actually knew what the priest murmured.

My Grandmother on the other hand is what made the pujos so symbolic to me. We woke up to the sounds of an old radio playing Mahalaya or Pujo songs. She would have already had her bath and would be donned in a new and crisp white saree with a red border. She loved the bustle of the city during those days and would often sit in the varendah during the evenings and watch the streams of people out pandal hopping.

Pujo was special to me not because of the Goddess herself. But because it was time for Baba to visit Kolkata with a suitcase full of goodies for me. Also because school/hostel was closed for a month which meant I would be able to spend some uninterrupted time with him and get to take the taxi instead of the bus wherever we went. Truly, the simple luxuries of life back then. ☺

Then of course there was my aunt’s house where you could witness the actual (as in non-commercial) version of the pujo. It bustled with family, friends and neighbors non-stop for those five days. As I grew older, hanging out with my school friends and flirting with neighborhood dudes became of prime importance. Donning the latest Bollywood fashion, partying, eating good food and just plain “adda” equated to celebrating the pujos.

So, was there anything closely religious during Durga Pujo? To most people I knew or know, being religious is fasting till Anjali, eating vegetarian food with no garlic and onion, wearing something new (can even be your underwear) on the first day of puja, lip-syncing anjali mantras with no clue as to what it means etc…etc…

To me all of this is not religion. The practices we follow blindly have nothing to do with worshiping good over evil. Wasn’t that why the Goddess herself came to this earth? Then why do we harvest evil thoughts within ourselves? Why do we intentionally hurt others and why can we not stay together in peace and harmony as a community? How about this puja we embrace the true meaning of our religion. How about we adopt, volunteer, donate, inspire, or in other words really make a difference.

Happy Pujas!

Archies Gallery

A lot of Bangla Band songs revive age old memories. Today it was Bhalobasha by Porosh Pathor. "Bhalobasha maney Archies Gallery..." indeed!



I can still see the spic and span air-conditioned store with its big glass doors amidst all the dark and dingy stores of Gariahat. Entering Archie's Gallery meant stepping into this whole other world, mainly because it was a HUGE relief from the heat outside. Browsing cards took forever. Each card had to be read and reread in the quest to find one that said EXACLTY what you felt - be it for your best friend, lover or someone you wanted to convey 'we're just friends' or 'no strings attached'. There was a card in there for all kinds of emotions - and lots of emotions we did have back then. We saved our pocket money for such extravagant purchases in a time where expressing your feelings to our friends seemed to be more worthwhile than spending that money on some kind of fast food. The time we put into these cards were not limited to their duration of purchase but in their personalization with even more heartfelt hand written messages (as if those long verses in the card itself was not enough) and embellishments. We did this for all our dear friends, be it their birthday, friendship day, valentines day or no special day at all but just to say 'I'm glad we're friends' or 'you mean a lot to me'.

Today we stay in touch through Facebook and Blogs and often miss each other's birthdays. But I think we know we revisit our own memories of Archie's Gallery every now and then and in our hearts know that we still mean the world to each other.

Hamesha and forever…

Waking up to an overcast sky outside took me year’s back to class VI A of Gokhale Memorial Girls School where gloomy days meant dark classrooms, Kishore Kumar songs and a strong desire to fall in love. I can still hear Mondol (Dipa) or PaNchu (Panchali) singing ‘rim jhim gire sawan’ and can still see clearly our infamous gang positioned in the different spots in front of the windows looking out and getting lost in those dark clouds. If Manisha or Gargi di were bunking class that day for some reason, they would pop their heads out from the screen wall that partitioned the senior dorm from the classroom and join in the romantic mood. So many years have passed and yet these dark clouds here in Sacramento take me to that very same spot, amidst my friends forever.

I think the best part of my life was spent in those halls and classrooms of GMGS with an amazing group of friends who I miss dearly. Cannot wait to see you all early next year.

Rebirth

From lack of sleep due to her son’s early morning feedings, my best friend writes to me that in her next life if she is reborn a girl she will end up marrying a girl – that way she won’t have to deal with husbands or kids. That got me thinking what I wanted to be in my next life (and just for that I will believe in rebirth).

I want to be born a pet dog to a filthy rich celebrity. No husbands, kids maybe but I won’t have to take care of them, no work (that rules out being a guard dog) and all play, television and magazine appearances, gourmet food, designer clothes , mini mansions, and spa treatments guaranteed.

Happy long weekend everyone! woof…woof…

I'm off to the park!

I have a weakness on guys with a British accent (what can I say - after all we were ruled by them for so many years), especially if they are good looking. So when I met this dad in the park (both good looking and had an accent) I found a renewed interest in taking Evani there more often. ;) In my defense, how many Intel employees do you meet in Folsom with those two attributes? To top it all how many dads do you meet who religiously take their daughters to the park and talk to you about schools and their child’s extra curricular activities AND remember your daughter’s name? SIGH!!!

Well, I’m just glad I’m enjoying the park as much as Evani is. :)