Things Mom taught me:
- Write your thank-you notes on Christmas afternoon.
- Dress up for air travel.
- Eat a small salad with every dinner.
- When cracking open a blue crab, start with the candlestick.
- Sleep in.
- Never talk during Seinfeld.
- Wear lipstick. (One can always use a little color.)
- Never date a man who doesn't read.
- Add mayonnaise to your grilled cheese (before grilling).
- Always maintain your own checking account.
- Don't say the F-word too much, or it loses its power.
- Go to church.
- Never pair baby blue with brown.
- There is a Rolling Stones song to suit every occasion.
- If tired, depressed or otherwise blue, take a walk.
- Never put Jack Daniels in egg nog.
- When speaking to a customer service representative, be friendly.
- Don't keep bad friends.
- Cheese and crackers are a perfectly acceptable dinner.
"The world can’t end yet. I have too many books to read."
Happy birthday to my sweet mama! How do I love thee? Let me count the ways: When I was ten, my baby-sitter Lois took me to see The Baby-Sitters Club at the theatre, and I scarfed an entire large bucket of popcorn and later that night, threw up all over my bedspread, and Mom got out of bed to hose it down in the backyard, and she wasn’t even mad! She did that for me! And she said that when she croaks, she wants us to play Uncle Mick’s "She’s So Cold" when they carry her casket out of the church (not that that is every going to happen because she is going to live forever). She is a unicycle-riding, Fifty Cent-quoting bold bitch, and she is the best!!! Happy birthday, hot Peggity!
Well. This morning’s eBay hunt was a successful one! Instead of eight-point bucks (shout-out to my Missouri folk), I bagged the above Ralph Lauren Collection shoes, one of which is a much-needed staple (the black sandal circa Spring mid-aughts, still perfectly on point) and the other a long coveted relic from Spring 2004. That season’s collection was one of my all-time favorites here at RL—it kicked off with sharp black-and-white looks and then segued into a riot of candy colors, all in sporty silhouettes—so to own a piece of it (in mint condition!) feels so special. I can’t wait to rock that green sandal with a skinny white jean and white tank this summer.
Bad stuff, bad days, bad moods happen, and I swear, a good shoe at a great price is sometimes the only medicine.
"Don’t get mad. Get EVERYTHING."
Last Thursday: so thrilled when Karlie Kloss stormed down the runway at Ralph Lauren's show looking like a second-generation Elise Elliot (or Annie Paradis or Brenda Cushman). What an incredible Fall 2014 Collection! What a moment. (And what a movie.)
FrED PSA: Tuesdays are now reserved for Q&A.
Every other day will be a mess of random content, as always.
daisysoverdiamondsss asked: Hi there, do you happen to run ultra marathons?
Ran the Can Lake 50-Mile ultra last October. Jury is still out on a sophomore effort!
indiedreams asked: Curious about your opinion on minimums running shoes. I'm having trouble making a decision on a new pair and would rather not go with a thicker type of running shoe. Thanks!
Adidas’ Energy Boost is the best of both worlds. Trust me.
Anonymous asked: Getting ready to turn 30, ah! Suggestions for a great way to ring in a new decade!?
Without knowing where in the world you are, I can only make general recommendations: early morning workout, afternoon at the spa with your mom or best friend, then get a blowout, nails, and makeup, and go somewhere really fun (not necessarily fancy but fun) for dinner and drinks. Happy birthday!
"There is always one woman to save you from another and as that woman saves you she makes ready to destroy."
Charles Bukowski, Love Is a Dog From Hell
In honor of Valentine’s Day…
…this is the speech that I wrote and delivered at my friend Kate’s wedding this past New Year’s Eve.
One of the greatest mysteries is the bond that exists between a husband and his wife. Seven billion people in this world and an infinite number of pairs—mother to daughter, brother to brother, son to sister—but of all these great mysterious couplings, the greatest is that of a man and a woman wedded together.
Kate has been a best friend of mine for ten years now. I lived with her once, in college, and I could finish her sentences, I could almost read her mind—but I never did. Now Scott has known her half as long, just over six years, but he knows her better than anyone else in the world. And she knows him. And today, they not only join hands in marriage but become in the eyes of God, one—one pair made one whole person—two bodies, one heart, one mind, and the mystery of their bond grows.
Even since Homer’s Odysseus endured his famous sojourn in the Trojan War and on the Mediterranean Sea, absent for twenty years from his wife Penelope, great romantic love has been defined, it seems, by its fortitude in the face of adversity. Superhuman physical strength beats the odds for love in movie theaters the world over, in poetry and novels and our imaginations. In reality, it is not brute force that conquers all but the strength of getting up in the morning and facing every day loving this one person as much as you always did and always will in spite of real odds: growing older, raising children, earning a living, facing death and taxes and new life together.
Life will not be perfect for Kate and Scott, just as it never has been before, and though their dreams may not always come true—Kate will likely never become a ballerina nor Scott an astronaut—they will still find in that mysterious marital bond something extraordinary. No one but they will ever know or understand their love for each other or their secrets or their weaknesses; no one but Kate or Scott will ever know what it means to be Kate and Scott, and from that private knowledge, from that secret is, I think, where the strength of love is born. It is the only love that cannot be shared between anyone but Kate or Scott; it is theirs alone to cultivate, to evolve, to make fruitful.
Love is a cage and it is freedom, it is strength and weakness and joy and resolve, and, yes, love is patient and love is kind. Today, Kate and Scott will redefine their love for one another in a new and ancient way, and we—not knowing the mystery between them—can only guess and wonder, confident, at least, that they have each put themselves and the other in good hands for their odyssey that lies ahead.
Tuesday lessons: Buy yourself fresh flowers (because if you don’t, who will), send your friends valentines, and keep the Boss close.
- Emily: I have a confession to make. I ate three cookies today. Three very large cookies.
- Me: Oh, stop. I call that a Wednesday.
- Emily: But today is Thursday.
- Me: Well, I also call that Monday and Saturday.
- Emily: And Tuesday, sometimes.
We need to talk. Or rather, someone else needs to talk and I need to listen. I am the worst cook of all time. Every time I light a burner on my stove, an angel loses his wings. Every time I hunt for a spatula or a salad spinner or a nine-inch square Pyrex baking dish, someone, somewhere, denies his faith in God.
Sandwiches? Fantastic. Salads? Blue ribbon. Green juice? Get in line; I make the best green juice. But if a recipe calls for changing a foodstuff’s chemistry via high heat, go ahead and aim the fire extinguisher. It will save us all a lot of angst.
So what do I do about it? Or do I need to do anything? Do I even care? Do I even want to know how to sauté eggplant or cook a lasagna noodle? Someone, please, answer these questions!