The New Adventures of the Not so Old Steph

The Pressure Cooker

2012-02-18T08:15:00.003-05:00

In the one month that we've been in our new home, we have hosted a Super Bowl Party and a birthday party sleepover. Not bad considering we are still not completely unpacked.

We both love to entertain and our new home is perfect for it with so many open spaces. I love to scour over food blogs looking for the perfect recipes and once the menu is set, Matt works on the wine pairings. The kids even get into it now too and like to pair their special meals with Italian Soda from Whole Foods. This magnet pretty much sums up why I love to cook.

I have been stressing about the menu for our dinner guests tomorrow night. For a week.

Why?

My brother is bringing his girlfriend over who is visiting from Toronto over for the first time. We are the only family that is going to meet her since my Dad and V are at the beach condo for the winter and my sister lives in New Mexico.

AHHH!!

Why am I so stressed? Because my mother would have been. And not about meeting her or checking her out or anything like that. My mom would have wanted her to feel welcome and comfortable and of course served an incredible meal.

So that's what I'm setting out to do.

I made sure there were no dietary restrictions (thankfully none.)

Okay, now what? Why has this been so hard? This stuff usually comes to me pretty quickly. After searching on the iPad for hours, I finally expressed my frustration with Matt. He said, "Check the weather."

Are you kidding me, check the weather?

Okay, it worked. Once I checked the weather a comfort meal menu with a twist came to mind. Today is my first day of vacation, my first day to sleep in and I was up at 6:00 a.m. pouring over recipes on my favorite cooking blogs and discovered an amazing new one, Simply Cooking, which I got most of the menu from.

Today I will go to 3 grocery stores to get all of the ingredients, but I don't mind at all. I LOVE doing stuff like this, love it. My first words to Matt when he woke up this morning were, "I need a bottle of Zinfnadel and some pancetta" and I'm pretty sure he told me I was going to be the best wife in the world by saying those words to him first thing in the morning.

I am looking forward to spending a better part of the day in the kitchen tomorrow preparing caramelized greek yogurt onion dip, braised roast with Zinfandel sauce, roasted baby carrots, garlic mashed potatoes and Oreo peanut butter brownie cakes for our special guests. It is something my mom would have done and somehow, thankfully, she passed that along to me.

Music is essential while cooking and the Jessica Lea Mayfield station on Pandora is one of my favorites to cook to. I just found out JLM got hitched over the holidays and while I am so happy for her, a part of me was so sad. You see JLM writes the most depressing you broke my heart and I'm crying in my Miller Lite beer but still love you songs ever. A unique combination of country/alternative/indie/folk rock. Is she still going to be able to produce such great anthems of love gone bad? We'll wait and see, but until then, this song is off her second album and made many Best of lists last year. I've seen her play with this band and they were sooooo good.

She's a Bad Bridezilla Mama Jamma-Not!

2012-02-15T20:10:00.003-05:00

So, I'm getting married. 5 months from yesterday to be exact.

I'm sure many of you were expecting detailed, I want to pull my hair out then vomit in the toilet, entries about my wedding planning.

If you look back, I didn't even write one about getting engaged. I mentioned it. But OMG, did the fiance ever get the ring right. Custom made by my favorite jeweler, completely non-traditional. Ok, maybe I'll write about the ring one day.

Anyways, I was given strict instructions not to be a Bridezilla by my 10 year old daughter. Even though we love to watch Bridezillas together.

I knew I really didn't have it in me to be one, but I love watching them and reading all about them. It is my new addiction.

So tonight when the I said the following, Matt got this look of terror in his face that said my fiance is showing first signs of Bridezillaitis.

Matt: "Lay down next to me just for a minute before we clean the kitchen."

Steph aka Bridzillita (I gave it a Latina flavor): "I can't. I have to send the colors and information to the invitation designer so she can get proofs ready for the cake testing next week then I have to confirm with the photographer the engagement photo shoot then email the make up artist and hair stylist to up the time they are arriving then email my dad to confirm blocking hotel rooms then make appointments next week to take Amelia to get a bridesmaid dress and get back to the woman who might be designing the flower girl dresses."

Okay, I actually only told him half of that because I knew if I actually said the rest out loud, I would find myself with an Oxygen crew in my house filming the next episode of Bridezillas. Small diversion here, I almost did make it on a tv show but they contacted me too late; I had already bought a dress. But we still love you Randy!!!

Really, wedding planning is not that hard and dare I say it, has actually been fun. We got to try out fabulous new restaurants in finding a place for the reception because going into this one thing was certain; the food and wine would be top notch. Matt enjoyed working with the jeweler in designing my ring. I showed him one photo by our photographer and he was completely sold. I found an incredible make up artist who does a lot of Indian weddings and has lots of experience working with women with darker skin. I bought the first dress I tried on and only went to one shop. When I found what I knew was the perfect invitation, I showed Matt and he immediately agreed. The cake we put in the hands of our 10 year old wedding coordinator and all of that Cake Boss and Cupcake Wars watching nicely paid off. The cake artist we are working with received national attention 1 month later after we hired her for a life size Storm Trooper cake. I am very anti-flower (have been after my mom's death, and our house was bursting with flowers, the smell of flowers makes me sick but I do think they are beautiful, just don't make me smell them) and found a funky florist in Jamaica Plain who is going to work with me in creating non flower wedding arrangements (I think he loved the idea that I was seriously considering Chia Pet centerpieces.) The decision as to who to ask to marry us was so easy and I promise you that will be one of the best entries I will ever write. Trust me. Coming soon.

When it comes down to it, our big decisions will be over the actual menu and the wine list.

And for me personally, my shoes. Seriously, its going to take me longer to find the perfect pair of shoes than it did to find my dress. Mr. Choo, work your magic please.

The one thing I've learned in this process is, go with your gut and what feels right for you and your beloved. I tried on 4 dresses, two very beautiful and traditional and two very beautiful and untraditional. When I came out in this drop dead gorgeous, full length strapless ballroom gown with a black velvet sash, everyone gasped and I will admit, even I was shocked at how Princess Bridish I looked. But my sister saw right through it. She said, "Look how you walked out, you wobbled. The first dress (the funky one) made you look happy. You were so happy in that dress." She was right. I walked out like a pregnant penguin in the traditional one (damn thing was so heavy) and in the other I twirled around like a ballerina. That experience taught me, do what feels right, this day is about you and the one you love. So please remember that if you are at my wedding and you are staring at a Chewbacca Chia Pet Head in the middle of your table.

One thing is for certain, music, all types of music, will play a big role. It's me, of course it will. This delicious song comes on Earth, Wind and Fire Pandora almost every time I'm listening to it while running. It comes on, and I start dancing with my upper body, grooving away. I'm sure people think I have a strange running form or something. If only they still made songs like this; Carl Carlton (I mean, how can this man not be a funk genius with a name like that?) please come out of retirement.

Lessons from The Lat Monster

2012-02-13T20:13:00.002-05:00

This is the first post in a new series I'm calling, "Lessons from The Lat Monster" aka really stupid stuff I see in the gym. Matt nicknamed me Lat Monster because apparently my lats like to take over other muscles I'm supposed to be using and I have spent the last year trying to wake up those other muscles.

I belong to two commercial gyms (don't ask) and am there either running, walking, taking a Zumba class, martial arts class and/or lifting 6x a week. I don't have any sort of degree in a related field but after spending years training at CP and now engaged and training with a strength and conditioning AND track coach (really, how did that happen) that scares me at how thorough and smart he is (quick diversion, I'm running again-yes, start singing choruses of Hallelujah right now- and if it wasn't for his programming and at times annoying (because I didn't necessarily like what he was having me do) knowledge and problem solving, I simply wouldn't be. I'm not just saying nice things because he is my future husband and he does the dishes every night, I'm saying it because it is the truth. Amen.

Where was I?

Right, I am in no way an expert, but I know enough to know when things are just plain stupid. Stupid is a strong word and I discourage my kids from using it, but there really is no other word to describe some of the stuff that I see. If I have one piece of advice for anyone, athlete, quasi athlete, gym rat, gym hater, it is to get an assessment by a credible coach on how you move. Period. I want to scream every time I see or hear people take about doing what I call a "cookie cutter" program that they found on the internet, got in a magazine or a book. 9 times out of 10 there is going to be something in there that isn't good for your body in particular. Something that is focusing on something that you don't need to focus on and should be focusing on something else. Invest and educate yourself on your body. You may not be interested in long term personal or group training which is completely fine, but you owe it to yourself to know you. Case in point, when I decided to do Warp Speed, I hired Scary Coach aka Brian to customize it for me because I knew my back wouldn't be able to do a lot of it.

Off my soap box now.

Lesson 1: If your coach/trainer is having you do something without weights, fire them. Like yesterday.

I shake my head every time I see trainers have their clients squat. Without weights. You might as well just sit on a toilet 18 times a day and call it a day. Yesterday I saw something that left me speechless and for those of you who know me, that rarely happens.

There was a woman doing the Prolwer. This ladies and gentleman is the Prowler, aka sled. It has brought tears to many (including myself.) This woman here is an inspiration to all; check out the plates.

I love you!

Where was I in my story. Woman pushing the Prowler, yes. I've seen her before working with a trainer there that, well, let's just say....You know what, we won't even go there. So she's pushing the Prolwer. Without any weight. None at all. She does 2 runs and then tells her friend, "I've been working with ________a lot and think I can add some weight." I am thrilled at this revelation; maybe she was just warming up or scared. She was ready now to add some plates.

She added 5 lbs.

5 lbs.

My Louis Vuitton pocketbook that I carry around all day weighs more than that.

I think Matt just ate 5 lbs of the hake and broccolini that I just made for dinner.

Another victim of the women don't use heavy weight syndrome.

Of course 3 sled runs were at the end of my program that day. I actually felt kind of bad after she was done and I started loading the plates on to the sled for my runs.

90 lbs.

I wanted to tell her, you can do this too honey, trust me. And while you're at it, fire your trainer.

My point is not I am so much better because I pushed 85 more pounds than her. My point is, don't be scared of heavier weights, question your coach/trainer, ask him or her why am I doing this? For the record, my 10 year old daughter has pushed the sled with more than 5 lbs on it so if she can do it, anyone can. While looking for some sled images, I found video of a 70 year old woman pushing more than 5 lbs, more like 50+. Way to go Grams!

Everyone has different goals and capabilities. Know them, know your comfort and discomfort zone. But no matter what, never, ever pick up a 5 lb weight and call it weightlifting.

Last night was The Grammy's. I'm still giddy after Arcade Fire won Best Album last year. Needless to say, I was supergiddy when I saw that the brilliant Bon Iver won Best New Artist (even though he's really not new.) I'll never forget the first time I heard this song. Matt and I were driving into Boston and the sky was this beautiful rust orange as the darkness of the evening was setting in. We both waited eagerly for the first notes of the new cd and when we heard the first two minutes, we knew that this new chapter of Bon Iver was full of light.

Saw a Glimpse of the Future

2012-02-12T08:06:00.009-05:00

Last night we went out to celebrate Valentine's Day at one of Boston's best Italian restaurants (and not your chicken parmesan Italian, more like Rabbit Ragu Italian.) We had been looking really forward to our date because we've both been extremely busy with work with lots of commitments in the evening and lately have been having 8:00 dinners the nights the kids aren't with us. Not to mention that the previous night we had hosted 5 13 year old boys for a sleepover.

Yesterday, I got two glimpses of love in two very different stages. After an appointment, I met a friend for what I can only describe as the most luxurious mani/pedi of my entire life (hot stone food massage, Paraffin treatment and neck message included.)

As I was getting my nails done it was hard not to ignore the two very angry and disillusioned young moms sitting next to me. Both had multiple kids under the age of 5 and husbands who weren't home a lot. I heard frustrations about being underappreciated, not being valued, feeling unsupported and though they didn't express it, underloved. They both kept saying, "Men are just stupid." As if being stupid was some kind of excuse. Their plans of actions terrified me; instead of communicating their needs and frustrations, they planned to treat their husbands they way that they were being treated. Part of me wanted to hug them and tell them, "Not all men are stupid and self-centered (wasn't about to tell them about the texts I was getting from my man to relax and enjoy my highly unusual downtime.) The other part of me wanted to give them my divorce lawyer's card.

Later that night, we were seated next to a lovely elderly couple at Erbaluce who made me just want to smile. What I saw, is I hope us in the future (my future coming sooner than his.)

He looked over the wine list for quite awhile and asked the waitress many questions about the list and the menu. Matt is known to take hours reading a wine list and last night asked the same questions about the menu as the gentleman next to us did (how to choose between wild boar and veal?). After they ordered he looked at his wife and said with such sweetness, "You look beautiful tonight my dear." I almost cried when I heard that. Just before we left the house and I was putting on my jacket, Matt looks at me and says, "You look scrumptious tonight" (I think he was really hungry.) He always takes the time for the little things, that one. Over the course of dinner, they spoke of traveling, food, friends, family and just life. I even heard the f word. I saw such love in their eyes and smiles on their faces. We ended up talking to them a bit about the wine and food and they shared that their favorite restaurant is T.W. Food.

Okay, the staff at T.W. Food has a "regular" table for us and will comment if they haven't seen us in awhile. My dad and stepmom took us there for our engagement dinner. A sign. You know how I love signs.

I told Matt on the way home how I know, I just know, that that will be us in the future. It was so evident that this couple never lost sight of each other. It's easy to lose sight with a family, work and all the craziness that it sometimes bring. Like it or not, you have to work with being with each other sometimes, taking time with one another. It's not work to be with each other, it's just work finding the time sometimes. I'm not really a big Valentine's Day person but I had a lovely night last night. And I am super-excited for Tuesday because we've planned something for the kids. I know Valentine's Day is supposed to be for your significant other, but one of the things I love most is telling my two how much I love them and doing really cheezy Valentines things for them and seeing them roll their eyes and getting some, "Moms" but knowing that deep down, they are secretly enjoying it and they know, they know, how much they are loved.

Yesterday the music word lost a true legend. When we left the restaurant and found out Whitney Houston had died, we were both in shock and talked about what a talent she was. Below is my all time favorite Whitney song. Whitney may have not gotten something in her life right, but the woman got love and all that came with it. May peace be with her family, especially her daughter. She of course was the first one I thought of when I heard the news.

Transitions

2012-01-15T20:28:00.005-05:00

Yeah, that Concert Countdown went really well.

As did the non-existent best songs and cds of 2011.

Adele; best concert. The Big Roar by The Joy Formdiable best cd and Whirring by The Joy Formidable best song. Done.

The last three weeks have been full of 3/4 of us being really sick, surgery, packing, getting ready for the move, wedding planning and the first visit by my future mother-in-law.

Any my baby boy turns 13 tomorrow.

I am someone who strives on consistency, shocking I know. There is nothing consistent about my life right now. There are transitions every where and I'm trying really hard to get used to all of them. Really hard. Today for the fist time, I felt like I saw a light at the end of the tunnel.

Let's start with this picture. Matt had surgery 10 days ago on his hip (we get to go through this again with the other hip in March; and I'm the old one.) Two weeks of no driving and 3-6 weeks with crutches. Makes packing and moving really fun. He's been a good patient, helping out as much as he can and let's just say nursing is not in my blood but I'm trying and getting better. Compression socks, med runs, and ice packs have become part of our nightly routine. He knew he wouldn't be able to help out after his surgery so was awesome and had his friends come in and help pack up the house. I am extremely grateful for this. He also had his mom come up for the surgery to help out and also because he knew I would start to go into my OMG you're going to die in surgery mindset and wanted someone to be with me in the waiting room. Yes, he is that sweet. At first I stressed out about having my future mother-in-law come visit with the house in a complete disaster but got over it very quickly when I saw how sweet and incredibly helpful she was. She took care of him when I had to go back to work, went grocery shopping, did the laundry, cooked us dinner, helped pack and clean and bought us a new printer. I was SO sick during all of this and she was a complete life saver and it was great getting to know her better. Like I told him, "I understand you in new ways after spending time with your mom." So thankful.

I am a very visual person and this is the image that keeps getting me through the never ending packing; my new kitchen. In less than 48 hours I will be a homeowner again and like I told Matt this morning, for the first time since we made the offer I am excited about moving. Even though it was accidental; our lease isn't up until April so yes we're breaking it early and will have a mortgage payment and rent for 2 months (unless by the Grace of the Rental Goddess they rent it early.) In November we decided just to look to see what was out there. In 24 hours we looked at one house at the bottom end of our price range and the high end. The low end house had holes in the wall, urine in the toilet (no joke) and the owner was taking the entire kitchen (the only redeeming feature of the house) including the granite island. I left scared and panicked; was this really the market? 24 hours (and a whole lot of dinero) later, we saw this house. I am dead serious when I write that the owners left a bottle of red (one of our favorites) with two glasses out for us and were cooking a roast. I walked in, took one look at the kitchen, looked at Matt and said, "This feels like home." It met all of our criteria (fix it uppers we are not and this house needs nothing done to it, it's also only 2 miles from my ex's house which means just a 5 minute drive which will make life so much easier.) 48 hours later our offer was in, accepted, was pre-approved for the mortgage and before you knew it the P&S was signed (then Matt popped the question 5 hours later-wine consumption was big that night.) I love our new house. It's open, bright and airy and its almost ours. I can't wait to make our first Sunday family dinner there, play Radiohead, have a glass of red, order a pizza and watch a movie on a Friday night.

Tomorrow, my first born turns 13. I'll be the mother of a teenager. He has been giving his dad and I a hard time since we didn't send him to Hebrew School because in the Jewish faith, he would be having a Bar Mitzvah. Being the big Simpsons fans that we are, we remembered when Krusty had his Bar Mitzvah as an adult and told him he could still go to Hebrew School. He opted for extra guitar lessons instead. Birthdays are big around here and I felt HORRIBLE that we wouldn't be able to have his friends over because of the move. He's actually looking forward to having them at the new house. I still wanted to do something special with him this weekend and am so thankful that just he and I got to spend the day together yesterday at Arisia 2012, a sci-fi convention. He and his dad went today and tomorrow I'm taking he and a friend out to lunch then we're all going out for sushi. I can't believe he's going to be 13. 13. He's almost 5' 10" and wears a size 10 shoe.

There is a lot going on and until this morning, I wasn't handling it very well. What changed? Who else? The thing I treasure most about our relationship is the communication. It's not always easy but we are always honest. We packed up the kitchen then I took Amelia and a friend to see Beauty and the Beast in 3D. Yesterday, I would have never considered that. We're still not packed. But that anxiety is gone. It will get done. I need to be *here* for me and the people I love best. I've really been into the mellow music lately and this has been a staple on the commute to work after I drop off the kids at school. This entire cd is fantastic. Takes you to that mellow, everything is going to be okay place. And it will.

Steph's Concert Countdown 2011-#4, Company of Thieves

2011-12-19T18:00:00.006-05:00

#4, Company of Thieves at Church, September

Some of my most favorite moments in life (aside from motherhood, fiancehood, friendhood, familyhood etc.) is when I hear a song in the car and I literally have to stop and listen.

Company of Thieves is one of those bands. I remember driving in the summer and hearing their single "Death of Communication" and thinking, "WHO is that voice?" When I got home, I found them on iTunes and downloaded their entire music library. True story. After hearing one song. I knew that I had found musical greatness.

But I was mad. The only Boston show they were playing was a private event and sold out. Then fate intervened.

They had to cancel due to illness. I was sad for them but truthfully, hoping that I could get tickets to their next gig. Sure enough, a few weeks later and they rescheduled their date. That's when things got tricky. You could not physically buy a ticket. You had to get on the WFNX invite list. I am way too old for this I thought to myself. The problem was, no one seemed to know how to get on the invite list. I finally posted a plea on the WFNX Facebook wall asking for help and wouldn't you know it, one hour later got an email telling me I was on the invite list. Scream time.

During this entire time, my Beyonce (fiance Matt but one of my students refered to him as my Beyonce and I'm sorry but how can I NOT refer to him as that from now on?) had his wallet stolen and had no ID. The story involves uncooperative and slow service from the DMV in North Carolina and is way too tragic and tedious to tell. His new license was supposed to arrive before the show. Fast forward to the day of the show and he has no license. The supportive then girlfriend that I am said, "I love you but you are so being replaced as my date for tonight." I was not going to chance seeing my new favorite band because he couldn't get in. That same day I get another email from WFNX telling me that I have two more tickets to the show. I'm pretty sure it's an error but a plot starts to form.

My friends Heidi and Liza had been trying unsuccessfully to get on the waiting list and as of 3:00 p.m. that day, had not succeeded. Enter Steph with her 4 invites. We had a plan; Heidi and I would drive in together and meet Liza and her friend there. Easy right? Not on a Wednesday night in September in Fenway when the Sox are playing. 1 hour into trying to find a parking spot, we finally decide to drive 10 minutes out of Boston to Liza's apartment, park, then take a cab in. If you are lost at this point, so am I. The point is, it took a whole lot of work to get to this show.

The show.

There have been very few times that chills have run down my spine and the hair stand up on my arm from hearing one note, just one note, come out of someone. The minute Genevieve sang her first word, I knew that this was going to be one the shows that I would say years later, "I saw Company of Thieves at Church." Heidi and I took one look at each other with this "Her voice" look. What I loved most about this band is that they were excited to be there. They had passion. She lived every song. Her voice is undoubtedly one of the richest and full I have ever heard. And what concert tee was I wearing when I got engaged?

I am so playing them at my wedding.

I almost peed in my skivvies when when I found video of the Church show. And of what I thought was the standout performance of the show.

Steph's Concert Countdown of 2011-#5, Cage the Elephant.

2011-12-18T08:51:00.005-05:00

Tonight, Matt and I are going to see Lori McKenna for the 4th time, this being the third time we are seeing her December run at Club Passim. My concert going slowed down a little this year (14) but this is our 43rd concert together. Uh huh. Last year I tried unsuccessfully to do my usual concert/cd/song review. I'm hoping this year will be different (even though I'm not done with my Christmas shopping, am moving and trying to plan a wedding, and no I do not have a dress yet.)

This year I saw Cage the Elephant, Sia, Ke$ha, Incubus, Ben Harper, Company of Thieves, The Shins, Jessica Lea Mayfield, The Smashing Pumpkins, The Boxer Rebellion , An Horse, Florence and the Machine, Death Cab for Cutie and ADELE. Quite the mix. I love the fact that I took my kids (separately) to two of these and one was a wedding gift to friends. Really, concerts are more than just the band. It's the people you go with, the dinner you had beforehand; the conversations, the reactions, really the entire experience. So here is #5 on Steph's Concert Countdown of 2011.

#5-Cage the Elephant, House of Blues Boston, May

This was my third time seeing Cage so obviously they are a favorite of mine. They are also one band that Drew and love to listen to together. I'll never forget when I put their new cd, Happy Birthday, Thank You in the car on the way to school. He listened for one minute and said something to the effect of mom, you might be old but you've still got it. My boy is now up to two guitar lessons a week and is always playing air guitar in the car (he blew me away the other day talking about the technical aspect of playing.) When I saw that Cage was coming I knew we HAD to take him (it was on a weeknight but his dad and I agreed that it would be worth it.) Now remember, he's only 12 (13 in less then a month-OMG) but he's seen The Smashing Pumpkins, The Dead Weather, Stone Temple Pilots and Incubus. His father and I have always agreed that his musical education was a priority.

What I hadn't counted on was that the then 6th grader would have completed an 18 mile bike ride as part of a school field trip to Walden Pond that day. Woops. He was a wee bit tired. We fed him a burger and literally walked into the venue 5 minutes before Cage took the stage. Perfect timing, no standing around. The crowd, as all are Cage crowds, was energetic and ready to rock and move. The minute Cage hit the stage, he was mesmerized. By the band and the crowd. Both the band and the crowd get into it and I mean get into it. There is nothing inhibited about a Cage concert. People are there to experience them. Within minutes I see his fist in the air, totally getting into the music. Now up until the concert I kept telling him, "Sabertooth Tiger would be the best finale." I must have said that to him every day. So when they closed with Sabertooth Tiger, we both looked at each other and screamed and went back to being lost in the music. I loved this concert because as always, Cage always delivers, but I love it because I got to rock out with my boy!

Gathering Together 10 years later

2011-11-24T08:31:00.002-05:00

Happy Thanksgiving. I had to post a picture of Charlie Brown because my kids and I have been waiting for it to come on and finally tonight, we can watch it. I look forward to admiring my food baby in my food coma, lying on the couch with the people I love.

I woke up this morning and even though I have made 24 turkey cupcakes, a pumpkin cheesecake, lime gelatin salad and the apple pie is going in the oven after the gym, I made my way to the kitchen at 7:00 a.m. to bake a pumpkin pie.

I don't even really like pumpkin pie.

But my mom did.

I've been missing her a lot lately. I bought a house. I'm engaged. I kind of need my mom right now. So I do what I've learned to do over the past 10 years (a reactionary trip to Nordstroms did occur but it was for stuff I actually needed; btw, LOVE the new Chanel Aqua foundation). I immersed myself in memories.

Thanksgiving was my mom's day. The first one after she died, completely and totally sucked. There really is no other word for it. She had died just two months before. The entire country was still in pain. We were in pain, shock and denial that she wouldn't be there. I honestly don't think any of us wanted to be there but we were. We did it for my mom. A tradition in our family is for everyone to go around the table and say one thing they are thankful for before grace and the feast. I don't remember what any of us said, or if it was heartfelt, but I do remember insisting that we do this for my mom. She would have wanted it.

10 years later, a lot has changed, and there is so much to be grateful for. I keep thinking what I'm going to say tonight at my dad's house. We're moving into a beautiful home. I'm marrying a man I refer to as my emotional lifeguard and for all my designer make up and duds, thinks my best look is no makeup, fleece pajamas and hair in a ponytail. I have two healthy children who though their sense of humor sometimes gives me gray hair, they are emotionally connected and I don't think I've ever felt so connected to them. I can only think of what they will say.

My mom was a religious woman, attended bible study and was very active in our church. I think her most favorite part of our Thanksgiving tradition was singing the hymn, "We gather together." I recollect that most of us would roll our eyes but we always did it. I looked hard for a funky acoustic version of it but came up empty handed. Then I thought, this version of the song is so Cora. So mom, it kills me that you're not here with us today because I'm sure your little chef of a granddaughter would have been cooking with you all day. I hate the fact that I still feel slightly incomplete after my engagement because I couldn't tell YOU. But you need to know that 10 years later, the smiles will be genuine at our Thanksgiving table and the gratitude sincere. Maybe next year, I'll get Drew to learn this on the guitar. Right now, he's working on Hendrix which I KNOW you would have loved.

This one is dedicated to you.

Allie Loftis, please, please come home

2011-11-14T19:12:00.007-05:00

I was going to finally publish a piece I've written called "Shared Custody."

That can wait.

Over one week ago, the sleepy little town of Wayland was once again rocked with devastating news. Citizens in the cozy town are still grappling with the murder of Lauren Astley. I still see coral ribbons in her memory all around town and I'm sure as the trial of her ex-boyfriend Nathaniel Fujita approaches, images of that July morning will be played again and again.

This was different. An eighth grader, Allie Loftis, at Wayland Middle School where my son is in 7th grade, was missing. A runaway. She disappeared Friday, November 4th. By Saturday morning it was all over Facebook with people organizing to help and spread the word. This is Allie.

Allie was last seen at NYC's Port Authority getting off of a Peter Pan bus she had taken from Boston. On Sunday, an email was sent from the principal of the middle school addressing the situation and how the school would handle it (for the record, I have been nothing but impressed by the staff at Wayland Middle School-as an elementary school parent you always heard that WMS was the gem of the WPS, and I'm here to tell you, it is the absolute truth. I can't wait until my daughter is there next year.) A statement would be read in homeroom on Monday morning. Wanting to be proactive, I discussed her disappearance with my son. His response, "Do you think the school should educate parents on the signs of running away?"

Wow, not the response I expected.

According to statistics, most runaways come home within one week.

Allie has been missing for 10 days.

Every night I think of her, pray for her safety and send thoughts of comfort to her family. Her situation consumes my thoughts and I keep telling Matt, "I can't imagine what her parents are going through." It is devastating seeing the posts and pictures on her Facebook page, Find Allie Loftis. They are speaking to her-expressions of love, missing her and pleas to just come home. Posting pictures of a happy Allie with the beautiful brown eyes and smile with her grandparents, aunts, cousins. Pictures of Allie and her dog, spending her summers in Maine, eating ice cream with her dad.

In an interview her father Tony gave, he described that Allie was having a rough time in school, was bored in semi-rural Wayland and longed to go to a school in a more exciting venue. "Typical teen angst." As the mother of two tweens, I get that. One minute life is "freakin awesome" and the next it "totally sucks." Typically, 20 minutes, a verbal meltdown peppered with bouts of humor and sometimes, sometimes a Frappucino or Slushee from Target, can turn things around. This can happen once a day, once a week, once a month-you just never know. As I dropped off Drew this morning at school, I looked around at all the cars in the drop off line. Some kids were engaged in lively conversations with their parents (mine was discussing not wanting to get his haircut in fear of looking "Vampire Edward Cullen like.") Some kids had their iPods on and were ignoring their parents. Some kids looked half asleep in the front seat. Were any of these kids showing signs?

So what makes a kid decide to run away? Was my son on to something about educating parents? Allie comes from a very loving and supportive family. I'm sure they thought this would never happen to them.

Today I was driving a car full of tweens and teens to dance class and the gym. The subject of Allie came up. Once again, their perspective made me think. "If I were her, I wouldn't come back. She's going to be in so much trouble. Her parents will ground her for life."

In my mother hen head, I've been thinking what I would do if it were my kid. Hugging and loving them, smothering really, would be on the top of my list. Talking to them about what made them run from home. Punishing my kids would be the the last thing on my mind. Yet when I heard that reaction from all three of them, it made me think. Does Allie feel that way? Do runaways not come home in fear of being grounded? If one of my kids were to runaway, do they really think I would ground them after they've been missing for a week? Yet I'm guessing if you asked many kids, their responses would be the same.

Allie, I have never met you, but please, please come home. Your parents love you so much; they just want to know you're safe. If you're not ready to come, then call a friend or a family member to let everyone know that you are safe.

Allie Loftis is described as 5’4”, 130 pounds, biracial with black hair and braces. Anyone with information can call the NYPD Missing Persons Squad at 212-694-7781.

Allie, I have a daughter too, she's in the 5th grade. When I was pregnant with her, I really thought she was a boy, so when she came out a girl, this song immediately went through my head. I am sure that at one point, one of your parents sang this to you too. They just want you home.

Shared Custody

2011-11-07T19:39:00.007-05:00

***ALLIE LOFTIS HAS BEEN FOUND!!! She was found in NJ on Wednesday after a tip was given to authorities. A 42 year old man is being charged with multiple charges in her disappearance. My apologies for not updating this sooner (or publishing the comments, many from her family-I just checked this morning.) To The Loftis Family; may you know that that so many are sending you thoughts of love, comfort and support in the journey you have ahead of you now that Allie is back. May you find some peace in this Thanksgiving week.

Now to the post that has been 21 months in the making.

My first recollection of divorce was the classic 1970's movie Kramer vs. Kramer.

I don' t remember if I actually saw it, but I remember images of Meryl Streep and Dustin Hoffman and that cute little boy with the mophead hair in court fighting over who would be a better parent in the proceedings of a very contentious divorce.

Growing up I remember when in second grade my friend Nancy told our little group of friends that her parents were getting a divorce. To my 7 year old mind that meant she had to choose or the court would choose who could be her parent. I thought, it was one parent or the other. No sharing allowed. Honestly, after Nancy, not many of my friends would come from divorced families. And my friends who did; they all lived with their moms and weekend visits from Dad were filled with lots of purchases and "fun" things to do.

I have not written much about my divorce and that was a very thought out decision influenced by many factors; privacy of all involved, advice from my legal counsel and the fact that I just didn't have it in me. I'm not here to write about my divorce (well one thing, it will take 3 times as long and cost 6 times as much as you think.) I'm here to share my experience with sharing custody. So many of my friends are divorced or are in the process, all with children; this is becoming more common. I never wanted this for my children. Never. No one does. Too many times I have heard, "Stay together for the kids". What most people don't understand, is that many times you do it for the kids. I know most of you won't understand that and I don't expect you to. I still think I'm trying to figure that one but I can tell you this, I am such a better parent. Those closest to me will tell you that I am. My kids were losing me; they have their mom back. I am more affectionate with them, more relaxed and more me.

A therapist told me that the number of women initiating divorce is skyrocketing; apparently it is a new social trend. I hate that she used that word because I am so NOT trendy. But I believe it. Almost all of the divorced couples I know, its the woman who asked. The woman who moved out. Many people don't get that. I was asked many times why I moved out and left the house. Honestly, noyb. Still is. And my favorite people? The ones who ask why I gave up custody. Apparently sharing custody, 50/50 is "giving up my children." I think many people are tied to the old formula of dad moves out, mom stays home and kids see dad on weekends. For some, this is true. But for an increasing number of us, that's not the case at all. And my other favorite question? "What do you do when they're not with you?" I can see images of clubbing, shopping and spa days filling their heads. What do I do? I tutor after work, do the grocery shopping, the laundry, go to the gym, all the little stuff so when my kids are with me, I am completely with them emotionally and mentally. I am a full time single working mom. Their dad is a full time single working dad. It can be exhausting. That doesn't mean I don't go out-of course I do but lately Friday nights have been pizza, a bottle of red, a trip to Redbox and me falling asleep on the couch before the movie is over and Matt filling me in on the ending. Typically on transition day (the day they go to their dad's) I go to the gym after work, run errands, come home, eat a sandwich and watch Modern Family. Totally and completely outrageous I know.

The most important thing I've learned is that divorced kids need consistency (so do divorced parents.) I think it says a lot that both of our lawyers always said that they were so impressed at how we worked so cooperatively regarding the kids and ALWAYS put their needs first. Have we always agreed? No. Have we made mistakes? I have and I take accountability, apologize and learn from them. My kids have a fantastic, devoted father and in no way do I ever want to take away from that. Would I love to see my kids more? Absolutely. Would he? Of course. One of the best $300 an hour piece of advice I ever got from my lawyer (a divorced dad himself) is that as the kids grow older to expect changes. One of them might want to spend more time with one of us than the other etc. I have found this to be true. As we as divorced parents evolve, so does our agreement. Though I technically have 50 % custody, I see my kids almost every day. I am so grateful for that. We both are very flexible and open about spending time with them on "the other parent's" day. I have the kids Sunday-Wednesday, he has them Wednesday-Saturday and we alternate Saturday nights. But for instance, this month I have them two Saturdays in a row. This past Sunday afternoon he took Mini to visit her great-grandmother, last Friday night I took Drew and his friends to Spooky Fenway. Last Spring we started what I lovingly call "divide and conquer." One Saturday night a month I take one and he takes the other so we can spend some one on one time and the next month we switch. We all look forward to that time.

Shared custody takes a ton of organization. We have calendars everywhere and if there is ever a "switch" the kids know way ahead of time (and we try to keep switches to a minimum.) My kids see their dad and I co-parenting. Now, we'll check weekly menus with each other so that OMG the kids don't have a repeat meal. Elaborate Sunday dinners at my house have become a tradition (and yes, sometimes their dad comes over for dinner too.) Wednesday night is going out to dinner with Dad night. There's not a "Mom" set of clothes or "Dad" set of clothes. We split the cost of everything to eliminate, "I bought that shirt so it should be at my house" scenario. Now, we do have a clothing formula (certain numbers of pants, shirts etc at each house) but that's it. My kids have two homes filled with love.

I am very grateful that their dad and I work so well with sharing custody. With the holidays approaching, I am even more grateful that we agreed to share holidays and not alternate. We both want our kids to see us both on these special days. This year, they're having Thanksgiving lunch with their dad and his family and Thanksgiving dinner with me and my family. Even though their dad is Jewish, we split Christmas. They go out for Chinese food for lunch on Christmas Eve with dad and spend Christmas Eve night with me and my extended family. Christmas morning is at my house (last year their dad came over in the morning for breakfast pizza and to open their big gift.) We then trek over to my dad's house for more opening of presents and lunch. Sometime in the afternoon I take them to their Dad's where they celebrate with him. The entire day is spent in our pajamas.

Just like if we were still married, their Dad and I will agree and disagree about certain aspects of their upbringing. Because we are divorced it requires more careful conversations and time but we parent them together. I know parents who won't even go inside the house when dropping their child off. We always go inside, check in with each other, confirm events and dates. We all attend concerts, recitals, and conferences.

As my children get older, I'm sure they will have more questions, questions that I'm sure will make me think, laugh and cry. Matt is from a divorced family and he has been invaluable in helping me with this and has shared his experiences of having divorced parents with my children. He also is a huge help with everything and does a great job of being an important person in my kid's lives and making it clear to them that they have a great dad and never tries to be anything else. Though right now I'm questioning his decision to support the kid's campaign of wanting a pet rat. Seriously. A pet rat. Thanks a lot Matt.

Before I wrote this, I thought of this song. It is one of my most favorite Paramore songs. So sweet, so sad and so hopeful. I'm not really sure why it popped in my head; maybe because it's about allowing yourself to love. Hayley girl, you kill it in this version. Enjoy.

9/10/11

2011-09-10T21:33:00.003-04:00

Ten years ago last year, I was sitting in front of the t.v. thankful that both kids were asleep. We had had dinner at my mom's house because she was leaving for California the next day to take care of my grandmother who was blind and in frail health. The last words I ever heard her speak were when she told my kids, then 2 and 3 months, "Don't grow up too much while I'm gone." As I sat on the couch, I was trying to figure out how I was going to take both kids to the grocery store because up until then, my mom either went with me or took care of them when I went. She was that kind of mom.

At 8:46 a.m. the next morning she was dead.

Tomorrow, my family and I will attend numerous commemorations around Boston. My son and I will read a Ralph Waldo Emerson poem at one. At another I will deliver a speech inspired by the words of Maya Angelou. I am saddened that we cannot attend the services in Sudbury, MA where we grew up. My mother was such a big part of that community. I did write some words that will be read by our former neighbor and friend of my moms. I have been overwhelmed by the compassion I have received this past week and really, in the past 10 years. I ask that tomorrow, take time to remember the over 3,000 lives taken that day. And to tell those most precious to you how much you love them. Because there is no guarantee that there will be a tomorrow to tell them.

Cora Hidlago Remembrance for the 9/11/11 Sudbury Memorial.

On behalf of The Holland Family, I would like to thank everyone who has been involved with the memorial in Sudbury and preparations for the commemoration today. We are saddened that we cannot attend the services here with you, but we are attending the commemoration at the State House in Boston and myself and my 12 year old son are participating in the ceremony. We are deeply grateful for all of you who turned out today to remember the victims of September 11^th.

I am still amazed at how ten years later my mother, Cora Holland, still has a presence in Sudbury. Every time I run into Sudbury Farms, either a former friend of my mom’s or employee at the store, asks about my family. My mom’s second home was Sudbury Farms; she knew everyone and loved nothing more than to talk, really talk, with the people that worked there. It was no surprise that the first floral arrangement we received on September 12^th, 2001 was from them. It is impossible to drive by the fields at Featherland and not be reminded of the hours my mother spent there watching my younger brother play baseball. Or on Tuesdays when I drive by Our Lady of Fatima and am reminded of the volunteer work my mom did at the food bank. When I began teaching in Sudbury last year, I was shocked by how many fellow colleagues knew my mother and came up to me to share wonderful memories of her. And every afternoon that I leave my job at the Peter Noyes school I drive by this beautiful memorial and comforted by the fact that even though my mother is no longer with us, she is in some way still very much near us.

During the past 10 years, I have had the impossible task of trying to teach my children about the events of September 11^th, and sharing with them just who their grandmother was. I have shown them pictures, shared countless stories (a favorite being how every time she took Drew to Learning Express, she could not leave without buying him a truck) but these attempts will never do justice to just who she was, what if felt like to tell her your problems and the comfort she gave just by listening. My mother was kindness. My mother was love. My mother was acceptance. She was never one to focus on the negative or to make excuses. The greatest tribute we can give to those we lost that day and to those who have lost their lives in the military since then is to live with our eyes wide open. To not see race, gender, age and religion but to see one another through our actions, words and character. To not just recognize differences but to celebrate them and take pride in our diversity. After you leave here today, I ask you to perform an act of kindness, give a hug, tell someone how much you appreciate them. Things that made Cora Holland the gentle soul that she was.

Thank you.

Stephanie Holland

"I sat in an airport thinking, I'm going to die."

2011-08-24T07:07:00.002-04:00

Those were the lyrics playing in my head this morning when I woke up.

In a rather chipper, melodic tune I might add.

Savoring the last of these last lazy summer mornings (honestly, I've had a really hard time sleeping past 5:45 all summer so have compensated by staying in my pajamas for as long as I possibly can-in fact will be gracing Whole Foods with my presence in just an hour in my ultra soft striped pjs from Target) I actually got out of bed because today our cleaning crew is coming and yes, I need to pick up so that they can actually clean. I survived 6 months without them and one day they accidentally called me instead of my ex (a sign I tell you) and we got to talking and Ms. Z said, "I am divorced too, I'm sure we can work something out." So now they come just once a month to do a deep cleaning (we handle the little stuff) and let me tell you, it is worth every penny. We budgeted for it (there is that awesome b word again.)

But instead of picking up, I am writing about a song that I have been happily singing all summer. In the car, in the kitchen. And it was only until a few days ago that I realized the, well, the absurdity (not sure that's the word I was looking for but I'm working on a uncaffeinated mind-Karma Coffee is my stop after Whole Foods in the pajama errand morning) of me singing a song called Airport Death.

Yes, Airport Death.

First, let me clarify that it is not about 9/11. I think it's a relationship song. I'm honestly still not sure, all I know is that I love singing it, its that catchy.

An Horse is one of my favorite bands. I've written about them a lot. I had said to the bf the other day when listening to their newest cd Walls that an An Horse song has been playing or played some weird role in significant moments of my 40 year old life.

We were in the car listening (he thinks the production is off, I can't hear it probably because I'm too busy singing) but we both agree that there are some great songs on it, Dressing Sharply being a favorite. So song #3, aka Airport Death comes on and I start belting it out.

"I sat in an airport thinking, I'm going to die."

Then I look at him with that Steph look on my face and said, "Did I really just sing I sat in an airport thinking I'm going to die?" He looked at me with some concern, then a smile that said you did, I totally get why you are somewhat disturbed that you just realized it but its a good song, and turned the volume up.

This is why we work.

People, I have been singing that song all summer and just "got" the lyrics.

Only I could repeatedly sing a song with those lyrics in the summer before the 10th anniversary of my mother's death and not make the connection.

I've looked at the lyrics and still am not sure what they're about but it made me think. One of the first things that went through my head and that my sister and I have talked about quite frequently is did my mom know on that sunny September morning what would happen? Did she have a weird feeling? I've listened to tapes from the plane and attended informational meetings for families so have know as well as I will ever, what happened on the plane. But this song made me think, did she know before? Sitting at Logan, was there a voice inside of her head that said, "Don't get on that plane?"

I'm not into "What ifs" but sometimes allow myself to wade in the Pool of Coulda and Shoulda. Its human nature.

Time to finish picking up and do my morning errands. And you know what song I'll be singing in the car in my pajamas. I'll leave my beloved blue m&m slippers at home. This time.

In Defense of Coldplay

2011-08-22T19:37:00.010-04:00

Unbeknownst to me, I have been ROCKING The Coldplay lately.

Heck, I even lifted to Coldplay yesterday. Strangely, it worked.

But it was during my lift that I found myself defending them to the bf. He is an "old Coldplay" fan. Ok, I'll admit that their later stuff is not up to par with the old stuff, but you can't let a song like Vida la Vida take away from the genius of In My Place. You just can't.

Why?

Chris Martin and Company write beautifully depressing love songs and as we all know I am ALL about beautiful and depressing things.

I became a fan after watching The Last Kiss one summer night in the comfort of my living room. In fact come to think of it, I discovered Lori McKenna that night too. Oooh. I love Zach Braff movies and the music in this one made the movie. Who can forget poor Zach sitting outside on the porch for days waiting, waiting to be forgiven by his true love? After screwing up royally I might add.

The song that stuck with me from the movie was Warning Sign, really the most delicious sample of the demise of a relationship. That song kills me. Every time. Kills many people I know, cough, cough TG.

As our discussion progressed between sets, we agreed that A Rush of Blood to The Head is a great cd.

How great is it?

Coldplay, as good as they are about writing about lost love that hurts so much you want to stay inside and eat Twinkies while watching QVC for days, also writes I love you so much I want to and did write a song about you.

During my Ode to The Marshmallow night last week when my kitchen was covered in graham cracker, marshmallows and cake (as was my hair), a Coldplay song came on.

Green Eyes. On A Rush of Blood to The Head.

"Cause I came here with a load

And it feels so much lighter, since I met you

Honey you should know, that I could never go on without you."

I know. Melting material.

So as my marshmallows were melting, he stops me from baking and starts dancing with me in the kitchen.

Steph melts.

Marshmallows are over melting.

Then he does the dishes.

For real.

Melt away.

Izzyitis.

2011-08-21T21:30:00.006-04:00

3 weeks. 3 weeks.

I feel comforted in a weird way that its just not me who is totally thrown by how totally thrown I am this year. Many people I know have what I will refer to as Septemberitis. Even my kids. My dear boy, well really mini-man now-he just returned from almost a month at camp, taller and tanner than when he left, mentioned how he's seeing images on tv that he had not seen previously (and of course, like all good conversations, this happened in the car.) His sister asking when we're going shopping for our clothes for the commemoration. This year for the first time I will be participating with one of my kids-so proud of my son that he wants to honor his grandmother this way. I am a planner so have many, many supports in place for me and my kids and am learning that it's okay to be sad 10 years later-I don't need to make an excuse because of time. I will always miss my mom. Always.

One of the most unexpected things that happened when I became a single mom was this desire to become the Mexican Martha Stewart-Marta?? The time I spend researching recipes, reading food blogs (my new obsession) is quite consuming. But I love it. I always had Sunday dinners at my mom's house. Sunday dinner around here is ridiculous. Ridiculous. It's my favorite meal of the week. It used to be that the two Saturday nights I have the kids (we alternate Saturdays and lately have been doing the divide and conquer thing and each of us takes one then switches-I have loved the one on one time I've had with each of them and hope that we can pull this off sometimes once school starts) we would go out for dinner, and sometimes we do (of course my two are foodies) but most nights they want me to cook. And do I cook. The iPhone goes on Pandora (btw LOVING the Jessica Lea Mayfield and Portishead stations), I sip my glass of wine and the chopping, grating, and stirring begins. It's an EXPERIENCE.

So what have I been suffering from lately?

Izzyitis. Gosh, do I love itises.

What is Izzyitis you ask?

I haven't watched Gray's Anatomy in almost 2 years. Even then it was only sometimes. But I remember how Izzy dealt with her beloved's terminal illness.

She baked her patooty off. And she was a doctor-this death thing was an every day routine. She immersed herself in flour, baking soda, sugar and blueberries. She stirred with vigor. Cracked with vengeance. Emotional culinary greatness at its best.

Usually the nights the kids aren't with me, we do leftovers and tuna on Ezekial. Low maintenance. Last week? I'm making bbq chicken pizza, desserts that can only be described as ode to the marshmallow. Matt came home last Thursday night and I'm in my pajamas in a trance making dessert-at 8:00 and still hadn't made dinner. Why? Drew was coming home from camp the next day and gosh darn he was going to have the best Welcome Home Dessert. It was awesome but like all my recipes, mine was the ugly version. This is what it was supposed to look like. The kitchen brings me comfort. Feeding my family fills me with love. And damn, are we filled with love right now.

This week's menu: heirloom tomatoes stuffed with brown rice, feta and shrimp salad, orzo, chicken, arugula and goat cheese salad, bruschetta and I haven't even thought about dessert (don't fear, I only make dessert once a week. I'm thinking greek yogurt pie for this week.)

I don't even want to know what I'll be making the first week in September. Just tonight I told Matt I need a pressure cooker and then was researching the Cuisinart griller. Panini anyone?

I don't even know if Gray's is still on the air but if it is I need to thank the producers for playing such great music on the show. Because remember, it was on the bitter cold Thursday night in January that I heard this song that well, kind of changed my musical life.

One more thing? What is faro? I found 3 recipes tonight with farro. The only Pharaoh I know comes to Seder (my half Jewish kids are so proud of me right now.)

Standing on One Foot (and the musical find of the year.)

2011-08-18T20:56:00.006-04:00

You know when people say, "Just give her time to stand on two feet." I think that means that a person is stronger and more stable on two feet. Physically and emotionally.

Um, I don't think so.

Today was a big day people-I graduated from PT.

Do you know why?

Because I could stand one one foot. With a med ball doing RDLs. Lots.

Uh huh.

And my favorite line of the PT discharge-"You need to continue to do instability work."

Awesome, just what I need more instability during late August. But he's absolutely right. The more unstable my foundation is, the harder I have to work to be strong. More affirmation that not only can I endure it, I can excel at it. With strength.

But my PT, who did what no other PT could and actually figured out my problem (and a huge thank you to my old coach and friend, well he's not really old but he is 30 now so why not-let's call him old, Eric Cressey for the referral.) I no longer train at Cressey Performance due to my new schedule and budget (wow, there's that word again) but I can say that Eric and his crew are a class act (well, maybe not Tony) and without their coaching and friendship, I'd still be at mile 17 on Heartbreak Hill.

My entire summer has been about

standing on one foot.

Or aka, one leg work.

It really got me to thinking. I've run 3 Boston Marathons, have deadlifted 225 pounds, but my ticket out of PT wasn't about endurance, it was about being able to be strong and stable on one foot. Well, that and a ton, I mean a ton of core work. Do you know how long it takes me to activate my glutes and loosen my hips now? Swear on my foam roller (and yes EC once gave me a foam roller for my birthday) I now spend 30 minutes, 30 minutes on waking up muscles that apparently like to siesta. And I need to thank my BF aka my new strength and conditioning coach, Matt Gardner (whom I'm sure will throw the med ball sitting in our living room at me after reading this) for all of his patience and hard work this summer. I am not an easy client in general. Add being his girlfriend did not make it easier. It could have been ugly (and in truth I think I only threw the med ball once aiming for his head-and missed) but he worked with me four times a week for 90 minute sessions this summer. He worked very closely with my PT, Eric Schoenberg, and I am very thankful. I am certain the small adjustments he made during my training, resulted in huge, huge performance gains for me. Its awesome having a BF that's a coach (except when he hugs you and you think it's all romantic and all and he's really assessing your tissue trying to figure out your programming for the following day. Ouch.)

Back to my point.

I had to get strong so that I could be stable on one foot. Think about it-anyone can be stable on two feet (well, actually not me-I fall over all of the time so that fact that I am strong on one foot now is really Hellen Keller caliber miracle here.) I had to learn how to become aware of so much, to really think about my stability and being strong. On one foot.

People, that is life.

The past almost 10 years of my life hasn't been about trying to be strong on two feet but on one. When something doesn't go as planned, a bump in the road, road block. Stay on course. Be stable. Be strong. One one foot.

I still don't have the green light to run but I'm okay with that. I feel stable. I feel strong. On my one Nike. And I'm going to need it for the next 3 1/2 weeks.

And on my one foot I will be obsessively listening to Company of Thieves. I discovered them yesterday and within one hour of hearing their single had downloaded all of their stuff. I know my music. They are the real thing. Her voice, her voice. Vulnerable, yet so strong.

I wonder if she's singing on one foot?

Euphoria by the side of the road

2011-08-09T19:57:00.003-04:00

I made an executive decision today and this is to just WRITE. I have all these ideas, plans, even series of things to rant about and what happens is that I never act on them because they wouldn't be complete. Look at my last entry-it was supposed to be the first of ten. That turned out well. The next 4 weeks are going to be really hard-how do I know this? Because the last 4 weeks have been really hard and that's new; usually my Septemberitis doesn't begin until August. I feel better when I talk. I feel better when I feel. I feel better when I write.

I'm 40 now. Yay me.

You know me, so not into celebrating my birthday. I figured though 40 is major so planned an entire week of music, meals, friends and family with the big culmination happening in NYC with a weekend full of food, wine and OMG a naked Macbeth (was planning on him but not in the buff-with McDuff.) Sorry, I had to. Saw Sleep No More; still trying to process. Totally surreal.

The bf and I are total foodies and I know my restaurants well. I love hole in the walls, I love 4 star French restaurants, I just love food. But what I love more is when the experience is just as good as the food.

One of the top 5 meals I have ever experienced happened over my birthday weekend. At a place that sat at the most 20 people, had no air conditioning and a tiny menu.

Heidi's by the Side of the Road I LOVE you.

We were dominating the brunch scene so decided for dinner to try different wine bars for dinner (but Heidi will tell you, she is a wine and beer tavern.) So on our last night there we trekked up to the UES to this tiny, tiny storefront on E. 78th. We walk in and maybe 10 people could fit at the bar and 4 tables. We opted to sit at the bar. It was hot, hot but the fans above us did their trick and cooled us off.

In case you're wondering, there is a Heidi and she is awesome. I felt like I was having dinner at her house that's the kind of atmosphere it is. Heidi greets you at the door, welcomes you in like she hasn't seen you for 10 years and is sipping a glass of wine while doing it. She waits on all of the tables but it's not like she's waiting on you, its like she's with your dinner party. The wine list was small, but varied and affordable. I couldn't decide-not a problem. Heidi lets you taste until you find one you want. Seriously. The bf got a rose. Guess what? The winemaker and distributor were sitting right next to us. Seriously. Before you knew it was like one big dinner party. The food? All I'm going to say is macaroni and cheese with gorgonzola and bacon. Oink, oink.

The jazz is flowing, everyone is drinking wine and eating cheese in every form imaginable, Heidi knows everyone's life story (her husband tends the bar and is just as incredible as she is and btw the beer selection is just as good as the wine) and in walks this bald guy in a leather jacket and sits right next to me at the bar. He's an old friend of Heidi's husband (they're both Irish) and they start talking. All I hear is "I've been following U2 and I'll have the shrimp tacos and the burger."

U2, shrimp tacos and burgers? You are my new bff.

Suzie Social that I am, I start asking him about music. He is just as obsessed as me. Huge Arcade Fire fan. Then I had to ask.

"Do you like Radiohead?"

Swear on my Vouvray, he pulls out his phone and pulls up Radiohead at Scottish Mist playing Faust Arp.

I am so not making this up.

I'm talking to all of these interesting people with the bf, eating guacamole, mac and cheese, trying new wines and the guy next to me starts playing footage of Radiohead playing in a field? Just for me?

I'm tearing up just thinking about it.

Happy Birthday to Me.

Here it is.

The Musical Therapy of my Third Decade

2011-07-30T07:00:00.005-04:00

One week from today, when I wake up way too early (my body has still not adjusted to the summer schedule and I wake up at 5:30 a.m.) I will be 40.

I'm ready to welcome the fourth decade of my life because let's face it, my third decade brought me death and divorce. It also brought me incredible friendship, love, laughter, light and finally some peace about that terrible Tuesday morning almost 10 years ago. I am still a work in progress and hope that I will always be. My intention is that some chapters will have some closure and some are just starting to be written. My greatest accomplishment are the two tweens who call me Woman. They have been through things that most other kids haven't and through it all they have communicated their feelings, thoughts and fears, hopes and dreams. I love them, tell them every day and love the fact that the last words out of their mouths when they go to bed are, "I love you Mom." Followed by, "Can you get me a glass of water" or "What's for dinner tomorrow?"

Many friends have called me a "musical guru." For some reason I can only imagine Adam Sandler as The Love Guru when they say that, but I totally know what they mean. And just wondering but why do gurus always dress in white togas or non-forming colored potato sacks? Anyways, I've decided (partly because I still haven't figured out Spotify and created playlists) to share the most influential songs of my 30's. These necessarily aren't my favorite songs by these artists, these are the songs that made me stop the car and just listen, or whip out the iPhone and Shazzam it or the songs I played over and over while thinking about major decisions in my life, songs that I found a piece in me or an answer I didn't even know I was looking for. They are the songs that kicked my Mexican butt into gear. The best therapy I've had is music. Period.

First on the list-Breathe Me by Sia.

I love this picture of her because I totally feel her inner cute scowl. And am pretty sure there is a picture of me floating on FB posed like this with Fruity Cupcake doing the Thriller dance. I'm pretty sure Sia is not doing the Thriller dance here.

I actually consider Breathe Me the first wake up song of the Musical Guru that is now Steph. I had always loved music but this song was the one that I couldn't leave for days and tracked down. It was a Sunday night and the kids were finally in bed and I was watching the series finale to Six Feet Under. I was trying to figure out how they were going to end the the final episode of the series and voila there's Claire driving her car and this song is playing. I'm pretty sure I was half asleep, not as a result of the show but because I always fall asleep watching t.v. I remember sitting up, turning up the volume and completely losing myself in this song. At that time, Sia had just left Zero 7 and was starting out on her own-tracking down the song was hard and at that time it was only available as an import. Didn't matter. I have, no joke, 6 versions of this song. I've seen Sia live once and of course am seeing her tomorrow night as part of the Steph Turns 40 Summer Music Concert Series. OMG, I sound like a segment on The Today Show. Before you know it I'll be having sponsors form Depends-kidding. I hope.

Listen and feel.

"Mom, do his parents still love him?"

2011-07-06T21:29:00.005-04:00

My nights have been restless with periods of insomnia and my days pre-occupied with sadness, anger and disbelief.

All over two people whom I have never met, yet are featured on the national news.

As I made potato salad, fruit salsa, chilled beer, spent time with my family at the pool and watched fireworks while eating ice cream, I was following the disappearance of a young Wayland woman on the 4th of July. 18. Just graduated from high school. Her car found at the town beach where I have spent countless hot summer days with my children. By lunch, a body had been found. By dinner, her father had identified it as his only daughter whom he loved to pick blueberries with.

I told the kids at dinner, "I hope I'm wrong, but I bet it was her boyfriend."

By breakfast the next day, her boyfriend had been charged with the first degree murder of his girlfriend of 3 years. They had recently separated. As the day progressed details of blood in his house, a gaping wound to her neck, and soiled clothes found hid in his room were revealed. As the months progress, I am certain we will find out more details about Lauren Astley and Nathaniel Fujita. But right now, I know enough.

I know the high school, middle schools and elementary schools they attended since my children attend the same ones. I know the health club she played tennis at, because I belong to the same one. I know what an intelligent and compassionate man her father is, having sat next to him at an educational conference last year. I know the pizza shop she frequented, as I have that number in my speed dial on my phone. I know the home he grew up in because I drive by it every day when dropping off my own son at middle school. I know that his youngest sibling will walk through the same doors as one of my children on the first day of school come September and that his younger sister is an accomplished ballet dancer and dances at the ballet school my own daughter once danced at. I know the church where her memorial service will be held because my son had his dedication service there as a baby. Both Lauren and Nate were set to begin their freshmen year at college come this fall.

I know that neither one of them will be doing that.

My heart aches for all involved. I grieve for Lauren and feel the pain of her parents. I know death, I know pain all too well. Especially the unexpected and brutal murder of one you love. Not only are you mourning for your loved one, but you are coming to terms with a new world full of gruesome death details, a loss of innocence and constant media presence. You become used to speaking of death in what might seem to an observer an detached way but is really the only way you can come to terms with your new found reality.

This can't be happening. Things like this don't happen to people like me. Did I miss something? Almost 10 years later, and I still ask myself these questions.

It is this last question that will be consuming the thoughts of all in the months to come and the trial approaches. It is this question that I truly hope we don't forget and construct into something constructive to educate the youth in Wayland about violence in teen dating.

Last night I was awake from 3:13 a.m.-6:00 a.m. thinking of the question my 12 year old son asked me about the case.

"Mom, do you think his parents still love him?"

As a mother, I thought so much of Mrs. Fujita last night. Of the bond between mothers and sons. I thought of what she was thinking of her as her son as he settled in for his first night in jail. Of all of the questions she must have wanted to ask him, things she wanted to tell or yell at him. I am guessing she wasn't seeing him as the 18 year old football and track star that he is, wearing his orange Wayland Football tee shirt and in handcuffs as he was when arrested. I am guessing she was seeing him as a toddler asleep in his crib with his favorite stuffed animal. Unable to get these thoughts out of my mind, I walked to watch my daughter sleep.

As I watched her slumber surrounded by an army of sock monkeys, I thought of Mr. and Mrs. Astley. They will never be able to watch their daughter sleep, share breakfast with her, hear her footsteps come through the door, embrace her after time apart, or hear her voice. In many ways, I know their pain, their loss. My son's question still echoing in my mind.

Today, Lauren's father gave another interview. He is a gentleman full of grace, integrity and compassion. Take a minute and read it. The world needs more Malcolm Astley's in the world. We can all learn a lesson from him.

I finally answered my son's question today. Thank you Mr. Astley, for helping me find my answer. As I approach the 10th anniversary of my mother's murder, your words have helped heal my wound and focus on the love and light in my life. My thoughts and prayers are with your family.

Motherless on Mother's Day

2011-05-06T20:25:00.002-04:00

On Sunday night I wrote a blog about preparing for my mom's birthday the next day, the little things I remember about her and after spending a beautiful day with just my Mini, a glimpse into what she will remember about me.

Then the man behind my mother's murder was murdered. The world had changed again. The headache began again.

On Tuesday, a woman named Sarah that I had met only a few times and was a great friend to so many I knew but who always made me laugh, had a killer fashion sense (she guided me through the ugly process of buying black skinny jeans) lost her 5 year battle to ovarian cancer. She left behind the most loving husband and two beautiful little boys. The headache got worst.

I never posted my blog. I felt so lost.

Today I was the special guest at two teas at school honoring mothers and grandparents. I stood in a room full of 100 people and listened to two second graders share pictures of grandmothers they had never met but wanted to honor at the tea. They told stories that had been told to them and shared precious keepsakes. I happened to be standing next to their mothers, the woman who had lost their mothers, and I could see the pain in their eyes, the sorrow in their deep breaths and the utter determination to be strong for their children. I also knew that they were thinking what I always think, "I want my mom back not for me, but for my children. I want them to know her."

I am entering a weekend that in many ways is the most awful holiday of the year with millions of other women who have lost their mothers. Advertisements for brunches, Mother's Day cards, endless posts on Facebook about moms. In no way am I dismissing sons who have lost their mothers; my brother was only 18 when my mother died and his loss is just as severe as mine. Loss is loss. As a mother who has lost her mother, Mother's Day is complete hell. On one hand you want to grieve and remember the loss of your own mother. You also want to be attentive to the beautiful children in front of you and live and celebrate with them. I never know what to do. I always feel like I don't do the right thing. I feel selfish if I spend that day isolated remembering my mom. I feel guilty if I don't.

I was speaking to a therapist about this and she gave me the most simple advice; I need to do what's right for ME. If I don't my children will suffer because of it. It became so clear; follow my heart, not my my mind. My original plan was to go into Boston on Saturday night to lay flowers at the 9/11 Memorial. Without my kids. Not anymore. Standing in that classroom and seeing these 7 year olds share memories of extraordinary women they have never met and how precious that was to their mothers, I knew what the right choice was. On Sunday we are either trekking into Boston or visiting the memorial in Sudbury and laying flowers to honor and remember the woman I never thought I would be able to navigate the world without. Almost ten years later, I've definitely gotten lost a couple of times, but am exactly where I want to be. Making her alive for my children is one of the most important things I can do for them. Then I'm going to leave the rest to them (yes, Ms. I must plan everything is having heart palpitations over that one.) As I was trying to plan the day, the bf looked at me with those eyes that always kill me and said, "Did you ever think that maybe we have something planned for you?" No, I had not. After remembering my mom, I'm going to let 3 of the people I love most in this world, honor me, my burned dinners, disco dancing in the kitchen, bad singing in the car with what THEY want to do for me. I'm going to be a mom. And I know my mom is so happy that I am allowing myself to do that.

We all know how much I love Lori McKenna. She lost her mom at the age of 6. This song is about grief. About the bad times. And about knowing when you're ready. Not to move on (I HATED when people would put my grief on some kind of time line.) But when you're ready to open your heart again and love. To remember. To smile. And to just know. Know that there will always be sorrow. There will always be pain. But the love between you and your lost loved one is more powerful than that.

Tomorrow I am running (stop the presses) a race for a fund raiser at work. Its in honor of a woman woman who lost her battle to cancer and left two children behind. It's always held on Mother's Day weekend. Tomorrow I run (and I use that term loosely) in honor of all the beautiful mothers taken away too soon. I run for the sons and daughters left behind. I'm running for my mom and me.

Happy Mother's Day.

Elliptical Evening News Reality Check

2011-04-25T21:17:00.009-04:00

Growing up, my dad always watched The CBS Evening News. Walter Cronkite then Dan Rather were staples of my childhood. I remember hating that half an hour with a passion and later the tick tick ticking clock of the 60 Minutes intro. My parents LOVED 60 Minutes. I so did not love 60 Minutes as an impatient tween who wanted to watch her Sunday shows. Yes, back in the olden days, we only had one tv with, gasp, no cable.

I later learned to appreciate the news and yes, 60 Minutes. We are now surrounded by 24 hours news stations throwing images of war, Snookie and natural disasters (though I guess Snookie could be considered the latter.) I never watch the evening news. I don't have time. Except for Monday nights. While Mini is at hip hop, I go to the gym, put in my 30 on the elliptical and do a core circuit. I watch the news to help pass the cardio boredom. While listening to my iPod. It works.

Paying allegiance to my childhood, I first go to CBS. I like the fact that they have a woman anchor and I like Katie Couric. She's a survivor; lost her first husband to cancer, educated the public about colon cancer and raised well adjusted daughters. For all of her bubble gum demeanor, Katie is a warrior. Katie is also dating a man 17 years her junior. I love Katie. Like LOVE Katie.

So I'm sweating to Iron and Wine and boombala, first story of the night is of what else, 9/11. Images of terrorists and the twin towers burning occupied the screen. I don't even know what the story was about but rage filled my body. Why is it still okay to flash images of people dying, not only dying, but being murdered, almost 10 years later? Yes, it is history but thousands of us lost someone we loved. Those weren't just empty buildings burning. People; mothers, fathers, children, aunts, uncles, boyfriends, girlfriends, friends were in there. I then came to the realization that with the 10th anniversary approaching, I had better get used to reliving my mother's death on national television.

Thankfully reprieve came in the next story; The Royal Wedding. Anyone in my family will tell you that growing up, I was Lady Di/Princess Di obsessed. More than obsessed. I had every book, magazine, you name it. I woke up with my mom in the middle of the night to watch the wedding live. I might have even had a Lady Di haircut. Now, I really haven't been keeping up with the upcoming wedding (other than telling the BF that he had better DVR it) and hoping Kate doesn't wear one of those weird feather hats of hers. Images of William as a baby flashed the screen and all of a sudden my nuptial euphoria was replaced by OMG I feel so old nausea.

I remember when William was born (and who could forget Charles's icky face in all the baby pictures but I will give credit to him-after Diana's death he stepped up to the plate and from what I can tell from the all reliable People magazine, looks like he has been a great father-good job Chuck.) I remember when this dashing man WAS BORN. I'm pretty sure I was listening to Madonna, Cyndi Lauper and Prince at the time in my acid wash Guess peg jeans. Then I thought about it-how old is Prince William? Ripped the iPhone out, Googled him and he's 28. Reality check #2. The BF is 28.

I looked at the tv screen in front of me and yelled, "Where the heck is Katie Couric?"

This song came on and it immediately took my mind away from terrorists, burning buildings, feathered veils and impending royal nuptials. Great music will do that. But I must say Katie does rock. And so do 28 year olds.

Cheerio!

Car Wars (and how I "torture" my children.")

2011-03-29T20:07:00.010-04:00

Music is an expression of my thoughts, feelings, mood and musings. It is at the center of my being. I pride myself that my children, affectionately known from now on as Bart and Lisa, embrace music also. My boy, are tastes are similar-he is a little more metal/thrash then me-we bond over bands we love. The Smashing Pumpkins, The Dead Weather, The White Stripes, Cage the Elephant just to name a few (and yes I'm taking him to see Cage.) For the past 7 months I have had to endure two Disturbed cds on the way to middle school every morning. I am now disturbed that I can sing the entire Asylum cd and sometimes don't change it when he get out of the car. He's in his second year of guitar lessons and I love nothing more than to see him listen to a song, get out his air guitar and try to figure out the chords.

But the girl.

What in the world happened?

I, Ms. Alternative, somehow raised a Top 40 girl.

Seriously.

The girl takes hip hop, grooves to Dance Central on the Xbox and completely rocks out in the car. She loves Katy Perry, Rihanna, Kesha, Britney (way to come back Cheeto Mama!) Taylor Swift. She knows every song on pop radio. Now we do love some of the same artists, my girl loves Florence and Paramore (big sigh of relief) but she is 100% pure pop and I love it that she has found music. And loves to rock out in the front seat like her mom.

The only time I completely don't love our different musical tastes is in the car.

It's war and I'm usually the casualty.

We have rules about who owns the airwaves and everyone gets a fair share. We've tried alternating songs, blocks of time, alternating rides, alternating days. Now before we enter the car for the day we agree who rules and for how long. We now have a new rule about not commenting on the other person's musical taste.

"All these songs sound the same. I can't handle it."

"I am so tired of listening to the SAME cd!"

Usually, I can handle it. But there are days like today when Mama Mussolini takes over and has a complete Mama meltdown. I pulled out the big guns for this one. The one thing that will band my bickering tweens in unison, make them work together for a common musical goal (can't explain it but they both like My Morning Jacket and usually will quickly agree to that.)

RADIOHEAD.

For reasons I cannot explain, my two children, the two people I carried in my womb for 9 months, gained a combined total of 90 pounds, stayed up endless nights with, have been puked over, attended their elementary school recorder concerts, watched countless episodes of Spongebob with, do not like Radiohead.

Seriously.

At first I thought it was a musical maturity thing but no, they do not like Radiohead. For someone who thinks Thom Yorke is the second coming, this just doesn't make sense in my world. How can this be? How could this have happened? It will remain an unsolved mystery but I have found a way to use this disdain for one of the greatest bands that ever lived to my advantage.

Play Radiohead to achieve silence in the car. So this afternoon, I pulled out one of the great musical masterpieces of our time and the look on their faces said it all.

I think that the bf though may have found another band that has the same effect of Radiohead. The other day on the way to dinner, he ruled the airwaves and played The National.

From the looks on their faces, I just added to my "torture arsenal."

Here's the one I "tortured" the ninos with this afternoon. I was in pure bliss.

Left this show floored (and with only 29 minutes left until I turned 39.)

2010-12-09T08:07:00.003-05:00

Three posts in a week? OMG. Right now I'm sitting at BMW because my German made car won't start and so far everyone else waiting with me has left and given the explanation, "cold weather" (excuse me but last time I checked Germany was not in the tropics) but no one has come out to tell me that. The way things have been going, the guy is going to come out and say, "It's going to be $_______" and you will be able to hear my scream around the world.

This next band also made all 3 of my lists this year. Shocked even me.

Concert #3 of 2010-Interpol, House of Blues, Boston, MA, August 5th.

We all know how I feel about birthdays so I made sure that music would play a big part of it. I saw that Interpol was playing the night before and I'd always been a fan and thought, why not?

I entered in a very good move. Upon entering some Swedish tourist (hmm, Sweden, Swedish cars, maybe I should get a Saab-I'm sure they start in the freakin cold) stopped me and the bf to take our picture because we "are so cute and so much in love." Swear to the Swedish Fish Goddess people, I couldn't even make this stuff up if I tried. Aww, how vomit in your mouth cute.

We were able to get really close to the stage and immediately realized that I was about a good 15-20 years older than most of the crowd. Hmm. One of my friends, my age, huge Interpol fan and has seen them live. The band is not young. But the Interpol cult following apparently is. I immediately honed my eavesdropping skills on a group of definitely under 21 Interpol fans next to me. First, they knew their music. Was impressed. Second, they were all totally trying to impress each other in a pick up kind of way and I was thoroughly enjoying the exuberance and somewhat awkardness of what was going on. I was in my element.

The opening band whom I can't remember, soo, soo good. Think REM with more angst. I heard a girl complaining about them in the bathroom and wanted to scream over the stall, "Duh, they're supposed to be depressing and moody." As we continued waiting the Interpol Under 21 Cult Fan club next to me was getting pumped. Guessing opening songs, set list order. They were legit. Their pre-show enthusiasm should have been a warning to me that they would be using their indie/rock dance moves and almost knock over tiny little me countless times.

They were not disappointed. These guys came out, dressed in suits, looking so sharp and PLAYED sharp. Their sound was crystal clear and I know I've already used this word but they were just sharp. Tight. And the crowd LOVED them. The lead singer I instantly developed a "Oh you're hot and sing like Ian from Joy Division, can play the guitar and rock the black dress shirt" crush and one of their guitarist whom I think might be Mexican, he gave one of the best guitar performances I have seen this year. It was a dancy but I'm dancing by myself to express the music kind of vibe. They sang favorites like Evil, Slow Hand, Obstacle 1 and my favorite, PDA. They also debuted new material off their new cd which hadn't been released yet. I immediately connected with the new stuff and new it was going to be a must buy.

I leave you with young Interpol, a hint for the #2 spot (those who know me will be shocked she didn't take the #1 spot) and yes, I am still sitting at BMW waiting for what I'm sure is expensive news. Merry Christmas to me!

Oh Lizzie, you made all 3 of my lists

2010-12-07T20:45:00.002-05:00

It still kills me that I almost missed seeing this band open for Broken Social Scene almost three years ago. They have become a mainstay in my musical life and have seen them live four times. Four times.

And the fourth time was just raw and real. And by the way, dear Lizzie, Rock Gutiar Idol of mine, you made all three of my lists this year. Oh how I love you.

Concert #4 of 2010-Land of Talk @ T.T. the Bears, Cambridge, MA, November 2010.

I was seriously lagging when I saw them for the fourth time on a cold November night. Wednesdays are my hardest day. I work all day then typically coach two clients then usually train. I leave the house at 7:00 a.m. and usually don't get home until 8:30. They didn't go on until 10:45 that night. Luckily the bf and I hit Jose's, a great Mexican restaurant, and a little chorizo y queso and a margarita later and boombala, I had my RockMama mojo back.

T.T.'s is a more than intimate venue to see a band. I saw Jessica Lea Mayfield (a runner up for this category) there earlier this year, and LofT, and you are pretty much on stage. It's become a new favorite place. I was interested by what their set list would be; their new cd Cloak and Cipher had just come out and I instantly fell in love with it. It's definitely more melodic than their previous stuff and was intrigued how it was going to come off live.

Not only did Lizzie kill the sad, introspective material but Lizzie killed, just killed the hard riff guitar stuff. I mean killed it. The energy of the crowd was contagious, the band was playing like they were in their basement in Toronto and the set list a dream.

I won't go on and on because I'm going to write about them two more times on my musical countdown. This song is off the new one and I thought that you really can hear just how buttery and delicious Lizzie's voice is. I'll leave you with a little teaser for the #3 show-well dressed Brits with a Joy Division danceable vibe. Uh huh.

Oh, how I love Ms. Lori McKenna

2010-12-06T22:01:00.005-05:00

So just because I've fallen off the face of the blogging world, doesn't mean that music hasn't played a major part of my life.

Quite the opposite.

In fact, I've always said that music has been a form of therapy.

You should see my iTunes bill from the past year.

In keeping with tradition, I will share my top 5 concerts, cds and songs of the year. At the rate that I've been blogging, I should be done by my 40th. Yes, I turn 40 in the summer of 2011. I plan to spend it doing my own version of Eat, Pray, Love in either Italy or France with my bf. Except mine will be called, Eat, Shop, Love (and praying that the pants still fit after my tour of pasta and croissants.)

Here we go.

Concert #5 of 2010-Lori McKenna at Club Passim, July 22, 2010.

I've seen Lori now 5 times and in fact am seeing her for a 6th next week that's how much I love her. The song that hooked me, Beautiful Man, I have yet to see her play live yet. So what made this show stand out?

Many things. For one, went out for a romantic birthday dinner to celebrate the bf's birthday at Oleana, an amazing Mediterranean restaurant. We ate outside in a quaint garden, had things like hummus and feta, red wine and a baked Alaska that was simply out of this world. So I was feeling pretty lovey dovey when we arrived at the show. I decided to write Lori a note (in red marker of course in my Wonder Woman notebook because that's all I could find .) I told her how hearing Beautiful Man rocked my musical world, how I've spent hours trying to figure out the meaning of the song, have seen her multiple times and she's never played it, how I think I now get the song thanks to the guy that just wolfed down a dish called Sultan's Delight with me. I pleaded, begged, to sing that song because it was his birthday.

Of course being me, we had a table right up front by the stage. A few songs into the set, Lori says she got a note before the show asking for a song. OMG, I thought to myself. This is it. I will finally hear my song.

Not quite.

Lori admitted she didn't remember all of the song (seriously thought I was going to fall out of my chair there) but that she had another song that was a lot like Beautiful Man. She then dedicated it to him. Total eyes welling up think I'm going to die moment right there.

Aside from Lori's personal dedication to the bf, what made that concert, any Lori concert really, stand out is that she is just real. She gets up on that stage with her guitar and tells her stories in that sweet voice. That night she debuted a new one about losing your mom.

Oh, Lori, how you are a musical muse of my soul.

Here's the song she dedicated. And a sneak peek at #4-who else but my guitar Goddess idol?

Just Breathe

2010-11-23T21:45:00.006-05:00

Wow, Steph reappears.

Trust me, I have wanted to write every day the past 10 months. One of the biggest transitions in my life, and I write very sporadically. What's up with that?

Lots, but I have promised myself that 2011 is the return of the blogger and look forward to completely boring, exciting, inspiring and at the very least making you shake your head and think, Seriously Steph? Like one of my friends recently wrote to me when I told him who I wanted to be when I grew up, "You'll never grow up Steph. Thank God." I took that as a positive thing.

This blog started as a marathon training blog, somehow transformed itself into a forum for music, then my love of family, friends and margaritas. Yet there has always been a theme, a thread. Sometimes not even evident to me.

My mom. Her death. The loss.

So of course here I write, two days before my first Thanksgiving after the split, the first Thanksgiving I will actually cook, and 48 hours before I will fly without both of my kids for the first time ever. It is safe to say I have been a mess.

I have been diagnosed with PTSD. Those of you who suffer from it knows that you can go years without having an episode and then boombala, a trigger and it hits. Here are my ingredients for the latest meltdown.

1. First Thanksgiving since the ex and I split. First Thanksgiving with new traditions for my kids.

2. After spending Thanksgiving lunch with my kids, the bf and I are hopping on a plane to California to attend my cousin's wedding. After much discussion and deliberation, the kids and I decided they wouldn't go due to the brevity of the trip and the expense (3 nights, taking the red eye back-oh joy.)

Hmm, heightened sensitivity due to the holiday (Thanksgiving was my mom's favorite), new traditions and flying the same route she did. Without my kids.

Fast forward to Steph a mess. The neat thing about this messy Steph (although I must say that the house is spanking clean because after 8 months of not having a cleaning team, Zelia, awesome Zelia, accidentally called me-it was a sign from Mr. Clean himself-and voila she and her crew are just going to come once a month to do a deep clean. Oh Zelia, how I've missed you. And yes, points for me, and see I have kind of grown up, I actually BUDGETED for it. I must say, I have been dominating this budget thing.) Where was I? Oh yeah, the beauty of this messy Steph is that she is allowing herself to get messy (with a lot of encouragement from he who is making the turkey this year) or in my case snotty and letting that mascara run down my face (btw, mascara oddly is something I have wanted to write about on a weekly basis. One word-Chanel.) It's been a tremendous help, a freedom of sorts to let it all hang out, process.

As Thanksgiving Eve approaches, I keep telling myself to Just Breathe. There is a harmonious flow in my new familial unit. Sure we have speed bumps, detours and dead ends, but we keep on going. There is laughter and love all around. Communication is a priority. I have fought like hell to get to where I finally am. I am going to allow myself to enjoy the days and not worry about the what ifs. I am going to live in the moment and experience the little things because I have learned, thats where all the good stuff takes place.

I love this song. It captures what I'm trying to say. But of course, Eddie says it much better. As the Holiday Season approaches and we sometimes tend to stress on things like stockings, Jello Mold pans, schedules etc, this song is a beautiful reminder of what truly we should be thankful about. And to live. To live.

Peace and give thanks and love.

Benchmark

2010-09-09T21:31:00.007-04:00

Today marks the beginning of a new year in the Jewish calender. My half Jewish tween son wrote in his school agenda-no school due to Russia Shawna. Can you tell he did not go to Hebrew school?

Tomorrow, September is the last day of my calendar year. And my body has been preparing for this, without my control for the past month. And I hate that. After the most significant year in my life since 2001, I can say with 100% sincerity, I finally am getting it together. I have a home that feels like home. I have two insanely funny and at times insane children who have settled into their new life and thrived during their first summer sleep away camp experience. I have a wonderful job that after only one week has been rewarding and thought provoking. I mean how many people can say that they get hugged daily at the end of their day? And I have found love in the most unexpected place. It has changed me in ways I cannot even explain. I recently visited my sister with Mini Me in New Mexico and after day one she looked at me and said, "I can't believe how much you've changed." With all of these beautiful things in my life, I feel truly blessed.

So why is it that every day this week I wake up with the heaviness in my chest and tears in my eyes. It feels like Septemeber 2002 all over again. When visiting my sister, we talked a lot about my mom, losing her and our fears. Hence, we even made a Door of Fear and knocked that sucker down. Well, sort of.

Notice the date? That means I flew on an 11. Me. With the strongest drink a Diet Coke. Go Steph. I mentioned how I was having trouble breathing. I've never had asthma in my life. She then told me that, and I apologize if I get this wrong, that in Chinese healing, difficulty breathing is a response to grief. Trauma. Yup, I've got plenty of that. But let me tell you, writing down your fears with spray paint, so liberating and don't we look cute?

So why, why after an emotional rollercoaster of a year when everything is finally coming up roses aren't I jumping for joy (like my tween this summer at camp?)

Because I'm still grieving. I always will be. I miss my mom. My sister and I had this conversation-should it still be this hard? Are we making it a bigger deal? I mean we're approaching the decade mark. We then both looked at each other and were like, did we really just ask each other that? I think it's natural though. Death is a certainty in life. Many of my friends have lost their beautiful mothers to terminal illness. Held them in their last moments. Got to say goodbye. Some didn't. Their loss is just as painful and significant as mine. The only difference with mine is that it changed the world. Literally.

There are movies, yes sadistic me almost rented United 93. I know, hit me over the head with a bottle of Merlot. OMG, I should totally open a bottle right now. Hmm.....Footage of my mother's murder will be on the news for the next 2 days. My kids and I discuss terrorists today during our comfort meal lunch of quinoa mac and cheese (have to keep the nutrition, right?). My mother's grave is a public place at the location of her murder. My loss is a very public one. But a loss is a loss. It doesn't matter how you lost your loved one. They are gone. That is our common bond. My heart goes out to all those who have lost a mother. I am sure that most of us would agree, we would give anything for one more small moment. My wish; for my mom to spend time with my kids. I have been told numerous times this summer at how well adjusted they are. Overall, they really are. I am so proud of them and love them with all of my heart. I would give anything for her to know them. And them to experience her love.

I honestly had a totally different idea of what I was going to write and now I've lost it but love the fact that I have come back to love. Because that was my mom. She was love. Unconditional love. Accepting love. Supportive love. Comforting love. Just knowing she was there was enough. Do you know how many times I've wanted to pick up the phone this past year and call her and scream, "What do I do?" I had to figure it out on my own. Yes, I remember my former train of thought. This getting old thing is getting old.

Benchmark, the name of this blog. As a teacher we are constantly assessing our students. Are they meeting benchmark? Above? Below? And in reading, if they are at benchmark, are the instructional or independent? I think the past 39 years of my life I have been at instructional and below grade level. Looking for lots of guidance, sometimes having someone tell me what to do. Trying too hard and getting nowhere. This was the year that I hit independent. I finally found my "just right" life. I passed that five finger test (you teachers are cracking up, you non teachers are totally lost, stay with me, I'm almost done and there's a cute picture and awesome song coming up.)

On our Door of Fear, there was a lot of stuff about love. Intimacy. Vulnerability. Expectations. All of those things I am TOTALLY not good at. Or at least used to not be good at. I'm more of a work in progress now and let me tell you living life without these walls and just letting go is one of the scariest and most beautiful things I have ever done. And I have someone to thank for that.

So of course he who is in the picture has quite the excellent taste in music (that was going to be a given) and we go to a lot of shows. We're going to see this band in October. I've been listening to this one over and over today. I don't think of my mom as a ghost; more of an angel (ah, should have posted Waiting on an Angel by Ben Harper-he who is in the picture has gotten me very into Ben.)

I honestly don't know the exact point of this blog other than life is so fragile. You can wake up one morning, go for a run and come back and the entire world has changed. And your mother has been murdered. Love. Just love. Find peace, find joy and bask in the warmth and comfort in the ones that you adore and love and that feel the same way about you. And tell them. All the time. There is no such thing in telling your loved ones you love them too many times.

So mom, I love you.

Unhappy Birthday No More

2010-08-04T21:09:00.009-04:00

August, oh August you are upon us once again.

Yes, I turn a year older on Friday. And according to my two, "for an old lady, you've still got it."

But more importantly, that day, the reference in my life of before and after is a mere 6 weeks away.

I know because I find it hard to breathe at times. The lump in the throat. The trouble focusing. The heaviness in my heart. I have finally settled into my own skin, well as much as I can for the moment. Both of my kids are thriving, having returned from or still at sleep away camp. Every picture I see they have big smiles on their faces, are trying new things, making new friends. Mini Me was described as the "most wonderful camper" and the Tween as, "thriving and having the most positive experience." I worry a lot-mostly about them. A week ago I ran into a friend at the library and she asked about the kids. I told her what they were up to and she said, "I've got to tell you-you have done an amazing job raising them. They are both so much more confident and outgoing. They are like different people." That honestly lifted me right up in the air and kept me there for quite a long time.

So knowing that finally (except for the job situation) things in my life are in harmony, I thought maybe this year would be different. Last year's birthday in retrospect what very foretelling in what was to come. Realizations. Lots of tears. I love celebrating birthdays. My childhood birthday parties were legendary. Hordes of family, enormous bbqs, themes only my mother could think of (Raggeddy Ann, Snefani Street-that was my favorite one of all. My dad wrote a comic strip invitation. One of my cousins eating double digit hot dogs, throwing up, then coming back for more. Mothers ready to trample each other just to make sure that their kid got the most candy from the pinata.) I turned 16 in Rome. On my 21st birthday my dad and I flew to LA to meet family and were sitting in first class and Shirley Jones was sitting in front of us. That summer I was obsessed with watching reruns of the Partridge Family on Nick at Nite. He told her it was my birthday and she was so nice.

And way to rock that red velvet jacket Shirley. I'm just glad my reaction wasn't the same when I met her stepson, the dreamy Shawn Cassidy and choked on an orange and spit up all over my s iron on baby blue decal tee shirt of him. I was uber cool even then. I used to love my birthday; it all changed when I turned 30. This is how I feel about them now.

Because basically, that's what it means to me. My mother threw a huge 30th birthday party for me. Tons of friends and family. For a lot of people it was the last time they saw her. She was killed 5 weeks later. After that birthday means deathday. It's also a difficult reminder of the day I was born and even though the waiting room was full of family eagerly awaiting for my arrival and when my beloved Grandpa Gus found out I was a girl, he ran to the nearest baby store and bought me numerous dresses (many say I got his sense of humor and apparently my love of shopping too). I was wanted and loved. By everyone except the person I affectionately refer to as my sperm donor. I have a fantastic father now. One who along with my amazing stepmother have been nothing but supportive and encouraging and accepting of the events in my life over the past year. I'm not complaining. But it kind of gets inside your head to think of a parent just plain refusing a little baby (hence I looked like a squished up version of a Mexican Don King but as we can see, over time I grew out of it.)

So my birthday to me means abandonment and impending death and its reminders. That my mom who on my last birthday with her, showed up at my door with coffee and said, "You need to spend some time with Drew. I'll watch Amelia. Go and have fun." She knew, she always knew what I needed and she was right. Amelia was 2 months old and I was going through that I can't handle two kids let alone in my house let alone try to grocery shop with them phase. I was feeling disconnected with my firstborn. So Drew and I went miniature golfing and out to lunch. Such a gift. My mom was an expert giver. Sure she gave wonderful gifts but the real gift she had was knowing what we needed even when we didn't. I have missed that in my life and am so blessed that there is now someone who does that for me.

I was hoping with the rest of my life going relatively well that it would be different when I woke up August 1st. Um, not quite. I am relieved that August brings similar feelings and emotions with my sister, my lifeline. It's like your body and mind take control of your feelings and emotions. But there is something, well lots of things, that are remarkably different this time around. I'm being encouraged to talk about it. Being told its okay. Expressing my thoughts, however irrational some of them may be, has been so healing. And to do it with the two people in the world who know me best and in such different ways has been a gift. I have moments of melancholy, but not a cloud. The smile on my face is real, the laughter genuine, the love pure.

I turn 39 on Friday.

I have two amazing kids who are funny, smart, loving and have good taste in music. 'Cause if they didn't......well, let's not even go there.

I have a supportive family who has encouraged me to be me and accepted everything that goes with that.

I have friends that love to LIVE, make me choke in Starbucks when laughing with them-I really think two of us are going to be banned after this summer's coffee talks-and are this amazing network of support and companionship.

I have a 14 lb chihuahua who truly is living up to her nickname of Chunky.

I have a home, my health save a few aches and pains and hopefully by the end of the month a job.

And I have the sweetest, most loving, generous and most unexpected, the most unexpected, person who reminds me on a daily basis, that its okay to be Simply Steph.

I am turning 39 on Friday.

Unhappy Birthday to me no more. But there is this killer song by The Smiths that I just have to leave you with because come on, its me. Well, last year's me.

June 30, 2010

2010-06-30T01:21:00.005-04:00

It is 1:21 a.m.

I need to be up in less than 4 hours.

Today is June 30th.

Yes, that movie that I have been obsessing about is being released.

I also go to court today.

Coincidence? I think not.

I thought I'd be a wreck today. But I wasn't. Today was one of those days that the unexpected series of events confirmed my faith that everything does indeed happen for a reason. The uncertainties in my life right now are countless. They have been for almost half a year. By the end of this week almost all will have been resolved to different degrees. Nothing complete, but at least I will have some answers.

I hadn't realized just how heavy all these things were weighing on me. I mean, of course I knew, but I guess I, well, I guess I didn't know to what extent.

And right now, I don't feel heavy any more. You can see it in my face. For the first time I can see my future.

So of course this leads to a song. Off the Eclipse soundtrack of course. By my Florence of course.

And by the way, this soundtrack is awesome.

Fear and Florence

2010-06-07T00:23:00.010-04:00

Notice how I started this last week. I should seriously rename this blog, Slow Steph. Oh, now that's deep.

Over the past 3 months I have wanted to write oh, about 50 times a day. Circumstance, situation, exhaustion and time prevented me. Or so I thought.

It was fear.

Fear of writing, fear of sharing, fear of opinion, fear of being judged. Fear of being me. I know, seriously Steph?

It wasn't until I was in a movie theater with my ex-wife (I'm really racking up the exes lately huh? and another of her ex-wives) watching the trailer for one of my most favorite books of all times, Eat, Pray, Love that I realized this fear of being Serendipitous Steph. The book is one of self discovery, pain, divorce, friendship, travel and yes, love. Oh and eating the most amazing food. I clearly remember reading that book almost 3 years ago and putting it down after reading something and thinking, OMG do I get this woman. Texting my sister and Fruity Patooty with these killer one liners ( they were reading it too.) The book was one of those books in my life that made me think and feel. Question. So needless to say I was quite excited to see the trailer.

And that's when I heard it. The "da da da" of the harp.

Holy leaping chia seeds, it was her. It was HER. It was Florence. My Florence. And it was MY song. I really think I started choking on my burrito that I had smuggled in my backpack. Prada of course. The backpack, not the burrito.

And that's when it all came together for me in a dark theater in the suburbs of Boston.

I have to write. I just have to. It's an extension of me. I am going through some major um, stuff? right now and I have not been doing what comes to me like breathing in fear of well, fear?

Fear was so last season. Moxie is where it's at.

Those who know me well know that I try to view things with a positive attitude (I whine of course, but I get over it.) That at times sarcastic humor at is a huge coping tool. My lawyer, well one of three of them, is always telling me, "You are the most positive and laid back client that I've ever had." I know, me??!

I have lived with the fear of all fears since September 11, 2001. I vowed to not let those fears dictate my life, my choices my happiness. I was talking to my sister, my lifeline, yesterday about fear (because of course if I didn't have enough to deal with right now, yes, my PTSD has been rearing it's ugly head lately) and our mom's death. It got me to really start thinking. Fear for me the last few months has been paralyzing. I've been stuck on so many levels. At the same time, fear can also be liberating; give you the kick that you need to take those risks. I went to bed last night feeling paralyzed by so many fears and the tears to prove it (and might I add looking extra pathetic in my Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer pajama bottoms and Bizarro tee shirt-fear should have been looking in the mirror.) I woke up this morning finding it hard to breathe.

And then I did look in the mirror.

I am not, have never been nor intend to ever be someone who doesn't do something, say something or write something because she's SCARED. I embrace life. I try my best to live in the moment and show up for those around me.

Well Steph, time to show up for yourself. So I'm back. I have found my big girl pants (figuratively not literally though I could have used them at a recent burger showdown in which the winner ate 3 burgers-1 deep fried, the equivalent of a baby of potatoes and finished it off with ice cream and a cupcake and no it was not me) and am ready. Ready to share my success, my failures, my discoveries, my mistakes, my thoughts, and yes my fears. I wouldn't be human if I didn't have fear. What matters is how I handle it.

So, there is SO much to write about in the world of Single Mama Steph. Here are just a few gems to look forward to:

1. For the first time in 10 years I am cleaning my bathroom again (I should have kept Zelia, WonderHouseCleaner-what was I thinking?)

2. That for the first time in my life, I now have to take the garbage out. I know, the suffering I am going through.

3. That my kids are writing a book called When Your Mom Looks Like Your Sister. Don't worry readers, you'll be able to buy it on ebay where the plan to sell it.

4. Not only am I in the middle of divorce proceedings, I got laid off too. Let's add job search to my plate because I do not want to be the only mom showing up to collect unemployment driving an X5.

5. Beyond my comprehension, when the kids are with me, I am like the Mexican Rachel Ray. These words were said to me, "You know mom, divorce has made you a better cook."

There is so much. There have been lots of tears, laughs, hard questions and hugs the past few months. And a lot of growing up. We vowed from the beginning to always put the kids first and that pretty much everything we do is for them and though that can be a tad bit difficult at times, we have stuck to it and it has paid off. I have some hard conversations with my two. I was so happy today when one of them asked how long we would be renting the house we're in and said, "I really like it here, you did a good job of making it a home."

And that dear readers, made me think of these words, "Happiness hit her like a train on a track....."

Here is the glorious Florence.

The Genius of Glow

2010-03-16T21:09:00.005-04:00

I have been OVERWHELMED by the support and love of the past month. My inbox is full of words of encouragement and support. I still haven't gotten back to everyone yet but I will I promise. I currently spend all of my time talking to my real estate agent, financial lawyer, divorce lawyer, real estate lawyer, mortgage guy, having daily outbursts like, "I feel like the stupid girl/wife who just signed what was put in front of her," "Bear with me, I've never bought a home on my own before," "Is this really my life right now?-that's actually my favorite one at this moment. Add that to working two jobs but most importantly, being there for my two bambinos, you could safely say that stress is high. Yet, yet, my mind is clear, I am taking deep, full breaths and am exactly where I need and want to be.

A home is my main focus right now. As the boy told me, "Mom, you're 38 and living at your dad's house. This needs to change." Followed by a smirk only he could deliver. A huge thank you to my Dad and V who have allowed me to stay at their home while they have been traveling the entire month. My invite extends when they get back next week and it looks like I'll be taking them up on that while I wait for my townhouse purchase to hopefully go through. I currently am staying at the house until the kid's bed time, drive to Wellesley to sleep and am back in Wayland by 6:15 in the morning. The whole sleeping on the couch thing was so not working out for my lower back.

I have gotten so much advice, all of it well intended, all that I respect. And all that I welcome. Am so thankful that so many people care. But last night I got what is probably the vibrant advice so far from of all people, my esthetician, Glow. I am dead serious.

Glow is facial and waxer extraordinaire. I have known Glow for about 18 months now. She knows all about me, my family, my friends. Glow sees all sorts of people in all stages of their life. She knows her, pardon my language here, sh*t.

Glow was on fire last night. She had words of advice for everything about my life, including what mascara to try next. All of this while inflicting pain with strips of wax. And the strange thing is, I think her words of advice are the words I needed to hear to wake me up and make me see. Just see.

Her message was simple and clear; live your life. Embrace your future and all of the possibilities even if they may not make sense. Don't be afraid to take chances; put yourself out there. Love your children, love yourself, have fun (swear to the wax goddess herself she was saying all of this with her Brazilian accent which just made it sound even more endearing.) My new home; make it full of light and love. Reminded me of my strength and my energy. My divorce; as quick as possible but make sure you get what is fair and don't put the kids in the middle. Glow is a product of a nasty divorce and it still haunts her to this day even with a loving husband and adorable daughter. She told me to look at what didn't work and what was missing in my marriage and think about what I want and need in a new relationship. To start dating sooner then later, "Stephanie, you're only 31, go out and have a little fun." I reminded her of my actual age and she looked at me in disbelief and said, "No, No!" I told her, her facials are doing their job.

So I'd like to thank Glow who in 30 minutes gave me the kick in the butt that I needed all while beautifying my 31 oh no she's really 38 year old self. Glow, you rock!

Of course I wouldn't be me if I didn't wallow in self induced disbelief, contemplation and feelings of being lost set to of course the absolute most woe is me music. I have made fun of someone I know because this Coldplay song killed him after a bad break up (and who know is in an amazing relationship). I have been known to start singing it to when moments of Smirky Steph come on. So what did I find myself doing last night in my dad's empty house in Wellesley? I played this one repeatedly. And of course let him know what a loser I was for it and to go ahead and make fun of me. If you can't laugh and make fun of yourself in instances like these, then all is really lost. Seeing how I laugh and make fun of myself on an hourly basis, I'd say I'm not lost.

A New Chapter

2010-03-03T20:52:00.014-05:00

On November 12, 2007, I started this blog to chronicle my training for my second Boston Marathon. As you long time readers know, I have rarely discussed my marathon training and this became a forum for my inner dialogues, music, my kids, the CP crew, my crazy group of friends, more music, some fashion and my falls of the wall a la Humpty Dumpty. What I never wrote about, and it was the real reason I ran the marathon and started writing again was my marriage. I didn't run my second marathon to set a PR or to do it for the experience, I did it because I saw my training as a trial. A trial to save my marriage. The plan was to use the 18 weeks to make a decision and then after the marathon act upon my choice. I made a choice and looking back should have bought stock in Band-Aids.

Two years, 3 1/2 months later I find myself out of Band-Aids and getting a divorce.

There, it's out. I apologize for those of you who didn't know and are finding out this way. The last few weeks have been complete chaos and I have lost track of who knows and who doesn't. Finally someone said, "Just blog about it." I've been hesitant; this is a very personal and private experience for my family. I respect their privacy and feelings. Yet this is also my forum. I have been candid about the experiences of Steph while doing my best to respect the privacy of those around me. I need to write during this. I have to write during this.

I find myself a 38 year old soon to be single mom with 2 incredible kids and a psychopath chihuahua. I find my days filled with calls to the mediator, lawyer, therapists, work, real estate agents, financial advisors. And though my mind is at times full of clouds, for the first time in years I can breathe. Really and truly deeply breathe. I am at peace. This was without a doubt the most difficult decision I have ever had to make. I tried. And tried some more. And more. Everyone in this situation deserved so much better than they were getting. Me. The soon to be ex. And my kids. We decided from the beginning that their well being is our priority and that as hard as it will be at times, we will treat each other and this process with respect and the commitment to do what is right for our kids even if it's not what we want. We even went on vacation together after telling them about it to prove that we are still a family, we will just look a little different. Yes, we're crazy. And yes we had the best family vacation that we had had in years. Tells you a little about the state of things in my marriage.

I thought about changing the title of this blog. Suggestions were Suddenly Single Steph, Separated Steph but none really clicked. And quite frankly, serendipitous still works. I always knew I had an amazing support system but have found myself overwhelmed by the love and support of family and friends. Until I find a new place ( and going out with the real estate agent tomorrow), we are "nesting." I am trying to be out of the house 3 nights a week which is what it will probably look like when everything has settled since we are splitting custody 50/50. I want the kids to get used to that (although they will be seeing me every day since I'll be with them before and after school regardless if it's a mom night or not.) Vic and I have both agreed that flexibility is key and we are both completely committed to that. I have open invitations with countless caring people. People have been so generous with their housing offers, words of support, love and comfort. There is no one to blame, no incident. Though painful, it was the right choice. No one close to us was surprised and there was some sense of relief. There is no Team Steph or Team Vic. We are both parents to 2 incredible kids and are finding a way to work together to parent them.

My children are our priority. And I must give my two credit for handling this with maturity. There have been tears, anger, well thought out questions and yes smiles. They both know we love them and that this has nothing to do with them. Our discussions range from holidays, future marriages (one of them is OBSESSED with marrying off one of us), dating ("Don't worry Mom, I won't Parent Trap you), whether or not I will buy them an XBOX at the new place and how some days are harder than others. One of them is trying to set up an profile on eHarmony for one of us. I kid you not.

There is so much to do and experience. I will be Stephanie Holland again. I will still be me. In fact, I'll be even more me. I really wish I could say that I was scared and maybe a little bit of me is, but I'm not. This has been coming for almost three years and I am ready. I am ready to embrace the uncertainty of my future. I am ready, so ready. I understand the tough times ahead, the changes in the dynamics of the relationships, the changes in lifestyle due to new financial realities. My sister, thank God for my sister, has been such a source of strength and a sounding board for me (I get now why she's a life coach.) She has asked me the tough questions, cried with me, supported me, laughed and loved with me. Called me out on stuff. My mom would have been so proud. She has encouraged me to really write about this process here; trying to navigate in a new world full of things that are quite foreign to me. All with my perspective that has made me me me here for the last 2/1 years. And of course my Fruity Patooty; would be so lost without her support, guidance and perspective having gone through this herself.

My kids are true gifts. Amelia is so like me, it's sometimes frightening. This one has such sweetness and strength.
And "the boy"-that's his new nickname. For good or bad, he got my feistiness and passion. A gift.

How can I not look forward to the future with these two by my side.

There are major changes ahead, transitions, adaptations. I have had to learn to be resilient. Yes this is a major change, but life goes on. I of anybody have learned that lesson. It is the one gift that I hope to have given the kids and from the almost last month, I have seen that.

Music will continue to be an outlet for my cleansing. For some reason, this one has been one that I keep coming back to.

To all of you in my life who have been there for me and my family during this time, I thank you from the bottom of my heart. Seriously.

Stillness

2010-02-09T20:36:00.008-05:00

I am not good at this. I want to say I don't know but that wouldn't be telling the truth. When I am still, it forces me to feel, be, think. The thoughts in my mind have nowhere to run to, nowhere to hide. I am forced to encounter them. Dare I say embrace them.

My life has been full of stillness lately. For some reason the past two weeks Tuesdays have been hard, so hard. I sit and stare. And stare some more. And get lost. Like I'm outside looking in. I've dealt with a lot but it's been bittersweet. I am on the brink of something, yet I seem to run out of gas and drive to get to the bottom or the top, pretty telling that I don't even know which end I'm looking for huh?

But today I could not be still. Last night we put down Ike, our 15 year old greyhound that we've had for 12 years. I had to be Mama Bear and lead the troops through the first cycle of their grief. Our family was full of stillness the past 24 hours. There are images full of sorrow, pain and love that will stay with me and pop into my head at the most unexpected times. My family, experts at death. But this was different. As I write I fully understand that I am not explaining this the way I normally would but maybe that's the point. It's still so fresh and raw and I can still hear the sobs of my children and Ike's lifeless body with the scarf that Amelia had made for him. I have forgotten or maybe shut out so much of my mom's death. I have become kind of immune to death. For me to cry at a funeral is rare. Yet as I write this there are tears running down my face and that's okay. This is Ike at his best-doing nothing. He was the sweetest dog even if he did poop in his sleep.

One, just one, of my major issues in my has been my reluctance to just jump in and feel. I over think everything. I'm actually kind of worst off tonight then I was last night. In fact last night I was pretty fine. And that's okay, I've always been a slow learner. Even though I have retired from distance running, a new theme in my life is to stop running away from emotions and feelings and instead sprint towards them. I'm feeling kind of sad right now, sad that my family had to go through this, sad that we had to make a very difficult decision but also just sad. It is Tuesday after all. I am so incredibly thankful for the love and support from all of friends and family.

Of course the sound track to this experience has been slow, folky music. I have listened to this song like 1,000 times. Natalie Merchant has been big too but have listened to nothing but this song for the past hour or so.

I realize this is sporadic and disjointed and there is no flow but that's kind of me right now so I decided after decades of not jumping in, to jump in with both feet.

Finally, my top song of 2009-Company by An Horse

2010-02-01T20:26:00.012-05:00

It's over.

Lost about 9 lbs.

Kind of shocked, but my eating habits have completely changed. Pretty much ate Scaryway today. My first shopping trip to Whole Foods off of this and I splurge by getting a grapefruit and high protein oatmeal. Don't worry-I did re-enter the world of eating and spirits the right way over a 6 course, 6 wine pairing 4 hour meal. I'm pretty sure I kept looking at the bread and saying, "OMG, it's BREAD." I also find it kind of funny that during dinner I expressed to my dining companions that I would like to appreciate camping more (not really sure any of them believed me) and then a mere couple of hours later I find myself fine tuning my marshmallow roasting skills at a friend's house. See, I can rough it in my Citizens jeans, black cashmere and Tory Burch flats.

Will write more later about the entire experience but I really need to, and I mean that more from the internal need, to write about my #1 song of the 2009 seeing how it is February.

There were hints. Look at the quote underneath the blog title. D-u-h.

Company by An Horse.

I know, I know I've written about Shoes Watch here. But it's this one, this one that I think about in my sleep, that I sing in my head when I start to feel a tortoise moment (you know retreating, pulling back, pushing the remote control on the build a wall around Steph), when I think too much, when I don't think enough. I think, or rather I hope this song is about someone trying to change. Someone who is fiercely independent as a result of character and circumstance. Someone who is beginning to see the beauty in reaching out, letting people in. That surrounding yourself with company is not a sign of weakness but a celebration of self. Someone like me. This song is also known as Ledge (and of course I have the live version of that too)." I'm out on a ledge and I need the company." Notice the lyric doesn't say want, its says need. There is such a difference that I am slowly learning. Still not completely comfortable with either but I'm working on it. I don't see that as suicidal or anything like that. I almost see it as someone sitting on the edge of a board, or the edge of a cliff, feet dangling, feet dangling, just being there. Not wanting at all to jump off but to invite others on the ledge because for now, that's the only way she knows how to invite those in. "Come sit with me, this is me trying to be brave." So the ledge becomes full of different faces, just sitting, just being. Conversation, silence, a knowing look, a hug, laughter, tears. The point is no one should be on their ledge alone. You need company.

I mean seriously, so many lyrics to this song just scream me. "Oh please don't think too much, because I can't let you in, because these walls have been built." "I'm trying to get you in, I'm trying to get you over, I'm trying to be brave."

And the music; has that build up. Just listen to the first few chords. See, that's the beauty of An Horse. One drummer, one guitar. You can hear the intricacies in the build up. Really feel the momentum. Then it goes back down. And then at the end, they just let it all hang out.

In my newly highlighted red hair head of mine, I like to picture my ledge, my friend's ledges full of different people just hanging out to be there. Just be there for when that wall starts crumbling down. Then we can all roast marshmallows.

It's one month late, but I think worth it. Here it is.

Awoken

2010-01-26T20:51:00.007-05:00

4 more days.

Completely confident that I will hit my target loss of 8-10lbs. Got a lot of positive feedback last night when training, my favorite-"I just wanted to tell you that your fat loss program is working." And this said from NOT one of my posse (and btw posse, thanks for spreading the love last night.) I feel awesome. Leaner and stronger and full of energy. That I expected. But almost as beautiful as the new and improved me that her clothes fit so much better is the unexpected discoveries that I made. Shifting of the mindset was extraordinary.

I don't really watch t.v. I used to watch a lot more. I used to be a Gray's Anatomy Addict.

I haven't watched it in oh, over a year. But when one is hungry, tired and is doing everything within her power to stay out of the kitchen, one starts to watch tv to take her mind off of things. So last Thursday I found myself watching (well kind of watching.) I'm sitting there drinking my Steaz zero calorie blueberry pomegranate green tea when I hear this amazing song. Now, Gray's has ALWAYS played great music. I listen more carefully. OMG moment. I pull out the iPhone and Shazzam it. No, no, no the dialogue is blocking it from being tagged. I try like 5 times. Then I finally get it. Florence + The Machine? Cosmic Love?

I make a mental note to myself. As part of my Steph needs to prove to the world that she can go alcohol free for 28 days, I decide that if I can go to a Bruins game and not have a beer then I can go to a concert and not have a beer. I woke up last week NEEDING to go see live music. Looked around and saw that Nouvelle Vogue was coming. Sounded good to me. Truthfully, I would have gone to see Barney in concert. So I start trolling around iTunes to check out their new cd (btw, their cover of So Lonely-awesome) and remember about Florence. 90 seconds later I download the entire cd. Yeah, that kind of reaction. I give two copies to my concert companions (and btw Nouvelle Vogue was the most unexpected hot, sexy surprise ever-tons of Smiths covers and they just killed one of the most moody love songs ever, Love Will Tear Us Apart.) Reaction is universal; Florence is where its at.

I have spent all day listening to Cosmic Love. It is the most glorious song ever. It makes me want to put a crown of flowers in my hair, wear some blue flowing chiffon dress and go out and dance in the rain.

It makes me want to fly, throw petals in the air, rejoice to be able to feel the rain falling on my face, feel the mud squish between my toes. And dance. And dance. I don't even think it's supposed to be a happy song. Hearing this song somehow wakes me up from some slumber that I'm not even sure I knew I was in. Rejoice. That's my initial reaction.

I didn't know that was in me.

Wonder what I'm gonna find out about myself in the next 4 days of calculated starvation?

Here it is. Seeing her live is on my to do list. Like #1. Well, after buying my new pair of jeans.

StephSong #2; IGNORANCE.

2010-01-23T22:14:00.003-05:00

I figured I better get to song #1 of 2009 before its February 2010. Can I just say that I have been the movie queen during my 28 days of calculated starvation. Foreign films (Broken Embraces), bad kid flix (Spy Next Door), Worthy Hollywood Blockbuster (Sherlock Homes), and tonight took the kids to see the new one with Harrison Ford and Brendan Fraser. Oh, Brendan Fraser.............

Okay, song #2. Once again, totally shocked me but the honor goes to Ignorance by Paramore.

I love this band. I love Hayley.

Why this song? Because it rocks. It's angry. It's bold. It's one of my favorite to sing along to. To jump around to. And the lyrics; cuts to the chase, allows no room for ambiguity. It's about standing up for yourself towards people who just don't get you. Telling them your loss, not mine. Its kind of weird but just the other day I was having a conversation with someone about whether people can really change. Like a foundation change. Like unrecognizable change. This song is about change. Changing of dynamics in a relationship. The inability of some to deal with it and rather than try to adapt, just shut out. Thinking about it, I think that we're always made from the same ingredients, it's just the form that we choose to present ourselves in that changes. Sheet cake, cupcake, two layer cake......This song was a result from the band having a hard time with Hayley's shot to stardom. In reading interviews she kept saying, I'm the same person, the situation has just changed.

Does Paramore have other songs that are deeper, sadder, more thought provoking?

Yes.

But this one just rocks and basically tells those who don't get you to get lost. And is so much fun to scream to.

That in itself is worthy of spot #2.

Muchas Gracias Scary

2010-01-21T20:03:00.013-05:00

Day 19. I'm almost in the home stretch. And I just agreed to kind of extend it by 2 weeks. Kind of (don't fear all that I have made plans with; we are still going out and I am bringing it to the table.) I'm guessing when my 28 days is up, I will have lost 8-10 pounds. Former WSFL graduates warned me of the "plateau" between week 2 and 3 and they were right. They also informed me that one day you will wake up and boombala, start seeing the difference. They were right. Yesterday people at work were like, "Stephanie, you look amazing." Two people asked if I had gone tanning because I looked different. No, no tanning. The scary thing is I'm guessing right now I've lost between 5-6 lbs (editorial note just weighed; plateau broken almost at a total loss of 6 1/2-yes!). Amazing what that can due to a midget. Today was the day that I really noticed and let's face it, it's all about what I think. Last night I met friends for dinner and put on the jeans that could barely fit in December. They actually fit now and the husband was like, nice jeans wife of mine. Today I put on the totally worn out but I love them so army green size 2 cargo pants that were tight and OMG they have room in them now. Do I still have work to do? Yes. But for the first time in two years, I'm starting to physically feel like myself again and it feels awesome.

Which is why I have to publicly thank Brian aka Scary.

This was taken a week before Boston Marathon #3. This always cracks me up (we were trying to be badass in this pic.) That's the face I typically get, yeah, I'm usually that pouty and smirky, he who is not my boyfriend (whom btw he and she who is his girlfriend, Vic and I are all going to a flamenco concert and Italian food together-that blog will be epic) is always going around CP flashing people the peace sign and who the hell is that at the end? Oh yeah, the chick I'm kidnapping with my sponsor in a couple of weeks because we miss her terribly and cannot wait to see her.

I didn't do Warp Speed Fat Loss. I did Scary Speed Fat Loss. Brian took the WSFL diet and the training and completely made it my own. He had done it himself and has seen clients do it. He knew what he wanted to change AND what he had to change to due all of my issues (and as we all know, they are volumes.) What I got was a customized nutrition plan and training program. Yeah he cut out almost all dairy, yeah he had to modify for all of the trap bar work because I'm forbidden from deadifting. Ever again. No more loading the spine.

He basically gave me 4 protein shake recipes, 4 different protein recipes and 3 options for my "carb meal". Breakfast every morning is the same; 1 cup veggies, 3 Omega 3 eggs. Everything has a calorie count, fat, protein, fiber count. When I asked for more options, he gave them to me but not before figuring out all the nutritional information. The training. What do you do when your client can't deadlift? Make her do 96 walking dumb bell lunges. I had a question about a product, timing of meals, consolidation of meals when I knew I was going out etc, he was the man to answer all of them.

When the idea to do this popped in my head, I really hadn't investigated it, I just knew that it produced results and that my friends had done it. I know, smart Steph, huh? Let me tell you, I wish I had done it earlier. Talk about a shock to they system. Unlike other programs, and I'm thinking Weight Watchers here, where you can build in a splurge or something like a glass of wine, or dessert, this thing was all about abstinence. And protein. And very calculated carb intake. Yesterday I met my grad school friends for dinner at Paparazzi, an Italian restaurant. I knew I was going to have to skip some meals and that salad and grilled chicken and veggies would rule. I was psyched because it was a higher carb day and was thinking I could save my carb for the night and have oh I don't know, have a roll. So when I trained I asked him.

"No. You have to eat it within an hour of training."

Insert smirky Steph face here.

Insert smirky Scary comment here.

"You're the one who wanted to do this. Any other time, I would say yes but it's called WarpSpeed Steph. I have no sympathy for you."

The words I needed to hear. Went home and made out with my Ezekial english muffin and 1 tsp peanut butter.

I've also decided that I'm going to go on a transitional 2 week phase after this is officially over. I know now what I need to do. I have never felt so great, my mind so clear and so energized. My family's eating habits have changed too and I am so excited to finally start trying some of the recipes in Gourmet Nutrition. Yes, ScarySpeedWarpSpeed is so strict that I can't even eat out of a cookbook hailed as one of the best for healthy eating.

Does this mean I'm never going to eat a pizza, hamburger or drink wine or beer again? Hell no. I must live you know. I think what it means is that I'm going to be much more diligent about meal preparation, make sure I eat protein at every meal and really try to limit the carbs to days I train. And really watch the sugar. It was the sugar that was my downfall. Even though there are times I feel like crying about having my mexican butt dumped by Mr. Keebler, Mr. Pillsbury and Mr. Nabisco, cutting out the processed sugar has made a huge difference. If I'm going to have a cookie, I'm going to make them. As far as training goes, in March I'm going to have to start training for my 24 hour relay in May in which I'm running a total of 17 miles over three legs. The goal here is to actually get faster and start doing some speed work and incorporate things in CP training to help me prepare and cut down on the mileage. I am really excited for this.

So what prompted this thanks? I think thankfulness has kind of gone out of style and that is just so wrong. People need to be thanked. I really had no idea until this week just how much he had to modify and really I think re-write it for me. And honestly putting on those two pairs of pants and having wiggle room after just 19 days made me so happy that I had to spread the joy. Aside from being the Carb Cop, yelling across the gym over the bad music, "Squeeze that ass Steph," giving me the face (and granted I earn some of them and have noticed that I am becoming more of a klutz which just adds so much to my already spunky-Amelia loves to call me that-persona-the other day I couldn't for the life of me figure out how to set up the band for pull ups even though I had done this millions of times and had to ask for help and got the face of all faces) Brian by far has the best taste in music at CP. I leave you with a song that he introduced me to and that has become a Steph fave. And just a warning; I'm still going to be smirky and yell things like I hate you when I'm on my 78th lunge. Just know that I am a deeply thankful hater.

"Mom, I've been looking on the internet at pictures......."

2010-01-19T20:17:00.005-05:00

You can only imagine what I thought was going to come out of my 11 year old (yes, my baby boy just turned 11) mouth when he announced this to me the other night around midnight after I thought he was asleep and appeared in the living room.

Let's back up so you can appreciate the full effect of what he said.

Drew totally and completely cracks me up. I have shared some of my children's gems. But some of the stuff that comes out I am like where did you get this from? I really think he could be the next Matt Groenig a la Simpson fame. He's direct and to the point. Wonder where he gets that from. He definitely has some themes going; my apparent jealousy of my sister the former reality t.v. star (she is totally going to kick my Mexican booty for this one.)

That's her on the bottom in the middle. He's drawn pictures of her riding in a convertible and me sweeping next to her. He's always saying, "Aren't you so jealous of Aunt Jessica who lived in Hollywood and met famous people?" The list goes on. So its Christmas Eve and my sister and brother arrive and out of the blue Drew brings up her old show and says, "So Aunt Jessica, my mom tells me that the name of your show was called THE HOUSE OF FAILURE."

I look at him in disbelief and the rest of my family completely cracks up. Including my sister. For the record, I NEVER said that. He made that up. The boy is a genius. My sister happens to be doing extraordinarily well. In fact she's the happiest she's been in years and I am so proud of her. And I totally look up to her even though she's younger than me. So much so that I dress just like her.

Yes, we went out in public like that.

Another theme is that apparently many of my male friends are out to date me. I have had many conversations with my kids that color, religion, gender, shouldn't matter when having friends. What matters is the inside. Do your friends treat you well? I don't think they quite fully get it. Never mind that his father not only knows them, likes them and appreciates their kindness (providing entertainment at birthday parties, giving rides home when stranded etc.) I have taken my children to a movie theater to meet friends and Drew has announced for all to hear, "So, you know you can't date my mom because SHE'S MARRIED." The other day he announced to one, "So are you two boyfriend and girlfriend because remember, she's married." I shook my head in disbelief thinking not again (this is after giving him some unsolicited career advice, "Say you have some disease so they'll feel sorry for you and hire you." I am not lying.) But he keeps going. "Mom, I've been looking on the internet at pictures....."

My heart freezes. OMG, what has he been up to?

"I've been looking at pictures of 40 year old women and you know what? You look ten years younger than you are. Why is that? Why do I have to have a mom that everyone thinks is my SISTER?"

Okay first little one, I am so not 40 you should have been googling 38 year olds and ohh, that is the sweetest thing you've ever said to me. I assured him it's in the genes and he can only be so lucky to look young too when he gets older. The "sister" thing is another issue with Drew. Remember our trip to NYC ?

For the record, I asked him if he really thought that my friends were out to date me and he cracked up, "No way Mom. It was just a joke. You're way too old to be dating." Here's a picture of my little brother and I at his birthday party this weekend.

I'm on day 16 of Scaryspeed and it's going well. I did have a piece of cake at Drew's birthday party because I swore, I was never going to be one of those moms who didn't eat cake at their kid's birthday party.

Yeah, I do birthday cakes right.

I just got the new Muse cd to get ready for the concert and just like the title of this blog, found the most delicious musical treasure. This cd is amazing. I totally get now why Stephanie Meyer of Twilight fame writes to them. They are her favorite band. I couldn't make it past song 3. The lyrics are just killing me. And inspiring. Here's song two, Resistance, which I was blasting through my Hard Candy earphones while looking for coconut milk at Whole Foods. Over half way there...................

The Musical Goddess Has Struck

2010-01-17T20:11:00.005-05:00

Half way done.

Yes.

In the past 48 hours I have bought tickets to 3 concerts. And the best part? Remember my #1 concert of the year the triple bill of Silversun Pickups, Cage the Elephant and An Horse? I'm seeing all three of them SEPARATELY. OMG.

When one cannot eat or drink, one spends a lot of time on the web. After FB gets old, one trolls Amazon, catches up on blogs, checks FB, searches for concert tickets, checks FB. You see the disturbing pattern?

Nothing. Nothing was coming up. I was started to freak out. I had tickets to just one show, the XX. In April. April. I was losing my music mojo. Bad enough that I'm measuring cucumbers and look forward to drinking calorie free green tea. No concerts to look forward to?

And then, then, the musical goddess intervened and made this little Mexican munchkin quite happy.

First I heard Cage the Elephant was coming and quickly assembled a small group of 10 people to go.

There is no show like a live Cage show. Can't you tell? And part of the crew I'm going with are the same crew I went with last time. Friday, March 5th will be EPIC.

So I'm totally being distracted during a writing session and am telling the writing buddy how torn I am about the Silversun Pickups/Muse concert. The only tickets left were in the balcony and after seeing SSPU live upclose twice, I felt it was going to be disappointing. But then upon discussion decided that Muse is supposed to be awesome live and what the heck, let's go. On the next night. Saturday, March 6th will be EPIC. Two shows in a row Steph is back.

SSPU please play Sort Of.

Okay, I cannot lie. Actually I can but apparently I need to work on my poker face because right now I'm not a convincing enough liar. So, I've been a Muse fan for awhile. Why?

Like you had to ask. Doesn't it always come back to Twilight. That awesome baseball scene in the first movie, Supermassive Black Hole is playing. And yes, Eclipse is opening in June.

So life was great. Energized, got over my writing stump, half way to the end of calculated starvation, pants are looser. And then it got even better. I found out An Horse is coming. To the Middle East. Where I met Lizzie from Land of Talk. My heart is speeding up now as I write. FYI, I realize I am only on song #2 but song #1 belongs to An Horse (as did my album of the year.) Only one person knows what the song is. I'm pretty sure this information is safe. Saturday, April 17th. Good thing I'm not running a marathon two days later. And going with the same crew to see them that I saw them with the first time. Deja vu. I really don't care. An Horse is MY band. And no, never joke with me that if I can't go you will sell my ticket somebody who thought that was funny. It was not.

Of course, they are playing with some Kaki King chick. I check her out on iTunes and no way she did a lot of the music to August Rush, one of Steph'sfavoritemoviesbecauseofahotguy.

Can we say Jonathan Rhys Meyers?

I first fell in lust with him after seeing him in another Steph fave movie, Bend it Like Beckham.

Hot Irish soccer coach falls for dark haired, dark eyed girl. Wonder why I love this movie.

I leave you with my favorite Cage song, Soil to the Sun. And I would just like to say that the crew I put together for this one could not be more varied, different (hmm, same meaning different word?) but most of all FUN.

2 more weeks to go. Piece of cake. Or in my case 3 oz grass fed beef with sun dried tomatoes in it.

Stuck

2010-01-13T22:20:00.005-05:00

Writing again has dug up these feelings and emotions that I thought I had buried a long time ago.

Every time I start to write, I want to cry. The lump in the throat. The haziness in my head starts to cloud any coherent thought I have. And I just want to cry.

Why, why, why? I mean it can't be because I'm hungry, even though my stomach is growling. I mean I actually got to eat half a banana, 1 tsp of peanut butter and an Ezekial english muffin today. I heart "high carb" days.

If I were to guess, it's probably because even though I am this funny, spunky kind of wacky person, I have a whole lot of pain inside. I like to pretend there is less and that I've dealt with it because you know pain is so 2009. Or in my case 1971, 2001. And for some reason that's what my heart wants to write about but my stupid cold hearted mind is saying, I don't think so.

Well mind, I think so.

Nothing like telling yourself off on your own blog.

In my slightly catatonic state, this song started playing in my head (because yeah, I really do think in song.) Think its kind of fitting; Soon we'll be found by Sia. Trust me, we are on our way.

Song #3; Stillness is The Move

2010-01-12T22:06:00.008-05:00

I'm 1 hour and 52 minutes from the end of lowcarbnocarb day #2 and am wide awake and just got the sudden urge to finally write about song #3. One week into it, I'm down 3.8 and going strong. Legs are feeling slightly beat up but I'm good to go. I have gone out to eat twice, done the midnight meal stop at IHOP (let me tell you, their fruit cup is completely underrated), survived a delivery of oh I don't know 50 bagels delivered to my doorstep and navigated a gourmet bakery while placing Drew's cake order. I even bought lunch for a friend and watched that chili lover down it while I sat there with my chicken broth. Because you see, I've decided when this is all over, not only am I getting new swimsuits for Jamaica, I am driving straight to Sax and buying my ten pounds lighter ass a pair of Citizens skinny jeans.

I actually listened to song #3 pretty much all day today. And I'm not kidding. So, what is it?

Stillness is the move by The Dirty Projectors

I saw them perform this live when they opened for TV on the Radio and was completely taken. Their cd, Bitte Ortica, was on many critics best of lists last year.

For me, this song is all about. You know, there really isn't a word. Part seduction, party sexy, part soothing, part grooving. I do realize that entire sentence made no sense. The combination of the instruments, the women's voices. Takes me to a place where one can let go, lose themselves slowly to the beat and then just wait. I mean think about the title, Stillness is the move. That is so anti our culture. We are so quick to react (and I the Queen of Reaction right here thank you.) One of the things I've been working on is patience. Waiting things out. Perhaps one of the reasons I am putting myself through these 28 days of the cleanest eating I have ever done in my life. It's all about self-discipline. Yet, one of my other goals is to be more forthcoming and take risks so that kind of puts me nowhere huh? Okay, how did an entry about this song end up about me? Hmm, Steph, let's think about that.................

Now if I put this song to a scene in a movie it would be to lots of close ups, close ups of faces, a hand, a neck. Lots of glancing. Observing the most miniscule movements. So imagine my surprise when I finally watched the video tonight and OMG it looks like it's set in some polygamy sect in Utah or some handmaiden camp in the hills of Austria. With llamas. Or are they alpacas? Anyways, totally not what I expected but oddly the video worked for me.

Okay, so now I'm really thinking about the lyric, stillness is the move, and will fall asleep tonight pondering this. I get how stillness is the move. But how is it different than moving? Is it proactive, reactive? And at what point does stillness become stillness? This dear readers is what happens to your mind on a low carb day. I think I kind of like it.

Shifting Steph's Mind

2010-01-08T19:43:00.018-05:00

It's amazing what the power of shifting your mind about something can do. Up until my big a-ha moments last week, I was going into ScarySpeed looking at it as to what I was giving up and couldn't do and had images of myself being pretty miserable for 28 days. I am on day 6 of day 28 and let me tell you, I feel renewed.

The Nutrition

I'm eating real food. Everything that Scary has written for me has reason that it's going in my mouth. None of this 100 Calorie pack crap. Real food. People are shocked that I'm eating eggs not egg whites. Seriously. I have 5-6 meals a day. And let me tell you at first I was like there's no way I can eat 6 meals. People, I got back from the Bruins game last night and ate my 3 oz of chicken, 1/2 cup cucumbers, 1/2 cup tomatoes, 2 tbs feta cheese and 2 tbs balsamic vinegar/1 tsp olive oil like I had never eaten before. I can say this having dieted before. Dieting is not hard. People fail because they are lazy. It has taken serious work to pull this off. The shopping, the prep, the dishes (the hubby is dish guy and he is ready to kill me from all of the dishes-think Jamaica honeybun.) And like everything else in life you have got to want it. I knew there would be no alcohol and very limited carbs but it's the sugar thing that I kind of underestimated. There are no fat free puddings or jello-cups or Cool Whip. I kid you not when the pomegranate seeds in my greek yogurt today tasted like candy. Tonight for meal 5 (and am seriously looking forward to my protein shake in about one hour) I had 3 oz buffalo, 1 cup veggies, 1 tbsp pesto and miracle noodles. I opened them up and Vic said, "Did one of the dogs just fart?" that was the smell that came out of the package.

Calorie free. Need I say more. I'll get more into the training next week once I've had the opportunity to experience each day of programming.

The Writing

So I had my first writing session on Wednesday night. Picture me with my laptop, pot of Roobios tea

completely stalling at my MacBook. Playing with my scarf on my head, staring blankly at the screen, fighting the urge to check my Facebook. The environment so conducive to creative flow; warm, cozy coffeehouse with people in all types of discussions. There was even a guy playing guitar. And I was terrified to even put my fingers on the keyboard. Until my writing partner told me "Stop thinking and just start writing." And I did. I wrote 4 pieces. 4 pieces. Granted one was 2 lines long and the last is what I think will become a routine for me at the end of a session; reflections and observations and hopes for the next time. I even shared them which for me is unheard of. Unheard of. But the flow is beginning to come back and the fear floating further and further away. It's funny, when I was packing all of my stuff up to go, my kids couldn't understand why I just couldn't write at home. I can. But to actually set aside time each week makes it a priority and reminds me of why this is so important. I told them this and that I wanted to write a book. This they loved. The next morning at breakfast they had one million questions about what I wrote about. I need them to know how important this is to me and I think it's becoming important to them. They have a ton of ideas about what kind of book I should write. I love it. I think they're hoping for a Twilight. Not so sure that's where it's going to go but if it is Taylor Lautner is so going to be in my movie. Or his chest. Either is fine.

The Social Life

I knew sleep was going to be key, in fact thinking of going to bed shortly, and knew that the going to bed at 3 or 5 a.m. in the morning of The Steph Farewell Tour could not happen. I knew movies would be big (going tomorrow night to see the new Pedro Aldomovar and on Sunday the hubby wants to see the new Michael Cera. I love Michael Cera) but was kind of grateful that I had no concerts planned or anything like that.

Then the opportunity came up to go to the Bruins game last night. We all know how much I love the fighting that goes on on the ice but saw this as an opportunity to actually learn about the game too. I gave fair warning and told him I couldn't eat or drink but that was totally fine with him. OMG dear readers, it is possible to go to a Boston sporting event and not drink a beer. Or three. The seats were awesome (even if we were surrounded by nacho eaters of all ages) and I got to see up close just how big Chara was.

I was told he was 7 feet with his skates on. I was in complete awe.

Once again this week I was reminded at how important it is to surround yourself by people who are supportive of your goals. Most of my friends are kind of, no, really, very fitness/nutrition oriented. Marathoners, tri-athletes, people who just like to lift. Like me, some belong to more than one gym, have a personal gym, travel with containers of prepared food. Thinks Chobani is one of the most beautiful words in the world, can discuss supplements and post-recovery shakes, flax vs hemp etc. No one has looked at me strangely when taking out plastic containers full of chicken or asked for tips on trying to smuggle in a protein shake to the Garden. These people all get it.

I was going to leave you with song #3 but after seeing this posted on Cressey's blog today, I HAD to post. This dear readers is the guy who rolls his eyes at me, says things like, "How long have you trained here Steph?", has written things like 100 prisoner squats and this killer circuit of 15 reps each (my arms were spaghetti), has made flax and chia seeds taste good and reprimanded me for putting skim milk in my coffee (NOT doing black BSP so let me have my 2 tbs of skim milk.) I saw this and was seriously scared. And then LMAO.

Immunity

2010-01-05T20:58:00.003-05:00

So, instead of writing down a very long and boring review of what exactly ScarySpeed is, I think I'll just reveal the true gems of this program through reactions, thoughts I had. I mean the important things to know are:

1) 6 days of training. 3 @ CP full of lifts and circuits, 3 cardio (mix of intervals and sustained cardio) and one day off.

2)Three types of eating days: High Carb (meaning that on the days after I lift I can eat oh, a sweet potato, Ezekial wrap or one serving of quinoa.) Normal carb (translation, yeah I can eat fruit-this happens on cardio days.) Low carb (really should be called no carb because let me tell you, there are no carbs. This is on my day off.)

3)Meals are strategically planned-typically 5-6 small meals.

Today was my day off.

Today was hell.

I have been sticking to this thing to the T. I once again cannot say enough about the support system I have at CP and with my friends. People checking in on me, sending motivational thoughts, sharing recipes. And let's face it, total goal is 10 pounds. Like I said tonight, I want things to fit better. You know how you go in for a haircut and people go, "Just clean it up, give me a trim." That's what this is all about. The first two days went so much more smoothly than I thought. I mean look at my program after training session #1 last night:

I haven't sweat like that in awhile. I will go over each training day eventually. Scary had to modify it a lot and I think what he's done is actually going to be better then the last hell he put me through. I have a food journal. I run product/serving questions by him and my sponsor. I measure. I actually feel really good and hadn't really experienced severe hunger pains until today.

As I type my stomach is GROWLING. Growling.

So what does a low carb day look like exactly:

Meal 1: 3 Omega 3 eggs and 1 cup veggies

Meal 2: 1 serving chicken soup

Meal 3: 1 scoop protein powder, 6 oz unsweetened almond milk, 1 scoop SuperFood. Super what you ask?

The stuff that comes out of Chunky's butt has got to taste better than this. Awful. But I did it.

1 tbs flax seed, cinnamon. ice and 6 almonds.

6 almonds.

Meal 4: 3 oz lean protein (tonight salmon), 1 cup veggies, spinach, 2 tbs balsamic vinegar, 1 tsp olive oil

Meal 5: 1 serving chicken soup

Add a lot of green tea and water and presto you have a starving Steph. Calorie total: 1054. 1054.

I knew today was going to be hard and it was and but I did it. I was told by someone wise that my immunity to seeing other people eat would grow. And he was right. Tonight when Vic went into the chips, I gave him a dirty look but was not in the least way tempted. The first night in all of this, my family ate Bertuccis. My initial reaction was that they all suffer severely for that. Now I only wish that they maybe suffer from quick stomach pains. Very quick.

I was reminded last night that in many cultures and religions fasting or eating little is a way to cleanse not only the mind but the body and spirit and to await the enlightenment that could occur. I liked that. So how do I usually find my enlightenment?

Music.

So I'm driving, listening to the new Mary J Blige. Not nobody can sing it like Mary J. When I'm feeling a 2 ball moment coming on, I channel my inner MJB. Meaning look sharp and rock the Dior sunglasses.

So I'm driving, hoping to get something extra out of her new cd that my normally carb full body would have missed and the following song, Good Love, comes one. Funky beat, I'm like grooving in the car and then these lyrics come on:

"Sexy boy, sexy boy won't you be my, ALMOND JOY, CHOCOLATE KISSES."

Seriously MJB?

Apparently I need to work some more on my immunity.

I vowed earlier to have an entirely new perspective on this entire thing and that's what I'm doing over the next two days. Tomorrow is my first writing session and you should know that when I said I'm going to do it, I'm going to do it right. Found a great coffee shop with free wi-fi and awesome ambience. And instead of being a hermit all month, on Thursday I'm going to a Bruins game because apparently there is no right guard in hockey (I mean don't you think that sounded like there should be) and I need to learn a few things.

Here's the song that made me want to drive to Hershey, PA for an orgy of the chocolate kind. But I didn't. Road trip in February?

The Farewell Tour took a detour.

2010-01-03T18:47:00.011-05:00

No, I have not forgotten about song 3, 2, and 1. I will get to them.

Yes, today is day one of ScarySpeed. More on that later (and I got myself a ScarySpeedFatLoss sponsor-he has no idea what he signed up for but I thank him from the bottom of my heart. And dude, the family eating pizza in front of you immunity better come quickly.)

Yes, I have one million other things to do and in the last week on 4 nights got an average of 4 hours of sleep. 4 hours. The only thing that I can do and honestly want to do is write.

Did you notice that the title of this blog changed? That's due to the wonderful discoveries during the "Steph's Farewell Tour" in getting prepared for my 28 days of circuit training, 1,200 calories (and oh yeah, he took out most dairy but you know what, no more whining. ScarySt.Pierre knows his sh*t and I pretty much just handed over my life to him for the next 27 days-and btw 4 Sundays from tonight I will be stuffing my face with my sponsor, his wife and the husband. And you can bet I'll be eating cheese.) I had viewed this last week before I started as a sort of playground for the fun, spirit, spirits and culinary indulgences. But what I NEVER expected was to meet a new Steph, and, and look at the next month in an entirely different light. Hold on, I have to go make my protein powder, almond milk, flax seed snack. Yum.

I used this vacation to spend time with my family and friends. Connect, re-connect. I had some truly enlightening conversations with just about everyone I hung out with about every topic you could think of. And there was a shift somewhere in there in me. I, the not shy bigmouth can actually close up pretty quickly about things and those closest to me call me on it all of the time as they should. I've started to not close up. This is huge. HUGE. I think that for so long I saw reaching out to people as a sign of weakness. I was so not into vulnerability. I am so now getting how exposing a little can be the most gratifying thing in the world. I who loves to talk does not necessarily always speak up so the difference? That has started to change. Didn't see it coming but am running with it. And speaking of running, I mean I actually called Fruity one morning and was like do you want to go on a talking run? I think she almost fell out of bed but off we went and did some great connecting. And laughing of course. We both declared 2010 as The Year of Having 2 Balls. Translation; standing in your high heeled shoes and being heard.

And I was all touchy feely too. I was a hugging machine on NYE. Someone I know called it Hugfest 2009 and said he should have sold tickets. I mean just take a look.

The backwards overhead hug.

The circumference hug.

The get her from the behind hug.
And a Fruity/Frooty hug.
Okay, I'll admit it. I'm starting to like hugging. Whatever.

So last night I had my Last Supper at Mistral in Boston and 4 hours later and things like figs, duck, venison, arugula and lots of wine I had another a ha moment. I had been looking at this month as all about deprivation but the idea was proposed to me that perhaps I will discover new things about myself, find new outlets. OMG, why hadn't I thought of that? I am going to discover every kind of tea that was made on this planet, am going to read more, am going to go to the movies more and here is the biggie, start to write. What at first I am not sure but just start writing. Once a week put aside special time for me just to write. Brilliant.

So even though I am not a New Year's Resolution person at all, I start the first full week in January doing all of the cliche things:

1) Severe nutrition plan

2)Intense workout schedule

3)weekly goal to write every week

I went into the past week thinking it was going to be all fun and games and dreading the next month. I go into January with more self-awareness, the 2 ball courage to be heard and pure excitement to see just how many ways I can prepare quinoa (which is only on elevated carb days which is only 3 days a week; Scary just sent me my meal plans and training program and this entire thing is fascinating and I really think I just wrote back to him, "You are awesome" yet more proof that the Touch Feely Fairy somehow put something in my protein shake) how many books I can read and losing myself to the cinema hopefully once a week. Time for my green Roobios tea. I have this amazing support system around me, lots of lifejackets to get me through ScarySpeed (and life in general.) Their enthusiasm and support is what is going to make the difference. That and the fact that I will be living in a bathing suit next month in Jamaica.

I leave you with a song by Ra Ra Riot called Oh, La. The chorus beautifully illustrates the detour of Steph's Farewell Tour;

"Oh la we've got a lot to learn from each other

we've got to stick together."

At first I thought that it was about learning from your friends. Maybe it is, but in my case its the different layers of me talking to each other, learning from one another. Deep I know and on only 4 hours of sleep.

Roslyn

2009-12-31T16:16:00.002-05:00

Yeah, so I'm way behind in my countdown here but let's get serious, spending time with my family and friends and food is the priority here since it's 3 days until ScarySpeed.

So I am still wearing the same clothes as I was yesterday (slept in them in fact), still have to work out, am running on my second night of 4 hours of sleep and am all sticky from making 80 Jello shots in preparation for tonight's NYE bash. I need to write and let's face it, if I don't do a song a day, Scaryspeed entries will be here before you know it and I really want to get to #1.

Song #4-Roslyn by Bon Iver and St. Vincent (New Moon soundtrack.)

Wow, really? Yes, really. For someone who loves her hard guitar lines and anthems of pain and anger, I am such a wuss when it comes to the songs that made me feel. This one is hauntingly beautiful. I love the concept of haunting. Most run away from it but I take comfort in it. I'm not sure why; something I'd like to explore next year in my writing. You can feel the sorrow and disillusion in this song. It's funny, I'd say up until this year, sadness and pain and that infamous lump in the throat was something I did my best to completely avoid. But something changed this year (as you all read) and I am more comfortable with exploring those emotions. Maybe because I know that it's not a destination but rather a place for me to explore. It has definitely shown in the songs that connected with me.

The heart is a strange thing; it is home to love, joy, empathy, kindness, pain, heartbreak and sorrow. I guess 2009 was my year for finally exploring all areas. And this song, it was like I was stuck in Sorrow City. And of course because I picked it, I can also watch the New Moon trailer.

I'm not a New Year's person, and I wrote that last year too. Tonight at the strike of midnight I will HUG people, perhaps wipe some tears and take time to remember those that are gone. And then take the time to pay gratitude for those who are here. And then think, holyeffineclairs, there are only 2 more days........

Make Every Word Hurt

2009-12-29T23:43:00.005-05:00

Okay, so I'm behind but let me just say that Night 1 of Steph's Farewell Tour was epic and I think that some of the posse I hung with are still recovering almost 24 hours later. Word to the wise; never trust a bunch of people who say, "Sure Steph, we'll drive you home" who are on their third round. Who knew I had a chauffeur?

And before I begin Song #5, I want to put in a plug for The Blind Side. Drew and I had date day today and saw it. Yeah, it was kind of sappy, predictable and slightly formulaic but I loved every minute of it. The best part; half way into the movie my boy leans over and says, "Mom, you are JUST like her."

OMG, the little not so little dude is right. I may not be blonde but Sandra Bullock's character is a force of nature; quick talking, energetic, takes things into her own hands, stylish, manicured nails, drives a BMW, fiercely loyal to her friends and family and is a mama lion protector. She takes care of people. I totally get that. And why. Best line in the movie, when someone tells her she's changing his life, she says "No, he's changing mine." And of course you know who is tearing up during this scene. Yet she is slightly vulnerable and closes up at critical times. And it's young Michael who calls her on it and helps her to change.

Song #5-Make Every Word Hurt by Lori McKenna.

How good is this song? So good that it's not even recorded yet. I have to go to YouTube to listen. The chorus, the chorus KILLS me. It's a break up song. It's a song about losing someone you love and asking that person that when they end it, to do so with anger and malice. Make it very clear that it's over, finito, done with. None of this oh we can still be friends crap.

"If you're going to tell me you don't love me anymore, make every word hurt."

Lori, you are a freakin genius. I couldn't agree more. Let's face it, aren't most break ups ugly? I mean don't you laugh when hear that "so and so broke up but will remain good friends." You know what, if you are divorcing and have kids, I get that you must be cordial and really have to try to be friends to make it work for the kids.

I get that during a break up, the last thing you might want to be is verbally cut down by your soon to be ex but think about it, it really is a good idea. I mean, even if you aren't so sure that you should be breaking up, after hearing about all your shortcomings and personality faults, that would pretty much seal the deal. Sometimes, sometimes, things need to get UGKY (ooh, that was a typo but I love the new word-half ugly +half yucky=ugky) to get the picture. Kind of like what Edward did to Bella in New Moon (you knew I had to get my New Moon reference in somewhere here.) Let the tongue be a sword of heartbreak. No Steph, you did not just write a sword of heartbreak. Time for some sleep but I didn't want to lose a day on my big countdown here.

But before I go, I had my nutrition consult tonight in preparation for ScarySpeedFatLoss which starts in 5 days with Scary tonight (whom by the way my little sis completely agrees with the name I gave him.) Words like chia seeds, flax seeds, and almond milk are still ringing in my head but 4 numbers is really all what it's all about.

1,200.

Yeah, I heard those words and they seriously hurt.

Steph's Top 5 cds of 2009

2009-12-27T20:24:00.007-05:00

I am having way too much fun doing this. So last night the Top 5 concerts of the year, tonight the top 5 cds and then each day leading up to 2010, I dedicate to my top 5 songs. Songs are everything to me. Everything. It can change my mood, make connections that weren't even there and melt, destroy and elate me.

But an entire cd is an entirely different matter. The whole thing has to work, flow like a well written book. It must have many dimensions and layers yet there must be a common thread. The benchmark in pure musical excellence for this is of course Radiohead, In Rainbows. I actually gave this cd as a gift this Christmas and didn't burn it. I bought it because it's just one of those things that you have to own. I feel like I'm opening up ('cause I'm so shy here) when I give someone In Rainbows. Soundtrack to one of the most critical times in my life. Okay, how is it that I always go off on In Rainbows tangents??? That should tell you right there what that cd means to me.

So I knew what #1 was going to to be and am kind of surprised as to what did make it and what didn't. Here we go:

5. Swoon, Silversun Pickups.

Alternative rock at its best. This group keeps getting tighter and tighter with each cd. This cd is their most sharp yet, harder guitar lines but what holds it together is Nikki's bass playing. I love this cd because of the bass lines. Who loves a cd because of the bass? And I have NEVER thought Brian sounds like Billy C. from Smashing Pumpkins but his voice has definitely matured into it's own on this one. Standouts include; Sort Of, Panic Switch and There's No Secrets This Year. And yeah, I love this one so much I gave it a a birthday gift.

4. Cage the Elephant, Cage the Elephant.

Okay, iTunes calls them alternative but I would create a new genre for them; get down, get dirty southern alternative rock. I don't lie (well most of the time); I listened to this entire cd maybe twice before I saw them live and had my epiphany. This entire cd just puts me in a good mood. My kids love this cd. You cannot listen to this cd and not move the body. That being said, their two singles from it, James Brown and No Rest for the Wicked, my least favorite songs on it. Standouts; Tiny Little Robots, Judas and Soil to the Sun. I expect great things from this band.

3. The xx, The xx.

Another debut album but this time from what can only be called an English Emoish but not really Emoish electronica, moody band. My sister got this for me for Christmas so I've only been listening to it for 3 days and yeah it's that good it got #3 on my list. I described it to her as sexy, seductive, sad mood music. I'm listening now and it makes my stomach do flip flops, makes the hair on my arms stand up, makes my throat hurt and my heart beat faster. Sh*t, maybe this should be #2 or #1? Two lead singers; male and female. No drums. Her vocals, I don't even know her name yet, but her vocals make me want to grab something, fall to the floor and surrender. Problem is, I'm not sure to what. Standouts; Shelter, Islands and Crystalised. And God help whomever goes with me to see them in April (pretty sure the hubby passed on this one.)

2. Brand New Eyes, Paramore.

This one kind of surprised me that I put at #2 but I did and it is very deserving. Hayley and the boys delivered on this one. She tells a story of their rise to fame and the friendships that were damaged and almost lost. What makes the songs work on this one is that she just doesn't sing, she uses her voice as an instrument and by that I mean she's so in sync with what's going on. The lyrics have just enough eff you you ahole in it but with sweetness. I also love the fact that this is the first cd my mini me and I have completely bonded over. It's angry but vulnerable. And the acoustic stuff; such great lay on your bed looking aimlessly up at the ceiling music. Standouts; Ignorance, Brick by Boring Brick, The Only Exception, Misguided Ghosts.

1. Rearrange Beds, An Horse.

We knew there was no question here. And I am not in the minority, this cd along with The XX has been listed on many critic's best of lists this year. This is my In Rainbows of the year. A two person band; one guitar, one drum. The lyrics are like the inner dialogue that goes on in my head every single day. It's all about falling down, crumbling down, getting back up and trying again. About putting yourself out there with no safety net. Taking risks. Following your heart then your mind then back to your heart and forgetting where the hell you ended up. About the silence, the little things. The music; kind of a throwback to early alternative/new wave guitar. And I love the fact that she has an accent when she sings. Totally goofy on my part I know. They've been opening for Teagan and Sarah on their Canadian tour and T and S are coming to Boston in Feb. I can't even name a T and S song but you bet if An Horse is opening for them I will buy front row tickets off of Craiglist. And there is only one person, a person who can quote their lyrics like me, tell the difference from the first 3-4 notes between their live stuff and studio stuff, that I would even consider taking. I don't mess around when it comes to An Horse people. Standouts; Postcards, Company, Horizons, Scared as f*ck and Shoes Watch. OMG, I just had the most delicious idea ever; what if, what if, An Horse and the xx toured together. Cardiac arrest. Cardiac arrest.

Runner up: New Moon Soundtrack, Various Artists

Don't laugh. How can one question a soundtrack with Death Cab for Cutie, Thom Yorke, Muse, The Killers and Bon Iver? The artists captured the sorrow in this film and the desperation and pain of Bella. Perfect late night blogging music.

Many didn't make it in the top 5; The Dead Weather by Dead Weather, Backspacer by Pearl Jam (that omission I'm sure will earn me extra sled runs at the gym), New Line on the Horizon by U2, It's Blitz by Yeah, Yeah, Yeahs, Bitte Ortica by Dirty Projectors to name a few. The biggest disappointment this year was the new one by Imogen Heap (I don't even remember the name that's how much I listened to it.) I adore Imogen but something went very wrong in the studio. It was overproduced, not really coherent. There were either great lyrics and messed up music or vice versa. There are a couple of good songs but the rest are like they are waiting for an identity.

So I leave you with one by the xx. FYI, one of their songs has made the top 5 songs of the year for me but this is not it. Aren't they just delicious?

Drumstick encounters, beer spilled on me and flaming heads at 23 shows-Steph's Top 5 Concerts of 2009

2009-12-26T22:18:00.018-05:00

Let me begin by saying that I just saw Avatar and can say that is was by far the most amazing movie I have ever seen. And I would like to publicly apologize to he who is not my boyfriend for making fun of him for 6 months about being so excited to see this movie. So sorry Broccoli Man.

So some of my friends have been asking if I'm going to blog about favorite music/concerts of the year and you know me, I can't say no, so have decided to do even one better. Top 5 cds, concerts and songs. That should take me to 2010 when then January will be full of ScarySpeed entries (and can I just say that one week from tonight I will be indulging in my last night of carbs and wine at Mistral in preparation for The 28 days of water and walnuts) so I thought it fitting for me to begin with concerts of the year.

Why just the Top 5? Because I hate Top 10s. It's like, please critic, can you narrow it down to just ten; be selective, make a cut. Ten? You allow the noteable but not really worthy in. Five is cut throat; you had to have delivered the goods.

Just what criteria went into the selection? Steph's love forthe band, the performance, venue, crowd, company. Really the overall experience. I even wasn't sure who was going to make the Top 5 until I started writing this and was kind of surprised. Let's begin with who I saw this year: Lori McKenna (twice), Ryan Montbleau, Morrissey, Bloc Party, Ozomatli, J Giels Band, Jessica Lea Mayfield/Dan Auerbach, Paramore/No Doubt, Snow Patrol/U2, Paper Route/Paramore, The Kills, The Pixies, An Horse/Cage the Elephant/Silversun Pickups, No Doubt, Land of Talk, Rodrigo y Gabriela, Arctic Monkeys, Kings of Leon, Yeah, Yeah, Yeahs (okay can I just say that as listing all of these I have already changed my top 5 twice) Dirty Projectors/TV on the Radio, Jonatha Brooke and The National. OMGSHB that's 23 concerts. Damn, I'm good. I had tickets to go see The Breeders and The Cult but we couldn't go due to illness so that would have made it 25. Almost a month full of concerts. I'm getting chills here. Who did I not see that I am kicking myself? The Dead Weather and Bat for Lashes.

Here we go; and the exciting part is I know who #1 is but have no idea of the top 4.

5. Yeah Yeah Yeahs at The Orpheum, September.

I actually went with the hubby to this one (and can I just say that I ask him first to go with me but he is very selective because of the whole I have to wake up at 4:00 a.m. and I totally respect that. He even suggests to me now who to take and strangely, I take his advice.) I'm not sure why I didn't find out YYY were coming until two weeks before the show but I immediately texted the hubby and asked and his response; f*uck yeah. It didn't matter that it was on a Monday night or Jewish high holiday. We're both huge YYY fans and were not going to miss this one. Karen O is a force. A force of nature. She COMMANDS the stage and can do that sexy, angry wail like no other. I wish they had sung Man and Down Boy Down but they sang Maps an all time favorite Stephsong and ended with Date with the Night that shook me so much I think I may have tinkled in the Joes it was that good. My only regret was that he who is obsessed with music more then I and his lovely wife couldn't come with us because whatever, surgery got in the way.

4. Paramore (Paper Route opening) at House of Blues, October.

Wow, another girl fronted band. We all know the sad story of how Paramore opened for No Doubt but I only caught the last song because I was too busy stuffing my face with some blue cheese bread. Serves me right. I saw them do Decode and was impressed. Then I got sucked into Twilight and after I watched the movie became obsessed. Like listening to all their cds while taking long walks and belting out they lyrics obsessed. I even got mini-me obsessed. Just before she went to bed tonight we were watching the Brick by Boring Brick video. This one I went to with Heidi and her sister and a bunch of my CP friends (yeah and way to go he who is more musically obsessed with me for not going to this one either.) Hayley Rules. She really does. Powerhouse in a puny body. And the band, the band blew me away. A great combination of old and new stuff though it's their acoustic stuff that I wish they had done more of. I really think when I heard the first notes of Decode, I felt a wee bit faint. And let's not forget, I got hit in the head with the drumstick.

3. Kings of Leon, Comcast Center, September 11.

Okay, the date enough had this concert to be destined for greatness. The fact that McK (and he who is more musically obsessed-wow, I'm sensing a pattern here are you?-were supposed to go but couldn't) made me sad but, and I really do believe this, everything happens for a reason. I ended up going with my sister (who had never heard of them), Nickerson (who showed up with bells on ready to rock), Rob and his friend (who knew every song and sang along )and on a whim invited he who would eventually become my concert bodyguard/tissue holder. We were in the pit. The pit. You couldn't get closer. Honestly, probably the best set list of the year. Crawl and Closer by far the standouts. And Caleb, oh Caleb why couldn't you have drooled on me? The fact that it was pouring rain I think kind of added to it. And I also had a river of beer in my shirt but what they hey, does the wet tee shirt look every really go out at concerts? What I loved about it was it was so pure. A bunch of guys from the south playing rock and roll. No gimmicks, no frou frou. Just pure musical bliss.

2. The Pixies, The Wang Center, November.

I had waited for almost 20 years to go to this one and of course the fact that it was and still is one of the only bands the husband and I could agree on made it really special. In fact the hubby was willing to travel to Europe to see them; and he was dead serious. We went with Libby and her friend and from the first few notes was in almost a trance. Playing a 20 year old cd from start to finish takes guts and I loved the fact that they did that. They had these weird black and white images going on behind them that really worked. I could not have told you what I had for breakfast that morning but pretty much remembered every lyric to every song. My friend Nikole described seeing Frank sing live as he was singing to save his soul. I could not agree more.

So, who just landed in the #1 spot? There was never a contest for #1.

1. An Horse/Cage the Elephant/Silversun Pickups at Lupos, October.

This was without a doubt the musical experience of the year for me. My favorite place to see a band, some of my favorite people, I acted like an idiot when I met An Horse, hugged the Cage singer, a dude set his hair on fire, am pretty sure got more beer in my shirt than I did at KOL and I ended up at Sonsie for dinner at midnight (people, we started in Rhode Island.) What more could a girl ask for? And the best part is, I was psyched to go but not jumping out of my pants excited because I'd already seen SSPU before and had no idea about the other bands. Until.

We all know how I discovered An Horse a week before the concert and that their cd, Rearrange Beds, was my In Rainbows of this year. They blew me away just the two of them. We all know how much I love SSPU (this was my second time seeing them) and how Swoon is one of my top cds of the year. I knew it was going to be a good show but for some reason wasn't like "Oh yeah" about it. But what I was not prepared for was Cage. At all. And I think that maybe that's why this one is #1. Every single musician who performed on stage played for themselves, the music, the audience. And the audience was there to absorb, absorb and rock out. And the people I was with were up for anything and all completely busted up when burning hair dude tried to pretend that he did not have a burning head.

So of course there is a runner up. That would be Jessica Lea Mayfield and Dan Auerbach at The Paradise in November. Thanks to the bodyguard, we were smack up front. Miss Mayfield was sadness at it most simple and Dan was get down and rock out at its most simple. True, I lost my hearing for a few days but totally worth it. And I drank Miller Lite and am still alive.

Some concert highlights:

Best musician encounter: Lizzie at Land of Talk in November. And yes my brother got me an E.T. shirt for Christmas!

Best tailgate: Without a doubt, U2 in September. He who is musically more obsessed than I completely went overboard for this one. A beautiful day (aw, I didn't even mean to do that) with some awesome people (though this concert gets worst drive home; 4 hours. I'm still finding the pink tic tacs that I kept throwing in my mouth to stay awake.)

Best concert to dance at: Ozomatli at House of Blues in March. There is nothing like dancing at an Ozomatli concert. Nothing.

Best new song premiere: I'm always torn about this. I want to hear the songs I listen to everyday but get why artists do this. This one goes to Lori McKenna whose new song, Make Every Word Hurt, makes Beautiful Man look sound like Ring around the Rosy. HEARTBREAKING.

Best I left liking them more after the concert: The Arctic Monkeys at The House of Blues. I am a huge older stuff Arctic Monkeys fan but was slower to warm up to their new stuff. This all changed. Dance little liar Dance has been on my frequent play list every day.

Best OMG I hope I don't die concert: Brand New at Lupos. I loved going to this one because it wasn't my gig, it was BG's so I was like a newcomer. Had no idea BN's following was so intense and dedicated (and slightly EMOish.) I had so much fun trying not to fall on my butt and watching the moshers and the chick in front of my hit guys with her shoe. Now that I really think about it, I left that show with a shirt full of beer and sweat because it was sardinestanding room only down there.

I have learned a lot. Lupos is by far my favorite place to see a band even though it's in Providence. I am really not a huge venue person. Would much rather see a show in a more intimate setting. Even got smart and bought a concert pocketbook (Coach of course). Sqaure, slim and small and can fit just what you need. Can wear it messenger style.

There you have it. That was harder than I thought. Right now I only have tickets for one show in 2010, the xx in April. April. That has got to change. Who is on my wish list for 2010 (that I think will tour): Dead Weather, Imogen Heap, Mary J Blige, Boxer Rebellion, Interpol and Incubus.

Tomorrow; the top 5 cds. And once again, I know #1 (and you should too avid readers), but right now #2-#5 is a free for all.

And don't forget; go see Avatar. Now.

Crying in the shower

2009-12-20T23:36:00.006-05:00

I highly recommend it. I did it today. There's something about the tears springing from your eyes and the water running down your face that makes it so bare, so raw. So pure. So cleansed.

And it kills me that I didn't see this one coming. At all. As usual. Dear Santa, please get me a crumble apart detector for Christmas (or I'll take a crumb cake too since I will be officially starving in a little less than two weeks.)

Other than exhaustion and the usual holiday stress (yes, I still have shopping to do) things have been going so well. Like I said before in the last post; my Christmas gifts have been spending time with those that I am so grateful for in my life. The husband and I up until this weekend, have gone out every weekend together. Every weekend. The kids and I have been busy getting the house ready, shopping, attending their holiday concerts and baking. I think I might have found the most unexpected shopping partner who can actually talk me out of buying things. Just this week I saw Lori McKenna for the 4th time and no she didn't play Beautiful Man but she sang this new song about sleeping on the left side of the bed and I was screaming inside, Lori, I sleep on the left side of the bed. What makes her so so good is that she writes about the most simple things and makes them punch you in the gut. I saw The Slutcracker and yeah, it pretty much lived up to its name. I usually have the holiday music going, have been really pleased about the work we've been doing in the house, so excited to see my sister and spend time with my friends and family over Christmas, finding the perfect gifts for people, watching Christmas specials with the kids every night on t.v. Generally, in a very positive and warm mood. I mean, I even let someone hug me today.

And then it hits. As it always does.

I had just finished working out and was going to get in the shower when Oh Come All Ye Faithful by Amy Grant came on my iPod. I looked up in the mirror and caught a glimpse of myself and all of a sudden it felt like someone had punched me in the stomach. Deep breaths, deep breaths. Then I could feel the lump in my throat. No, no, no. Why, why does it always come back to this? And that was a stupid question. Could it be because your mom was murdered and never got the chance to see your kids past the age of three. Yeah, that would be it. I have tried so, so hard not to make 9/11 a huge deal in my life, blame poor choices on it or use it in other ways. But let's face it, it was and is a huge deal. Time may heal the wound but it can be ripped open at any time. Mine ripped today. I would give anything in the world to open the door on Christmas Eve and see my mom there with dishes in her hands, yelling at my dad to get more stuff out of the car and giving the kids one of her famous hugs. And as usual, I keep these rippings (ooh, new Stephwork; like it) of the wound to myself. OMG, that reminds me of a great Lori McKenna lyric in Josephine where she says, "My kids have seen me cry." Mine have. But I knew if I walked out of the shower in my black robe and electric blue m&m slippers that Vic would have tried to make it better and ask what he could do and you know what, that's the point, no one can do anything. I really needed it to be just about me and my sorrow. So I hopped in the shower and lost myself in my beautiful Italian shower faucet and it was exactly what I needed.

As joyous as this time of the year is for me, it can also have dark moments of pain and sadness. It's all about extremes, you are really happy therefor you must have really bad moments. I recovered and I think am in a better place after my crying in the shower. I don't think I'm alone in this. The holidays can be hard. Really hard. Open your door, open your heart and if you absolutely have to, give someone a hug that you think might be having a hard time. It's the little things that we as friends and family remember.

This is one of my favorite Christmas songs. It makes me think of comfort, warmth and love, just pure and joyous love.

The Simple Gift

2009-12-15T22:05:00.005-05:00

I have spent the last two nights shopping on line. I, the shopper, actually hate to shop for the Holidays. It's forced. There are these expectations to deliver big. Blah humbug.

But I must so I did. Of course I got the what do you want question. I NEED a new iPod so that was a no brainer.

After that? A blank. Eventually of course I came up with a ton of cds but that's all I asked for. I remember the days when my list to Santa was a book and I had trouble deciding what NOT to put on. I will be appreciative of any gift that I get. Remember with me, it's the thought put into it, not the actual item itself. I'm pretty sure the husband is getting me jewelry which is so unlike him but I got a text a week ago telling me he needed my ring size by the end of the day. I think he's terrified of screwing up again like on my birthday and having to get me a second chihuahua.

I mean who wouldn't want another one? It terrifies me, terrifies me how much I love this dog. And how she is my canine twin.

Then I really thought about it. My "gift" has been happening all month and it ain't over yet (from now until January 4th, day 1 of ScarySpeed, I am referring to as "Steph's Farewell Tour" where I will enjoy life to it's fullest before my 28 days of caloric deprivation and hellish interval training begins. ) I have loved nothing more than to spend time with all of my friends and do things with my family. Relaxing dinners, concerts, holiday parties, impromptu outings to the bar, late night conversations full of laughter, questions and thought. These are the best gifts to me. Really. The past month has been crazy but it's the kind of crazy that is settling. The kind of crazy that makes you appreciate just how lucky you are. And on tap this weekend; seeing the illustrious Ms. Lori McKenna (folks, she sings my song you'll hear the scream from Cambridge) and what I'm hoping will be a new holiday tradition; a trip to see The Slutcracker. And who better to go with? My Fruity Patooty. Seriously, she is finding new layers and dimensions of the wonderful things we have in common. And then on Sunday a holiday dinner with my cat club. Meow.

I ran (and I use that term loosely) my first race this past weekend since the marathon (um, I just bought my first pair of running shoes since the marathon a week ago) and had the absolute best time. The theme was Jingle Bell and we took it to heart. And ears. I laughed so hard. So hard. And these crazy people I'll be stuck in a van with for 24 hours in May when we run with 7 others in a 24 hour relay. Our name is Team 12 Pack. And you bet we'll be bringing a 12 pack.

So of course because I'm in this great mood, I have been listening to the most folky and depressing music. Of course. And by deceased artists no less. This one suicidal. This one a monumental loss. Angeles is the song by Elliott Smith. I have asked for more of his stuff for Christmas. There's something about his voice; like it's caught between happy and sad yet not bittersweet. I kind of love that feeling; that point where you could cry or laugh and one small thing makes a decision for you. Is it yourself or someone? I don't know but I love this song.

January 4, 2010

2009-12-09T20:42:00.007-05:00

January 4, 2010. The beginning of 28 days of pure hell.

By my own choice.

Yes, you heard it here first. I have willingly decided to do what those around me have done with great success. Something I swore I would never, ever put myself through.

Unless of course you're going to Jamaica in February and need to wear a bathing suit.

January 4, 2010 is day one of what I will call ScarySpeed (otherwise known as Warpspeed aka BSP style.) Warpspeed? Just what is Warpspeed?

Pure hell. Pure training and calorie deficit hell.

Which delivers results.

Many at CP have done Warpspeed, some a few times. I saw what they went through and what they had to eat and wanted to cry for them. Now true, Scary put me through a similar version this past July and yes though I wanted to eat my coffee table and there were times that I wanted to puke during training, I did get results. Now it's time to go hardcore, do it 110%. I'm basically going to be following it but Scary is going to put in some meal modifications and he's going to have to put in many training modifications due to my back (which by the way is so, so much better but was told to stay away from certain movements. Forever.) Pretty much every single morsel of food I put in my mouth will be prescribed for me. Same with the training. Everyone I've talked to has said the same thing, you get used to the nutrition but what sucks is doing the training when you um, may feel a little hungry? I trained today and asked Scary just what my calorie intake will probably be.

1,300.

OMG, what have I done? Now I know I've done a similar calorie count before but NEVER with the intensity of training that I'll be doing. I have NOTHING going on in January. Not even one concert. If there was ever a time to do it, this would be it. I have given myself one cheat day; Drew's birthday. Damn, I was on bedrest with that kid for 6 weeks, had a 14 hour labor with him and gained almost 50 pounds with him. You bet I'm having a piece of birthday cake. So we were talking about it today and this is probably the quote of the year with him (almost, almost as good as, "Wow is that muscle definition I see in your quads Steph?)

"You know this means no alcohol. For a month."

Oh, Mother Mary of Corona, please get me through this. Yes, I know. I totally know.

So he who is not my boyfriend looks at me with doubt about the whole alcohol thing. Just for that I put a wager on it. And it's a good one.

You see today I was told some news (delivered by he who is not my boyfriend doing his best Dr. Phil imitation) that was quite unexpected, sweet and quite flattering. But some important information was left out. And the bromance over at CP refuses to give it up. So I looked at him and said, "I do this, you give up the info I need. I screw up, I buy you two pounds of beef jerky." How easily sold he was.

So now I have extra ammunition to get this thing done and get it done right. Look for almost daily entries in January about how ScarySpeed is going. I am looking quite forward to the challenge. Especially if it means getting the info I need. And I will find out.

Kind of sad but my iPod is full. So I had to clear and reset it with those songs I really love (asked for a new one for Christmas.) While I was going through my library, I stumbled upon this song.

"It's just a little crush.............."

32 Flavors

2009-12-06T20:29:00.019-05:00

This one is either going to come together beautifully or be one of the most disjointed things I've ever written. I wasn't even going to write tonight but I had to, I just had to.

I don't like this venue to be a recap of what I've done. Boring. Tired. Too easy. I realize I do write about the events in my life but I try really hard for myself to put everything together, make sense out of things. At looking back at the last 4 days of my life, a theme started to appear. And of course reminded me of a song that for the past 2 weeks I've been listening every day on the way to work.

The past 4 days of my life have included being the only girl and training next to 12 pro ball players, being on the edge of the mosh pit at Brand New, hosting playdates for the kids and making cookies, helping Amelia on her colonists project due on Tuesday, enjoy friendship with some of the most spectacular people I know and some serious food and wine (oh and yeah, beer), playing touch football with a bunch of 5 year olds, dressing up and doing the Holiday party thing, taking the dogs to see Santa and de-cluttering the casa with the husband. An obstacle that I have come against multiple times in my life is this "conception" of what a mom/wife/teacher should do. Should not do. Be friends with. Not be friends with. Wear. Not wear. Say. Not say. I want to know who made up the rulebook for what mom/wife/teacher people are expected to do. Live their lives. It's like they made a cookie cutter image of what we are. People, I love cookies, but do NOT cookie cutter me.

One of the things I loved most about my mom was her unconditional giving and her ability to connect with people from all backgrounds. Gender, age, race, socio-economic status, religion, sexual affiliation did not matter. If you had a good heart, she would listen, she would give. People felt safe around her. You knew she was listening. It's the quality I have pretty much devoted my life too, the piece of her I want to carry on. One of my friends once told me a long time ago, "Steph, you're like aloe. So soothing." And I know he meant that in the most un-massage way possible. I think what he was trying to say is that I genuinely care about my friends and family and my friendship was a calming force. I can't help it, I like to take care of people. Do things. I don't think what he understood is that the people I surround myself with are my calming force. My aloe. Oh, I already forgot the whole point of this. Stick with me though. I have a feeling I'm going somewhere that I didn't expect but this may actually be a good thing.

So yeah, I go to more concerts than the normal person. When it was my turn to lead Amelia's Brownie meeting, we listened to Paramore. Yeah I happen to look almost 10 years younger than I am but blame my mom and genetics on that, not me. Yeah I happen to sometimes stick my foot in my mouth, but trust me I learn from those Stuart Weitzman in the mouth moments. Yeah I happen to have lots of incredible friends who are of all races, genders, ages, sexual orientation and religions. I don't see any of that when making friends. I look for ideas, emotions, reactions. Honestly, one of my most favorite people in the world is the 13 year old son of one of my closest friends. This kid is wise beyond his years, is so thoughtful and introspective. I could talk to him for hours. You know that if tomorrow at the grocery store I met an 87 year old woman who loved New Moon that I would invite her for coffee and become fast friends with her. And those of you who actually know me know that I am telling the complete truth. Ooh, it would even be better if it was a MAN. Because, and this one goes out to all the guys I know who admittedly (and these guys are like lift heavy stuff men) went to see New Moon and liked it, men who like New Moon ROCK. Simply rock.

Just because you are a parent, spouse and in my case kindergarten teacher, doesn't mean that you have to follow some Barbie doll prototype of who you are supposed to be. Want to get a tattoo? Get one. Want multiple piercings? Do it. Want to wear a Radiohead tee-shirt that says, I know what you're dirty mind is thinking? Wear it. Want to have friends with kids, no kids, married, single, divorced, confused, 10 years older, 10 years younger, female, male, white, black, Jewish, aethiest. The only rule should be to surround yourself with people who you feel a connection with, that make you think, make you feel, but most importantly, that get you. (Okay the husband is lying on the couch next to me watching football and keeps looking at me like what are you typing because I am so into it right now.) I hope the greatest gift I can give my kids is to look for the internal characteristics of a person; the authenticity, the realness. If you can find that, than the rest doesn't matter. I'm pretty sure my two know that not all moms get hit in the head with the drumstick at Paramore or scream out loud in the movie theater at anything New Moon or wear mostly black all the time (quote of the year from my eldest, "No offense Mom, but you're kind of Goth wearing black all the time.) What they do know is that I do these things with 110% of my heart and do it from my heart. As does the husband aka my rock. Trust me, it is not easy being married to me. Expect the unexpected, extremes, but know that it all comes from someplace good. He knows that after 15 years of marriage, life with me is never boring. Especially with my chihuahua. Seriously, that dog is ME. I mean it's like someone upstairs chose her to be mine we are so identical. Except I draw the line at licking my stomach. And this is the view I got today when I was on the treadmill and looked out of the window.

Who knew chihuahuas liked to go sledding?

What brought this semi-tirade on? It's been brewing since last winter when some things were "brought to my attention" and at the time I couldn't really write about it because if I had I really would have stuck my Tory Burches in my mouth. And I'm trying really hard not to do that. But now I feel like I can with little anger but instead security. Conviction.

Oh, I feel so much better now.

The song. 32 Flavors by Ani DiFranco (though Alana Davis does a great cover too.) It's about women being multi-dimensional. Having multiple dimensions to their identities and not being tied to just a couple. About reveling in the freedom of expression of all of their facets. Having "32 flavors and then some."

"And God help you if you are a phoenix

and you dare to rise up from the ash

a thousand eyes will smolder with jealousy

while you are just trying to fly back"

The entire song is one rich poem; she is amazing. Of course she's coming in January and I'm thinking of going to see her. Of course.

The Build Up

2009-12-02T21:32:00.006-05:00

Yes, I'm alive. I'm just tired. And been battling some stomach bug for like a week. And no dear readers, I am SO NOT with child. Been there, done that 2x and that chapter is closed. But maybe another chihuahua?

My life has been crazier than usual lately and quite frankly I shudder when I look at December. But in now way am I complaining at all. I am so lucky to have such great friends and family but most of all am thankful that I found the 98 sitters I am going to need. December to me is not about getting gifts (though I love, love giving them.) The best gift to me is being able to spend time with those that make me laugh, think and lift heavy. And yes, next week is my first week off the "fundamentals" which was so not fun at all, program that I was forced to do until my back settled down. This past weekend was busier than usual too; Thanksgiving, Pixies concert, high school reunion, birthday dinner for he who is not my boyfriend. Lots of build up. You know build up, looking forward to, wondering about. What we do with our mind before something of importance is coming up. The different scenarios that we play in our head (one of the best depictions of this is in 500 Days of Summer when adorable Joseph G-L who listens to The Smiths, wears Joy Division tee shirts with suit jackets; I know, I know he's not real but there right there is the description of the perfect man; is invited to Summer's party after their break up.) And if you've seen the movie, you know how wonderfully horrible that all plays out.

It got me to thinking about build ups. Honestly, sometimes I think that the scenes of lingering conversations, velvety wines, heartfelt smiles and soulful looks that play in our head sometimes beat the real thing. Why? Why do I sometimes do this? Don't get me wrong, it's not like I am always disappointed; quite the opposite. Lately I have been pleasantly surprised by the unexpected things that pop up. Do we tend to set higher expectations than we need to? Are we unrealistic? I don't know. Looking back at this past weekend, I am unsure.

There was the 2nd Annual CP Turkey Lift which I am still in bewilderment that no one actually throws a frozen turkey at the medball wall or anything. Last year was epic and this year was good too but it was a lot more crowded which at first kind of threw me but then once I saw who was there, felt right at home. I mean who couldn't have fun at 8:oo in the morning with these two training right next to you?

Scary thing is, these two have great taste in music and I actually go out and socialize with these guys. One even came over for Thanksgiving (and totally and completely won my family over.)

But they were not as awesome as these three.

Thanksgiving itself was awesome, I mean awesome. This picture just melts my heart, because these 3 are my heart. Plus he who is my husband and half dead dog. Well just kind of half dead dog.

The Pixies concert build up had been quite big and let me tell you it did not disappoint in any way. Frank Black is insane, insane. And I loved the fact that everyone was so into it. Then there was my reunion, honestly I thought it was going to be a blog on its own but, nah. Always surprises me on what I think I'm going to write about and what I actually write about. It was so, so great seeing so many old friends (but so sad that the three women who were my go to girls weren't able to come) and we had a fantastic time but I don't think I have any new insight that you haven't already heard about reunions. All of my friends looked fabulous and so happy. And to my younger readers, if you want to stay looking young, one word: sunscreen. Someone I knew that I was going thought it was my tenth reunion. Thank you, thank you, thank you Dr. Goldaber, King of Dermatologists and proscriber of my sunscreen and creams.

Here's part of thespian crew I hung with. And the guy in the middle was good friends with THE EX. You know the ex that everyone has from high school. I am pretty sure that after my 3rd glass of wine I asked him to please apologize to him for the rather horrible way we broke up. It was like Sid and Nancy lite. I was Sid AND Nancy.

Here's the hubby and I with some friends. The shirt; the one he whined about in the last post. I think it looks rather dashing thank you.

I somehow found the energy to roll myself out of bed the next day to attend a birthday dinner for he who is not my boyfriend. He's holding up the Chewbacca and Princess Leia keychains Drew got for him.

Looking back, not everything played out in reality like it did in my head but I am grateful for that. In some instances I found gifts in the surprises that happened. The build up was on target for the most part.

So you knew this had to be related to music somehow. For the past two days I've been in Brand New Boot Camp as in being immersed in everything that is Brand New because tomorrow night I'm going to see them with BG/TH at Lupos. I love the fact that I know very little. BG/TH gets music on the same level as he who is more musically obsessed than me (and truthfully, he who is more musically obsessed than me is in a league of his own because he can actually play an instrument too.) So I completely trust people who are deep about the music and agreed to go even though quite frankly I had never heard of them (though he who is as musically obsessed with me did assure me I would like them.) Well as usual, he was right. I had two cds made for me and was pleasantly surprised not only did I like the sound, the lyrics, man some of these lyrics are the deepest I've heard in awhile. Like almost to the point of pulling over in the car to think. But as always, there is one song that always stands out. And why? Because the build up to 1:03 in this song is so friggin delicious and then at 1:04 it all breaks loose and you just want to scream. And to BG/TH apologize if I do scream. Maybe I'll bring some tissues to stuff in my mouth so I won't.

So if you have something coming up that you've written 10 different scenarios in your head for, step back, take a deep breath and live in the moment instead of the one you imagined. Here it is, Sowing Season. Seriously, 1:03 is what Steph's Wonderful World of Music is all about.

The Steph Crushes

2009-11-22T20:01:00.009-05:00

Okay let me just preface this by saying that at the moment Amelia is watching How The Grinch Stole Christmas (looking so cute in her reindeer pajamas and carrying her new pocketbook that I absolutely could not resist buying her. She looked at it and squealed, "Mom, it's just like one of yours. I have to throw in perfume, lip gloss, hand sanitizer and gum." Vic is trying on shirts for all of the holiday parties we have coming up (because he can't show up wearing the same shirt in all the pictures on FB, and let's not even get into the wardrobe orchestration this is going to take for me.) He tries on this KILLER black pin striped Hugo Boss one I got at Nordstroms (like so smart looking) and he goes, "I look like I just walked out of a concentration camp." This from my Jewish husband who no joke texted me to pick him up a pair of jeans and "don't pay over $20 for them." I do not lie people.

This past week I have had the utmost luxury of being able to indulge in all of my crushes. Oh how crushes are so fun. I have decided to categorize them.

1. The Top 5 Crush-John Cusak. Johhny boy has always been in my top 5; usually he or Zach Braff hovers at #1. It all started with Say Anything. Lloyd Doppler. Cusak has that dark, handsome yet goofy but incredibly deep and funny guy thing down to a science. He's written and directed; he's my thinking crush. I took Drew and a friend to see 2012 and it was awesome to see him in action hero mode. Save me John, save ME.

2. The Girl Crush-Lizzie from Land of Talk. I have been taken with this tall and lanky Canadian Indie Rock Goddess since I saw her open for BSS last October. First, there's that voice. Soothing almost sweet yet with traces of melancholy. Then there's the fact that the girl can PLAY and I mean PLAY the guitar. Throw in the short hair and a recipe for a completely unabashed girl crush from me. And if it wasn't for the bodyguard/tissue holder's persistence that I actually wait in line to meet her, I never would have gotten to partially hug her. And we all know how I feel about hugging. There were 3 bands playing and they were second to go on. We got there at the end of the last band's set (after an unexpected salivate in your mouth meal at Hungry Mother; I ate grits and I liked it and I left that place no longer a Hungry Mother.) The place was maybe a 1/3 full. We work our way up to the very front and as roadies are setting up LOT we're talking and I look on the stage and there she is like 2 feet away from me checking her guitars etc. I turn around and with a face that I'm sure screamed OMG I whisper, "OMG that's her. I have a total girl crush." You know I really do not handle up close and personals with crushes very well; I go all stars struck. Did you know when I was 5 I saw Sean Cassidy and started choking on an orange. Smooth should be my middle name. I completely eye stalk her while she's setting up in awe. They come out and I do cartwheels inside when I realize that her microphone is right in front of me. I mean right in front of me. This is too good to be true. First song I'm worried because I can't hear her voice and I need to hear her voice but by the second song I could hear her clearly. Once again she completely blew me away. To sing like she does and play like she does is just unreal to me. She asked for requests and BG/TH looked at me like, "This is your shot" and I just shrug like an idiot because she who has all of their cds cannot think of one of the song titles. Not one. After the show I get a new shirt because my old LOT one is one of my most treasured possessions and BH/TH picks up a cd and says, "Do you have this?" I look at him like I have it all and then look down and you idiot Steph you do not have the prized possession in his hand. Live. Acoustic. In Paris. How did I miss this and he did not?

Oh what's that you ask? Does that say Stephanie on it (and I know I always talk about my crazy pajamas and here are my hot pink space monkey ones.) After I made my purchases I was ready to go but BG/TH insisted I stay and meet her and try to get a picture. Okay I totally wanted to but was terrified of going blank in front of her. Or saying something really stupid. Finally it was my turn and I say, "I am kind of obsessed with your band but don't worry I'm not going to stalk you or anything." Way to go Steph. Here I am with my new BFF.

Note to all; someone please get me an E.T. shirt for Christmas. Small or medium.

The cd; too good to describe. Acoustic Some are Lakes pretty much made my year.

3. The Cougar in Training Crush. First to be an official cougar, you have to be 40 or over so I'm a cougar in training for another 2 years. But honestly I think it should be more about the age gap. I mean Demi Moore who is way over 40 and like over a decade older than Ashton has said many times she hates being called a Cougar. I totally agree Demi. I think the age gap should be at least 20 years. Which then officially characterizes this as a Cougar in Training Crush.

I saw New Moon today. I can say without a doubt it was one of the best movies I've seen this year and one of the best book adaptations of a movie. Okay, first, Kristen Stewart is going to become a girl crush. She rocked in this movie. Gone was the whiny, wimpy Bella. This one had balls. And the music? I've had the soundtrack for awhile and was so impressed with how the integrated the music. It really made the movie. But the real revelation here was a young 17 year old boy who I'm pretty sure had every female in that movie theater (including my mini-me and her friend) wishing, wishing she had a Jacob in her life.

People, Taylor Lautner's arms, abs and chest should get an Academy Award for best performance by a body. Seriously, he was so good. So good. (And to the testosterone friend who texted me as I'm entering the movie theater asking the question, "Why was he shirtless for 97% of the movie?" The real question here is why not?) When he comes out after his werewolf transformation and it's pouring rain and his black hair is all short and spiky and wet and his shirtless self looks at Bella I seriously wanted to scream; maybe I did. He's her protector. He's her best friend. And then if life could not get any better, enter his pack. No not his six pack, though that was equally as beautiful, his bromance wolves.

I never wanted the movie to leave La Push. Stay on the rez. Damn, I know I have Native American ancestry; I was ready to go home and research and see if I could trace my roots to a certain tribe so I could re-connect with some of my people and really, really hoping these 4 guys were related to me. As distant cousins of course. At the end I made up a new team; Team Edcob. Who says you can't be on both teams?

Everyone needs a crush. And some of us need 3.

"I'm sensing a romantic moment coming on....."

2009-11-15T22:09:00.006-05:00

How many times have I written about he who is not my boyfriend here? I can't even count. And what do I write about mostly? How we make fun of each other. I mean just this week he was in a bad mood and I called him on it and he was like, "What, you want me to do a cartwheel every time I see you?" (which completely cracked up Scary because I was like, "Yeah.") Editorial note; the next time I came in he did do a cartwheel, a one handed one. And in the office for everyone to see. Thanks hon for that public display of gymnastics expression and p.s. you need to work on your form. Stick that butt out a little.

So what does my boy who pretty much now is as tall as me do this weekend? He decides that Tony is the next best thing since Yu-Gi-Oh cards. Betrayal has never hurt so much.

We all had tickets to go see Star Wars in concert and decided to meet up at Boston Beer Works before the show (and how awesome is his girlfriend? She drank Pumpkin Ale AND was rocking the Princess Leia cinnamon bun hair.) We have a 30 minute wait (not fun with a man child who is starving and decides that he's going to take matters into his own hands and check in with the hostess every 10 minutes.) So we're talking and Drew is like, "Um, mom who's the girl with the Princess Leia hair with Tony?" I say, "That's his girlfriend Lisa."

Then I got the look that changed everything. Look at it from an almost 11 year old Sci-Fi fanatic's point of view.

1. Tony likes Transformers.

2. Tony has some serious guns with arms that rival Popeye's.

3. Tony still watches He-Man.

4. Tony still sleeps with his Chewbaccca teddy bear.

5. Tony went with us to see Harry Potter. And screamed like a little girl at the scary part.

And now, to top it off, Tony has a girlfriend. That went to Star Wars in Concert. With a smile. And Princess Leia hair.

Tony is now known as He-Tony. Yeah, that's what my firstborn named him. "Tony, you are like He-Tony. You have the power of Cressey Performance behind you." (Seriously almost spit up my Pumpkin Ale when that one came out of his mouth.)

So being the young lovebirds that they are, they are cutely affectionate. My boy zeros in on this immediately. "I sense a romantic moment coming on between He-Tony and Princess Lisa. I think that when they show clips of Anakin and Padme, you should kiss her." The husband looks at me and orders another beer at that point. And to think that He-Tony and Princess Lisa thought they were going to have a nice quiet dinner and not have a tween comment on their relationship. Truth be told, my boy has great instincts. Wonder where he gets that from.

We didn't sit with them but when the Padme and Anakin clip came on I start getting all teary eyed and the boy is ready to vomit from the sappiness but then he leans over to me and says, "Text He-Tony and make sure he gives Princess Lisa a smooch during this romantic moment." Who does he think he is sticking his nose in other people's business? OMG, he is my son.

Princess Lisa has set a very high standard for my son's future love interests. His prom date better be ready to rock the buns.

And seriously, I think Amelia is almost as tall as me. I do look like Head Ewok in this picture.

So once again I am going to see an opening act this week. Land of Talk. I saw them last October open for Broken Social Scene and they are my go to band. When I'm unsure of what to listen to, I usually find myself listening to them. My go to song, a song I have never and will never get sick of is Some Are Lakes. Note to self and the bodyguard; perhaps standing right next to the speaker for this one is not in the best interests of the ears. I must save some hearing for The Pixies, OMG I'm going to see The Pixies.

Jessica Lea Mayfield drinks Miller Lite

2009-11-10T21:53:00.009-05:00

Yeah, you heard it here first.

The Queen of Darkness, the Duchess of Despair, The Angel of Hearbreak. My Jessica Lea who at the tender age of 19 writes the most deliciously depressing lyrics. My Jessica whose lyrics cut me open like a wound, the one who takes my psyche to deep, dark and introspective places, yes that Jessica Lea drinks beer. And not just any beer. Miller Lite. Out of a can.

Can you not see the expression on my face upon discovery of this revelation? In addition to being a self proclaimed food snob, I am a self proclaimed beer snob (and thought the hubby was too until he ordered beer-in a can (and drank it out of the can)-before downing two bottles of a velvety Brunello mind you-on a recent night out.) Apparently it worked out.

Why did this throw me you ask? I'm still not sure. I guess I just thought that for someone who was so tormented that she would drink something else. But hey, what do I know.

Honestly, the concert didn't go as I had planned and once again I have learned that the unexpected is a gift. Jessica has one EP and one LP out. Not a huge musical catalog. The two songs that haunt me, that I sing 24 hours a day in the fake red highlight head are The One That I Love Best and You've Won Me Over. I was thinking, she's got to sing at least one of them. Of course she didn't. I am seriously starting to get a complex from folky/country singers not singing the songs that split me open. I mean how many times have I seen Lori McKenna and she has not sang Beautiful Man?

But something happened. First, back up. We were right in front of the stage, complete with a speaker to lean on (the bodyguard/tissue holder gets an A+ for that one) so we could not have physically been closer. Cheap red wine in a plastic cup ready to go. She was the first of two opening acts so the place was half empty (stupid mistake concert goers-oh yeah, I am the one that missed Paramore as an opening act-duh) so it was quite the intimate setting. She came out and the second she sang that first word, that low, haunting almost unaffected voice that sings of emotions so painful came out and added a dimension that is lost on recordings. It was as if you were almost drinking her words. Beautiful. She sang two new ones, and as she said, "My songs are all about boys" and what's so interesting about her is that she gave a little peek into her songwriting process. She said, "These are all about one night." Notice not one guy. One night. She's diving into her conflicted and I'm guessing changing emotions of one night and writing about them. This is why she rocks; she is not scared to explore the ever changing emotion and fragility of love/lust and disappointment.

Half way through her set I just kind of knew that she wasn't going to sing my songs so decided to let it go and what do you know, a song that I have heard countless times and loved came on-Kiss Me Again (of course could I remember the title immediately after the concert when trying to explain to the tissue holder-no-maybe I should lay off the highlights? Nah) and I experienced that song in a whole new way. It's a sad one but when I saw her sing it live, it wasn't just sad, there was beauty in the sadness. I mean when she sang, "I guess my life is just falling apart" it was like she was kind of okay with that because she knew it had to happen. And do you want to know what's kind of creepy? When did I discover Jessica? Last spring when my little crooked spine life was falling apart. Not a coincidence. I realized that standing there; Blasphemy so Heartfelt was the soundtrack to my Mexican ass falling off that wall.

So back to the beer. She drank out of Miller Lite can when performing. Jess sweetie, maybe this is why you are so sad? We decided to stay up close for the rest of the show; why not? Justin Townes Earle followed and was quite entertaining in a Buddy Holly kind of way. Imagine a guy from Tennessee singing about his mama and fried chicken. It really worked and the crowd loved him. Knowing my bladder like I do, I decided to do the bathroom/beer run before Dan Auerbach came out. I'm at the bar still thinking about her set and I see the Miller Lite bottle and decide to go for it. If it's good enough for Jessica, it's good enough for me. After almost punching some chick out who wasn't going to let me through to the front (didn't believe that I really was up there; seriously, I was going to do something to her-the bodyguard told me later I should have told her about my training-good idea, I could have bulgarian single leg squatted her right there) I finally make my way up unsure about the reaction to my purchase. Jessica must be on to something because the review was, "Strangely, Miller Lite washes the cheap red wine down nicely." Couldn't have said it better myself.

Even as I write, I think my ears are still ringing. Understand we were right next to the speaker. We could read the setlist we were that close. Dan and his band came out and gave the green tea performance of the year. Two drum sets, an organist, two guitarists and a bass. And maracas, there were maracas everywhere (I swear at least three of them were Mexican.) The energy, the loudness (all I could pretty much hear was the guitar; Dan's voice was kind of drowned out) and the variety in his sound all came together. I have given this cd to three people now and they all said the same thing; awesome. You listen to one song, the next one comes on and you're like, is this the same guy? It's like that for the entire cd. Called Keep it Hid (and you can bet it will be on my Top 5 Steph cd review of 2009). I mean just look at them.

Today was kind of rough on only 4 1/2 hours of sleep but nothing like a triple espresso to get you going. I trained tonight and walk in and apparently I forgot to take my drinking bracelet off-oopsies-and its bright pink. Scary looks at me and says, "Where did you go Funtown Steph?" Yeah Bri, my life IS Funtown. I told him and I get the "How many concerts do you go to? Once a week?"

I start to say no but then realize that for the next five weeks, I am going to a concert once a week. Yes!! Jessica and Dan this week, Land of Talk next week, The Pixies after that, Brand New/Manchester Orchestra the following and then Arctic Monkeys after that. Christmas came early this year for Steph!

Everyone thinks I'm crazy because I do love to go to shows. No. Everyone has their thing. Some people like to shop (oh, I do that.) Some people like to go to cool restaurants (oh, guilty of that), some people have season tickets to sporting events (damn, okay but so far am only scheduled to go to a few games.) The point is seeing live music takes me to a place where I can think. Where I can feel. I don't know how to explain it, it organizes me somehow. Where I get the recharge. And now where I can drink Miller Lite and be totally okay with it. So I lied; my next concert is not Land of Talk, it's Star Wars in Concert this weekend.

May the force be with me. I leave with For Today by Jessica. Yes, I was that close. "I was walking with your left hand in my back pocket and I stared at the sky while you kissed me."

And then she had a Miller Lite................

Strength vs. Endurance

2009-11-07T13:54:00.012-05:00

Okay this one is going to take a few sessions. At the moment I am sitting underneath a hairdryer at the salon with a ton of foil in my hair hoping to go even redder. I'm not quite ready to go back to my fake cousine of Eva Longoria Parker blonde self yet but my last color was a little too Debbie Downer for me. I mean I'm deep and all but there are some definite Swiss chesse holes in this cabeza of mine. I'm hoping fake red will be a nice combination of deep/intellectual hot librarian with with a little Lucy Ricardo thrown in.

So this one has been coming for awhile; notice how I really haven't been talking about my "training" or "marathon plans." I'm going to pre-empt this right now and say that I'm probably going to get some things wrong that will make the coaching friends I have choke on their protein powder or drop a 50 pound weight on their foot or something (and by the way if someone EVER dropped a 50 pound weight on their foot in front of me you can bet your Metabolic Drive that I would not say, "I can't believe you did that. You really are a klutz." Cough, cough guy who just got married.)

I try to make connections, connect the dots in my life when I can. If I don't I feel like I am somehow cheating myself out of a learning experience. So I'm going to try to make sense of the developments of the past few weeks and how this is going to shape my future.

My marathon career is over. In fact anything over a half marathon is pretty much over. In fact honestly, I was told anything over a 10k was not a good idea. You see after living on this earth for 29 years (swear to the Flat Iron Goddess when I was checking out at the salon today and was scheduling my next appointment and told her 6 weeks she said, "Oh honey wait until you hit 30, you'll be in every 4 weeks for a touch up color." So right now, I'm 29 according to Beth Hair Salon receptionist extradionaire) I was just informed that I have mild scoliosis. This explains EVERYTHING. I mean everything. My injuries, my left side versus right size discrepancy, my balancing issues, my major stabilization issues, pelvic and hip issues and yes, back issues. You see a few years ago I was diagnosed with a disc issue in my lower left back. Dealt with it. This summer I did something (I still don't know what) to my right back. It bugged me all summer and was not getting better so I finally went to the doctor. Then as only I would I really did something to it while deadlifting. Last set, last rep; had CP staff right there coaching me, I have lifted heavier that what I was doing. It was just one of those things. The instant I started coming down, I felt it. Doctor said not a disc issue and ordered PT, core work (oh yeah because you know I never have that in my program) and to really re-think the long distance running. Yeah, heard this song before.

The last few weeks have been hell. I'm on the stay straight training program, which basically means no bending and one leg work and a ton of upper body. And cardio-walking on the treadmill. Yeah, I've been fun to live with and coach. Whine, wine and more wine. I was very resistant to PT and wanted to talk to my sports thearpy/chiropractor/deep tissue doc. He is someone that I actually listen to and am always amazed by his knowledge. I brought him my xrays and he looks at them and says, "You know you have mild scoliosis right? See that curve in your spine?"

No, in my 29 but not really 29 years of living no one has ever told me that.

But it all makes sense. And Dr. Morgan explained it to me so well, and mind you he's been digging his elbow into my hip, massaging my left glute (and I mean that in the most unsexy way ever) for 2 years now. He knows how I work. And it was creepycool how he sat there and with my body showed me how the scoliosis affected my movement patterns, the way I run, my internal/external rotation. And how running another marathon would pretty much be more stupid than dropping a 50 lb weight on your foot. He has ALWAYS told me (and mind he is a BM finisher himself) that endurance running for ME is not the most optimal sport. My body was just not designed for it. But that's where I would agree but then say but I work with some of the best strength coaches in the country who design programs to work on my issues and that I run the least mileage that I can. But after seeing my xrays with the nice curve and seeing with my own two eyes how training for another marathon was going to affect my right now slightly beat up body (but strangely enough, my jeans are looser) I got it. I got what 3 big dudes in Hudson, MA have been trying to tell me for years.

Why, why did it take an xray of my slightly crooked spine to make me get it? Why had I been hanging on to the marathon for so long? And then today when on the stepmill (an approved machine) I got why and I also got a glimpse into my future.

The marathon for me was all about endurance; getting through 26.2 hellish miles. I had made it through September 11, 2001 when my mom and almost 3,000 others hadn't. I had made it through 6 years of living without her when I ran my first marathon. I had made it through learning of the discovery of her remains. I had made it through holding the items they found of hers from the WTC site and holding her credit cards (seriously, they found her credit cards-a sign to continue the Cora shopping legacy.) I had made it through my entire life being shunned by my biological father. Yeah, great guy he is. I had made it through hitting rock bottom in so many things of my life and then finding the will and desire to fight back. It's all about falling off that wall and picking up the pieces and putting them together again. Endurance. Keep on going. Prove that you can. I have proved on so many levels that I have endurance.

But endurance is very different from strength. And strength is not my strongpoint on so many levels (okay totally and completely did not mean to write that horrid analogy but we'll keep it.) Don't get me wrong, I got muscle. Just the other day the husband was like "Nice guns there." But all my endurance stuff kind of kept me from making the strides I could with the strength. And in my personal life? Um, let us remember the daily meltdowns this past spring. Don't get me wrong, I'm strong. But not as strong or and endurally (pretty sure I just made up this word right here) strong as I would like to be. I get that we are all human and have our vulnerabilities but I'd like to get more sets and rep of the curveballs life throws me before crumbling apart. Make sense?

So in looking to the future, I'm concentrating on strength now. For the immediate future it's all about the upper body. He who is not my boyfriend is always like, "We're going to get your bench press over 100lbs." Okay, guess now is the time to go for it. The unassisted band Scary/He Who is not my boyfriend pullups would be a good goal too. I'm pretty sure my deadlifting career has ended (no loading the spine) but am confident that He who laughed when I dropped the 50lb plate on my foot (and truth be told I laughed too and the reason I dropped it-had just gotten a manicure and didn't want to mess it up) is going to come up with some things that will be having me yell "I hate you!" in the gym. I guess this means that I will in some ways be working on being emotionally and intellectually stronger too. Think about it; I would love to when given a doozy to instead fall apart, have the strength to stand on those two legs (which after all the single leg work I 've been doing should be damn strong thank you.)

Of course it's Sunday night now and I have a whole lot of bills to pay and laundry to do. Right now I am mentally preparing myself for the musical pool of tears awaiting me tomorrow night. Finally, finally I will get to see The Queen of Darkness, Ms. Jessica Lea Mayfield. She's opening for Dan Auerbach. I am going to see an OPENING act. Me, who missed Paramore the first time when they opened for No Doubt. In fact when I see Land of Talk in two weeks, they are opening for another band. Now that is musical obsession dedication right right there. The thing is, I checked out Dan and liked what I heard so ordered the cd. Um, can we say blown away. Here's a little snippit of what I will be doing in about 24 hours from now. (And don't you think I would make the cutest crooked spine Mexican girl maraca player with fake red highlights in the background?)

Deliciously Depressing

2009-11-01T19:53:00.014-05:00

Today was one of those beautiful New England Sundays when the sun was beaming, the leaves scattered the streets like a well thought out mosaic yet there was just enough of a chill in the air to remind us of the winter to come. I decided to take a much needed deep thinking hour long walk. So I set off looking forward to some alone time with my mind and still in a great mood after our Halloween celebration last night with friends (and you heard it here first, I will be writing a blog about someone who believe it or not is ten times funnier than me and is one of the only people I will allow to call me at 6:00 a.m. in the morning with piss in your pants funnyisms. Meet Grranimal.)

I put the iPod on shuffle and am hoping for some upbeat Ryan M, maybe some Feist, you know upbeat but mellow it's Sunday morning walk music. First up; The Dresden Dolls. Real uplifting. Next; Lori McKenna. Queen of heartbreak. Followed by Natalie Merchant (could anything be more depressing than In Your Skin?) Then to really put the stake in the heart these lyrics pour into my headphones:

Come get me drunk

Tell me I'm pretty

Tell me you want me by your side

Make me fall apart

Try as hard as you can

To let the pieces fall in your hand

And I'll kiss you tonight

And you tell me that I look sad

No, no not Jessica Lea Mayfield. Not Jessica she who writes such raw lyrics full of love lost and wasted (and has like the best short hair ever.)

Okay, quick diversion here because would it really be a Stephentry if I didn't go off topic? I knew Jessica was coming to Boston a few months ago and was ready to drown myself in Pinot because I couldn't go. Me, the girl who has written about her many times, in fact I am pretty sure I wrote something to the effect of, "she could be one of the most influential songwriters of our time." Okay, I take her quite seriously and I was going to miss her? What could possibly make me miss her?

The scream heard around my block: MISS MILEY. No, no, no. You see I had bought tickets to take my mini me to see her earlier this summer. And of course they are the same night. I know how much mini-me wanted to see her and I knew that this was just going to be one of those things that I must do as a mom. I love my girl and didn't want to disappoint (this is the girl who once spent all weekend trying to learn Misery Business on Guitar Hero.) Love, love my girl.

So I had conveniently pushed it out of my head until he who is now known as The Tissueholder asked if I was going. I sadly told him I wasn't and explained. But after my explanation I really got to thinking. I've been thinking a lot lately; my head hurts.

1. I took her to see Miley Cyrus two years ago.

2. I took her to see The Jonas Brothers.

3. I took her to see The Cheetah Girls. In New Hampshire.

4. I took her to see Demi Lovato and that creepycute David Tarantula kid from American Idol who looks like Eddie Munster.

5. HER FATHER HAS TAKEN HER TO NONE OF THE ABOVE.

Still though, I was having this guilt thing and I wasn't sure where it was coming from. Then The Hannah Montana Goddess intervened. Seems that one of her BFFs is also going. With her dad. It's the in thing to do this concert season if you're 8. Have dad take you so you can sucker him into Miley Montana merchandise that mom would wisely say no to. But still, I didn't say a thing. Until, "Maybe I should go with Dad?"

Within 2 minutes I had Jessica Lea Mayfield tickets.

I know, some of you are sitting there shaking your head. Get over it; she's going on a double date with her BFF and the dads. They're doing dinner. Aquaman who is oh so thrilled that he is going (actually when I mentioned maybe he take her so I could go see JLM I got this dirty look but when she asked it was like, "Of course, anything for my girl." And you have to understand he and I are like the least sappy people in the world-wait, let's back up here even more.) When I first played him JLM (because I would walk around the house singing "And you tell me that I look sad") he told me, "She's alright but I think I would fall asleep after the first few songs." Rule 8790 in The Tao of StephySpice; if you in any was dis an artist that Steph is obsessed with on any level then you automatically get taken off the invite list. But it gets better; Jessica is actually opening for Dan Auerbach. I liked what I had heard so ordered the cd and it is easily one of the most unique and stripped down to the raw music cds I have heard in a long time. So Aquaman hears it and goes, "Damn, now this is music. If I had known he was playing with her I would have gone." Sorry Sweetie, but if you insult Ms. And you tell me that I look sad, then you will be sad that you can't go. (Okay, he never reads this blog but I just told him what I wrote and he gave me one of those, you are so snarky-is snarky a word?- but totally cracking me up right now looks.) Have fun at Miley sweetie buns!

Ohhh, what was I talking about? Oh yeah, the hour of heartbreak, misery and tears on my beautiful morning walk. So You've Won Me Over by JLM comes on and I'm like, you have got to be kidding me. But then I realize something. This music on this glorious Sunday morning is actually just what I needed. I am listening to every word, sigh, utterance of disbelief. The music is acting as some gravitational force pulling all of my thoughts together. It is Deliciously Depressing (but not as delicious as the Take 5 candy bars the kids got-OMG, pretzels in the chocolate?)

I listened to some stuff that I haven't too in a long time and it was like seeing old friends again. Problem is even as I sit here and write, those 8 words are still ringing in my ears like a vicious cycle.

And you tell me that I look sad.

I love the fact that I am getting so much out of Debby Downers like Natalie, Jessica, Imogen and Lori when I am so not sad right now. I'll try to post some of the best I want to drink Draino and die songs this week. YouTube was having some issues tonight. November should be rich with entries:

Jessica Lea Mayfield/Dan Auerbach concert

Land of Talk Concert

Star Wars in Concert-laugh all you want you Padawans

The Pixies-(just screamed and scared Cujo Jr.)

L-S Reunion (just bought our tickets and won't even write what Mr. Positive just said about having to pay $75 per ticket for "rubber chicken and a Coke.")

And of course the most defining moment of this month.

NEW MOON OPENS. Did you hear me? NEW MOON OPENS. Oh Edward and Jacob, only 19 more days until we are one again. Okay, I'm going to stop now before I really write something I am going to regret.

Oh my my, Oh my my it has come to this

2009-10-27T00:40:00.003-04:00

Okay this is the second night in a row that I am wide awake at 12:41 a.m. Why? I've got lots of stuff going on in the Mexican cabeza but honestly, it keeps coming back to this.

This song. According to Senor iPod I have listened to this song......way too many times to admit. If there was ever a song that really defined me musically it would be this one. I can't explain it. I listen to this entire cd at least 2x a day. Each time I listen, I get something else out of it. I'm thinking it has to do with the breakdown of the chorus in the last part of the song. I honestly don't know but had to share this because I go to sleep with An Horse in my head and I wake up wth An Horse in my head. I guess it's better than waking up with a horse. We all know my #1 cd in life is In Rainbows by Radiohead. Rearrange Bed by An Horse is easily, easily #2. And those of you who know my love of Radiohead know that I when I say that, I mean it. Spend the $7.99 people and buy this cd.

So............

2009-10-21T20:27:00.013-04:00

So.......

There have been so many so...........s in my life the past week.

So......

1. Yes, I am still running the marathon.

2. Yes, I have had a pretty turbulent week full of highs and lows.

3. Yes, I went to two concerts in 48 hours and am going to Rodrigo y Gabriela on Friday night. It's about time; that drought in the summer was horrible.

4. Yes, I'm on week two of my new program and I still screamed "I hate you" to Scary about 6 times tonight. And he returned the biggest freakin evil smile ever.

5. Yes, my husband actually listened to me and kept some of the season Celtic tickets. First game we're going to; November 20th. November 20th. Is he serious? Does he not know what is opening that day?

6. And yes, I can say with 100% sincerity that the concert of the year for me was the one I had the least expectations for. I read a lot about "complete proteins" (still really not sure what makes them so complete; I mean is there some container of cottage cheese laying around crying because he's missing part of his soul?) The An Horse/Cage the Elephant/Silversun Pickups show was one of those experiences that punched me in the gut. And people, it was the two opening acts that blew the roof of Lupo's.

Let's back up. First, Paramore rocked. It was like the biggest and happiest sing-a-long in the world. Their lyrics are just so good. "If I'm a bad person you don't like me. Well I guess I'll make my own way. It's a circle, a mean cycle. I can't excite you anymore. Where's your gavel? Your jury? What's my offense this time? You're not a judge but if you're going to judge me. Well sentence me to another life. Don't want to hear your sad songs. I don't want to feel your pain. When you swear it's all my fault, 'cause you know we're not the same. No, we're not the same, oh no we're not the same. Yeah I've got friends who stuck together. We wrote our names in blood. But I guess that you can't accept that change is good. Change is good. Well you treat me just like another stranger. Well it's nice to meet you sir. Now guess I'll go, best be on my way. Ignorance is your new best friend." Mini me and I love singing that one together. Damn Haley, you tell those boys who wanted to screw you over. See me in my concert tee; the name tag says, "Hello my name is IGNORANCE."

Oh, what's that drumstick you ask? Oh that would be the DRUMSTICK THAT ZACH THREW AND RICOCHETED OFF MY HEAD THAT I GOT TO TAKE HOME. Not a big deal it all. So over it.

So..................

I was looking forward to the SSPU concert. I saw them two years ago with Frooty Patooty and loved them. Their latest cd Swoon is one of my top 5 cds of the year. I had maybe heard one song of Cage the Elephant and liked it and had never heard of An Horse. I was bummed because Aquaman backed out about a week before the concert. Our week of seeing the Yeah, Yeah, Yeahs and Dinosaur Junior topped with Scary's wedding and working all weekend in Maine had pretty much wiped him out. No worries though because I was going with completely fun people who have awesome taste in music, cured meats, wine and know so much about hockey (totally got a tutorial on the ride to Providence.) The concert started early; 6:00. I wasn't planning on getting there early but he who will now be known as my Bodyguard suggested we see all three bands and I decided why not? I'm pretty sure (but am too lazy to check) that I wrote how I had discovered An Horse and that their cd Rearrange Beds is the cd of the year for me and I still hold to that. So as we headed down to Providence, I was psyched to see An Horse (because people, that is pretty much all I have been listening to) and of course SSPU. I have the Cage cd and played it a few times and loved what I heard but was so pre-occupied with An Horse that did not think much of it. Big mistake Steph.

After having my Sharpie confiscated by security but not my camera, we grab the obligatory see band in small cool venue beer and get pretty close to the stage. An Horse comes out and does not disappoint. There is just something about their sound that has completely turned my insides upside down. Mellow yet harsh. Poppish yet deep. Shoes Watch is my favorite song and they ended with it and the guitar riff at the end completely got me. So Happy. We go for round #2 and when we return we realize that those who were saving our places let, hmmm, what shall we call him? Waldo Freddy Kruger squeeze his way in front of us. Good job guys.

So I'm standing there still replaying An Horse's set and thinking, Cage will put on a good set before SSPU when OMG, is that Ricky Shroeder comes out on to the stage.

Seriously, I looked at Heidi and said, "The lead singer must be 12 and looks like Ricky Shroeder viva Silver Spoons era.

Then I was run over by this band.

Triple OMG with Cool Whip and a cherry on top this band tore down the place. I mean, tore it down. Their cd sounds more southern alt rock; think KOL with a little Arctic Monkeys. Maybe even some Stones influence. Live? They are 100% in your face, get down and boogy and spill beer all over you punk with some southern twangs. After the first song, I was tired just watching these guys put everything they had into their performance. Every single person was jamming with them. Out of nowhere (well at least to me who was standing behind FreddyWaldoKrueger) comes this rhythm guitarist who is just hot. Their 45 minute set was one of the best that I have ever seen.

So over round #3 I was contemplating, how is SSPU going to top Cage? Well, they were really great and the crowd was so into it but I don't know, maybe it's because I was so floored by Cage but the second opening band stole this show. Except for one thing during the SSPU set. Remember Waldo/Freddy Krueger guy?

Well, after an unfortunate little incident during Sort Of (my favorite song off Swoon of course) he is now known as Burning Hair Dude. Thankfully no one got hurt (and muchas gracias to the bodyguard for pushing potential moshers away and acting as a barricade for petite she can deadlift 215lbs right now-working towards 225-little me. I highly recommend taking a bodyguard to all concert experiences with potential moshing and body surfing.) It was more of a "What just happened" flash of burning light and a rancid smell in the air experience. That I of course busted up about.

I of course have to pee so duck out to the ladies room for the last SSPU song. I decide to buy an An Horse tee shirt so go over to the table. I look up to the guy helping me and Triple Whipped Cream with Jimmies on top it's the drummer. And next to him is the singer and guitarist. All I remember saying is something to the effect of, "I love you, I love your cd, I love you, I love your cd." I handle stardom so well. Here are my new BFFs and I.

So I'm trying to find my concert companions after the show ('cause I am friggin starving) and Heidi comes up and yells to me, "I JUST MET MATT FROM CAGE AND GOT A HUG!" "SHUUUT UP!" I screamed back. She grabbed me and took me to meet him. I'm standing in line and Bodyguard says, "Check out the Cougar in the eighties clothing." For a split second I'm thinking maybe it really is Ricky Schoeder and he brought along the nice mom from Growing Pains with the bad perm. I glance over to see the most delicious feathered hair, high waist acid wash jeans with purple flannel blouse with shoulder pads woman. Love at first sight. We may have different styles but I loved her for being 100% her. Until she wouldn't let go of my new BFF, Matt the Cage the Elephant singer.

He took a picture with her, gave her the hug and then was ready for the next person. She kept hugging him again and again and harder and harder. Listen lady, go to the back of the line and let me hug him. She was squeezing him like a bottle of mustard. I feared for his skinny little life. Finally, my turn. I blubber something like, "I go to a lot of shows, this was the best, please come to Boston." So he hugs me once. I blubber some more and say something so profound that I forgot but that prompted him to say, "Oh man, I just have to hug you again." Go for it Ricky.

We finally leave and I look at my spectacular concert companions and go, "Boston for dinner anyone?" I mean seriously Steph it's like 10:00 and you are in Rhode Island and you want to go to Boston for dinner? Of course. And of course being the awesome people that they are all go, "Let's go!"

After a very nice accidental tour of Providence we end up on Newbury Street at Sonsie where we had a great conversation about wine over duck, lamb and pizza. Yes, I started my night in a bar in Rhode Island drinking beer in the midst of moshing to alternative southern punk and ended up at one of Boston's hot spots drinking wine over gourmet cuisine. And that dear readers is the key to being me. It doesn't matter where you are; what matters is what you want to get out of the experience, the people you surround yourself with and of course the mind you bring to it.

My new BFF Matt the singer from Cage the Elephant (find it kind of funny that he shares the same moniker as the bodyguard) told me first hand that they are trying to come to Boston before the end of the year. I AM SO THERE.

Here is just a glimpse of what I experienced on Saturday. Seriously people, does he not look like Ricky Shroeder?

OMG, You're a Handful

2009-10-14T21:41:00.006-04:00

Alright, I'm just going to say it. I'm running the 2010 Boston Marathon.

Get over it.

I'm not a liar. When I said I wasn't going to run it again, I meant it. When I got the email from BMC asking me to join the team, I hit delete and didn't think twice. I've written here about my aversion to long distance running. Just a mere 5 hours ago I was telling one of the CP interns how marathon running destroys you. In the car yesterday I told the kids, "I don't have to train in the winter anymore!" Aquaman and I were actually looking at vacationing in April instead of February that's how serious I was about not running it.

And as I know only too well, everything can change in a second.

SistahSled changed her profile pic on FB (I know, my life changed because of a FB post, get over it, read on.) It was of her at mile 25 hugging the young boy she ran for as part of the Dana Farber team. It just struck me in the heart. That's what its all about. Doing something for somebody else. Digging dip. Monday I sent some sappy text to Fruity Patooty wishing her luck on a race and wrote something about running with your heart. Today I wore one of my BM training shirts and started getting sad. And thinking. What had I done? Being miserable for 18 long runs is part of who I am.

On Monday I started a new program that left me in a puddle of sweat. I mean it was ridiculous. Tonight was no walk in the park either. But here's the thing; I surprised myself at the numbers I got on some of my lifts and circuits. I think, or maybe it was the newlywed euphoria still in effect, that Scary was kind of shocked too. 12 sets of sledge hammers and 11 sets of kettlebell swings in 10 minutes? First week? I have so much room to improve but I have also come a long way. But I started thinking, I'm in better shape now than I was last year. I have time to do some of the longer runs in the afternoons. I know, I know. My body was not built to run. There's nothing I can do about that. But what I can do and am lucky enough to afford, is to surround myself with people to make sure that I am getting stronger, work on inefficiencies, and make sure I'm good to go. Will I shave off time? I think not. Is that important? I think not. Did I finish the last two uninjured? Yes. Am I going to be smart about my training. I'll tell you this; much smarter than the last two.

My friend Jessica who ran the last 10 miles of the last one with me has asked why I never wrote about this past marathon. She saw the ugliness I went through. I still don't know why (maybe I did but I don't think so but you never know; my life has been full of senior moments lately.) But I do know this. The last .2 miles of that race was one of the most painful yet beautiful experiences of my life. Turning on to Boylston I had this out of body experience (and how I wishing I was out of my body.) All of a sudden Open Your Eyes by Snow Patrol (a top 5 Steph song) came on my iPod and I saw all the people in my life that I loved, that brought me laughter, love, friendship, support and hope. And then, then I saw just the three most important people in my life with such clarity and I felt at peace. Then I heard her voice, "You're almost home Steph." For once my mom was wrong, I was at home. It really was such moment that going that it is worth having such clarity, feeling so at peace. That course holds such meaning in my life. I've proved so many things, suffered, learned so much about myself, made life changing decisions. And helped other people. Do you know how lucky I am? I have a home. Heat. I can go to the grocery store and not worry about what I spent. I have health insurance. My biggest problem right now is what new HD tv to get. My children feel safe.

On the way home from CP tonight, I was a mess-literally-what is up with all the sweat? I have nothing to prove this time, nothing to get through. Why can't I run it for the sole purpose of helping others? I knew that my friend Lisa who ran last year for Housing Families was going to run again this year for them. She's on the board so I had decided to email her when I got home to see about being on the team. I open up the MacBook and her FB post (I know, damn FB again) is asking for interested runners to email her. They only have 15 bibs. Freak out in the kitchen; it was a sign. 15 bibs. Only 15 runners to raise money to make sure that families in need have what every human has the right to; shelter. One email, one immediate phone call back and I'm on the team. I told the kids and they were like, "Mom, you promised no more." I explained why and my little girl, my heart said, "That is so cool that you are running to help people have a home." My boy; "Mom, you are crazy but I want to train so I can run 2 miles with you." There was just one more sell. He came home from the gym and I gave him that famous Steph smile that says, "Don't hate me but." I told him. He was shocked but also completely got it. "You never cease to surrprise me. There is always something with you."

So why am I running? Because I can. And strangely enough at 6:48 p.m. today, because I wanted to with all my heart. Housing Families motto is "Transforming Lives." This marathon has in many ways transformed mine. I can't wait to see what I get out of it again. I have learned from she who changed her FB picture and started all of this that you do things because you can. You give. You look forward (keep the eyes on the Pru Steph on April 19th) and find strength. So, am I a liar? I hope not. Did I have a change of heart? More like my heart is ready to open up for 26.2 more miles.

Does that mean I'm a handful? I don't care if it doesn't-I need a good transition. This band, An Horse. Brilliant. Best $7.99 I have ever spent. This cd, Revolving Beds is the cd of the year for me. I will write about them later but this song, this song is like my life story. "OMG, I'm a handful......"

26.2 miles, 18 weeks of training and $3,500 that I am raising so a child can lay her head on a pillow in a warm bed in the comforts of a home, here I come.

You really didn't think I would let you do this without me?

He did not just do a Spiderman walk on the dancefloor..............

2009-10-11T20:05:00.015-04:00

Oh, the pressure.

At least 5 times yesterday, I heard someone say, "Can't wait to see what you blog about this."

And, and someone came up to me at the wedding and said, "Are you Steph? I read your blog. I feel like I know you."

See Tony, you aren't the only one who gets recognized.

So, this blog should really be about Brian (I was told to call him that and not Scary out of respect that he just got married and all but hello, his nickname is a sign of respect. He still scares me. He lets me get away with NOTHING and it's his face I see as I look at the pretzel bag contemplating a salty treat. It's usually saying, "How's that nutrition going Steph?" (Sidenote; I was back on the BSP nutritional plan this past week and am ready to rumble with the new program he wrote for me starting today. And if you're going to go through hight protein and carb deficit, take a partner along for a ride. At moments of weakness in the CVS Halloween candy aisle, you can text for support. You and I are so on Newbury Street jean shopping when this is all over Sistah.) This blog was supposed to be about Brian and his beautiful new bride who is not scary in any shape, mean or form. She is the sweetest thing ever. But in reviewing the pictures, it became quite evident that this was going to be about someone else.

I was quite humbled when I got the invitation and immediately started looking for kid and dog sitters. I am not one to miss a wedding but honestly, was just really hoping I could catch one of the CP coaches shoving cake in their mouth. I really consider my CP friends like extended family and was so happy to be able to share this special day with the crew.

After awakening at the crack of dawn, getting the kids settled and dropping the dogs off we were headed to Maine by 8:30. After unexpectedly running into he who will be discussed at great lengths later in this entry on the road we finally arrive at the hotel with not much time to spare. We are unloading the car when I notice that the bag with the boots that took me 2 weeks to find, my nylons and the new Betsy Johnson bag is missing. Not there. Guess whose job it was to pack the bags in the car? Yeah, thanks a lot Mr. Black Socks.

Thank goodness Wife Spice always is prepared and thew in a pair of back up shoes just in case. If I hadn't I would have been wearing my Uggs and would have had to stop at the gas station to buy a bag of Cheetos and a Red Bull to complete my Britney look. Oh, and a Venti Frapuccino.

As we are approaching the town center I see this monstrous and grandeur Cathedral like church. I kiddingly say, "Wouldn't that be funny if that's where Brian is getting married?" HolyChobaniAlmonds, it WAS the church he was getting married in. My motherly instincts took over and suddenly I felt very nervous for him. I mean this place had Lady Di and Prince Charles could have gotten married in it written all over it.

Like always, Brian was as cool as a cucumber (with string cheese, remember, protein at all meals and snacks) and his bride looked stunning. Even my husband collector of black socks commented on how beautiful her dress was and how the tasteful the bridesmaids dresses were. See?

Oh, if only he looked that happy when telling standing there with the stopwatch telling me to "move it" during a circuit.

As I alluded to earlier, in reviewing the pictures and trying to come up with a theme to weave this lovely day together, it became quite evident that some um, unlovely pictures of someone else whom I adore like Scary I mean Brian but whom I also feel compelled to pile it on each time I see him (and he gladly reciprocating.) If Brian is the little brother I'm scared of then Tony is the little brother that I hide fake snakes in his bed so I can hear him scream like a little girl all while I lmao.

We walk into the country club for the reception and there is an inviting hot bowl of cider near the name card table. Tony heads over to get some. A few moments later I see him making a face and then see that he is trying to eat the cinnamon sticks left out for garnish.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm trying to eat this."

"It's a cinnamon stick. You're not supposed to. It's to stir it."

I wish I could say that I was really grown up and mature and discreetly told him to throw it out but sadly, I was not and completely lost it. And major points to his extraordinary girlfriend (loves flamenco, awesome sense of humor, great taste, ate cake; listen to me now Tony do not screw this up or I will be sending you a copy of Anaconda along with your Best of Coldplay dvd) for not leaving when her date tried to eat the stirrer. (Of course later at the table I asked Tony if he'd like an acorn from the centerpiece to nibble on between courses.)

There were Vegas style bets on whether the great CP staff would actually have ONE drink or, or be even more reckless and have a piece of cake. I am happy to say that I did see them eat at least a bite of cake (the guy sitting next to me ate 2; guess those cinnamon sticks just weren't filling enough.) But boys and girls, don't try this at home without adult supervision. Look what happened to Mr. Magnificent Mobility aka Eric Cressey after one bite of cake and a few glasses of water.

I call this one The Dangers of Icing Consumption.

Before going in Tony asks me if I he could put something in my pocketbook (seeing how I had to take in the oversized bag since someone forgot my other one.) I agree thinking it will be his wallet or camera. He tells me he wants me to carry 3 cans of Spike. Um, no Tony. The "plan" was to put maybe a shot of vodka in the Spike. The only thing that made it in the Spike was ice.

Wow, double tounging the Spike there. Wild times at table 11.

Now, I have to admit that among being able to drink two Spikes at once, Tony does have two other great things going for him; he can "dress" (we'll forgive his maroon and red gym outfit) and he can dance. Seems his love for techno has done him so good. In fact all of the CP guys looked very dashing (their dates of course looked fantastic but that was completely expected) and hold on to your trap bar here, they can all dance. I write this with 100% sincerity. That front desk guy? Burning up the dance floor. And The Boss? Out there for consecutive songs; we're talking at least a half hour straight before taking a break. People, there was a time when I was on the dance floor with all of them dancing to Michael Jackson. You heard it here first.

Aquaman or maybe I should start calling him he who forgot his wife's bag, was kind of banking on the guys not to dance and was like "Oh no" when he saw everyone headed out to the dance floor. We have gone through major intensive dance therapy and he really is a lost cause. But now he has a new excuse. We're out there and I'm trying to tell him to loosen up and this is what he says, "You can't blame me. During my evaluation Tony said I have hip hinge issues and that's why I can't bend. That's why I can't dance." Thanks a lot Tony for giving him a valid excuse.

But out of all three of them, there was one that stood out with his Dancing with Stars moves. And I was smart enough to bring my camera out with me (as did the First Lady of CP.)

Here he is doing The Robot (but honestly, Front Desk guy's girlfriend was better at it.)

A little air guitar? Seriously though, points for the tie Tony. Fantastic color.

Okay, I'm not really sure what he's doing here. We were at the table taking a break and I look up and see him posing and instantly reach for the camera to capture this special moment.

Dude, do you deadlift? Sadly I did not have my camera with me when I caught him on the dance floor doing Spiderman walks with a hip lift. For those of you who have no idea what that is, it's a move they make us do doing our warm up. It's basically a stretch with a lunge. Not intended for the dance floor. At all.

We closed the place down and were able to bid farewell to Brian and Anna before they left on their honeymoon. It was so nice to catch up with everyone outside the gym and even nicer to see people in suits, dresses and black socks and not in wicking clothing.

I must say, we were a stunning table.

I knew a lot about the details of the wedding because Brian and I had talked about it. He had told me he and his mom were going to dance to Natalie Merchant's Kind and Generous. We all know how I feel about Natalie and I was so thrilled he picked that song. So as he is dancing with his mom I start to think about when my two get married and I lean over and whisper to Aquaman, "Just think one day Drew and I will dance. I can only hope he picks out such a beautiful song." He responds, "I'm betting he picks Tarantula by The Smashing Pumpkins."

OMG, wouldn't that be awesome moshing with my boy at his wedding????

Here's Natalie singing Kind and Generous and Break My Heart (and this version of the song will break your heart.)

La La Love You

2009-10-09T21:17:00.004-04:00

I am so exhausted (less than 5 hours of sleep, on the treadmill at 5:30 a.m., all day phonics training and packing for kids, dogs and me and the husband.) I can't even sleep so instead decided to write a wedding card for this weekend's nuptials and it got me to thinking about my special day 15 years ago.

It's been fun being the old married woman and trying to give advice to these youngins. Marriage is not easy. It is so, so hard. Getting caught in a routine and not making time for your relationship is a disease. Trust me on this one. Aquaman and I have crashed in the invisible jet and fallen to the bottom of the well a few times. We have had to have conversations that I never thought we would have to have. But we did and that is the key to our marriage at least; talk to each other. Except when you need black socks.

In sharing my marital sometimes knowledge, I got to thinking that so many times it's the smallest gestures that speak the most. With me? It's the hand on the shoulder or the "look." The look that says everything and burns to the middle of your heart and makes your chest burn. OMG, not only have I become Rachel Ray I know sound like a freakin Hallmark card. I will not cry tomorrow, I will not cry tomorrow....................

So many people say that my um, more "free spiritness" came through after my mom died. I don't think so. It was always there; I just didn't let it all hang out all the time. Take my wedding for instance. This week we were discussing Scary's wedding and he who is not my boyfriend made some comment about "the music better be good" and I said, "Believe it or not, I wasn't that into planning my wedding. There were only 3 things I cared about." Shock, me fashionista not that into it? I mean I was but I was not a Bridezilla at all (guess I was saving that spunk for my later years.) These were the three things I cared about:

1. The music. Of course. My band? The Search Party. They were awesome. My first dance? Isn't She Lovely by Stevie of course.

(FYI-it took Vic and I like 20 minutes to come up with the name tonight.)

2. The cake. Can we say chocolate cake with almond macaroon Kahlua filling (Lakota Bakery) and sunflowers on it. I am so not a flower person but sunflowers are my favorite.

And the last thing that was so important to me?

Like you had to even ask:

I had to pay homage to my Mexican heritage (I mean for crying out loud not only did I marry a white guy, but a Jewish white guy. The chutzpah that took (see, I'm a good Jewish wife; I bought challah yesterday.)

The stories about my wedding are legendary and maybe someday I will write about the entire day. But I leave you with the song that was at the beginning of my wedding video. Only I would start my oh so romantic wedding video with the lyrics, "Kick your butt, not too hard." See, I have not changed one bit. (And did I mention we're going to see The Pixies next month? They are our band. Never seen them live. Playing the entire Doolittle cd. Breathe Steph, breathe.)