Best of .09 ~ Conference

It wasn't open to the public.  We didn't have those plastic nametags or plenary sessions or gather in a hotel ballroom.  I did do those kinds of conferences this year and they were good.  But my best conference this year was this one, with three lovely ladies:

We discussed problems + solutions.

We asked probing questions.

We planned + networked + made new connections.

We conferred + conferenced.

And booked a great closing session performance.

Best of .09 ~ Best night out

March 20 | House of Blues, Boston | The Pogues*

Prologue: A couple of years ago (back when G worked for a British company and I rode his coattails as often as I could when he went there for meetings) we wandered into a pub on a little side street in London. As a non-British non-drinker, I was always fascinated by the whole pub experience (do I choose where I sit? do I walk over to the bar and shout my soda order? is someone going to yell at me? and what about the crowd of people lingering outside? do I just walk up and make conversation? are they already in groups of friends?)

As you can tell, I overthink things.

This time it was irresistible. It was the night of the European Football Playoffs and there was a jolly chaos inside that we couldn't ignore. So we went in, joined in the happy cheering and jeering, suddenly die-hard English football fans by virtue of pub-adoption. I grinned through the whole jubilant exuberant night and left feeling like I had jumped, Mary-Poppins-and-Burt-style, into another world. Minus the penguin waiters.

* * *

G and I had tickets to the Pogues concert at The House of Blues. Let's see...Irish folk/punk band in Boston? In a concert hall with five bars along the interior perimeter? Think that'll be lively?

     

I'm pretty sure we were the only sober ones there.

I'm pretty sure lead singer Shane MacGowan was the least sober one there.

I'm pretty sure 85% of the attendees were singing along with the band at the top of their lungs.

It brought back memories of that merry pub experience (multiplied by 10). There aren't any seats at the House of Blues concert venue, which makes for a lot of dancing and interactions. Lots of grown tough burly Irish American men dancing jigs, complete with locking elbows and spinning. Pretty much like this:

   

It was amazing fun. We laughed a lot--at the dancers, at the manic mood of the whole audience, at the enthusiasm--and went home giddy and glad.

. . .

*Day Five of Best of 09 challenge, reposted from here. Close runners up: our family night out at the polo match/Newport cliff walk, Lauren's sweet sixteen, WaterFire in Providence.  My solo night out going to the Adele concert. The U2 concert with friends.  Good times.

Photo via MaryElle St. Clare's Flickr page

On not taking the road less traveled by

 

Just so you know, we will not be moving to Australia.

Probably you are not either?

We have been keeping this exciting possibility (Australia relocation) under our hats since late July, when G was told that he was one of a few attorneys in his company being considered to head up legal for the Australian branch of the company.  We didn't tell the kids (why get them all excited/nervous until we know for sure?), we didn't tell family (same reason), or local friends (it's so hard to be straddling the line between being here and leaving).  I did tell a couple of people who could know from afar and give me someplace to bubble up our news when I felt like I'd overflow (thanks, gals).

But the two of us, G and I, have talked about it a lot over the last months.  Most plans began with "If we're in Australia...." or "If we're still here..."  I admit, I looked into real estate and schools and church congregations.  I knew it wasn't a certainty but I did enjoy thinking about the possibility of starting all over in a faraway country (and continent!).  Unless I was worrying about going--moving the kids to a new country and new set of friends, distance from loved ones, missing our wonderful town.

Along the way, Australia came up in the oddest places. Almost every day someone mentioned it to me: they had lived there, were from there, wanted to go there. Was it a sign?!! 

No. We found out that someone else is going. Which is fine, really. We'll buy curtains finally and stay here longer. Now we know which set of advantages + blessings we keep. Plus I'm relieved for Lauren, who would have spent her junior and senior year there (is there a more impossible time to move?).

The thing is, I kind of like adventure and the road less traveled. Now I'm still just doing what I was doing before and where's the fun in that? (I know, I really do have a good situation here and it's a happy life but compared to Australia? Meh.)  It was fun carrying around this little nugget of a secret.

So long, Australia.  I had great hopes for us.

Also in other news: I am not pregnant. But for a while there (at least in my active imagination), I was raising a little caboose baby (12 to 17 years younger than the other kids) in Australia!

Why is hard to let go of something you never had?  And be relieved at the same time?

. . .

Best of 09 day 4: Best book. Fiction:  The Book Thief, a book I have been meaning to read for at least 2 years. I had started no less than 5 times before and never gotten past the first chapter.  Finally I did it this fall and loved it. I finished it on a Saturday afternoon on my bed. G came in as I was weeping profusely at the end and kissed me on the forehead.   Non fiction: Mindset.  I love Carol Dweck and her research. This is her general nonfiction book about her work, looking into how our mindsets (fixed traits or growth) affect effort and achievement.

Best of .09 ~ Best article

(This is a tough category, Gwen Bell!  Since I'm a doctoral student I read a way too many articles and several of them were influential for me this year, at least in a scholastic sense.  But no, the article that floated to the top of my mind wasn't a research article or a study.  It was this interesting personal essay from the New York Times about a woman's remarkable and radically different response to her husband's news that he wanted a divorce.)

When we were driving from Boston to NYC, my mom and I had a nice stretch of time to chat.  In keeping with every other road trip in our lives, my mom brought a folder of clippings from articles and essays she's cut out and kept over the previous months. (I have many memories of falling asleep in the way back of the station wagon, listening to my mom reading a short story or article passage to my dad. Back in the days when you could put down the seat, lie down with a pillow and sleeping bag, sans seatbelt.)  Anyway, she got this one out and started to read.

It fueled discussions, on and off, for the rest of the trip. Here's an excerpt:

This isn’t the divorce story you think it is. Neither is it a begging-him-to-stay story. It’s a story about hearing your husband say “I don’t love you anymore” and deciding not to believe him. And what can happen as a result...He was in the grip of something else — a profound and far more troubling meltdown that comes not in childhood but in midlife, when we perceive that our personal trajectory is no longer arcing reliably upward as it once did. But I decided to respond the same way I’d responded to my children’s tantrums. And I kept responding to it that way. For four months.

Instead, she said "I don't buy it," gave him space, and got on with her life.  Here's the part that really hit me:

You see, I’d recently committed to a non-negotiable understanding with myself. I’d committed to “The End of Suffering.” I’d finally managed to exile the voices in my head that told me my personal happiness was only as good as my outward success, rooted in things that were often outside my control. I’d seen the insanity of that equation and decided to take responsibility for my own happiness. And I mean all of it.

I'd love to hear what you think if you read the article. It's thought provoking and (I think) the "end of suffering" and "I don't buy it" approaches could be applicable in lots of areas of life, not just marriage.

. . .

Day Three of Gwen Bell's Best of 2009 challenge. And, yes, all three "best of" answers so far have included my mom in some way.  Interesting. (I must be missing you, Mom.) 

Image by Christopher Silas Neal, via NY Times

Best of .09 ~ Restaurant moment

September 6.  Brooklyn, NY.  Moto Restaurant. w| my mom, sister, and her friends:

My mom and I met in NYC for Labor Day weekend to visit my sister, see several shows, and eat our way through Manhattan.  Nancy and Dave made reservations one night for a restaurant near their apartments, in Brooklyn on the edge of Williamsburg.  It was a stand-alone little place that looked from the outside like it could have been a speakeasy at one point. Or an autobody shop.

It had a cozy vintage feel. After we sat down, the band came in to set up.  Right next to me. Now and then I chatted with the band between their sets.  The food was amazing.  I was with my mom and sister for the first time in a loooong time.  

restaurant |  Moto  in Brooklyn

food | artichoke with saffron mayo + side of mashed potatoes +heavenly date cake (best dessert of 09)

music | Mad Jazz Hatters , a blend of early jazz + klezmer + jugband

vibe | happy, content, whimsical, comfortable, cool + cozy

. . .

Day two of Gwen Bell's Best of 09 challenge