Thought bubbles, anyone?

As I was sifting through photos yesterday, I came across this gem taken after our reception:

This is just a trick of the camera, though. She's really not angry. My mom was a Greg fan from the start, supportive through the whole wedding planning and pre-marriage phase. She was happy for us. Right, Mom?

Thought bubbles, anyone? 

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

Big City weekend

My mom and I spent Labor Day weekend in NYC, seeing shows, eating good food, and visiting with my sister Nancy, who lives there. I know I've said it before but New York is something of a pilgrimage for us. My parents lived there and loved it, I was born there, yada yada lalala. I grew up hearing NYC stories and feeling like it's home. It's one of our happy places. So when my mom came to Boston for a visit with us, we jumped on the chance to sneak away to the Big City for the weekend.

Big Apple, how do I love thee? Let me count the ways (and share in case others are looking for some NYC tips, especially since I got a lot of guidance from others' blogged suggestions. Isn't blogland grand?).

Good eats:

~ italian pre-theater dinner on 9th Ave at Roberto Passon : warm beet salad with goat cheese + veal scallopine

~ pear, brie, and honey sandwich at a french bistro I can't remember the name of but now I have a new favorite sandwich

~ Moto in Brooklyn: artichoke with saffron mayo + side of mashed potatoes + heavenly date cake

~ Pinkberry: coconut fro yo with dark chocolate and shaved coconut

~ Mother Burger: late night (post theater) lemonade and shared fries sitting in a courtyard and people watching

~ Magnolia Bakery (the one near 30 rock): devil's food cupcake with cream cheese frosting

~ junior mints at every show (to be expected when you're with my mom)

The Theata:

~ Billy Elliott, (with David Alvarez as Billy) Amazing.

~ West Side Story (we loveloveloved Anita and Maria and Bernardo but Tony was having an off night, although he is very handsome)

~ we decided to see The September Issue, the documentary about Anna Wintour (you know, the inspiration for the Devil Wears Prada) and producing the September issue of Vogue. I am now a huge fan of Grace Coddington; she steals the show

~ the 39 Steps (I had seen it before with G but it was still great fun. Kind of a mystery and a farce all in one)

New York moments--priceless:

~JLo and Marc Anthony sat a couple of rows in front of me at Billy Elliott. Totally surreal! He is tiny, she is gorgeous. They left with a bodyguard a little before intermission and again a little before final curtain.

~ sitting in Bryant Park with my mom, Nancy, and Nancy's boyfriend Dave. The fashion week tents were up, people were playing ping pong, and a quite crazy, slightly dressed, bearded woman nearby (she looked like Pan) made for a memorable afternoon

~ eating yogurt breakfast on a bench in Central Park

~ exploring the Brazil Day street festival on 5th Avenue, complete with mechanical bull riders, street food, loud music, and lots of yellow and green

~ hitting the candy bar at FAO Swartz

~ pretending we were guests at the Plaza Hotel (i.e., snooping through the lobby and smelling the flower arrangements to see if they were real)

~ watching the swing dancers in the center of Times Square

~ admiring the rooftop views from Nancy's apartment building in Brooklyn. Breathtaking.

~ listening to the Mad Jazz Hatters at Moto (see photo, far right. I was right next to them and loved every minute of it). Very cool early jazz + jugband + klezmer sound

~ seeing a guy in handcuffs on Times Square, standing next to some policemen. On closer examination, we saw that the guy was wearing a tshirt that said "Doesn't play well with others." Classic.

That's just what we do...

Once my mom was making dinner to take to someone.  Again (insert teenage eyeroll here).  I think I started making the initial squeaks and squawks about "why do they get that?  Can't we just keep it for ourselves? Why..." Or maybe I was a little more tactful and expressed my concern about my mom's busy schedule and did she really have time for this? But I remember she put down her spatula, looked at me and said kindly/firmly "Annie, this is just what we do."

I tucked that one away and have pulled it out now and then.  Who's we?  Women? Mothers? People? Neighbors? Humanity?  And how do we know what to do and what's enough? Make bread?  Have lunch together? Donate an organ? Give spare change?

* * *

You probably already know I'm a fan of writer Kelly Corrigan.  I subscribe to her blog and received a link to a new video today, which led me to another one.  Both (one funny, one poignant) are lovely reminders of just what we (friends/sisters/spouses/fathers.  But, I daresay, especially mothers) do.

I secretly hope we will be friends someday.

Happy Friday!  {I'm heading outside to appreciate our 70 degree weather!}

Maddy in China today: According to the itinerary, she visited the Olympic Park and Bird's Nest and Water Cube.

Attended a dinner with (luckies!) a kung fu demonstration.

Alternate reality, part 2

I was a graduate school baby, born in New York City when my parents were living there while my dad went to NYU.  There's a great family story about their arrival there, fresh from Utah and pretty newly married.  They were looking for an apartment, walking around the city and checking things out. One street looked especially promising. And there was a sign for an available studio apartment!  I think the conversation went something like this:

"This looks kind of nice."

"Yes (hesitant, looking with a critical eye), but it's on a busy street." 

"Well, it is kind of nice to be close to a park."

"That's true. Maybe we could get used to the noise."

"Should we go in and ask?"

"Okay."

So they did.  And were stunned by the rent amount the amused doorman quoted.

The address? Park Avenue across from Central Park!!!

I love the hearing about the charming, young naivete of my now seasoned and well traveled parents :)

Maybe it's because part of my heart is still in NYC but I love to read about people living there.  To live vicariously. Maybe in a parallel universe I would be younger, graduating from Juilliard, attending Fashion Week and the US Open, finding spontaneous fun around the city.  Just like Naomi and her cute husband living the newlywed life in the big apple.  I love this spontaneous dance fest she and her friends staged when they saw a cool painted van (more here). Everyone needs a good dancing posse who will embrace a moment like this (Naomi's the one with the long hair): 

Or maybe in yet another alternate reality I would be working on Broadway, having fabulous times with my actor friends (some of them famous) and embracing the city life like beautiful Natalie, a member of the cast of Grease.  

I really am happy with my own set of circumstances and life. But it's fun to know someone's living those other dreams, anyway.  

* * * 

Do you have a favorite vicarious living blog?