"Rotational Neglect" is a term that KT brilliantly coined to describe the practice where in trying to do everything, you're never giving 100 percent to anything and as a result all areas of your life suffer a little. I've been deep into this practice the last few weeks having lost my regular sitter/magician while gaining two new work projects. This was mayhem-inducing enough not to mention the staggering social calendars of preschoolers and trying to find time to squeeze in some Griswaldian summer adventures along the way. The PU has certainly suffered the effects of rotational neglect -- perhaps the most -- because currency is a blog's oxygen. To neglect a blog is to kill it (zero flags!) and that is not something I want to have happen here.
So I'm switching gears from RN to Serenity Preservation for the next few weeks.
When I boarded the ferry home from Nantucket a few weeks ago, I was surprised at how territorial I was of my own peace of mind, of the serenity I'd earned during four fantastic days on the island. The ferry was nearly-empty except for some loud and annoying French passengers who -- despite having the entire boat at their disposal -- decided to sit on top of me and pepper me with questions about Cape Cod. They even asked if I would point out the Kennedy Compound to them when we got close to Hyannis. Serenity threatened. I was offended. As far as I was concerned, I was still on vacation. I excused myself, grabbed my bag and walked to the opposite side of the boat. I pulled out my giant sun hat, put my feet up and read my book the rest of the journey.
I feel like I have to do that for awhile. Unplug. Step away from the computer. That said, I'm going to take a wee hiatus from the PU. A few weeks or so. The summer is a sea of endless distractions as it is and I'd rather be silent than make small talk for the sake of staying current. I hate small talk.
Aside: We're in the process of finding a pup tent and decent life jacket for Vito so he can come to the beach with us. When that happens, I can guarantee there will be a video posted up here similar to this one.
In the meantime, it's only appropriate that my last post for awhile contains the crappy low-res slideshow of the Nantucket trip --the 10th annual! This year's trip was most certainly in the Top 5. Even with bony cheese haters along for the ride and Kid Rock's abusive texts, it was all about hanging with the burds and mainlining Coronas & Prosecco on the beach. Viva la vida! (BTW, I planned on using that song as the slideshow's soundtrack but thanks to the sphincter that is DMR-protected music, it was not possible. I think I found a decent alternative, however). Enjoy!
23 July 2008
14 July 2008
At Last
(There he is)Dylan James Haley reared his sweet head -- which will surely sprout a mighty 'fro one day -- on Friday. Per happy text messages and picture mail, all is going well. Congratulations, Tom & Dawn! We love you!
03 July 2008
Random Quizzilla
1) If you could move to another continent to just chill out for one year, which one would you choose?
I want to say Europe but it'd be impossible to just chill out. Probably Australia because you'd get to experience the other side of the world without language issues. It seems like a great place to unplug, not to mention all those puddle-jumping excursions to the Kingdom of Tonga.
2) Which browsers do you use to surf the Internet?
Safari, Firefox
3) On a scale of 1-10 (with 10 being the highest), how much do you know about the history of your country?
Sadly, only 5-6 on a good day. While I know certain topics fairly well (certain wars, other events shoved down our throats in elementary school), my knowledge is far from comprehensive. Of course, I've retained all things trivial and useless like a song about Betsy Ross (inexplicably set to the tune of Battle Hymn of the Republic) that I learned in the 5th grade. Thanks, Sister Albert!
4) Finish this sentence: Love is...
...the best and worst thing that can happen to you, a simultaneously euphoric and eviscerating experience. All good. And so not.
5) What are your plans for the 4th of July?
The annual beach party/cookout with a big bonfire, baked beans, and street dancing with the kids, probably to a continuous loop of Rihanna and Chris Brown. Then, island bound for a few days.
I want to say Europe but it'd be impossible to just chill out. Probably Australia because you'd get to experience the other side of the world without language issues. It seems like a great place to unplug, not to mention all those puddle-jumping excursions to the Kingdom of Tonga.
2) Which browsers do you use to surf the Internet?
Safari, Firefox
3) On a scale of 1-10 (with 10 being the highest), how much do you know about the history of your country?
Sadly, only 5-6 on a good day. While I know certain topics fairly well (certain wars, other events shoved down our throats in elementary school), my knowledge is far from comprehensive. Of course, I've retained all things trivial and useless like a song about Betsy Ross (inexplicably set to the tune of Battle Hymn of the Republic) that I learned in the 5th grade. Thanks, Sister Albert!
4) Finish this sentence: Love is...
...the best and worst thing that can happen to you, a simultaneously euphoric and eviscerating experience. All good. And so not.
5) What are your plans for the 4th of July?
The annual beach party/cookout with a big bonfire, baked beans, and street dancing with the kids, probably to a continuous loop of Rihanna and Chris Brown. Then, island bound for a few days.
01 July 2008
Disconnected
Today my parents are moving to a sweet waterfront condo that we will reap the benefits of for many years to come. Of course, they're in the downsizing phase which means they sold the house where I grew up. Such an event would normally send me into a downward spiral of excessive sentimentality, but it hasn't. I am (sort of) a reformed nostalgiaholic. I don't remember exactly when I had my epiphany and realized that all my whitewashed memories only got me into trouble, but since then I've been all about moving forward, and when looking back, doing so without becoming consumed by emotion. Still, with this life event, I anticipated some sadness. We went over to the house to help move some boxes and do some final purging of personal relics that had been collecting dust in the attic since I moved out 16 years ago. I walked through the empty, echoey rooms with 34 years stuffed into cardboard boxes. I looked at the sparse walls with tiny holes where pictures once hung, all too aware that Lois wasn't about to rush in with a can of spackle. I waited for the feeling to wash over me, and it wasn't nearly as bad as expected. I almost felt disconnected.
I think there are several reasons for this. First, the new owners are my dear friends JAL and Mike. I know they'll take amazing care of the place and we'll have many new memories there. Second, the house had gone through so many incarnations through the years. Every time you'd leave for awhile and return, the inside of the house was different -- some of the rooms rendered unrecognizable due to my mother's admitted addiction to furniture rearranging. Sometimes the dining room was the living room and vice versa. Sometimes the walls were different colors. Sometimes it took 15 minutes to find the relocated boxes of cereal. When I left for college, I knew my U2 and Cult posters were being peeled off the walls before I hit the Mass Pike and being replaced by watercolors and guest soaps. So, knowing the place was going to change again was really no biggie -- and I still get to visit. Nostalgia nipped in the bud.
But then I was blindsided. We headed over to the new condo where Caroline and Paul had set up a picnic blanket on the floor. We had some D'Parma's salads, enjoying the ocean air. We talked about how nice it'll be to have dinners here, how the kids will love the pool, etc. Then, Lois said: "Oh, we have a new phone number." I pulled my cell out to program it in and saw the old phone number there: 617-569-5438. It's the phone number I'd had all my life, the numbers that dialed home even when I no longer lived there. I was suddenly paralyzed by sentimentality and couldn't bring myself to delete it. It took awhile, but I finally did it. It was the old struggle, overcoming a connection, this time to a now disconnected phone number. 617-569-5438.
I think there are several reasons for this. First, the new owners are my dear friends JAL and Mike. I know they'll take amazing care of the place and we'll have many new memories there. Second, the house had gone through so many incarnations through the years. Every time you'd leave for awhile and return, the inside of the house was different -- some of the rooms rendered unrecognizable due to my mother's admitted addiction to furniture rearranging. Sometimes the dining room was the living room and vice versa. Sometimes the walls were different colors. Sometimes it took 15 minutes to find the relocated boxes of cereal. When I left for college, I knew my U2 and Cult posters were being peeled off the walls before I hit the Mass Pike and being replaced by watercolors and guest soaps. So, knowing the place was going to change again was really no biggie -- and I still get to visit. Nostalgia nipped in the bud.
But then I was blindsided. We headed over to the new condo where Caroline and Paul had set up a picnic blanket on the floor. We had some D'Parma's salads, enjoying the ocean air. We talked about how nice it'll be to have dinners here, how the kids will love the pool, etc. Then, Lois said: "Oh, we have a new phone number." I pulled my cell out to program it in and saw the old phone number there: 617-569-5438. It's the phone number I'd had all my life, the numbers that dialed home even when I no longer lived there. I was suddenly paralyzed by sentimentality and couldn't bring myself to delete it. It took awhile, but I finally did it. It was the old struggle, overcoming a connection, this time to a now disconnected phone number. 617-569-5438.
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