Feb
05
2014

Sleeping In Seattle

 

Hello from Seattle, where it is currently really, really, really cold. No, I mean really cold. Like, think of the coldest thing you can think of right now—a milkshake with ice cubes in it, the Arctic tundra, Paris Hilton's heart—and multiply that by a hundred and four, and that is how cold it is here. I just walked seven blocks back from my office and by the time I pushed open the doors of the hotel lobby, I couldn't feel most of my extremities, and I was wearing gloves, a hat, and a coat that kept me pretty toasty in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan. In November. I mean, come on. 

On the upside, here is the view from my office, which could not possibly be more beautifully Seattle-ish.

Okay, wait, maybe it could be a tiny bit more beautifully Seattle-ish, but only if it had Frasier Crane somewhere in the left hand of the frame. Holding a cup of coffee. Next to McDreamy. 

(Is McDreamy still a thing? Do people still watch Grey's Anatomy? I remember the last time I visited Seattle, I was obsessed with the show and kept thinking I saw Meredith everywhere, but I must confess that I stopped watching several years ago and now I have no idea what the residents of Seattle Grace are up to anymore. Although presumably the same five people are still getting together and breaking up in various combinations.)

As well as not realizing that it was going to be this cold in Seattle—I mean, it's not like I have a weather app on my phone or anything; it's not like I could have looked it up (I could have looked it up)—I also did not realize that I was going to be arriving in the city on the day of a major parade. Why was there a major parade in Seattle today? Well, if you just asked yourself that question, you're in good company, because I did not know either. This is because the parade was to celebrate the winning of the Superbowl, but because the Superbowl is a sporting event and my brain shuts off at the phrase "sporting event" somewhere around "spor—", I kind of didn't really pay it any attention until the hotel check-in person said "wow, lot of people out there for the parade, huh?" and I said "oh, there's a parade today? For what?" and then I was actually asked to leave the United States of America immediately for unpatriotic conduct and also my husband texted me and asked for a divorce. 

(Whatever. Talk to me when there's a parade for the Oscars. Oh wait, there is! It's Live From the Red Carpet on E! and I have the time and date of it written down in my planner. Look, I'm sorry, we all have our passions. Yours might be football but mine is marveling at what a good job that boob tape is doing at holding everything in.) 

I am going to finish this now because I have one-quarter of The Goldfinch left to read—I have been dragging it out for an entire month because I never want to not be reading it—and also a pack of Skittles to get through. In bed. In this quiet room. Bolstered by the magnificent knowledge that when I turn off the light and drift into sleep tonight, no-one is going to wake me up three hours later and demand to eat. Small pleasures, friends. You can't even imagine. 

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Jan
13
2014

And In The End We All Survived

First of all, thank you so, so, so much for all your kind and compassionate and encouraging comments about my return to work. I read them over and over, and they helped me so much to feel better about it all. I worked from home last Wednesday, Thursday and Friday—the equivalent of inching body-part-by-body-part into the swimming pool, as opposed to just cannonballing in from the diving board; highly recommended if you can swing it—and then today I actually went back to the office for real.

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Jan
06
2014

These Days Are Numbered

I go back to work on Wednesday. Even writing that sentence, my heart simultaneously plummeted and soared, like when you get on an elevator that you think is going down but then the doors close and it starts going up. 

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Dec
31
2013

A Lot Of Words About 2013

Oh hey, remember me? Here I am on the very last day of 2013, squeezing in one last blog post so I can say that I updated eight times since mid-July instead of seven. I mean, I don't know who I think I'd be saying this to—the imaginary blogging police, I can only assume, who presumably monitor this kind of thing?but anyway, there you go.

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Nov
17
2013

I Wrote This Entire Thing Without Taking A Breath Can You Tell

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Nov
11
2013

Party At My Crib

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Nov
04
2013

There Is No Narrative Construct To This Blog Post But I Hit Publish So I'm Calling It A Victory

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Oct
03
2013

You Are Doing Just Fine

One of the things that has surprised me so much about having a baby—and there is so much that does surprise you; leaves you reeling, in fact—is that almost everyone I've spoken to in the last eleven weeks since Hugo was born has asked me how I'm doing. How I'm doing. Once we've ascertained that the baby is thriving and well and sleeping just enough that Sean and I aren't contemplating driving him back to the hospital and asking about their return policy, their attention is turned to me.

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Aug
26
2013

Parents Of Twins, I Salute You

So having a baby is a little time-consuming, turns out. I know! Who'd have guessed! Despite the fact that Hugo has proven, so far, to have inherited his father's mellow, easygoing temperament—as opposed to his mother's, ahem, less mellow, less easygoing one—the basic job of keeping a tiny human being fed, happy, and not rolling around in his own poop all day has been surprisingly all-encompassing.

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Random Flashbacks

Nov
23
2009

Are You Number 744?

Well, mother of pearl and sweet cracker sandwich: who'd have thought that there'd be over a thousand entries for last week's Clarisonic giveaway: 1,113 to be precise, which is a number so stupendously large to me that I can hardly believe it. If only there were a way to give away 1,113 Clarisonics, you know? But I guess that would make me Oprah. 

(Look under your seats, everyone! Do it right now! Just in case!)

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Sep
08
2008

What's In a Name? Well, a Free Nintendo DS Lite, For a Start...

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Apr
28
2006

On Feeling Conflicted Over Polygamy

I'm normally fairly adamant about what I like (black licorice, good manners, boys who layer a short-sleeved t-shirt over a long-sleeved one) and what I don't (Ben Affleck, lipliner, "your" when it should be "you're.") But there are some things about which I just don't know how I feel. Old Navy, for example. The prices are cheap, the stuff is cute, but you can hardly ever wear anything after four or five washes. And Shakira!

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Mar
21
2006

Live & Unplugged

My dad taught me to drive, and to do Sudoku puzzles, and how to shade the iris of an eye in a life drawing to make it look real. He taught me to pack a suitcase properly, and how to ski better, and when I was 13 or 14, he taught me how to play the guitar. The first thing he showed me was a series of three very easy chords; the kind of thing everyone learns to play in the beginning.

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Feb
15
2011

Whole Lotta Nothing And The Barnyard Funk (Add That To My Collection Of Future Band Names)

I cannot tell you why but I just googled "is Ryan Seacrest Ryan Seacrest's real name?" (Spoiler alert: yes.) I have no idea why I did this---I have no interest whatsoever in Ryan Seacrest, other than a passing query about whether "Seacrest" was a real name or a made-up one---but I have been kind of spacy and dazed all day, which is probably one part Dayquil, one part grogginess from the Nyquil (is it normal to have such vivid dreams or did the spirit of Jim Morrison slip a tab of acid inside my half-closed mouth as I was d

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May
10
2010

How To Make Caramels For Someone You Like

A couple of years ago, I came across this incredible recipe for salted caramels. I know that sounds super fancy, like you need a granite-topped kitchen with two ovens to make it, but I assure you it's totally not. You basically just need butter, sugar, cream, salt, and an excellent sense of timing; when you're making caramels, I've discovered, mere seconds can determine whether you end up with a pan of chewy deliciousness or a pan of brittle filling-wrenchers that needs to be scraped into the garbage as soon as it's taken off the stove.

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Jun
11
2009

What Do You Wear To Your Own Engagement Party?

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Jan
25
2011

Splendid Thing: Dan Mangan

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(My imaginary critic speaks in italics a lot. Also smells like boiled eggs and disappointment.)

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