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Putting the pathetic in "apathetic."

I’ve been feeling a lot of apathy toward broadcasting our life on the internet lately. My life feels really cozy and happy these days. I work, he studies, we go to the gym, make dinner, watch a Netflix TV show, do laundry, rinse, repeat. Sounds drab to the outside world, but I couldn’t be happier with it (the only exception being the NASTY confrontation I had with our refrigerator this morning because the fruit drawer REFUSED to open more than two inches and I had to weasel my hand in there for my grape tomatoes and as a result my hand is scraped and raw. Lame 1970’s fridge.).

Said apathy is probably stemming from the fact that I recently deactivated my facebook account. I was realizing (and so was spouse) that following the people I love via virtual reality always winds up making me feel so blue. I miss all you people who don’t live here, and wind up feeling even farther from you after going through your photo albums of “Baby’s 1st Photo Shoot” or “Pictures of the Triathlon” or “Weekend in ______ City.”

Then, I inevitably start asking myself, “Shouldn’t I be doing/learning/making all the things that ____ is? Shouldn’t I be traveling to ____ like Whoseewhatsit? Did I miss my opportunity in life to become a _____ like JohnJaneSmithDoe?” And thus, I get myself wedged in a weird funk of patheticalness (yes, this is a real word per dictionary.com). I’m not proud of it, but it happens.

So, I’ve gone cold turkey. I feel like I’ve been unplugged from the Matrix. I feel like I’ve commenced some sort of 12 step program for addicts. I feel like Jessie from “Saved By The Bell” after Zach stages an intervention to get her off caffeine pills after she has a nuclear meltdown and she misses her girl-band performance (“I’M SO EXCITED! I’M SO EXCITED!”). Maybe someday I’ll want to dive back into my electronic friendships, but for now I feel like life is treating me right.

And this video that Harry found is also treating me right.

What I did after Church on Sunday.

There's a first time for everything.




(For those interested, I used this recipe.)

Nice day for a white wedding

A little over a week ago, the loverly wedding nuptials of my cousin James and his magnificent bride Adrienne took place. It's so nice when weddings happen in your neighborhood, and you don't have to fly anywhere. Especially when the neighborhood you happen to live in can boast some very beautiful and scenic places in which to have a wedding.

I tried (REALLY tried) to get pictures on my own. When I forgot my camera (typical), I took a few with Harry's iPhone.


Adrienne is what I like to call a bombshell. James, too.


(Dad and Uncle Robert pontificating on Hiroshima, or something while we wait for the couple)

Friends of my mother came up to us at the wedding reception and told me how my mother and I could be twins ("I mean really, just put your long hair on your mother and I can't tell you two apart!"). I'm always happy to hear that. She's a classy broad.

This past weekend, we saw the fulfillment of my birthday present come to pass in the form of a concert. We drove to Berkeley (aaaaaaand boy am I glad that we live in Palo Alto. I'm just SAYING) and saw Ray LaMontagne and David Gray in concert.



See them if you ever get a chance, that is unless you don't like getting your MIND BLOWN.

Ray LaMontagne and his band were tighter than a band of newsies (I realize the heresy of this statement). I couldn't take my eyes off them all, especially the drummer who not only looked like his arms were actually snappy sticks of rubber, but looked a good deal like James Lipton from "Inside the Actor's Studio."

Ray was smoky and husky (he doesn't come in any other flavor) and dare I admit that I became a little emotional during "Let it Be Me?"



And then there was David. He brings new meaning to the word "jig." He bounced around and rattled his head in between lyrics and punched the air and his voice was entirely inexhaustible, and from a distance looked like a younger Phil Collins. And what, my friends, is not to love about that?







I breathed a sigh of relief when he finally played "Shine" as an encore. Really, sometimes I have a beef with encores... we all know when David Gray walks off the stage that the crowd will put up a stink for at least one more song until he comes back out. Yet we will have to wait and scream for it. I heard that Guster once said in concert, "Well, that was our set, but we have a feeling when we walk offstage, we'll be prompted to come back for an encore, so how about we play three more songs right now?" THAT is my style of encore. Just give me what I want and don't make me wait.

Can you imagine how I handled waiting for Christmas as a child?