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On a whim, I decided to make some really ugly babies with my camera and do a food post. It demonstrates clear evidence that my food photography and styling has a long way to go…but the taste redeems it in the end. Killer French Toast. All you need is a little vinegar. Check it out over on The OC and Beyond…
Ok, so we’ve been trying to get Mom a day off every week or so. This usually happens on a Tuesday or Thursday and I either catch up on sleep or sanity, whichever I am in greatest need of. It’s making a big difference in the plan for self recovery. Because of it, these are some of the things that are happening:
1. I am actively trying to get enough sleep to keep me from having flashbacks to the movie Natural Born Killers. Family? You’re Welcome.
2. I have resumed any kind of a skincare routine and I am wearing make-up a little more often. People I meet randomly at Target? You’re Welcome.
3. And jewelery. It’s good to decorate yourself, right? It says you care.
4. I went to get my hair done. I went before my usual bi-annual due date. I made myself do it…and I wished again that I was one of those women for whom maintenance was non-negotiable. (I tried to make myself into one of those ladies after the triplets were born. Tried to develop a sense of entitlement. It clearly didn’t take, for reasons the Dragonlady pointed out, we were not raised to love ourselves that way. Probably so.)
5. I am a slightly better parent and a much better person. Finding your will to live can do that for a person.
So, I went for the hair appointment, for which I was both late and early (I am seriously considering trademarking the ability to make that happen). Then, sitting in my car, I decided to do something I never, ever do. I decided to take a picture of myself. I have long refused to be photographed. It has never been a comfortable process for me. So I decided to. I used the iPod Touch that is currently on restriction from one of the children and enjoying itself in my purse (watch how my Instagram contribution goes way down when this kid comes off restriction), and I took my picture. Here’s how that played out:
Pose, and…Snap. Hang on. My eyes look weird in that one. I’ll try it again. Snap. Huh, again with the eyes. Do over. Snap. What the? Snap. !! Snap. Snap. Snap. Snap. Snap. Snap!!!!!! Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh! What the hell is going on here?!! My eyes are TWO DIFFERENT SIZES! Is it a mini stroke? Has my face always been lacking in symmetry? Why didn’t anyone ever tell me!! Sweet Lord! I am the Elephant Man! And I am now sitting in the parking lot outside my hairdressers hyperventilating into a brawn paper lunch bag.
The good news if that my panic disorder is rather perfectly matched up with an amazing inability to focus and a piss-poor attitude, so after a few phone calls to take a poll on my new lazy eye situation, I am able to get back to the task at hand. A before and after shot for the hairdresser. In case I need to sue or something. Ready for it. Try not to look away…
Before...
(Do you see it? The lazy eye? There’ll be more of that later) Then, feeling all adventurous as I have been since sleep was reintroduced, I went in and tried to convince my hairdresser to make me look like this…
OMG - It's so me!
Sadly, she has far more common sense than I do. She made me think that we were going to get all wild and crazy, and then she pulled the old switcheroo at the end. And she did this instead…
Look...it almost covers my Lazy Eye
I think I’ll be able to work with this, despite the fact that it’s not as dramatic as I was hoping 
My next stop was to go and put some more money down to pay off for the restoration of my brother’s guitar. It’s the right thing to do. Buying a new camera for myself is not. Not yet. Too many other things that need the money. But I think about the guitar sometimes, the lone manifestation of a life that lasted a mere 23 years, one that ended so long ago that almost no body that I live my life with today even knows he existed, and I wonder if I shouldn’t just let it go. Sometimes it seems to limit my memories of him more than restore them. This guitar, and it’s a beautiful instrument, sat unplayed, in it’s case for 20 years. Will it go for another 20 years marking an absence instead of having a purpose? It just seems as though hope should swim more, and life should live towards the future, including the short one that he lived. It’s hard to know what to do here, and not everyone is as unattached to material things as I’ve become. So I did what a good caretaker does, I had it fully restored, all original hardware, and in a couple of months, it’ll come home and…wait I guess, to see if anyone in the next generation will play it.
Anyway, after that, just to tease myself, I went to the camera store I’d been wanting to visit. I’ve researched different cameras to death on the internet and at this point, I just wanted to hold a couple in my hand to see what felt right. That way, I can start a savings fund for it. I liked this one…
Me Want You...
But I get the feeling my budget will be screaming by the time I get to this…
This would make me happy too...
So, there’s the target. But here’s where the story get a bit interesting. I picked up what had to be one of the worst salesmen ever. I really wanted to buy, even something used just to start learning on. He could have put something in my hands that day and attached me to his store for the rest of my camera needs. He could have created that relationship. Instead, he tried to sell me his most expensive cameras based on, get this, my apparently freakishly large hands. I will need the right size camera for my giant hands. Serious? O.o *she went with her crazy, mismatched eyes* Not a single question on how I intended to use it, what features was I seeking. He never made any effort to discover my price range or my needs. In fact, he kind of made me feel like I shouldn’t even be in his store if I didn’t have money to burn. Is that the norm for the camera world? The good news is that the business card he gave me lists his days off, so I’ll be sure to find someone better on those days.
And finally, when I couldn’t bring myself to go home just yet I decided to investigate a new place that just opened. I was drawn in by the name, but I’m going back again and again until I’ve tried everything on the menu. Go Here…
Yum!
I went with the simplest thing possible, cause…well, I wussed out. And it was the best thing I’ve ever done (your know, in regards to tacos). Corn tortilla, carnitas, salsa, cheese and guacamole, onions and cilantro. That basic. And it was like angels cried taco tears in my mouth. I am going back for everything on the menu. One order at a time. I want one right now as a matter of fact. Chronic Tacos! Let the holding out begin!
In the meantime, I leave with my newly discovered Hunchback of Notre Dame look. Seriously, what is up with my eye size here?!!
I am Spock.
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Seth Godin, when he uses the term “Lizard Brain” is generally referring to our tendency to act out of the most primitive part of our brain. It’s an excellent concept and I highly urge you to look at his stuff if you haven’t already.
When I use the term “Lizard Brain” I am generally referring to people who are acting out of the smallest, most primitive, sub-wired part of their brain. The children. Most specifically, the ones around the age of toddlerhood. Those people. People to whom this seems like a good idea…
That’s my bathroom sink and that’s the water and cup of dirt the almost 3 year old added to it yesterday. N. O.
I admit, two, three and four, not my best ages when it comes to parenting. I am a decidedly sub-standard parent when it comes to dealing with people who have a head full of bad wiring. People who Bill Cosby once accurately described as having brain damage. The kind of people who would do something like this…
or this…
or this…
People who would do this kind of thing can’t be reasoned with. I mean that’s bad wiring. That’s the kind of thing Tina Fey was talking about when she said recently, “I think that any person being an a**hole deserves it,” Fey replies. “Especially toddlers-they’re total d-bags. You gotta let them know.”
Living with toddlers is like having some of the worst college room mates ever. Because to them, this is the right thing to do with a bottle of sunscreen…
And if given even the slightest opportunity, they will drink 5 juice boxes, one after the other. When they are caught engaging in that kind of behavior and scolded for it, they will respond by asking you if they can have another one. They will use this technique to open a cereal box…
and you will find the contents in random places around the house…
And at Christmas, they will decorate the house for you. Like this…
(I see a bear!) They will even do your purse for you. So awesome…
I have cleaned this purse three times. Everything still comes out of it really shiny. I look like a demented fairy everywhere I go. But when you try and correct any of this kind of behavior, they will do this…
And you will tell them to “Stop that!” and they will do this…
And when the nervous twitch starts, they will greet it with this…
But eventually, they will stop to rest…and you will love them (and book another round of electroshock therapy), because they look like this when they sleep…
And they need their sleep, because when they wake up they will want to do this…
In my book, this is the work of someone operating with a Lizard Brain.
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So, I’ve had 2 days of escape, and I no longer think I’ll find myself up on a roof somewhere watching random passersby through a sniper scope. I know, you’re all so happy to hear this, right? I spent about 2 and a half hours of my escape asleep in the parking lot of the local Nordstrom. That’s right, I napped in the car. Never went into the store to shop. Just went there to sleep. That’s what my life has come to…And that’s why, the next day, I was kidnapped by the Dragon Lady and her family to this place…
Hello Getty Center! Hello Light! (Museum light is the best light of all). So peaceful. So serene. Occasionally interspersed with things like this…
(It was actually a bit of a challenge to get this shot, because this is the busiest room in the gallery). Consequently, it is also the room with the most harassed looking security guard. I mentioned to the guard going out that they must hate drawing this room in the rotation. It’s just one big festival of “Please step back. You’re too close.” and “Don’t touch.” His desperate eyes said everything.
Seriously. Don’t Touch.
Back to our tour…If you like architecture and design (and I do. very much), then you can spend time in a space like this…
and enjoy design of this quality…
For those of us who are not church goers, there is a reverence and peace at work in places like this that soothes the soul. Broad, clear expanses that help to open your mind and soul to the things that time on the Hamster Wheel can sometimes make you miss.
Los Angeles bracketed by cleft-cut Italian travertine. Richard Meier is to be thanked for this space, by the way.
“The 16,000 tons of travertine are from Bagni di Tivoli, Italy, 15 miles east of Rome. Many of the stones revealed fossilized leaves, feathers, and branches when they were split along their natural grain.”
The stone—1.2 million square feet of it—is one of the most remarkable elements of the complex. This beige-colored, cleft-cut, textured, fossilized travertine catches the bright Southern California light, reflecting sharply during morning hours, and emitting a honeyed warmth in the afternoon.
Better, right? I was. Before I left, I stopped by to look at these…
Stained glass is always gorgeous.
One of my personal favorites. Making this gentleman emerge from a block of marble is one of the wonders of art to me.
Hallah! Monet! Hello Lovah…(step back. you can see it better that way)
And this lady had me pausing for a long, long time.
Much to my great delight, I also saw Cartier-Bresson, Strand, Talbot, Steichen, and others in the photography exhibit (no photos allowed) in this exhibit called “In Focus: Trees”
William Henry Fox Talbot - Getty Center
Parking is $15 and you can take you own lunch or buy one there to enjoy. A glass of wine too, if you are so inclined. Check out their site to plan your visit to either The Getty Center or The Getty Villa (my next stop).
Seeking light can lead you to places like this. Let’s make a pact to try and not forget to do it, ok?
I learned that my 7 year old is still one of the sweetest things ever created when he whispered in my ear first thing in the morning that he had taken some of his Easter stash from yesterday and hidden it around the backyard for his brothers and sisters to find…just because he though it might make them happy. In our house, the Easter Beagle looks like this…
I learned that it only takes one photo from Instagram to hook me like the worst king of junkie…and I wish I had any kind of photography types who were a regular part of my life to discuss that.
I learned that the boys still can’t color coordinate their clothes and that the oldest girl thinks that cut-off are acceptable as “nice clothes” and that before major events like Easter dinner with the in-laws you have to hold a military style inspection where you can assess the state of their acceptability. Deep sigh – and that I should keep searching for the energy to continue doing my hair and make up more often than I have been.
I learned that their is no end to the ways in which children can kill your car battery (4th time in two months), and that AAA still gets there when they say they will. I also learned that Free-On is a really Easter-y color blue when it explodes out of the grill of your car.
I learned that it is wretchedly painful to have to dial back down to a point and shoot after using a camera with a bit more under the hood, and that it’s even more painful to accept that fixing problems associated with Free-On erupting out from under your car hood is going to eat into your new camera budget, even though you shouldn’t have one at all.
I learned that I still love scalloped potatoes and soft dinner rolls, which I am eternally grateful to only have slapped on my ass one or twice a year. That kids with iPods make family visits oh, so much easier to manage and that the best policy for Easter might be to tell the kids “eat all the candy you want. All of it. Every bit.” and then to just leave it behind for the rest of the year, instead of having to be the bad cop for a bunch of juiced up sugar-jockeys for days on end.
And lastly, I learned that it takes much less than I would have suspected to get me to agree to this…
And that, my friends, is what #winning looks like. Somebody let Charlie know, ok?
Happy Easter!
There was an old woman who lived in a shoe.
She had so many children, she didn't know what to do;
She gave them some broth without any bread;
Then kissed them all soundly and put them to bed.