When I am incredibly busy and stressed, I like to compound it all by beginning extensive projects other than that which I am supposed to be working on. I award myself extra points if they are unnecessary, irrelevant, and totally unimportant to anyone but me. And because I am compulsive, I MUST START THEM IMMEDIATELY.
Paul and I are on vacation this week… We’re celebrating nine years of being married. Nine years of being amazed at how lucky I got. Nine years of wondering if he listens to a word I say. Nine years of Paul failing to appreciate my talent for micromanagement. Nine years of me having 1,237,894% more(…)
When I was little, we didn’t have a TV. But sometimes, at my grandparents on Saturday nights, I was allowed to watch PBS. Which is where I saw The King and I and Kiss Me Kate. Fred Astaire, Gene Kelly, Rodgers and Hammerstein, Cole Porter… And I fully expected that when I grew up, Howard Keel(…)
Last weekend Paul and I went to Disco America—a Hustle dance competition. When I say, “Hustle” to people, it conjures up big mustaches, gold chains and skeevy guys. Lots of cologne, Saturday Night Fever, gold lamé, Scarface, white polyester, bubble machines and feathered hair. It wasn’t quite as awesome as all that—but it was pretty(…)
Last weekend, Paul and I went to the Philadelphia Dancesport Festival—a yearly ballroom and Latin competition. We saw some nice dancing, with the added value of an opportunity to wear excessive eye makeup. The event wasn’t as good as past years—we didn’t see anything truly spectacular. But it did make me think of the most(…)