Happy Birthday, Grandpa Ernie

*WARNING - This post contains graphic images and language. If you are offended easily, do not read on and this isn't the blog for you.*

Grandpa Ernie's birthday was yesterday, March 29th. And a quick shout-out to my good friend April who also celebrated a birthday yesterday as well as....HER ENGAGEMENT!! Yay, April and Fred!!!!

Back to Ernie. We're going over his house tonight for a Passover Seder run by his wife/Cassidy's mom, Ruth. We were asked to bring the dessert. What they don't know is exactly what we're bringing for dessert:



Yup. Isn't it beautiful? This Pumpkin Pudding Penis Cake was lovingly baked and decorated by Cassidy. You may ask why we're giving Grandpa Ernie a penis cake. It does seem strange, don't it? Not in this family. Two years ago, my good friend Nora lovingly baked and decorated a chocolate penis cake for my bachelorette party. Pictures were taken. Chocolate penis was consumed. When this story got back to Ernie's ears, he was overjoyed to hear how we celebrated my impending nuptials. You see, Ernie has himself an excellent sense of humor. Since that party, if my friend Nora is so much as mentioned in passing, Ernie yells, "Where's my penis cake?!?!" This has happened so much that we decided to do something about it.

The idea came to me over the weekend and I had no idea how I'd have time to procure a penis cake pan by today without ordering one online. Luckily, Northampton has a solution only 1.5 miles from my house:



Amazing.net - Northampton's answer to your sexual needs. I actually called them up while I was nursing my daughter and I managed to ask if they had penis cake pans in stock without laughing. "Yup." they said, also without humor. It must have looked interesting to Cassidy to see his wife call up a sex shop while wearing no shirt. This is a classy house.

Minutes later, I was in the "colorful" shop, grateful for their back door. Their front door is right on a main street and I wear a bright fuschia coat and know lots of people in this town. Anyway, the cake is now baked and ready and we can't wait to see Ernie's face when he sees it tonight.

Scarlet sort of turned up her nose at the cake. I didn't realize I was raising a Puritan over here:



However, then she rallied:



We had originally planned to hide the cake in Ruth's office throughout the Seder and dinner, and then surprise Ernie with it but I couldn't wait that long. Soon after we got there, I had my camera ready to capture the moment he saw the cake. I think this photo does the moment justice, don't you?



And this:



And, finally - the Happy Penis Couple:



Cassidy's three younger cousins also shared in the festivities. I don't usually like being too vulgar in my posts. We all know I have a sick, sick mind but I tend to be careful with Facebook and this blog because I like to write with all ages and beliefs in mind. However, the evening's best quotes belonged to 8-year-old, Solomon and I couldn't resist sharing:

"I never thought I'd say this, but cocks taste great!"

"Can I have some more cock without the cream?"

And then on an unrelated but still funny note, we were talking about healthcare reform and he said: "Can I change the subject? This is really boring." Then he proceeded to think up funny Homer Simpson quotes.

All in all, a great night! Happy Passover, all.

Rainy Day Picture Pages

...because it's just so damn fun!



Ahh...good times. When I was extremely young, I used to call my big sister, Lindsay, "Marvelous" and then explode into laughter. I think I thought it was an insult at first and then I liked how it rolled off my tongue. I used to put my arm around her like she's doing with me above, sway, and sing, "Me and Marvelous!" which was a great song I made up. When we were much older I made her a mix cd called "The Me and Marvelous Mix" and "The Me and Marvelous Mix II" and compiled a pretty thorough collection of songs meaningful to our shared lifetime. This picture was probably way before I learned the word "marvelous" but it still reminds me of it.



I don't have to get wordy or rambly to explain this one. Eighth grade. Good friends. Halloween. "Rocky Horror Picture Show." I'm supposed to be Magenta.



This one intrigues me. I have an amazing memory and I can remember as far back as two-years-old. This probably isn't too long ago and I have absolutely no idea where and when this was taken of me and my little sister, Marisa. I truly hope she can shed light on this for me. I especially like my radiant skin.



I think "Fun With Pictures" is more fun with more moose. This is Muddy. My friend and I saw him on the side of the road somewhere in the Great North Woods of New Hampshire. We slammed on the brakes when we saw him and screeched in reverse and managed to royally piss off a clown car full of locals in a pick-up truck. And I got too close to the moose to take this picture and some men came running and yelling out of the office building across the street to warn me. Wait, office building?? In the Great North Woods of New Hampshire? I suppose it's possible. Maybe it was a lumber building. I don't know. What I do know is that the locals thought we were idiots.



I didn't want to talk about this one because it's a downer, but it came up on random and I plan to tell a story about every photo I'm given. I'm so glad no 6th grade heinous hair photos have resurfaced...yet.
So most people know that I don't like cats and I think they're icky. What less people know is that I actually had two kittens as pets...very briefly. I was very heartbroken and desperate and living alone at this point in my life. I made a very bad decision to adopt these two kittens, Pumpkin and Bella. Pumpkin (left) sadly died very young. She had something called a liver shunt that couldn't be detected when she was born but it meant she could never grow past kitten-sized and that she also couldn't digest food no matter how much she ate. I tried to keep hope but she passed away. Bella (right) was so evil that I couldn't keep her. She used to hide behind corners and jump out and maul my legs when I walked by. A good friend I used to know found her a home for me. I have not missed her for one second since. I think Pumpkin and I could have been good friends. She used to climb into my pillowcase and purr and vibrate my pillow. I took this photo with the sun streaming in because I thought it made them look like criminals or something. It's just one of those photos I really like but I don't look at it often because it was a sad time.

Our Trip to the Farm

*WARNING: This post contains graphic images.*
I don't think there's anything in here that any of you can't handle but I have to throw this out there just in case anyone is squeamish or queasy right now.

So today started like most other days. Scarlet woke up hungry somewhere in the 7:00-8:00am hour and we began our day. Hers included two naps with Daddy. Mine included a much needed haircut and an eyebrow threading.
Scarlet watched me apply lip gloss and then decided she wanted to try it too. She couldn't quite figure out how to use it, though:



Then we set off for Amma Peggy's house. She lives in a sweet bungalow right near UConn-Storrs and had made us delicious carrot soup, garlic bread and chocolate chip cookies. Peggy and Scarlet shared a bowl of soup and then rolled a ball on the floor. They love each other very much:



We rounded up Peggy's dog, Chloe, and set off to visit the barns at Uconn's Department of Science. They are open to the public and had many visitors since it's baby animal time! We saw many cows with their newborn calves, most of the calves under a week or two old. A lot of the mother cows were wary of us and made groaning noises. That's ok because I had Scarlet with me and I was wary of those cows as well so I groaned back at them.
We snuck into the sheep barn and saw tons of baby sheep. They pranced and danced for us. Some of the adult sheep didn't like our intrusion and bleeted angrily at us. One hothead in particular jumped up on the fence and yelled obscenities at us. What a silly sheep. Finally an employee busted us for sneaking into the sheep barn and with a baby to boot, so we went back to the cow barn and saw a mother cow about to give birth. However, the farmers (read: not vets) had reason to believe the baby was both upside down and breech so help was called.

This took a lot of time and we got bored and went for a nice walk with the stroller. We came back to load Scarlet into the car but curiosity got the best of me and I went back to see the cow in labor. She was still in distress but now help had arrived - a farmhand with tons of cow knowledge and zero cow bedside manner. After he skittishly checked the cow out, he announced, "Let's take her to the shoot!" Some children there were scared and said, "What's a shoot???" He had to explain that he wasn't going to kill the cow but needed to take her to an area called "the shoot" so they could pull the baby out. He looked and sounded a lot like Buddy from "Ace of Cakes."

At this point, Scarlet really needed a nap and we had dinner plans to get to but I had to see this cow's birth through. I was told, "Upside down and breech? The baby is most likely dead." Why, oh why, did I not leave then? I guess I needed to see how the story played out. At this point, you could see the calf's feet sticking out of the mama cow:



Poor, poor cow.

Two people then tried to pull out the baby:



Then there were three:



The cow dropped to the ground and the three people lowered themselves as well. They pulled and they maneuvered and they pulled and...

There he was. Welcome to the world, little cow. Are you ok?



Yes, yes I am ok. But brrrr.....It's freaking almost April, for God's sakes!



I'm cute. I'm small and I'm new and I'm skinny and I'm cold. Do you think they'd consider changing the school mascot to me?? I'm much more common around these parts than the elusive white husky.


The End.

Amma Peggy promises to update me on the mama and baby cow's conditions. It was a rough birth and the poor mom had had enough. I hope they got to bond later.

We took a quick trip to the big UConn bookstore for hot coffee and a UConn Huskies dress for Scarlet.

Afterward we went to Grandpa Larry's house for an absolutely delicious dinner of (inappropriate) corned beef, salad, potatoes and carrots, and noodle kugel. He also made chocolate mousse pie for dessert. Uncle Sam and Aunt Jess were there for some ridiculous and fun conversations. Scarlet has decided that she loves them very much and that she wants a lip ring just like her Uncle's:



Bedtime.

Deep Thoughts

by Jack Handey.

Or rather, by me. I've had a deep thoughts kind of day. And I don't mean heavy, overbearing thoughts. I mean that I noticed everything a little more than usual today. It was in the air. I hope I wasn't staring at people or staring into space too much. I probably was.

Anyway, deep thoughts:

- I've been sitting on a few blog entries that have been ready to go for a few days but I haven't published them yet because I haven't had the heart to post above my previous story about my father. I like to let the heavier posts percolate for a few days.

- Speaking of which, my aunt (father's baby sister) read my blog and wrote me a beautiful email in response to it. The sentence that resonated the most with me was, "Oh, how he loved you." That hits me so hard in the heartstrings, you have no idea. I feel very blessed to have a daughter who has a wonderful father. Watching Cassidy love Scarlet = heaven on earth.

- With my aunt's email freshly percolating (check it - it's the word of the day) in my mind, my car was stopped by a crossing guard to let a little girl cross the street to school. She had tangled hair and a too big backpack weighing her down. She had the most innocent and cautious expression on her face. She also hit me hard in the heartstrings.

- I've seen my old boss THREE times in the last week. That's three more times than I've seen him in the last nine months. I think he's on my radar because I'm remembering how I started my old job at this time last year. Maybe he's always been around and I'm just starting to notice it now.

- Today on the radio, the DJ referenced Tim Curry for his role as Dr. Frank-N-Furter and also talked about his solo album "Simplicity." Random and awesome since I had just switched the radio station back to 102.1 and I very nearly missed this.

- I don't actually think I'm a great photographer. I post a lot of pictures because I think my kid is cute. Notice how it never happened before she was born?

- I let a car go in front of me and he rolled down his window and gave me a thumbs up. It was so cool! I've been thinking about it a lot. He probably had no idea his simple gesture would stay on my mind.

- Today at the dentist, I went into my Zen relaxation state to pass the (painful) time and I heard a woman's voice in the next room that sounded so much like my mom's voice. I smiled dreamily and thought to myself, "Nice. My mom is hear to pick me up and make me feel better. I hope I get a treat." It was an interesting space out considering I didn't even get any good drugs from the dentist. Seconds later, I heard Scarlet shriek happily in the waiting room and I came back to reality - Wow. Now I'm a mom who's going to make her daughter feel better after the dentist/doctor.

- I went to Yellowstone with my ex a few years ago. We were walking on some wooden planks built over geysers and gas bubbles. An adorable little girl was running towards her parents and she had shiny curls and huge eyes. She was the cutest toddler I'd ever seen. My ex said she looked like Meg Ryan. Anyway I was looking at Scarlet today and she's turning into that cute little girl. She's turning into the little girl I've always dreamed of.

That's about it. I've been hard at work updating my smugmug photo albums. People often ask me if there's an online one stop shopping place where I keep all of my photos. There is a place that has lots of my pictures and it's growing.

This is a link to a gallery that's all Scarlet over the months:
http://letmebestormy.smugmug.com/Tamara-Photos/Scarlet

Here are my favorites in general.

Puzzle Pieces

I'm going to talk about something important here today and I'm really not sure how it's going to go. And that's ok. I'm using my wedding program again as reference. When we wrote our wedding program, I was smack in the middle of a writing dry spell that lasted a few years. I must have rallied everything I had in me to get the program and our wedding vows done. It was just that important. Not to mention, the impending marriage instilled in me a desire to reevaluate the people who had left my life too soon because I was strongly noticing how much I wanted them there on my guest list and sitting at the special tables during the reception. I had two special parents to walk me down the aisle, and if you count Cassidy's family, I gained four new parents the evening we got married. Six parents. Six strong, supportive, loving parents. I am so lucky. And yet, someone was missing that day - my birth father.



I've spent most of my life slowly putting puzzle pieces together to solve a puzzle I'll never actually solve. I'll come damn close, though. It's the puzzle of who my father was. I've got some flat-ended pieces of my father from here and there as I, like many other puzzle solvers, like to make the border first. I know where he was born, where he went to school, what didn't work for him career wise, and what worked for him incredibly well. I know that he was handsome, sarcastic, charming and neurotic. I know he could polish off a bag of chips and a half dozen White Castle burgers in one sitting and that running made him puke. I know that those things didn't help to prevent his untimely death at 36-years-old from a massive heart attack. I know that it happened in front of me three weeks before my 4th birthday and that the whole house shook from the impact of his tall body falling to the floor. I know that when the ambulance wheeled him out, that was the last time I saw him. I don't talk about these graphic images to free them from my soul. They've been freed many times over. I talk about them to put them out there. No mysteries here.

So that's my good, strong puzzle border. I've taken it apart and put it back together many times as I've grown older and more truths have been revealed to me. There are empty spots in my border but that's ok because that's info I can always find through research. It's the juicy middle pieces that I'm lacking.

About a year after I graduated college, I took a job as a school photographer in Dover, NJ where I was in charge of class photos. I mostly worked in Morris County schools around where I grew up and it was also where my father taught 5th and 6th grade at Fernbrook School in Randolph. I didn't get out to the school much but they had planted a cherry blossom tree when he died and also donated a plaque in his name. I knew the school had hired my company for school pictures so I arranged to work that day. I didn't really know what to expect by going there after so many years. Obviously I knew it would be emotional but I just went there with an open mind. Most of the teachers were younger so I finally spoke with an older teacher who would have worked with my father. I don't remember his name but I mentioned that my father had worked there and had died and before I could say more than that, he just looked me over and said, "Steven Klein." I nodded and his eyes grew wide and watery. He said something that resonates with me very often: "I can see him in my mind today as clearly as if it were still 20 years ago." He also called him charismatic, powerful, and funny. He showed me his old classroom. When I got in my car after work, I had a breakdown that I was able to pinpoint the cause of: my father has always been described to me as such an amazing man and I was his daughter and never got to learn that firsthand. I was robbed. I know we were close and I have scattered memories of spending time with him but I never got to know him through anything but a very small child's eyes. I can tell he was a good father and that I loved him very much:



I'll never know what it was like to sit in a room with him. I have his amazing metabolism but we've never shared a pizza. I have his sarcasm but I've never heard his jokes. I have the feeling of having been loved by a strong father but I've never gotten to look at him and watch the good just radiate out.

Every now and then I play a question and answers game with my mom to get to know more about him. It happens in chunks and it's always relevant to something going on in my mind. When I was scared to go to the doctor to get my heart checked out, I asked all about his medical history. (My heart is just fine)
When I was falling in love with my husband, I asked my mom what it was like to fall in love with my father. Today I referenced my previous post about all my quirks and fears and asked my mom about my father's quirks and fears. He was a stubborn mule as I am. He got set in his ways sometimes and just refused to try something new. My father wouldn't snorkel or try lobster. He wouldn't sit in the backseat of a car and he hated many white foods. If given the choice to snort cocaine or go shark diving, he'd snort cocaine. I'd go shark diving.

Anyway, sometimes it's just fun to play 20 questions with my mom. He died a long time ago and I'm most sorry we can't just hang out as adults. All I can do is love my daughter the way he loved me and never stop asking more questions about him. There's people out there whose brains I haven't picked. His older brother is one of them. Someday.

My mom remarried and my dad got to walk me down the aisle. And he raised me. And his granddaughter loves him very much, as do I. I lost a father but I also gained a whole new family.

Standing Tall

In my vivid dream last night, I posted a blog entry with just the lyrics to the "Perfect Strangers" theme song from about twenty years ago. I thought I was so hilarious in this dream! I thought it was so meaningful. I guess that's how I used to approach AOL IM years ago. Ironic song lyrics as a status update. Hey, I haven't signed onto that in about three years. Is it still going strong? Anyway, just thought I'd follow up on this dream. Maybe it does mean something.

Sometimes the world looks perfect,
Nothing to rearrange.
Sometimes you get a feeling
Like you need some kind of change.
No matter what the odds are this time,
Nothing's going to stand in my way.
This flame in my heart,
And a long lost friend
Gives every dark street a light at the end.
Standing tall, on the wings of my dream.
Rise and fall, on the wings of my dream.
The rain and thunder v The wind and haze
I'm bound for better days.
It's my life and my dream,
Nothing's going to stop me now.

Sunday Night-Itis

I feel like I haven't blogged in awhile and really, I so have. I still religiously follow blogs that are updated maybe once a month tops, and I'm beating myself up over a few days. I may have a few random and shorter ones in the next day or two as my mind and body all recover from a great first weekend. My NJ friends came up and the weather cooperated with us wonderfully. We got to explore the great town of Northampton and just have some girl fun. I like girl fun. Scarlet and I have girl fun but we can't have what I'd consider an effective conversation about family, boys and good jeans. This morning Cassidy made a truly ideal brunch and Holly joined us. Cheese eggs, bacon, potatoes, pancakes, strawberries and freshly made whipped cream, toasted coconut creme coffee. Also - homemade whipped cream in my coffee can make my month, much less my week or my day.
My friends left and my mom joined us. It was a nice transition because she blended right in playing with and feeding Scarlet and giving me time to recover from the weekend. If everyone had left and she hadn't joined us, I'd feel no sense of alone time relief because I'd have Scarlet to take care of. Friends and family are so great. I thought that several times this weekend as I got to be my flannel-pants-wearing, messy-haired, talks too much self and also watched my friends take care of and interact with the baby. I like when my weekend consists of new, old and in-between friends. In betweens are the ones I've known about a year but feel like I've known longer. You know who you are.
Now we're settling down into some bad and good TV and I'm bracing myself for my first Monday morning after a weekend. Here are a few cute pictures of Scarlet outside. I originally intended for this blog to be a photoessay of my life but I find my new pictures are mostly just of Scarlet and my words are more of everything else. I think I just have more to say than show right now. I do intend to show more pictures of the life I'm living but I often can't focus on both enjoying my surroundings and playing with the camera so if I have to choose just one, it's obviously enjoying. With Scarlet, it's different because she grows so fast that I feel the need to take multiple pictures. Stay tuned, as always. This blog will morph in ways even I can't predict.

The Weekend.

Here I am at the brink of the first weekend I've noticed in a long, long time. Usually all the days blend into the ones where the stores and streets are emptier and the ones where we have to wait to eat at a restaurant in town. I used to like the emptier days better. Now I suppose I like them all for what they are.

Scarlet has taken to calling me Mammy. I don't know where she comes up with this. We hear cries of "Mammy, Mammy" at the crack of dawn. Fun times.

I may not be posting a lot for a few days. I know you'll all miss my biting wit. Maybe I'll post some pictures. I've been busy working in the mornings and then spending my afternoons nonstop with Scarlet and sometimes my baby mama friends and their delightful offspring. We went for a wonderful walk in Look Park the other day and I had convinced myself I was in California for a good hour until I saw some ice on the pond. It was both warm and cool, the air was dry, the trees were tall. California right? I pushed Scarlet for her first baby swing experience and then I went on the adult (or bigger kid) swings with her strapped to my chest in the Ergo and she draped herself around me as we swung. (swinged?) It was an amazing moment in my life but when I got off the swing, I felt a little car-sick. What's with that? That would never have happened during my Swinging Champion youth.

Grandpa Larry had dinner with us last night and he got to experience the full range of growling and "mmmmmm" sounds that Scarlet makes as he fed her. Tomorrow Ama Peggy will spend a couple of hours with us and then three of my fun and very missed Jersey friends will spend the night. We have to show them a good time. Then on Sunday we will host a brunch for them and then Nana Karen (my mom) will come stay for 2-3 days. I am excited and not at all exhausted about the idea of so many visitors. My mom will hang with Scarlet while I'm at work and she won't have to share her with my dad and sister. Sorry guys - I miss you too! Mom, can you really handle hours upon days of that child? My parents live four hours away so when they see Scarlet, it's literally 24/7 Scarlet. They see her wake up, go to sleep, go from laughing to crying to laughing in 30 seconds, experience all her dirty diapers, they've seen her learn new tricks, they've seen me break down at the stress of motherhood and then pick myself right up again. It's been really interesting for us all. I am making a mental note to one day live four hours away from Scarlet and her kids. (if that's in the cards) That means close enough to not have to fly, but far enough to still have to stay overnight. You get the best of both worlds. I'm really excited to see my mom and it's really rewarding to see my mom see me be a mom. That belongs to a whole other post someday. I'm overwhelmed with emotion right now!

Thanks for reading, as always. I promise to spice things up soon.

Fun With Pictures

This is a new post I'm going to do periodically where I'll randomly select photographs from the giant directory of photos I have on my computer and then I'll tell the story behind the photo. Since my photos are all kept in one comprehensive place that has been building for 5-10 years, there will be a wide variety of time periods, subject matters, and stories. This will be good to shake things up and also will get the writing going when I'm not in the mood for a long and deep writing session, or whatever's on my mind is not fit for print. That's not to say I have anything to hide, because I don't. Ask me anything! It's just as Cassidy says, "You have to post things on the Internet with the knowledge that ANYONE can read them" That said, let's just do Fun With Pictures now!



Ah, here's a gem. This was a day or two after my high school graduation. I think the actual night of my high school graduation posed a no-brainer scheduling conflict for me: participate in "Project Graduation" with my graduating class and spend an overnight with them, or go see the X-Files movie on its opening night. Yeah...like I said it was a no brainer. Please note that this was when the X-Files was still good. If it were the more recent movie you might think that both choices sound like torture. Anyway, back to the story. My friend told us about some cool 80's party in another town so my my sister and her ex best friend and me got dressed to the nines in our awesome outfits. So there we were pumped, blasting 80's music and stopping at 7-11 to show off our costumes. We thought we were SO cool. We couldn't wait. We pulled up to the party and....um....we were the only ones dressed up. And what's worse - EVERYONE was staring at us and they were all from other schools and you know how big of a deal that was back then. I do remember shouting loudly to my friend, "Why didn't you tell me I'd be the only one looking like Debbie Gibson on acid?!?" I don't believe we stayed at that party long. And don't think we were embarrassed for an instant. On the contrary, we thought we were hotter and cooler than anyone there. I mean just look at my washboard abs in this picture. We went home and had our own 80's party and it was amazing.



This is a favorite of mine. It was the first successful picture I took with the lightscoop I got for Christmas. I needed to know that I could take pictures indoors and at night without direct flash and this was my proof. The hat was given to Scarlet in her Christmas stocking and I got bored of taking just diaper shots so I threw the hat on her to spice up the picture. She is a very patient model for her photo-flustered mama. One day I'll figure out how to use my camera properly.




This picture was a finalist and the eventual winner to be used on our pop-up wedding invitations. Our friend and neighbor Jono took this during a photo shoot in the Haight in San Francisco. I really can't remember what exactly we were going for here and I'm not sure we did then either, but what I do know is that we got what we were going for. I also know that of all of the things happening in the Haight at that time, no one even looked twice at our silly photo shoot because it was definitely not even in the top 25 most bizarre things happening. Probably not even the top 100. Or 1000.



Oh, the adrenaline rush. Sometimes as a photographer you encounter the kind of moment you have anxiety nightmares about - you see something so spectacular and so photo-worthy but your camera battery has died or your shutter button just won't click. This was not one of those moments. In fact, I've really barely had those moments, if ever. However if I had to pick one moment in my life for that not to happen, this would be in the top five. Some friends and I were in central Maine in a town where moose outnumber humans 3 to 1 and people don't have computers - but they do have weekly town hall line dances. We saw some cars stopped on the road and we pretty much knew it would equal a moose sighting. What we didn't know was that we were getting two added bonuses - newborn twin moose babies. The other cars had all driven away and this mama moose looked at me getting out of the car across the street from her. Then she looked at her babies. Then she looked back at me. Then she turned to the side and framed her face so that her babies were showing under her protective gaze. She waited one moment for me to take one picture and then we both walked away. I was using film back then and I was pretty much stalking Ritz Camera until they gave this photo back to me. I like it.



I took this of my friends in the Path station in Hoboken. One of those guys was nicknamed Worm, another was nicknamed Flip and I can't remember the third guy! All I know is that I was partying in NYC with three guys. Hey, go me. I used to have such game.

Sunny Days

I did not have a very good day today. In fact, it almost downright sucked. I was pulled out of sucktitude when I was re-united with Scarlet and we played a rocking game of peek-a-boo and imitate-everything-mommy-does. She can now say "Mama" and "Dada" and can shake her head when we do, nod her head when we do, squeal and sing in imitation of us, and she's just starting to wave a little. She also giggles, smiles, tumbles, goes "book shopping" by pulling out all of our magazines and books and eating them, and she plays a mean wooden spoon against a pot. She is so damn enjoyable I can't handle it. She also spends a great deal whining and crying but no need to discuss that!

My day also got a great deal better when Cassidy brought me my favorite cookies from Greggory's Pastry Shop in Hadley. Oh, and I got free hot buttered movie popcorn today too.

Scarlet and I spent a nice half hour or so in the sunshine:

Day Two

I felt a little queasy last night and early this morning. At first I didn't know why but it seemed to get worse when I thought about work.

It occurred to me that I'm nervous. And it's not because I didn't like my first day of work yesterday. It's because I did.

I get nervous when I know I can do something and I'm given a chance to do it but I have to wait until the next day to do it. I just get antsy for the night to pass and for me to be in there proving it. I haven't felt this way about a job in a couple of years and even then, it was my first time feeling it. Before that I hadn't felt this way since college when I was a nerd and I actually liked my classes and learning.

Thank God! What a blessing.

Some fun posts are brewing! Stay tuned.

What's In a Name?

When people ask me how we came up with Scarlet Bella's name I often hesitate because there's no one clear answer. It's like our "how we met" story, which is a story for another post. It's not easy to give all the reasons for her name, yet I don't want to give only part of the story either.
I don't know when I first thought of Scarlet as a name but I know it was somewhere around ten years ago and that once it came to be, it existed as if it's always been there. And maybe it has.
I believe that I have always known that I'd one day have a daughter. You know how when you're trying to remember or create something, like the name of a movie star or an idea for a blog entry, you can go through your daily life normally while your brain sub-consciously gets closer and closer to it and then...LIGHTBULB...the answer seems to come out of the blue? And you know it's not coming out of the blue and that your brain has been on auto-pilot all along, but it still feels sudden.
I think since I "knew" I was going to have a daughter, my brain was always searching for clues under the surface, getting closer and closer throughout most of my life until....LIGHTBULB....
"How about Scarlet?" I suggested one day. I can't remember when this was, whether it was by email when we still lived 3,000 miles apart or if it was when we were sitting together in our San Francisco apartment - I do know that Cassidy agreed to it as a top contender pretty fast. And I know this was before any talk of babies, or even a wedding. Even after we had discussed this name and held it secretly close to our hearts, this name that had followed me in my past and was circling us in our present, it was still to creep up in our future - actually right when Scarlet was conceived. So I'm going to give a list of a few of the ways in which "Scarlet" has played into our lives to give insight on how she was named:

- Me, my father, my dad, my sisters, my grandfather, and probably more family than I can remember have all gone to Rutgers University. Their mascot is the Scarlet Knight.

- When I was in fifth grade we did a unit on rain forests and I became OBSESSED with Scarlet Macaws. I think it was because they're rainbow colored and rainbows were one of my childhood obsessions. More on that when I discuss where we got her middle name, Bella, below.

- "Scarlet's Walk" is not my favorite Tori Amos album - nothing could replace "Under the Pink" for me - but it did heavily influence how I look at lyric writing, America and road trips.

- Different shades of reds have been my favorite colors for as long as I can remember, or since I outgrew the neon pink era. Red itself has never been my favorite color to wear because I think it makes me look pale whereas dark pinks and maroons are just right. I love reading the different red descriptions in catalogs like Victoria's Secret and Land's End. Of all of them, I most would want to buy a Scarlet-colored sweater.

- When Cassidy and I first got back together, we stayed with our friend Scarlett at Scarlet's Country Inn in Calistoga: http://scarlettscountryinn.com/.
The difference is that we chose to spell our Scarlet's name with one "T" but we do dream that our Scarlet will grow up to be as elegant, kind-hearted, dream-catching, timeless, and as wise as Calistoga's Scarlett.

- In our wedding vows, I vowed to explore the magical realm of the Grateful Dead for Cassidy. Before that vow, I really only knew "Touch of Grey." Pathetic. So a lot of my schooling happened six months into our marriage on our two and a half week road trip to move back East. We listened to the Dead something like 80% of that trip and they calmly sang us through one of the most harrowing moments of our lives - getting off of a giant mountain during a sudden blizzard in the Rockies. So you can see why I think their music has healing powers. "Scarlet Begonias" is a favorite song of ours.

As for her middle name, Bella, Well that one's easy. That was my grandmother's name. No Isabella - just Bella. She was magic. I could write on and on about her with tears streaming down my eyes but I think I'll just post the few paragraphs I wrote about her in the "We Remember..." dedication section of our wedding program:

When I think of Bella Klein, I always think of the phrase, "larger than life," because she lived life so big and true. There was not enough room in this world for her huge heart; as well as there is not enough room in this world for our pain at losing her. The quintessential perfect Jewish grandmother, she taught us how to dip bowls of ice cream into rainbow sprinkles and how to be properly tucked into bed at night. This involved yelling "Alley-oop!" and throwing blankets well over our heads as we shrieked with laughter.
I went to college quite close to her home and when I first started as a freshman, I was so nervous that my throat closed and her magical salad was the only food I could get down. I wish I had known then that my time with Grandma Bella was limited because I would have screamed to the sky and been around her 24/7 just to say, "I LOVE YOU" a thousand times. It would never have been enough. Luckily those were my last words to her anyway, thought I didn't know at the time that they would be. Her funeral was on a clear, dry day in December. We were all dying a little that day...until someone said, "Look up in the sky" and brought the ceremony to a standstill. I'm no scientist but vivid, full rainbows with arcs do not appear on clear, dry, wintery days yet there were two in the sky directly above our group. We all became believers of magic that day. However to know Bella alive was to be a believer anyway.

Oh! And...

I won my second just-for-fun photo contest. I belong to a photography message board and we do weekly photo contests. There's a moderator who picks the topics and counts the votes. There are about 900 members of this message board and many of them are professional photographers. Many of them are truly gifted with the camera. I was happy last week to just get a few votes but this most recent contest was so close I was one of two up for a tie-breaker re-vote. I won by just a few votes in the end. The topic was "Candid Emotion." I like money and all but people aren't wrong when they say that the satisfaction of having won is reward enough.

I present to you the winning photo:

Things I Forgot About

So this morning I was calmly feeding Scarlet in my glider (fancy rocking chair for those who don't have kids) and all of a sudden I jumped up in a panic, startling her in the process. "It's Monday! I overslept! Oh man! It's my first day and I screwed up already!"

Then it hit me that it was Sunday.

I forgot that stuff like that can happen. Eight months of it not really mattering what time I go to bed can really spoil a girl. Granted, I still fall asleep fairly early every night but when I actually have something to wake up to, I don't usually sleep as easily. I've been looking at this picture all morning to make me smile. I'll probably have it up at work every day too:



There.

Doesn't that just give you a goofy grin?

Old Dreams

To keep up with the dreams theme of the previous entry, I just wanted to post two writings I did many years ago:

1. This poem is from 1993. My 8th grade Literature teacher asked us to rewrite Langston Hughes' "A Dream Deferred." I find it to be a very interesting window into my 13-year-old self's mind:

The Lost Dream

The lost dreams sits in the shadowy corners of the mind
waiting hopefully to be remembered
hoping it won't be swept away and digested in the brain
eagerly waiting to be revived
Where does a lost dream go?
Does it scurry away like a scared mouse or shrivel
like a snail?
Does it melt away like an ice cube,
or burst like a bubble?
Would it burn into ashes like leaves in the fire
or turn frozen from the cold and never change back?
Do lost dreams blow away like leaves in the Fall
or evaporate into the air and come back
as different dreams?
Will it escape to the mountains and stay away
for a long while
for to only come back if remembered?
Does it fade away slowly like a rainbow
or disappear like a ghost in the dark night?
Will it go above the horizon
to explore the world above
or shoot up to the sky to become a twinkling star?
Will it become a lost cause or ancient memory
or just become a nothing?
Or will it fly to be free and travel to
other people's minds?
The lost dream runs away thinking no one cares.
It runs and runs never to stop.
It will often feel alone and easy,
but it knows it must never come back.

By Tammy Klein


2. This next writing is from 2003, ten years later. I was emailing with my good friend April about flying dreams. This is about the kind of dreams you have at night or when asleep. My previous post reminded me to find it in my email archives. I find it to be an interesting window into my 23-year-old self's mind. Excuse the rambling, not properly punctuated quality of this:


"I think it is all highly symbolic. And yes, you're right about everyone's flying dreams being different..and it all probably relates to their inner fears or struggles. Some soar and some flap, some fly high and for long periods of time, and some are only granted the frustration of short, low to the ground lapses of flight. I myself was obsessed with flying my whole life - to the actual point where I didn't bother to think that there was a chance I'd grow up and still be ground-bound. But I did grow up, and I still believe. :-)
For real though, as a child I used to put on my Supergirl pajamas, tie my Superman beach towel around my neck like a cape, and fly off the bunk beds. "THUD! THUD!" That hopefully wasn't the sound of "Tammy's Childhood" ringing in my parent's ears because I tried to do it when they weren't around. I think when we finally got carpeting, they must have been relieved they didn't have to explain to guests about the sound of human body striking hardwood floor day in and day out. My flying dreams were often a bit frustrating. I'd be making my way up into the air and trying so hard, but still couldn't do it freely or at full will. It was just a chance blessing in spurts. And this might have been symbolic of frustration or fear of failure, never reaching for things I know I can do. In my last major lucid dream, after I had already visited my Appalachian Trail-bound ex-boyfriend and told him to call me in real life (he did), screamed at my dad all my frustrations about my real father dying and him not measuring up, watched dolphins soar through a blue shining sea, jumped off of a cruise ship and onto a deserted island, and seduced probably 18 people, I tried to fly up city-like streets. And unlike my childhood dreams, I went up and up as passersby watched. This time I flew high and at full will and no one seemed impressed. I guess the symbolism shifted from my old childhood fear of failure and never actually attempting things, into actually reaching for those dreams and being afraid no one would notice."

These Dreams

Dear Reader,

Have you ever had, or should I say - made, a life dream come true?
I have.

Most dreams don't fall right into your lap, although I'm sure many lottery winners out there might say otherwise. When I was younger I thought things would just happen for me because of who I am. It was that powerful rush of invincibility, hormones and emotions that I now know many young people feel. Now I'd say I'm 75/25. 75% of me knows you mostly have to work hard to achieve your dreams. 25% of me still thinks things might fall into my lap because of my awesome "me-ness." However, making my own reality has been highly rewarding, I've found.

The thing about achieving life dreams that has me lying awake in bed right now mulling it over is that they never for me feel the way I think they will when they actually happen. And sometimes I only ever realize they're happening halfway through or even AFTER they have happened. This is crazy to me. I've been analyzing the disconnect between how I dream a dream will feel and how a dream really feels. I've got a few simple answers.
In real life, you hear no violins and cellos when you're fulfilling a dream. You (mostly) see no sky writing. I'm not exactly Captain Obvious so wouldn't it be cool to hear your own epic movie score at just the right time? (I need to see if this can be arranged for a small fee.)
In real life you might have a tummy ache. You might be having a bad hair day because your house lost power the morning of the day your dream was to be fulfilled and you had to curl your bangs in the dark. You might have a glaring pimple. On the eve of one of your dream fulfillment days you might be so nervous you're sick and shaking on your friend's couch at 5 am. You might be alone. You might be with people but feel alone. You might cry. You might be too busy mourning the loss of the old pre-dream-fulfilled-you that you're not enjoying the new-post-dream-fulfilled-you that's emerging from your shell as your dream comes true. You might sit alone at your own wedding and wonder why in God's name you're not dancing and enjoying yourself the way you always thought you would. You might be scared out of your freaking mind. That doesn't mean it didn't happen. That doesn't mean other people didn't feel it happen. That doesn't mean you didn't.
Even if you work hard at your dreams you win some, you lose some. Old dreams, not to be confused with deferred dreams, can fade away and new ones can always be born. In retrospect, my childhood dreams weren't very well thought out. I'm actually glad I'm not living in LA and juggling a modeling, acting, singing, dancing, piano playing, filmmaking career while also touring the world as a Global Garbage Woman. I'm glad I'm not dating both John Stamos and Dave Coulier at the same time. Umm...very glad.

Lately I've felt at peace with a lot of how my life turned out. There's still room for improvement, though. Lots of room.

That said, I think I'll take out my dream checklist and cross a few things off my list:

- Live in California - Check.
- Live in New England - Check.
- Drive cross country - West to East - Check.
- Give birth and (mostly) know how cool and powerful I am while doing so - Check.
- Own northern dogs - Check.
- Have a daughter - Check.
- Fall in love in a magical, unconventional way, have people still believe in the power of your love even while all seems lost, and then reunite and get married in a huge, powerful, spiritual, meaningful ceremony on a mountaintop - Check, Check, Check.

Then I'll create a new dream checklist and label it "In Process." I'll add:

- Be a photographer
- Be a writer
- Be the best mom I can be

Lastly, I'll leave lots of room to add new dreams as the years go by. I'll write them under the label "To Be Completed" and fill them in under:

- Drive cross country (East to West)
- Own a house on both coasts
- Learn to fly (yeah...can't seem to give this impossible one up)
- Meet Tim Curry (yes, still...I waited for him after Spamalot on Broadway but he never showed)

The Job.

So I've decided to take the job I was offered. And now I'm scared. But not too scared. I wasn't even expecting to be contacted for an interview, much less to be offered a job. I only had two days to prepare for the interview but it was during a week when I felt powerful and creative. I had just created this blog after many hours and days of putting it together, and I was seeing old and new friends daily. I was exhausted and substitute teaching the day of the interview yet I knew I'd probably still come across well. It was that kind of week, after all.
Mainly though, I had nothing much to lose if I botched the interview. As I said above, I hadn't been expecting any of this and I hadn't been looking for it either. I figured if I ruined the interview, I could just go back to my happy life.
Now it's not so simple. Now that I have a job if I start the job and then fail I have more to lose now. My self esteem is on the line here. This time it's personal.

Oh and I'm not trying to be mysterious at all (see previous post). The job is for Amherst Cinema.
Who doesn't like movies? I like movies. Everyone likes movies! Worlds...no...galaxies better than software and hardware.

A Purging.

This post is a window into my neurotic soul.
Look at me here. Don't I look all mysterious?


(photo by Dan Shapiro)

...I'm not. Or at least I used to be but it's been fading for a long time. I think that happens after marriage and this:



By the way, I'm writing this in my Target lawn chair with the sun on my face and a mug of toasted coconut cream coffee in hand. It's glorious. It's the perfect setting to detail my strange behavior in semi-list form:

- Today I made a deluxe salad at Stop & Shop and I cut it into teeny tiny pieces. Then I decided it still wasn't right and I cut it into teeny tiny teeny tiny pieces. Then I ate it and it was glorious. (that word again) I often do this with salads. And pasta. And chicken. And steak. Why? Mainly it's because I developed a nervous stomach when I was about 16. It happened during a period of great change and for about two weeks, I was ailing and then growing and healing. Since this period of great change and ailing and then growing and healing brought about a queasy stomach, I had to take small bites of food just to be able to eat. This habit stayed.
I also don't like attacking big bites of food because of the mess factor. I have never ordered a burger on a date, for example. I don't like food in my teeth and I like how small bites go cleanly in my mouth and I don't have to continuously reapply my lip gloss or chapstick...

- ...Which brings me to the fact that I have a neurotic habit of licking off my lip gloss and then reapplying it. All day long.

- While we're still somewhat on the subject of eating, I have a strange way of eating Peanut Butter M&Ms. First I determine if they're fresh by lightly cracking into the chocolate shell with my teeth. If the center peanut butter is crumbly or broken, the bag is not fresh and I won't eat it. If the chocolate layer reveals a smooth and unblemished peanut butter orb, it's a go and I'll eat off the shells of three or four M&Ms, stack the perfect peanut butter orbs together and then pop the peanut butter stack in my mouth. I repeat this until the bag is finished.

- I also monitor the DVR like a hawk because our HD shows take up a lot of memory and I NEED all of my shows to tape. I think I drive Cassidy crazy with this.

- I get very upset if I'm missing one of Scarlet's widdle, itty bitty baby socks. Her Trumpettes, Hello Kitty and moose socks are subject to thorough house cleanings if one or both are missing. I have only lost one baby sock to this date and it still bugs me. Mom, a light blue snowman sock from dear Aunt Lindsay is still missing in your home!

- I need to be the one to wash and tame Scarlet's hair if photos are to be taken or people are to be seen that day. Cassidy has gotten good with her hair but I'm great.

- When I fly, I need to have a bag full of comfort items - crossword puzzles, sudoku, books, trashy magazines, my journal, photos, snacks, music, various over the counter medications, etc. Of all of that, I will only ever touch the iPod and occasionally a snack.

- I bought anti-nausea wristbands when I was pregnant. I didn't get any morning sickness and I don't generally get motion sickness. Yet I still keep the wristbands in my purse "just in case." They go great in my fear of flying back of tricks, see above.

- Due to a hearty blend of neurosis, fear and stubbornness, I can't, won't or haven't in over 20 years done any of the following things:

Gotten a Strep throat culture
Blown up a balloon
Vomited
Ridden a roller coaster
Been drunk
Tried a recreational drug
Gone skiing
Dived into water

- I read in the bathroom but not while doing what other people who read in the bathroom are doing. I read while flossing, brushing my teeth, washing my face (this one's hard) and taking a bath. Once I tried to read in the shower but it didn't go well.

- When I'm nervous or anxious I tie my hair back and then take it out of the elastic. And then tie it back and take it down. And so forth. I also put my hand shallowly down the front waistband of my pants Al Bundy style. If you see me doing these things, kindly take me outside to talk or just gently shake me back to sanity.

- Sometimes I throw away the receipt right after buying something so if I get buyer's remorse (which has actually never happened) I can't do anything about it. This proved to be a problem at Costco where you have to show your receipt at the exit and I had tossed mine. Sorry about that one, Cassidy.

- Here's a good last one. I haven't had a pimple in almost two years but since I had acne ONCE, I think I have it always. I find myself nodding along with acne infomercials and nearly reaching for my phone and wallet.

The rest of my dirty secrets are just too dirty or too secret for blogs. I stop here.


There you have me. Or is it...
There, you have me.

Musings.

I got a preliminary job offer this morning, and it's set forth a whirlwind of voices in my head, speaking with and at each other. Now everything I experience today relates to this giant glaring job offer that took residence in my mind and won't leave until I make a decision. The voices say things like this:

The sun is out! "If I start work, I'll miss these sunny days." I have to return two library books. "If I start work, I won't be able to return library books anytime I want." This book is so good. "If I start work, when will I have time to read?" This egg sandwich is so good. "If I start work, I'll be eating crappy nutri-grain bars on the run." And so on.
I'm not letting myself enjoy just being flattered by this experience. When I stop to think about the good....well, it's really good. It's a great job for a great company. It's working in a field I have been interested in since I was born, practically. If they posted this job on craigslist, they'd get 80 - 100 applications instantly.
It's not software. (thank god) It's not even hardware. Then the voices argue back. "It's also not an amazing Inn in San Francisco and it's not owning your own photography studio either." It's not Scarlet.
Scarlet has been my constant for eight months now. Eight long good months. Yet when I really stop to think about this, when you factor in that she sleeps in until 9 or 10 and that she takes a late morning nap, I'd really only be missing maybe two hours with her a day. Two hours that I need! Two hours of nice space that will not break our bond at all. And yet I look at her lopsided grin and deep soulful eyes. "Will I miss even a second of her growth and development? It's been a good run so far. Such a good run."
Then I'm in the shower, letting the benefits of having a job run over me. Contributing financially to my family, my future, my long lost shoe obsession. Using my brain. Getting out in the world. Re-entering a career field I never should have given up and I'll never tire of. Trying new things. A small but powerful voice repeats in my head. "I can't, I can't, I can't." Confidence issues! Hello, old friend. No. Not this time. I'm different now. "I can do this."

And it might be great. But, I'll miss this.

Her future's so bright...

That is all.

Last Night.

My good friend Holly and I enjoyed a fabulous dinner at Ruth and Ernie's in Conway and then we saw Dion Roy and Peter Roessler play a show at Mocha Maya's in Shelburne Falls. It was a wonderful show. We finished up the night at a wild after-party at Pixie and John's farm with popcorn, beer and wine, and some extreme slap-happy behavior. I think this often and I'll say it again: our parent's generation really knows how to party. My own parents still party like they did thirty years ago.

More on Dion Roy at http://dionroy.com. He's been a good friend of mine for over ten years but I'm not biased. I love his music and I can get lost in it. He's also good with kids, as you can see below, and he has Han Solo's hands wrapped around his neck:



We used to date once. For like a week. It was good.

Dual Stories

I woke up today feeling SO good. I saw my old friend, the sun, and then noted that today is the best I've felt in over two weeks. I got two back to back terrible viruses. First it seems I had RSV at the same time as Scarlet. We'd spend our days coughing violently together. Then as she mended quickly, I went right into a throat virus that looks and feels like Strep but can't be cured with antibiotics.

Yesterday I watched "The Lion King" in Spanish. Twice. I got pretty sick of having to fight tears when Mufasa dies. I refuse to be remembered as the crazy substitute teacher who cries at Disney movies at school. I'd rather be known as the sub who accidentally laughed when a kid used a swear word to tell me a story and then let them wear their iPods while doing work since it was freaking 1:45 pm on a Friday afternoon and music helps the creative process.

I've been thinking a lot about the mind/body connection in the last couple days. Throughout life, I've felt that my mind and body are in harmony nearly all of the time. If my mind is in a good place, my body is too. I've been prone to stomach-gets-the-brunt-of-it anxiety a handful of times in childhood and a massive amount of times in adulthood. There's always a reason for it that can be traced and often fixed. The other night I lay in bed astounded by the idea that my mind and body had had very different days. Mentally and emotionally, I was so happy! I had started a blog. I saw many friends and felt so good about both new and old friendships. I had been taking many pictures and liking them. My family was all healthy after getting through three or four people viruses and the dog being near fatally ill. And yet, as I went to bed to let all of these good feelings wash over me, I had one of the worst sore throats I've ever had. It was like a knife and glass and gravel were all hanging out in my throat. I couldn't believe I could feel so good one way and so bad in another. It got me thinking about how I often remember Scarlet's birth story in two pieces - the story my body went through and the story my mind went through. Still thinking about all of this and if I should share...maybe I'll write about it later.

Back to the happiness of the last two days, I entered an old photo I took in San Diego in a just for fun contest. It didn't win and I didn't expect it to. It did get several votes, though, and that was all I wanted:




I like to remember how relaxing that sunset was. Just the sun, the sand, the happiest dogs I've ever seen, and the only concern in my mind being where to go for dinner later.

Crack of Dawn

Good morning. I have to substitute teach today and then I have an interview and then a potential girls' night out. I have a bigger post brewing in my head. I just wanted to share a photo this morning. Does this look like teething to anyone?

The Five Best HappyMakings of Today

These are not numbered in any particular order.


1. The cuteness that is my family:



2. When I got into the car this afternoon, "Don't Stop Believing" by Journey came on the radio the second I buckled my seatbelt. I looked in the rear view mirror and even Scarlet had the sense to grin and bop her head. I've been a lifelong believer in the radio Gods but I can go through years where I forget what it's like to believe in them. I used to hear "Don't Stop Believing" at just the right time when I needed to feel better. The song may be a little corny but you can't deny that you too would probably leave the radio dial alone and sing along in the car if it came on.

3. I totally overheard Grandpa Larry say to Scarlet, "YOU...are a very nice young woman."

4. I often say that as much as I'd like it to be true, I don't believe that a near 8-month-old baby knows words yet. I may have to throw that out the window. She was on Grandpa's lap and she looked at Cassidy and he said, "Scarlet - say Dada." Without missing a beat, she said "Dada" in the clearest voice I've ever heard her use. The timing and execution were just too right - I might be a believer now.

5. My friends. Wow. From seeing so many amazing people today, to getting girl scout cookies and a heartfelt card in the mail from an old friend, to connecting deeply with a new friend on email (you know who you are, I hope)...I just felt so grateful today. I have to finish this up with a shout out to my "cosmic" friend Rachel. Not only did we both go from the east coast to the Bay area back to the east coast again. Not only do we both have a major appreciation for the chocolates, cookies and cakes of the world. Today we discovered that we both have Tim Curry albums somewhere on cassette tape or vinyl. Yup. I thought no one else out there even knew he recorded albums. We were in a restaurant that Susan Sarandon frequents so the conversation naturally turned to "Rocky Horror" and to the sexiness that is (was) Tim Curry. That little snippet of a conversation has put a smile on my face all day. Thank you, Rachel. You rock.

Hello.

I admit it - I've been a blog stalker for years. The source of the original blogs I stalked were LiveJournal friends and then friends of friends of friends. Another writer might comment on a journal I was currently reading, and then I'd latch desperately onto their life as well. And this went on. You see, I had some boring work days (and weeks and months - hi, SHI!) to get through and when I found a "blog treasure" - one was that was started years earlier and still going strong - I could read back and see how the authors' lives changed. If these unknowing people added photos to the mix, what an added bonus! I especially loved blogs written by people in their 20's and 30's because I got to see how the pressures of the times played out - college dating and hooking up, graduation, a very bad job market, post-college dating and hooking up, late night drunken blog posts, weddings, wedding dating and hooking up, babies, and so much more. My biggest issue with blog stalking was that a lot of blogs start in the middle and don't clarify much after. I was a lurker and a stranger and when authors comfortably name dropped or talked about the weather where they were, I still didn't know who they were talking about or where they lived. I don't want that kind of blog. I can only hope that one day I too will have lurkers. And if so, lurkers, this is for you:

My name is Tamara. I'm 29. I was born and raised in New Jersey in a blended Brady Bunch family of five kids and I escaped to San Francisco (for a guy!) in 2007 and I have never looked back...on New Jersey. I often look back at my family:



Apparently that leap of faith was a good thing and I wound up marrying my long distance lover, Cassidy. I will write a whole other post sometime detailing our long and magical "how we met" story. This is us at our wedding, me watching on as Cassidy breaks the glass, Jewish wedding style:



We had a crazy life in San Francisco surrounded by fog, amazing energy bills, and a slew of drugs I'd never even heard of. However, the east coast seemed to be calling us back so we packed up our lives and our then 13-year-old husky, Stormy:



and had a fun-filled 2 1/2 week cross country move in our Toyota Camry. After a very rough start on the right coast, we wound up in an awesome pop culture museum of a home in Northampton, MA. Soon after we moved, we learned we had brought home a souvenir from our long trip - she was born July 9, 2009 and we've been enamored ever since.

Scarlet Bella: