Happy Birthday, Dad

My father would have been 69 today.

It feels weird to type that. He's been gone eight and a half years already, though it doesn't seem like that long.

We didn't always get along. In fact, we didn't really get along at all until I turned 21 and graduated from college. But when that happened, it was like a switch was flipped somewhere in the universe. For almost eight years after, we had that perfect kind of golden father-daughter relationship that the Lifetime Network loves.

He was a strong presence. One of those people who took over wherever he was--from the marina docks to the boardroom--without trying to at all. It just happened. His viewing was packed. You almost couldn't walk across the room, it was so crowded. People came out of the woodwork. And almost no one knew he'd been sick; his death was sudden to them. So it was shocking for my mother and my brother and me to see what seemed like half of Baltimore crammed into a funeral home parlor to say goodbye.

He had three passions: our dogs, his business, and his boat. The last dog died about three years before he did. The business was packed up in boxes and eventually shredded. And the boat was sold a few months after he died, but not before someone raided it and made off with the GPS, radar, and (inexplicably) a little lighthouse sculpture, which was the only thing my mom wanted from their floating weekend home.

Knowing my father, he's CEO of the afterlife by now. And he has that 50-foot Hatteras he always dreamed of outside his back door and a yard full of labrador retrievers.

At least, that's how I like to picture him.

Happy birthday, Dad. I love you.

Opinions

I read this article the other day and cannot get it out of my head. It's bugging me like a flock o' gnats in July.

The article is here. I know what I think...but what do you all think? I'd love to hear.

Easy Peasy!

Good morning, thank you for calling L.L. Bean. This is Brenda. How may I help you?

Hi Brenda. I have a question. I placed an order online on Wednesday, and this morning, I got an email saying you're offering free shipping. Is there any way we can make that offer retroactive?

If you'll hold on just a minute, I'll see what we can do about that. Is this Kim *****? (she pulled up my name and order number from her caller ID)

Yes, it is. Thanks.

wait...about five seconds. Literally.

Mrs. *? We've taken care of that for you. So there will be no shipping charge on your order. Is there anything else I can help you with today?

That should do it. Thanks so much.

Thank you for shopping with L.L. Bean. You have a great day!


And THAT, my friends, is how you make a lifetime customer. For all of $8.

My Achin'...

I have a confession to make. A wrong that needs to be righted. A terrible belief of mine that's been proven horribly incorrect, and I feel so badly that I need to tell you all.

I always thought yoga was a crock.

I mean, give me a break. You sit and roll and pose and chant. How on earth could that be fitness?

Um. As my dear mother would say, don't knock it 'til you've tried it.

I've been exploring my workout video options lately--weird school schedules and work schedules and sick kids and such are making it difficult for me to get to the gym as often as I'd like (and it's seriously two blocks from my house...pathetic). I've done the Leslie Sansone, the Shape and Self, the Crunch and Firm, the Tae Bo, the Windsor, the Denise Austin (she rocks by the way, annoyingly chipper or not). Been there, done that. *yawn*

The other night, I saw a neighbor for the first time in a bit. And she looks fantastic. When I asked her what she was doing, she said yoga. Sha right, said I, what are you really doing? Yoga. Twice a week. Period.

So what the heck, let's give yoga a try. I got a video, popped it in, and started with the prayer pose, trying not to giggle and trying really really hard to get my "Eat, Pray, Love" on and actually center myself.

Half an hour later, my body ached. My forehead and back of my neck were drenched. And--shockingly--I was feeling way peaceful, way centered.

Well whaddayaknow?!

As of today, I'm addicted. I'm specifically addicted to this series of videos, which are short (half hour for the most part) and upbeat and fun and don't require any special equipment or props. I've collected five of them so far and ordered another three today. And honest to God, this conservative Republican Catholic is finding that starting my morning with one of these DVDs (after coffee, of course) is really a wonderful way to kick off the day. I hurt--everywhere--but it's a good, healthy kind of hurt. The kind that just feels good, you know?

Thought I'd spread the word. I apologize for anyone I've snickered at in the past for this. This is a real workout and a very good thing.

I'm off to find more...

Rock on...

A 35-year-old friend of mine was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer eight months ago. Amazingly, she's doing great with treatment and attitude and has no intention of giving up.

She emailed me the other day about a walk she's doing to raise money for PC research. The walk's in two weeks in Baltimore. I had nothing going on that day that couldn't be shifted, so I signed up to walk with her. Set up my fundraising website and sent emails out to most of my (personal) address book about it.

72 hours later, I've raised $500 for the walk, and our team is the top one for fundraising for the whole event! YAY US!! And YAY to my friends who've donated--THANK YOU GUYS!!! ***SMOOCH***

(if you want to find out more or donate and help a girl out, email me thru my profile and I'll send you the link to the site.)

Best Hair Stuff Ever

Sorry to have been gone for a few days and to re-join you with such a lame post. We had a long night last night and I'm wiped out. So this is as good as it gets this morning.

Got my hair cut Saturday--new style. And the hair lady asks me if I use hair spray. Why, yes. So she says, "Try this. It holds your style and gets rid of frizz, but lets your hair move."

Sha, right. Heard it before. But you know what? She was *right*. Three drops in my dry hair and it's magic. Magic. I am in love. Sunday found me at Ulta buying a container and chucking my can o' hair glue.

So that's my wisdom for the day. Hair magic in a little squeezy bottle. I'll have something more profound tomorrow.

Nummy

I got nothin' of substance to say today, so let's talk about my dinner.

A friend of mine had a baby a few weeks ago and I took her dinner the other night--remember my catastrophe/shooting star story? And ever since, I've been thinking about how good it smelled despite being literally tossed together from my pantry and freezer. So today, I made it again and we'll eat it tonight.

I thawed a pound of large (41-50) cooked, tail-on shrimp and hacked the tails off (sorry, shrimp). Then I minced up three cloves of garlic and put some whole-grain spaghetti on to boil.

Once the spaghetti was in, I covered the bottom of my favorite skillet (Calphalon rocks, my friends) with extra-virgin olive oil and heated it up on medium. Tossed the garlic in and let it swim around until it started talking to me, and then stirred in a can of diced tomatoes (drained), a pinch of red pepper flakes, and a scant palmful of Italian Seasoning.

I let that very gently simmer (don't burn the garlic!) while the noodles cooked, and then drained them. Stirred the shrimp into the sauce, let them get nice and warm, and tossed the spaghetti in there. And then I stirred in a handful of shredded Parmesan.

We'll steam up some broccoli and have ourselves a little, very easy, very yummy feast tonight. I cannot wait!