"Giving the Baby Back" will, indeed, take more than six words to explain

Yesterday I (briefly) met Piper Kerman. She wrote "Orange is the New Black" and she and her husband spoke at Camp Mighty.

Camp Mighty is a weekend workshop I have attended each fall for the past three years. The event includes speakers, activities, smaller sessions, and a lot of conversation about how to live your best life. Setting goals, appreciating your current situation, learning from past decisions, etc. Your ticket also includes meals and evening cocktails, so I look at it as an all-inclusive weekend away to sit in the hot tub, clear my head and figure out what I'm going to do next. 

The very first year I went to Camp Mighty (which was also the first year it took place) I decided to write a book.

Writing a book is scary. Writing a book is also really fucking hard sometimes. You are going to work on something, for a pretty long time, and then hope that people will buy it - and enjoy reading it. The stress can be palpable, and it is very easy to procrastinate or tell yourself it sucks and start over. Over and over again.

All  of this is to explain  why it took two years for me to actually finish the book. But I did, I finished it. 

The book - my book - is called "Giving the Baby Back" and it is about all of the babies, the ones I have written about here, and the babies that I have never mentioned before, to anyone. My mom learned some new stuff when she read it. It's very personal, and I am really glad it's done, mostly because revisiting some parts of my life - however briefly - was a very difficult process. 

So here I am at Camp, feeling triumphant: I set a goal, I was supported throughout the process by my friends, family and yes - my fellow campers, the book is done, and now I am back in Palm Springs, sitting in the hot tub thinking about what I should do next. And yesterday, I got to listen to Anna Dorfman and Piper Kerman and her husband Larry Smith speak about their lives and their work. I was really interested in hearing what they had to say. Anna talked about loving her job and being content and satisfied with the life she has created. Piper talked about creating community and supporting each other in life - even when that life is being lived in jail. Larry is working on a project called "Six Word Memoir" and asked each of us to come up with our own. As a person who can appreciate brevity but has never accomplished it successfully myownself, I decided to give it a shot. I am a dork who likes writing exercises, pina coladas, and getting caught in the rain. What can I tell you.

So I put up my own submission, via twitter: "Couldn't have baby, raising someone else's" Then I did the usual hash tag stuff that one does on the twitter. #campmighty #sixwordmemoir #givingthebabyback and I got on with my day.

During the afternoon, someone casually mentioned that a website was making snarky comments about Camp. "Whatever," I thought to myself. "I'm on vacation. Some people like to vacation by going to a city, or a jungle, or a beach. I like to lie in a pool in the middle of the desert, occasionally drying off to eat food or listen to someone tell their story. I am having fun, telling people about the book this event encouraged me to write, and getting a lot of sleep, by myself, in a king-sized bed. I give not a single fuck."

And then I got a text that said "you were just quoted in this article" with a link to a piece about Camp Mighty. It was those people, with the snark.

They quoted my tweet, and then said something like "Giving the baby back? That requires more than six words." I closed the site and went back to sleep.

Damn Straight it took more than six words. Sixty Thousand of 'em, actually.

I wrote a book. You will find a few things to laugh at in there, and some stuff that will make you uncomfortable. You might cry. I hope you like it, and if it's not your cup of tea I can totally respect that.

You can buy the book at www.givingthebabyback.com

You can look at a preview before you buy it on Amazon.

And soon, you will be able to read it in your library or buy it in a bookstore. I'm working on that. Self-publishing is teaching me a lot about humility and rejection. And so is the internet. Because who doesn't need more of that in their lives.

I'm going to eat breakfast and go sit in the hot tub now. Next year you should come too. It's nice here, and I feel happy and content. The internet is a big place, but an event like this makes it feel much smaller.

Snark all you want, I'm having a nice little Saturday.

A Mighty Good Time - with the photos to prove it #CampMighty FTW

Last year, I gathered up all of my courage, bought a ticket for Sarah so I couldn't back out at the last minute, and went to Camp Mighty. When I arrived, I was anxious and awkward and overwhelmed - and when I left, I was a strange mix of inspired and depressed. I felt as though I was so far from where I actually wanted to be in my life, that meeting any goals at all was just...impossible.

And then I put on my big girl panties, and decided to just go for it. Sarah was equally inspired. 

You guys? We totally did stuff this year. We changed our lives. And we did it because we made those life lists, and then went to Camp Mighty and told everyone about them. There was no avoiding it after that. 

Onward and upward.

When the passes went on sale for this year's Camp Mighty, I grabbed that brass ring. I was going back for more. Sarah got the same email and sent me a text: "Camp Mighty?" She was right there with me. We're a team, after all. And we still had plenty of living left on our life lists.

Thursday morning dawned (sort of) through the LA smog, and we picked up Dana and Amber and made our way (with plenty of pit stops) to Palm Springs. When we got there, it was........magical.

There were old friends, new friends, and the hot tub glowing in the darkness, steam rising up to the stars.

I fell into bed that night (and each night thereafter) pickled in every way. It was just lovely. We talked, we joked, we drank, we floated.

And then each morning, we got up to face the Great Big World out there.

There was even a rainbow to greet me my first day. Just like home.

But it wasn't all hot tubs and rainbows and pretty vistas. There was work to do. And inspiring people sharing their stories to make all of that work seem totally manageable.

I learned about seeing a need, and meeting it.

I learned about setting a goal, and reaching it.

I learned about making things and doing things.

I learned about being the best I can be, and letting everything else go.

I learned about being perfectly imperfect.

I learned not to be scared. Not to give up. 

People said things I really needed to hear. And I was grateful.

And there were presents.

And there were parties

And mornings after parties.

It went too fast, and it felt as though we had to say goodbye far too soon.

But I carry Camp Mighty with me all year long. My top 5 is right here in my wallet:

So I knew when I left I wasn't really saying "Goodbye". I'm just saying "See you later!"

Dispatch from Camp Mighty: You. Are. Here.

I am sitting in my hotel room. Lying down, actually, with the red lights on so my roommates can sleep. As I type, I'm simultaneously worried that the sound of my fingers on the keyboard are keeping people up, and also having serious flashbacks of being in the photo lab in high school. All I need is some Nine Inch Nails blaring and a cigarette - two things that can be easily remedied  at the Ace Hotel and Swim Club.

I am so content right now. And honestly, saying that is just the best thing ever. I spend too much time wishing for more, striving and reaching and worrying and being so damn hard on myself or disappointed in myself........ it is nice - BEYOND nice - to be content.

Being here at Camp Mighty the second time around is a different experience. The program is slightly different and there are some new faces, but the biggest difference is that I am not terrified and feeling like a total outsider. Oh, don't worry - I have still geeked out (sorry Jenny Lawson), and put my foot in my mouth (repeatedly), and felt plenty awkward (true story: the seating poofs by the pool are not easy to navigate in a skirt and heels while balancing a plate of food) and I am sure people are secretly wishing I'd stop hugging them (I did remember not to hug people in the bathroom, so that's progress) and I only flashed someone once. Okay twice. Maybe three times, but it was for a photo. And yes, somehow my cleavage did end up on twitter but that was not my fault.

The bottom line is that, even with all of my usual awkward fuck-ups, I am also feeling totally relaxed.
I have spent some serious quality time in the hot tub.
I took a nap.
I made friends with a staffer who happily hooked me up with sausages and tea this morning when I couldn't find either at breakfast. (Becky you are my hero)
I talked to strangers.
And I have taken a few pictures here and there - I'll try to post them on my twitter @daffodilblog

The thing that I love the most about this event is that everyone looks so damn fabulous. People have broken out their cutest shoes, they have on adorable brooches and brightly colored corduroys and sweaters with appliques and it's a total joy to be around a group who have such eclectic and diverse styles. It definitely inspires and allows for a lot of self-expression. I almost tackled a woman today who was wearing the cutest dress ever. It had a cowl neck, which doubled as a hoodie, plus she got it on sale. I wanted to give her a high five and we agreed that the only way that dress could be better, would be if it had pockets.

(All dresses should have pockets. If you are a designer, you should forget about putting a bird on it, and put some damn pockets on it instead. Pockets for everyone!)

What it all boils down to is, I am glad to be here. I am lucky to be here. I am grateful to be here.

I think this sums up Camp Mighty for me the most:

I am in the middle of my life, and I am looking for the big red circle that says "You Are Here"

Here I am. Where do I go? Well for starters, tomorrow I am going to meet a whole group of people I don't know yet, and review our life lists. I can't hardly wait. It feels so good to feel so good.

Life list. Refined.

Oh, life list. How's it hanging? I hate that "updating my life list" somehow found itself on my To Do list for today. But, there it is. I leave for Camp Mighty in a week (ONE WEEK) and ohmygosh I am trying like hell to get everything under control here before I leave. Starting with this list.

Let's start with my top five, shall we? Here is a list of my No-time-like-the-present, things I really want to do list:

1. Get my book published.

2. Drink 32oz of water each morning before I allow myself any coffee or tea.

3. Establish a daily yoga practice, heavy on the meditation and stretching, avoiding sun salutations whenever possible.

4. Create photo albums for my kids of their lives so far, to give them on their birthdays.

5. Take the family to Inishbofin to see my grandmother's house before it is sold (a race against time)

And now for the rest. Some brought back by popular demand and lack of motivation last year, others brand new and open to interpretation. Liberal interpretation.

6. Drive around the country (literally, around the perimeter: west coast, across the south, up the east coast, then across the midwest) with Sam and the kids in a VW bus, documenting the trip thoroughly - even the messy parts.

7. Take my kids to Lebanon to get to know their relatives and learn Arabic

8. Master a killer karaoke performance that will bring the crowd to it's feet.

9. Yoga retreat in India

10. Learn to can/jar things

11. Open a roller rink

12. Buy a small house right on the beach. On the sand.

13. Set up a sewing nook and sew some stuff.

14. Laser hair removal. It's time.

15. Have an apple tree in my backyard for climbing and snacking.

16. Become a competent surfer who can paddle out without making an ass of myself or getting tired halfway out.

17. Touch my toes.

18. Change the oil in my car.

19. Also learn how to use the jack. Why the hell not.

20. Live in a city and rely solely on public transportation

21. Be the primary breadwinner for a while.

22. Find the perfect pair of Red Cowboy Boots

23. Teach English in a foreign country

24. Write a wedding ceremony. Then marry people.

25. Learn to sail a boat then spend a week on a liveaboard crewing one

26. Raise chickens

27. Run for public office

28. Learn to like my big nose

29. Knit something that doesn't have holes and look dirty when I am done.

30. Dive off the deck of an overwater bungalow. Over and Over again.

31. Fly a plane

32. Have a regular column in a magazine

33. Springtime in Paris

34. Live in a hacienda with Bakey when we're old and gray with a hot pool boy/gardener and a masseuse(Can be the same person)

35. Pose for one of those costumed old-timey sepia photographs with Sarah

36. Play tambourine for Pearl Jam

37. Make croissants from scratch.

38. Become debt-free

39. Raise my children to be amazing, kind, generous, loving people who can support themselves.

40. Have a bedroom that is big and bright, with a huge antique iron bed and lots of storage

41. Have a house with an AGA stove. A big AGA stove.

42. Go to a show on Broadway at night, all dressed up with a new makeover like Cher in Moonstruck.

43. Be able to live half the year in Maui and half the year somewhere else.

44. Forgive 2 people who have hurt me and who I no longer speak to.

45. learn how to play chess

46. learn how to rollerskate backwards

47. spend some time living in a farmhouse in France. Bonus points if David Sedaris is my neighbor.

48. have a long paved driveway that we can ride bikes and rollerskate on.

49. intern as a merchandiser at several iconic retail stores who's aesthetics I admire. Like Anthropologie.

50. Have a bicycle of my own.

51. Buy a large piece of land with friends and family, build homes, and share responsibilities and expenses as
a group. Stop calling it a commune, mom.

52. Buy a fabulous vintage ballgown and attend an event like The Costume Institute Gala at the Met.

53. get rid of those frown lines between my eyes. I frown too much, obviously.

54. Go to a really great music event like SXSW with my husband and discover new bands together.

55. find a way for my husband and Slam's boyfriend to jam with Eddie Vedder here in Hawaii

56. say "I'm with the band" and then actually get on stage and perform instead of just helping to plug in cords.

57. do a five minute stand up comedy routine at an amateur night

58. get a film role, even just a walk-on

59. win an award that I am proud of

60. start taking pictures again.

61. Make videos of the kids regularly.

62. Take a river cruise in Europe (France?) where I can hop off and bicycle around. Bicycle must have basket. Fresh baguette not optional. Pack neckerchief.

63. Make a list of amazing things to do when the kids say they are bored.

64. Clip articles I love out of magazines and file them so that I can actually find them again

65. Volunteer with Charity:Water in Africa.

66. Re-establish Sunday night dinner at my house, and have a circle of friends that join us regularly.

67. Have a hot tub in my yard.

68. Finish my epic tattoo, so that it actually tells a story and isn't a random bunch of small pieces.

69. Start speaking a foreign language at home with Sam and the kids. Maybe just in the car, or at dinner time
to start.

70. Create a family tradition for Christmas Day.

71. Only use the computer during working hours.

72. Live somewhere with an incredibly low cost of living, so I can have a $10 massage every day if I want to. Oh, Thailand, I miss you.

73. Teach my kids to be really good drivers.

74. Choose a beautiful, heirloom quality rug for the living room.

75. Stop keeping "the nice stuff" hidden away so it won't get damaged or worn out - use it and enjoy it every day.

76. Start storing things in glass mason jars instead of Tupperware.

77. Establish a cleaning routine that includes the inside of the fridge.

78. Date night once a month, with heels and fancy underwear. Like a real date. (Making out in backseat optional)

79. Go to the beach once a week, even just for a walk in the sand.

80. Find the perfect vintage cocktail dress

81. Bring Back "The Hive" - a ladies night.

82. Work on a presidential campaign at headquarters

83. Have a radio show

84. Try a new recipe for dinner every week

85. Keep a houseplant alive.

86. Host a clothing swap

87. Get professionally fitted for a bra at an atelier

88. Make pasta from scratch

89. Fly home just to make soupy with my family in January. It's that important.

90. Bring my grandmother out to Hawaii.

91. Install a fold-down ironing board so that ironing isn't such a hassle.

92. Have a fun, funky collection of something, like antique lighters or hats, or ????

93. Keep my car clean. No, really.

94. Tedx Maui. Someday I will have something to talk about.

95. Read the entire Little House series to Lucy, and then introduce her to some other favorite series. The Shoes books, for example.

96. Paint. On canvas. Yes I can.

97. Reorganize the closets. Lucky to have them, let's make the most of it.

98. Personalized note cards for gifts and thank yous

99. Stop letting money stress me out and make me feel bad. I give it too much of my time.

100. Decide what I want to be when I grow up

My grandmother's pi(e) is better than Your my grandmother's pi(e)

This Wednesday, March 14th, is Pi(e) Day.
(Because it's 3.14)
(Get it?!)
(I didn't really get it either, don't worry. But I guess it makes sense to some math-y people out there.)

In honor of Pi(e) Day, I am going to strike an item off of my Top Five Life List. This is very exciting news INDEED as my Life List is practically moulding from sitting on the shelf in this humid climate. Back in November at Camp Mighty I chose a few things for my Top Five that were stretches, to say the least. And to balance it out I chose a few that I considered "do-able" - not lofty or far-fetched, something I could complete when I was feeling overwhelmed or underachieved. Which pretty much sums up December-March this year.

So, time to make some fucking pie. My grandmother's lemon meringue pie, to be precise. (Precision! For all those math-y people!) When I wrote about this in November, Jen said "Idea: what if you posted your grandma's recipe and several of us, around the world, made it on the same day and ate it together? And then toasted your grandma? And then blogged about the experience of making it and told stories of our own grandmas?" Jen, I love you. And I think that is a rad idea. Let's put on our best aprons and make some grandma magic, shall we? Everyone, I want to hear about your pie, and your grandmothers. Sarah is going to be here to hold my hand and beat the egg whites into submission while I sniffle into a tissue and think about my grandmother.

I have two grandmothers, actually. My paternal grandmother is an accomplished home chef, of the enormous casserole and lots of wine variety. She had a gorgeous gourmet kitchen filled with le Creuset and a professional Viking range/grill/double oven thing that took up an entire 6 foot long section of wall. She cooked for masses of people, and she did it with style. And a bottle of white wine. Sometimes, a box of white. Depends on the holiday and level of chaos. Love you Grammie! But she was not a baker, really. I don't remember a lemon meringue pie at her house - unless my other grandmother brought it over.

The grandmother in question - the pie baker - is my maternal grandmother, Mabel. Mebs for short. I grew up around the corner from her house, and I wear her wedding rings as my own. I think of her every single day of my life. Mebs was not a home chef - she had a very basic kitchen filled with very basic ingredients, and I don't remember her drinking wine except at church. She cooked most food until it was almost inedible DONE if you know what I mean. But oh, her pies.

Mebs made pies for almost every holiday. It is a huge part of my childhood memories, pies cooling on the kitchen table while I sat on the stepstool under the wall phone eating whipped cream off the beaters. She passed away during my sophomore year of high school, and her loss was - is - something that causes me unspeakable amounts of sorrow. I mean, I honestly can't even really talk about it out loud, so I am going to write about it for a minute and we'll see if I can pull it together afterwards to make some pie. Okay, tissues. Here we go.

Some back story. The women in my family live until basically forever. They are the hardiest, nuttiest women - and I had THREE great-grandmothers around when I was growing up. All three were bat-shit crazy, with varying degrees of sweetness to temper the old lady-ness. Mebs' mother - Also named Mabel - lived to be 106 or something ridiculous like that, and until she was 98 Mabel tore around town in a Dodge Dart with the celing panel hanging down over her head. She was about 4 feet tall, and sat on a stack of pillows to get high enough to see through the middle of the steering wheel and peer over the dashboard. She was always called "Great Grandmother" - no cute nicknames, and certainly not "Mebs" - Mabel was all business and showed no signs of slowing down. The phrase "tough old bird" pretty much describes her to a T. And her daughter, my grandmother Mebs, while more refined and much less insane, was also not showing any signs of slowing down. At 80 she was still picking us up from school in her Grand Prix, rocking the high heels, and handing out Cinnamint Lifesavers to anyone who asked, or needed one. I had no doubt that my grandmother would outlive her mother by a good 25 years.

Until she didn't.

My great grandmother Mabel fell in the bathroom one day and broke her hip. She was discovered on the floor of the bathroom several hours later by Mebs, who promptly called an ambulance. When the ambulance arrived, and the EMTs were talking with Mebs about her mother, and loading my great grandmother into an ambulance, my beloved grandmother Mebs had a stroke. A second ambulance was called.

It was probably the single most chaotic day for that retirement complex ever, and there was a lot of confusion because two elderly women arrived at the hospital via ambulance within 10 minutes of each other, from the same address, with the same first name. My great-grandmother was probably complaining loudly about everything, and being a real pain in the ass. Mebs had been rendered silent by the stroke. She never spoke again. She hung on, paralyzed and silent, for how long I honestly cannot remember (and I need to keep it that way for my own mental well-being). In the end, probably because she knew she would live another 25 years trapped in that silent, paralyzed body, stuck in a nursing home with terrible food, in a room that always smelled of adult diapers and desperation instead of lily of the valley and lavender sachets, Mebs took control of the situation in the only way she knew how. She stopped eating. I do not remember when she died, and only vaguely remember her funeral. I know I was 15. I was also drunk for the entire weekend and stayed out for most of the night wandering Haley Farm with a boy. My grandmother must have kept a close eye on me from where ever it is that she was, and  made sure I got home safe and sound eventually which was a damn miracle consdering the circumstances, my mental state, and the company I was keeping. The entire weekend is a blur, and I am glad - who the hell wants to remember losing one of the people they loved most?

I want to remember her baking pies, and teaching me how to whip cream and later how to make meringue (which she only showed me how to do once before the stroke). She cooked meat until it was gray, and veggies until they were limp, but the woman made the most amazing pies and damnit her legacy needs to live on. And so, we are all going to make lemon meringue pies.

Yes, even you.
We can do this.

I will be using my grandmother's recipe, which is in her 4th edition, 1952 copy of Meta Given's Modern Encyclopedia of Cooking. I have her notes in the margins, and I will share them with you because my grandmother would want me to. This cookbook is something I treasure, something I would rescue in a fire. It has her handwritten notes, odd pieces of mail, and recipes clipped out of magazines. It is a time capsule for me.

1/4 cup cornstarch and 2 Tbs flour
1 1/4 cup sugar
1/4 tsp salt
1 1/2 cups boiling water
3 eggs separated
1/3 cup strained lemon juice
2 Tbs butter
1/2 tsp grated lemon rind
baked pie shell
1/3 cup sugar

Blend cornstarch, flour, sugar and salt in saucepan. Add boiling water gradually and blend thoroughly. Cookk over direct heat, stirring constantly, until thick and clear (about 3 minutes). Beat egg yolks (my grandmother's note says to add the lemon juice to the yolks) and add some of the hot mixture to slowly begin to warm the yolks so that they don't cook too quickly. Pour back into saucepan and stir to blend, cooking for two minutes more, stirring constantly. Remove from heat. Add butter and lemon rind, mixing well. Pour into cooled pie shell. Set aside to cool.

Beat egg whites, until stiff, adding sugar gradually, continue beating until thick and smooth. Pile lightly and quickly on top of the pie filling right to the edge of the crust. Bake at 350 for 12-15 minutes until meringue is lightly browned, then let cool on a rack completely before cutting. (The pie was the first thing my grandmother made on a holiday, so it cooled all day long while she prepared the rest of the meal.)

A step by step journal will appear here later, and if you choose to make a pie in honor of Mebs, please let me know - I would love to hear how it turned out.

5 things from Camp Mighty

Memories of Camp Mighty have come back in dribs and drabs, and are covered with glitter and sticky with Tang. I still have water in my ear, actually. I am terrified of losing my index card where I made note of the 5 things I am going to accomplish this year, so I am going to record them here. But before I do, I want to tell you something.

Yes. You.

If you read nothing else that I have written here, I just need you to know this:

If you are ever presented with an opportunity to attend something like Camp Mighty, you must take it. You don't have to be a blogger. You don't have to have a twitter handle. But if you would like to be inspired, to be surrounded by a group of compassionate and generous people and then challenged and cheered on, then you should attend an event like this. Something small-ish in size but big-ish in energy, in a cool location. The location of Camp Mighty was perfect - being in Palm Springs is like being on another planet, but with a hot tub and lots of fresh air. The people I spent time with were so amazing and kind and supportive and wonderful. Their encouragement made me brave. Which is good, because I needed it. I had a life list to wrangle.


But first, we had to get there. If you are contemplating attending an event such as this, but you think it will be too complicated or too hard to arrange childcare and buy plane tickets and rent a car and find someone to share your room with.....it's not. You can make this happen. I promise you. We flew from Maui to San Diego, had a great dinner with friends, and then drove through the night to LA, stopping to sleep and visit family for a few hours. After a quick shopping trip on Melrose, we pointed the rental due east and Sarah hit the gas.

I had never driven through the desert before. When you round a corner in the middle of absolutely nowhere and suddenly find yourself face-to-face with lush green landscaping and mid-century architecture, it's pretty surreal. We drove to Palm Springs from LA on Thursday afternooon, and drove to San Diego early Sunday morning to catch our flight home. Really early. We left Palm Springs at 1am, coasting through the desert overnight, high on adrenaline and Redbull, talking non-stop about what we were going to do and where we were going to go, and how amazing the weekend had been.

I was emotional. I was simultaneously pumped up and drained. Inspired and overwhelmed. It was exactly what I needed to shake myself out of this holding pattern I've been in, and choose a path.

I wished that I could have had one more day with everyone, with no flights to catch and no schedule to keep.

I wished that I had gotten a room at the Ace instead of the budget motel down the street.

I wished I had brought the bottle of red wine for the drive.

But these are not regrets - all of these wishes are good things. They are part of what I learned. If I ever have the opportunity to attend another Camp Mighty event, I will get even more out of it, because I know what is important to me.

Now that my memory has returned, that is.

Before arriving at camp I had a life list and a list of the events planned for the weekend. Knot-tying and opening a bottle of champagne with a sword were top on my list of camp events. But when we got there, I realized that this was going to be So. Much. More. than fun activities and an open bar. The things that had the biggest effect on me were not the cool stuff like wielding a fire extinguisher or learning how to make the perfect mix tape. Instead, I was fired up about the inspiring speakers (seriously inspiring - relatable and accessible and fun) and a long breakout session discussing our life lists.

And oh, those lists. We had to pick our top 5 items to discuss with the group. And by the time the first person had gotten to her third item, I had the Kleenex out.

People got real.

And in the midst of revealing some huge goal or challenge or dream - something personal or profound or just plain hard - inevitably someone else in the group would reach out a hand for a supportive squeeze, or chime in with an "I can help."

And help they did.

Since camp, missing people have been found, art has been created, friendships have been forged, things have been accomplished at an accelerated rate. Here's my list, which is rumpled but still on my bedside. Dana suggested "Rock Lobster" by the B52s as my karaoke song - duly noted, my dear:

1. Bake my grandmother's pie. The pie in question is a lemon meringue. I have her cookbook from 1952 - Meta Green's Modern Encyclopedia of Cooking. The note inside says "December 11, 1952" with her name and address at that time. In December of 1952, my grandmother was 40-something with a brand new baby that had been a big surprise. She was living on Long Island, and I can't even imagine what she was feeling. Maybe this cookbook and these recipes were a way for her to take back some control over her life. To plan meals, to bake during naptime, to create and express herself in some way. She had wanted to be a pilot, you know.

I'm going to make this lemon meringue pie, and then I am going to learn how to fly a plane. Two items off my list. I miss my grandmother.

2. Build a guest room. If you are a building inspector from the county, and saw our load of building supplies being delivered last week, FEAR NOT! We are not building a guest room. Oh my no. We are building a "storage shed". (To store our guests.) Nothing to see here. No permit required. Our guests love battery powered lighting!

3. Decide what I want to be. This is a big one. I don't know what I want to do with the rest of my life. I am one of those mothers who's kids are in school all day - not long enough for me to get a full time job without hiring a nanny, but long enough for me to be home every day bored out of my mind and looking for things to do. I have to decide. Am I going to work from home? Am I going to write? Should I learn a new skill? Which leads me to number four:

4. Learn to work a drilling rig. Part of attending camp was raising money for Charity:Water to buy a drilling rig. The rig will dig wells in Ethiopia, and provide clean fresh drinking water to people who have none. I want to learn how to operate one of these things. I want to understand how they work, how they choose the place to drill the well. And then? I want to travel to Ethiopia and see the rig at work. They don't have to let me operate it (although I will be wearing a hard hat JUST IN CASE THEY DO). I just want to be a part of something that changes someone else's life for the better. I want to put away this laptop and go outside and learn something new - something that will benefit others. I want to help.

5. And then, in the middle of saving the world, I want to nail a karaoke performance. Choose a song that will bring the crowd to it's feet, sing it like it's my JOB, complete with some sort of dance that doesn't look like I am having a seizure, and leave everyone cheering. I can't decide if this would be easier in front of a crowd of strangers, or people I know and love. I'm leaning toward strangers - at least the first time. Once I've got it down, I'll sing this one penultimate song at every opportunity. My apologies in advance.

So that's it. My list. I'm ready to go build the storage shed (for storing guests) and bake a pie. The rest will come in time. I'm gonna need some more Tang.

The list of things I should have done already (updated)

In life, there have been two things that have prevented me from doing things I want to do:


Commitments to others.

Lack of finances

And then, of course, there's the fear factor.

Or it could just be my penchant for procrastination.

So I am compiling a list of things I really want to do. And these are not things I want to do before I die - these are things I want to do as soon as possible. It would have been cheaper and easier and far more convenient to do them without two children in tow, but everything is better when it's shared with someone you love. Right? (Just do me a solid and agree with me here, the alternative is too depressing.) (Use the phrase "do me a solid" correctly was totally on my life list. Done.)

So, the list. As inspired by the Divine Ms M(aggie Mason) in preparation for Camp Mighty.
(2012 updates in parenthesis)
1. Take my kids to Lebanon to get to know their relatives and learn Arabic
2. Master a killer karaoke performance that will bring the crowd to it's feet.
3. Write a book (so people will stop asking me when I'm going to write a book). (SO close. SO CLOSE.)
4. Make really good fried chicken.
5. Yoga retreat in India
6. Learn to can/jar things
7. Open a roller rink
8. Buy a small house right on the beach. On the sand.
9. Set up a sewing nook and sew some stuff.
10. Laser hair removal. It's time.
11. Have an apple tree in my backyard for climbing and snacking.
12. Become a competent surfer who can paddle out without making an ass of myself or getting tired halfway out.
13. Touch my toes.
14. Master liquid eyeliner (victory!)
15. Change the oil in my car.
16. Also learn how to use the jack. Why the hell not.
17. Live in a city and rely solely on public transportation
18. Be the primary breadwinner for a while.
19. Find the perfect pair of Red Cowboy Boots
20. Teach English in a foreign country
21. Write a wedding ceremony. Then marry people.
22. Renact the entire movie Mamma Mia on a Greek island, playing all the parts.
23. Drive a bitchin' Camaro (CHECK - on the Vegas Strip, no less)
24. Do a girls roadtrip through the desert a la Thelma and Louise (bonus points if I do it in a Camaro)
25. Learn to sail a boat
26. Take a calligraphy class
27. Raise chickens
28. Run for public office
29. Learn to like my big nose
30. Run a 5k just so I know that I can do it without collapsing
31. Bake a souffle just so I know I can do it without it collapsing
32. Knit something that doesn't have holes and look dirty when I am done.
33. Dive off the deck of an overwater bungalow. Over and Over again.
34. Fly a plane
35. Have a regular column in a magazine
36. Have an office to go to each day. (CHECK! Although, ironically, I choose to go to a coffee shop instead)
37. Springtime in Paris
38. Rent an RV and tour New Zealand
39. Live in a hacienda with Bakey when we're old and gray with a hot pool boy/gardener and a masseuse(Can be the same person)
40. Pose for one of those costumed old-timey sepia photographs with Sassin
41. Play tambourine for Pearl Jam
42. Make croissants from scratch.
43. Take a group of friends to my grandmother's house on Inishbofin
44. Become debt-free
45. Raise my children to be amazing, kind, generous, loving people who can support themselves.
46. Have a bedroom that is big and bright, with a huge antique iron bed and lots of storage
47. Have a house with an AGA stove. A big AGA stove.
48. Go to a show on Broadway at night, all dressed up with a new makeover like Cher in Moonstruck.
49. Be able to live half the year in Maui and half the year somewhere else.
50. Forgive 2 people who have hurt me and who I no longer speak to.
51. Make photo albums annually for my kids and give to them each Christmas
52. learn how to play chess
53. learn how to rollerskate backwards
54. spend some time living in a farmhouse in France. Bonus points if David Sedaris is my neighbor.
55. have a long paved driveway that we can ride bikes and rollerskate on.
56. intern as a merchandiser at several iconic retail stores who's aesthetics I admire. Like Anthropologie.
57. Go back to the Virgin Islands and charter a liveaboard boat to sail around for a few weeks.
58. Buy a large piece of land with friends and family, build homes, and share responsibilities and expenses as a group. Stop calling it a commune, mom.
59. Clear out my closet once and for all, and stop buying random crap. Quality not quantity. (DONE!)
60. Build a small guestroom/playroom so family can visit more often. (COME VISIT, WE HAVE ROOM!)
70. Sell this house and buy something with more outdoor space and higher ceilings.
71. Buy a fabulous vintage ballgown and attend an event like The Costume Institute Gala at the Met.
72. Take my dog to a trainer who can teach him to stop humping other dogs. It's gross and embarrassing.
73. Bake my grandmother's lemon meringue pie. (A reluctant check. I am going to try again with packaged pie crust. Mine was like shoe leather. What a nightmare.)
74. Get paid to travel
75. get rid of those frown lines between my eyes. I frown too much, obviously.
76. Go to a really great event like SXSW with my husband and discover new bands together.
77. find a way for my husband and Slam's boyfriend to jam with Eddie Vedder
78. go to an open mic and perform
79. do a five minute stand up comedy routine at an amateur night
80. get a film role, even just a walk-on
81. win an award that I am proud of
82. rescue an animal - not from the pound.
83. start taking pictures again.
84. Make videos of the kids.
85. Take a river cruise in Europe (France?) where I can hop off and bicycle around.
86. Make a list of amazing things to do when the kids say they are bored.
87. Clip articles I love out of magazines and file them so that I can actually find them again
88. Learn how to work this drilling rig I'm fundraising for, then fly to Ethiopia and work with the drilling crew.
89. Re-establish Sunday night dinner at my house, and have a circle of friends that join us regularly.
90. Visit places that intrigue me like Bali, Cuba, and Maldives
91. Finish my epic tattoo, so that it actually tells a story and isn't a random bunch of small pieces.
92. Start speaking a foreign language at home with Sam and the kids. Maybe just in the car, or at dinner time to start.
93. Create a family tradition for Christmas Day.
94. Only use the computer during working hours.
95. Live somewhere with an incredibly low cost of living, so I can have a $10 massage every day if I want to. Oh, Thailand, I miss you.
96. Make chocolate, Eat it. Repeat.
97. Throw out underwear when it's time to get new ones - am I waiting for them to actually fall apart before I replace them? (I did it! It hurt to throw it away, but I just threw it away!)
98. Teach my kids to be really good drivers.
99. Stop letting money stress me out and make me feel bad. I give it too much of my time.
100. decide what I want to be when I grow up

Things that have been crossed off:
Own a Mini Cooper (leased, I'm okay with that)
Eliminate fast foods and soda from my diet (with exceptions for emergency McDonalds french fry cravings.)
Join a Roller Derby team
Bring a market basket with me to do my shopping, and stop using plastic carrier bags
Dye my hair red
Have a well-stocked pantry ready for whipping up a quick meal or special something
Take a spur of the moment international vacation when I see a cheap ticket online
Get Married in Vegas
Pierce my nose
Attend a cooking school in another country.
Try kombucha (actually yummy!)
Switch to more natural cleaning products
Cut down on using disposable stuff like baggies and paper towels
Find the perfect school for my kids
Skate at Rockefeller Center at Christmas time
Ring in the New Year in Times Square
Sell everything and move to Maui
Quit a job I need, because I hate it