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I Moved Into Our New House and Met 19 New Neighbors on Our Street! It Was Weird.
It started five months ago with the people who share our fence. They were nice and we were new, so the conversation revolved around our dogs, mail for the former owner, and if the HOA is strict about paint colors. They are. Handshakes and names quickly moved to swim invites and baked goods, with a walk for the ladies and a beer for the guys. Southern California fence culture says, “That side’s yours, this side’s mine. Keep your tree limbs trimmed.” But since I’m not originally from here, Carrie culture says, “Let’s knock the fence down and have a BBQ!” The first thing we noticed about our new neighborhood…
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The Day I Deleted Her Info: Saying Goodbye to a Lifelong Friend
Just because two sets of parents are good friends doesn’t mean their offspring will follow suit. So was the case with Chelsea and me. We saw each other every summer at Mount Hermon and ran through camp together while our parents hung out and caught up. It took 358 days to bring us together again, and we continued that pattern through childhood and adolescence. I’m writing a book for a woman about grit and resilience. Besides living in another country for 12 years, I haven’t had many events or occasions that forced me to dig in and claw my way out. And in a weird way, I feel bad about…
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Classy Smut: TV Shows That Suck Us In
I walked by the dilapidated Baja house with the window open and heard it. I visited Porvenir friends in the middle of the afternoon and saw it. Almost every time we ate tacos early, like old people, we saw it again—at our favorite stand, just above the raw meat. Ask any woman in most Latin American countries what rules the mid-mornings and afternoons at home and they’ll probably say the same thing: Novelas. Known as Soap Operas in English, the name originated from the squeaky clean stuff we call soap. Since most women worked at home in the 1930s, daytime dramas targeted them and their cleaning needs. The networks required…
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Your Hoopie’s Showing
My grandma. So sweet and helpful. If you ever wore a necklace in her presence and the clasp slid around toward the front, she was your girl. “Oh here, honey, let me help you. Your hoopie’s showing.” I naturally learned from an early age how hoopies should be on the back of my neck and only the back. Letting them rotate to the front looked unkept/disheveled. I also learned wrinkled clothing was a no-no. From t-shirts and jeans to knickers and parachute pants, everything qualified. Does this give you hives? Let’s be clear though: I’m still a fan of ironed clothes if I’m going somewhere that demands a grown-up…
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I Like it When You Say That. Now Please Stop.
I’m weak, okay? There–I said it. I’d like to think I can handle whatever gets thrown my way, but no. So in an effort to change and grow, I’ve made a list. These random observations have been bothering me lately so I thought I’d bother you with them. In no particular order, I offer you three things I like to hear: Numero Uno: Your Kids Are So Tall! I know—I’ve done it too. Well-intentioned words that sound like compliments, as if the child got that high on the measuring stick based on talent. Besides the fact they already know it, there’s nothing inherently wrong with telling kids they’re tall. The…
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The Secret Society of Christmas Anxiety: How to Calm the Expectations
No pressure, but have you poured your own candles with beeswax from your backyard colony yet? …gotten your hollyhock dipped and your mattress flipped? …added plumbing to your gingerbread house? …drained your hot tub and refilled it with mulled cider, orange slices and cinnamon sticks? Is there a wreath on your grill and a candle on your sill? …gold glitter on your babysitter? …a candy cane on your windowpane? …jingle bells on your dusted shelves? Good tidings, no. Martha Stewart’s still alive and well, but let’s all give an eight-clap to the fact we don’t live in the ‘90s anymore. If she wants to stencil her driveway, God bless…
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How To Hack the Heck Out of Your Thanksgiving Turkey Day
Photo by Gemma Evans on Unsplash No boring twine and brine reminders here. I dug deeper, scoured the sites and compiled a list to make your turkey day a tad easier. Some of these items I own, some I’m buying, and some I’m loving from a distance, but they are definitely mother-in-law approved. Most of us are about to host or join a gathering that begs for planning, cooking and manners, but fear not. You still have time to order these helpful goodies from Amazon and get them way before Aunt Nelda pushes your buttons doorbell. Affiliate Lingo: Purchasing these products costs you nothing extra, but swings a little kickback…
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Need Attention? Please Don’t Spin Like a Record, Baby.
Organizing one college boy and six high school girls into two cars proved simple. Life in 1992 revolved around a manageable amount of activities, so none of us had a problem scheduling a date for the shoot. Three of us sat on the brink of caps and gowns, ready for diplomas but not ready for goodbyes, so our last attempt to commemorate our friendship and seal our bond came in the form of photos. From conservative Mount Hermon to liberal Santa Cruz, we made our way to 701 West Cliff Drive with windows up to protect our amateur makeup and Aqua Net perms. May at the beach didn’t always…
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‘Adulting’ Just Grew Up. Please Follow Along, Gen Z.
“The kid called the officer a pig. To his face.” “A student challenged me in the middle of class about how my assigned homework was unnecessary.” “A parent told me her son can’t pass P.E. because he has a reading disability.” Wouldn’t you love to see the research that connects Shakespeare to dressing out? ‘To change or not to change: that is the question.’ These real-life examples and similar instances are popping up all over middle and high school campuses. But that shouldn’t cause any old people to murmur, “Dang those teenagers,” while shaking their heads and alphabetizing their VHS tapes. If you’re of a certain age and hold…
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Gym Rookie: Humbled Under the Barbell
My doctor told me women my age should lift weights. Pause right there. “Women my age?” One perk of moving back to suburbia is living within a few miles of my former gym. Since I took my membership card to Mexico twelve years ago, and then brought it back, I figured I’d take a shot and see if I still existed in their system. Week One: I opened the glass door in a slightly self-conscious manner and approached a young, over-bubbly staff member. “Hi! Can I help you?” “Uhh, yes… are there a maximum amount of years you’ll hold a frozen account?” “I don’t think so. Let me…
