Just like college

Saturday night Eric and I went out on a date while my mom stayed with Emerson at our place. Eric had planned a sophisticated evening out for us the main event of which was: a magic show.

We went to dinner beforehand and got to the magic show venue (a hotel meeting room with a make-shift curtain backdrop) and noticed a crowd gathered across the street. It turned out to be a performance art piece that, like every theater performance my entire time at Brown, involved a naked woman.

In this case, the art was sort of happening to her: she stood there while the "artists" took objects off of a wall display and used them on her. One person brushed her hair. Someone else painted things on her body. Another fellow wrapped her in saran wrap. Then someone cut the saran wrap off of her. And then someone squeezed a lemon on her. And so on like that.

Hmmm. I wished that one of the things on the wall was an oversized t-shirt. Or a hug. You know - things she could have actually used. But this was art and the point, whatever it was, had to be made.

So we went into the magic show! The audience was us and about 9 other people: a few other couples on dates, a nine year old boy and his parents, and an older couple that may have been German.

We had a wonderful time in spite of the completely amateurish performance. It might have been fun to guess how they were doing the tricks if it hadn't been so obvious. There were two magicians and the first one was so nervous his hands were shaking through all his card tricks. The second magician at least had a big wonderful showman persona so even though his tricks were flimsy he was great fun to watch.

When we emerged from the magic show, the "art project" across the street was continuing: her hair was now covered in vaseline and someone had lit a candle in front of her and was using aerosol deodorant to make little fireballs in front of her (not at her).

We watched for a few minutes because it was impossible not to. Then we wandered over to Union Square where, of course, a small group of guerrilla film-makers was shooting a music video. Six young women in tight black clothes and boots (three identical-looking blondes and three identical-looking brunettes) strutted around with bright red umbrellas. To capture the action smoothly the camera dude was being pushed around in a wheelchair.

Apparently the video is for the upcoming smash hit: "Marco Polo."

Then it was time to ride our bikes home.

Play Opera!

Eric and I went with our friend Julie to see Opera at the Ballpark on Friday. Julie's husband Adam stayed at our place with the Little E who was asleep. It was a deliciously warm evening and we walked from our place to the ballpark along the water, my favorite route and the first part of my commute (via bicycle).

This is the fifth time (I think) that they have done the Opera at the Ballpark simulcast where the opera is played on the ballpark scoreboard, complete with subtitles. They bring in supplemental speakers which help with sound quality and while it is still clearly a ballpark and not an opera house, it sounds pretty good.

We sat next to a couple of older women who would have looked right at home in the actual opera house except that they were eagerly scarfing down ballpark hot dogs and drinking beers.

As we were walking in I joked that they should play the Star-Spangled Banner before the start of the opera.

Around 7:50pm, they announced that some woman who had won a contest would be leading the crowd of 30,000 (yes! 30,000!) in the national anthem.

And I thought I was being funny.

I was therefore not at all surprised when during intermission a cartoony opera mascot strutted out to the pitcher's mound to lead the crowd in Take Me Out To The Opera House ("... I don't care if it's Wagner or Strauss...")

It was all simply delightful.

It doesn't go without saying

I am meeting in person with a bigwig at an apparel company tomorrow and had a phone call this morning with the head of my company to prepare for it.

Toward the end of the call he paused and then said: "And Ellie - dress fashionably."

I waited for him to add "as you always do" but he seemed to have finished his thought.

It was a great party!

Here's just a flavor of what a great time we had in August.

They got us

I was delighted to discover yesterday that the urban guerilla knitters had targeted our neighborhood. As I was walking Emerson to the park I saw it on the bike rack on our corner, outside the Connecticut Yankee:

Guerilla knitting is an international phenomenon where sneaky knitters will drop "yarn bombs" in urban areas.

For example, on lightposts, signposts, unsuspecting trees, statues and many, many bike racks.

As far as I know, they haven't tried it on an unconscious homeless guy yet.

Games people play

We spent this past weekend with 12 other people in a big house on the Russian River, about two hours north of San Francisco. When I write it like that it sounds like maybe we were on a reality TV show but it was just a fun weekend with friends. As least that's what I've been led to believe.

The house backed right onto the river and had a yard that may have been originally designed as the worlds most challenging mini-golf course. We discovered this while playing Bocce ball - a new game for me and one I liked very much. For those people like me who don't get out much and so are new to Bocce it is sort of like Curling but on grass instead of ice, with balls instead of whatever those curling things are and without the funny manic sweeping.

The balls are marble and really heavy and the yard which, at a glance was more or less flat, turned out to be a nightmare for novice Bocce-ers and an unexpected challenge to the more experienced players. You would gently roll a big ball toward the white target ball and just as it got close it would suddenly change direction, pick up speed and end up under a bush. I almost think the terrain was somehow haunted the behavior of the balls was so inexplicable.*

The good news was that after we had tired of physics-defying Bocce, people were up for playing a whole bunch of other games. I personally LOVE playing games and this group of 12 other fervent game players was amazing - I learned and became obsessed with winning a bunch of new games that I hadn't even known existed. For example, a board game from Europe called Jamaica which involves pirates, treasure and small plastic ships; and Bananagrams - like Scrabble but without the board and without the agonizing waits between your turn.


*In a conversation about the supernatural at one point the idea came up that there should be a Oiuja board iPhone app. There are three. And there's also a Magic 8 Ball app that I might have to get too.

Thank you Random Lady

Dear Random Lady,

I want to thank you for the adorable and appropriately sized socks for Emerson. His feet are toasty warm all the time now. And no one at the grocery store or anywhere else has critiqued my mothering since we got them. Thank you!

Love,
Ellie (& Emerson)

Back to work

Sitting at my desk yesterday afternoon, I got this email from a colleague/friend who lives in our neighborhood and has a baby two months younger than Emerson.

"Hey Working Lady! I ran into a certain Emerson at the library today! Was happy as a clam, sucking away at his bottle."

(She didn't mention that he was there with his new daytime caretaker Karina but I think it is safe to assume that he was.)

I was glad, and not really surprised, to hear that Emerson seemed happy. I choose to see it as a good thing that he doesn't seem to need me around to be perfectly content.

But I do miss him very much as I sit here at this silly desk doing grown-up things like earning a paycheck and helping businesses be more environmentally sustainable.

Irony of the day: I suspect I will blog more consistently now since blogging is less fun than hanging out with Emerson but more fun than working (and also easier to do when you are already sitting at a computer).

Honey!

One of the best ways to not think about how your first day back at work is tomorrow is to harvest the honey from your beehives. So that's what Eric and I did last night. Eric tells the story on his blog in two parts: stealing the honey from the bees and then getting it ready to put in jars.

Thank you beeeeeeees!