nu tar jag en semester

much needed break from the daily grind starts now...










                                        i am going hOme...  can't come soon enough...  so homesick...  for family, for friends, for food, for sleep, for the lake... oh i am so homesick.... so i am going hOme...

la reine

happy birthday to madonna -  our lady of reinvention

nothing is perfect. life is messy. relationships are complex. outcomes are uncertain. people are irrational.

                                                                                         hugh mackay

photo courtesy of f*** yeah edie

life lesson

yes and no

two of the shortest and simplest words in english are often not our most obvious choices.

sometimes we say one when we mean the other…sometimes we feel like we have to say one when we want to say the other.

practice using yes or no when we mean yes or no.

saying yes is agreeing to what we believe in or things we want to do, accepting invitations when we mean it, feeling good about helping someone or just yes, because our feelings tell us it is right for us, here and now.

saying no is refusing to lie, declining invitations we don’t want, passing on things we don’t feel good about or just no because our feelings tell us it is wrong for us, here and now.

learning to trust your own feelings of yes and no; what feels right and what feels wrong is the beginning of credibility. people will trust that you say what you mean and mean what you say.

two simple words open the doors to freedom. it is the start of owning your life and controlling where it goes.  

dating games

ten men waiting for me at the door?
send one of them home. i'm tired.

             -mae west

smile or die

for me, the streets of DC are every bit as ribald as my experiences in Rabat and Rome. lots of cat-calls, obscene whispers, vulgar comments and often more vulgar requests… it was mind-blowing when i moved back to the states and felt more scrutinized and vulnerable to men’s gazes and remarks than ever before; from Italy mind you. and i am blonde…

in my time here, i have endured daily jeers and leers running the gamut of men: from the street junkie to the pleated-front-khaki hill staffer to the most interestingly inspired garbage collector, all feel perfectly at ease announcing aloud their latent desires. i have heard some things that embarrassed me, sickened me, angered me and in general just annoyed me. i have long resented that i cannot walk the streets undisturbed in my own world and thoughts without a reliable reminder that i am female and thus, not privy to the glorious male possession of unquestioning entitlement that apparently includes sidewalks as well as the boardroom. but i digress…

but above all the lewd and piggish things i have heard nothing irks me quite so much as the simple command to “smile”.  i have posted about this before. i am not a smiler and it seems i live in a world where not smiling is sure sign that i am a deviant in desperate need of man to please. my blood boils when through the blare of my ear-buds; over the dull rumbling of traffic i hear “smile”. immediately my fists clench, my eyes narrow and my lips press more tightly together. no chance of so much as a smirk from me. why is it so necessary to smile?

i personally have a theory that it is a way to neutralize power in a woman. i walk with purpose, my broad shoulders squared, my head held high. i look like i have somewhere to go and something serious to do when i get there. is that so threatening? remember how popular Laura Bush was? every photo or film clip i saw of her, she wore that open-eyed blank smile. soft and gentle, she gazed adoringly at her husband. she was the ultimate supporting actress and her ever present smile assured us she liked it like that. no, she didn’t convey ambition or drive, just unwavering support for her man.

maybe i am over-analyzing a pet peeve. i stand by my cultural bias element in my previous post. however, i do find it curious in country that refuses to elect women to office in equal representation, we do want them to look happy about it.

photo: isabel marant scarf courtesy of netaporter.com

here come roly and poly

my mormor had strong opinions and severe tastes. one of her strongest and most severe was her distaste for the overweight or “fatties”, as she so often referred to anyone carrying more than five pounds of voluptuous curve. She did not censure her displeasure or contempt in any way or with any effort. on the contrary, she made comments like “i don’t know who is winning the contest for the fattest, mary or beth but they doing their damnedest to win” or my favorite, when looking out the window and seeing my two PREGNANT aunts walking up to her front door, she looked at me and said with dripping disgust, “well, nail down your cookies, here come roly and poly”.

she wasn’t playing around with fat people. even when a cancerous mass ravaged her body and sealed her fate, i knew her resentment was less about the football sized tumor that was destroying her body and ending her life, she was angrier that the tumor destroyed her waistline and ended her days of cinching her 24 inch waist. vanity thy name was mormor.

contrary to your expectations, she was a healthy and voracious eater of almost all foods. the richer, the dearer…she ate desserts at every meal and sometimes as a meal in themselves. at christmas the house was a cookie factory, reeking of butter, sugar and cardamom. cakes, pies, tortes, cookies…ice cream, whipped cream, custard…she devoured with relish. she loved the rarest of red meat, developed a great fondness for american fried chicken and biscuits in her later years. she ate almost anything and everything…i remember sharing deeply rubied plums, strawberries so red they stained fingertips and tongues, shaved fennel tossed with tomatoes from her garden…she taught me that everything tasted better fresh and grown close to home.

while she denied herself nothing, she was always lean as a whip. she attributed her tall, hourglass shape to her superior swedish genes and also to eating “real” food. she said (what Michael Pollan is frankly saying as well) that she ate things that looked as much like they did in nature as good cooking would permit. that her pastries and puddings and other ‘godis’ were homemade from farm fresh ingredients. she swore up and down that americans were fat because they bought things to eat and not real food, to cook at home. i think she was on to something and it seems that most health educators agree.

you know that i talk about reinvention and adaptation quite a bit…but when it comes to what we eat, keeping it in its original state seems to be the superior choice.

social grace

so about that polite refusal to your invitation...just take "no" for an answer!

this invitation/rsvp thing is a two way street. if i decline your thoughtful and generous invite, please just accept my refusal. no more of this "beg and plead" that happens so often. it doesn't make the offer more appealing, but it does annoy me in the present and decrease the likelihood that i will accept in the future.

when i was living abroad, one aspect of my job was to give little workshop-seminars on cultural nuance. this invite/refusal was a topic we revisited on many occasions. i am afraid this is one of those annoying cultural nuances particular to some. if a french person asks you to dinner and you reply by saying: sorry, non, i can't tonight, the issue is halted. no hurt feelings; just moving on... if we had that same conversation here in the states my sorry, no, is more often than not met with: "really? why? do you have other plans? what are they?"...or even worse..."awww c'mon...just one drink... are you suuuuure?"

the beg and plead. please do not press me about my refusal, but graciously consent in the same stride you would approve my acceptance. then you will have a chance at a next time...

life lesson

if money can fix it—it isn’t really broke….

a gem of advice from my mother…if you can solve the problem with money, it isn’t a problem worth worrying about.

so very true. often we worry and stress over problems that can be simply addressed by replacing something, hiring someone or getting something new. the point is, we fixate on the material which can almost always be replaced.

true, it is sad when our grandmother’s cake plate slips off the counter and shatters in a million pieces, but at least you have a memory of your grandmother using it and the comfort of knowing she wanted you to have something nice of hers to remember her by; which is really why you loved the cake plate anyway.

better to let go and let live than throw a betty draper style fit over a glass of red wine spilling on the table cloth. what will you take with you from that scene at dinner? a wonderful evening shared with loved ones, or the hysterical ranting of an angry host? over what? something that can be washed and remedied or just replaced.

sometimes we may not have the money to fix what is broken. that is okay. take stock of the simple fact that there is an apparent solution and calm the worry.

case in point: i loved my car. loved it. it was the car i learned to drive on (a feat worth its own post) and was a gift from my mother during one of my first grad programs. i had it for ten years and never had so much as a fender bender. my ex-boyfriend borrowed it once and within thirty seconds of turning the key in the ignition managed to have a head-on crash. i watched the whole debacle in what felt like slo-mo helpless from the curb. was i sad? yes. was i frustrated? yes. but I took a deep breath and immediately dialed my mechanic and the next day it was repaired. it was never the same again (the hood always needed two to open it) but it wasn’t worth a fight with my boyfriend or even holding a grudge. i didn’t really have the money to fix it being an impoverished grad student at the time, but the reality was, my boyfriend was unharmed and it was an incident that could have escalated quickly but quelled by remembering it was just a car.

it isn’t the objects in our life that make it better. repairing relationships, emotions, boundaries…those are the things that are worth our attention. those are the issues that are trickier to solve and are deserving of hard work and worry. protecting our relationships, feelings and friends is where our attention should lie. those are the elements that make the things in our life worth having.

finish each day and be done with it. you have done what you could.

some blunders and absurdities no doubt crept in; forget them as soon as you can.

tomorrow is a new day; begin it well and serenely and with too high a spirit to be encumbered with your old nonsense.

ralph waldo emerson

social grace

it's an invitation...not a summons darling...

an invitation is just that: a request, a suggestion, an option. it is not a requirement (except in the case of most funerals, family weddings i mean, obviously, you should know the difference).

this is a murky area for me historically. i have never treated invitations as an automatic confirmation of my attendance. nor do i feel my rsvp's require anything further than a simple acceptance or refusal.

no wild tales of other obligations, just a simple-  sorry i can't make it, hope your (blank) is a wild success, total blast, etc. etc.

i feel it is just more polite to be clear, direct, firm and prompt in my replies. why get lost in subterfuge when simplicity serves the purpose? the same is true for an acceptance. it is polite and thoughtful to let the host/hostess/organizer get an accurate idea of who is coming and who is not.

i had an old boyfriend who marveled at my speed and willingness to refuse invitations. he cautioned that they would "dry up"...not hardly! no one wants a recalcitrant-rebecca at their gathering; don't attend unless it is willingly and with good cheer. and if you can't be in the appropriate spirit, the only polite thing to do is to graciously decline.

life is so much less complicated this way. do what you want and be a good guest-- you will always be back in demand!

födelsedag

Everything one does in life, even love, occurs

in an express train racing toward death. To

smoke opium is to get out of the train while

it is still moving. It is to concern oneself with

something other than life or death.

Jean Cocteau

today is my birthday...excuse me while i hop off the train to celebrate

bridge of sighs

Love. Of course, love. Flames for a year, ashes for thirty.

Giuseppi di Lampedusa

life lesson

magical knowing

people are not mind-readers. even the ones that love you and know you best. no one can just magically know your thoughts and feelings.

this is a common theme with my couple-clients. so many disputes and grudges originate with one of the partners feeling slighted because the other did not "know" what they wanted/meant/felt just by looking at them or being with them.

it's a lovely idea that our most intimates know us so well they can read our minds. sometimes it may even seem like they can. but the truth is they can't; no one can. if you want something or are feeling something and need someone to know or to react to it, you must tell them.

telling them doesn't mean being bossy or directive or overbearing. it just means stating what you are thinking in a clear, direct and non-blaming way. how can we get what we want unless people know what it is?

now, if this doesn't work and your wishes are ignored, well, that is another "life lesson" post.

hur är det svensk?

Went to Nordic food event at Masa 14 tonight. Pic is from the walk over...just a shot of me looking disgusted by the incredible construction in my neighborhood. Tried for a good shot of my awesome Gaultier frock but alas...not so awesome angle.
Not sure what was so "Swedish" about it but it was good. I was really looking forward to a twist on tradition but it wasn't exactly that. I think the only thing Swedish tonight was me. Maybe the chef?
In any case ...it was a good way to keep the midsommar feste going. Heja sommar!

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en été, je pense à-t-elle...

it's finally really summer. midsommar was yesterday so it is official.
whenever it gets steamy and the sun blazes i think of jean seberg. i don't know why other than i used to read "bonjour tristesse" every summer while lying on the beach. i thought it made me look as glamorous as cecile seemed to be.  watching "a bout de souffle" always made me feel warm too, now that i think about it.
two of my favorite summer love stories. light, to be sure, but still thoughtful and substantive.

pictures (mostly) from cracked actress

tycker om lycka på fredag

It’s a helluva start, being able to recognize what makes you happy.

Lucille Ball

not my first love, but a great and lasting one

happy 50th birthday george!
i can't let it go unmentioned. cheers and thanks for being so fabulous.
and thank you especially for not once ever being boring or predictable!

go confidently in the direction of your dreams. live the life you have imagined.

-henry david thoreau



we are not the same persons this year as last;

nor are those we love.

it is a happy chance if we, changing, continue to love a changed person.

-William Somerset Maugham

thanks to IMDb for photos.

girl on fire

words of wisdom from my namesake...

photo from f*** yeah edie sedgwick

calling robyn!

i haven't had much to say lately, but i am so excited to see the new robyn video i thought i would just post it!
also, you know i am totally buying my own hairshirt!

holiday

it's the unofficial start of summer. everyone is clearing out of town and heading for the hills or the sand. me? i am staying here in the city. i decided to be a tourist in my own town. trying to see it from a fresh perspective and maybe in a new light that will last through the season. re-envision the landscape and by extension revise my routine. everyone needs to hit re-fresh once in awhile.

take the time to look around you this weekend. see what new things you notice. or better yet, take note of those things you take for granted and give them your fullest attention.
you know the song...
brought to you by the goddess of reinvention herself, the mighty madge.
celebrated by me, the swede lowdown.

this is what cool looks like

today is like janejanejanesassysassysassy...and i am like barf-o-rama. so over it! i never got it. i tried too. it just didn't work for me. it, frankly, wasn't cool.
which got me thinking...what was cool to me? what shaped my aesthetic sensibilities?
the answer was clear: BLONDIE
debbie harry is cool. period.
the first woman i ever wanted to be. i used to put on my mom's slips and muss my hair and dance in front of my disco mirror just like i was debbie harry. she showed me that smart, strong, talented women could also be hot and hip. she showed me how to be tough and independent; to stand tall and be interesting; to be center stage without apology.
thank you debbie harry! i am me because you are you.

life lesson

don't engage in foolery with fools.

seriously, it's not worth the time, trouble or energy. give them enough rope and they will hang themselves.

lot's of client talk this week about power struggles, getting even and being annoyed by friends and family. we've been practicing identifying boundaries and owning behaviours and feelings and the outcomes of such.

in other words, don't let someone else's  problems or issues become yours. you don't need problems because you have problems. and allowing them to pull you into the drama is getting involved.

define yourself and what is yours and detach with love and respect.