Alive in Wonderland

India Rose and my friend Suzie

  

I first met Suzie back in 1992 when we worked together at a bar in San Francisco called The Savoy Tivoli.  You may have heard of it--it's slightly infamous. The Savoy, on Grant Street  in North Beach opened its door in 1906 and has been employing art students, struggling writers, lost souls, and future suburbia lovers as its wait staff, bartenders, and bouncers ever since. 

I wrote about my friend Annie, who I worked with there, in this post.  I'm pretty much shamelessly begging you to read my post about her. It involves Adam Ant, a fake Irish accent, and an after-school special called "Because Mommy's Drunk."  Yeah, it's that good.  

 

 Anyway, back to Suzie.  She is pictured above with the big red lips and the gigantic Coach bag.  I was just a junior college transfer student from a suburb of LA called "Orange County" and I had never seen a Coach bag before.   Suzie was born and raised in San Francisco and had a style, a way about her, I hadn't ever come across at The Red Onion.   

Suzie was an artist.  She had the heart of a luminary and the mouth of a revolutionary, and when she stood up to Christophe (the towering Frenchman and the manager) on the left, and told him he treated us all "like dogs," threw down her apron, and walked out the narrow, wooden back door of The Savoy, I'm telling you, she was my hero. All I could do was stand there with my tray filled with Anchor Steams and Jager shots and watch her leave, knowing full well, she was NEVER coming back. 

...and she didn't.  She got herself a studio in the East Bay, which has over the years has become India Rose.  

 

Now, here's the shopping portion of the post, the really good stuff.  As I said, Suzie--who now goes by the name "Carter," her maiden name--has always had style, but talent too.  She's been very successful selling her home furnishings to retailers all over the world.  You may have heard of a little shop I've mentioned here called A.N.T.H.RO.P.O.L.O.G.I.E?  (...moment of reverence.) 

She sells to them...

things like this...

and this...

Oh, and I want this...

 

So great. And because I would always ask her if she wanted a Snapple when I would run across the street from The Savoy to get one for myself, and because I once covered her 9 p.m. to 3 a.m. shift (the most dreaded), she said she would give all the "Alive in Wonderland" readers 25% off EVERYTHING on her site.   

Here it is again : INDIA ROSE!  Just type in promotion code daily25 and you will get the discount I so selflessly earned for you.   

Bustin' Down the Door and The Surfer's Code: Awesome, even if you don't surf

This post is mostly about surfing.  I don't surf and never have, but I grew up in Huntington Beach immersed in the sport and attitude of surfing.  But, when Shaun Tomson, one of the greatest surfers who ever paddled out to catch a wave, walked into our cafe in Carpenteria 8 years ago, I didn't know who he was. 

Shaun and his wife Carla were friendly, gracious, loyal customers.  They would come in with their son, Mathew, sometimes and I would watch them sharing a meal and talking warmly to each other.  I was so saddened when I heard the news of their son's tragic death.  

I mean, really devastated.  

During the time we knew the Tomsons Larry and I were trying desperately to get pregnant, but with no success.  If you've ever struggled with infertility you know, it's pretty much all you can think about.  Babies are flippin' everywhere. Every women you see is pregnant.  Every family you lay eyes on is happy and contented.  

To me, the picture of their family, and especially Carla's tenderness toward her son, were inspiration to keep trying.  She would say things to me like "You're going to be a great mom" or give me the thumbs up when I would hold a customer's baby.  It was what I needed at that time in my life. It's not like we were all chummy or anything-- just casual acquaintances. But, their family was important to me in a way they probably didn't even know.

You know how it is, once we sold our cafe, I got pregnant (finally), and we moved back to OC, I didn't really think about them much...until I heard about Mathew.  I sent Carla a card, but I don't know if she ever received it.  

❃❃❃❃❃❃❃

The other night Larry and I watched "Busting Down The Door," a surf documentary about how Shaun Tomson, Wayne "Rabbit" Bartholomew, and Mark Richards ignited a surf movement in the mid-'70s that has made surfing the professional sport it is today.  Even if you don't surf and know nothing about it, I would still recommend seeing it.    ( Watch the trailer here)  

The love these guys have for surfing, the tenacity they showed as young men pursuing their passion, and the hardships they have overcome, makes this documentary powerful with some intensely personal moments.  

Yes, it does have some pretty bitchin' surf sequences that will make you hit the person next to you a million times to say, "Did you see that?"  It also will give you a heavy dose of retro '70s surf culture: Lighting Bolt surfboards and puka shells, that sort of thing.

In the last scene of the movie they show the three of them today--Shaun, Rabbit and MR--walking out to surf together again.  As they each ride a wave they cut seamlessly to video of them riding back in the '70s--chills, you'll get chills watching it.  

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This is The Surfer's Code, written by Shaun Tomson.  Now that you know a little of his story, you'll see it is meaningful to anyone, not just a surfer.

Surfer's Code:

I will never turn my back on the ocean

I will always paddle back out

I will take the drop with commitment

I will know that there will always be another wave

I will realize that all surfers are joined by one ocean

I will paddle around the impact zone

I will never fight a rip tide

I will watch out for other surfers after a big set

I will pass on my stoke to a non-surfer

I will ride, and not paddle in to shore

I will catch a wave every day, even in my mind

I will honor the sport of kings

❃❃❃❃❃❃

Leonard Cohen's "Who by Fire"

 plays at the beginning of "Bustin' Down The Door."

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                         

Libby's giving you CREDIT, and no one is doing that these days

 

My friend Libby Spears, who I have talked about before, and who I am beside myself with pride, has almost completed her documentary "Playground." 

Playground is a film born out of Libby's giant heart.  After hearing horrific stories about child sex trafficking in the United States, Libby began the long, difficult process of documenting the practice. The subject of domestic commercial sexual exploitation of children is ugly and despicable and certainly hard to hear about,  but I'm glad there are people like Libby who have made it their life's mission to expose it and in doing so, help extinguish it.

She has traveled the world getting interviews and following leads.  I hardly ever know where she is or where she is going. Sometimes my only clue to her whereabouts is the sporadic  Facebook photo of a plastic bunny in a Tokyo shop window or blurry profile of her named "southeast asia."  Her life has been about finishing "Playground" for I can't even remember how long...and now she is soooo close. 

If you want to help Libby, you're in luck.  She has set-up an easy way to donate that won't take a huge bite out of your recession-weary budget.  You can buy a credit in the film for $25.  Please go to her site here--The Playground Project--and check out the details. 

Thank you, Libby.  You inspire.  I love you, my sweet friend--wherever you are.

We were never being boring

This is a picture of my friend Robin and me in Paris, 1990.  We posed like this for every picture in front of every monument we saw in Europe. We were trying to stick- it to Robin's mom who was a travel agent and perfectionist extraordinaire.   

We thought it would be funny when she meticulously combed through the pictures that there wouldn't be a serious one in the lot.

But, just like all things done to our parents in spite, it turned out only to hurt us...I don't have one good picture of us being serious in front of a monument in Europe, 1990. 

The New Prez

Well, he did it. He took the oath and starting tomorrow he will get to work. There's a feeling of optimism and relief kicking around the internet and surprisingly in the real world as well. That almost never happens. 

 Even my parents, who have a Bill O'Reilly "The buck stops here" door mat, are waiting with hopeful anticipation to see what will happen next. 

The peaceful transfer of power was actually peaceful.  "The birds are signing. It's a beautiful day. We have a new president. It really feels like the dawning of a new day." That's what Larry said when I saw him after he watched the inauguration this afternoon. 

(Can't resist the overwhelming need to remind you he's a tough guy after that 'birds are signing' line.) 

Though it seems so long ago, it was only last November that we elected our new President. I made this video on election day.  In case you want to relive it a little...

Tastes Like Liberty, Election Day, 2008 from Suzanne Broughton on Vimeo.

Do you love the artwork above? You can own one of your very own "The Prez" linocut by going to Three Fish Studio and ordering it from the talented--and I have to add dashing-- Eric Rewitzer.

Marcy and me

This is Marcy and me with our friend Goofy. I really like this picture of us (Marcy and me) because of the story it tells: Two girls of a certain age posing with Goofy at a Mom Blogger event hosted by Disneyland--but that's only part of the story.

I met Marcy online. She started to comment on my blog at OC Register.com and then made it over to my personal blog from there. She would leave looooong, detailed comments, sometimes complete with all the literary elements; protaganists, antagonists (usually some Mom at her kids' school), foil. She had a lot to say and always came to some clever resolution at the end.

She was a natural, prolific blog commentor, which we all know is just another way of saying she was someone who needed to get her own blog. One night, late at night, I emailed her to say I thought she should start a blog. The next morning I woke up and there it was: The Glamorous Life.

We have been good friends ever since. Because of our common love of all things related to blogging, writing, photography, and smarminess we have built a friendship that is familiar and warm, though sometimes we don't see each other for months. We float easily from blog world to real world. Once even having a an incident at lunch which resulted in me telling her to "Zip it." We worked it out on Twitter in our cars on the way home like most people. (What? No?) The whole episode resulted in her famous quote, "A friend should be able to tell another friend to shut up ever once in a while." Wise words, indeed.

Disneyland hosted a party for Mom Bloggers and their families this weekend as a special holiday treat. Marcy and I were there; taking pictures of our food, searching for the bar (which Marcy found in another room), and making wisecracks during the pastry demonstration. Both of us feeling "Disneyland love" deep in our hearts since we were kids, this was an extraordinary weekend.

So we both jumped at the chance to get our picture taken with Goofy. See how happy we look? We weren't fakin' it. That's joy. So when you hear people talk about the "evils" of the internet. How online relationships don't result in anything meaningful just think of this picture of Marcy and me. It's proof good can come from cyberspace...and also that we are four kinds of geeky, but that's another story.

*****

We saw Fantasmic on Friday night and it was Terrifmic! I made this HD video of the whole show.

Fantasmic Part 1

Fantasmic Part 2

Bern and Jen's wedding video

We went to the wedding of Bern and Jen last Sunday in San Clemente.  Bern is the brother of my sister-in-law Angie, who passed away over three years ago from a devastating disease called Scleroderma. She was married to my brother Rob, and we all miss her every day. 

This is Angie.

Yes, she was beautiful.  But, she was also unmatched in her kindness and never-ceasing cheerfulness. And her laugh? She could get a whole room laughing.

Tragedy seems to make the sweeter moments in life more precious and this wedding was proof of it.  Sure, I cried a little when I saw Angie and Bern's parents...and when I hugged Bern dressed in his tux...and when Jen walked out with her dad...and when I saw the little bracelet on the table dedicated to Angie...and when they played "What a Wonderful World," by Louis Armstrong (Angie's favorite song).   

Make no mistake, there was a little crying, but that didn't stop me from having a great time and making this little video. 

The wedding was elegant and beautiful, and so was the bride.

Here are a few quick notes about the video:

Jen asked me to video tape their first dance, and it's a proven fact, that no on can say "no" to those enormous blue eyes of hers.

My brother Randall thinks every girl he meets has a crush on him.

I see every video I make as a chance to flaunt the awesomeness of '80s music.

You have to watch the dance all the way through.

Enjoy.

Bern and Jen's wedding video from Suz Broughton on Vimeo.

We love you guys! Congratulations!

My brother's cheerleader

That's me, about 10-years-old, fully dressed in my cheerleading uniform for the mighty Huntington Beach Tritons. The Tritons were the Pop Warner team of my older brother, Randall.

The cheerleading squads were made up of the sisters of the football players. We were a mixed bag of trunk-legged fourteen-year-old, weepy six-year-olds, and future high school cheerleaders, who saw this as their opportunity to start bossing us future high school yearbook editors around.

I really, really wanted to be a cheerleader, but my fear of competition and inability to master the kick ball change kept me from ever going any further than the afternoon football fields of Huntington Beach that one season.

Truth is, I mostly just liked the uniforms--pom-poms, blue vans tennis shoes, handmade, pleated skirt. I have had a lifetime habit of choosing a sport by its uniform. It has served me well, because now, the only "sport" I participate in is walking my dogs (for which I wear flip flops and jeans).

That's my brother Randall. He didn't look like much of a threat on the football field, mostly because of his pretty hair. Even when it was covered with a helmet, his cute, sweaty blonde strands were still just precious sticking out the bottom.

At thirteen, Randall was already struggling to learn the delicate balance of being honest and sensitive--something most grown men still haven't mastered. I asked him one night after a game if our cheering helped him while he was on the field.

"No, we can't really even hear you," he said casually as he took a bite of his sloppy joe.

Me, with a jittery, pre-cry voice which is recognizable to anyone who knows me, barely got out, "Oh."

I clearly remember Randall looking at me from across our family dinner table and I know he understand that he had thrown a dagger at my inner-cheerleader.

In a clever move, way beyond his years, he recovered quickly by adding, "But we can SEE you out there, and that really helps. Just to SEE you there."

Nice one.

More Randall you say:
Happy Birthday Randall
"Every picture tells a story don' it?"

Dinner with Libby at Hungry Cat in Los Angeles

Last night...another trip into Los Angeles.

With a Mapquest perched on my lap Larry and I hit the 405 to the restaurant Hungry Cat on Hollywood and Vine. We were meeting our old friend from San Francisco, Libby Spears. (Please click here if you want the lowdown on how we met.)

She has completed her documentary "Playground" about the child sex trade in the United States. Libby's now working on distrabution of the film and building The NEST Foundation, an organization that will help raise awareness of the problem of commercial sexual exploitation (CSE) of American children and also create shelters for these kids. I know. I am beside myself with admiration of her sacrifice and commitment to this issue.

It's always fun to see her and don't let the stark, weighty nature of her work let her be mistaken for a "Debbie Downer." (Which she has unjustly been called at dinner parties after explaining what she does. Rude.) Her big heart, quick laugh, and easy, southern temperament makes her a fine dinner companion.

Libby is a professionally trained chef, so when she said Hungry Cat had THE BEST food in Los Angeles you gotta take it seriously. Everyone knows chefs RARELY say that unless it's about their own restaurant, so we were ready to be dazzled.

Hungry Cat is known for its cocktails and Libby and I both ordered this: Hot Tamale. It's like a margarita, but with all fresh juices and a nice big red chili pepper plopped right down in it. If Scott Glenn in Urban Cowboy can make something "icky" in his tequila look good, then so could Libby and I. It was the best cocktail I've had since Bing Crosby's.

Totally organic and earth friendly is Hungry Cat. "We don't kill the fish to get our caviar. We perform a c-secion on them, take the eggs out, sew them back up, and send them on their way," Roxanne, our waitress explained. (Don't worry, totally got that on tape.)

Given the Karma, the food was outrageously scrumptious.

We must have stayed at that table by the front door for 3 hours talking, laughing, enjoying freshly pressed coffee...

(Today's snapshot: French Press)

and me secretly waiting for Craig Ferguson to come crashing in, grab me by the waist and pose for a picture with me. Never happened-- but that was truly the only disappointment of the evening.

Every picture tells a story...don' it?

I have been wanting to participate in "Sincerely 'Fro me to you" blog carnival for weeks, but have simple been too busy. So since I am determined to avoid my responsibilities tonight, I thought this was as good as time as any to join in the madness.

Kristen at "We are that family" puts on a great carnival. We are meant to post a picture from our past and tell a little story about it. So off I go...and thanks Kristen!

This is a picture of my brothers and me.

(Rob, me and Randall, 1969)

See how my brother Rob has his arm firmly around my shoulder? This is the perfect illustration of his character and attitude toward me as his little sister. He was my great protector. Almost every picture I found with the three of us, he has his arm around me.

As a young girl, every night I would slip into my brother's shared room and sleep next to Rob's bed. When I was scared, just having him close was enough for me. I truly believed nothing could "get" me if Rob were there.

When I got older, he didn't shy away from me like most brothers. He would take me down to the Sunset Beach with him in the summer. Drive me around in his bitchin' Plymouth Duster listening to ELO and let me tag along to parties and to school events.

He even bought me a "Cars" t-shirt when he went to their concert, WITH his own money, which I proceeded to wear proudly to the first day of seventh grade. He was thoughtful. He was kind.

Weird--right? For a teenager to care for his little sister so much. He says now it was because I was fun to have around, not a "pain" like some sisters.

Umm, nice try Rob, there was more to it than that...

I didn't have the best dad in the world--not the worst, but sadly, not the a very good one. I think my brothers knew it and took the responsibility on themselves to help me grow up. How I got so lucky, I will never know. What I do know, if I am a happy, productive person now, it is largely because I had brothers who loved me and weren't afraid to show it.

Thanks Rob.

You can read about Randall--here..

LoRee Brooks at the Laguna Playhouse

I had written about going to see LoRee Brooks at The Laguna Playhouse at the Clean Comics Showcase--Here. I promised a video of her performance as soon as Jill got her technical act together--which she did weeks ago.
So here it is. Sound is a little low--so turn up that volume!

Finding a new home for my Uncle Bob

This is my Uncle Bob and me. He is 86-years-old and he is moving in to his new retirement home today in Laguna Woods! My brothers and I have spent the last week getting his new pad ready and I think hope he is going to love it.

Because I have been so busy, I posted "Songs from the 70s rewritten by the artists after they had kids" on the Mom Blog today. This was my list from -McSweeney's Internet tendencies Lists- it might just be a repeat for some...I did add a few new ones.

Lisa Mertins' Story today in The Register

Everyone, this is Lisa Mertins....Lisa, this is everyone. Lisa was the illustrator for "Alive in Wonderland" and, more importantly, is a good friend.

She wrote this feature in today's Morning Read-Help! My Husband Is Despondent Over Lost Love.

It is an amusing tale of being left on the outside of your husband's obsession. I slightly have this kind of thing going on with UFC, but Larry has yet to shed a tear over Chuck "THE ICEMAN" Liddell.

Please take a look and leave her a comment if you like it. She is getting a few people nipping at her heels-- not sure why some have to be so negative, geesh! (Expression Geesh is blantant rip-off from Nik. It's a good one.)

This is an illustration by Lisa of this Favre fellow.

Read it in the Monday paper

Arrrrr so late...

Message from my mom this morning, 7:03 am: "I hon, what do I see here in the paper? Oh-My-Gosh! It is this beautiful (it is my mom), talented young lady...We are so proud of you. I am sending this to all of my friends." And she will too.

The Orange County Register did a feature on The Mom Blog today in the Life Section. It had pictures of most of the bloggers and a little write up. To my mom and dad this was huge. I mean, it was for me too.

Here is Lisa Mertins reading the paper at Mustard's Cafe in the Circle in Orange today. She didn't want her picture taken because she wasn't properly dolled-up, though I thought she looked ravishing in a poncho...

(You might be able to see the Mom Blog illo on the front page...Also appearing on the front page, Keith Sharon's piece: Here.)

Lisa was the illustrator for "Alive in Wonderland" and she gave me this present today (complete with red bow)...

I will cherish it always. When I am hunched over in a convalescent home someday, I will look at it--placed next to my photo of Captain Gene--and remember her friendship (and how lucky I was to be able to write my own column--if only for a short while).

I am sorry now you can't rush out and get the Monday paper because it is officially Tuesday. If you really want one, I am sure my mom has PLENTY to spare.

I choose my (Cyber) friends only far too well: Marcy Photos

I've "met" many people within this "cyberland" of my blog. These "cyber friends" (okay, I'll stop with the quotes, so annoying) I get to know pretty well. One such person is "Marcy Photos" or just Marcy if you like. She is a regular reader and prolific commentator at (Emphasis Mine), which I wholeheartedly appreciate.

Marcy is a commercial photograher in Orange County (Check out her fab site here,) but she also has an artistic flair. She sent me this photo after I posted "My David Lynch Moment."

Seriously creepy, and when I say creepy, I mean brilliant. She educated clueless-about-anything-artsy me on this type of photography--it's called digital composition photo art. She went on to tell me this photo has over 15 images layered within it and sometimes these pieces take over 80 hours to produce! (hmmm...spending hour upon hour on something you are passionate about when you could be watching TV or embracing your responsibilities...sounds familiar...)

More you say?...settle down...I love this one. Would be great on the new OC Moms site at The Register.

Ahhhh so cute...and so true.

I know! She should have an Etsy store, but sadly she doesn't (yet). I also think she should have her very own blog on her "MarcyPhotos" site. She obviously has "the gift" of our special kind of gab.

"Perfect skin" by Lloyd Cole

Meet Little Henry As He Realizes His Lot In Life

My brother, Randall and my sister-in-law, Meghan, had their second child, Henry Norman, on Monday. 

I took this video of Henry just hours after he was born. As we all stood around him introducing ourselves, he looked at us in a way that seemed disapproving and skeptical. I love his reaction when we say, "We're your family." I think the reality of his lot in life becomes just too much for him to bear and he does one of the only things a newborn can do when they have heard too much--lose all control of his neck muscles.

.

View "Hello Henry: We're Your Family" Video here.

(The annoying laughter coming from behind the camera is mine...sorry.)

Isn't he adorable?

I loved that special time in the hospital just after I had my kids.  Everything was just perfect there.   I loved my little nurse’s button.

Buzz..." Can you please bring me a cranberry spritzer?" (Hoag brings them to you by the gallons!)
Buzz... "Can you bring me my baby?"
Buzz... "Can you please come get my baby, I feel a little tired?" (Ha! A little tired.)
Buzz… "I am feeling a little pain, can I have a little something?"
Buzz..."Can you come home with me, please?"

Oh, how I LOVED that nifty nurse’s button!

Tips On Baking And Getting Really Big 80's Hair: My Interview with Andrea Charroin

My high school friend, Andrea Charroin, has made the leap into the cyber-writer world and has her own column: Here.

About Andrea: She had the coveted job in high school of working at Camel Records in Huntington Beach, she had a bitchen' handmade "Sixty Eight Gun" jacket, she walked down the aisle at her wedding to the tune of "Girl U Want by Devo," and she named her boys Dexter and Felix (possibly the best name combos ever).

She is a dear old friend and here is my "interview" with her:

SB: What kind of background do you have in baking?

AC: I attended a pastry program in San Francisco and then did my stints in kitchens all over the city. I worked in some fancy-smanchy restaurants and a mom and pop bakery. I got married, had a baby and left SF for glamorous Redding, CA. I had my own bakery in Redding, it was in need of a great local place, and I was going to fill that niche. I had quite the little spot, but closed my doors in November 2006.

SB: How did your sister get her hair so big in high school?
(Here is her sister, Kristy, or Krispy, in 1986.)

AC: Do you think NOW is the time to out Krispy? Well, the secret needs to get out. The '80's are back
after all. I remember a lot of experimenting with egg-whites and sugar (ooh! a meringue!) and excessive
amounts of aerosol mousse. What I remember working most effectively was shaving cream and aqua-net hair spray. We affectionately called aqua-net AQUA-GLUE. I do believe that the blue can was more difficult to find and was of course more desired. I wonder if we need to buy back some emission credits from Al Gore with all the damage we did!

10 Things You Need To Know About My Mom

****This message has been approved by my Mom. She is great that way****

I was tagged with the question, "Write 10 Things About Yourself." Which is silly for me to do because that is what I write about everyday--myself. I did do "Knowing Me, Knowing You" post when I first started my blog. So, I have decided to answer this question instead, "Write 10 Things About Your Mom."

My Mom, Bonnie, 1960
1.) She is terrified of snakes--I mean Indiana Jones terrified.

2.) She "gets" me. For instance, for my birthday we went to the Huntington Harbor Boat Parade. You have to park your car and take a rented school bus to the boat. While we were riding on the bus, Charlie, my nephew, bonked his head on the window as he was looking outside. As he hollered in pain I said, "School buses, they're no place for children." I could hear my Mom (only my Mom) laughing two seats behind me.

3.) She can't just go use the restroom, she always tells you WHY she is going. Like this, "I have to go to the bathroom-- I had a big Diet Coke on the way over here." My brother, Randall, and I do this too.

4.) When she has had a few drinks her top lip goes a little numb. This is how my Dad tests her sobriety level, "Can you feel this Bon?" If she can't feel it, she's cut off for the night.

5.) She has the prettiest penmanship you have ever seen. Even on her grocery lists, every word is perfect.

6.) She sneaks wheat germ in all of her baked goodies, as if it is a balm for sugary foods.

7.) She still wants me to grow my hair out and get a perm. She will pay for it!

8.) When I was in High School she used to corner me in the hallway with a freshly dosed blush brush in hand--trying in vain to ruin my perfect Goth-like paleness.

9.) She likes animals, but is baffled by the way I treat my pets--letting my dogs sleep with me, under the covers! (Bonnie shakes her red head) She always says about my dogs, "They have no boundaries." As if that were a bad thing.

10.) She never complains. I mean it, never. Once, on a train to Austria, she had to sit on her suitcase in the crampted aisle with a white tank-topped Italian man leaning over her, in the middle of summer. I will never forget her sitting there, looking at me with a faint smile. It was one of those moments when you know, that the other person knows that is how you are going to remember them.

Robin's Two Little Birds

My friend Robin has started her own blog--Two Little Birds. I have taken advise from her on cooking, folding t-shirts and friendship for the last 20 years (is that right? It can't be...yes, I am afraid it is.)

I met Robin while hanging out at The Circle in Orange back in about 1985 (omg--more then 20 years!) and we have been friends ever since. We have taken long breaks to have "careers" (apostrophes for me), husbands, and kids, but we are tied with the bonds of teenage friendship that are strengthened by embarrassing hairstyles and long bouts of chain-smoking.

Here is a picture of Robin and me in our Bridesmaids dresses from our friend Caitlin's wedding. I like it because I think we look like 50's stewardesses. (Something I wish I could have been--we BOTH would have been perfect 50's stewardesses, aside from all the work it would have required. We wouldn't have liked the actual work part, just the dressing up bit.)

(We literally wore that MAC shade of red lipstick from 1986 to 1990, may it R.I.P.)

There are so many stories about Robin I could tell you, and be patient, I will. My absolute favorite story is when we were backpacking, with our friend Jana, through Europe back in 1990. We were on a train from Dublin to Rosslare to take the ferry to France. It was an old wooden train with big leather seats. The only people in the car were a troop of Irish Boy Scouts (un-chaperoned mind you) and the three of us. The boys were making rude remarks and running up and down the aisle “flashing" us... that sort of thing. Finally, Robin just grabbed one boy and planted a big, wet kiss, right on his lips. After she let him go, he just stood there—stunned—silenced by the kiss of a beautiful 20 year old. His friends fell to the floor laughing. Robin is the only person I know that could pull that story off... If you know her, you know exactly what I mean, if you don't, you should read her blog.

...and he said yes!

Like every little girl, I always wanted a Dad who adored me. Like Steve Martin in "Father of the Bride" or Mr. Bennet to Lizzy in "Pride And Prejudice." Oh, how I wanted a Dad who would sit on the edge of my bed and have long talks with me about boys, who would teach me how to drive and shoot a basketball.

Sadly, I didn't get a Dad like that.

Enter... my Step-Dad Glenn. My Mom married him when I was twenty and I was overjoyed. Even though I was just beginning my adult life, I still had much growing and learning to do. Glenn talked to me with respect, treated me with affection, and corrected me with wisdom and kindness.

Yes, yes I was happy for my mom to have the wonderful husband she deserved but, secretly, I think I was much more excited to have a dad. Too late for the staying-up-to-all hours-helping-me-with-my book-report-kind of dad, but just in time for the here-is-what-a-man-should-be-like kind of Dad.

What IS my point in telling you all of this? Get to it Suz...sorry, here it is--Today I asked Glenn to adopt me as my gift for my 40th birthday and he said yes!

(Me and Glenn my Dad last summer in Nevada. Isn't he just adorable? Doesn't he look like someone you would want to be your Dad? Why is my hat so enormous?)