murphyormel

wacky reflections from a nutcracker wannabe

Category: silly

“I was daydreaming in Mass and decided you shouldn’t talk in the car.” – daughter

thank goodness we have silliness to offset our vulnerable days.

And yes, we all have our own curious observations, but I feel drawn to pen/paper to share, 1. so my aging brain doesn’t forget, and 2. to validate we are all one in silliness….

– What is the new attraction to emoticons at the end of every text or Instagram post?  I recently found myself downloading very sassy ones (and actually paying $).  Seems like I’ve crossed into addiction.

–  One probably shouldn’t decide MID-tattoo that tipping up-front makes more sense than once the one hour, under the knife experience is complete.

– Why do I repeatedly have to tell my 14-year-old that “leggings are not pants”?  (And don’t judge me as a helicopter mom, my not so baby girl is 5’7″ blonde, blue-eyed, full-lipped, slender and looks about 21!  You too would make her change.)

– Ever notice we put food in a fridge that is magnetic, but we don’t use old style thermometers, because of mercury? (Again, it becomes clear why I’m not the sibling with the PhD in radio-chemistry.)

–  Why is it that those days when you feel a little cloudy or words don’t come as smoothly are always the wrong days?  Teaching last week, I was high on the flaky dial. Words weren’t coming, concepts didn’t land as I like, and I left my phone at home. As I finally had to admit to my class that I was not 100% “on”, one of the students noted my shirt read “Find your center”.

–  Why is it we all just feel smarter in a book store? Don’t even have to read, just drink a coffee and the magic happens.

–  Is it wrong for a mom- in advance of an early “hang out with the new boyfriend”, to give advice on how to french kiss?  No one told me in 8th grade, and Bobby Brown scared the hell out of me with that tongue.  I didn’t want her to be “Bobby Browned”, so I explained the technique, complete with use of the word “retreat” and “engage”.  Sounds a little creepy on paper now that I type this note.

– When my baby was little, I knew I had limited chances to coach a team that required real knowledge, so I signed up to be an asst. coach for 1st and 2nd grade girls soccer.  So, with a “how to” book in hand, work colleagues drawing me drills on cocktail napkins, and a positive attitude, I coached the 1-7 “Pee Wee Fireflies”.  No, we weren’t the winningest team, but I’m confident I received more hugs than EVERY other team with a dad coach.  Moms, go for it!

– What’s up with this bizarre magnetic connection to our phones?  Remember those strings grandma tied on your mittens through your coat sleeves?  Last night, my daughter came home to tell me she lost $20 in change from dinner at the mall, so when I asked if she had her phone, she said, “of course”.  Magnetic connection to a phone but not money?

–  Why is a pile of completed books on my nightstand an accomplishment, but I never once took a photo of the 30+ bags of leaves I raked every year for years when I owned my last home?

– Holy Thursday Mass: “I was daydreaming in Mass and decided you shouldn’t talk in the car when we pick up (boyfriend).”  Next Day:  “I’ve changed my mind and think you should talk. Here is what you can say….He plays hockey and…….his mom does yoga.”  Day after “date”, “Why did you say that?  If it isn’t on the approved list, please do not say it at all.”

And so my friends, I now know why chauffeurs have a plexiglass shield between themselves and their passengers.

Cheers to moments so curious they can’t help but make you smile….

Mel

you are only as interesting as your shoes

a friend recently shared a concept re. what we have in our shoe closets saying something about our personality…..is he correct?  Think about your own collection.

  • My favorite bright red or pink and assorted collection of Mary Jane’s say signature Mel and slightly quirky (perfect with tights and a skirt).
  • Knee high suede black boots with a smart heel (or any hot boot with a heel – the click is critical, ladies) make me feel confident and completely in control at the head of the executive table or leading a crowded speaking engagement.
  • My comfy Danskos say long day ahead, she must be in healthcare, and please don’t wear me with a suit
  • Barefoot says the mat is a callin’
  • Both the hot Harley boots and pink cowboy boots say sass and perhaps a little too much shopping at Chuck’s House of Boots.
  • Conservative Sperry’s that say she surely can’t be the senior professional who has multiple tattoos  (yep, my personal paradox)
  • Pointe shoes equal my love for the ballet
  • Cute navy heels show a little ‘toe cleavage’ – (I don’t know what they say other than I know the word “toe cleavage”)

Regardless, what does your shoe collection say about you?  Fashion forward, comfort, sass, sexy, confidence, professional, relaxed, or just plain too worn out to care?  Since my favorite and quirky Mary Jane’s are my favorite, it feels fitting to bring you up to speed on some recent ‘Murphy or Mel’ moments that are only mine:

  • Upon returning from a long trip recently and still dazed and confused about being back in my routine, I opened the door to the car, sat down, and closed the door…only to realize it wasn’t my car, nor was it anywhere near the same color.  Black is not the new white.
  • I created a hashtag for my daughter and friends after some silly photos, only to have the darn iPhone auto spell-check change #goforitgirl to #go forfeit.  Not exactly the encouraging empowerment I envisioned.
  • Purchased a darling new dance shirt for my daughter after a recent competition.  It spelled “dancer” in bold silver glitter across her back, starting and ending shoulder to shoulder.  Unfortunately, this ridiculously expensive shirt didn’t get her compliments, it came with questions about why she was wearing the word “cancer” in glitter across her back.
  • While in Massachusetts for a yoga workshop, I awoke to the very clear sound of a Midwest tornado alarm.  Knowing the drill, I grabbed my pillow and shoes and started calling for my roommate to do the same.  She sat up and with this priceless look said, Melissa, you are in New England.  (Apparently the same tone in MA is a call for volunteer fire fighters.)
  • Recently visiting a local store that sells natural oils, incense, silver jewelry and meditation resources, I walked out very happy with my purchases but with a distinct smell of sage on me.  A sage that well, had its own distinct smell. And of course, this aroma was not going away but exacerbated by my small car with windows closed as I went to pick up my 8th grader.  (Parent moment: Do I tell her that I smell like hashish, or do I let it go and hope it isn’t as noticeable as I’m trying to convince myself?)  Yeah, right – the minute she entered the car, she looked at me with wide eyes as if to say, what the heck is that smell on you?  So, as I have always done, I gave her truth. It just is. We both smelled like weed.

While not a shopper, I do love a great pair of shoes, and the stories that pave the way.  It doesn’t really matter what shoes I’m wearing, my life as a living caricature, and the stories that accompany are just part of the Murphy or Mel charm. Cheers.

Om Shanti,

Mel

The only place the head bob is acceptable.

I am currently sitting between flights in Atlanta- as I have done dozens of times before- and I must smile to myself at this silly, unpredictable, loud, over-stimulating, professional, traveling life I purposely chose to leave behind. 🙂

The bald man to my left is doing a full-out head bob asleep in a sunny corner as he awaits his flight. They just called for Nashville. Do I wake him up with sunscreen or the possibility he just missed TN? (And no, I can’t judge the head-bob, as anyone who has flown with me knows I too have placed my sleepy head on many a shoulder, stranger or not. Something about walking on a plane says, Melissa, no one needs you, the phone won’t ring, emails can wait and that darn 4:30am wake up call to get your arse to the airport at all, deserves a catnap.)

The young girl across from me is on the phone and clearly panicked about weather on the East Coast. What about travel misadventure requires her voice to soar an octave higher, quicken and may require a decibel meter reading? Apparently, they are expecting 6-12″. Lol, I still smile. My days of panic are long gone.

Folks are clinging to limited USB ports with wires draped over each other and talking as if old friends while sharing the ports (ironically) to text (not talk) to the people they actually know and love at home.

And is it just me, but is it an addiction when we need the communication medium charged at 100%? Anything less feels like we might lose our connection to the real world.

Even me….using my iPhone to craft this while listening to an old school iTouch with an iPad in my carry bag.

And the people watching in any airport (!!!!), fantabulous! You know what I mean, right? To be fair, I’m here in my fav skinny jeans, a pink shirt, black shortie combat (but cuuuute) boots with hot pink socks, a darling banana republic briefcase and my yoga bag, so while not a fashionista, I have makeup, comfort and weather-appropriate fashion and function for East Coast fun. It is great however to watch the breadth of fashion fun in airports.

Looking around right now…a less than attractive dog attached to a man with gold bracelets, the dog has attracted two young kids (unrelated to the dog or man) and they are petting him backwards (against the grain), the mom (unrelated to both the dog and gold chain man) is well, representative of all moms who bravely travel with small ones….hair frazzled, face slightly contorted, past exhausted and just tired enough to wear silly socks with flip flops and convince herself she can manage two kids, three carry-on bags and a car seat. Man, that is parenting. (And another validation why drugs during childbirth are key- traveling isn’t listed in the “what to expect when you are expecting” book.)

Cheers to parents traveling alone with small ones. I’ve been there, and it is always, always, always harder on the parents than either the kids or the people seated around the kids. Shame on you, professional snooty traveler who scoffs when a baby is near you. Get that parent a cocktail, and I promise the trip will be better for everyone. When my daughter was young, I used to offer to trade with business travelers to be near kids just because the mom needed to know it was ok to fall apart in peace. Thank goodness for computers on planes these days! Crayons, fruit snacks and a teddy bear aren’t the answer. And a shot of Jack, well, that is illegal.

Additionally observations on today’s ATL Concourse T:
– women over 40 should not wear turquoise nail polish or mimic the middle school fourth finger shade change
– how many coffee and bagels can people consume?
– before phones, did we let people know we were safely at the mid stop? (Oh wait, direct flights existed.)
– remember pay phones with sit down booths? And funnier still, the Ethernet line to get internet off the pay phone?
– we went from large ear phones in the 80s to buds to now, these huge Beats? Seriously, is Bieber going to market a boom box over-the-shoulder option soon?
– no one follows the “your carry-on must fit in this display”. Why bother?
– the “herding of cattle” movement toward the door as boarding begins. Enough said.
– is there a speed limit or again, noise limit, on those internal airport motor vehicles? In 25+ years of travel, I have never seen an actual emergency.
– Why is the large electronic sign of departure listings just outside the exit doors causing a jam of frantic, silly travelers trying to find their next gate?
– And finally, no matter how many times I’ve traveled or checked my gate or departure time, I still check it multiple times as if the number has changed in my hand. (Not unlike your number in a fast food restaurant, right? You are 22. Always going to be 22.)

High waters, high heels, cowboy boots, ball caps, backpacks, golf bags, paperbacks and jewelry galore…they do say “life is a journey, not just a destination.”

Safe travels. I have a flight to catch.
Mel

the opposing forces of my OCD and flakiness

a former beau pointed out the irony of never tightening the lids on anything remotely liquid in the fridge; thus, spilling on everyone other than me, yet every single morning, I make the bed immediately upon alarm (as if I can’t start my day until the bed resembles the Westin Heavenly). Poor man couldn’t even go to the restroom too early in the morning, or I might make him out of bed.

the concept made me aware of how else I live these two opposing forces in my day…..

  • Shopping to get ready for vacation
  • Asking where the ambulance will be parked for my second polar bear plunge
  • Taking a shower to shave my legs BEFORE going to the gym
  • Going to bed early only to wake-up, read a book and take out the dog in the middle of the night, then need my missed sleep and skip the early bird yoga class
  • Pulling the car to the side of the road to return a text
  • As long as my winter coat covers me for warmth, it is acceptable to wear my night-clothes outside to walk the dog.
  • Multitasking butt crunches while blow-drying my hair
  • Rarely matching in gym clothes (sure, a neon orange tank goes with a turquoise sports bra) but ensuring they are properly fitted to the activity, meaning cycling, yoga, sitting at Barnes and Noble.
  • Speaking of B&N, reading every book in the “hot sellers for teens” before my daughter.  And not because I am over-protective, because I genuinely enjoy.  I simply justify as my pre-movie screening of that which is to come.  (For the record, I’m one of those wacked-out, two-three book a week readers, so I do get my fill of the adult section as well.  NOTE: adult not “Adult”.)
  • Needing a nap after all cycling excursions.
  • Diligently conditioning my hair one-two times per week, only to realize that I was using a conditioning shampoo, not conditioner at all
  • Sticky notes, sticky notes, sticky notes…..but the note isn’t legit unless written with a Sharpie.
  • Driving to the coffee shop for the atmosphere and literary vibe but ordering a soft drink.

I suspect we all have a little bit of this same irony in our daily lives.  Perhaps my own candid ‘OCD meets flaky’ will encourage you to observe your own.

Namaste,

Mel

“Mom, you just make it awkward.”

Ahhh, the wonders of the 14-year-old vernacular!  And just when I finally get that funny, “fierce” selfie thing down.

Keep in mind, I’m not anywhere near the track suit type of mini-van mama.  I like my boots over skinny jeans, a kick ass suit with a great pair of heels, my tattoos, MC Yogi, and a manual transmission, so to hear my girlie-girl and make-up-loving, fashionista tell me, “Mom, you make it awkward” is slightly disconcerting. In fact, together, we chalk-boarded our newly themed, IKEA style great room to compliment a rockin’ red couch and black/white polka dot rug just this week. No framed embroidery or large silver plated utensils on walls for us!  But I’m awkward?  Lol, I prefer her previous comment, “…you are limited edition..”. 🙂

So, with “limited edition” in mind, and in the spirit of another grand year of silliness in front of us, please enjoy some unshared ‘Murphy or Mel’ moments……

– My daughter needed some teeth pulled before the braces could be completed, so of course I encouraged her to place them under her pillow for the Tooth Fairy.  She rolled her eyes, but she is 14, and well, come on, needs cash.  Rushing out early and distracted the next morning, I completely failed in my role to call on the Tooth Fairy, and no cash was discovered.  Well, I wasn’t admitting fault, so I fixed the situation.  The second morning, I left a note, cash and signed the belated note, “Congrats…..love, E.B”.  Upon returning home, my daughter happily announced, “I’m happy for the cash, but the Tooth Fairy signed the note from the Easter Bunny.”

–  Regular gym girl for 10+ years and practicing yogini for over 12.  But last year, I found a way to sprain my ankle AT the gym AFTER the workout while walking DOWN the stairs.

–  Traveled to KY last year with teeth intact. (there is a sentence I never expected to type.) Needed a treat on the way out-of-town, and my love for the Bit O-Honey caught my eye.  Well, it also caught the top half of an entire molar, and so I left KY without all my teeth.  Fitting?  (Sorry, Zac and Alyssa. UK rocks. 🙂

–  Last year, the entire family traveled to Tahoe, CA for a week of skiing/boarding, skating and snow tubing. Finally my old travels offered a perk as my standing with Budget saved us.  I had pre-booked an SUV for eight days in Park City, UT.  (and yes, I asked permission before hugging Dan the Budget man after he fixed a Mel travel misadventure.)

–  Pumping gas then driving away while the hose is still attached does happen to real people you know.

–  Just today, while (not) speeding home from Chi-Town, I was singing (not loudly) to old school Maroon 5, and I got caught.  Not the, “I can fake it like I’m on the phone”, the “Look at her- she is belting it out stare”.  Again, teeth become an issue.  This trucker appeared to be missing several.  But the wave, priceless.

–  Why do people insist on texting me while they know I’m driving long distances?  I need reading glasses to see the type on my phone or computer, so I have to live with that darn dot that says, “open me” when I can’t while driving.  It is like the itch you can’t reach, right?

Perhaps I really am awkward.

Nope, just lucky to be ok with my quirkiness.

Cheers to the silliness, laughter, humility, grace both when the jump rope is up AND down, and being confident enough to laugh over my OCD for making the bed immediately following the alarm but rarely tightening a lid for anything in the fridge.  (come to think of it, there might be a blog for the opposing forces of my OCD and flakiness ….note to self.)

Namaste, Mel

p.s.  Teeth are an under appreciated part of the body.  Until they are missing, folks simply take them for granted.

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