DIARY

Biker Girl

September 23, 2015

This is my Dad, racing on the track at Laguna Seca. He is 70 years old.

For many, many years, my primary mode of transportation was a motorcycle. I've been on one since I was about seven months old, tucked into a kind of rucksack contraption on my dad's back with a teeny-tiny helmet on my head (this is obviously pretty crazy - not to mention definitely illegal nowadays - but was apparently more or less acceptable behavior back in 1981). When I turned sixteen, my parents did the opposite of what every other parent in the world would do, and signed me up for a motorcycle training course so I could get my license as soon as possible and join in on the family pastime. I spent the weekend at some kind of army base camp-type place, practicing my turns around orange traffic cones alongside the four middle-aged men and two twentysomething guys who comprised the rest of the class.

My bike was a yellow Suzuki Savage 650. It wasn't the prettiest thing I've ever seen - it was really yellow - but I loved it. I think you always love the first vehicle you own. I rode it to school in the mornings, and on weekends I sometimes took solo drives up towards Bear Mountain, my heart pounding as I took the curves on the Henry Hudson Parkway, my mind screaming don't fall don't fall don't fall. Riding never felt comfortable to me, exactly, but I pretended that it did - because walking into class with my helmet in my hand, I was The Girl Who Rode A Motorcycle.

Anxiety

Anxious

September 17, 2015

It's been awhile since I published my post Someone With Problems, about my decade-long struggle with anxiety and my decision to finally, despite a deep-rooted discomfort with the idea of seeking outside help, try medication (Zoloft, if you're wondering).

Now it's a year later, and so I wanted to talk about how it's going.

It's better. So much better, most of the time. But not always.

SNAPSHOTS

Northwest

September 16, 2015

Calgary Tower | Calgary, CA

On Me: J.Crew Painter's Tee | On Indy: Jacadi Striped Sweater

Where I spent last weekend: in Calgary, for my cousin Carrie's wedding. I only took Indy because even though Goldie is still free to travel with (kids under the age of 2 don't need a ticket), Kendrick couldn't make it and two children + one adult + layovers in Salt Lake City and Seattle = nooooo. And also: at this age, Indy isn't just "easy" to travel with - I'd rather travel with him than travel alone; it's just more fun (whereas one-year-olds on planes are a little less "fun" and more "madcap dashes up and down the aisle with intermittent screaming and people hating you really a lot").

DIARY

On Second-Time Motherhood And Still Being A Mess

September 9, 2015

Lately I just feel sort of...blah. I haven't exercised regularly (other than Mudderella and a forced stop into a boot camp class) in years. My nails may look worse than they have ever looked in the history of me. What I eat prior to the hour of 5PM (when I place a series of delicious things on the table largely out of a sense of guilt) is usually whatever fell off my child's high chair, and then at midnight I suddenly get ravenously hungry and consume things like Hostess cupcakes and string cheese and these gelatinous strawberry-flavored things that Kendrick brought home from the office, all at the same time. Last night I inhaled three massive neon-colored popsicles while fully prone and staring at reality TV shows, and while my husband looked on in horror at the popsicle-eating, fuzzy-legged thing that used to be his wife.

I need a haircut. I need highlights. I need a nap.

I was talking to Morgan about this the other day - this sort of general I-feel-like-crap-ness. As the parent of two children born eighteen months apart, she's something of an expert on the topic of exhaustion, and when I was done whining she said, "Of COURSE you feel that way. You're still in the middle of it."

DIARY

To City

September 8, 2015

San Francisco, CA

I was talking to a neighbor (and new friend), Alisa, the other day, and she said, "It's so crazy how much STUFF you guys do," meaning all those mini trips to wherever that we're constantly taking. And then she asked: "Is it because you need things to write about for your site?"

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