chanel
When I was seven I loved things like Sizzler‘s Hibachi Chicken, powdered Tang, and Target’s version of Keds.
But apparently times have changed, because in addition to my daughter’s requests for regular dinners at Crustacean (complete with bottles of Pellegrino), it appears that my 7-year-old is now obsessed with Chanel.
After finding this note in Maya’s room a variety of thoughts ran through my mind. As I’m sure you can imagine.
- How interesting that Maya wrote a poem. And it was of her own volition. Points for creativity!
- Creativity aside…I’m a bit troubled that Maya is writing about Chanel. At age 7.
- I really had no idea what Chanel was all about until I met Ali’s mom. And I was 21.
- How did I not know what Chanel was until I was 21? This just seems…impossible. I suppose it’s no wonder that I was such a loser in high school.
- Wait. This isn’t about me. This is about Maya. And the fact that she writes notes about Chanel.
- And noes? For the love of God…do we still not know how to spell nose?
- And what did she mean by “hoes” anyway? This should probably concern me more than her fashion preferences. Not sure why it doesn’t.
Things have changed since I was a kid. I get that. But if it’s Chanel at 7 what’s it going to be at 17?
what happens…
I really wanted to go to New York for Labor Day weekend but with my current work schedule I knew a trip across the country was out of the question. So instead we decided to hop over to Vegas again. With Maya.
Here’s what didn’t happen in Vegas:
- Despite my begging, we didn’t stay at the Mandarin Oriental, because Ali deemed it not kid-friendly enough.
- Aside from a few precarious minutes on the flight home (which involved me urgently searching the seat pocket for a barf bag), Maya didn’t throw up the entire weekend.
- We didn’t stay out past 10 pm.
- I was the only person in the entire city who woke up at 5:15 am.
- Neither Ali nor I gambled a single penny.
Here’s what did happen in Vegas:
- We ended up staying at The Hotel, which was much nicer than I expected, except that they carried their marketing ploy a little too far with The Café, The Store, and even The Pen. Yes, really.
- The Mandalay Bay’s “Lazy River” kept my husband and child occupied for hours on end.
- I had great sea bass at Bobby Flay’s Mesa Grill and the most fabulous bagel at The Cafe. Best part of all? I didn’t feel sick at all!
- Ali found a hair in his food at the Mandarin and planned to eat around it until I said I would throw up all over him if he did.
- Thanks to American Express’ generosity I went to The Bathhouse Spa. And for a change I actually relaxed.
Here’s the best thing about Vegas: When you’re done doing important things like watching the man “performing” outside of The Cosmopolitan Hotel with his middle finger up and a tip jar nearby? You can hop on a one hour flight and get back to reality.
And not a minute too soon.
a beam of light
I’ve known, for a while now, that something with lots of buttons and cables was going to make its way into our home.
This seemed inevitable because Ali hadn’t bought anything since a device he vaguely referred to as a “Media Player” suddenly appeared next to the TV a couple of months ago.
But then two weeks ago – a shipment of Cisco boxes. And a Sunday morning spent hooking up cables. And then an industrial eyesore under the television. With the bonus feature of a glaring blue light, which serves a secondary purpose as a beacon to guide one to the kitchen in the middle of the night.
- The phone rings randomly, nobody answers it.
- The phone features video capability, nobody uses it.
- This unit has a phone number, I do not know it.
- The phone indicates there are voice mails, nobody checks them.
So I had to ask the obvious.
Me: “Does this phone need to be in such a prominent position in our living room?”
Ali: “It’s a demo unit. I need to demo it.”
Me: “You haven’t touched it since you installed it.”
Ali: “That’s not true. I did use it. Once.”
Me: “We’ve talked about this before. Just because a phone is available on the market, doesn’t mean you have to own it.”
Ali: “Actually, yes I do.”
It’s been days since this conversation and no progress has been made. Not sure where to go from here. If only the phone’s shiny beam could figuratively shed some light on the situation…
While I'm not going to win Mother/Wife of the Year Award anytime soon, I haven't killed anyone yet or shot myself in the head. And that, my friends, is how I calculate success these days. 
FANCY THAT FANCY THIS 