Friday, April 29, 2016
Thursday, April 28, 2016
Wednesday, April 27, 2016
The landscapes in my dreams are the homes and streets and beaches of my childhood. Occasionally, I dream in vignettes set in historical times. Often these dreams feel more real than waking life, even though they might be populated by people I don't know any longer or those who have passed on.
I am staying at a hotel for the next three nights. On the postcard left on my pillow this evening, there is a quote from Paul Gaugin: "I close my eyes in order to see." I would imagine he's referring to looking inward to know oneself or perhaps building a world from deep inside the imagination. For me tonight, on this pillow, I will relate his words to dreaming and the world that exists on the other side of that hushed curtain.
But first, I'm going to eat those chocolates.
Labels: sleep tight
Tuesday, April 26, 2016
"Mom? I scratched my heel on the cement."
"Do you want some Neosporin?"
"What do you mean?
"I don't know what that is."
"Why didn't you just say that in the first place?"
"Then you wouldn't get to know all those great words."
"Mom, you're weird."
Monday, April 25, 2016
Me: I can never get enough baklava.
Me: Halva's not gross. I didn't know you hated it. I didn't know you hated any food.
Him: See? Keeping the mystery alive after eleven years.
Me: How much do you hate it on the Jeffrey Rosenberg scale of zero to Guy Fieri?
Him: As much or more than my hatred of the Red Hot Chili Peppers.
Me: Wow. I don't think I feel that strongly about anything.
Him: You hate the word "cantina."
Me: No I don't.
Him: Yes you do.
Me: I think you're making that up. I don't hate things like you do.
Him: Really ? What about frisée?
Me: Oh my God, I hate frisée so much.
Him: And passion fruit iced tea? And plays that break the fourth wall? And all the songs! Zombie by the Cranberries? Oh! And Mambo Number 5 - the Lou Bega version? And Going Up the Country by Canned Heat? You really hate that one. And vertical blinds! And futons - except the ones in Japan!
Me: I guess I am a hater.
Him: You are.
Me: But I like halva.
Him: You can have mine.
Sunday, April 24, 2016
The Passover Seder in Bergen-Belson that shaped her family.
Do we even know when angels live among us? I love Prince and what Ms. Moon had to say about his passing.
Tend your own small piece of turf.
The truth about hospitality.
And this underwater iguana is super cool. Doesn't he look like a guy in a Godzilla suit?
Friday, April 22, 2016
It was a good idea. I had a plan. The plan required precision timing. I was picking up my dog Stella at the vet before they closed at 4:30pm. I wouldn't have time to take the dog home, so I would drop Stella off with my friend Karen in Burbank. I would then immediately drive to Sound City Studios in deepest Van Nuys to interview Ozzy Osbourne for a show I was working on. I had been to this studio twice before for the interview and Ozzy had cancelled both times. It was a tenuous situation. I needed to be there by 5:15pm. I could not be late.
I headed over the hill from Hollywood. It was 104° in the valley and my '79 Volvo had no air conditioning. In an effort to look more professional than I was feeling, I was wearing a suit and heels. I was dripping sweat through my wool blend and sooty furnace-like wind blew through the open windows and tangled my sticky ponytail. I picked up Stella at the veterinarian in Studio City. Fifteen years-old and battling cancer, she was a frequent flier at the animal hospital.
Stella and I were right on time and making our way down Ventura Boulevard when I smelled something akin to burning diapers coming from the backseat. I glanced into the rearview mirror and saw that my dear dog had unexpectedly relieved herself in the backseat and was slipping in liquid brown, resulting in a backseat and dog covered in awful.
I held my hand to my face, trying to block the smell as we crawled down through the rush hour traffic on Cahuenga. The heat was causing the terribleness to bake into the car. I gagged as I drove. There was no time to stop.
When I got to Karen's she handed me an armload of towels and took Stella away to hose her off. They say dog is man's best friend. I would like to add that woman's best friend is the one who will wash the crap off of said dog.
Gagging, I got onto the freeway and headed to the recording studio. When I arrived, I waved off the valet and parked the car myself because I was kind and also mortified. When I finally made it inside the building, I met my camera crew. We spent about 45 minutes setting up the lights and equipment, just in time for Ozzy's publicist to call and let us know that the interview would have to be postponed again.
Back in the Little Volvo of Horrors, I returned to Burbank and drove into a car wash at closing time. I tried in my best Spanish, to explain to the guys that I needed and emergency interior detail. I backed it up by trying to explain, "No mi popó, esta popó de pero." I'm not sure they believed me but they heroically shampooed the back of the car and I handed them the entire contents of my wallet.
I picked up my gal and drove my damp self and my damp dog in my damp car back home. I finally interviewed Ozzy three days later. He was charming. I left the dog at home.
To read about more "Good Ideas," check out these posts by some of my favorite bloggers:
Labels: our dog is a cat person
Thursday, April 21, 2016
Before we met, I read Mr. R's (extremely) long list of musical "likes" on his online dating profile. His list included many (many) artists I'd never heard of, but we did overlap on one: Prince. It was the first thing I knew we had in common. I was thrilled to take Mr. Rosenberg to his first ever Prince concert in 2011.
Later, when Mr. Rosenberg had me listen to the song "I Don't Recall" while he and Lavender Diamond were working on it, I heard Mr. R's guitar part kick in and I smiled, "Prince!" It's a sweet, sad, folky song with a little bit of Prince magic thrown in. This song will forever remind me of my husband's love for The Purple One. A live version of the song is below. We will miss you, Prince.
Life is just a party, and parties weren't meant to last.
Wednesday, April 20, 2016
"This game is so cool, Mom. Like, right now I'm playing against Emma from my class. She's on here at the same time. She just wrote, 'Hi' to me."
"I didn't know you could talk to each other on that. Are all of your friends on that game kids from your class?"
"There's a couple of people on here that I don't know who they are."
"You can't play a game that allows you to have conversations with strangers, Bob."
"Because they might be creepy people?"
"Exactly. There are creepy people who will pretend to be your friend and bad stuff can go down."
"That's scary. Did you hear about that on the news?"
"And other places. Show me your friends on the game, honey, and we'll get rid of the people you don't know."
"Definitely. I don't want to be on the news. Not like that."
Tuesday, April 19, 2016
Monday, April 18, 2016
Labels: Mr. Rosenberg
Sunday, April 17, 2016
Saturday, April 16, 2016
Friday, April 15, 2016
In Bob's class, one of the assignments is to write a new essay every week. Every Monday, Mrs. Wilson assigns a letter of the alphabet and the topic of the essays have to begin with that letter. This week's letter is "J." For his essay topic, Bob chose his dad, Jeffrey Rosenberg.
Do you know who is the guitarist in Lavender Diamond? My Dad (a.k.a. Jeffrey Rosenberg)! He has played in a lot of bands. The bands are from, California, New York, and Rhode Island.
He was born in East Lansing, MI. He was born on June 21, 1974. He left Lavender Diamond in April 2007 to focus on work and family, but returned to make another record in 2012. He is currently working as a Technical Director at Hulu. His wife is Lisa Rosenberg.
He went to college at Brown University. His degree was in Biology with a minor in Math. After school, he went on to become a software developer in San Francisco.
When I asked my dad what his favorite food was, he said, “strawberry rhubarb pie.” For fun (and exercise), he likes to train for triathlons. His favorite thing to do with me is play soccer.
He plays these instruments: guitar, bass, drums, voice, and piano. He has been active in music for more than 20 years. I wrote about my dad because I didn’t realize how cool and smart he is!
Labels: Mr. Rosenberg
Thursday, April 14, 2016
Wednesday, April 13, 2016
Tuesday, April 12, 2016
Monday, April 11, 2016
If you've been following me for awhile, you may remember my old car, The Democrat. Driving this blue guy around town made me miss my old brown 4-door. Today, in memory of The Democrat, I listened to some Fiona Apple really loud on the freeway. Maybe tomorrow I'll really turn up the 90s with Livin La Vida Loca and Genie In a Bottle.
No, I won't.
Labels: car talks
Sunday, April 10, 2016
Saturday, April 9, 2016
Friday, April 8, 2016
Thursday, April 7, 2016
"Mom? How old do I have to be for you to leave me alone in the house?"
"I don't know. Twenty-five?"
"It depends on a lot of things: Your maturity level... how responsible you are... if you're carrying your own liability insurance...
"Is this one of those times when you're just saying stuff to try to be funny?"
Wednesday, April 6, 2016
Tuesday, April 5, 2016
"Mom? Did you see that sign? If you get caught texting while you drive, it costs one hundred sixty-one dollars."
"I don't text while I'm driving."
"I know. It's super expensive."
"Yeah, when I learn to drive, if I ever text while I'm driving I'm going to go straight to the police station and give them the money. I would have to give myself a consequence 'cause you can't just go around doing that. Plus I can't afford it because I've only got twenty-eight dollars and seventeen cents and I'm spending that on college... and Legos."
Labels: car talks
Monday, April 4, 2016
Sunday, April 3, 2016
Saturday, April 2, 2016
Friday, April 1, 2016
Mr. Rosenberg and I are sitting here in the living room trying to remember the last time we had a date night. A night with a meal and an event sans small chaperone. Elementary school parent functions do not count. We can't come up with anything. How did we let this happen?
Tonight! Tonight Mr. R. and I will be traveling up to Santa Barbara to have dinner and see a concert. Bob will be home with my mom. Delightful food (cooked by not me) and Elvis Costello await us. More importantly, grown up conversation will be happening, at least most of the time.
I'm afraid I won't know how to act in a grown up situation. I'm going to wing it.
And I'll order appetizers.
And delicious overpriced coffee.
And hear Alison.
It's going to be a good night.