Music from CT Mom, My Voice Problems

I have to share this great video from my blogger friend CT Mom. She lives up near Hartford, but always drives down for the meetups organized by Kevin of Always Home and Uncool. She was part of a flash mob that sang “Hallelujuh” from The Messiah at her local mall.

I have to admit I had a good cry while watching this. I used to be able to sing like this before some devastating voice problems seven years ago. (Geez, was it that long?) I know the word “devastating” is strong, but every activity I loved- except reading and writing- was taken away. I had been singing in the Greenwich Choral Society, a glorious chorus of one hundred, and I loved it. Suddenly my voice completely gave out after a series of Christmas concerts, and I found myself unable to not just sing, but teach, talk at even slightly noisy restaurants, and read a book to my nephews. It was the worst time of my life as my painful speaking voice continued with no resolution. Can you imagine trying to teach without being able to talk? It was a nightmare. I would call my family on the phone, and ask them to talk while I just listened, because every word I spoke hurt.

I saw doctors, had procedures- sinus surgery, endoscopy, cameras put in my throat, a tiny capsule shoved into my esophagus to test for reflux- and nothing helped. The only thing that helped was voice therapy, and I am now only able to teach with a high powered microphone. That mic is the only reason I can live a normal life now. Even with the microphone, my voice still gets tired if I talk as much as I want, and I’ve had to restructure my teaching to protect my voice.

Before I realized I needed the high powered mic system, I tried to make do with a dinky one I bought at Radio Shack, and it wasn’t enough. Teaching was still extremely difficult. It was stressful and depressing to be struggling through the work day, then have to be silent in the evenings to save my voice for another painful day at work. I ended up taking a year off of teaching, and that’s the year I started Stamford Talk. That’s the one good thing that came out of my voice problems. I learned so much about Stamford, met so many great locals, and had fabulous Stamford Talk adventures.

I try not to think about what I still can’t do- sing, go to loud events, talk as much as I want. After the benefit thrown by Stamford Notes, it took 6 weeks to recover from the vocal strain that I should have recognized was happening, but I wanted so badly to enjoy the company. I take that experience as a reminder that if I want to do my job and still be able to read to and sing with my kid, I can’t go to happy hours. It’s a bummer. I skipped my staff holiday party this year because I was afraid I’d strain my voice. It’s still a fact of my life that I have to carefully choose when and where I talk, but I owe it to my family and my students to keep my voice healthy. That sucks, because I really, really love socializing, and I've had to give a lot of that up. Thank God I have writing as an outlet for my bounty of opinions.

CT Mom's video reminded me of how much I loved making music with other people. I don't think I'll ever be able to sing again in a chorus while I'm teaching. (I did sing with the Stamford Chorale during the year I took off. It went pretty well.) I’m busy with the kid now, and happy teaching, so I feel OK about not singing. I satisfy my singing urges with the amazing Music Together class taught by Christine in Greenwich. I'm completely addicted to it.

This article points out that 10 percent of teachers leave the field because of voice problems. When I was struggling, I didn’t know about all of the high tech options that would have literally changed my life. If you know any teacher with these problems, please tell them to ask their school for a mic system. Redcat system is pretty good. My school is currently trying out a few Redcats. The Vocalight system I use is better, but it's harder to install, and I believe it's a bit more expensive. Click here to read more.

Being "That Parent"

You know how you sometimes see parents do stuff you think YOU'D never do? Like letting a kid play a video game at dinner? Or letting your kid scream at the library? Or, letting a kid run amok, ripping stuff off shelves, while you chat with your friend?
Now, I'm not necessarily saying I've done those things, but I did have a moment last weekend when I saw a couple looking at my family as if we were "those horrifying people." It does involve letting my baby play an iPhone app at dinner, but let me give you some background.

In early August the toddler and I flew to California to visit my sister, just me and him, with- horrors- a layover. With the thought of seven hours in a plane, and an hour layover, I armed myself with all the things I could to keep him busy: food, drink, books, stuffed animal, and iPhone apps. Most parents do videos, but I didn't want to deal with bringing a laptop for that, since I didn't want to have to put it in and out of the backpack at security. I already had to deal with kid and carseat, so I figured I could make the iPhone work.

One of the apps I got for him is Talking Tom- a cat that repeats what you say. You can also knock him out if you poke him in the face repeatedly. Well, since my kid only says like 15 words, he preferred to mostly knock the cat out. Oh- and shriek at it. The app was a moderate success on the plane- I had to limit his time with it because of the shrieking, plus I was a little freaked out by how addicted to it he (and my sister's older 3 kids- yes she now has 5 kids age 7 and under) became.

So, cut to last weekend. We were out for what we thought would be a quick dinner. The kid, as usual, was doing great, snacking and being pretty quiet. Something weird happened to our order, though, and our entrees took 45 minutes to arrive. The kid had been in the stroller for a while, then in his dinner seat for an hour, and was getting restless and fussy. I didn't want to get him out of his seat because he's way too active and crazy to let walk around a non-baby safe area, so to calm him down, I gave him the drug- I mean, iPhone. He immediately became deliriously happy and started punching Talking Tom in the face. I noticed the lady across from me turning to look at my kid, then turning back toward her date, and then they both looked back at us. It was an "Oh my god" look, rather than a "Oh how cute and funny" look. I could totally see that she saw us as "those awful people that let their kids play video games." And even worse, a very young kid.

I feel a little bad about that, but then I think, "Whatever." I don't see how you can expect kids (and active boy toddlers) to do ridiculous things like ride in a plane for 7 plus hours, or sit in a in a seat or stroller for almost two hours, without doing something equally ridiculous like letting them play with your iPhone. It's hard to live a balanced life as a parent without doing a little crappy parenting here and there.

By the way, the flights turned out well. On the way out he slept a lot since he'd woken up at 3am to make a 6:45 flight- and on the way back, not only did we have new iPhone videos of him and his cousins to watch, he'd also learned from his cousins how to jump off stuff, so he spent several minutes jumping off the armrest into his seat. Our flight home landed at- ugh- 11pm, and although he was crabby, he spent, no joke, 30 of the last minutes quietly buckling and unbuckling our ERGObaby carrier. The kid's a champ. Click here to read more.

Avon's Oscar Films, My Stroller Obsession

I kicked off the Oscar season yesterday by seeing Happy-Go-Lucky at the Avon. As part of the lead up to their Oscar gala, the Avon shows many of the more obscure Oscar-nominated films. That's how I got to see the captivating, Sean Penn-directed, Into the Wild last year. HGL was cute but not as captivating- it should have been 20 minutes shorter. Go to the Avon's site for full film schedule.

There are 2 more Oscar events I want to go to:
1. Animated and Live Film Shorts on Wed. Feb. 18. The live action are at 6, the animated are at 7:45. (You only have to pay once.) Bring a butt-cushion and stay for both. (Or, did the Avon redo their seats yet? I was in the small theatre yesterday, and those seats were fine, but the main theatre is notoriously uncomfortable.)
2. A documentary about New Orleans called Trouble the Water- that's on Sat, Feb. 21, at 11:00am.
3. I reeeeeeeeeeally want to go to the Oscar Gala, where you dress up and watch the Oscars on the Avon's Big Screen, but that's $350 a person. Forget it; that's over 1/3 the price of the $900 stroller I've been coveting since my trip to giggle in Greenwich. MUST- HAVE- BUGABOO.

Here's a summary of the documentary:

TROUBLE THE WATER- Nominated for Best Documentary
Beginning the day before Hurricane Katrina made landfall, Kimberly Rivers Roberts, an aspiring rap artist, turned her new video camera on herself and her 9th Ward neighbors trapped in the city. Along with her husband Scott, Roberts continued to film their harrowing retreat to higher ground, the dramatic rescues of friends and neighbors, the devastation of their neighborhood, and the appalling repeated failures of government.

Back to the stroller. I get obsessed with things. Right now it's the Bugaboo Cameleon stroller. I know that's a lot for a stroller, but you don't understand how smoothly and lightly it steers. Previously, I was obsessed with the glass bracelets at Artistic Hand-Blown Glass downtown. I am currently obsessed with Biggest Loser. Before that, it was Lost and Guitar Hero. I have been obsessed with the color orange since my wedding. I had orange roses, and right now, there is orange striped bedding on the baby's crib. This website actually has the same colors as my wedding- orange and light blue.

Oh, and the bugaboo? You can get part of the fabric in orange. You see why I cannot shake the bugaboo.
I understand that it might seem grossly materialistic, but I say to you, you have not pushed the bugaboo.

Husband, just now: "You realize it's just a carriage, right?"
Silly, silly man. He was the one who initially acted like we might buy it, so I blame him for putting the bugaboo in my head. I was just gonna go Graco. Now, visions of bugaboo dance in my head.

Related Stamford Talk Posts:
--FEBRUARY 18, 2008-- Avon Film Festival Continues, and Into the Wild
--JANUARY 6, 2009-- Biggest Loser Season Starts Tonight!
--MARCH 4, 2008-- Mystery, Power: Stamford and the Island of Lost
--APRIL 6, 2008-- Weddings in the FC: Not Cheap, But Doable Click here to read more.

Stamford Hospital Rocked My World

I went to see a doctor at Stamford Hospital about this cough on Wed., and I left in a daze because everyone I encountered there was so nice to me. It was weird. I wondered if I just looked especially appealing (I did take the time to shower and put on a cute outfit), or maybe sounded pathetic (the chest congestion made it hard to talk), or if the staff at Stamford Hospital is just nice. I have to go with the last option. I was there for four hours, and I only experienced kindness and patience.

Parking lot attendant: super nice.
Registration people: pleasant, knew right away that I was the last minute, squeezed in X-ray patient.
Registration lady: insisted on wheeling me to my chest X-ray because I said I was short of breath.
X-ray Lady: super-nice to me, walked me to elevator after the X-ray.
Pulmonologist secretaries: super-pleasant, and you know secretaries aren't always super-pleasant.
Pulmonologist: nice, got a lady to hold my hand when I was freaked out by the naso-laryngeal swab he wanted to do.
Hand-holder: super nice.
Back to registration for blood test: nice, almost awkwardly so, because I had an embarrassing coughing fit when I tried to talk.
Blood-taker: super nice.

Granted, my standards for nice aren't that high. You just have to act like you don't hate me, and maybe smile and tell me to have a nice day. But in this busy world, people don't always even bother to do that, so when it happens, it's remarkable.

My second antibiotic has kicked in quite nicely, so now I'm just trying to make sure I don't overdo it, because it feels so good to feel good after feeling bad for 5 weeks! Still coughing some, especially at night, but I don't feel like dog doody every second of the day, and that's something to feel very happy about. Click here to read more.

North-South Relations: A Poem

For the second time in a week, I’m awake at 2am and can’t get back to sleep because of coughing and congestion. It’s 3:30 now, and this poem about North-South relationships is in my head, so I might as well busy my brain for a little and type it out for you.  I have to wake up at 4:20am, anyway, because I'm catching a 6:30 flight to Tupelo, MS.

A friend typed this poem out for me ten years ago when she was at a really boring job. My friend was my roommate at the time, and she is still one of my very best friends. She’s also an amazing poet herself. When you read this poem, try not to think of George Bush. Think of like, normal Southern people. This poem is about the strengths and foibles of both North and South, but really about friendship.

AN INVITATION TO JAY CLAYTON
(from George Bradley’s The Fire Fetched Down, 1996)

From the land of football recruiting scandals,
Barbeque and kudzu, creation science,
Military schooling and right-to-work laws,
Country of country

Music, come, old friend, to the land of mud-rooms,
Flu, and acid slush, to decaying factory
Towns and autumn foliage fanfare, pilgrim
Mores and pilgrim

Cooking, please come flying. Fly Continental,
If you must, but travel and take advantage
Of the miser’s welcome New England offers:
Taciturn greeting,

Shellfish, maple glop, and a local stab at
Wine. Alas, the syrup and wine aren’t always
Easy to distinguish, while conversation
Here and about is

Rather less mercurial than the chowder.
We must count on you, then, to keep the table
Lively. Born and bred in the South, where breeding
Matters and manners

Are a sort of spectator sport, by instinct
You will captivate the assorted neighbors
We invite to witness a rare performance,
Charming them silly

With your deep-fried flattery, served in portions
Just this side of fattening, with your gossip
Balanced on the line that divides piquant from
Legal exposure.

Later, dinner done and the others gone or
Gone to bed, we heroes can strive to stave off
Sleep and reminisce for a while, rewriting
Scenes from our epic

College years together, lamenting classmates
Lost or dead, amazing ourselves to notice
Dreams we formed in youth of devoting life to
Language have somehow

Come to pas, albeit in ways we couldn’t
Possibly foresee at the time, arrived as
We now are at homes and careers and family,
Come to this present

Peace, or its simulacrum. Jay, what pleasure
Can compare to memories shared upon the
Stroke of midnight? Call it nostalgia, call it
Civilization,

Either way, please visit. It won’t be like the
Old days, when the hunger that pounded through our
Veins possessed us, driving us into darkened
Streets toward sunrise.


If you made it to the end of this poem, I want to brag about my friend real quick. The year before she typed this poem out for me, she wanted to be in the poetry class of a professor named Charles Wright. He gruffly told her on the phone that the class was full, but to bring some samples of her work by his office. He flipped through them and said, “Oh. These will be fine. I’ll see you Monday.” The dude won the Pulitzer the next year!  My friend is so talented, and I don't always think she realizes that.  I try to remind her as often as possible.

It’s 4 am. I cannot believe I am leaving for the airport in 45 minutes!!! Click here to read more.

Curses Upon Norwalk, Halloween, and Traffic

I credit my husband for shepherding me through my foul mood this evening. I've been headachy and tired the past couple of days, so by evening, I'm fried. Tonight, my husband did not fall prey to my whining and pity-partying. He did not let me ruin his mood, and then he helped me blow up purple balloons for my Halloween costume. (I'm a bunch of grapes.)

The afternoon started off innocently enough. I drove to Norwalk at 4pm- only a 6 mile back up from exits 9 to 15- not bad, because often it's a 14 mile back up! I got my purple shirt (base of grape bunch) at American Apparel in SoNo, then decided to take the Merritt home so I could swing by CRUMBS and get us some cupcakes for dessert. DISASTER!!!! The Merritt was totally backed up. (See photo- don't worry, I was at a dead stop.) It took me an hour to get from exit 40 to 37 where I exited and took back roads home to Stamford.

Here is what I was thinking as I sat in traffic:
This is why I cannot ever live in Norwalk again.
I want to ram this ATT van in front of me, because my cell service sucks.
I hate everyone.
I am never going to Norwalk again. I'm boycotting it.
I'm tired.
I don't feel good.
I am so frustrated that I feel like sobbing.
It is a miracle of self-control that I am not crying.
I have to make my Halloween costume when I get home and I don't know if I can deal with it emotionally.

It's 9pm and we sort of finished my costume. I'm going to have to have my coworkers pin my grapes on me when I get to work in the morning. I certainly can't drive with 30 balloons pinned to my torso. Yes, I'm going to work in costume. I'm not sure I could survive the day in normal clothes, because I have to spend 7 hours in a building with 750 11-13 year olds, most of whom will be in costume. All you can hope to do is to out-crazy them. That's why I'm going looking like I have 30 purple boobs. I'm also hoping my grapes will form a protective Zen bubble around me. Click here to read more.

Leaf Piles: Fall, FC Style

I've got a couple of posts about food ready- one about pancakes and diners and one about an Italian food face-off, but decadent food is for the weekend. You can’t think about the weekend on Tuesday morning. I’ll talk about the other obvious thing in life: the weather.

When I drive around Greenwich and Stamford in the fall and see the leaf piles start to gather, I think, This is what it's like to live in a place with money.

When I first came up here from Va., all the evidence of money was astonishing: BMWs, Mercedes, huge houses, designer clothes. I’m used to all of that now, but every fall the leaf thing reminds me that I live in a wealthy, high-powered area. Where I'm from, you bag your own leaves. The town will take them away, but you have to put the leaves in the bags first, just like you do with the rest of your trash.

The first fall I lived up here, I watched the piles build. I wasn't sure why people were putting their leaves in the road. Were they hoping the leaves would just rot there? Were they going to bag them up later? Then, one day, a town truck showed up and took away all the leaves. That seemed so luxurious to me.

In the FC, the leaf piles say, "Here are my leaves. I am too busy to bag them myself. You do it." I'm not saying that's bad. I myself am thankful that Stamford takes care of my leaves; I’m allergic to grasses, trees, pollen, and mold. I’m not eager to bag my own leaves and breath in all that dust and dirt. Other people have horrendous commutes and don’t want to do yard work at 8 at night. I think most of us are glad that our taxes pay for leaf removal.

This is New England. Leaves are in the way. I get it. People want their property to look grassy, not mucky with wet, rotted leaves. It’s easier for a town truck to collect and dispose of the leaves, and it’s probably more environmentally responsible.

I don’t begrudge us our leaf removal, but even after 10 years up here, I can’t shake my impression that the magical way the leaves go away is part of living in an area where so many people are available to do things for you: clean your house, massage you, take care of your kids, tutor your kids, wash your dog, walk your dog, make your food, clean your car. I suppose I’d seen that lifestyle on TV, but I’d never seen it in person.

The leaves were one of the first examples I saw of that when I moved up here. Fall is great for so many reasons- the smell, the chill, the football- but it also reminds me of when I first came up here and had to get used to everything. Click here to read more.

Spider in Lunchbag: It Was Terrifying, OK?

This is not exactly on the subject of Stamford, but human distaste for spiders is universal.
Last weekend I couldn't sleep. I went into the kitchen at 5am to get a snack. I washed my apple, got a paper towel to rub off any leftover pesticide, then saw a gigantic spider in my lunch bag right beside the paper towels I had just used. (My lunch bag is a foot tall, so do you see how big this spider is?) I leaped back three feet and crouched down a little.

"Oh my god. OK. OK... how am I going to take care of this." I said that out loud, you know, to calm myself and make myself feel like I was not alone.

I'm not ultra-skittish about spiders, but this one was large enough to scare me. Even worse, it was on a soft surface, so I was unsure I could swiftly
a) smash it, or
b) cover it with a glass and use the "glass and paper" method to remove it from the house.
You can't botch the kill/capture of a large spider, because it would be loose, near your hand.

I stood for a couple of seconds, unable to think of a solution. That's rare for me; I'm usually good at spider removal. I ran and got my camera to document the dilemma. I knew I'd want to share and analyze the situation later.

I took the photo, capped my lens, then looked at the spider again. I stuck my head kind of close for a second, just to get a look at him, because he wasn't a type I'd seen before. No dramatic markings. I pulled back to a safer distance.

Here's how I handled it:

1. Gave the lunch bag a tap to assess his jumpiness. If he had moved, of course I would have screamed, but the tap also might have put him in a more capturable or killable position. The spider didn't move at all.
2. I carefully picked up the lunch bag, prepared to throw it far away from me if he budged. That also would have been accompanied by a scream. The spider didn't move.
3. I quickly carried him to the back door, undid the lock, and threw the bag out into the driveway.

Whew. For the next hour, I swore I felt spiders crawling on my neck.

I still don't feel that good about the situation. What scares the crap out of me is, How did that spider get in here? Are there more as big as he is in my house? Click here to read more.

I Was Not Aware of This Law!

Wow. I just saw this in today's police blotter:
* ____, 35, of 116 Crystal St., Stamford, was charged Sunday with evading responsibility.

What does that mean? Evading responsibility for... following the law?

I hope so. Because if it's avoiding responsibility in general, I'm in big trouble. I could be charged with this on a daily basis. You know, purposefully trying to sleep a little longer so the husband has to walk and feed the dog, or not paying my phone bill for another day, or watching TV when I know full well there are towels in the dryer that need to be folded.

Here's my real guess: evading responsibility for a child, or bill of some sort, or maybe a motor vehicle accident. I think they should specify that, though. Click here to read more.

Nothin' Much. Just Sayin'. Mellow Stamford.

I had a nice evening on Bedford St. tonight. Dinner with the husband- fast, competent service at Capriccio as usual. Then, I met up with a fellow Virginian at Tigin, where I ran into a couple other friends who were just arriving for Trivia. At 8:30, I caught half the documentaries at the Avon, and I ran into another couple friends. I walked through Tigin with the movie friends so we could say hi to the Trivia friends, and I saw a coworker. It's nice to run into people you know.

I arrived pretty late for the documentaries, and I didn't want to pay. As I opened the door to the Avon, I imagined being brave enough to try to crawl past the lady at the desk. She saw me right away, so I had to be straight up. "Hi, can I go to the documentaries, and maybe not pay, since I'm so late?"
"Sure," she said. I was pretty late, so don't try this just because you are cheap.

Sometimes I like to imagine myself doing things I'll probably never do. It keeps my life interesting. For example, when leaving Tigin and heading to my car, I imagined myself hurdling the wooden barrier between the parked cars. That would have been cool, but I didn't really have the energy. Still, it was a nice thought. It's important to consider all possibilities, just in case. Sometimes it feels good to jump over things.

So yes. There is no point to this post. Just to say that there weren't a ton of people out tonight, but there were some, and everybody was chill. Click here to read more.

Football, Pumpkin Spice, Blogging

Well, it's fall. I know it because I got my first pumpkin spice latte (PSL) this weekend.

If it weren't for the PSL and and NFL, I don't know if I'd survive the darkening season. The weather is beautiful right now, but you know in two months we're going to be freezing our butts off. Thank God for football, which carries us all the way through to the end of January.

The one bad thing about blogging is that it has gotten in the way of my fantasy football career. The year before I started Stamford Talk, I dominated my yahoo league, thanks to my clever snapping up of rookie RB Joseph Addai.

Last season, just after I started the blog in August, I joined a league with friends. Disaster! I enjoyed the personalized trash talking, but blogging took priority over researching players and watching games. I spent a lot of time researching Stamford, learning about blogging, and planning and writing posts. I wasn't able to give my team the time it needed. I finished really low on the totem pole. It was demoralizing.

Although my blogging process is now more streamlined, I still think I spend too much time on the computer to justify spending even more time doing fantasy football. Know what the real problem is, though? Work. Work really gets in the way of my blogging. It's a damn shame. If I did not have to work, I could blog like a pro and play fantasy football and still have time to go to the gym and watch all my reality TV shows. (I just added a new one to TiVo, The Rachel Zoe Project on Bravo. It's so trashy and great.)

PS- If you like football, you must read the book Blindside: Evolution of a Game by Michael Lewis. He also wrote Moneyball: The Art of Winning an Unfair Game, about the Oakland A's. Anyway, Blindside goes into why the left tackle is the 2nd highest paid player other than the QBs. Not the running back or wide receiver who scores the points... it's the guy who protects the QB's blindside. The book opens with Lawrence Taylor breaking through the book and breaking Joe Theisman's leg, then follows the story of Michael Oher, a high school kid with great potential. The book goes back and forth between Michael's story and the history of the left tackle. I feel like reading that book again.

What other football books should I read? I haven't read Friday Night Lights yet, should I read that? I love that TV show. Click here to read more.

Great Day: Tacos, Shopping, Morton's

Wednesday was a spectacular Stamford Talk day. The weather was beautiful, and no one acted psychotic while driving. I went to the gym, then to El Charrito taco truck for lunch. It was delicious and really fun to see who was lining up for tacos and other Mexican food. The owners, a married couple, are so friendly and dedicated to their business, as you know if you read the recent Advocate article about them. El Charrito is located right outside Beamer's Cafe. That location might seem odd--Beamer's is a strip club--, but local restos complain when the truck parks anywhere near them. Parking is easy, so drive on up East Main to Jackie Robinson Park and check it out. Only problem: there's just one bench in the park to sit on, so consider takeout.

After that, I went to the Stamford Mall to shop for the husband's birthday. I shopped so efficiently that I had time to try on clothes for myself. A stranger asked me for advice in the dressing room at Macy's. It was thrilling to be spoken to by a stranger- that's rare in Stamford but it makes life in the 'burbs so much more interesting. I also popped into the (insanely busy) Apple store and bought a new orange case for my iPhone.

I got a pretty but way too rich "Opera" cake at Beldotti Bakery on Newfield. I assumed it was chocolate, but it's more like a dry Tira Misu. I said "no" to a young, healthy-looking adult male in the parking lot who asked me for an "extra dollar for the bus." All I had were $20s, plus, stop walking around the parking lot asking for money, and start using your perfectly capable legs to hike to your destination!

We had dinner at Morton's for the husband's birthday. Food was the usual- good, but not exciting- steak and mashed potatoes and crab meat. I do think Morton's chopped salad is one of the best salads in Stamford. At 11 bucks, it's not a bad deal for a pricey place, and it has lettuce, tomatoes, bacon, blue cheese, hearts of palm, eggs, and a tangy Dijon vinaigrette. I absolutely inhaled it.

Something else remarkable about Wednesday was that I saw, in my rearview mirror, a truck with a Confederate flag for its front license plate. What??? A Confederate flag in Stamford CT? I almost pulled over so I could motion for the driver to pull up beside me and ask what in God's name he was thinking what the connection was. However, I thought there was a good chance the person would be crazy, and my husband always warns me not to do reckless things like talk to strangers.

Whereas Wednesday was great for Stamford Talk, Thursday was a drag. I woke up way too early (3:30), and the nap I took later on in the day was one of those terrible ones you can't recover from. I had to skip two fun events I had planned that night, and my husband had to suffer with my grumpy, post-nap self. I went to bed at 10, and woke up at 3:58 am today. I usually only need 7 hours of sleep, but this is getting ridiculous. Click here to read more.

Norwalk Oyster Fest Sept 5: Oak Ridge Boys!!!! And, Treatise on Country Music

Oak Ridge Boys!!! OMG I am inordinately excited! Oak Ridge Boys, Sister Sledge, and Los Lonely Boys will be playing at Oyster Fest in Norwalk. I saw the Oak Ridge Boys play at the Boy Scout Jamboree in Va when I was like, 10. It was so much fun. I like country music. In fact, I'm going to go spend some of my iTunes gift certificate on the song "Bye Bye" by Jo Dee Messina.

The Oyster Fest starts Friday Sept 5. See Norwalk Seaport's website for more info. Prepare to park far away and walk to the Fest, and for goodness' sake, wear closed-toe shoes. After a weekend of oysters and beer, you don't want your feet to touch that ground.

Here's Jo Dee:


Funny- the video looks old. The song doesn't sound dated, though, which shows what an amaaaaaazing song it is. If you don't like country, and you're not from the South, I don't wanna hear it, because you just don't have the life experience to understand it. I'm not saying you can only understand country if you are from the South. I'm just saying, part of country's appeal comes from driving along a two-lane road with nothing to look at and nothing really to do. To someone from the NY Metro area, that might sound terrible, but driving along like that is a great feeling. I know people who aren't from rural areas can appreciate country, but they've got to have the right, chilled-out mindset. Click here to read more.

Have You Seen My Shia LaBeouf in Stamford?

I can't shake a strange encounter that happened to me at the Stamford train station last week. Two quick notes to set up the story:

1. I spent all spring tracking down movie sets in Stamford, but recently filming has stopped because of a potential actors' strike. I've been really bummed out, because I had been getting very good at worming my way onto film sets.
2. In May, I wormed my way, through diligence and charm, onto a set at the Stamford train station. Major luck was also involved: my mom's train was late, so I was typing on my laptop in the waiting room. I could tell there were film people around- I saw crew passes on black lanyards around their necks- but they were darting into elevators and I wasn't in the mood to chase them around. Then, I glanced up and saw the location manager that I'd met when I visited a set in North Stamford. I shouted his name and reintroduced myself. He begrudgingly let me watch DeNiro do a few scenes at the bus terminal outside the station.

That all leads to why I thought I saw the star of Transformers and the most recent Indiana Jones movie at the Stamford train station last week.

I was sitting in the waiting room, about to catch a train into the city. I was poking around on my iPhone when I glanced up and saw a person with a black lanyard around his neck walking toward me- and he had Shia LaBeouf’s face.

Granted, he also had long wavy hair past his shoulders, so part of me had a good clue it wasn't really Shia- but another more imaginative part of me hoped I might be looking at Shia LaBeouf in a wig.

My brain froze, and I was stuck in a loop of thought: I was trying to determine if that was Shia (I saw DeNiro there, why not Shia?), and if it wasn't Shia, if he was a film person. He was wearing a black shirt and jeans like the film crews always wear. Even though I quickly realized it wasn't a lanyard around his neck- it was a phone earpiece wire- my brain still refused to believe it was not Shia.

As I was staring, he was looking back at me, but I was so busy thinking that I didn't have the sense to look away. As he was just about to pass me, he said, "Hi." Because I was totally staring at him in an unblinking, stunned way.

"Hi," I said back, unable to wipe the confused look off my face. He gave me an "Okaaaay..." look and kept walking, and then kind of glanced back at me. I think he was expecting me to say something else.

I felt so stupid for staring at this person, but he literally had the face of one of today’s most popular young actors. He must get told that all the time. I only believe it wasn't Shia because no one mobbed him. I watched him walk out of the station and down the elevator, and no one else stared at him, so my brain was finally able to conclude that it was a case of mistaken identity.

When Shia LaBeouf got arrested a few days ago for DUI, I kept seeing his face on the web and thinking of my faux-sighting. I needed to write about it so I can stop thinking about it.

Also, I was hoping someone knows who this faux-Shia is, and can have him meet me at Starbucks, so I can get a good long look at him, and compare his face to the real Shia. I MUST FIND THIS PERSON. Just because. No real reason. Just because it’s interesting. And kind of a mystery to solve.

For some reason, blogger won't let me upload photos tonight, but I'll try to get a pic up of Shia in this post tomorrow. For now, click here for google image results. Cool, it finally worked today 8/5.
Click here to read more.

Stamford Bloggers in the Stamford Times

There is an article in the Stamford Times about the bloggers who write about Stamford. The reporter, A.J. O'Connell, featured me, Blog Stamford, Mr. Stamford, and Joey K's Place. It's kinda cool that I'm the only girl; I attribute that to my computer-oriented husband, who first encouraged me to blog 3.5 years ago after we bought my first laptop.

Also, I'm just too chatty and opinionated to keep my thoughts to myself.

You should go to Joey K's blog to read about how his bosses called him in after the Times article was published. I think they had the impression that blogs were only supposed to be about personal things rather than current city issues, which can often be controversial. In Joe's post today, he clarifies what he will and won't write about. I like that he told his bosses that he certainly will keep blogging about Long Island Sound, ticks, mosquitoes, and other issues of interest the general public. Joey K's blog is cool because he puts that info in more user-friendly terms.

The Stamford Times comes free every week to all local households, so make sure you casually bring up the article in conversations with all your neighbors. Click here to read more.

Stamford Apple Store: Busy, Sloooow with iPhones

Today I went to the Stamford Apple store to see if we can recover data off my dead hard drive. My husband said that if they had iPhones, he’d leave work and we could buy two, since he broke his and stole mine.

Decent news: I have a new iPhone.
Bad news: My hard drive is probably dead. There is a chance we can recover data by sending the hard drive away, but Apple can't do it. Many of my 10,000 photos may be gone. It's my fault; I should have backed it up more recently than say, 8 months ago. I hate myself a little, but all I can do is learn a lesson, scrounge up what photos and music I have on my iPods, and move on.

Fortunately, a lot was going on at the Apple store to distract me. When I arrived for my 9am appointment, the joint was rockin'. Eight adults were getting one-on-one tutorials. The Genius Bar was filling up with people like me with troubled computers and iPods. I sat for an hour while the so-called Genius ran diagnostics on my 'top. I chatted with the Stamford resident to my left about public schools and materialistic people. The front half of the store filled up with elementary school kids who were attending "Apple Camp." An instructor shouted directions about making transitions between slides. A diverse group of other random shoppers milled about.

An employee said he'd know by 10:30 if they were getting a shipment of iPhones today. I clung to that possibility as a way to not feel too bad if my hard drive was shot.

Right around the time that iPhone delivery was confirmed, the Apple Genius broke the news that he could not see any data on my hard drive. I said, "I'm not going to cry." My eyes teared up. I fanned my eyes. "I'm not going to cry." Then I cried a little bit.

The Genius consoled me, I called my husband, and we determined that since Apple can only replace my hard drive, we’d take it home and try to retrieve the data ourselves, and if that fails, maybe send it away and hope that someone can fix it for a few hundred bucks. Apple is keeping my ‘top overnight to make sure nothing else is wrong before we spend money to fix the hard drive… which should not have gotten messed up in the first place because I treat my laptop like it is made of glass. I’m very bitter if I think about it too much. Moving on… to the delightful, instantly-gratifying Apple store.

By 10:25, my laptop was checked into the hospital, and an iPhone line was forming outside the store. I got a great spot in line, number 10, and my husband arrived. We had to wait almost an hour. I could not fathom what was taking so long... until it was my turn.

The employee signing me up did not know details of the procedure for switching from a T-mobil account. He kept walking away to ask other people what to do. He was also slow at typing with the stylus on the handheld machine the employees type your info on. It was painful. I thought my husband was going to lose his mind, but he kept it together. It took us over an hour- no exaggeration- to get signed up for a family plan and 2 iPhones. The woman in front of me in line took just as long; she looked like she was going to fall over after standing in line for an hour and then another hour as they tried to get her an iPhone.

I don't want to seem like an ungrateful beeyotch, because the entire Apple staff was awesome. Every single person was helpful; thank God, or I may have lost it. I was in the Apple store for 3 1/2 hours today. It was a long day. I was tired, I was hungry, I was disappointed about my laptop and somewhat stressed about spending so much on new iPhones.

At one point, when we had me switched over to the iPhone AT&T plan, but we were encountering a glitch in signing my husband up, my husband said impatiently, "Let me see your phone," and opened the box really fast. My brand new iPhone tumbled onto the concrete floor.

Me, matter-of-factly: "You just f*%#ing dropped my brand new iPhone on the f*%#ing concrete. This is gonna get mentioned on the f*%#ing blog, you know."

I wasn't angry; I was just saying. Click here to read more.

Stamford Talk: iPhone-Less, Laptop-Less, Sad

I'm trying not to get too upset that my Mac laptop died yesterday. It's less than a year old, so it's under warranty, which is nice, but I'll be laptop-less for at least a week while it gets sent away to be fixed. My husband thinks it's the logic board. I see the "Data Rescue II" and "Mild Injury Star" software on our iMac desktop that is currently trying, to no avail, to resuscitate my laptop. This is my second, out of 2, Mac laptops to die in the 3.5 years I've owned them.

Again, trying not to get too angry. I'm a Mac fan and I don't want to feel this rage toward the company that I'm feeling right now. How am I going to blog for a whole week on a desktop computer? Nooo! I have to sit cross-legged on my couch under a blanket!!!

My anger is augmented by the fact that my husband busted his iPhone installing new software this week, so he took mine to use while he tried to fix his. I know that makes me sound way too generous, but he bought me the thing, so I figure I owe him that one smidgen of kindness. Maybe after he reads this post, he'll see how awful the next week is going to be for me, and give me my damn phone back.

I am laptop-less and iPhone-less. This is hard for me. I had gotten used to life with the iPhone, and it was very, very good. Now, I can't even blog in comfort.

I'm taking my machine in to the Apple store today to be looked at. Something spectacular and blog-worthy better happen at the mall, or preferably at the Apple store, to make up for this calamity. I'm not worried about losing my data, really. I just miss my laptop and my iPhoto and my preset websites and my 3 email accounts all in one screen.

I've been trying to convince my middle sister to get a Mac (my little sis has one), and she was already dubious because she could not believe my first one died in just over two years. This current problem is only going to convince her that it's not worth her time to get a handy dandy Mac, and to stick with the same brand of the laptop that she and her husband have had for ten years and have had like, no trouble with, even thought it fell once and has a big crack in the corner.

I'll let you know how it goes at the Apple store. Click here to read more.

Bartlett Likes 10am; I Don't

Bartlett, why does your farmers' market start at 10am? That is way too late.

And, why does your classical music on Sundays start at 10am? That is way too early. Still, I'll check it out to see who is out for classical music in the morning.

There's a nice feature on the Barlett Arboretum and Gardens in the Advocate. (Note: I reposted their article on my resource site so you can see it after the Advocate rips it off their site in two weeks- yes, I am so very bitter about that.) We're lucky to have places like this in our city and I feel bad I don't take more advantage of the Bartlett's cool stuff, like their clinic where you can bring in your plants and get advice. I'm totally psyched for the farmer's market today. It looks like it should be good lighting for pictures.

For real, 10am for a farmer's market? Why not 8 or even 9? Anybody with a regular 9-5 job can't make a 10am time. I'm a teacher so I have summers off, so for this blissful 2 months, I get to see the outside world and re-learn what adults do during the day. (It looks like they eat, shop, and go to work.) Not being with kids is unbelievably wonderful. I can curse up a storm during the day, say what I actually think, etc. I feel so free. I'm bordering on euphoric.

Don't get me wrong; I could not have a better teaching job. My students rock and my co-workers are some of my best friends. But having to be a goody two-shoes all day kills me. If I have to tell one more kid to stop running in the hallways... actually, now I just stick my arm out and clothesline them. Why should I waste my breath telling them a rule they already know? Nope. You better watch yourself on my end of the hall.

See, this is why it's important for teachers to have the summers off. Things would get ugly if we didn't. I have, no joke, the patience of a saint, and if I tell you we need summers off, we need summers off. Even a month is fine if you want to get all anal and jealous and begrudging about it.

Lest you think my clothesline move is cruel, running is dangerous. The poor kids are late to class, so they run, but they don't know how to run carefully. They smash into each other, and sometimes, teachers, who aren't as resilient as children. One teacher got badly hurt by a kid, and another time, a pregnant teacher almost got run down by a boy who was bigger than her. And my clothesline move is done early, so they usually see my arm, and slow down. What's funny is when they either try to limbo under my arm or veer around it. Then I have to use my voice. Click here to read more.

Apple Store on Greenwich Ave: Are We OK w/ It?

The Stamford-based commuter blog Station Stops has the scoop on rumors of a new Apple store on Greenwich Ave. An Apple store on the Ave makes sense, I suppose. While traffic volume would be much lower than the Stamford Mall, it would be made up of big spenders. I like the idea of not going to the mall if I want to ogle high-tech stuff, but I don't like the idea of business traffic being taken away from the city with which I am obsessed. I want Greenwich people to have to come to Stamford.

OK, you got me. This post is just an excuse to say that I GOT AN IPHONE YESTERDAY!

It's a used one that my husband's coworker was selling, so my darling husband bought it for me, sneakily set it up, and put the phone in my hand, ready to use, when he got home from work. I'm still in shock... both from the glorious gadget that is now my best friend, and from how sweet my husband is.

I have been wanting an iPhone ever since I started getting busier with Stamford Talk a few months ago. Warmer weather = more Stamford action. I want to check email every hour or so to see if I have new comments or to correspond with someone who has an interesting scoop. It was getting annoying to have to ask my husband if I could use his iPhone while we were out at Capriccio or driving to dinner in Greenwich.

("You know, if you'd stop eating out so much, you could afford a house in Stamford," Always Home and Uncool said to me yesterday. Please keep on me about that, AHUC.)

The husband and I had been in discussions about whether or not to get the new iPhone coming out July 11 for me- rather, for him, and I'd get his old one. However, the new iPhone won't be hackable, meaning we'd be stuck with ATandT. We really needed a used one so I could keep my convenient, affordable T-mobile plan.

Fate, via my husband, brought this used iPhone into my life less than 24 hours ago.

(Oh, FREAK yeah, I see a neighbor setting up a tag sale! What in this house can I bring over to them? That reminds me, I think Union Baptist over on Newfield Ave is having a tag sale today, too. I work with the assistant preacher's wife and she is totally cool.) Click here to read more.

Yuppie Stamford: Vacuums, Blogs, Me

Um... I googled "yuppie blogs" just for fun, and the first result was a New York Times article called "The Latest Must-Have for Yuppies: A Blog About the Neighborhood." If I had any doubt that I'm in yuppie-ville, the article dispels it... oh, that and the reflection I glimpsed of myself leaving Target at 9pm Monday night with a $500 vacuum. (Already worth it!!!) I saw myself pushing the cart and thought, yup, Stuff Yuppies Like: expensive vacuums.

The Times article is about Brooklyn, but it clearly applies to Stamford: First come the renovated condominiums, the latte bars and the expensive baby strollers. Next, apparently, come the bloggers. Well, Stamford has new condos, and we don't push strollers because we don't walk anywhere, but we have a lot of bloggers. Scroll down to see my Fellow Bloggers in the right-hand margin.

Just like in Brooklyn, we Stamford urbanites closely watch what goes on in our 'hoods: One Web site’s survey of the prevalence of blogs in urban neighborhoods found a link between gentrification and the number of people who feel compelled to think out loud about the changes in their backyards...

Yup. I was all riled up about Whole Foods, and Trump Parc irritates me every morning when I stare at it on my drive through Stamford to I-95. Always Home and Uncool wrote about Advocate editor Joe Pisani leaving after Hearst took over. Blog Stamford writes about new buildings going up over town. Mr. Stamford posts about development in town, too. Joey K took furtive pictures of mystery construction that turned out to be part of a very confusing situation with the fire department. Manager Mom covers gas prices and recycling. Station Stops is all up in MetroNorth's beeswax. We are ON this city.

The leading Brooklyn blogger said, "This either means we’ve got a lot of creative, community-minded people in the neighborhood or a lot of recluses with too much time on their hands.” I think it's mostly the first one.

About that vacuum. I have a short haired dog whose white hair sticks like glued needles to any fabric. This vacuum has already changed my life and self-image. I can now host slumber parties and not feel guilty that my couches/air mattresses are near hair-slicked surfaces. Here's a pic of my dog with her boyfriend, Murray.


Related Stamford Talk articles:


April 16, 2008: "Stuff White People Like" Update: I Still Hate It

March 24, 2008: I Don't Like 'Stuff White People Like'

January 23, 2008: Whole Foods Mess Might Benefit Tawa

June 7, 2008: More Falling Objects in Stamford: Oh No You DI'IN'T, Trump Parc! Click here to read more.