Trois Mec-A Non-Foodie’s Food Review

Trois Mec (go figure)

Don’t let the Raffallo’s Pizza sign in a raggedy Highland Avenue strip mall fool you.  Open the door to the restaurant behind those shaded windows and say “Bonsoir!” to Trois Mec, a super cool, super different, super hidden new Los Angeles restaurant.  You can only get a reservation by calling promptly at 8am every other Friday–hope to be one of the chosen ones?–and be ready to pay your $75 bucks a head up front (plus tax and tip).   Then show up at the right time and let the locally sourced menu unfold like a secret treasure.  

Mother’s Day On PhotoBotos!

Blue Skies In Seattle

Mother’s Day weekend was spent in Seattle visiting Aunt Simone.  On an unusually clear 80 degree day we cruised the fish market and indulged in crab legs and truffle salt.

Taking The Perfect Out Of Perfect

Perfect Raindrops

My friend Margaret visited me recently, the eldest daughter of my mother’s oldest friend.   As kids we were tight—secretly, I yearned to be her, envious of her luxurious dark hair and comfortable, instinctive grace —but the years had left our friendship dusty, propped up solely by old memories.  Now, I see Margaret’s re-entry into my life as a death benefit of sorts, our closeness renewed by my mother’s slow, elegant exit from this world.

The Price You Pay

Lady Liberty

My mom should have given me her jewelry long before she got sick.  Not the wedding ring and gold necklace she always wore, but the pieces she kept squirreled away to give her daughters–or her grandchildren–at a later date. This would have saved me from adding “new and reluctant jewelry owner” to the list of crappy titles conferred when she died: orphan, mourner, and emotional basket case.  I hold her Lady Liberty coin medallion in my palm–the one that conjures up the way she looked during my high school years–and wait as the precious metal warms to body temperature.  What a fool I am to hope to find something of her in it. 

We Are The Champions

The Red Hot Rods

Griffin’s soccer team lost every game but one this season.  Disappointing for him, sure, but excruciating for us parents.  “Be aggressive!” is what my competitive heart yearned to yell from the sidelines.  “Get the #$%-ing ball!”  But did I really want to be that kind of soccer mom?  Um.. well.. ok… no, I didn’t.  But it was  hard to stay either quiet or positive.

The boys, however, took being league losers in stride, these six and seven year olds still in that ephemeral place where winning isn’t everything.  As the other parents and I walked off the field, some of our kids started singing, arms looped around each other’s shoulders in an uplifting show of camaraderie.

“We are the losers… we are the LOSERS!” they sang, perfectly off-key.  “No time for winning, ‘cause we are THE LOSERS……. OF THE WORLD!”

I smiled.  First, how cool that these boys knew one of the best songs of my youth?  And second, making the best out of whatever life dishes out is one of the most useful lessons a kid can learn–and makes each one of them a champion.

Having A Ball

Womb Service: How Surrogacy Can Go Right–Or Wrong

The Gift Of Life

It’s no secret that five years ago my second son was born via a surrogate mother.  We had the best experience in this realm of weird science, but that’s not always the case.  Today, the business of having someone else’s baby is booming, but the lack of regulation around the surrogacy industry has led to it become something of a free-for-all.  Read my story Surrogacy: Joyful, Frightening, Always Risky at TheAtlantic.com–it’s about how some couples receive the gift of life while others are scammed out of it.

High Tech Kids

The World Has Lost Her Way

Heart Of Darkness

I am sick at heart.  Bombs at the Boston Marathon?  That’s low even for idiot terrorists.  It’s not particularly creative, nor difficult, nor, apparently, all that effective–if taking the most lives was the goal.  Instead, let’s call it cowardly, desperate, hateful, and crazy.