Saturday, March 31, 2018

This is probably a dad joke

I bought my dad an egg separator.

This is not a revolutionary gift by any means. Like many things related to my family, it has a back story: For as long as I can remember, there has been a yellow, plastic egg separator in my parents' kitchen. It may have been Tupperware, but I'm not entirely sure about that. We had a lot of Tupperware when I was a kid (as did any suburban family in the mid-late 1980s). It was the egg separator of every Sunday breakfast and of countless Christmas cookie baking days. This model was great because it would rest across the edge of the prep bowls perfectly, making egg separating a snap. It survived at least seven moves, including a move back and forth from Hawaii. One day, about two years ago, the yellow egg separator disappeared. No one seems to know what happened to it. I suspect it was accidentally thrown away. This is the only explanation that makes sense. 

Now my father has not gone two years without an egg separator. A replacement separator was purchased, but it is not the right egg separator. It's a metal, wire version. It's not the same. I admit, some of my feelings about the yellow egg separator are wrapped in the constant wave of nostalgia I've been riding since we began cleaning out my parents' basement. I'm both incredibly sentimental about the things we unearth, which have been hiding in the basement for at least a decade, but I'm also the first one to say "throw it away." Some things, like the wooden salad bowl we used forever, needed to go, but the egg separator was being used and felt necessary. The new separator is totally fine; my dad's egg prep is still on point (he makes the best fried eggs), but he doesn't like the new separator. It doesn't work as well and it doesn't fit over the little prep bowl he uses when he makes eggs. Little things like this shouldn't be so complicated or annoying. Since the yellow separator went missing, anytime I'm out and about and come across kitchen utensils, I always looks at the egg separators, hoping to find something similar to the one we lost. I usually strike out. Until last weekend.

After our morning at Crumbs & Whiskers, Anita and I made our way back to Virginia and ventured to a random store called Hollin Hall Variety Store off Fort Hunt Road in Alexandria. Walking into this store is like walking into an old-store general store, complete with a penny candy aisle and weird knickknacks that would make anyone who likes awkwardly adorable knickknacks incredibly happy. It's the kind of place where you can buy fabric off the bolt, ant killer, and puzzles all at the same time. Before there were dollar stores, there were variety stores. As I wandered down each aisle, because it's a requirement to walk down every aisle in a store like this, I considered buying completely unnecessary items like buttons I'll never sew on anything, cookie cutters, a dinosaur hobby horse, and Nordic Ware bundt pans. I came upon a display of kitchen utensils that made the baker in me sigh given the sheer volume of possibility. Among the utensils, I found the egg separator. It's not an exact match to the lost one, but it's pretty close. I texted the photo to my brother and asked him to ask dad if he wanted it. Even if he had said no, I would have purchased the egg separator. He did not say no. He's getting an egg separator for Easter. That's a dad joke waiting to happen.


This isn't so much about the egg separator, but about the idea of finding the egg separator. This is exactly the kind of thing my dad does. Things get mentioned to him, even in passing, and they eventually appear. Sometimes he's legitimately not listening, but most of the time he's listening just enough to make it matter. A few Christmases ago, he asked me what I wanted and I, being the smart ass I am, said a unicorn. Well, he bought me a unicorn pendant. It's one of the few pieces of jewelry I wear regularly. That's the kind of human my dad is. What this episode has made clear to me is that I'm turning into my dad in small ways. Mention something random to me and I will find it for you. It might take me years to accomplish, but one day I'll be wandering the aisles at a time warp variety store and whatever you wanted will magically appear. You might not need or want the item anymore, but I'm still going to buy it for you.

What will be next on the road to becoming my parents?


Want something more Easter-y for your weekend reading? Check out my short story series "House of Peeps" - who knew Peeps could be so dangerous? The original story can be found here. The sequel, "Return of the Peeps" can be found here and here

Saturday, March 24, 2018

DC Days: La Vie D'Un Chat

When I graduated from high school, my parents bought us tickets to see RENT on Broadway. This was 1997 so most of the original cast was still with the show and I was over the moon (see what I did there?) to see the show after listening to the soundtrack obsessively for months. It was also the first time I went to New York. We saw all the sites and a bonus show, Miss Saigon. If you're not familiar with RENT, shame on you. Get yourself together and listen to the original cast recording, catch a production somewhere out in the world, or if you must, watch the film version. It's not terrible; most of the original cast is in the film too, but it's not the same as the seeing it on stage. There's a song at the end of Act One called "La Vie Boheme." RENT is a modern retelling of the opera La Boheme, set in the East Village in the late 1980s. The characters embody New York bohemia as only a musical can depict. The song comes at the end of a fast paced first act; the group is gathered at the Life Cafe and sing about love, art, sex, life, and freedom. If you aren't dancing along by the end of this song, we probably shouldn't be friends. You can watch the scene from the film version here.

I can't help but think of "La Vie Boheme" and the Life Cafe as I visit my first cat cafe. For some reason, every time I picture what this experience is going to be like, the image of the cast of RENT singing "La Vie Boheme" pops into my head except the entire cast has been replaced by bohemian cats. The song is now about the awesomeness of these cats living their best cat lives at the cat cafe. In this vision, the human staff clean up at the end of the day and leave the cats to their evening of doing cat things. The second the last human leaves, the Collins or Angel of the group snaps on the footlights (because this is a musical so there would be footlights) and the cat cafe version of "La Vie Boheme" begins. Eventually, the cats get distracted because they're cats and by the time the humans return the next day, the show has ended and the cats are ready to hang out with human visitors all day and nap. This is really why cats sleep 18 hours a day; they're performing musicals at night.


I am aware this is not how cat cafes work, but it is how my brain works so you have to just go with it. As I've begun the process of thinking about adopting a new cat, the cat cafe is a step towards finding a new cat buddy. Cat cafes are new to the US, having started in Taiwan in the late 1990s, but really taking off in the early 2000s in Japan. The cats are all rescues and can be adopted (Homeward Trails is the adoption partner for the cafe I went to). The cafe I visited, Crumbs & Whiskers, has saved over 1200 cats from euthanasia between its two locations and almost 600 cats have been adopted (between the L.A. and Georgetown locations). For a small fee (which goes to taking care of the cats), I get 70 minutes of cat cuddling time. There's coffee and snacks and cats. What could be better?


Crumbs & Whiskers is the only place I've ever been that is 100% designed to be photographed for Instagram. There are comfy couches, so many throw pillows, and adorable papasan chairs ready for a cat or two to take a nap. There are also window perches, baskets beds, and so many toys. The staff is super friendly and refer to the cafe as a giant foster home for cats. That's exactly what it is. For cats that have been rescued, the socialization process can be long and painful. In some shelters, it's why a cat isn't adopted. Fostering, whether it's individuals or places like Crumbs & Whiskers, gives every cat a better chance of finding a forever home. Sure a cat cafe is a little bougie, but sometimes that's okay.

Honestly, I wasn't sure how I would react to going to a place like this. I haven't had a cat friend since August and I haven't actually been around a cat since Pumpkin died. I don't have many friends who have cats, at least not in the DC area, so I haven't been around a cat in almost eight months. Would I be overwhelmed by the number of furry friends lazying about the cafe? Would I be sad and spend the time in a funk? Would it be the greatest day of all time? I was a little nervous that none of the cats would like me and I was unnecessarily concerned about what to wear. Anita and I joked that I had my nails done earlier this week so I'd be Instagram ready. This is only partially a joke.

It was a little sad at first. There were several orange cats (all male as females are rare; Pumpkin was a true gem) and it was hard to see them napping and hanging around. After I got over my initial shock, it was easy to hang out and enjoy the experience. The staff at Crumbs & Whiskers are awesome; they're friendly and enthusiastic about what they do. Visitors aren't allowed to pick up the cats, but they can and they would bring cats over and share little stories about each animal. I'm sure it's an awesome job and probably one that's incredibly satisfying. I talked with one of the staff about the possibility of adopting a cat; she shared the process with me and encouraged me to come back and visit if today wasn't the day. Anyway, the staff is a big part of the experience. They help make the place safe for the cats and enjoyable for visitors. After talking with two staff members and seeing them interact with the cats, I felt more comfortable and settled in to enjoy my visit.

The cafe has two floors, both designed for optimal cat enjoyment. We spent most of the time downstairs, hanging out with a cat named Captain Otis (definitely not the right name for him), a newer cat who is getting used to being at the cafe. He is amazing, has a super smooshy face, is incredibly affectionate, and handsome. People who think cats aren't affectionate have never met the right cat; Otis is that cat. We also met a lovely lady named Anne Wheeler, a beautiful dilute tortoiseshell cat. She's the mom of the cats and you can see how much she wants to take care of everyone.



Obviously, we weren't the only humans at the cafe. Among the other visitors were a couple, another pair of friends, and a group of college age students. We were sort of surprised that many of the guys in the group were just sitting on their phones, not interacting with the cats. If you don't pet a cat at at cat cafe, did you even go? I don't know the answer, but my gut tells me it's no. One young woman inquired about adopting a cat while we were there; I hope she gets him. A few other cats went home with their new families while we were there; it was a nice bonus.

Even though I didn't adopt a cat today, I found the experience of being around the cats soothing and relaxing. Being at Crumbs & Whiskers reminds me of the things I love most about cats: they're playful and shy all in the space of a few minutes. They're affectionate, but also might not want you to pet them. They find that sun patch and hang on to it for as long as possible. They sleep the day away and don't care if you sit by them while they do it. They're not perfect and they don't care. Sometimes they're cats, sometimes they're centerpieces (see the photo below). They're the best and they don't let anyone forget it. My new cat friend will find me when the time is right.

Anita and I are already planning our next visit to Crumbs & Whiskers and a visit up to Baltimore's Charm Kitty Cafe. I'd like to take a random weekday off and schedule time to work on my novel or some other writing. I'd probably get very little done, but it would be a great experience. Also, the coffee and macarons from Oliva Macaron were amazing. Check them out even if you don't go to Crumbs & Whiskers (their store is just off M Street). Nothing goes better with coffee and macarons than hanging out with cats. Trust me on this.

Now because I know you, I know you really want photos. Enjoy the pictures taken by me or Anita. And go visit Crumbs & Whiskers!















Saturday, March 17, 2018

Lazy Movie Weekend: Does having it all have to come with such enormous shoulder pads?

Remember Comic Relief? I don't know if it's still a thing, but I remember spending the better part of the 1990s watching Comic Relief on HBO. There's something about 90s era standup that makes me insanely happy. When I was younger, I didn't understand all/many of the jokes, but that seems irrelevant now. One set I remember was Paula Poundstone's 1990 set, which included a section about about shoulder pads. Someone once told her that shoulder pads were created to make a woman's hips look smaller. This whole part makes me laugh and laugh. Even today, almost 30 years later, I'm still giggling about this.  If you're ever worn shoulder pads, you know Paula's pain. You can watch the entire bit here.

I always think of this joke when I watch the movie Baby Boom. I don't know when I saw this movie for the first time, but since I was the type of child/teenager who reveled in watching age inappropriate movies, let's go with early teens. Diane Keaton is a personal hero of mine and one of the famous women who taught me how to dress like a woman. She also stars in one of my favorite movies about the October Revolution, which I watch every year on Valentine's Day. Anyway, Baby Boom is one of the most 80s-tastic movies I can think that doesn't involve a rag-tag group of teens trying to save a community center through dance (yes, this will be a future LMW post). It's not just the shoulder pads, although they are epic, it's everything about this movie. Baby Boom was part of a cycle of movies in the mid to late 80s which featured role-reversals for parent figures and focused on parenting as the central plot point of a film. Other movies that fall into this group are 3 Men and a Baby (directed by Leonard Nimoy!), Mr. Mom, She's Having a Baby, and the Look Who's Talking series.

What's unique about Baby Boom was that it focused on a woman in the role of the bumbling, inept caregiver. J.C. Wiatt, Keaton's character, has zero interest in being a mother when we first meet her. She's married to her job in advertising, has a uninteresting romantic relationship with Harold Ramis, and owns more clothing with shoulder pads than one person should own. She's the perfect 1987 power woman, complete with power suits, the right apartment, and the ability to look at tiny food in overpriced restaurants like it's the greatest thing ever. I love J.C. Wiatt. In 1987, having the female lead of movie not have an interest in being a mother, but to focus on her career and her lifestyle was both revolutionary and indicative of the culture of women at that time. Women were going to college to go to college and to go into the working world, not just for their MRS degrees. The 80s were an odd time if you look at female empowerment, the structures of corporations, and how success was measured. Women were trying to "have it all" without being the ones to define what "all" meant.

J.C. gets a surprise when Elizabeth, the daughter of a distant cousin, is dropped into her life following the death of the cousin and his wife. J.C. is Elizabeth's only living relative so she takes temporary custody of the baby from a delightful English nanny and proceeds to try to figure out how to be a mother. She has no idea how diapers work, isn't sure what to feed a baby (note: it's not pasta, but that is a great scene), and offers a coat check girl her credit card to watch Elizabeth while she has a very important lunch including more very tiny food and an old dude who owns a grocery store chain (he will be important later). She buys every toy at FAO Schwarz, but makes the decision to give Elizabeth up for adoption. The Tiger Lady, as she's known at work, cannot be a mom.

Of course, Elizabeth doesn't go anywhere. Adoptive parents are found, but they're the most stereotypical Midwestern conservatives ever, so J.C. backs out of the process and decides to be Elizabeth's mother. The rest of the movie involves her finding a nanny (Victoria Jackson before she got so hateful), arguing with a very James Spader-y James Spader over flash reports, and eventually deciding to leave New York and move to Vermont. This is after the senior partner of her firm tells her she has to take easier accounts so she can be a mother. He, after all, has a wife at home to do "whatever she does," so he can work 90 hours a week and call that a life. J.C. has to make a choice: career or motherhood.

Vermont brings J.C. and Elizabeth lots of things: a beautiful old farmhouse (that's falling apart), a nervous breakdown, an orchard (that will be the way to the future), Sam Shepard. It also happens to be how J.C. bring her Tiger Lady life together with being a mom. She takes the homemade baby food she makes for Elizabeth out to general stores around Vermont and sees an opportunity to create a small business that allows her do what she wants and spend time with her daughter. Of course, her success leads right back to the advertising firm and New York...if she wants it.

I think we all know how this ends. What's interesting to me about Baby Boom is how resonant it still is today. We're still asking ourselves questions about "having it all," but now we call it "work/life balance" and think that being busy is a badge of honor. (PS: there is no such thing as work/life balance at least not in the way most people think.) People are waiting longer to have children now, mostly for financial reasons, but also because we (and I mean the big "WE" of the world) are finally understanding that there is no magic timeline for how life is supposed to go. Not everyone is going to get married in their 20s, have a career and babies in their 30s, and whatever other things one is supposed to do on that fixed timeline of "success." It's not uncommon for people today to give up their work life and do something out of the ordinary, like create a line of homemade baby food or distill whiskey in their garage or become a cocktail apothecary. While there are still pockets of people, and by pockets I mean most of the white dudes in Congress, who believe a woman's place is in the home and we have to return to "traditional values," it seems like most people are embracing the breakdown of the life timeline.

One of the other things I appreciate about Baby Boom is the the elevation of woman's work into a multi-million dollar business. Not only that, but she's the one that will take Country Baby to that mark, not her former bosses. It inspires me to keep my dream of owning a craft collective/cafe in the back of my head. J.C. could come to Wine & Craft day anytime she wants. What this movie says to me is that there are no limits to what you can do, but you have to make the decision to do whatever it is you want to do. AND it's okay if what you want changes and shifts. Life doesn't exist on a timeline.

Next weekend on the Island: I visit a cat cafe! This is either going to be the greatest event of all time or I'm going to come home with 17 cats. Some would argue this is also the greatest thing ever, but I'm not ready to be that crazy cat lady...yet.

Grocery store image

Sunday, March 4, 2018

You can name a woman artist! And you can name a woman artist!

Happy first weekend of Women's History Month! I celebrated the start of what is bound to be a great month re-watching Wonder Woman and making homemade bagels for the first time. A superhero and carbs! I don't know what could be more perfect.

I also spent part of my weekend at the museum. I've been volunteering at the National Museum of Women in the Arts (NMWA) for almost five years now and have been a docent most of that time. Being a docent is one of the things I'm most proud of doing. It's a lot of work, from writing tours, researching artists, and learning about our special exhibitions, but it's the kind of work that's satisfying. I love spending time at the museum and helping visitors navigate our collection and learn about artists they might otherwise never know. It makes my heart happy.

Last year, the education department (they oversee the docents) created a new tour called "Nasty Women" and debuted it over the weekend of the Women's March. The museum was packed and the tour was wildly popular. Since the introduction of the tour, our educators have refined the content, written a solid script, changed the name to Fierce Women, and trained a group of us docents to the deliver the tour. Since I can't say no to new things, I went through the training and have been delivering the tour for the last few months. I did my third tour this weekend and is was the funnest one yet. The tour is based on the concept of museum hacking, where the normal art museum tour script is flipped. It's fast-paced, high energy, and a more irreverent take on art and artists. There's more storytelling elements in a museum hack tour and is really designed to engage visitors in the museum than a traditional tour.

E.V. Day's G-Force Dive
I am obsessed with giving this tour. Don't get me wrong; I love giving regular highlights tours and special exhibition tours too, but there is something so fun and different about this tour. It's one part art museum tour and one part performance art. Where else would I get to make a Lifetime movie joke in relationship to artist Suzanne Valadon while also referencing Gilmore Girls? Or how about calling myself a feminist killjoy while recounting the magic that was 1990s fashion? In the space of an hour, visitors are moved from learning about the first professional woman artist (Lavinia Fontana) to discussing Virginia Woolf's lady parts, and end with a meditation on what would happen if thongs became sentient and flew off the people wearing them.


One part of me knows the reason I love this tour so much is that people are genuinely interested in the content and participating. We consistently have fifty or more people on each tour and they come back despite the fact that it's the same eight artists each time. It's not uncommon for us to have a group of people waiting outside for us to open just to sign up. They bring their friends, they post on social media, and they ask questions. I've had so many great conversations on these tours and afterward; they want more. One of my group today actually said he wanted the tour to last longer because he was having so much and learning about artists he had never heard of before today. Success! People are more interested in women artists, in feminism, and in representation in museums than ever before. These things matter and if this tour is the reason they come in and the reason they keep coming back, then let's do more.

This month I challenge you to go find some women artists at your favorite art museums. Use the #5womenartists to share their works on social media. Champion women through the arts. Come see our newest exhibition, Women House, opening this Friday.

Coming to the Island in March: A very special shoulder pads/women having it all Lazy Movie Weekend, shenanigans abound at a cat cafe, and I attempt to make croissants from scratch on my own. March is going to be outstanding!