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No lie, Loca just ate my interview.

Looking outside at the thick carbon clouds menacingly shifting across the sky – I am thankful we thus far have avoided a repeat performance – but there is something sort of awful and awesome about this kind of storm when it takes over the atmosphere, mood and light.

Last night I was having dinner with my mom and we were talking about someone in our family and about their marriage. Mom said, “Why would…well, I won’t say it.” And I said, “No, what?” She leaned in and whispered, “Why would anyone get married?” And I laughed out loud. Having been married three times, I’m not sure I have an answer for her at the ready.

The other night, I was having dinner with someone who said his mother had turned against marriage after the second one and then was so dead set against it that when he was going to get married, he told her, “I’m going to tell you something, but you can’t say anything. I’m getting married.” Her response, “I wish you would have said you’re gay.”

Marriage is sort of like a romantic notion that perhaps has only legal benefits and no romantic ones. To say I want to live with you the rest of my life and share my life suggests that this life of mine might not be fluid and ever changing and that I might want to live in China and you in Peru and that one of us would have to compromise a great deal and life is so short, even though it’s wide, to make those kinds of compromises.

If someone has an answer to my mother’s question – why marry? – I’d be glad to listen – but as a marriage veteran, I must say I believe in love, profoundly, but I have my doubts marriage is the best response to love. Unless, one of you needs health insurance.

The week was known to be a doozy – as a matter of fact, I kept trying to refrain from the old adage – week from hell – and think positively about how great it is that I have a job that sends me to China and then New York and I speak to all these wonderful people – but good grief, today, today I could have just imploded.

But you know what – I picked up Jake today from school = he had had a bad day, a kid hit him, and he had some issues, and I realized that even little three and a half year olds have bad days -and so we all tried being nice to each other – my mother came by – Julie came to train Loca – now it is 8PM and I just had dinner with mom at Cafe Minh, formerly Lemon Grass – Larry made us Pear Cosmos and we had a delicious dinner – I had summer rolls and my mom had the soft shell crab and we split the lobster ravioli – yum. And now I’ll walk my dogs and try to get ready for the second half of this week from hell – or week in hell – and try to enjoy it nevertheless.

Hump day begone!

For those who give too much, you’re supposed to stop that right now. I received advice yesterday that was plain and simple – hold back – don’t give so much of yourself. I said I don’t anymore – not like I used to – these last two years changed me profoundly – I am not willing to give the whole enchilada – no one deserves all of me. She said, see how many times you have said “my fabulous life” in just one hour – three times – make sure any person allowed into the inner sanctum adds and doesn’t subtract from the fabulous life. Of course, I said. Why, of course. But then I narrowed my eyes and asked her, “how do you know if you are giving too much?”

Does anyone have the answer to this question – for the givers of the world, how much is too much? For the takers of the world, how little is too little? Are there answers in the back of anyone’s book on these questions? Inquiring minds want to know.

Dinner with a friend last night after a neighborhood watch meeting. As a lot of my friends have encountered post-K, in or out of a relationship, and stressed – she’s not herself. Au contraire mon ami, I told her as we drank our Albarino and ate that delicious calamari that Lola’s serves – well I said it in English, but the point I tried to make is she is herself and she is going through something right now as herself.

I sent her my favorite zen dropping this morning – Wherever you are in this moment, is exactly where you are supposed to be, no matter how things may seem to appear. This morning as I was walking through City Park with Loca, a man I pass most mornings and say hello, how are you, to, replied in typical New Orlean-ese, “Fine. Yourself?”

And at the risk that myself might be too much for someone to handle – I work on toning it down a notch or two – I listen to others tell me how I should act – I try to understand mysterious dynamics that are puzzling to me – and then I come out the gate as myself time and time again. It’s a risk, but what the hell – yourself might be the best thing you bring to the table.

L’Shanah Tovah – or as they say in American – may you be inscribed in the book of life. Tonight begins Rosh Hashana, the Jewish New Year, the year 5768 in the Jewish calendar. Rumor has it that God sits on a throne and opens the book of life for animals and humans and decides who shall live, who shall die, who shall prosper, who shall be poor, etc. That’s why, in ten days, Yom Kippur follows and Jews around the world fast to atone for their sins and wipe the slate clean for the new year. For the first time, I wont be home for YK, instead I’ll be in Shanghai and my day of meditation will be short circuited by this inconvenience.

Peace in the world, peace in the middle east, and health and happiness to all on this new year.

Steve writes that there is a Ruth’s Chris on the Big Island – whippee – why isn’t there one in Orleans Parish?

Macy’s said they might now go into Lakeside – oh, now they want to come back, after closing down all the stores. Pishaw.

It’s why I joined NOAC – I could have gone to Elmwood but then I’d be spending my dollars in Jefferson Parish. This parish needs my money more.

Up here in the tower, when the skies grow dark and thunder claps nearly scare you out of your chair, I think of all the years without “weather” in San Francisco – five straight drought years of sunshine and perfect temperature – and I wonder why people seek constant weather – consistency isn’t everything – what about the flash of light, the heartbeat of thunder, the rain against my window pane?

In a discussion about work yesterday, the trip to Turkey came up because someone had just told my colleague that they would move to Turkey in a heartbeat. He asked me what it is there and I said it was just such an enchanting country – the people, music, food, land, dancing – I could wax on and on about it – the beautiful way they integrate industry with leisure – the mix of Oriental and European that translates into a city straddling both continents – the figs – the language: Sana harika bir gun diliyorum, which means Have a wonderful day! – imagine sailing the coastline of Turkey and the water is cobalt blue and you can see all the way to the sea floor, and a man is cooking lunch, and Turkish music is playing, and you are reclining and dancing with your hands to the Oriental beat, and you are surrounded by beauty – perhaps this photo of Yusif on the boat best descibes it: