the spiral life

Merry Christmas

2009-02-10T01:13:00.000-05:00

I confess: I cheated. The whole purpose of this blog was to keep our friends and family up to date on our many goings-on, to share the news that's sometimes awkward to share, like our struggles with infertility. But when it came down to it, I had trouble writing down some of the biggest breaking news, like the results of our first pregnancy test...which actually came on December 23rd.

Yup, that's only 11 days after the ZIFT procedure. I had been warned not to take a home pregnancy test, because they're not always accurate that early, and my nurse actually went through emotional hell herself when she was going through IVF and peed on a stick and initially got a negative result -- when in fact she was pregnant.

Somehow I managed to stay calm until the 23rd, and calmly went in for my blood test that morning. Then my dad (who was visiting!) and I went down to Palos Verdes to have lunch with Hana and her parents, which was quite lovely and a perfect distraction. The test results were going to be in that afternoon, around four, so I left my cell phone turned off -- I just couldn't deal with the prospect of answering the phone in front of ANYBODY and getting news of a negative result. I asked that the nurse leave a message instead, which Mark and I could then listen to in private.

But...when I checked my messages... nothing. And Mark tells me the only message he heard, on our home machine, was the nurse saying, "call us." I had asked them to leave me a message with the results, so this was all very vexing. And wouldncha know it, it's after 5pm and no one's picking up at the clinic.

So, nerves drawn tighter than ever, I emailed both my nurses in hopes that someone would get our plea for an answer.

Within the hour.... I had it: we were pregnant.

Cheers! Champagne!

...sort of. It was INFINITELY better news than NOT pregnant. As good a start as we could hope for. Christmas was not the nightmare I thought it might be. But looming in the next two weeks were more blood tests, to a) confirm we're still pregnant and b) make sure my hormones were rising appropriately -- i.e. at least doubling, every three days.

There was nothing to do but hold our breath each time. And with each positive test, each hurdle cleared, we grew more hopeful. In fact, my hormone levels were skyrocketing to the point where Mark seriously began doing some research... and found that my numbers suggested we had twins in the oven. (That doesn't sound right....)

Then, on January 9th, it was the moment of truth: our first ultrasound. At this point, I was (theoretically) six weeks pregnant, so the heartbeat should be visible. Maybe there would be two...or more heartbeats.

But there weren't. There was just the one. But oh man, what a relief it was to see that one, beating away at a healthy 160 beats per minute! Our little peanut:

And this peanut has been busy growing. Growing into a fava bean, at 7 weeks...

...and the craziest of all, into a "big bouncy baby"!!!!

OK, so you can't see it bouncing, but I swear that when the doctor was scoping it out, taking measurements, our little baby moved its arms (yes, arms already!), did a little jig, and flipped over. It wasn't just me, we all saw it and yelped HEY! Hello to you too!

So....that was at 9 weeks. Tomorrow we'll be at a full eleven - almost the end of the first trimester. I'll have the last ultrasound with our fertility doctor next Friday, just after 12 weeks; after that, we'll be with our prenatal care provider... which is a whole other, um, thing. Plus, we got genetic testing coming up (for Down's and other abnormalities) -- all nerve-wracking.

But, for now, we're just thrilled we've made it this far.

FAQ:
When is your due date? September 3rd -- a few days before, haha, Labor Day.
How are you feeling? I feel nauseous on and off throughout the day, but if I can figure out what to eat, I can keep it down. The weirdest thing has been going through a citrus phase, and also now an anti-shrimp, octopus and squid phase. And I loooooooooove shrimp. So weird. Otherwise just sheer exhaustion kicking in at around 6pm, but that's actually already easing up -- I've been getting by lately without full-on naps.
You weren't going to West Coast IVF were you? No. The now-infamous Beverly Hills clinic, behind the recently born LA octuplets, is not where we went. But I do remember seeing that clinic on our list of options last fall. Yikes. I love our doctor. I mean, yes, I love him because he successfully guided us through making it all happen, but I've thought about this, and I truly think that even if we hadn't gotten pregnant this first time -- I think we would have felt we got the best care possible, and made the best decisions possible together with our doctor. Which can be a pretty rare thing to feel. S0, ask us any time you or a friend is looking for fertility treatment or egg-freezing.

'Nuff for now. Dinner's on the table, and I've got to eat for two. Or at least... one and a big bouncing baby.

All Hail the Candy

2009-01-21T00:30:00.003-05:00

Back in November, when we were getting closer to opening The Curious Palate, Mark, Elliot and I had a heated debate (over different cuts of meat, of course) about whether or not to have an opening party, and whether or not to reach out to press. I thought it would be important, but frankly, we also weren't ready. And Mark firmly believed in the viral power of foodie bloggers -- and that they prefer to discover places themselves, rather than get an invitation.

Well, no question he was right.

Friday morning, January 16th, online culture mag The Daily Candy published its daily e-news on the best of the local scene. In their Los Angeles edition (they are based in NYC), the lead was The Curious Palate.

By noon, the line of customers was out the door.

Thankfully, we'd been given a heads up by the writer that the article would be coming out -- so Mark had spent much of Thursday making extra food in preparation for the crowds. Still, by dinner time, they'd run out of many things, and the weekend rush was still to come. Needless to say it was our best day ever by FAR. Frickin' incredible.

I was working at home all day Friday, but on Saturday I threw on the TCP T-shirt (our uniform) and headed down to help, so I saw the crowds for myself. 4:30pm and the place was still packed with diners.

Sadly (at least for some, in a way), one of the changes that's come about after the kitchen staff experienced work flow with this number of customers (which, by the way, was above and beyond our 12-MONTH target) is that we've had to drop our "Mains" on the menu and focus on our "Sandwiches." Mark wasn't happy about not being able to serve our signature Margarita Chicken straight out of the oven -- it's just not as good -- and it was just getting too complicated in our tiny kitchen. So, the "Sandwiches" section of the menu has been expanding, but for now, hot dinners to go (or to have for lunch) -- like braised apple cider pork -- are off the menu. The mac 'n' cheese and soups and sautéed spinach are still around, though, so there's plenty of dinner material, and we may bring back the meatloaf as a cold to-go, for reheating at home. We'll see.

We also needed to postpone our farmer's market debut (not counting the potato latke stand that we had in December, a one-time thing by request), because now we're suddenly getting orders like a special brunch reservation for 10, and a catered lunch for 20, etc. And our patio space is begging to be finished. We may need to hire more staff, since we're 7 days a week now and obviously I can't be there every day. But we also need to watch and wait to see the ebb and flow of customers.

For now -- thank you Candy!!

Meanwhile...

2009-01-03T12:15:00.000-05:00

The blogosphere is definitely starting to buzz about TCP: we've gotten articles in Triplecreme (12/11/08), LA Eater (12/24/08) and Chowhound. We've also been Yelped a number of times -- and we got a call from the LA Times as well, wanting pictures for their blog post. (You can find the final listing here.)

OH, and our official web site is FINALLY up! Check it out: www.thecuriouspalate.com. Updates and new pics will be ongoing, but at least it's out there for people to find. Hurrah!

When we first opened, each day was better than the next -- more people, more $, more love. Then there was a bit of a lull after Christmas...but now in January we seem to be back up to speed. Hopefully we'll start to see increased traffic from people reading those foodie blogs, and then of course we have MUCH to do in terms of our own marketing push. For starters, we're putting together a news letter... I know a reach out to the local library, firehouse and schools are in the works... and we've hardly scratched the surface of generating interest within the store -- more signs, discount items/sales campaigns, recipe sharing ideas, demos... Not to mention: the patio space needs finishing and...long story on the wine & beer license. So, much to do.

But the initial launch has been good. Spread the word! oxoxoxo

The Magnificent Seven

2008-12-17T21:56:00.001-05:00

Friday was another bizarre, bizarre day. Honestly I don't remember much of it except the beginning...and the end.

The beginning: we learned from our doctor that of the seven eggs that he was able to retrieve, four had been mature, and three were not. So they picked four good-lookin' sperm (out of millions?!) and injected them, one each, into the four matured eggs. Those fertilized -- hoo yeah!

The other three slowpokes, they let mature overnight in the lab. By morning, they were in good enough shape that the embryologist went ahead and picked three more sperm and injected them as well. But by 1pm -- when this conversation was happening -- it was impossible to tell if those would successfully fertilize; all we knew was that they had a good chance, since the other four had 100% fertilization.

Here's a picture of them all, the magnificent seven:(I think they look like cocoa and butter cookies -- with the cocoa part in the middle. Mark thought the whole thing looks like a satellite reconaissance pic, like the one Colin Powell showed the UN: "these are the Al Qaeda bunkers, and these are the trucks carrying new shipments of ammo...")

Once we wrapped our minds around all that, it was time for a decision: how many to put back in?

Seven, of course, seemed like way too many. Maybe we could put in three or four, and freeze the rest for a second round of implantation, if we dont' get pregnant with the others?

But -- the expert opinion was far less optimistic, in a way. I had a history of increasingly high FSH levels, indicating my egg reserve -- and hence quality -- were not so good. It took extra days of injecting the maximum doses of the fertility meds, and we got only four mature eggs. The three "little" ones were already under stress from maturing in a lab, and there was no way of telling if they'd even properly fertilize. They probably wouldn't survive cryopreservation; their best chance of growing was right back in my body. So his recommendation? Put them ALL back.

...And we agreed.

Hopefully, at least one would develop properly, make its way to my uterus, and implant. Maybe two would make it; three or four would be highly unlikely. And even if they made it to the uterus, they wouldn't be "competing" -- the doctor explained that each embryo would send out signals to my body to ask for the fluffiest lining possible, so even if only one actually grew after implanting, it would have the luxury bedding made for the presidential suite, sleeps four. (Or more!)

So we went with it.

The next thing I remember....basically... is Mark tucking me into bed back at home. He stuck around until Hana came over and took over the baby sitting. I slept mostly, but later on she made me some yummy oden (like Japanese chicken soup), which REALLY hit the spot... arigato!

My belly button bled a little when I got out of bed, but otherwise it was all kind of uneventful. I just had three patches like bandaids down my abdomen, no big scars. Apparently all seven eggs went back into my left fallopian tube, no problem. Amazing.

So now it's the waiting game. I've been trying to just take it easy and minute by minute. The only real exertion was when the day after the surgery, I made it to the church for the choir concert. At first I was concert, because my throat had been a little sore (despite the anesthethiologist's repeated assertions that when he put me on the respirator, which was part of the procedure, he would use the "soft" tube he uses for opera singers. God knows what it would have felt like with the REGULAR tubing!) -- and most surprisingly, I found myself very short of breath. I suppose that's also from having been on a respirator, for however short a time. How delicate we are. So that bothered me even more than the tightness in the tummy. But my fellow singers were very supportive -- and the music itself was invigorating, as expected -- and the concert turned into a beautiful, spiritual, energized evening. And I just know it was good and healing.

Mark and I keep talking to the little ones. Now the message is "xiao xin, xiaohai" -- careful, little ones!

Here is the path they will take (courtesy of...I'm not sure, apologies. This image is everywhere.):

We're at "Day 5: 8-cell compacted morula" already. ("Morula" from the Latin "morus," or "mulberry.") Who knew.

Safe journey to all, and happy holidays :)

Step two

2008-12-12T14:16:00.002-05:00

Just a quick update that our doctor was able to retrieve SEVEN promising eggs yesterday! There's the caveat that note all of them are mature, or viable (i.e. well-shaped, healthy)...but let's hope it's the lucky seven. Apparently you can also help the eggs mature a little more outside of the body before fertilization -- who knew?

I was groggy and spacy afterwards but otherwise totally fine. Some cramping, but not constant -- mostly painful when I laugh, like after doing "too many" sit-ups -- I didn't even have to take the extra-strength Tylenol the nurses sent me home with. The weirdest part of the experience was probably going under general anesthesia for the first time. It was administered by IV, and I didn't even realize when they switched out the bag from saline to anesthesia -- so I'm lying in the op room, fully aware (I thought), watching the doctors and listening to one of my favorite Russian liturgical hymns on the iPod (I'd made a meditation mix to go under & recover to)... and the next thing I know, the song is different and I'm a little crampy and when I open my eyes, I'm back in the regular patient bed area. WEIRD!! No countdown, no "ok we're ready".... just BOOM, and it's over, and I have NO idea what was done to my body. Not even a sense that something WAS done, other than that little bit of cramping. Thankfully they stuck to my eggs and didn't go get a kidney or anything (I think...).

We find out in about half an hour (back at the clinic) how many of those eggs survived the night and the fertilization. And, if we have more than two zygotes, we'll have to decide how many to transfer back today. I don't even know what to think at this point; just taking it minute by minute. I just hope that at least ONE survived and is doing well!!

More later, or tomorrow, if I'm just too out of it today. Thanks for all the good energies, well-wishing and support! You know who you are! oxoxox

The Gambler

2008-12-10T11:09:00.002-05:00

Kenny Rogers is right: you gotta know when to hold'em, know when to fold'em. And we for now, are holding'em -- on two fronts.

One: my ultrasound on Monday morning showed at least six follicles now that were growing nicely. Our doctor needed no convincing that we should move forward with the cycle! But they still were in the 11-13mm range, not mature-egg size -- about 18mm -- so we decided on an additional round of hormone injections that night and another check-up on Tuesday, to decide one last thing: whether we would aspirate (i.e. harvest) the eggs on Thursday, fertilize them, and replace them on Friday... or make it a Friday-Saturday procedure.

My choir concert is Saturday night. If it was a Saturday surgery, there's no way I'd be able to sing. And we're not a large group.

So, we spent another day/night coaxing these little guys to grow. When we do the injections, I say "gambare gambare!" (Japanese for "go! go! you can do it!"), and Mark says "j'a yoh, j'a yoh!" (Mandarin for "go! go! step on it!", or literally, "throw oil on it!" which inevitably reminds me of a flaming, juicy wok).

Apparently it all worked, because Tuesday morning a bunch of the follicles were between 16-21 mm -- and I think we were up to seven possibilities (I lost count in the excitement). So we are a definite go for Thursday-Friday!

I had one last mini-round of hormones last night, and one big injection of HCG, a hormone that will trigger the release of my eggs in 36 hours -- the time of the aspiration, at 8am. Today I start taking antibiotics to prepare for the back-to-back procedures. Barring any catastrophes, I should even be able to sing by Saturday night! Hurrah!

MEANWHILE... two: the store is coming along nicely: each day we seem to be just a little bit busier, which is just the way we want it. In time, we want to be at least two times as busy/profitable as we were, say, on Sunday -- but the only publicity we've done so far has been word-of-mouth, so more extensive campaining and ad placements (if any) and reach-outs should get us there no problem. Especially if the people who come keep coming back. Which, so far, they all are!

BTW, we were "yelped" already -- yelp.com is a VERY popular, peer-review, Citysearch-type search engine -- check it out here.

Must get on a conf call now with New York for my day job. More later!

Another countdown

2008-12-08T11:58:00.004-05:00

So, Friday was not so good. My follicles were growing but not as fast and large as we'd hoped. In fact, there were four or maybe five follicles -- i.e. maturing eggs -- that were doing relatively well; the low threshold for an IVF cycle (making it worthwhile to harvest and try fertilizing the eggs) is six. I'd been hoping for at least nine, maybe eleven or even sixteen.

Our doctor basically gave us three options: forge ahead, with a low probability of success; stop, and turn the cycle into an IUI cycle (insemination instead of fertilization); or continue with more hormone injections over the weekend, and see where we're at Monday, and make a final decision then.

We opted for the third. So, three days and three hundred and thirty dollars' worth of Repronex later, we're on our way to the clinic again.

This is classic Emi: very deliberate (i.e. indecisive) over very important life things. I took a year off after high school because I didn't know whether to go to Stanford or stay in Japan and experience being "fully" Japanese. I took a year off after college, because I couldn't decide between going to film school in LA, NY, or London. Now, even my unfertilized, certainly unborn eggs are being indecisive: "I'm kind of maturning... but kinda slowly... not sure if I want to participate in this cycle... are we really ready?...Hmmm...."

After some soul searching on Friday (which I spent completely in a daze), I spent much of the weekend meditating, talking to my eggs and follicles, and napping. Frankly, I've been REALLY exhausted, and feeling bad cuz Mark's the one on his feet all day -- until a fertility counselor reminded me that my body is dealing with tremendous stress, trying to incorporate all these hormones and create at least five eggs where usually there's only one.

{the syringes I've used in the last 10 days.}

So that made sense. My body needed rest, so I gave it some rest. It was good.

Anyway, on our way now. More later.

Oh, and one more thing.

2008-12-05T02:24:00.004-05:00

Yeah... we thought moving cross-country and starting up a new business on my freelance salary wasn't enough. We're moving forward with the biggest, most emotionally harrowing gamble of our lives to date: IVF.

Well, technically, it's not IVF -- it's ZIFT, Zygote Intrafallopian Transfer. The idea is to fertilize the egg externally, then rather than continuing to grow it in the lab for 3-5 days and transferring it into the uterus, we return it to the fallopian tube where it grows naturally as the body carries it down into the uterus itself.

Ironically, this more "natural" process is much more invasive to the female (in this case, my) body: it involves laparoscopic surgery under full anesthesia, the day right after getting more anesthesia for the egg retrieval. But our doctor -- director of the Santa Monica Fertility Specialists, who we really like -- has had tremendous success with ZIFT, and considering our history, we decided to go for it.

I meant to start writing this about this a LONG while ago, but ya know, we've been busy. So here's the deal:

I began taking the Pill (yes, more irony) about a month ago (this is to take control over my hormones), along with pre-natal vitamins and baby aspirin:

Then, based on good (i.e. on-track) blood test results, starting on Thanksgiving Day, we began a hormone injection called Lupron -- twice a day with an insulin syringe. Two days later, we added another hormonal drug called Menopur (acquired from the UK to save at least a little $$). This was kind of a mess at first because it's extremely complicated to prepare, and the scheduled time to administer it happened to coincide with our first tasting. Mark and I were fumbling around in the bathroom like first-time heroin users.

Thankfully, it's all become somewhat routine now, and the side effects haven't been bad -- I threw up once on Thanksgiving Day and my abdomen's bruised up and sore, but no excessive weight gain or anything like that (which can happen). Emotional highs and lows for sure, but god knows that might be from the store opening too!

If all goes well, the egg aspiration (retrieval) should be next Monday -- already! -- and the transfer the next day (assuming some are usable, and some grow after fertiliziation). BUT... that's if all goes well. At our appointment yesterday, the ultrasound showed a few follicles growing, but not a great many, and not all that big yet either. Our doctor gave us a 50-50 shot at proceeding next week. If the follicles haven't grown enough, it won't be worth it -- so we would most likely abort (ha ha) the process and possibly start all over again after at least a two-month break to physically, emotionally and financially regroup. But, he did say that he's seen follicles "simmer" and then "soar," so... rah, rah, follicles! Rah, rah! Grow eggs grow!

Just goes to show: you can't plan anything. Dammit.

Another ultrasound and blood test tomorrow morning. Could set the course. Fingers crossed that we can make it happen... happy thoughts. Peaceful thoughts...

Blast off!

2008-12-05T01:30:00.014-05:00

Thursday, December 4th, 2008, 10am -- The Curious Palate opened its doors, officially, to the public.

The last week has been beyond chaotic, with Thanksgiving (catering to the families of my friends Hana & Lisa -- our first paying customers!):

...TWO dinner "tastings," one on Saturday and another on Monday:

...and now, finally, the opening. Needless to say Mark has been cooking for about 23 hours a day, and Elliot has been...well, I don't think he's sat down or stood still for two months now, so one could say that's nothing new. I too have been caught deeper in the vortex than ever before, the epitome of which was handwriting one retail label after another last night at the store until 3:30am (you know the line between "late" and "early" have been crossed when the morning news comes on NPR) -- then came home and sliced up the cheese and charcuterie labels. Of course, Elliot trailed behind me by another hour and a half... madman....

But, I'm happy to report that the first day went absolutely swimmingly. People stopped by all day; at one point our tables were full (one occupied by me and more labeling materials); and there was lots of ooh-ing and aah-ing -- many just sighs of sheer delight that we were, at long last, open. (Apparently it seemed long to those hungry people who walk or drive by every day too.) There is definitely MUCH more to do, but Mark said one family came by tonight and stayed for dinner, and the two kids raved: "It's the best restaurant we ever ate in!!!".... which, in my book, makes it all worthwhile.

I have to say... the store looks and feels like just the place we'd imagined. Again, there are SO many more dimensions to add... one prism color at a time.

Just happy we're off to a good start. Cheers!

P.S. A few of our retail offerings to whet your palate. Edible love :)

Final countdown?

2008-11-22T12:52:00.013-05:00

Now that was a LONG cliffhanger -- I know. Apologies. I was somewhat defeated after the last entry, when it turned out that that "big" inspection was a "framing" inspection by the LADBS, for the new dropceiling and a swinging gate we put next to the deli case. That would have to be followed by a "nailing" inspection (where they make sure we're using the right nails), and a "screwing" inspection... you get the idea.

But wait! There's more. The electrical... the plumbing... the ADA... and yet another health inspection (despite the fact that we already got an "A" four months ago).

There was a rather hairy moment with a plumbing/water resource issue that came out of left field -- but fortunately, we squeaked over that hurdle. So the good news is that now we've passed EVERY INSPECTION... except the final (and redundant) health inspection, which we're still waiting on because our inspector is, of all things, now on jury duty.

Mark and Elliot have been interviewing people all week, after getting hundreds of responses within minutes of posting this ad on Craig's List:

The Curious Palate, a new Market & Kitchen on Venice Blvd. in Mar Vista, specializing in farm-to-table cooking and artisanal provisions and cheeses, is seeking full and part-time employees.

Our ideal candidate:
- Provides excellent customer service, makes customers laugh and can speak passionately about artisan cheeses and foods
- Is hardworking, never idle
- Is very friendly and gets along well with coworkers
- Has loads of enthusiasm even under pressure
- Is a great team player with a positive attitude
- Is driven to learn
- Is passionate about seasonal, local comfort food… and CHEESE!

Experience in food service, retail, or cheese is a plus, but the passion and desire to learn is the most important attribute of a successful candidate. 8 hour shifts will fall in the range of 9 AM – 9 PM. Weekend and evening hours will be required. Starting salary is negotiable and a competitive benefits package is available after six months of employment. We are currently seeking employees who can commit to us for at least a year.

Are you ready to join us in our mission to educate the world on the pleasures of slow food and great cheese? Then send us your resume now, along with a cover letter letting us know why this job is perfect for you!

They've met a few promising canditates so far -- for this "cheese" position as well as for the sous chef position -- so they should be making a decision soon, perhaps after a test day of cooking/working together next week.

Meanwhile, we've had a few more tastings and a nice family dinner at the Curious Palate. So here are some pictures to, uh, whet your appetite!

Looking toward the café area, with the POS (point of service = cash register) in the foreground.

LEFT: Looking toward the retail area and the beverage case. Shelving for the products has been installed since this picture was taken.

RIGHT: View from the entryway. The hanging blackboards (crafted from wood we preserved from demolishing the ceiling) will be used to display the menu. By next Wednesday, these deli cases should be full (or at least partially full) of cheeses and charcuterie.

The Cannon boys in the kitchen. (From left: Mark, Dave, Jack (dad) and Teddy.)

Buffet-ing off the top of the deli cases. In the foreground is a vat of the most delicious coleslaw on Earth.

Elliot and Keri -- working on seconds?

My darling friends Hana and Kyle, who had just finished moving into their new, absolutely charming DREAM home in Santa Monica (we're now neighbors -- yay!). Here, a commemorative picture of the hungry couple as our first "to go" customers.

Next week, we'll be celebrating Thanksgiving at the store. More pics to come! And good eats to all....

Coming up next:

2008-10-22T11:30:00.005-04:00

"There are too many cliffhangers in our lives."

Mark and I were nestled on the couch after dinner, watching "the Funnies" -- The Daily Show with Jon Stewart and The Colbert Report -- when he blurted this out, half-joking, half-sighing.

The cliffhanger -- that juicy storytelling device that entranced Shahrzād's king, and today keeps TV viewers from "changing the dial" (or at least we try, we TV writers) -- supposedly got its moniker from Thomas Hardy's 1873 serial novel, A Pair of Blue Eyes. Chapters were published monthly, and to ensure readers picked up the next copy, he once left the hero literally hanging on a cliff. The technique was used extensively in the serial films of the silent era, most notably the 1914 blockbuster The Perils of Pauline -- every episode of which would end with the poor heroine Pearl White trapped with a villain (usually a pirate or a savage, i.e. Native American) promising death. Then at the beginning of the next episode she would somehow escape, then get trapped again, then escape again, get trapped, escape... etc. Poor woman, but apparently she was quite resourceful.

No doubt cliffhangers are fun to watch. Our hearts race, our knuckles whiten, we cringe in our seats -- and when the danger is past, we fly high on our hero or heroine's courage and oh, how it's incredible to be alive!

Maybe we even use some of that induced adrenaline to tackle our own lives, get through our own cliffhangers (those of us without that thrill-seeking gene). Because life, being unpredictable, is full of them. What will my next job be? Will the store be a hit? Will I ever get pregnant? Will my dad win the Green Card Lottery? Will Mark ever find the time to get his hair cut? And -- more so these days, on everyone's minds -- can I pay the rent on time? Will I ever get to retire? Will Obama really win the presidency -- and if he does, will he manage to live up to even half of his supporters' expectations?

Today, our main cliffhanger happens to be: will The Curious Palate pass the LADBS inspection? If it does -- the greenlight will launch us into the home stretch to the big open; the final construction, the hanging of all the lights, the installation of the dishwasher and other plumbing-related equipment, ALL hinges on one man's approval. If he doesn't...

To be continued...

Progress

2008-10-19T22:52:00.014-04:00

A before-and-after:

The ugly-ass bathroom: approximately 5ft x 9ft of dirty white paint; chipped mirror; tacky toilet seat; plastic fast-food waste basket; gas station sink & faucet; horrible brick red tile floor (already ripped up in these pictures and smoothed over with concerte)...

...Now with pretty pink paint made with eggshells; stained concrete floor; toilet seat cover holder and industrial paper towel dispenser are gone; tacky toilet seat and gas station yet to be replaced...but at least the sink is no longer crooked. Wish we could replace that awkward piping under the sink, but between the shoddy original work and a web of strict ADA (disbility) requirements, there's little we could afford to do right now to pass inspections. Hence the shape of the new mirror too (the picture is just of the wood frame but will soon have a new reflective surface added to it. Also more decor to come.

Other fun pics: our tables... with bistro-style "Bentwood" chairs... lots of scrounging to find enough of these...

The storefront... with stained mortar replacing the red Chihuahua tiles... I'm not really sold on the orangy trim color but repainting it is waaaaay down on the priority list...and we may not see much of it once the awning is in.

And our sales bags! They feel like thin plastic bags but they're made from recycled materials and biodegradable after 9 months. The "logo" is dark brown, with orange and ivory lettering (though the ivory really is a punch-out that shows the ivory material of the bag).

Better pics of the floor tiles to come, too. And the ceiling. And not the deli cases are in... and more shelving...it's definitely looking like a store now! Apparently the "coming soon" sign went up today and they had a stream of people stopping by. Hopefully all the recent anxiety about the economy will encourage a return to simple pleasures (i.e. eating well) and supporting local, independent businesses like ours.

All Tiled Up

2008-09-10T08:32:00.005-04:00

It's 5:30 am, and I'm up. Kind of. The white electric glow of the laptop is zapping the last few strands of sleep from my brain.

Really, I've been in a haze of consciousness for an unknown period of time -- maybe another hour and a half. (Oh wow, I'm suddenly famished.)

(Toast and egg and fresh OJ in hand now.)

My point: it's Tiling Day.

The boys are meeting at 7am at the store to begin laying down slate. (Click to see the process & pictures.) Of course, what you have to remember is that the tile didn't magically appear; we had to choose it and buy it. And you know what happened with the paint.

Also, the decision to lay down tile came about, oh, on Friday. And we want to get it all nice and done before the LADBS (Los Angeles Department of Building and Safety) comes and inspects it next week. (The good* news is that they stamped our construction permit. Amen.) Luckily, Elliot found out from one of his boys that somewhere on Slauson Avenue ... somewhere downtown... there was a mecca of tile shops. (Slauson is 20 miles long.)

So come Saturday morning, we whipped out our treasure maps and puttered down to the one spot we knew there would be a store: the Slauson Cermaic Marble and Tile. This turned out to be an itsy bitsy teeny weeny yellow painted concrete building, the kind more often seen hawking used tires or strangely tender tongue burritos. We pulled up in front of a house with at least two chickens clucking around their front yard and a little girl staring at me from behind the white iron picket fence. The store itself was a good start, but all of the stand-out tiles were "special order" -- i.e. would take one or two weeks to ship, which was no good for us. So we bought a few sample tiles to play with and moved on, following mysterious directions from the thick-accented salesgirl. Along the way... we hit the jackpot.

I no longer have any idea what that store was called, which kinda gives away the fact that we ultimately didn't buy their tiles. But it was huge, and we enjoyed a moment of victory as we identified a kind of earthy, gold-and-red-mottled tile that had enough friction (don't want our fancy lady customers slippin' in their Blahniks and Choos) and... and... addressed all the other scientific (porosity is a favorite) and health-inspection-code specs that Elliot will thoroughly, meticulously inquire of the hapless vendor. And enough of it -- 500 square feet -- was in stock! We still wanted to actually see the tile in the store, though, so we bought one ($2.89) and happily climbed back in our car-turned-heated-oven, not even caring that we never found a single additional tile store, let alone a mecca.

My lesson that day: just how incredible the temperature difference can be between the beach and East LA -- a 10 to 20-degree difference in the summer. I literally got into my car roasting, dehydrated and sweating, succumbing to using air conditioning on the surface streets, and got out of it almost shivering at the cool breeze and marine layer (check out how thick!).

My lesson the next morning: if it's too easy, it ain't over. The tile was still beautiful, perfect for our store. Except -- and I'd had a creeping fear about this -- it made our golden-red, salvaged-urban-pine, hand-crafted (by Stefan) tabletops disappear into mush. It made our front door, also pine stripped of its red Chihuahua paint, look as oddly pale as a scrawny British boy from some rite-of-passage, dive-into-the-lake-while-terrified scene in a boarding school or summer camp movie. And... I thought it would really, truly clash (yet in a subtle way) with our whole exterior paint. My vote was for the dark slate we'd picked up, because it brought out the beauty of the wood -- it's just that it felt silly to be covering up the same colored polished concrete floor with such a similar-colored slate. Though we have our reasons.

Sooooo... cut to yesterday morning. I traipsed over to meet the boys at Bourget Flagstone Company, which fortunately has been in business since 1947 right around the corner from where we live now. Walking in, I half expect all this natural stone, all the sample flooring laid out like the Ancient Egypt section of the Met or the patio of a mogul's pied a terre in the Sunset Hills to be completely unaffortable. But... it turns out not. (The bulk of the cost is probably labor, to create the beautiful patterns.) I fell in love with Mystique Green, a pale green slate that really brought out the highlights in our table (we lugged it with us this time). Then we picked Ming Valley, a dark grey slate with streaks of rusty red, to lay down as kind of a pathway leading from the patio door and across the store and down the hall to the bathroom. They were both suitable for commercial restaurant use: tough as nails, low porosity, and flat enough not to cause that annoying unevenness in the table and chair legs. We were set, we were done!

Except the Bourgets didn't have quite enough in stock of the damn Ming.

Ming!

You couldn't imagine what we went through after that, trying to find another slate with which we could supplement the Ming. They were too soft, or with too many crevices, or naturally embedded with iron, or... I mean it was endless. Finally I had to leave to start my day job: I'd had my say, and it was now up to the boys. All day I got calls from Mark: "Remember the 'Golden Ray'? How about that for the path and 'Beijing' for the tables?"... "Hey, we're at this other place in West LA now, check out the slate on their site..."... and then, at last: "Ok, we're going with the Beijing and the Kashmir. Coming back to get the RAV so we can go get the slates back at Bourget."

That, my friends, brings us to... Tiling Day. Stay tuned.

*great, glory-to-God hallelujah hallelujah!

pieces of the puzzle

2008-09-02T11:32:00.001-04:00

The ovens arrived today. Or rather, our new ovens were put in place (took a few good men to stack'em on top of one another), so the kitchen "line" -- the line-up of equipment and cooking workflow -- is close to completion. And having the ovens there now means Mark has begun playing with big slabs of meat and flocks of chicken to test out the temperature gauge, figure out the menu and perfect some recipes. A looooot of work to be done.

And MEANWHILE, I'm working with my friend Lars on the website; narrowing down uniform options for the staff; formatting the logo for printing on bags and stuff; and trying to come up with a look & design for the bathroom. Who knew sink basins could be so expensive -- or made of bamboo? I think there's more but I've put away my to do list for the day.

I've now heard Mark say "October 1st" for an opening day. Some days that seems doable.

from sea to shining...muffins

2008-08-12T22:35:00.012-04:00

Colors. They're everywhere. So pretty. Red, green, blue, yellow. So simple. Right?

Wrong. Oh, so, wrong.

With the basic exterior construction done, it was Time -- Time to Decide on what color the Curious Palate should be. What color best represents how delicious life can be? What color would inspire in our customers the yummiest of dreams, lure them in by the thousands with promises of delectable delicacies and glorious goodies that satiate their very souls?

And how do we go classy without being bland? How do we stand out without being gaudy?

The wrong color....and we may as well kiss it goodbye.

AAAAAAHHH!

So you see (maybe) how playing with colors turned into week-long nightmare. I spent hours creating layers upon layers of options on Photoshop: white door, sage green awning, brick red façade? Red door, dark brown awning, cream façade? Sage façade? Navy awning? Brown door? Or will it help to call them food colors: artichoke, 70% chocolate, salted butter and ricotta?

It was like a wedding careening out of control, with me and a triad of dusty, musty men (Mark, Elliot and Stefan in full construction mode) wrestling over color combos. But somehow, we managed to narrow down our options, and once I managed to persuade Elliot to try swatches of paint rather than go for the whole thing at once, we schlepped to Home Depot, the bastion of low-budget renovation, for said samples of paint.

The next day, the paint went up. And we realized... one of our colors, a grey-green, was virtually identical to the questionable housing units in our back lot. And the other color, a pretty light "sage" (aka "Sea Foam")... not only looked more like a pallid mint, but bizarrely blended into the two buildings on either side of us, a sky-blue Mexican flower shop (see left) and a white...something. I'll find out.

So it was back to square one. We put up more colors. Everyone had an opinion. And I mean everyone: our helper Joe, a woman on the street waiting for her friend, and god knows how many others who came and went while I tried not to think about it back at home. And every single person had a different opinion. At one point, Stefan even piped up with what I can only call delusional blasphemy: he liked the original yellow-orange of the (gasp!) Taqueria Chihuahua.

Thankfully, Elliot's wife Keri stepped in. And she picked what was Mark's favorite all along: (...drumroll...) warm muffin. (It's a pale creamy yellow. Scrumptious.)

The whole store is painted now, with a terra cotta red on the side that will probably also be used for the door and trim, and the muffin basking (baking?) in the afternoon sunshine in front.

And really -- who could argue with a warm, sunny muffin?

Note: those ugly tiles on the bottom will be covered and smoothed over with a stained mortar. So the makeover continues. Now -- what colors should we paint on the inside....?

ready, set...

2008-08-06T23:31:00.010-04:00

...and we're off! On July 14th, 2008, Mark and Elliot signed a 3-year lease (with two additional 3-year options) to the building at 12034 Venice Blvd., Los Angeles, CA. Previously known as La Taqueria Chihuahua, the little yellow shop is a stand-alone structure in an up-and-coming neighborhood that bridges Culver City, Venice and Mar Vista/Santa Monica (all cultural/food hotspots on the West Side). It's also literally around the corner from the Mar Vista farmer's market on Sundays, where we'll open a booth at some point to sell paninis (or something) and reach out to the community.

Unbelievably, almost a month has flown by since they put their names on the dotted line. Since then, we've christened the place with a few family dinners... demolished the front door and ceiling, to expose the wooden roof beams... sold a bunch of the kitchen equipment, and "auditioned" various vendors for the right replacements (like the Rationale and the Alto-Shaam "Combis" and the Cook-Hold-n'-Smoker). I'm still working full time on Dr. G, but doing what I can to help with decision-making on design, construction materials, color palette, etc etc.

Working with us on both the design and construction front is Stefan, a woodwork artist who Elliot befriended when fixing his car (Elliot is a mechanical genius).

More to come, but that's the big update for now. The original Venice location on Abbott Kinney Blvd. went to Le Pain Quotidien, a national chain -- and though the building owner was bending over backwards to bring us into the space (even knocking down the wall to create a bigger space), the costs involved in putting in a brand new kitchen and all the permits and engineering maneuvers that would require just didn't all add up. (Or added up to too much, I suppose.) The Santa Monica location never made up their mind which of their three top contenders, including us, they wanted to pick. And then one day, Mark saw the Taqueria up for sale on Craig's List. And so the story begins....

We're hoping to open in mid-September. A very aggressive schedule, no doubt -- that's 31 days from now! I could eat a different flavor at Baskin Robbins' every day and we should be open by the time I've gone though the list. Though they must come out with new flavors every month too. Hmmm.

P.S. That storefront graphic is not supposed to be blue...but I give up...

one night in the Village

2008-06-10T21:45:00.002-04:00

CRRRACKK!

VBOOOM!

SSSSSTTTTTTTT.....

After days of 97-degree heat, this may be the "first," biggest thunderstorm of the year. And I'm just lucky enough to be in cotton clothes that I don't mind getting wet; I throw on flip-flops (specifically slipped into my mini suitcase for tromping through the rain) and run downstairs, onto Sixth Avenue. The raindrops are so big they hurt as they hit, but I couldn't be happier -- in fact, I'm probably the happiest person on the street, since most others (especially those without umbrellas) are gunning for shelther.

I hop into puddles, gape at the sky, lightning strobes flashing but softened by rainclouds thicker than custard. It's raining harder than it did before our wedding, cooling the whole city faster than any air conditioning unit man could ever make.

Then, the droplets falter, but electricity still rips the sky, tearing the heat with a low roar, a duet with the rumble of the subway below my feet, accompanied by the sweeping soothing hiss of taxi cabs gliding over pavement.

The orchestration is perfect. And I am happy to be in New York, alive.

Final Countdown

2008-05-31T05:44:00.002-04:00

5:30am. My reflection in the bathroom mirror looks a little shell-shocked. Last night climaxed in a frenzy of 3-D geometry (what is the term?? too sponge-headed to know), scanning the kitchen over and over again to see what could fit, and what was light-weighted enough to put into, the box at hand.

Boxes, boxes, boxes. They have been sprouting like mushrooms all over the house. I never got to write about the day it started, and I couldn't bear to pack a single cookbook. Mark had broken the ice, putting a few things away, and I couldn't stand it.

Now -- now that Uni is gone, everything's changed. Maybe it hit home that change is inevitable. Maybe I just didn't want to be alone with Sumi anymore in this house. Who knows. But everything changed, and the move was on, and now the truck will be here in...four hours.

More to share, but I must go and (you guessed it) pack. Besides, Mark just brought me a martini glass with orange juice in it. One of our only unpacked glasses. Amazing how alcoholic it LOOKS, just being in that shape.

e

bright sun, dull roar

2008-04-17T21:46:00.002-04:00

And she had seemed so well last week.

Uni took a turn for the worse a few days ago. (I already hate how familiar this all is. Someday soon I would like to write a HAPPY, GOOD NEWS entry on the Spiral Life.)

…I started writing a whole long description of what’s been going on but… sigh. Suffice it to say I’ve consulted three doctors now, one in an emergency room yesterday, and she has pain relief now but tonight it’s clear to me that we have to let her go. Mark is trying to fly back from LA, and I will try to nurse her as best I can until Monday, but Monday afternoon at the latest, we will say good bye.

There, the white noise of my heart breaking.

And still, she is so good and beautiful.

nine lives

2008-04-13T16:26:00.000-04:00

There is much speculation as to where the notion that "a cat has nine lives" originated. Some say it was in ancient Egypt; others belive it's China. Interestingly, the Arabic proverb only gives a cat seven lives, while others mostly gives nine, presumably because of the number's mysticism (my favorite number, because who can argue with magic?).

All I know is -- I wish the proverb were true.

It started with a little bit of weight loss. Uni used to be slightly heavier than Sumi, but a few months ago, I noticed they'd switched a bit. But, Sumi always fluffs up over the winter (she's Siberian, most likely) and I didn't think much of it. Then, after being in Japan for three weeks in February/March, I swept Uni up into my arms -- and her lightness shocked me.

Blood tests followed; the vet declared "great news all around," all her organ functions were like a one-year-old's (she's nine) -- except, well, there's a chance there's something hard to detect going on there. We could do an ultrasound, or do another weigh-in in two weeks. I decided to wait.

Eight days later, we went in for the weigh-in. She seemed smaller and weaker every night, and I just knew something was wrong. This time, not only was she lighter, but the doctor thought she might have tachycardia, an unusually fast heartbeat (even for being at the vet). We immediately scheduled an ultrasound with the specialist.

The chest ultrasound was clear. But in the abdomen -- they saw that her kidneys were both atrophied, because of tiny growths spread around her mesenteric lymph nodes.

Most likely, it's cancer, and it's inoperable.

"Most likely" because to biopsy these growths would require invasive and specialized surgery, after which we may have a diagnosis but still no way to remove the little suckers.

So... anyway... there it is. She's taking Prednisone, a steroid that acts like chemo for cats, curbing the growth of the tumors, stimulating her appetite and supporting muscle growth. Funny thing is I'd just written about them for work, in a story about a woman who was taking Prednisone as part of her lupus medication... At least, for Uni, they've made a huge difference in her appetite. As in, now she can eat.

"We'll know more in the next 30 days," the doctor said. And when I mentioned that we might be moving in June -- "June is a long way off."

I used to think about how I'd console our kids when she passed away, 10 years from now. And now we're talking about June? This year?

I picked her out of the litter when the couple who rented me my very first solo apartment in Los Angeles had a cat who'd just given birth.

That also happened to be exactly when my mother was first diagnosed with stomach cancer, 9 years ago.

My... "experience" with Uni now shadows what happened with my mother, in many ways. How small and frails she's become, even while her spirit and beauty remain. How she struggles to eat, and tires in a way she never did before. How she yet provides me more comfort and pure joy.

How precious even the tiniest touch becomes.

The universe has a way of guiding us, encouraging us to grow. I can't help wonder if Uni came into my life to help me through from the time cancer hit my mother to now, a year after her death, when I must begin the *real* process of grieving, which I haven't really done yet. Now, I can do it with my girl, my best feline friend. And already, I know that when our time is up -- whenever that may be, and wherever she may go -- my mother will be there to love her too.

more pot metaphors

2008-04-10T12:41:00.004-04:00

A watched pot does not boil. (Actually, it does. But it takes longer than normal.)*

A watched email inbox does not receive new messages. (Like, from the Santa Monica broker.)

(And let's not go to the watched uterus.)

What else doesn't happen when you watch it? Chime in!

*scientifically unproven. far as I know.

to choose or not to choose

2008-04-05T15:45:00.002-04:00

Update on the Venice location: the grease interceptor problem looks to be fine. Mark and Elliot met with an engineer last week and they've basically figured it out. (Times like this, it helps enormously that Elliot is, among *many* other things, a petroleum engineer!!) Now, the ball is once again in the owner's court, as they work out a few more terms on the agreement. And assuming that goes through -- the next step is to actually sign the lease. Gulp.

BUT, there's that other pot on the stove: the second location, also on the West Side -- in Santa Monica. This is the one that is currently a restaurant (greasy Chinese fast food), and it's also a great location, with ample parking, AND cheaper rent to boot. So after looking at it and conducting many an interview with passersby and local vendors, M&E have put in an offer on that place as well... and expect to hear back by Wednesday.

If the counteroffer is good, then we'll be in a terrific position to make a choice. One of the major considerations, of course, is cost -- the price difference on renovations alone will be at least $70,000. And if there IS no choice, we'll move ahead with the Venice location. The tricky part, of course, is the timing -- if we get a decent counteroffer from the Santa Monica broker, and want to see where the negotiations go, while talks with Venice get to a point where we've got to sign it or drop it.

It's like dating. You've got your first impressions. Then comes the talking. You hit it off. Then you find out a few things, like the guy's got a grease interceptor problem, and you also start wondering if he's talking to someone else. Meanwhile, you meet this other guy who's a little rougher around the edges, but you see the potential, and go out for a coffee or even a drink -- hoping it's still a while before you have to really, really choose. Or -- whether you're going to have a choice at all.

I'm not packing any boxes yet. But, Mark is back (thank god, mwa) and he claims he's going to build a bunch and fill them up before he jets back to LA again. If he does -- maybe I'll help.

zip it

2008-03-27T23:23:00.003-04:00

Okay, I wasn't REALLY serious about jinxing the spot by talking about it... but sure enough, a problem's cropped up. Most food establishments, including ours, need a grease trap. But now that Mark and Elliot are talking to architects about this potential space... it seems there might be a serious (i.e. prohibitive and/or expensive) problem in setting one up. Now, this would be true for any restaurant or kitchen they'd put there, so the owners would have to: a) help the tenant set it up; b) find a tenant that can afford to do it themselves; or c) put some other retail store there. Of course we're hoping for a).

The boys are meeting an engineer there tomorrow, so there may be a workaround. But, if there isn't, or the owner isn't willing to pitch in on the work it will take to install a grease trap... we may have to walk away from the deal.

Meanwhile, continuing their due diligence, M&E went to look at yet another location today. The appeal with this new place is that it's already a restaurant, so it will be MUCH easier to convert into a food store. And, it's got plenty of parking, and the rent is tantalizingly cheaper. But... frankly, from what I can tell (from, yeah, 3,000 miles away), it's just not as sexy. But that's what makeovers are for, right? The downside, certainly, is that it literally came on the market yesterday, so the owner is likely to want to shop it around to potential tenants before settling on a deal.

THIS is why I'm not packing yet.

one step closer

2008-03-25T18:32:00.007-04:00

Mark & Elliot just got out of a sit-down with the owner and broker of the location for which we have our fingers crossed. The lease ("letter of intent") has been through their initial offer, our counter offer, their counter to our counter, and our counter to their counter to our counter. So this was a meeting where they ironed out a few more points in person. Apparently there are a couple of items still to finalize, but things are looking good -- very, very good. So, I'll share the neighborhood, at least: Venice.

More details when the lease is signed?!?

Meanwhile, the pile of unmade cardboard boxes in the corner of our eat-in kitchen seems to be calling out, "Time to build us! Time to fill us up! Don't think you can pack the whole house in a day!" Just a bit daunting. Just.

Cats will have no idea what hit'em....

rolling the ball

2008-03-10T22:53:00.006-04:00

One of the problems I face every time I think of this blog (which would be several times a day) is that there is SO much to share & write that I don't even know where to start.

But a number of questions seem to be on everybody's minds, so here's an attempt at answering a few:

1. How's your Dad? He's doing as well as could be expected; even better. I'm so proud of him. Funny thing to say about a parent perhaps, but it's true that we're reaching that age when the roles begin to reverse. In any case, he's found comfort in time if not solace from grief. His cooking in particular has vastly improved -- and he wasn't half bad to begin with. There's a quiet confidence stirring in him now which is wonderful to see.

2. Is he moving to the States? Ah, such a simple question, fraught with complications. This is certainly a possibility, but a) I've decided not to make or ask others to make big decisions until at least a year has passed since my mother's death, and b) it's really, really not that easy -- mainly because neither my father nor I have U.S. citizenship (I'm on a Green Card now, and my dad's a Bolivian citizen with a permanent residency permit in Japan). And to get U.S. citizenship (to sponsor my father's immigration) I'd have to give up my Japanese citizenship, which I'm not ready to do (never mind the logistical nightmares involving my assests now in Japan). More on this conundrum later.

3. How's the store? Mark has been spending almost all of his time in LA, with Elliot, researching many a possible storefront. All brokers/owners they've met have been superenthusiastic about the business proposal, and they've come close with several negotiations. But each spot so far has had some dealbreaker, like not enough parking (as determined by strict city regulations based on the usage, size and location of the property. That's about all I can understand). We're coming down to the wire, though, and it's turning into a rollercoaster ride -- which hopefully I can start reporting about in real time. Now they're in negotiations on the best location by far -- won't say where just now so as not to jinx it -- and I just have my fingers crossed. If I didn't know better I'd say we should tape this all for a reality show.

4. When are you moving? Where will you live? Mark is pretty much there, staying with his brother Dave, but only with his computer and a few clothes. So I, the cats, and our worldly possessions will be moving cross-country...probably in mid-June. I have a big RCCNY concert at Carnegie Hall on June 5th, and I'm planning on going back to Tokyo again at the end of June/beginning of July for my mom's 1-year anniversary memorial service, which makes mid-June the most practical time to move. We'll rent a place in LA somewhere near the store, hopefully somewhere on the West Side. Just need to give our CT landlady 2 months' notice -- which means giving notice in less than a month. Yikes. La la la la la la la la...

5. Will you work at the store, or...?? I finally bit the bullet and told my bosses and colleagues about the "possible" move to LA (some denial there still, yes -- what can I say, I'm conflicted). Everyone is supportive across the board, and since our show just got renewed for another season (now airing on TLC, by the way -- millions more viewers like you!), they'd definitely like to keep me writing and editing. Either way it will be great to have that steady income until the store's raking in $$. The big question is whether they'll keep me on as an employee even after I leave New York, or if they'll cut my benefits and have me go freelance (though I'd request a higher salary to compensate). We'll see.

6. How are you? WHERE are you? I'm back now from a 3-week trip in Tokyo, during which I spent more than $80,000 of what was once my mother's money. WHOO! It all went to income taxes, construction fees (we had to convert half our garden into a 3-car lot adjacent to the business rental property -- long story), accountant and property lawyer fees, property deed filing taxes... BOOO!!

7. Are you guys still trying? The short answer is yes, and I've been going to regular acupuncture sessions with a doctor prescribing herbal teas and such too. But really I can't imagine going through more "serious" treatment now and starting up with a new doctor (our company health insurance changed YET AGAIN, and the new provider is practically the only one that my OBGYN of 6 years does NOT take).....only to move and have to explain the whole emotionally charged history all over again to another doctor full of the same damn questions. Probably best not to get pregnant right now anyway, considering all that too. So all in good time. My only regret will be that any baby who finally makes it to my womb will miss out on the weekly rehearsals with RCCNY. I'd been looking forward to that.

I'm sure other questions will come up but it's after midnight now and I'm sinking deeper and deeper in between the flannel sheets. It's time.

2008

2008-01-01T22:32:00.000-05:00

May the year bring great blessings to all!

So much has happened since the last entry, and all emotional energy was devoted to just carrying on. Thank you for your patience...hope to bring you all up to speed and get the blog back on track soon.

Just a quick hello to say...hello.

Love and peace,

Emi

birth day

2007-07-29T07:01:00.000-04:00

Thirty-five years ago today, at 2:03 pm, my mother... became a mother.

My father took me out to dinner last night, just the two of us, to an Italian restaurant with a view of Tokyo Tower and the traditional summer fireworks over Sumida River.* There, he told me a little bit about that day -- stories I'd forgotten or never knew. Well, we talked about a lot of things, but inevitably my mother's physical absence at the table grew harder and harder to bear, until I found myself able to do nothing but push around a whipped-cream-covered cherry from the birthday cake on my plate, and I finally burst out crying. (My father held it together, bless his heart!) This should have been our day together, the day we became a family, the three of us, and it just wasn't fair she wasn't there.

Actually, it was my dad's birthday on the 20th. And in two days, on the 31st, Mark and I will toast (on the webcam for now) our third wedding anniversary. So July has really shaped up to be the "circle of life" month.

Oh my. I had all sorts of eloquent thoughts about birth and death and life and such, but I've lost it. And obviously there is so so so much more to share, or at least so much going on, that I don't know how to put into words at all. Or how to reach out. How to even begin replying to the kind words that have been sent our way. (This is my official public apology for not writing back yet!) I guess this entry is kind of like breaking the ice. Slowly. I think somehow talking about it is like admitting it's true. And it's just too scary to actually really dwell on that reality for more than a flash at a time.

So for now, I'll return to the thought of this being the anniversary of the day my mother brought me into this world. (Yes Daddy, you get credit too, but you know what I mean.) And I'll reiterate some of what I said to her over and over that last night.

Mama. Arigato ne. Thank you.

I love you.

*Good thing they were yesterday, because today (appropriately) a monstrous thunderstorm has been lighting up the sky since 2pm -- almost nine hours now, and still going strong!

...

2007-07-28T10:15:00.000-04:00

...hi.

rage, rage against the dying of the light

2007-07-06T09:19:00.000-04:00

i am at the end of the most intense 36 hours of my life. been up since waking up for breakfast on the plane, not knowing whether my mother had passed away while mark & i were somewhere over the pacific ocean. but when we made it to narita airport, and i called, she was still hanging on, and another LONG two hours later, we ran into the hospital, family friends waving us in from the sidewalk. and when i fell on my knees by her bed, she saw me, and gave me the most brilliant, unforgettable smile. but that's not all: she hung on for another 16 hours, defying the doctors' expectations by more than 10 fold -- and under the constant vigil of my father, mark, and two close family friends, spent a whole night and daybreak with me/us until her last labored breath at 8:01am Pacific Time. it was the most torturous and beautiful experience i've ever survived. she is truly a formidable, courageous woman, and i learned more from her in the last three days than i ever imagined possible.

and i know it would never have happened were it not for the powerful prayers from all continents, filling her spirit with the precious extra strength. so thank you, everybody. you know who you are.

thank you.

2007-07-03T21:08:00.000-04:00

my mother is dying. mark & i are flying back to japan on the first available flight. there is almost no hope of getting there in time.

the cancer had perforated her intestines and she developed an aggressive, fatal infection.

she is in the hopsital, with my father, at least.

thank you.

e

on a lighter note...

2007-06-24T22:54:00.001-04:00

...it was Mark's birthday on Friday! We kicked off the weekend with a smashing dinner (starting with a kumquat mojito, left) at the New Leaf Café, up by the Cloisters in Fort Tryon Park. It's a non-profit restaurant where all the proceeds go to the upkeep of the park. One of my favorite spots in New York, especially for brunch in combination with a concert at the Cloisters. But this evening, we went for the live jazz they have on Thursday nights. Several thunderstorms passed through, but as you can see we had a few dry minutes to walk around, and once it was pouring, the rain just made the rustic restaurant even cozier.

While Mark's grown a sweet tooth since I started baking more often in the suburbs, I still figured the oysters were a better bet for the birthday candle. The kitchen gave us a bonus oyster for the occasion, which made it not a half dozen but a lucky seven!

It was a night -- and weekend -- of mixed emotions though. More on that to come...

first, from tokyo

2007-06-24T22:10:00.000-04:00

Updates about my mom. Overall, things have not been very good. A few manageable days, but she is really able to eat so little, and is often in great discomfort. Our primary cancer care doctor, Dr. Hayashi, has assured us that she is not yet to the point of having an ileus, which would be an absolute emergency. But, seeing as attempts to resolve the problem internally have not been working, she will be checking into the hospital next Tuesday (June 26th) to get IV nutrition and to somehow, hopefully, address her blocked/scarred intestines (likely the combined effects of the cancer, her gastrointestinal surgeries, and being on opiates for pain control). I think the length of her stay will depend on the course of treatment. If she ends up undergoing surgery or anything like that, I'll probably fly back; otherwise, I'm still hoping to head there in August.

Really, she should have been checked in earlier, but Tuesday was the earliest bed they had available. Health care issues abound in every country. Meanwhile, dear family friends have visited my mom at home, providing massage and other personal care. One of the oddest, fun therapies is...ironing my mom. It's heat therapy, basically, using a special little iron. She and I both tend to get very cold, so I can imagine how good it must feel! And, wearing these socks apparently is also very comfortable.

My dad took all the pics on this blog. He calls this one the United Colors of Bennetoes...

For the time being, they've put chemotherapy on hold. Yesterday she hardly had the strength to put in her contact lenses, but somehow managed to smile brilliantly like she always does. My dad is sleeping less, it seems, but doing ok. He starts working only part time (Tuesday and Friday mornings) starting mid-July, so that will be good too that he can stay with my mom as needed.

More news to come this week.

faster than a speeding bullet

2007-06-24T20:56:00.000-04:00

11 days since my last entry! I can't seem to keep up with everything that's been happening. Sorry to those who have been checking in and not finding more frequent updates. Feels like it's been nonstop since the Carngeie event and L.A. trip (for which I still need to report part 3). Hopefully this week will be a little more manageable and I'll be able to write a little more about each thread.

call me jack bauer

2007-06-13T21:32:00.000-04:00

I imagined today what it’s like to be hanging off a flying helicopter. Say off the bottom of the ladder, swaying as the chopper rises higher over cliffs and a churning ocean.

Sometimes I feel like all I can do is hang on. My hands hurt, I’m trying not to sweat, I’m looking up at the body of the helicopter, and through the roaring winds and blades my only coherent thought is that if I can somehow hold on, and climb up, there’s safety, sanity within reach.

But I’m at the mercy of this machine, this force that is barreling in directions I cannot control. And as the ladder swings, and I flail to get a foothold, fear like ice, I instinctively wrest my gaze from the helicopter.

Suddenly, I see.

The burning sunset. The emerging stars. The horizon, patient, gently curling beyond. And the ocean, the beautiful abyss breathing beneath a million bright lights.

Things I couldn’t see from any place else.

And it occurs to me: how lucky I am to be hanging from this helicopter.

city of angels, pt.2

2007-06-12T23:40:00.000-04:00

DAY 2

Friday, June 8th. I was supposed to meet Mark at 9am in Santa Monica to look at a property, but there was no way that would happen after the late night. Also woke up groggy with that feeling of having been on antihistamines that ran out (which is exactly what was happening). Still, perked up a bit when Hana crisped up some thin-crust pizza for breakfast before heading out to her office. I spent the morning crafting follow-up/networking emails and such, then headed out into the perpetual LA sun.

The goal was to take a Culver City tour with Lisa (my best friend from high school), then have lunch at Meltdown with Matt, my friend-slash-(full disclosure) ex-boyfriend who’s a writer-slash-editor, then make chocolate chip cookies in time to join Mark at Elliot’s by 5:30pm for the chicken roast-off. Sounds easy. So why did it feel so hectic?

[EM note: wait… I decided after writing DAY 1 that this is far too detailed… so I will try to cut down on facts and focus more on impressions…]

Part of it was insisting on getting GOOD chocolate chips from Surfas, a chef’s gourmet supply store in Culver City. But ccc’s suck when the cc’s suck. Then there was hunting down the secret ingredient to making them crisp: corn syrup (ultimately “borrowed” from Matt and his wife Juliane – thank you!). And, picking up other ingredients at Trader Joe’s, and (recycled material) paper plates from Ralph’s… Ah, how easily one relearns the art of taking left turns through yellow lights, and the constant scanning for parking spots! But in the company of friends, it was all good.

Skipping to the party itself – the only thing I can compare it to, really, is a wedding. It was all family* and close friends (and close friends of close friends), many of whom we don’t get to see more than once a year, and tons of mouthwatering comfort food, and just barely enough time to spread the love. Mark has since regaled me with tales of struggling to cook ten chickens on the grill in time for dinner, but they pulled it off… ok, my mind just wandered off there remembering how YUMMY every juicy morsel of meat was. When the birds and the three-cheese mac’n’cheese** came out, it just turned into a free for all, and any hope of conducting a survey on organic vs. regular, honey-mustard vs. margarita went out the window.

But ultimately, the evening was a smashing success – we got dozens of people excited about the store, and willing to not only spread the word but look into real estate questions, offer business advice, etc. There was heated debate (?) as to what neighborhood needs this store the most (I think we’re leaning heavily toward the Bluestone Market model, not the Firebird Roasting Company) – and downtown has emerged as an up-and-coming contender. Through much of this, I was running around keeping freshly baked chocolate chip cookies coming from the oven and didn’t actually sit down to eat until long after the rush. Note to self: don’t let store turn into a restaurant….

Didn't crawl into bed until about 4:30amET again. But I think the "high" from the evening and most excellent meal blew the cold away.

*At least 10% of the guests (i.e. 3 out of 30) were pregnant; one was my sister-in-law Beth, who was about to pop any minute -- but still made it to the roast-off! The countdown continues....but not for long?!

**Cheeses this time were goat, Comte and cheddar.

P.S. Photo credit for top picture: Hana C. Ogawa.

...and again

2007-06-12T19:00:00.000-04:00

It's another downpour. And this too will pass. The day has been a perfect reflection of my emotional moods: clear skies, swift clouds, dark storms and violent, cleansing rain. Actually, it's a perfect encapsulation of life -- how one follows another, then shifts again.

A trite sentiment perhaps, but struck me this moment nonetheless, as another to-ri ame rolled through.

p.s. you may have guessed: I got my period again.

when it rains...

2007-06-12T15:14:00.000-04:00

...it's a DOWNPOUR. I have a great view from my hard-won castle corner edit bay, and I love it. At one point I could see blue sky reflected on a skyscraper beyond, while huge drops of rain plummeted onto the stone terrace just outside my window. Now, the entire sky is silver gray, and the sounds of growling thunder and pounding rain are soothing, filtering in.

20 minutes ago, I was under the trees and sun with my friend Dave M, blissfully chomping down on the famous Shake Shack burger in Madison Square Park.

This is what I'd miss about New York.

city of angeles, pt.1

2007-06-11T01:56:00.001-04:00

It’s 2am ET, and we just got back from California. (Granted, we were up till at least 4amET for the past few days, so actually it’s “early.”) I had all sorts of grandiose ideas about diligently reporting from the front lines in Los Angeles. But truth be told – every minute there was too precious to spend writing on the computer. So, I’m going to cheat and do it now – as though we are still there. Stay with me.

DAY 1

We got up at a semi-ungodly hour (5:30am, me officially sick with a nasty sore throat) and pushed to get to Newark Airport in time (parked in P6-31, P6-31…) – only to then sit on the tarmac for close to an hour. But, these days airlines pad the estimated travel time so much that we landed at LAX technically only about 15 minutes late.

Still, our clock was ticking on a tight schedule: we were to meet Mark’s friend Elliot at his place by 1:30pm, go up to Santa Monica and check out a market/deli called Bay Cities and have a sandwich, and then split up into two cars – they would continue on to look at possible store fronts for rent, and existing gourmet markets, while I headed down to USC for a conveniently scheduled career seminar at 3pm.

Unfortunately, despite not checking any bags, the whole trip to the rental car agency, etc took as long as these things take, and I ended up scarfing down an avocado, cheese and baguette at Elliot’s before scooting onto the good ol’ 10 freeway. (Apparently I didn’t miss much at Bay Cities except an inexplicable spectacle – Mark says it was mobbed, despite serving mediocre sandwiches.)

I won’t go into the details of the seminar itself, which was fruitful, but I must say it was really… refreshing, to go back onto campus after a good 5 or 6 years. It’s summer vacation now, so the place was pretty empty, which allowed the shadows of my time there to bubble up wherever I looked: the walks down 34th street, the improvised lunches, the hanging out around the Lucas building and the sound stages, and mostly, the loading and unloading of C-stands, ARRIs, camera cases, sandbags, etc etc into the hatchback of my little blue Acura (which I totaled one day on the way to a sound mix) or giant cube trucks – whatever the shoot called for. I also felt young and excited again as I descended into the courtyard where I met and bonded with lifelong friends, and poked around the post production building, where I spent many many afternoons, nights and weekends either editing my own films or earning some tuition by “supervising” the joint. I suppose there’s always a sense of nostalgia when returning to a school or other place that defined you, but this had an unexpected effect – of reminding me how damn fun it is to make movies.

Anyway, after basking in the ticklish feeling of being old and young, wise and naive, jaded and dreamy-eyed all at once, I drove the natsukashii (memory-laden) circuit back to the 10 and up to my dear dear friend Hana’s place. She has been my partner in crime from the early days of film school… and had just gotten engaged last Saturday!!...to, um, some guy named Kyle (lol) I’d met for about five minutes (OK, one evening) about two years ago, when they first started dating. Granted, at the time, I’d immediately had a vision of their wedding, but the engagement was still surreal, considering that other than the fleeting meeting, this man was merely a construction of words Hana had told me over the phone. So it was absolutely the perfect time to be visiting her, and make sure this man actually still existed.

Unfortunately, Kyle had a work engagement that night (so Hana said…), so we headed for an LA girl’s night out to – wehre else? – Koreatown, land of smoky BBQs. (And, ok, soon tofu, but that was not the point this evening.) Normally, I insist on going to Soot Bul Jeep, which provides an authentic and delectable experience over flaming charcoal at the table, but we opted for her favorite new kalbi spot, Chosun Kalbi. And I must say, everything was top notch, from the fast but not overbearing service to the selection and sophistication of the panchan (side dishes)…. Not to mention the star of the show, the short ribs, which were incredibly tender and juicy.

Eating all this “stamina” food, including lots of garlic, gave me a boost of energy to go to downtown Los Angeles to check out Cicada – an art deco restaurant/event space, possibly for Hana’s WEDDING. There, I (think I) had a celebrity sighting: Mary Lynn Rajskub, aka “Chloe” from 24. Ran into her as she was coming out of the bathroom. Anyway, the place was gorgeous: old Hollywood glamour, lush, sexy, elegant, but not over the top. Considering it’s the first place she’s looked at, it seemed a real contender; my only concern is that it might be tough to photograph people in the low light during dinner/dancing. But what do I know…

Alas, at this point, jetlag and the cold (now attacking my sinuses) got the best of me. So we climbed back into the car and swung by a drug store, where I loaded up on a convenient half-and-half pack of daytime/nighttime meds, and some orange juice for the next day.

Meanwhile, across town, Mark and Elliot prepped 10 chickens for the roast-off the next evening (Friday). Six were regular chickens and four organic, half each of which were submerged in a margarita marinade, and the other half in a Dijon-mustard French sauce. When we spoke, he also told me about the highlight of their day: a visit to Le Sanctuaire, a high-end store that caters to chefs. Located in Santa Monica, a prime shopping/residential/beach district, this was actually a potential venue for our store, and apparently it’s perfect – exposed brick, walk-in refrigerator in the back – wouldn’t need any buildout. BUT, there is already an offer pending… and, it only has what’s called an incidental food permit, which allows for cooking/selling things like sandwiches but not much else. Elliot will go to town hall to find out more, but there seems to be little hope. The good news is that properties like this even exist in LA, amidst all the other horrible places they looked at.

Mark was staying at his brother Dave’s last night, while I bonded with Hana at her place (still no signs of Kyle), so we said goodnight – except THEN I found emails from my dad with recordings of the consult at the hospital, so I downloaded three files, listened to all of it, and learned that depending on how my mom does over the next couple of days, she may have to check into the hospital again. So then of course I tracked them down on the iSight, and got a hold of both of them – and thankfully, she was feeling (and looking) better! My dad and I both thought she should at least go back to the doctor on Saturday as scheduled for another scan, but…let’s just say it doesn’t look like she will. Which is good, I guess. This all got me to about 1:30am PT, meaning I’d been up for almost 24 hours, so it was time to finally crash, without reading Hana’s manga (shocking).

OK. Must post this now and sleep. To be continued….

mini-aftermath, etc

2007-06-06T10:41:00.000-04:00

Just so you're not left hanging as to what the hell happened after the last post:

1. I realized that my mom called not the hospital, but the at-home care medical group that she's registered with. Sneaky.

2. My mom had multiple visitors, including the nurse practitioner, and by the end of the day she was feeling a little better. She also took more oxycontin, but it hasn't "fixed" everything by far. The NP called the actual hospital but all THREE of her doctors were not around -- my mom says it's conference season or something. We'll have to find out what to do in such cases!

3. I didn't mention last night that she was also feverish and seems to have a cold. So that's probably part of the loss of appetite.

4. My dad got home, went to get watermelons for mom (she was craving the fluid) and also made soup which she managed to put down. This part definitely sounds like a bad cold.*

5. Tomorrow (i.e. tonight on the East Coast) they'll go earlier than usual to the hospital, and the main concern will be to address the rock-hard intestines. I really hope they can address her overall nutrition too.

6. Yes, I did get the expected email from my dad saying I should have called. Also had a heartwrenching description of what it's been like the last few days. I'll leave it at that. I wish I could hug him right now too.

OK. Have to work now. Thought about not coming in, but realized I left my cell phone on my desk and will need it for the LA trip. Sigh.

Thanks for listening.

*The tricky part is that because chemotherapy damages your immune system, we have to take and treat colds very seriously.

long-distance TLC

2007-06-06T02:12:00.001-04:00

It’s 1 am and I’m watching my mom on the iSight, trying to sleep off her pain. A little over an hour ago, I called her as I climbed in to bed – hoping to finally catch up, get an update from her trip. I figured she’s been tired and we would just chat on the phone for now. But immediately her voice betrayed her suffering. She told me she’s had the web cam on, hoping I’d show up. So of course I immediately got my laptop and turned it on.

I don’t think she’s been so weak and in so much pain since maybe she was in the hospital. Or maybe it seems worse because I hadn’t seen her in a while and had been hoping (despite some hints from my father) that she’s doing pretty well. Basically, between the cancer and her meds, her digestive system is completely awry, and has now really put pressure on her intestines again, so she’s not only in tremendous pain, she can hardly eat or even drink water. Add to that the fact that she’s at risk of developing hydronephrosis. It’s all “normal” and yet of course not normal at all. She’s supposed to go to the hospital tomorrow for another chemo session and to consult with her doctor, Dr. Hayashi, so figured maybe she could just hang on till then. But he’s repeatedly advised against “hanging on,” and encouraged us to call him or the nurse practitioners with any concerns, so I immediately said she should try and talk to or see him.

Unfortunately, it’s the one day of the week that my dad is teaching all day – otherwise he would have been back by now, and possibly throwing my mom in the car and taking her to the doctor. (He will probably get mad at us both later for not calling him, but of course I would have if it seemed the only (or best) option.) At any rate, I managed to convince my mom to take just another dose of meds, and call the hospital while I stayed online. Which she did – and though Dr. Hayashi is just returning from a trip to the States today, and hence hard to get a hold of, the care center found her nurse practitioner and arranged for her to make a house call this afternoon. Meanwhile, she lay down on the couch, and is now fast asleep. (Oh: spoke too soon. She just leapt off the couch, because a family friend is supposed to stop by at 2:30.)

It kills me at times like this I’m not there myself, even just to stroke her hair. I’m just so so so glad that she got online and that we could make it work, and I could watch while she dozed off. It’s the second late night in a row for me (explanatory post will follow), but definitely worth it. I wish she’d let me hang out all day, and be there for the house call – maybe I can wake up again in an hour and a half?? That’s one sleep cycle, right?

Poor Mark tried to stay up with me but drifted off to sleep, despite the bedside lamp being on and my occasional burst of Japanese (I’m wearing headphones so he didn’t hear the noises and voice from Tokyo). So did my mom, again, until her friend arrived at 3p.

So it’s now after 2am here. The nurse practitioner will be there in less than an hour, so tempted to stay up – but won’t. Hopefully I can actually get to sleep.

tokyo dispatch

2007-06-04T09:01:00.000-04:00

When I started this blog, I never thought it would be so hard to begin writing about my parents. (Maybe it's knowing that they'll be reading this too? (Hi there!)) But, much of the impetus was to share information about how they're doing, so I'll just have to bite the bullet. Here goes...

First, a little background information that you may or may not know. My mother was first diagnosed with cancer in 1999. I remember that April, she and my dad were visiting me in Los Angeles, and she almost casually complained of severe stomach pains that kept her up at night. Apparently this had been going on for months, and finally it got to the point where she went to the hospital for a full check-up at the Tokyo Women's Medical University where she was teaching English to medical students. The day of my graduation from USC film school, she was diagnosed with stomach cancer. A week later, she had major surgery -- and stayed in remission for seven years.

Then, about a year and a half ago, she started having problems again. But it had been so long since her first diagnosis, and various tests showed no indication of cancer -- so frankly, we never imaginged it was back. But it was. Is. Our doctors believe it's the same strain of stomach cancer, except now metastasized -- primarily in her peritoneum, or the lining of the abdominal cavity.

She had surgery again last August, and has been on a chemotherapy regimen since then. Aside from the cancer itself, the primary issue is pain control. She suffers from various types of pain, especially after eating; luckily, just a small dosage of medication will alleviate it, but not only does she hate taking pills, they often make her very very tired and unfocused. Lately, she's been trying a new painkiller patch that she just swaps out every three days, and I think she likes it better than oxycontin, which she was taking earlier. But the patch still makes her very drowsy.

Still -- she's often out and about. She teaches part-time every Monday through July; she sings every Sunday morning with a choir (they're preparing for a concert in August); the last two weekends, she's been on trips to the mountain (with her watercolor painting group) and the sea (with her French cooking class). I hardly ever get to see her!*

My dad, meanwhile, has been holding the fort at home, when he's not at school teaching English. Of course, he's worried sick about my mom, and her attempts to convince him to stop worrying have not gone far (particularly as he is the sensitive type). They love each other so much...

I think this is about all I can write right now. But now that the groundwork is there, hopefully I'll be able to post updates more easily.

*By "see," I mean on iSight -- a web cam. A couple of Christmases ago, Mark had the brilliant idea of getting them a camera, so now we have international video conferences on a regular basis. The picture above is from a chat last October. The other picture is a water color painting of kumquats that my mom did.

and the winner is...

2007-06-03T23:20:00.000-04:00

...we got a simple reply: "That's alright. You can stay until the end of February 08."

Mark replied: "Ok, thanks."

After all that angst... now I wish we'd sent the damn letter a long time ago! But then again, who knows how her state of mind at any point would affect her answer.

So at least for now, there is no rush to find a new home (or city!) this summer. And I'll have plenty of time (I think?) to start paring down our possessions for a move. The downside, of course, is that we could have used the savings -- especially with the business and IVF coming up, not to mention the unnerving layoffs starting to happen at both our companies.

One thing's for sure: story's far from over.

pic is of an iris in "our" front yard.

our opening move

2007-05-30T22:27:00.000-04:00

So, we sent off a letter to our landlady and her brother. (Long story on why her brother is involved.) Essentially, we laid out two options. First: if they give us two months' rent, plus use our security deposit as our last months' rent, we would agree to leave as early as September 30th. Second: we would give them two months' notice as soon as we know when we can move, which may be as late as the end of our lease (end of February 2008).

September 30th may seem really far off, but seeing as it's already June, and that I'll most likely be in Japan for at least six weeks around August, Mark & I agreed that's the earliest sane option. Still makes my stomach turn to think about it, but if we get those months paid for, maybe we can hire real movers for a change.

Anybody care to hazard a guess on their response?

P.S. The pic is of our oft-flooded basement.

good question

2007-05-29T11:49:00.000-04:00

Mark got an email from our landlady's brother this morning, asking (with no question mark, thank you): "Have you set your plans for moving."

Plans? What plans? ... Set plans??

They want to bring real estate people in ASAP. So now we'll have people coming in and out of the house all the time. Lovely.

speeding up, slowing down

2007-05-28T17:46:00.000-04:00

It's the end of a precious holiday weekend... and after 3 days of sleeping in all morning, reality is creeping in: pressure's cranking up at work (let's just say I got script notes at 11:54pm on Sunday night); next weekend's busy with rehearsals and an upcoming film project; the weekend after that, we're in LA; we'll also be out of town the last weekend in June -- for starters. You get the idea. I've also got to figure out when exactly to go back to Japan this summer. Really, when or how are we going to pack up and move any time soon? I suppose it will somehow happen whenever we need it to... Just feeling rather panicked. Summers always seem to fly by faster than other seasons, and this one in particular promises to be full of rather dramatic events. I feel dizzy just thinking about it.

Time to go out into the sun and take a few deep breaths. Need to stay focused on taking things slowly, easy, one step at a time. Thank god I have the cats to remind me how.

P.S. I had no idea Sumi had that pattern on the roof of her mouth...

cameo at carnegie

2007-05-26T22:55:00.000-04:00

Lest you think I spend all my days moping about rewrites and procreation, here's an entry about my most beloved activity in the Big Apple: singing with the Russian Chamber Chorus of New York.

You can read all about RCCNY on the website, so I won't go into it here. But suffice it to say that I've been in choirs for almost 30 years (yikes!?), and I've never, ever experienced singing as I have with our maestro Nikolai Kachanov. He's a philosopher, a teacher, a father-figure, and above all, of course, an incredible incredible musician. (And that description really does not do him justice...) The group is an eclectic little family. Every rehearsal is not only a mini vocal lesson but also a spiritual exploration, a salve to the all-consuming exhaustion of modern-day existence. My music sheets are filled with notes and quotes that apply to both how to sing and how to live.

I've lately started to think more and more about the power of the universe that draws us to the people and events that change our lives; certainly, finding RCCNY -- out of the billions of choirs in New York City -- was no coincidence. I firmly believe that. It's been an incredible 5 years of performances in Carnegie Hall, the Lincoln Center, and some of the most beautiful churches in the city -- at times with some of the best orchestras, soloists and conductors in the world. But every rehearsal is just as intriguing and mysterious an adventure, and I couldn't imagine life in NYC without RCCNY.

There will be future musings about RCCNY and the life lessons therein; the actual point of this blog entry is to say that our next mysterious musical journey brings us to Carnegie Hall, on Monday June 4th, for a concert performance of Pietro Mascagn i's Zanetto -- an opera that hasn't been performed in New York since 1902. It's perhaps the funniest little cameo we've ever made (at least in my 5-year tenure in the group): 4 minutes, off-stage, in a piece with no words. It's like the polar opposite of our all-night vigil performance of John Tavener's The Veil of the Temple, which involved much choreography and ran for 11 hours straight (no joke).

That's it. Just a little announcement, preceded by an effort to describe the inexplicable wonder that is RCCNY. Stay tuned.

for example

2007-05-22T17:22:00.000-04:00

Here's a piece of the fertility*-obsessed mind:

One of the stories I'm writing for work is about a young woman who dies from mysterious blood clots. Now, the series is a melodrama disguised as a medical mystery, so there's always a fine line between writing just the facts ma'am, and pumping up the drama. I tend to be rather subtle, and prefer to let things unfold naturally, but that often falls short when it comes to precisely structuring story points...for TV. Anyway, I unexpectedly got a bunch of rewrite notes from the network executive, which threw me off; of course it bothered me, despite knowing there's major upheaval going on at Discovery, and both my bosses telling me repeatedly that they never once thought this script was anything but brilliant.

So I'm doing these rewrites, which are coming along fine, and then I find myself staring down at the exec's comment: "Writing is too sterile." Sterile. I'm sterile.

I know I'm not, technically. Our baby-making predicament is not so dire. But it feels like I am, every month. Every month, when the blood begins.

So the tears came. Softly.

Like always.

*Apparently, the terms fertility and infertility are interchangeable for the most part: i.e. "fertility problem" and "infertility problem." So "they" suggest using "fertility" as much as possible, since it's more positive-minded. You be the judge.

the highlights

2007-05-21T20:21:00.001-04:00

Having promised to explore all the life issues above, I suppose I'm going to have to bite the bullet and start writing about this whole infertility thing. So here goes -- starting with the highlights to date:

Went off the Pill in January '05; started feeling a little inadequate by end of that year; got a slew of tests done in early '06, all of which were fine, and so were officially diagnosed with... "unexplained" infertility. Consulted a highly recommended doctor in the early summer, but then Mark and I were both traveling, then my mom wound up in the hospital, and I went to Japan for six weeks....so we didn't actually get around to treatment until October. By treatment, I mean going to acupuncture, as well as trying artificial insemination -- otherwise known as IUI, or intrauterine insemination -- which is essentially the process of stimulating my egg production, then turkeybasting in the sperm.

Unfortunately, we did this twice to no success, by which point I'd developed a cyst from the medication (a common side effect, apparently). And it was December and time to head back to Japan for family time and holidays, etc., so I focused on taking Chinese herbal medicines. The timing was such that there was the possibility we'd conceive right on Christmas Eve/Day....but didn't happen.

THEN, the insurance provider at my job changed... so I could no longer go to my regular doctor to continue treatment. In fact, this provider claims I'm not covered for ANY fertility treatment anywhere, which I'm still disputing. Meanwhile, I've done more acupuncture, yoga, herbal medication... still to no avail.

Now, there are still many options at this point: continue trying to naturally conceive; leave my insurance provider and find another one that will cover treatment here; look into adoption (?? we haven't really talked about that...) and our current top choice, try IVF -- in vitro fertilization -- in Japan. That could be as early as August, if we can figure out work & my cycle.

So, there it is, where it all stands. Now, it's time for bed, so I'll leave all the introspective stuff for later. Suffice it to say that these two and a half years have been full of hopes, tears, and general confusion.... all of which were tougher to handle without wine (well, at least for me). But, we have faith -- and we know we're not alone.

Hope that answers some questions you've always wanted to ask but never did. More to come.

the sounds in my house

2007-05-20T16:06:00.000-04:00

KCRW/Café LA on the radio downstairs. Mark's footsteps, confident in his flipflops. The rustling of newspapers. Birds outside. Sumi's nails skittering across the floor (I REALLY have to trim them...she's just hard to, um, nail down). The wind, rustling through our (overgrown) yard.

Sunday afternoon. Peace and quiet...without the silence.

off the bone

2007-05-20T11:38:00.000-04:00

Went over to the Turks' last night for dinner. (Russ and Michele are Mark's best friends from Boston College, who now live about 3 minutes away). We celebrated the first farmer's market tomatoes, berries, and fiddlehead ferns, and the mushroom risotto was perfect for the sudden dip in temperature (it's mid-MAY and I pulled out a black turtleneck sweater). But the gold star goes to what is now officially Russ' signature dish: luscious, silky, fine-tuned osso buco. Bravo!

Frankly, I'm a little hung over today, but it was well worth it...

Note to Mark: don't forget to check out the storefront next to Fjord's that the Turks mentioned.

pick a spot, any spot

2007-05-19T17:23:00.000-04:00

Cast your vote by posting a comment to this entry. No holds barred...

chicken or cheese?

2007-05-19T15:43:00.000-04:00

Planning a trip to Los Angeles for June 7th-10th. Airline prices keep bouncing around (and creeping up), though, which is never fun. What a mystery. It's going to be so weird going back to LA thinking we might be moving back there again. Wish we could stay longer than three nights, but we can't bear to use up all our vacation days just yet. God knows we'll need them later this year.

A little background info: LA is on the plate (no pun) as an option for the store, because Mark has a best friend there who would be the perfect business partner -- food-wise, experience-wise, personality-wise -- but he's got a wife and two kids who are rooted in SoCal and we couldn't ask them to pick up and move. Plus, LA could use a good gourmet store.

But -- the other question is: will this be a chicken store (specializing in real, organic, local-farm rotisserie chickens, marinated in a choice of gourmet flavors) -- or a cheese & homemade foods store (think: Boulette's Larder in San Francisco, or Little Next Door in LA, or Formaggio Kitchen in Boston)? The chicken joint, which we call Firebird Roasting Company for now, could turn into a money-making machine with possible franchising opportunities. But in the end... I think the food store, which we call Bluestone Market, is closer to our hearts. I can't wait to decorate that place.

So, we'll see. I doubt the answers will be clear even after the trip. But you never know.

gray days

2007-05-19T15:37:00.000-04:00

A beautifully gray day outside and procrastinating to no end. (But this picture is from near the sand dunes in Colorado.)