Frisbae

In the morning, David and I returned the master bedroom to a sleep-deprived Mad.

Then David and I couch-cuddled, readied coffee, nommed on leftovers and chocolate-banana bread. Tom brought us to see Sophie and her team play in the national ultimate frisbee tournament.

 

After the Brutes’ frisbee victory, we found a nearby Mexican restaurant and placed a big order. We satisfied our appetites then dropped things at the frisbee team’s Airbnb before heading to Moonlight Beach for a swim in the Pacific.

 

We left Sophie with her team and traveled to Newport Beach to meet up with Caroline, Kristin and the rest of the Dougherty clan.


My laptop stays put away. Husbometer data tracking again postponed.

Leave No Trace

The flight consisted of:

  • reading
  • writing thank you notes
  • watching Leave No Trace
Movie poster for Leave No Trace.
Leave No Trace tells the story of a father and daughter who live off the grid in a Oregon state park. They are discovered and displaced. The father is struggling with PTSD, though succeeding at raising a strong, capable kid.

There was an empty middle seat in my row. I appreciated that the flight was direct from Newark to San Diego. I spiked my seltzer with orange juice, and chased it with tea. Pretzels were complimentary.

Mad picked me up. Our reunions are seldom now, and its been years since I’ve seen Paul.

The drive from the airport gave me a calming sense of coming home. It was good to see the San Diego city skyline again. I admired the speedometer in the mini cooper. We talked about homelessness. We pursued frozen yogurt, but the store closed on our arrival. Instead we ordered late night Chinese food and brought it home to eat. I decided to try eggplant in plum sauce.  Excitement held off my jet lag exhaustion. We slipped into our easy way of talking and being together. When I was ready to sleep, they insisted on my taking their king size bed.

In the morning, Paul was gone to work and Mad was restless on the couch. We traded places and she retreated to the dark bedroom. I napped on and off. I read For Whom the Bell Tolls, wrote a thank you note, and nibbled leftovers while sitting on the sidewalk in the California sun.

The evening brought many good things:

  • outdoor mall shopping excursion with Mad
  • ramen noodle dinner with Mad and Paul
  • airport pick-up with Paul
  • David!
  • car tour of San Diego and the navy base with Paul and David
  • hanging out, talking, eating leftovers
  • sleep!

I postponed logging husbometer data and the blog. I had to estimate and backdate content. The benchmarking period has come to a close. We found that the true average is nearer to 0.6 —

Help from Dad

California

I’m surrounded by anxious travelers. The flight to San Diego is delayed. Time to squeak out a post.

In other news:

  • Mom is out of surgery. Everything seems to have gone as expected. Hopefully, the same will be said for recovery.
  • Grumpy morning for David, after a night of poor sleep. He has an important client meeting today. While I prepped for my departure to California, I cleaned up the apartment bedroom and took care of some stressors (laundry) – so hopefully David will have a restful night. I’m excited to meet him in California tomorrow.

The United Airlines terminal at Newark is fancy. There are many chic restaurants and well-equipped workstations. My flight gate moved 3 times, but it was cool seeing different parts of the terminal (C).

Pumped out some work. Excited to settle on my flight. I’m near chapter 31 of Hemingway’s For Whom the Bell Tolls. I’m eager to finish it and start my next read. There’s a lot of build-up for the end of this novel. The main character is settling into bed before the day of the bridge-blowing.

Good night and good luck, blog readers. See you on the other coast.


PS. Tomorrow is the last day of the 100 days “benchmarking period”.

Cancer

Dear Mom,

I’m thinking about the moment you walked me down the aisle. I’m thinking about tomorrow. I thinking about the year behind us. A lot happened.

I just got out of the “synchronous” part of my online class. The class is called Library Planning, Marketing and Assessment. David and I squabbled after class. I was telling him about one of my assignments, and before I finished, he was telling me how to do it. I wasn’t listening as well as I could have been when he began talking. I could tell he was fueled by a stubborn passion and the experience of his own work in marketing. It’s possible that he said something to the effect of:

Find out where they’re spending money. Find out who’s seeing what you’re putting out there.

He disappeared back into League of Legends. I stormed into the kitchen and settled back at my computer.

I’m turning my thoughts to tomorrow. You’re going in for surgery to remove the trouble spots. I remember seeing them on the scans when we met that surgeon at Smilow.

I’m flying to California tomorrow night. I want very badly to be with you, and to support you tomorrow – as you have done for me my whole life.

I want to visit during your recovery, when Mitch has gone back to work and things start seeming quiet again for you. To help in any way I can.

Mom, you’re the strongest woman I know.

Love,
Samantha


The trip to California is centered around a Saturday memorial for David’s Aunt Joss. The first time I met Joss was on a CD in David’s car. She was on piano. I met her in-person when she gifted everyone the last-hurrah trip to Paris.

David comes to the kitchen to reconcile. He opens with an apology for being mean and a hug.

You categorize it in terms of paid and earned media.

You measure it in terms of dollars spent and time spent.

Those are the two sections of your report.

And maybe you do a brand guideline.

It’s really that simple.

Here’s the dollars, here’s the time, here’s the output.

You don’t remember school at all? I say. He says no, and makes a comment about higher education. I invite him to see the very detailed 7-page outline of what’s expected for my final report.

He looking at the outline and getting excited again. He talks about spending time and money to earn media. He says,

“Marketing and communications is the study of paid and earned media.”

I ask him questions to get deeper and try to learn more. He perceives it as an attack on his competence and freaks out again.

He expresses feeling a certain way, and I ask him not to take that out on me.

I’m remembering the gist of a book I’m reading for work: It’s not what you say, it’s what they hear.

I would add to that: it’s what they feel.

I think this could be an important insight for my marriage.

Speaking of which, husbometer check-in:

Line chart of Husbometer progression. Looks like a mountain range.
Will we ever again reach honeymoon highs?