Skadoosh!

I come from a family of exercisers.  We go on vacation and still show up at the gym at 8:00 am, on a late day.  We walk everywhere, due to my mom’s insistence, as she thinks any two points connected by land are within walking distance.  This morning, I accompanied my mom to her Sunday spin class.  I don’t know if any of you have ever taken spin, but it is DEATH. Don’t get me wrong, it’s a great workout and I love doing it, but while you are on that bike you want nothing more than to curl up in a ball on the floor and pass out. 

This was not my first spin class.  That was on vacation and we thought it would be fun to take a class in the workout facility one afternoon.  We were not aware, though, that we would be the only ones to sign up for spin.  So there we were.  Just the four of us with an instructor who didn’t speak English and spent the whole class barking, “Andale!” at us.  Fifteen minutes in and we were all panting like diseased animals and sloppily wiping the sweat from our foreheads with our towels.  All of us except for my mother. Against all laws of nature, my mom does not sweat.  She occasionally gets a faint glow, but never a droplet. 

My mom loved it,  and started going regularly at the gym near our house.  She was so excited the first time she took it.  She came home and said, “It was so hard it even made my elbows sweat!” which, for my mom, is a huge deal.  So she has been attending religiously since, and we even bought her special spin shoes for her birthday.  So intense.  I didn’t take spin again for a year and a half, until my mom coaxed me into a 90-minute torture session on Thanksgiving last year.  Sure I felt better afterwards, and it COMPLETELY justified Thanksgiving dinner, but still. It hurt.

If we are going to talk about the family workout plan, I have to tell you about Don.  Don is a weight instructor and my parents have worked out with him for years.  Jake decided last summer that it was time to get buff, so he started working out with him too.  That just left me as the family weakling, until this summer when I, too, began to work out with Don.  Now, Don has become a household legend. He only cares about the Chicago Bears, and eats meat and tuna fish for breakfast.  He can bench hundreds of pounds but has four little min-pins for pets.  So I was eager to meet him.  And when I did, he already knew 90% of my life from what the rest of my family had told him.  But that’s not the best part.  My mom and Don have come up with nicknames for everyone in the family, and they are all pretty good.  My mom is Walking Lady, or WL for short, due to her obscene amount of walking.  My dad is Scotch Man, SM, because he once thought he had a better workout because he had a bit of scotch the night before.  Jake is Late Kid, LK, due to his sleeping schedule keeping him from early morning sessions.  My nickname was a bit harder to come up with, but my mom had an epiphany and it stuck: Casper.  I am so pale that I joke about being translucent. Once I walked in to Don’s a few days after getting a manicure and he said, “Wow, it’s good that you got a dark color on your nails because now I can tell that you have hands!”  Yup.  So that’s me, Casper the friendly ghost. 

 The latest addition to the Silverman workout tradition, however, is nothing more than a word: Skadoosh.  Jake came home from school saying it, and nobody has any idea what it means.  But it is the one word that encompasses all of the magic of a great workout.  It says, “Yeah, I might be sweating like a pig, but I still look good because I am a beast.”

So we all know that working out requires many supplies.  Water, shoes, towels (well, except for my mom).  And you can’t carry all of that stuff by hand.  So when you are looking for the perfect workout bag, you know where to find one.  Buy a tote bag, take it to the gym, and you’re set.  Skadoosh!

-Emma

  

Supper Club

I graduated! No, not from high school, silly.  From the Susan Silverman Culinary Institute.  So I am finally somewhat proficient in a kitchen.  Last night, Jake and I had our end of summer/proving we can cook celebration with our family.  We planned a meal to cook for our parents, and we spent all of yesterday in the kitchen.  I had plenty to prove, because nobody in my family had any confidence in my cooking skills.  When I suggested to Jake that we make dinner for our parents (it was actually my mom’s idea) he responded quite bluntly with, “No! You’re a terrible cook!”  So it took some convincing, but I got him to do it.

The menu consisted of guacamole, tomato and feta salad, grilled chicken, and chocolate-peanut butter cupcakes.  I handled the salad and the cupcakes and Jake tackled the rest.  We ended up with a great dinner, and aside from me burning my arm on the oven door, there were no disasters! 

All of this got me thinking about the end of summer.  I have officially become a not-so-horrible cook after months of practice, and now it is time to say goodbye to a wonderful summer.  Jake is leaving soon for his semester in Washington D.C., school starts next week, and the leaves are changing.  Well, not yet, but you get the idea.  It’s that time of the year again.  Time to put your bathing suits away and shove your extra sunscreen in the back of a storage closet.  (But if, like me, you have translucent skin, you can keep the sunscreen out for a few more weeks.) 

Not everything about the start of fall is bad though.  I mean, come on now, let’s talk about fall clothing!  I have been anxiously eyeing my sweaters for weeks now, hoping desperately for just one chilly day to throw on my favorite oversized wool v-neck.  And even though this may sound a little weird, I can’t wait to start wearing socks again.  I don’t think many of you know this, but socks are my favorite article of clothing.  I have a monumental collection of thick wool hiking socks, tube socks, knit socks, knee-highs, ankle socks, men’s socks, you name it.  But seriously, my feet have been going through withdrawal.  So there’s that to live for.

But with the start of fall and, for many of you, school, what will you be desperately in need of?  A tote bag of course! Something large and sturdy enough to carry your books in, but also stylish and clad in fall colors.  Luckily you have come to the right place. So when you are planning your fall wardrobe, don’t forget to get a new bag.

-Emma

Tradition

This week is all about tradition: The Mother-Daughter Weekend. Every year, my mom and I go on a pilgrimage to the city for one night during the summer, usually in August.  We have been doing this for six years, so we have it down to a science.  We have learned from past experiences, and have perfected our routine.  The weekend starts with a full day of power shopping.  And trust me, I am not exaggerating when I use the word “power.”  For weeks leading up to the date, we cut out articles in magazines and newspapers about new stores, cool areas, and killer sales.  We compile a list of all the stores that we must hit, and those that we could stop at if we have extra time. List in hand, we set out in the morning and shop until I start to feel a bit dizzy. 

Next, we check into the hotel, drop our stuff, and set out for dinner.  We eat and then walk around downtown Chicago for a bit before returning to the hotel for a movie.  We scan the list of movies that the hotel offers, usually choosing one that both of us hate and later regret watching.  But that is no matter, because my mom always falls asleep within the first hour.  This year, however, was different.  I looked over at her three-fourths into The Lovely Bones (which, by the way, we both enjoyed) and saw that she was still awake.  I think that I actually did a double take because I was so shocked and dumbfounded.  This is the woman that fell asleep during The Bourne Identity when it was blaring in our living room with surround-sound.  So that was a first.

More importantly than any of this, however, are pillow auditions.  Now, pillow auditions are not unique to this weekend, as they occur every time my mom leaves the house for a night.  Nevertheless, this is the perfect opportunity to talk about them, as I witnessed them on this particular trip.  My mom is extremely picky about her pillows, and a pillow can either make or break her night.  So just as she is about to fall asleep, she lines up all the pillows in the room and tests them out one by one.  And when I say all the pillows, I really mean it.  Not just those on her side of the bed, but everyone’s pillows must face my mom’s cruel judgment.   As the pillows wait nervously on the side, my mom plucks one from the pile and places it on the bed.  She begins the session by rolling back and forth across the soft white cushion, but then begins to thrash violently about, so much so that I often get up and watch from the other side of the room.  She then insults the pillow, saying things like “Ugh! Horrible!”  and throws the poor thing to the floor, where I pick it up and try to comfort the dejected little cushion.  I swear, sometimes I can hear them sniffling in the corner.  She also has different categories for the pillows.  The overly soft ones are called “tushie pillows” because they enclose your face from the sides.  And the “potato sacks” are the lumpy ones.  I got stuck with a potato sack on this trip. 

All joking aside, this overnight trip called for a bag that I could take shopping, carry some of my clothes in, and take to dinner.  Can you guess which one I chose?  That’s right, my tote bag.  So when you find yourself going on a weekend trip and you need a bag to do the job, you know where to find one!

-Emma 

Make It Work!

This past Friday afternoon was magical.  Why, you might ask?  Well, the answer is simple: Project Runway.  I had just finished my last day of work, and I was exhausted to say the least.  I drove home, and sat in the car for a moment outside my house, thinking.  The day was a bit overcast, and the air was hot and sticky.  Not a particularly nice day, and it all felt sort of gloomy and sad.  I kept thinking that I should have had something to look forward to at home that day, but I couldn’t put my finger on it.  I walked in the house, cut up an apple, and went into the family room.  I flipped through the channels, not finding anything interesting.  I perused the list of shows we had recorded, and that’s when I saw it: a new episode of Project Runway.  Immediately, I leapt off of the couch and went to find my mom.  “THERE IS A NEW SEASON OF PROJECT RUNWAY ON!!!!”  She dropped what she was doing, and together we scurried to the family room to start the show.  Giddily, I pressed play and we sat, mesmerized, for the next hour, only discussing our likes and dislikes during commercial breaks.  Like I said, it was magical.

This tradition goes way back.  My mom and I religiously watch the show as soon as I get home from school on Fridays.  So the emptiness that I felt in the car resulted from the absence of this sacred practice.  We watch each season with the deepest interest and the most careful analysis.  As each season ends, we grow sad at the loss of such a happy ritual, but eagerly await the next cycle. 

The last time a season began, I was in the car driving home from dance.  I was listening to the radio, which is extremely rare given that I only listen to mix CDs.  Thus, it was fate that I should be flipping through stations just in time to hear a commercial for a new season of Project Runway that was starting that night.  I picked up my phone to call my mom immediately, and she was so happy that she did not even bother to scold me for being on the phone while driving, also a rare feat. 

Project Runway is more than just a weekly event for my mom and me.  Even Jake loves it!  His female friends used to sucker him into watching it, but I really don’t think he minded.  He would sometimes meander into the family room when my mom and I were watching and stay until the end of the episode.  He also does a mean impression of Tim Gunn.  We all love to offer a good, “make it work” or “go go go!” every once in a while, but Jake’s impression takes the cake. 

So where does this all tie in with the bags?  All great outfits require superb accessories, and what better to accessorize with than a cute bag!  When you are getting ready to go out and you need that perfect purse to go with your look, you know where to find one. Choose your accessories carefully, and make it work!

-Emma