November 10th, 2012


I'm on the way to the pool. My Saturday class is my favorite. It's at a pool that is not close. From my front door to the pool's front door is 15-20 minutes if no traffic. Usually on Saturday mornings there is not. The instructor is a good one and generally there are fun people in the class. It's a lovely way to start the day.

I wish there was a handy class every morning at 8:30. I'd totally be there. Alas, most of the city pools are turned over to schools in the mornings. My 'home' pool - the one two miles from here doesn't open for me until 11.


I don't have any big plans for the weekend. There aren't any movies playing that I want to see. And I have no errands or chores that need to be done so I'll just be playing it by ear. First swim and then brunch.

The birth of me

I got the papers today to initiate my IBM pension (I should have done this 18 months ago. I have already left a wad o' cash on the table, dagnabit!) and they need my birth certificate.

I have purged so much paper in this house that there are precious few places to even look for shit like that. I found it in place number 2. And for the first time in my life, I actually looked at the details. Thanks to Google, I could even get details on the details!!

birthcertificate (1)

(Yes, I totally get the risk of exposure here. I have given it thoughtful consideration and decided I can live with any consequences.)

I love that while my father's job details are duly noted, there are not even slots to slug in my mom's.

I never went to 110 Clinton Ave. when I was in New York but Google's Street view makes it look lovely! And it looks like a tree grows in Brooklyn, indeed. My folks used to describe their apartment in this house as a walk in closet. The refrigerator was in the living room because the kitchen was too small for it.



The three of us only lived there about a year. Before my sister was born, we split for New Jersey.  

I also found two social security cards - the original that I got when I was a teenager and the replacement that I got in my 30's when I got married and changed my name.  As I recall the replacement arrived about a month after the marriage ended.  I had contemplated changing my name again to separate it from my husband's but going through the hassle was just too much trouble and that was back when it was easy!


I had brunch today at a place that only offered those high bar chairs.  My feet dangle with no place to rest and by the  end of the meal, my thighs are numb.  I'm too old and too fat and too dedicated to comfort to enjoy a meal perched on one of those things.  If there is a place to put my feet, and the seat is not hard wood and there is a comfortable back, I'm not quite as cranky about it but I'd really be uncool and sit in regular height chairs to eat.

I also was squished into a tiny space at the counter so the only way to keep my napkin handy was to tuck it into the waist band of my pants which I did.  

When I got home, I pulled down my pants to pee, and the restaurant's napkin dropped to the floor.  Oops.  It must have hidden under my tunic top.  It's a nice, black cloth napkin... which I'll put in the car and hope I'm near the joint sometime and remember.