Amazon is Amazing until....

If we had a conversation in the past month that wasn't about my new workout regimen or the election, I can pretty much guarantee I was waxing poetic on Amazon Prime. I probably berated myself for being late to the party and joining only about 11 months ago. However, I think I've done my part in ordering everything from cereal to orthotics to clear mascara (if you're not taming your eyebrows this way, you don't know what you're missing). I've watched show's on Amazon (Red Oaks anyone? Fast Times at Ridgemont High meets Caddyshack meets The Goldbergs) and of course my ongoing and undying devotion to the Amazon Kindle store.

However, it wasn't til last month that I discovered the Amazon Dash Button. And as with most well-intentioned moves in my life, this one went sideways too. Here's how it all went down.

October 23: I placed my order for 5 of the infamous Dash Buttons. These little gems make remembering to re-order your most common items idiot-proof. You place the little button in the area where you store the product and when you are nearly out of that item, you press the button and voila -- in two days, your item arrives at your doorstep.

October 25: They arrive! I'm so excited I photograph the buttons and actually text this picture to 8 friends who are not nearly as enthused as I'd expect.

October 26: I synch each one up to my wifi, and on Amazon.com I select the exact item to be associated with my account. For example, I always want the Charmin button to order 24 rolls of Mega Ultra Soft. The buttons are self-sticking so I put the Tide one in a laundry room cabinet; the Cascade under the kitchen sink and so forth.

October 27: Unexpectedly I get an email from Amazon telling me that my order of 24 rolls of Charmin are on the way. Well, that's weird. I didn't place an order. Was it possible I accidentally hit the order button while installing it above my toilet paper stash in the garage? I think that's a reasonable explanation and don't think of it again. (Until tomorrow)

October 28: I get an email from Amazon telling me my 12 giant rolls of Bounty Select-a-Size paper towels are on the way. Huh? I definitely didn't order these. Luckily I jump online and cancel the order no problem.

October 29: The aforementioned 24 rolls of Charmin arrive.

October 30: I get another email from Amazon telling me that my order of 24 (more) rolls of Charmin are on the way. What in the name of urinary tract infections is going on here??!! I jump online to cancel the order, but am told it's too late and they've already left the warehouse. I immediately disconnect my Charmin and Bounty Dash service. I also decide to host an exorcism. When I can't find our Ouija Board, I order a new one on Prime.

November 1: The second shipment of 24 rolls of Charmin arrives.

November 2: I ask myself WWRSD (What would Remington Steele Do)? Are my kids effing with me? Is the ghost of Mr. Whipple pissed off because I briefly used Costco brand TP for a few months back in 2014?  Then I find these on the garage floor.

So the culprit is not a mustachioed, bespectacled, lab coat-wearing pitchman from beyond the grave, but in fact a 4-legged goofball puppy with questionable intelligence and an apparent love of online shopping. Yes, Luna Virden, has been taking it upon herself to order an abundance of paper products. With each crunch and munch.

I still think the Dash buttons are awesome for the brand loyal, but beware -- the sticker on the back is not very durable as mine were off the shelf and on the ground in one day. But how can you stay mad this face? It's just too bad I wasn't a quicker picker upper!

Bobby Hoffman: The Legacy of Reluctant Legend

In January 2016, Bobby and I had a conversation that led me to writing him an unpublished blog. This is an updated (and now-published) version of that and what I read at his memorial service, May 2016.

Everything I love about tennis has to do with Bobby.

But not everything I love about Bobby has to do with tennis.

For years, I took his clinic every Thursday morning, but it wasn't until he got sick that we became close.

One of our first conversations after his diagnosis went something like this:

Me: You have quite the Howard County female fan club.

Him: You think I'd have gotten a date out of it at some point.

Me: You're straight?

Him: You thought I was gay?

Me: Well how else could you possibly understand women so well?

We laughed about that a million other things. But it was through many hours at chemo, dozens of lunches and countless chats that we covered some serious and real topics.

He told me that when he realized he wasn't going to be able to come back to work, he was crushed. He said making that phone call to finalize his retirement was one of the hardest things he ever had to do. It meant the end of a nearly 20-year career.

Bobby was proud of the extraordinarily faithful clientele he'd built, but he turned to me with a perplexed look on his face and asked -- what's my legacy? I hope it's not that I fought cancer for a year and that's it. I told him of course not and then made some stupid joke about him being SO private that some people weren't even sure he was actually sick.

But it got me thinking about Bobby's legacy.

I've been fortunate enough that he shared with me some of the handwritten cards and letters his kids had given him for Father's Day, his birthday and Christmas. Not only are they gifted writers, but clearly as kind, sensitive, charming, tuned-in, funny and empathetic as their dad. His legacy to his kids is evident even to an onlooker like me.

But his legacy to the men and women --overwhelmingly women-- of CA tennis is something remarkable too.

Bobby's harem of housewives, myself included, is a fellowship of short-skirted groupies who drank the Kool-Aid of loosen your grip and go down the middle. We keep on our toes, split step if we can, knowing full well if we send a ball into the net, we were still likely to hear "I don't care, I love it!" A ball that lands in a neighboring court could get a "I like what you're trying to do". And if you caught him on a particularly feisty day and got him to exclaim "Ole", you knew you were going to get your money's worth and more.

We've all been on the receiving end of these one-liners, but to me, Bobby's best quality was to put his clients at ease. I always felt better about myself on the way out of clinic than on the way in. How many people in your life have you met that you can say this about? He believed so much in us that we ended up believing more in ourselves. Even if we couldn't hit a winner all day.

He told me that on at least 100 occasions, clients have come to a lesson and ended up hitting no balls. A tennis lesson with zero hitting! They just wanted to talk. Could be about work. Or their families or a hideous match they played last night. And Bobby being Bobby, listened attentively, patted a shoulder, offered a tissue or laughed in all the right places. He said the things we all want to hear from our best friends, husbands, shrinks and tennis pros.

Like many others, I texted Bobby for advice before nearly every match. The wording changed from week to week, but the message always had one constant element -- I'm right there on your shoulder. I'm with you.

When it was clear Bobby was getting sicker, I asked him what he thought about giving me one of his old racquets as a memento. Just anything laying around was fine. The next time I saw him he handed me a ratty old, beat up, burgundy racquet with busted strings. As he handed it to me, he said, "This is the racquet I played with in college.”

I told him I can’t take that.

He said, “I want you to have it because well, you give a shit. I was worried that you might stop playing, but I'm so glad you are going to continue." He was referring to me giving up tennis altogether when it was clear he'd not be able to come back. And of all the things we'd talked about, this was a topic I'd avoided, feeling it was just too raw and painful to discuss.  But Bobby being Bobby -- so intuitive, so tuned in -- knew just where my head was. So of course I accepted that racquet because he chose it for me and well, I guess I do give a shit.

And that's his legacy. He is all the best things about tennis and being a friend. No, not everything I love about Bobby is tennis, but some of it sure is.

Bailey's, Bubble Yum and Beyonce

If we know each other in real life, chances are you've seen me out and about in pigtails. Yes, I'm a (very) grown woman and yes I see the "isn't it sad that she's clinging to her youth in such a desperate way" glances. But the truth is I'm just superstitious.

About 5 years ago when I started playing competitive tennis, my hair was too short for the conventional ponytail so I wrangled it into two pigtails and teamed them up with a visor. I guess I won a few matches that season because then it became "a thing". And now, years later, I always wear pigtails with a visor to my matches. Truth be told, I'm kind of over it and realize the absurdity, but I'm also trying to accept the concept that "that thing" is "my thing" and just go with it. 

This little ritual of mine got me thinking: maybe other tennis players have quirky habits too.

And guess what! They do. I reached out to dozens of players and a handful of pros in my local community and asked if they had any tennis rituals or superstitions. Here's what they shared. (First the regular folks followed by the pros at the end.)

Some think it's all about the ball:

But it might be about what goes in your mouth:

Others swear it's all about what they put on:

Or what about what they let out:

Sometimes it's about Karma:

Sometimes it's more complicated:

Sometimes it's all about the jams:

And now a word from the pros! Here's what they do or did back in their heydays. 

In reading through the pros' submissions, one thing became abundantly clear: the only thing standing between me and a higher rating is incorporating more superstitions and rituals! I'll be perusing this list like a menu and prepping for spring season. If only...

This blog was such fun to write and about as much research as I can handle. Thank you to everyone who took the time to reveal their personal tennis quirks and habits. And a special thank you to the person who submitted the reply below. She gave me a good chuckle and a smidge of self disappointment that I hadn't considered her implied angle myself.

A Step Up: Going from Blah to Beautiful

For years, I've been wanting to do one particular project around my house. It was big and daunting and there was no coming back so we kept putting it off. But this spring we finally took the plunge and I can honestly say, I think the results are pretty spectacular. I have had several clients over the years who I've thought might want to do this same project, but I couldn't recommend it in good faith until I'd tried it myself.

When we moved in nearly 12 years ago, we decided to forgo the traditional carpet runner on the front steps to have a clean, classic look. This staircase would hardly ever get used so I didn't feel that we needed a carpet to protect the steps or provide traction for shoeless kids. But mostly I just thought I'd tire of whatever we chose. (We have another set of steps that leads to the kitchen and knew that those would be used almost exclusively.)

But over time, as with most home decor -- our taste changed. I no longer loved the heavy oak look. I've been slowly adding black to nearly every room in the house and thought black stair treads paired with the existing white risers would be perfect for us.

My husband is super handy and has done many difficult projects around the house including installing a coffered ceiling and a mack daddy treehouse, but this time we needed to bring in the professionals. I'll let the pictures do the talking. Let me know what you think.



Before:

Pretty traditional curved oak staircase.We added the chair rail 10 years ago, but thought that looked really plain too.

Another before view

My contractors came and couldn't have been more diligent or responsible. This is a pretty messy job because all the steps and handrails need to be sanded down to raw wood. They hung plastic sheeting all around the house to block off any blowing dust. The tools are noisy, but I'm hardly home during the day so that wasn't too disruptive. I loved that they vacuumed and packed up all the tools at the end of each day and the job was done in less than a week.

Choosing what finish to put on the steps proved to be one of the bigger decisions. My contractor brought in the regional rep from a nearby paint store and we talked at length about stain versus paint and which product to use. I felt strongly that I wanted the finish to be black and be durable. I wanted some sheen, but didn't really need it to be super shiny. We chose a product called Interlok by McCormick Paints. It's a premium acrylic urethane DTM coating that dries to a super-hard finish. Plus it cleans up with soap and water. We had it tinted black. The contractor tried out samples for us -- we only needed to decide semi-gloss or high-gloss. 

We chose the black high gloss which is on the lower step. It's perfect.

And here's what the finished product looks like as modeled by Scout, the Wonderdog.

I think the final result is super chic and clean. We added the window box moldings and are so happy with the result. Coordinating dog at no extra charge.

I love how the teal accents pop off the black and white contrast.

It's really fun to see a long-term vision finally come to life. 

Greyish Green With Envy: Color Trends 2015

It’s that time of year friends! Time to raise a glass and toast the Benjamin Moore color trends for 2015. 

As we say farewell to the current title holder, Breath of Fresh Air, we warmly welcome the NKOTB (sans Marky Mark's brother and the rest of the gang) Guilford Green. 

And the Benjamin Moore 2015 color of the year is....
Was there an acceptance speech?

At first I thought, oh great — just when I got my clients to look beyond the sage of 10 years ago, here we go again. But upon further investigation I see this color is not the same ol’, same ol’. It’s a silvery green that's a natural neutral. Just the right color to go with pretty much everything. 

Check out the whole 2015 palette -- broken down by color family, below. Feeling adventurous? Let’s find a spot to use Old Claret or Jack Pine. Looking for something a little more mellow? How about Antique Jade or Silver Fox? 

And just because these are the color trends for 2015, by no means do I plan to stick to or suggest these 23 colors exclusively. It’s true I do have an ongoing love affair with Ben Moore, but that’s because they have the most colors and best paint. 

If you’re ready to update your colors, I’m your girl.

And please, for your own safety and sanity, never choose a color from a computer screen, smart phone or standing in the paint store. You really, really need to see the swatch in your own home with your own lighting. Consider yourself warned. 

Let's say adios to our current title holder Breath of Fresh Air. It's been a great year and I think we'll be seeing each other again real soon. 

Societal Pressures: Keeping Me On Track

Having concerns about social pressure is nothing new. It's something, as a mom, that I've come to expect and talk to my kids about on a regular basis. 

What I think we sometimes forget is that kids aren't the only ones having to deal with pressures from society. Sure, for years I've known from magazines and TV that I'm not thin enough, tall enough, blonde enough or buffed enough. 

But just a couple of years ago I learned that another part of me wasn't up to snuff. Turns out I had sucky eyelashes. Luckily Brooke Shields let me know I could paint a product on my eyelids and after a few months, no longer embarrass myself. How could I be living my life all these years with inadequate lashes?

photo credit

And more recently, I was lucky enough to learn despite doing it my entire adult life, I actually have no idea how to buy toothpaste, pasta, soda or anything else sold in a grocery store. 

According the extreme couponers of the world I'm a complete flunkee. I do not spend each week collecting dozens of newspapers and searching online sites for coupons. I do not clip, organize or arrange them by the hundreds in plastic divider-lined binders. I do not shop with several family members and use multiple carts. It does not take me many hours to check out and I do not have a separate room in my house for my stockpile. Yes, they all call it a stockpile. 

photo credit

I'm the fool who thinks buying my toilet paper at Costco is being thrifty. But from the looks of it, I now know I have no business setting foot inside a supermarket, big box store or the like without further training. 

All joking aside, I cannot believe that I actually feel a little badly about this one. Unlike other pressures, this actually seems like something I could do. I don't want to, but I should be capable, right?

So now, each and every time when I mumble to the cashier that I don't have any coupons, I hang my head in shame. A shame that is only trumped by the fact that I forgot my own reusable grocery bags. Again.