1. Do something that scares you. I dyed my hair purple this afternoon, for the Avon walk and my friend Dawn. Ever since A started doing his beard again, it’s been like an itch I couldn’t scratch – dyed hair does not go over well at a law firm. Which means that if I dye it, I have to cut it. And that’s what scares me.  Long hair, fairy tale hair, has always been a part of my identity. Even when I’ve cut it short from time to time – and I’ve never gone pixie cut short, which is probably what it will take to look “professional” again” – it’s always been on the understanding that short was a temporary measure.  So I’ve held off on doing something I really wanted to do. Well, fuck cancer, and to hell with fear. I’m doing something that scares me.

2. You haven’t lived until you’ve played mini golf with a two and a half year old. My brother came to see us for the weekend, and we took Z mini golfing for the first time. It was a riot. She rolled the balls, granny bowling style. She walked them down the green and gently dropped them into the cup.She picked up our balls, sometimes returning them to us, sometimes bringing them to a “better” spot. And a few times, she even hit the ball with the putter.

3. Invincible with my headphones on. I fell in love with Matt Nathanson’s music way back in ’04, but I’ve rarely been able to see him play live. A and I got tickets and a babysitter for the show tomorrow, but then the babysitter had to cancel. So if anyone’s interested, I still have an open ticket for dinner and the show. And if all else fails, I will totally rock going to see him play by myself. Because Matt Nathanson.

4. I might be addicted to New York. I’m not sure how or when or why, but the city has slipped under my skin and settled in to stay. Most of my trips back east lately have been to the D.C. office (because, reasons), but this last one was NYC. It hit me on the walk from the hotel to the office – the frantic, throbbing energy, the pulse of subway and bus and taxi, tourists jostling mothers jostling suits. All the time we lived in the city, I felt like it was pushing me away, telling me I didn’t belong. Maybe it’s the distance. Maybe it’s because I am finally home. But I can finally see that while the city might have been saying “leave,” what it meant was “stay.”

5. Love each other. It’s been a rough week, and I don’t think it’s going to let up any time soon. Hug your loves, reach out to someone you haven’t spoken to in awhile, and above all, be gentle with each other. We are all of us fragile things.