Notes from an Indian bride part 2

When our photographer asked where I'd like to have our morning photo session my response was immediate, Bartholdi park. The park is a spectacular little oasis nestled between the federal office building where I got my first job, the building where my grandfather worked, the botanic gardens, and the US Capitol. It is my favorite nook. The park is dedicated to (and graced by a breath-taking fountain by) Frédéric Auguste Bartholdi, the artist who designed the Statue of Liberty, which I find quite fitting. 

We took a lot of pictures, as you might imagine, and most of them were pretty traditional, but I really love these goofy ones. In fact, if I had to pick only one set to have forever, the silly snaps would win hands down.  I feel they capture our friendships so sweetly, and I have plans in the works to make frame them as a set.

All photos by the ever talented Harsheet Patel

Finally, I want to note that yes, there is a distinct absence of Dr. P in these pictures. We decided to get ready with our own families and not see one another until the ceremony. So due to my lack of creativity when it comes to sorting through a thousand pictures, I'm posting in semi chronological order. Which means that my groom will be in the next batch! For those who missed this first round, you can find them here.

Notes from an Indian bride part 1

Note 1: Photographers matter. Something we TDs have learned over the years is that our big loud family demands a very special kind of photographer. The individual must be kind yet firm, flexible, patient, and have a great sense of humor. Add to that mix the intangible quality of "talent" and it's a pretty tall order we're serving up. Luckily, Dr P found Harsheet Patel. He was fantastic, especially given the timeline, last minute changes to the schedule, treks across town, myriad of opinions, and my general aura of chaos, we simply couldn't have asked for more. 

Note 2: I'll stop gushing about Harsheet soon (I don't wan't to make Dr. P jealous after all), but another thing I really appreciated about him is that all of our photos files (all 1000 of them), were included in the price of our session. Which I think is pretty awesome.

 There are so, SO many pictures that I love from the day that I'm going to have to do this in installments. The photos from this post were taken at Mimo's as we got tangled in our sarees. 

More wedding pictures here, here and here!

The Lovely LACMA

Usually, business trips are just that. Business. But this time was different. We saw SO many wonderful friends from so many different places and times in our lives! Ashley from Budapest and her new baby, 3 Adams (no joke. We have a lot of friends named Adam), 3 of Mr. Y's best friends from childhood and their permanent lady friends (whom we are very fond of), some of my dear friends.We stayed with one of Mr. Y's Adam pals and and his lovely wife S. While Autumn has come to the East Coast, it was completely absent in Los Angeles (it was over 100 degrees the weekend!) forcing us to seek cooler creature comforts in the Los Angeles County Museum of Art -- not a bad place to spend an afternoon!  

The Roast with the Most

This week I was invited to sing at a conference for all of these muckie mucks. The catch was that I had to sing a specific song.  I didn't know it ("The List" from The Mikado by Gilbert and Sullivan), the song wasn't suited to my voice and I didn't like it very much. So I decided to change the words... a lot. The gist of the story is there is an executioner who gets to decide who to kill and who to let live, and no one will miss any of them. The conference organizer was essentially trying to get the message across to all of these A-list celebrities, authors, artists, producers, directors, scientists etc. that while they all thought they were very important, there were plenty of other equally important people who were waiting, willing and ready to step in at a moments notice. Since subtlety is not my specialty and since I love to rhyme, I decided to rewrite all of the lyrics and turn it into a roast for all 50 speakers. It was a lyrical challenge, to be sure. I knew that it would either be a huge hit or a huge failure (especially since I hadn't told the conference organizers about my lyrical switcheroo). Maybe it's the diva in me, but I've always had the feeling go big or go home. A frenzy of rhyming ensued. Three multi-hour rhyming sessions later, I had a roast that would either toast me alive or set the crowd on fire. Gratefully, it did the later. Here are some of the folks I roasted. 

Quincy Jones, Yo-Yo Ma (such a sweet man), Herbie Hancock, Matt Groening (I <3 him), David Brooks (aka Mr. Two's conservative boy crush), Mark Cuban, Norman Lear, Julie Taymor, Lyn Lear.

Single, Healthy. Please Date Me.

I read a story in the newspaper this morning. It's about Adam Orna, a 39-year-old postal worker who lives in the Bronx. Whenever he's able, Mr. Orna goes to Union Square Park to advertise himself to the single ladies of New York City. He stands alone in the park holding a neat poster board sign with clear black lettering --

SINGLE,
HEALTHY
LOYAL, STRAIGHT
MARRIAGE-MINDED
GOOD JOB: $55G + OT + BENEFITS
CONDO OWNER
MARATHON RUNNER
VEGETARIAN
PLEASE
DATE ME

It's frank. Unsettlingly so. Not a hint of pith or wit to lure perspective mates. It does not acknowledge that he is a man standing in the middle of a park trying to find a life partner using poster board, clear black lettering, and his unadorned self. Sometimes he has flowers. He hands information cards to any woman who will take one, and he doesn't get any numbers in return. People pass and stare -- some snicker and others wish him luck. Most wonder what on earth he thinks he's doing. So far, he has not been stunningly successful.

I don't know if Mr. Orna is sweet, sad, loveley, desperate, funny, or creepy. Probably all of those. He has gotten me into a vague state of undefined puzzlement, and I wonder what you think of his story?

Note: If you're thinking of giving him a chance, you should know that he was arrested once for vandalizing 800 grave stones when he was 18. He forgot to put that on his sign.

A good season

Gadino cellars

It has been one of the hottest summers on record. Some days the heat stole the breath right out of my lungs. The water from the faucet would never run cold, and the pits of my shirts could never stay dry. Still, it has been the best season of my life.

We fared much better than the crops. Growing prodigiously in size and stature and punctuating our lives with exclamation points some might consider trite. We celebrated babies, and brides, and blessings we didn't know we needed. 

But the autumn is here now. The babies are getting fat, and this week I am suddenly one year older. We bid adieu to this best summer and welcomed my new year with festivities lovely enough to make me blush. I am still young, but I know my own mortality. So why not take the time to celebrate, to wonder, and to savor the sweet bits of life we are given? 

There is a cool breeze blowing, and a hard winter may well follow. But tonight my sweet sleeping husband buries his head deep in my side, exhausted from work and celebration alike. I will soon join him with a prayer of gratitude in my heart for those I have gained, and those who I've lost, and the promise of what is to come.

my handsome husband

The main event!

elevated chips and dip

seven desserts, one plate.

A take-away treat

Word on the street is that we weren't the only ones celebrating there that night.

P.S. We just got all of our wedding photos back from the photographer! So expect some bollywood glam next week!

Bicuits, Belles, Birthdays and Hippos

Since I'm on the West Coast for work right now, I missed a lot of things this week. Just when I was getting sad about Biscuit, three's birthday, the babies in Colorado and other such stuff, I stumbled upon a store called the pygmy hippo in West Hollywood. You may or may not know this, but Three is kindof crazy for hippos.  I stopped, snapped a few pictures. It reminded me that whatever happens, one day in the near or distant future, there will be happy reunions with brothers and sisters, people and pets and maybe even a pygmy hippo. Happy birthday Three!!