15 Feb 2026

I hope you had a nice week, even better if it led to a three-day weekend! Short weeks always throw me for a loop though, so while I appreciate a long weekend, I’m not sure the disorientation of the short week that follows is a worthy tradeoff.

Personally, I am a big proponent of the 32-hour work week. I had a short stint of working this schedule when I was switching over from public relations to social media marketing within the same agency and it was the best I’ve ever felt while working full time. I think everyone’s mental health would really improve if we got away from the “hustle” culture that is so popular here in the U.S.

This is a nice segue into my list of notable things from this past week. I’ll start off with something I enjoy that I probably would not get to do often if I had job that required me to go into the office.

• Volunteering for the Kindergarten class

Maggie and Eugene differ vastly on their level of comfort when it comes to my school visits. For Maggie, school is not only her physical separation from home but also her emotional separation. When she was in Kindergarten, if I showed up to see her at the school-wide singouts or anything like that, she would become upset and want to come home immediately upon seeing me. Although she doesn’t get as upset now, she is generally hesitant when I ask how she would feel if I volunteered for her class, so I let her tell me when she would feel comfortable seeing me during the school day. On the other hand, Eugene doesn’t seem phased to say hello and goodbye to me when I show up, so I try to help out in the classroom at least once a month, more if they are short on volunteers.

The privilege of my position is not lost on me. I know many parents wish they could volunteer but can’t due to work or other obligations, so I try my best to take pictures of the kids and send them to their parents if I have their numbers. I personally miss the number of photos I’d get from the preschool when my older kids were there, so I hope it’s a nice treat for the parents to see what their kids are up to in the Kindergarten classroom.

This week I opted to volunteer at the snack station for the Valentine’s Day party. I bought the Pillsbury Valentine’s Funfetti cake mix and some frosting so the kids could decorate their own cupcakes. I remember my mom buying the Pillsbury slice and bake cookies all the time. Though I find their stuff too sweet to enjoy these days, I always feel a sense of nostalgia when I see the Pillsbury Doughboy.

My relationship with my mom is generally fraught, but parenting has made me appreciate her efforts that I can remember (I honestly can’t remember much at all from my childhood.) My mom worked as a graveyard shift waitress for my uncle’s restaurants for years, and somehow she still found time to come into my classroom on special occasions and helped out during parent-run school lunches. Of course, much like my children now, I never said thank you to her for all this when I was a kid, but I hope she knows I appreciate it now, thirty something years later. I can only hope my kids will be grateful for me some day, even if that day is years down the line.

• Slow down for the slug!

Maggie is deep into Girl Scout cookie season which means it's time for my bug-everyone-I-know campaign. Thankfully, I seem to know a good amount of people who either enjoy Girl Scout cookies or at least enjoy supporting Maggie's troop, so we've started making deliveries. Deborah ordered a couple boxes of Thin Mints, so we brought them over to her after tje girls’ dance class on Tuesday.

It was a gray, wet day and I anticipated a quick drop-off, but Eugene spotted a slug as we were about to leave. It was getting dark and I was getting hungry, plus the other girls were waiting in the car, but Eugene wouldn't budge; he wanted to watch the slug's journey. Eugene is usually a mile-a-minute guy and often gets bored with any activity that doesn't keep up with his pace, so I was surprised to see how much he enjoyed seeing his new slimy friend. Seems a bit cliché, but it was a nice reminder for me to slow down. I am almost always rushing to go somewhere or get somewhere and I don't often stop to appreciate the little things. I'm glad my kids can remind me to do that sometimes.

• The photo booth magic illusion

I have always been drawn to photo booths, especially the old-school analog photo booths where you strike four poses and just hope for the best. When Joe and I got engaged in 2012, we were looking around at engagement photo packages and lamenting the cost. Did we really need an engagement photo shoot?

Joe used to work near the (now defunct) RayKo Photo Center in San Francisco. We must have used them to process a few film negatives in the past because I don't know how else we knew about their analog photo booth. We both loved the idea of using photo strips for our save-the-dates, and I treasure them to this day especially since RayKo is gone.

Photo booths have seen a surge in popularity recently, something I am super excited about, but I was humbled recently in my attempts to become more involved in the analog photo booth community. I have a love-hate relationship with social media: Social media is essential to helping me discover new businesses for my freelance writing and (perhaps ironically) analog photo booth placements, but historically I have spent way too much time scrolling and comparing myself to other people. I have really had to scale back on my social media usage for my own mental health.

I had been interested in learning to become a photo booth technician as a hobby and reached out to several companies and individuals for guidance. I was surprised to be met with mostly crickets given how fun and accepting the community seems to be on social media, but I guess that's all part of the illusion. The technicians I've seen all seem to have met each other through social media or online somehow, but that's the thing too: I'm never going to be super active on social media, unless it's for work. I won't be discovered on TikTok or anything like that, which puts me at a disadvantage in today's day and age. I just want to learn how these awesome machines work! Is that so much to ask? Apparently, it is.

I did hear from one technician and photo booth owner, Jen Grasso. Jen is based in the U.K. and has worked extensively with photo booths, most recently compiling a book with Marco Ferrari (also a technician) chronicling photo booth technicians all over the world. She told me that there are millions of people trying to learn the craft and with only a few hundred photo booths left, competition is stiff – so companies like Autophoto and Photomatica operate with a business model of museums and placing booths in locations where it makes the most sense financially, like a bar or a restaurant. I could think of several places that would benefit from having a photo booth, but I don't own any of these businesses so I have no power to make such decisions.

Maybe someday a technician would be willing to teach me, but for now I guess I'll just stick with being on the other side of the camera. Recently, I took the kids to take Valentine's Day photos at the Photobooth Museum on Market Street and had a splendid time.

• Michael Pietro, October 2nd 1931 - November 17 2025

I was not lucky enough to have a close relationship to either of my grandfathers. My mom’s father passed when she was young and my dad’s father was very uninvolved ever since my dad was a child.

I am not related to Michael Pietro by blood, but he the closest thing I’ll ever have to a real grandfather. I remember when Joe and I started dating, Grandpa would host Sunday dinners with all of his children and grandchildren (18 total, with one in heaven. We love you, Dominic!) It took me a while to get a coveted invite to one of those dinners because the family was so close-knit, but when I finally did, Grandpa welcomed me into his home with a big hug.

Grandpa is the reason Joe grew up so closely with all of his cousins: He ran a successful hotel and building business with properties in San Francisco, San Mateo and St. Helena, and he also built homes for himself and his children in Hillsborough, Carmel-by-the-Sea and Lake Tahoe. Joe has a lot of fond memories of his grandparents’ home and of vacations with his entire extended family; they went as far as France all together back in 2009.

The reason we haven’t moved away from the Bay Area, despite the cost of living, is because Joe wants our children to have close relationships with their grandparents the way he did with his own grandparents. I tell our kids all the time that they are so extremely lucky to have their grandparents and great grandparents nearby.

I remember Grandpa asking me if I’d like anything to drink the last time I was at his home for dinner a few years ago. I told him I wanted one of his famous Manhattans and watched him as he tucked behind his home bar to mix me his signature cocktail: six parts Jack Daniel’s, one part vermouth mixed together casually in a glass. Throw in some ice, a lemon peel, and you’re golden. In no way does this drink resemble a traditional Manhattan, but it was Grandpa’s. We clinked our glasses, I told him that I loved him, and we drank together.

Grandpa had been bedridden for a few years before passing away this past November. I miss his warmth and the full laughs he had cracking himself up. I can hear his voice so clearly still in my mind. At our wedding reception in his backyard, I held it together for the toasts until Grandpa came up and gave his, detailing the memories he had of a little Joseph, his first grandchild. Teary-eyed, I felt so happy that he was my Grandpa now too.

I stayed back to take the kids to and from school while Joe and my parents attended Grandpa’s funeral service on Friday. On Saturday, Valentine’s Day, I made one of Grandpa’s Manhattans.

Cheers, Grandpa. I love you. I hope it’s nice up there in heaven, and I look forward to the day we can enjoy a drink together again.

My little moment of joy that I’ll leave you with: a nice, warm bath does wonders. I had the rare opportunity to soak in my tub for a few minutes while waiting for the kids to peel away from their Friday night video games. Pure bliss!

One of Grandpa’s favorite songs was Frank Sinatra’s “My Way.” Have a listen anytime you need a reminder of how to live your best life.