Hey Elise // by Elise Hu

Me with my Mommy when I was one and a half.

This Mother’s Day I am feeling especially grateful for my mama, who’s been as amazing as usual as I confront becoming a mom myself. Granted, I’m probably TOO attached to my mom; we travel together a few times a year, talk every morning and I seek her out for everything from cooking lessons via Skype to answers to thorny life questions when I need wisdom/understanding. (When I told her about my ambivalence after learning I was preggo, her response was, “Well, if the baby comes out cute you could probably sell it on the black market for at least 40 grand.”)

This is all to say that I’ve never under-appreciated the connection between moms and their children. So in preparation for this fall’s arrival of Baby Hu-Stiles, I sought out advice and product recommendations from some of my favorite-girlfriends-who-are-also-moms. I’m overwhelmed that these brilliant, beautiful women — one who I’ve known since 5th grade — took the time to share these personal insights with me, and with you. Happy Mother’s Day.

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I had already taken a big swig of the pervasive Washington culture cocktail of press+politicos at the White House Correspondent’s Dinner over the weekend, but at least 100 of those Washingtonians were still game to party on Tuesday, when I co-hosted a soiree to fete our pal Robert’s new book at columnist Kathleen Parker’s Georgetown abode. There, I witnessed a Washington tradition for new books: People turning straight to the index to see if their names are mentioned. Coverage of the fete from The Hill’s Judy Kurtz:

Friends and colleagues celebrated the release of Robert Draper’s new book about the inner workings of the 112th Congress, Do Not Ask What Good We Do: Inside the U.S. House of Representatives, on Tuesday … Draper, a freelance writer, spent a year following the veterans of the House and the newly elected Tea Party members, to get a behind-the-scenes glimpse of life inside the Capitol.

The place is gorgeous-gorgeous, with an expansive courtyard and a roofdeck, and dozens of Draper’s pals showed to toast his new book. More photos, by our NPR intern Julia Ro:

About a year ago, when I ran into my DC-based writer pal Robert Draper while he was on his way to interview someone for his book, I told him that whenever the book came out and he got invited to go on The Daily Show, I wanted to go along.

The book — Do Not Ask What Good We Do: Inside the U.S. House of Representatives — came out this Tuesday, and Draper actually remembered my request. He invited me to join his brother John, girlfriend Laura and longtime pal Colin in attending the live taping at the small Daily Show studio (CAMERAS VERBOTEN!) on the Upper West side. (I tried to hear any distinctive laughter from our little group, but it’s all pretty muddled.)

So I went up around lunch and came home after the show. But because it’s Nueva York, there was plenty of randomness to observe and experience.
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For me, the people in a place always make the place. So I love Taipei because my six months there overlapped with that of other Chinese-American expat-types, also exploring their ancestral roots or themselves, and we became a family in a never-sleeps city with a fast-beating pulse and endless foods and bars and alleys to discover.

I love Austin because I actually stayed long enough to get to know Austin. I eventually came to feel OF Austin, even though the truth is, I grew up in Dallas. I am ambivalent about whether it was better as a gritty hippie town or as the more yuppied-out place it is now. I mainly love Austin because of the friends who became like family there.

Hannah is one of those friends. She’s the most-together person I know, talented in countless ways, and whenever I’m with Hannah, whether it’s for dinner or for a trip to remote West Texas, I know I never have to worry about a thing because she has a plan and a backup plan and a second-backup plan for everything. So I knew that when she married her beloved Jed, everything would be fantastic. And it was.

We were so happy to be back home for the weekend, and I loved getting to spend time with the Austin girls with whom I’ve shared so many meals — and many more adult beverages — over the years.

This is Toddy and me, together. Kind of.

After the ninth day without my voice, I got quite desperate. So I reached out to my ultimate favorite hipster hypochondriac, Toddy Wiseman. He is the type of person who does not drink tap water because it has fluoride in it. (He’s convinced it causes epilepsy.) He also warns of the dangers of aspartame (found in artificial sweeteners) and regularly avoids sending his pH balance out of whack by eating lots of alkaline foods.*

Because the cough drops and teas and vocal rest weren’t working, I asked Toddy for a suggestion. He found one on a Yahoo! forum an EarthClinic.com forum, posted by a woman who uses Yahoo!. It involved drinking or gargling apple cider vinegar with cayenne pepper in it. I went to Whole Foods to get the unpasteurized kind (because Toddy told me to), got a hot dog outside on the sidewalk (because it was a hot dog and it was only $2), and headed home to spike my vinegar with some cayenne pepper.

I wasn’t strong enough to swallow this combo so I just gargled it and nearly puked afterward. Half an hour later I tried it again. The next morning, I awoke with the ability to make some sounds for the first time in more than a week. I sounded like Kathleen Turner with bronchitis. But at least sounds were sort of coming out.

So. While I can’t say for sure, I gargled some of the vinegar concoction at the advice of my friend. And the next day, some of my voice returned. This has not been rigorously tested with the scientific method, but anecdotally, I took some vinegar and the next day I was sort of better. Thanks, Toddy?

*Other Todd wellness practices: Regular cold showers. Consuming spoonfuls of straight coconut oil. A stretch routine every night before bed. Neti-potting every morning.

After 2010′s raucous four-day party in Amsterdam with 30 of our favorite people, I asked nagged some of the attendees to write up what they remembered the most so that we could save them for posterity, since booze and time tend to erase some of the best moments from our memories. I love reading over that post every once in awhile, so I rounded up some Costa Rica 2012 memories, below. (Y’all know I’m a hopeless nostalgic, so my poor friends end up subjected to this activity more than most.)

The pals in Costa Rica in our matching "Sucia Treinta" birthday shirts they surprised me with.

TERP: Oh gee, how bout being TERRIFIED OUT OF MY MIND when you and Matty gave me my assault wake-up call. Or when I nearly went to the Sandanista GITMO because I was wearing a flag defaced with “that Chinese girl.”*
[Terp pauses. Then...] I’ll never forget swinging from treetop to treetop with my newfound friends. We climbed questionable ladder-stairs to the canopy of Costa Rica where goofball Sandanistas flung us down ziplines while flirting with Mon-Pon and calling me FLACO! (skinny.) Then at the end I paid them far less than we owed since I was convinced they were ripping us off… even though they weren’t.

ERICA: I think one of my favorite memories from our week in Costa Rica was the lunch we had at Eat @ Joe’s. We grabbed lunch at this beach-side restaurant whose claim to fame was their “Nachos as Big as Your Ass.” Unfortunately, the nachos were the best thing Eat @ Joe’s had going for it. After we polished off the nacho appetizer and were still waiting for the rest of our order and chalking up the delay to “Tico Time,” one of the wait staff came up to us and apologized for the food taking so long. “I don’t know what happened to your server. I don’t know if he died, or what.” Best. Excuse. Ever. A little while later, our food was delivered; well, kinda. Terp and I had each ordered grilled Mahi that arrived as grilled chicken, and Justin’s food didn’t show up at all (that didn’t keep them from charging us for his absent meal later, though!). The stinky cherry on top of it all, though, was that while we were eating our tardy meal, sewage started spilling toward us from the bathroom right next to our table. Nothing reminds you that you’re in a foreign country like late table service, incorrect or completely forgotten meal orders and a sewage spill seeping toward your table. Pura Vida, for sure.

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TAMARINDO — Why is this trip over so quickly? What?!

I turned 30 at 9:01am CST, but instead of my expected difficulties with this milestone, I felt awesome, cause there is so much love in this house. We’re also surrounded by warmth, sun and gorgeousness so there’s nothing to get upset about.

Tonight, a few of us hiked up the steep hill on which these vacation villas sit to watch the sun disappear into the ocean. Note: It was windy.

TAMARINDO — Each morning this week, I’ve been sneaking into Terp’s room and getting really close to his face, hoping it will wake him up. (It’s not creepy at all, right?)

This morning I tried it on camera and was barely in his vicinity before he stirred.

TAMARINDO — Instead of trying to ford the estuaries this morning, we hung out by the pool at the second vacation villa, Casa Leo Loco. This vid involves people jumping off the second floor balcony into the water and trying to surf in a pool.

TAMARINDO — You are missing out on the evening shenanigans cause the cameras are not great in low light, some of the shenanigans should be censored and well, life passes you by if you’re too busy documenting everything.

So we do have a rather tame daytime boat crossing to throw in.