What a Difference a day makes....

I've moved! You guys are the best - all the archives have been moved over as well, so please update your sites accordingly. Or not - you know, whatever floats your boat.

Flirting with risk is not my nature, madam

A Poll for the three of you: Would you follow me (meaning: update your links, etc) to WordPress? Tell me true, now.

and the Mama Bear said...

"Don't screw with my family, you nosy little trespassing baggage, you!" What does this tale of ursine homeownership have to do with anything, you ask me? Put it this way: When Japan bombed Pearl Harbor, Yamamoto was reported to have said that they'd wakened a sleeping giant. When someone makes me mad, it is a bad, bad idea. You know, without getting to Soprano-esque about things - its just that I'm less tolerant than your average bear. To wit:

When an arguer argues dispassionately he thinks only of the argument. - Virginia Woolf

I am rather agree with this point - what's the point of debate just for the pleasure of batting opposing viewpoints around in a game of idealogical badminton? I don't mind disagreeing with someone, but you must be passionate about your feelings on any given matter. In proper company, I don't mind having a debate with someone - and I did mention that I have a temper, right? Happily, these days, it takes a lot to get me deeply and righteously pissed off. If you were interested in doing that, one surefire way to do so: Make baseless personal attacks on my friends or family.

I recently had occasion to be really and truly angry at someone - but I surprised myself and continued attempting to have a discussion with them. For various and sundry reasons, they were not in a mood to discuss, but continued to attack Scotts' character. (Mistakenly). I asked them to give an/some examples of when he'd supposedly wronged them, and they declined, saying that it 'didn't matter', and that 'he's just out to undermine me'. None of this could be further from the truth, but I still didn't get mad. I pointed out that it was irrational of them to put me in a position between a friend and a family member, and that if they couldn't give me specifics, it was time to back down because they were accusing him of some pretty mean things. They refused and said that I 'wouldn't believe them."

(This is the bit where I got mad) "Ok, well I've got an early morning and a lot of emails to reply to, we've got to go," I chirped acidly. Scott, along with everyone else in the room, hadn't heard any loud or angry voices, was looking at me, bewildered. You, the person who never wants to go home? You....want....to go home? Whaaa? I could almost see the thought bubbles forming around his head.
"Hmmm....ok, just'a sec, babe, I'm playin-"
"No. NOW. We have to go NOW." (eyebrows raised)
"OhhKAAAAY." (weird look)

I waited all the way till we got in the car to start yelling - an improvement for me, sadly. I got a half-assed, passive-aggressive 'apology' email last night, the icing on the cake. I didn't fire off an angry note in return, though- my response was carefully calculated to explain how unnacceptable the actions were, how bad the words they used about Scott made me feel, and (of course) exactly how, where, and finally, precisely which areas they could stick various body parts into if they still felt I should tolerate such behavior. Of course, I wrote bits saying, 'hey, I don't hold your behavior the other night against you forever....you're still a friend in my book" and the sign-off was firm, but friendly.

I got an email back today that said, "Wow, that was a really difficult email to read. You were right. I got it." Mission accomplished. So I have a question for you, after all this: What do you do when someone tears into your loved ones (without grounds) - do you a) keep quiet and hold a grudge against them b) lash out in high-pitched shrieks that only the neighbors' dog can hear? c) say nothing, but unleash a torrent of hateful remarks about them behind their back d) punch them and walk away e) never speak to them again or e) talk them to death or f) resolve it like a normal person.

Please vote, really - I'd love to know if I'm the only one who likes their rage served ice-cold, full of razor-sharp barbs of truth and the Jello of common sense, topped with a Cool-Whip-y serving of proposed reconcilliation.

Numbers and Letters and thingys

You may have read that Holly and Janet are turning 27 this week? - Let's all say it together: "OohHHhh my gahhhhd.....Tweeeeennnnnteeeee ssseeeeevennn - ooooOOOOOOoooohh that is OLLD! I know of what I speak, being an entire two months and change ahead of them. Seriously - I've been blissfully savoring every moment of my, ahem, MID-twenties, right up till the other day. There were not one, but several Bad Things (Bad Things = silver hairs) and I haven't been able to stop peering at myself in the mirror ever since -not for the pleasure of getting an up-close and personal of my stunningly awesome combonation of adult acne and papery eye skin, but just to see if I can find any more of the little bastards. So far, I haven't found any, but they are lurking, to be sure. The only consolation I have is the fact that I've held out against the Bad Things for a full decade longer than my mom and aunt (due, likely to the fact that I don't have kids - yeah! aNOTHer bonus!)

However, there are more weighty matters at hand: First of all, guess who's turning THIRTY-FRICKIN' NINE in....two days? Mmmmhhmmm....we are officially only one. year. away from this scenario:

= 40. As in, "Yes, my husband is in his forties."
+

= 28. As in, "Yes, I have only been able to legally purchase alcohol for seven years, why do you ask"? Should I just go ahead and start saving for a blond wig and a convertible now? I kid, I kid - and he wants a Porche and prefers me as a redhead. To be honest, I've been waiting for next year with some sort of sick glee since we got married - I couldn't really say why, but something about being in those particular decades is sort of (Family stop reading now, no NOW, no RIGHT THIS SECOND)

..........................I can see you guys trying to scroll down. Go take a hike or something.
.......................................................................
Seriously, take the dog for a pee or go make something out of wood.
..............................................................................................................................................Now.

All clear? The whole 40/28 thing? It's sort of....hot to me, I really couldn't say why - apparently I think I'll morph into some sort of extra-youthful almost-thirty just as he's entering the big 4-O decade. Clearly, I am delusional. But it's sort of nice to wish, right? But seriously, I do have one or two other bits of trivia here.
First, a small toot of my own horn (tooot!) I would like any and all of you who are able to go, right now and purchase the current issue of Santa Barbara Magazine (which should really be called, "Montecito people who live here 3 weeks of the year and like to have their picture taken in expensive clothes."). Open to the "Weddings" section. Clap your hands for me, for yes, yes, that is my couple on the full-page shot. Thanks. Also, a short poll: Do you think I should feature that particular shot as part of an ad I'm getting?

And now, it's time for How The Heck Did you Get Here?, February 07 version. (Otherwise known as "Copying the phrases people Googled and ended up here in lieu of actual posting.") Let's see if it sticks as a regular feature, shall we?

• cats dogs incestous feral - Ummmm, we don't have dogs. And the cats are NOT related, and they just kiss and hug each other, so this is an all-PG household, thanks.
• pictures of a coral pink ( pinky orange) bedroom - Well, aren't we specific?
• video of seacrest tearing griffin's blouse at awards show - I'd actually like to see that - anyone who has this, please go ahead and comment, will ya?
• little girl squirrel 60s tv show - I really don't remember this one, but we do occasionally call Edie the "little girl squirrel".

Live from....

Hello everyone!

This is a quick live post from FABULOUS LAS VEGAS! Courtesy of the (gorgeous) Venetian hotel and its' high-speed internet. Do y'all have any more suggestions? Helpful hints? Tips? Treasures of the deep? De-lurkage? (anonymous who just commented....a-hem...you're welcome back any time!)

Summary of last night and today coming later...In the meantime,....Comments, yo! COMMENTS!

In the immortal words of the Beatles, HELP!

I have it on good authority that this week is National De-Lurking Week (A-HEMM!!). So...I propose a new sort of commenting, as follows:

First commenter gets to start the topic with one true and one false thing about themselves, plus one question for the next poster.
Next commenter tries to pick the true thing (more interesting that way), answers the question above, posts their own true/false, and repeats above direction.

Let's see how far we can take this...Vegas, Colorado, San Jose, entire Eastern Seaboard...lookin' at you. Go to it!

Time Marches On - A request for athletic supporters

Death March 2007 is tomorrow. Here's to the hope of another mostly sunny day...Seriously, wish me Tomorrow is another day like today, only warmer, will ya? If not, I'm going to have a crowd of chilly, grumpy people slogging along through the sand, silently cursing me and wishing they'd gone to the movies instead. Adding to my trepidations about the weather is the fact that we'll have the Pokey Little Puppies with us. The Who?, you ask -

BEHOLD, THE POKEY LITTLE PUPPIES

Tell me you can't see the resemblances here:

Cute round little "snouts"? Check.
Short, round tounges? Check.
Round little button-y eyes? Check.
Round over-sized heads with little ears sticking out? Check.
Extra-squishy little round bums, limbs and rounded feet? You betcha!

Ok, now that my ability to anthromorphize a human child into a cartoon character has been firmly established, we can move on to the science lesson. This morning, Scott awoke with the sudden notion that the tides were going to be pounding us into the cliffs somewhere. I assured him that no such thing would be happening, but here is a chart, just to establish my research was correct.

Every day has two high tides and two low tides - they go up, come down, go up, and come down every 24 hours or so, according to the season and the position of the moon. A negative tide is an unusally low tide. As you can see from my handy chart, we will be enjoying an extra-low tide for the majority of our walk tomorrow.

Day High/Low Tide/Time Height/Feet Sunrise/set
Monday Low 12:49 AM 2.4 7:05 am
High 7:16 AM 6.5 *
Low 2:42 PM -1.4** 5:00 pm
High 9:23 PM 3.7***

*Tide up, but going down steadily from seven in the morning onward - we start at about ten-thirty. The tide will be **going down, down, down until almost three, and than will ***start coming up again. However, it won't be nearly as high as it was in the morning, and won't reach the high mark until four and a half hours after we're done.

As long as everyone keeps moving and doesn't dally over lunch, we'll be in good shape. Wish us all luck and show your support in the comments!

Please note also: Am still taking suggestions for what will undoubtedly be our family's version of Vegas Vacation - Sans gambling. Thank you!

Viva la familia

I am not one for the making, to say nothing of the keeping, of resolutions - New Year's or any other time of year. However, I am all for having something to look forward to - when I was little, one of my favorite things to do was to make paper chains, meant to count down to something, anything. Looking forward to a vacation, an event, a day...anything, was key.
First, out came the

safety scissors, next, the thick, slightly rough craft paper - the kind that Mr. Rogers always used. Next, draw straight, vertical lines across the paper, and cut along them. Tape one strip closed, slip the next into it, tape closed, and repeat. If you want to get fancy, use opposing colors, like yellow and purple. Make links for every day except The Big Day, tape the chain to the wall, and tear off one link every night. Et Voila! - instant (delayed) gratification. One day closer to the trip to the zoo, family vacation, visiting the grandparents.

These days, I tend to look forward to things other than a trip to the zoo, winter break or visiting my grandparents. The latest thing I'm happy to say I'm looking forward to is a generous family vacation, courtesy of The NorCal Crew (Scotts' sister), next month. I'm told we'll be put up in the beeeeyouuuteeeful Bellagio, and anticipate spending long, sunny January days next to one of the three pools. Without my phone ringing, my email ping!ing or my conscience nagging me to call someone. Maybe.

Which brings me to an embarassing truth: In all my travels, I've never been to Las Vegas. So I am asking, nay begging, you readers for the following:

• tips on how to eat, drink (especially drink!) out there without breaking the bank.
• what to do/see/avoid on the Strip.
• free swag. How to get it.
  
• Ways in which to shieldeth thy teenaged nephew's eyes from all the flyers of hoo-ha, ta-ta's and other body parts Which Ought Not Be Seen on a Flyer. Ever.
• Ways in which to maketh the scantily-types stay far, far away from thy teenaged nephew, because you do not want to be an eye-witness to the corruption of his mind.
  
• How to see the tiger show for free or cheap. (Sensing a theme here?)
• Any other do's and don'ts, in general.

Free swag, passes, help with the suntan in January, et. cetera happily accepted.

Zoophoric

So...I guess I'm the only one who likes grainy videos of one-ton hominids appearing out of the Rawandan jungle and scaring the ever-lovin' guano out of a bunch of British photographers? Apparently so. How 'bout these apples? Watch this and tell me it doesn't remind you of sitting in a verrry.....lonnnng....meeting.

Since yesterday was the third Sunday of the month (and I am cheap), we spent a couple of hours cruising around the Natural History Museum, browsing their various bird, bug and bone collections. We were also able to get up close with an American Kestrel (kitty hawk or sparrow hawk), a Screech Owl (so small! so cute! so able to puncture your finger!) and a beautiful, broken-winged and half-blind Red Tailed Hawk. I've written about how much we both love birds, especially birds of prey*, but yesterday was a nice reminder. I grew up going to this museum, the zoo, and of course the beach, so this brings back a lot of good memories for me. What are/were your favorite places to go when you were little?

*Gorgeous, extremely effective pest control and unlikely to poo on your head and ruin a day at the beach or park.

Women and Children first

Well, don't I feel (a bit) silly? This week, three of my favorite sites (Chookooloonks - run by the great and talented photographer/mom/lady Karen, The Naked Ovary - A very funny mom, Karen and Kristin from Debaucherous & Dishevelled) shut up shop and are now moving on to other projects. Oddly, I feel both sad and some twinges of slight embarassment about feeling sad over not being able to click on their links and 'check in' with them anymore. Naturally, I don't know these three ladies and their families (the adorable Alex, much-loved Maya Papaya and nifty Nolan were/are some of the cuter kids I've seen...ever) personally, but by sharing such a large part of their lives with the General Public, you (I?) felt a friendliness towards them. In the short time I've been reading and shorter time since I've been writing, a number of fun sites have closed, gone 'password protected' or just stopped posting.

It has come to my attention that most of these sites were, to use the vernacular, mommyblogs. Many of those that I've seen close up shop or go password protect did so after intimating that weirdo/stalker types tried to contact them/did strange things with their kids' pictures, or were just Mean and Hurtful. Note to any of those people: Get a frickin' LIFE, already. I've also noticed that for every cool, funny, fun site run by a parent, there are about....ten that make me feel like a box of Lucky Charms has thrown up in my mouth, what with their pastely tickers and preshous chilllldreennn. Throw in posts that are entirely comprised of sappy anecdotal evidence that little Susie/Johnny is the next Einstein because of their latest pooey nappy and the bright orange streaks in it. Obviously I don't a) return to their blog b) comment, either positively or negatively and I keep my opinions about their sites to myself - again - who cares what I think?

The question I have is: What is UP with people a) stealing content and trying to pass it off as their own b) harassing, stalking or tampering with a stranger(s child)? Don't they have better things to do? If these people had an ounce of creativity, they could at least attempt some sort of funny, snarky commentary on things that need to be picked on. You know, like Dubyas' public speaking skills, or the insane consumerism of America, or how desperately most of the actresses now need to eat a sandwich and lay off the crackpipes when choosing their outfits (and partners). Or my incredible run-on sentences and painfull grasp on grammar. Why must they spend time hounding someone who in all likelihood, started their site to keep in touch with friends and family or as a personal writing/journaling project? Oh look! I've found yet another reason not to have kids: Insane people posting mean notes about our family on their MySpace page.

What say you, readers? What say you?

How to Dismantle an Atomic Incubator

First of all, would you please go over to Miss Doxie's place and write her a little condolence note. She lost her doggie, Tasha, to a sudden illness and is having a rough time. Thanks. While you're there, you might also want to buy something from her store - she's got the most adorable paper products and fun dachshund-related toys. Seriously, humour me and take a look.

R.I.P. Tasha

Conversation between clueless, well-meaning person and me - Could also be titled "Why I Avoid Talking to People Unless it is absolutely Necessary"

CWMP: (tapping child-related magazine) "Child rearing. You know anything about that?"
M: "Nope." (Smile fading, gritting teeth)
CWMP: "Ahhh, c'mon, you must know something about it..."
M: "Oh, yeah, there is the one thing - 'avoid at all costs." (smile thinning, executing half-turn, but unable to totally walk away due to silly notions of respecting your elders, manners)
CWMP: "Nooooo, really? But you'd be such a good mom."
M: "Really? how d'ya figure?" (eyebrow cocked to a defcon 3 danger level)
CWMP: "Well...you know, they do have this biological clock thing, you have heard of it, right?" (tapping wrist to indicate that time is ticking, clearly my ovaries are shriveling into useless little raisinettes as we speak.... after all, I'm all of twenty-seven, better start main-lining Clomid and orange juice and avoiding tuna and soft cheeses.)
M: (thinking stinging remark, biting tongue) "Well, yes, but in our household, we combat that with plain old Common Sense and Reason." Venomous smile, full turn, exit.

Why? I'd like to point out that I do not wear mom jeans, have a "sensible" (perish the thought!) mom haircut/color, drive a mini-van, or have any interest in seeing Happy Feet or watching the Wiggles. My outfit at the time included: Four inch pointy-toed heels (black) low V neck sweater (black) and a cute gray knee-length skirt that Scott refers to as 'sexy librarian'. Also: black nail polish, smokey neutral/gray/black eye shadow and deep red lipstick. Conspicuously missing from this outfit during a rainy afternoon were an umbrella and stockings for warmth. Seriously...someone tell me, what the hell is wrong with people? As I asked Scott over a beer at Santa Barbara Brewing Company, "Do I really look like nothing more than an incubator in training?"

In Search of

Slightly embarassing truths that will surely come back to haunt me, part the....some...dredth.

1. My deep and unabiding love for Indian/"Bollywood" films knows no bounds. What's not to love about ending every. single. movie. with a mass dance sequence? Also: The Indian culture has an appreciation for curvy women that I can only wish Hollywood would embrace.
   
2. Today, Edie has repeatedly been in "Time-Out" (read: locked in one of the cat carriers) for hissing and growling and generally being mean to Fynn.
   
3. I'd far rather hang out with Jack Black thank Jude Law.
4. Failed to see the point of applying pants thus far today, ate Pop-Tarts for breakfast.
   
5. With regard to Item #2 - Due to said growling/hissing/Fru-its of E-vile noises, I put Edie atop our closet. Approximately three hours ago. She just now jumped down to the couch. Despite being fixed, I swear she still gets the kitty version of P.M.S., the little beetcha.
6. Due to the fact that my teeth have now started to hurt after I drink champers, I am in somewhat desperate search for the accurate recipe for a Suffering Bastard. Heaven forbid I give up drinking altogether, right? You see, there are so many different recipes - starting with this one:
   

   1 1/2 oz rum
   1 oz overproof rum
   3/4 oz Orange Curacao liqueur
   1/2 oz orgeat syrup
   1 oz fresh lime juice
   2 oz fresh orange juice
   And also this one:

OR: 1 part gin,
1 part rum,
1/2 part lime juice,
dash of bitters,
1 part ginger ale,
all served over ice

The one (ok, ok, two) I had at Trader Vic's a couple of weekends ago were garnished with a cucumber spear, mint and half a lime. Apparently, I'm not the only one in search of the true recipe for this tasty libation. Your help in this matter would be truly and deeply appreciated - I'm planning on figuring out how to feed it to Edie the next time she acts up.

System Not Responding

Technology and I have a long history, most of it running along the lines of the following dialogue:

Computer: Please see your cnltr. drg. menu and re-snarg your dltr. drive.(I'm pretty sure this is computer-ese for "You. are. totally. screwed. Go ahead and take the day off.") (Alternate version: Completely freezes, five to ten minutes into whatever I'm doing.)

Me: "$#$_@%%@@!!!! Wha......how the.......#)@)!_!__@!!", etc. Rinse, repeat, add someone coming over and saying, "It's SO. EASY. You just......" and proceeds to repeat the same flappin' action I've just performed, my blood pressure spiking. Shame.

Once, I actually had a "Talkback Incident" (somewhat common in Macs) where the computer said, "This was not my fault." in a creepy, evil, Hal-like voice, in response to my phrase, "stupid computer, why won't it just ____". Happily my sister was sitting right next to me and can verify this story. This served the dual purpose saving me from investigating the wide world of anti-psychosis drugs and gives me a bit of credibility, in case you think that story should be chalked up to a champagne bubble to many.

Growing up when making the turtle on the Mac walk around and create a little rainbow-colored flashy sequence or playing Oregon Trail was the extent of the options, I was invariably the kid with a hand in the air and a pained expression on my face.

Later on, I was able to parlay my amazing system-freezing talents (the ability to freeze thirty networked computers within five minutes of entering a room) into a number of useful things; getting extensions on papers that I had barely started, fairly good typing speed, suddenly 'free' periods (which may or may not have been used to visit the beach) and the occasional helpless eyeroll/free homework pass from a teacher. Generally, the eyeroll would be from a teacher who could not stand to watch me squirm like a worm on a hook for one more minute on a beautiful Friday afternoon. Good old Carp High education - I managed to put together a good portion of my junior years' yearbook while working on my tan.

These days we are an all-Mac household, but I am painfully slow to pick up any sort of computer tricks (to say nothing of my nunchuck or bowhunting skills) or cotton on to any technology of any sort. Notice the use of the phrase "cotton on" here. As a blogger-in-training, I'm not part of a Flickr pool (mostly due to the tragic dissapearance of Ruby), I don't get linked very often, I haven't a clue how to customize a template or make a cool "button" link, and most of the time, it doesn't bother me.

What does bother me is the fear of being left so far behind in technological advances that I will cease to be able to communicate with the outside world. So I ask you, reader(s?)...what techie tips have you found a) simple b) helpful c) useful in day-to-day life or blogging?

The Answers

First can I say this? I love, love, love Trader Joe's black taper candles. They illuminate without drawing any attention to themselves at all. Next, I have devised a set of the Answers that I would like to have printed up on pretty, pretty paper with a cool font and borders...possibly by Joy? They should be small and tear off, about like a raffle ticket. I'd like a roll of them to carry around with me at all times. Here they are, in no particular order:

-Congratulations! You are 10, 57_th person to meddle in my personal life! See bottom for prize details.
-No Womb in Here. (Or: Not Just an Empty Womb)
-Child-Free, not Child-less.
-Maybe you can suggest how exactly we should be doing it for "optimal results".
-Accepting contributions for adoption fees. Visa or MasterCard?
-Because my heart is made of coal.
-Just as soon as you reverse your cranio-rectal inversion.
-Far too depressed over missing the deadline for bearing the 300 millionth American
-As soon as you can explain to me how exactly that is your concern.
-Far to Selfish. (Totally O.k. with that.)
-When I figure it out, you'll be the 47th one to know.
-Fertile with Ideas.
-Haven't got our parenting license in the mail yet.
-My Hips Do Lie.
-Because I broke my egg-baby in seventh grade.

Your snarky additions welcome.

Helena Hand...bag - A Contest!

I'll admit it, frankly: I've never been terribly skilled at accessorizing - yes, I collect shoes, but I've only recently purchased a couple of purses for myself, and yesterday's earring purchase increased the collection by about 75 percent. (Collection stood at: diamond studs, silly silver hoops, mother of pearl large tear-shaped dangles)

• c. 1997-1999: Pale blue 'shopping bag with long handles' in sturdy vinyl/plastic - cute enough at the time, went all the way to England with me. Graduation gift.
  
• c. 1999-200-something: Upgraded to Prada, (via ex-boyfriend) a cute, black, medium-sized tote that I schlepped around all over the place until I was completely sick of it - about four years after everyone else was oooover it.
• 
• Mid-2000 - Occasionally alternated the Prada with a cool vintage clutch, lined in bright orange - a gift from my sister-in-law, or the tiny black or white beaded evening bags she gave me. Found the following truths to be universal: 1. Clutches are cute, but ye must clutch them, all night long...through cocktails, wind, rain, appetizers, shaking people's hands. They tend to migrate to two areas of my body, and end up between my knees or tucked up in my armpit. Neither are attractive or appropriate for a purse of such cuteness. 2. Tiny beaded purses that cannot simutaneously house a compact and a cell phone can only live in the Elysium fields of my imaginary social life - you know, the one where I get to attend (as a guest) parties that are a cross between Breakfast at Tiffany's and The Great Gatsby.
  
• 2005: Bought a cute (small) black purse, just big enough to lose my keys in, from Target. It is dead and will not be coming back.
  
• Recently: I got really sick of having to hand-carry binder(s), phone, lighter, etc around or try and stash them somewhere out of sight every event I do. In a moment of weakness, I dashed over to Ross (let me pause and hang my head in shame here) and grabbed a sturdy, open-topped satchel. Not the prettiest, not the smallest, it boasts three open-topped compartments, a zippered center divider, and an outside half-height pocket. Scott hates it, and keeps pestering me to tell him what the fashionable gals are carrying around these days.
  

I've discovered a two-fold problem with this new purse: Scott hates it with the fire of a thousand burning suns, and it holds a lot of crap. To wit, I am currently carrying around the following items, among others:

Beauty:
-Cute brown/white scarf, purchased yesterday
-50 small bobby pins, tweezers.
-Mac products: NC 40 pressed powder, bronze "powersurge" eye kohl, foundation brush (yes, I know, yes I clean and dry it regularly)
-Free sample of Clinique repairwear SPF 15 anti-aging makeup, too light, gets blended with other products, such as my almost-denuded cheap, water-based foundation.
-Two lipliners (light pink, medium lip-tone), black eyeliner, mascara, deep red "Rhapsody" lipstick purchased with my sister in Colorado, 'raspberry' Clinique lipstick (gift with purchase, happens to look good), 'Downtown Brown' matte lipstick/clear gloss, clear nail polish, weird pink gloss I never keep on and is too light by itself.
-Mini hair brush, clip, 3 Tampax

Sustenance, aka kid/husband bribery:
-Mini Butterfinger, bite-sized 3 Musketeers, SweetTarts, violet candy (tastes exactly like it smells!) two sticks Orbit gum, mini Tootsie pop. Some evidence of tiny Tootsie roll.

Miscellany:
-10 sea-green/blue/clear glass beads.
-trio of cute mini-stick pads
-shopping list
-silica gel pack
-One crumpled personalized cocktail napkin,
-Small craft box containing mini wedding album.
-Six normal pens, one gold, one 'nice' pen (suitable for guestbook and contract signing)
-Passport.
-Fully functional "stick" lighter (good for candles, arson, bonfires, lighting heaters)
-$1.47, Level Vodka magnetic billfold, 2 keys, tiny flashlight, Borders/Library/Albertsons card/P.E.T.C.O. card.
-Deep red corkscrew pull, gift of another awesome photographer.

Work:
-Two card organizers, full of cards.
-Lovely engraved silver card holder with my name and business name on it.
-Bunch of my business cards, two of Scotts'.
-Cell phone.
-Gift card from a photographer friend, good for an engagement portrait session.

So here's where the contest starts: What kind of purse should I invest in? Suggestions, pictures, admonitions on my bad handbag choices and dire stories of child laborers making the sort of purse I just bought are all equally welcome. Just remember, I'm looking for the following criteria:

1. Must be large enough to comfortably fit a one-inch binder in it, plus a bunch of other stuff.
2. Must easily sling over my shoulder (no tiny straps)
3. Must be fairly water-wine-weather proof - and hopefully not black (everyone's purse is black, this is a bad thing at weddings). Red perhaps? Subtle patterns ok. Not overly trendy (no weird grommet-y things, etc)
4. Must have pockets, compartments and at least have a strap over the top, if not a zippered top.
5. Try not to break my bank - We need to head down to Mexico for another exciting week of dental work, and I'm hoping to spend a lovely day or two at Disneyland as a sort of mini vacation soon.

Winning suggestion will get a special surprise from me in the mail! Start your engines, ladies and gentlemen.

Countdown

I just realized that I have ten, well, nine, counting this entry...more entries to go until I hit 200. I'd really like to make them meaningful, or at least interesting and witty - so I'm trying to choose some really great topics. Heaven forbid I peak too soon what with the cat and falling-out-of-the-car stories, right?

As it happens, I'm also in the midst of some fairly involved events, ('tis the season, you know) which are conspiring to suck a lot of the creative energy right out of me. Being self-employed is funny that way, I find - I work a lot harder and for longer hours for myself and my clients than I did for any of my former employers. Note to former employers (and ye who read at The Office, especially): I'm not saying that I didn't put my full efforts into all the jobs I ever did, no not at all. What I find is this: When you add passion and intense creative deadlines to a job, the results are always going to be better than just plain old hard work.

I'm also having a few technical issues (Blogger? Firefox? Safari? WTH, man?) of late - I find that I can't see comments in Safari, I can't see my new posts in Firefox, and I have no idea why. To this order, I'm stealing a page out of Molly's (Molly from Les Cadeaux) book and posting questions for you. Fire away in comments, ok?

-What age did you most love/hate, and why?
-Did you have a good time in high school?
-What was your first job?
-What has been (or is) your favorite job?
-Why did you start blogging, and what could (potentially) cause you to quit? (No fair using the word "dooced")
-What should I change about this blog (please keep in mind I'm sooooo not HTML savvy)
-How do you like your marshmellows cooked?

Here are my answers:

-I really loved being 17-19 - I was out of school, working enough to (almost) stay out of trouble, but still had plenty of time for fun, and weighed somewhere in the neighborhood of 115 pounds. I hated ages 12 and 23, for very different reasons - 12 because I was perpetually grounded, in a school system that did NOT work for me, and had a fairly humiliating wardrobe...but seriously, who loooved Jr. High, huh?

-Had a lovely time, for the most part, in high school. I wouldn't say I 'maximized my educational potential', but I got on well with almost everyone, made some great friends, and figured out very early that high school was... just high school, and I should hurry up and do something interesting already.

-First job (that I had to go to more than twice a week): Office help and shop assistant at an opticians' office. I loved my boss and the lady that worked for him, and would have stayed longer but for his overly charitable habits. The man gives away almost everything, is generous to a fault - he doesn't even own a car and he actually lived in the back of the shop. I hope someday some of the many kids he's fostered comes round with a million (or two, or three) dollars and plunks it down in front of him. He'd probably donate it and go right on with what he's doing.

-Favorite job: Mine! Least favorite boss: Me (slave-driving perfectionist)

-I started blogging for two reasons: It seemed like a good idea at the time, and I wanted a way to keep in touch with my family - a laughable reason when you consider many of them can barely turn a computer on. I think I'd quit if I lost a reason to write, or it stopped being fun.

-Can't answer this one, sure you can.

-Love marshmellows dark golden brown, pull off 'skin', cook slimy outer layer, repeat until down to sticky nub. With chocolate and grahams over a bonfire, please.

Oh My Darlin'..

Have you ever been somewhere that put you in a nostalgic mood? This week has been full of those moments - last Friday we ate at the The Palms with some Christie and her family - the guys loooved cooking their own meat, let me tell you. Last night, we ate dinner at Clementine's, - and let me tell you, from the piped-in Andrew Lloyd Weber muzac to the relish plate to the home...made...chocolate chip walnut pie, all served on red and white china, it was a blast from the past. I hadn't been there since I was about ten, so it was a little trip down memory lane for me. They have a full-service menu where you just pick your entree and it comes with all of the following:

-Our own mini-loaf of home-made bread (hot from the oven!)
-Soup (a delicious lentil-rich stew in this case)
-Salad (fresh and green, home-made dressing)
-Baked potato
-Zucchini and cheese
-Piiiiiiiiiiiieeeeeeeeeee. Pie. Home. made. freakin' pie. Irene, the owner, comes in every morning and rolls out the fresh, flakey crusts - she's at least 70 years old, and was still at the cash register when we left after nine. They were out of chocolate cream, but did manage to have apple, cherry, blackberry, blueberry, coconut cream, bananna cream, chocolate walnut, and...get this...mincemeat. Note: According to my studies, mincemeat has apples, oranges, and raisins with lots of alcohol and spices...doesn't sound bad to me at-tall, but I think they might want to change the name. Whoever 'they' are.

This concludes my Trip Down Memory Lane. Part Two (and completely unrelated) is below.
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Ok this is going to a be just a wee, tad bit awkward (much like me trying to manuver my final bite of chocolate-chip walnut pie and ice cream into my mouth), so please bear with me, ok? I'm in a bit of an awkward situation at the moment. You see, I seem to have a bit of a ... this is weird... stalker. Not an online stalker, but no, the good old-fashioned real, flesh n' blood, person of my aquaintence who is making my life uncomfortable at times. My choices are thusly: Call them, have an (awkward/mean/potentially full of denial) conversation. This could make for some bad, bad times. Or, I could make someone else have that conversation, which could be even more awkward, and make me look like a first-class....ass. Or...I could do nothing, which is what I'd like to do, as long as I can sucessfully avoid running into them for a while.

What to do?

Oh, honey

Oh, that's riiiiiight! I started this thing because I had in mind a series of clever little vignettes, set in the backdrop of Santa Barbara, lightly spiced with snark! Well, to be honest, this blog was half-meant to try and draw my family slowly and gently into the world of the twenty-first century - I thought if they had a little note from me on the internet every day or so, they might hurry up and join in on the fun of email and remote communication. Really, what fun is there in life until you can share the joy of clearing your inbox of ten "SpeCiaL on herbal MallleEnhanCEMENT" and "I've cracked the code...93 million dollars in just ninety-eight hours" with your parents?
Clearly this woman needs to get emails from single Russian women and Constipation D. Hooligan. Clearly. To be honest, here is where Mama and Papa Meepers are at right now:
They called me today to see what cell network I'm on, as they are considering purchasing one of those new-fangled contraptions, a cellular phone. I hear they've also considered installing a real-live, runnin'-water. flushin' toilet. Last week, my mom asked me if I 'had any more of those ... entries...somewhere...out...there?"

"Do you mean...on the internet, mom? Online? Yes, they stay up, in perpetutua, until Blogger crashes and burns, or I delete this blog in an attempt to escape from a crazy online stalker."

"You have stalkers? Honey, isn't that dangerous?"

"No mother, I do not have stalkers, I barely have readers. Yes, my stuff is still up there, in a pretty new format for your reading pleasure....if you would only get thee to the libraray, or get a computer who doesn't remember the BC/AD changeover. Next you're going to want me to print out my entries and mail them to you. "

"Could you? Could you do that? That would be greaaaaat! Your dad is still laughing over the wooden keyboard thing- so if you could just print those out and mail them to us....maybe I'll get time someday to sit down and read some of them - right after I get done re-shingling the house." This coming from a woman who has one album of (my) baby pictures and has moved four large boxes of loose, mostly bad, snapshots, at least six times by my count. You can eat off her floor, but will my sisters and I ever sift tenderly through our shared family chronology without wondering aloud who exactly is that...and what is perched on their head, and why are ninety percent of the pictures taken when someone is eating, talking, or making a terrible face?
Not without back strain, says I.

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Speaking of strains: An update on my current (lack of) health: Continuing bad to worse, strep seems to have come full loop back to beginning, no sleep for more than an hour or two at a time in over a week, so I'm exhausted and have the crack-jitters all at once. Thank goodness for modern miracles like fans and cold showers to help with the fevers I can't shake. Scott mentioned that he'd be getting me a spitoon this morning, but I've yet to see it. Diet in the last few days: Liquid (water, hot water, sprite, water, chicken broth) with a few bites of tofu ice cream (blech!). Prognosis: Bleak. Please send Mexican painkillers or medically induced coma soon. In lieu of lots of flowers, dessert and drinks, no tears at funeral - fun stories about crazy times we've had together only. Go ahead and start now - how did we meet? What did you think? What happened?

An Item between friends

You guys? I have the Coolest Friends. Seriously - for one, good old Pete from SightSpeed
called me this morning, bearing Ye Olde Glade Tidings: I've been upgraded to a full minute of videoblogging at a time. Which means that I'm going to need to figure out something to chat about for sixty seconds. I'm going to need a little help, since someone already covered circumcision to lesson the chances of contracting the A.I.D.S., his back surgery, the dearth of visitors to America's national parks, incredibly obese people, and poop.

What possible topics could be left? Here are some things I've ruled out, thus far:

-No, the world does not really need yet another cat video. My sister, the Crazy Cat Lady, and YouTube have got the animal-mania territory completely covered. Let's not discuss the fact that one of the frogs pulled a "Steve McQueen in Papillon" move and was seen making frantic five-inch leaps across our living room floor two days ago. Considering said frogs are a scant five inches long and the predatory felines that live here, it is a miracle that the little guy made it ten feet without becoming a Kitty Snack. I've named him Houdini. However, they tend to hop around a lot, and are a bit small for video purposes.

-I'd volunteer to show off Scotts' adorable new summer haircut, *Schmoopie Alert, please avert your eyes* He's just had it cut very, very short...now if only he'd grow a goatee - I do so love how his ruddy lips are framed by his goatee, but these days it's a bit more cinnamon-sugar than he'd like to admit. *Schmoopie stuff over -but he really doesn't fancy the idea of getting on the Internet in order to humour me.

Back to "I have the coolest friends", though - and really, who doesn't think their friends are The Best? They are so lovely in different ways, all of them - I know I talk about Chiada, her funny husband, and their two dogs, and of course Christie, Bella, Chad and company. There are so many other friends that I don't talk about here - people from near and far that I really value.

The Monterey Peninsula/Northern California crew are too numerous and far to generous to even try to list - in the last six years they've really embraced me, not just as "Scotts' wife", but a seperate entity that they value and respect. As one of them said, "NorCal love, man, NorCal love..".

Up in Oregon, I've got my 'fourth sister', Nat - even though we've always been radically different, we love each other fiercely. Time, distance and circumstances (we haven't lived in the same town in twelve years, she's got two little girls, and it's a twelve hour drive to get from here to there) could have conspired to pull us apart, but we've refused to allow that to happen. We may not be in the closest touch as far a writing, calling and emailing each other, but she's never far from my thoughts.

Only this morning I awoke clad in a bright orange T-shirt that is emblazoned with the words "I'm a Lake to Lake Big Cheese". It was a present from an older friend when I spent the night at her house - I couldn't have been more than five years old. I remembered how it used to hit me just below the knee, how I swam in its' immense folds, how intensely bright it was. I adored my friend Cyndi, who dressed me up in bits of narrow velvet and lace strung with antique beads for chokers, drove me around, took me to late night movies, gave me a Hello Kitty diary I still have. She got married young, has three kids and a consignment shop, lives in the 'apartment' below her large family home that my dad helped build; I see her occasionally.

The Cheese Shirt, as it was dubbed (by another friend of mine, Liz) has endured through moves and closet-clearings, growing softer and thinner every year. On the rare occasion I wear it to bed, I think of all the girls who wore it at sleepovers, how we used to fold our arms and legs inside it and huddle in front of the TV with bowls of cereal on cool summer mornings. It reminds me of how old friendships can last and grow, given the proper support and nourishment.

So - what objects or items do you have that make you think of something or someone, a quality, or a story? Share.

Quickie... Now With Updates

Check This Out

Again a big thanks to Pete over at SightSpeed for setting my new video blog-capable SightSpeed Account up for me - I am without doubt the least tech-savvy Mac addict in the world. I'll be posting a video as soon as someone... (cough) stops hovering over my shoulder like a fart in a trance.

Poll Number One: What color(s) do you think I should do my hair on Monday?

Poll Number Two: What could/should I do with thirty seconds of video? Please - G or PG rated suggestions, ok? I have family that reads this blog.

See you later!