Counting My Blessings

I took a little blogging break as I was resting, relaxing, shopping, sunning and watching some hoops in the Virgin Islands over Thanksgiving.  The Littlest was playing in an islands tournament and so our family hopped a few planes to celebrate one of my most favorite holidays beachside.

 

Over the last month I've seen Facebook friends posting daily about all of things that have made their Thankful lists. I didn't partake in this trend but decided that on the last day of the month I'd jot down all of things I am blessed by and with.  Efficiency.  30 days of something I'm thankful for in one list, one post.  Done.  Read on.  And, this is not in order of least to most thankful or vice versa so don't be insulted if you aren't number 1.

          

My Blessings

1) Laughter (side-splitting, eyes watering, out loud laughter)

2) Kindness (in heart and mind)

3) La Famiglia (both sides and the 'family' that is not even biologically tied)

4) Sunshine

5) My pooch, Sam (although sometimes I want to send him off with the Gypsy's)

6) Girlfriends (enough said)

7) Baubles (bracelets, diamonds, cheap costume plastic stuff, heirlooms)

8) Ice Cream (Ben & Jerry's Phish Food in particular)

9) Bond No. 5 Nuit de Noho

10) Beaches (sand, turquoise water, sunshine, palm trees, Bette Midler)

11) Crushes (and the butterflies that come with them)

12) My trusty Volvo

13) Xanax (the calm that overcomes the storm)

14) Seashells (junonia's, jewels of the sea, catpaws, conchs, tulips)

15) Open Windows

16) Chardonnay (Rombauer is at the top of the list)

17) Gossip Magazines (and the trash they talk)

18) Grandparent memories (old spice, tab, velcro rollers, pontoon boats)

19) Church Hopping

20) Mani-Pedi's (and the Vietnamese women who are really good at doing them)

21) Wi-Fi and data plans

22) Sunroof - Moonroof (toe-may-toe, toe-mah-toe)

23) Post-It's (thank you Romy & Michelle or maybe 3M)

24) Good reads (bound or nook)

25) Hand Lotion (Kiehls, l'occitane, love+toast, Archipelago)

26) Mentors (you know who you are)

27) Frequent flyer miles and hotel status (Thank you AA and Marriott)

28) Coca Cola (diet, zero, caffeine free and just plain ol' Coca Cola in the red can)

29) Old Sweatshirts (one GAP gray one that I love to wear inside out)

30) Gluten free cookies (who am I kidding, gluten free everything)
 

 

My Dating misAdventures Entry #1

I've gone on a few dates in my day.  Some wonderful. Some not so wonderful.  All good stories.

My friends get a good laugh at my dating adventures.  They ask when I have good ones.  Awkward ones.  Funny ones.  Short ones.  Tall ones.  Sad ones.  Bad ones.  I sound like Seuss. 




CC Trevor Hurlbut Aug. 28, 2010

Anyway, considering I am a single 35 year old, I've had a decent dating experience.  Many crushes.  Many good-byes.  A few boyfriends.  A couple of loves.  And, an occasional mistake (or two).

I've decided that you, too, may enjoy some of my dating misadventures. 


My first 'real' date.  He asked me out. A few days in advance.   That's apparently all it takes.

He was in college.  I was in high school.  I guess I've always had a thing for older men.

He was going to take me to House Decs.  We would walk around Greek Town and admire all of the decorations and skits each of the sororities and frats had conjured up in the grand spirit of Homecoming.  I was sure we would hold hands.

He picked me up.  There was no plan other than house decs.  Of course.   He was a freshman in college.   He drove through Taco Bell because he was hungry.  I didn't order anything.  I don't know that he asked if I wanted anything.  Not even a burrito.  I didn't want to hold his hand anymore.

House Decs?  Good.   The 'date'?  Really lame.  

There you have it.  My first real date.  I was completely disappointed. I called my girlfriends and complained.  At least that part of the 'date' went well..  Rehashed the whole thing with my girlfriends.  They told me he wasn't good enough.  I deserved better.  Exactly what girlfriends are supposed to do after a bad date.  The pattern was established.

Now, you'd think that any guy who took me on a date since then would score an A because the first one set the bar SO low.

Wrong.  I have high standards.  He was just the tip of the dating iceberg. 

Now, don't get me wrong there are some good ones. And, my girlfriends hear about those too. And, encourage me and tell me how excited they are and how great he sounds and when are you going out again??  We oooh and awww over those. 

But, there are many really bad ones.  And, honestly, those are the funniest.  And, make for the best stories.  And, the most laughter.  So that's what you will find the most of on this blog.  There may be a sweet one in there occasionally. And, just like in dating, it's the occasional sweet one that keeps you coming back for more.

My (sometimes) High Maintenance Life

I am sometimes High Maintenance.  I am a girl.  I think most of us can be this way.  Occasionally.  Or, often.  Whatever.

I try to keep my high maintenanceness under control.  I am good at this. Sometimes.  Not as often as I'd like.

Like the other day.

I went to breakfast with some girlfriends last Sunday.  It was an eggs and bacon and biscuits&gravy and pancakes kind of place.  No eggs benedict. No frittatas.

We had a party of five.  The restaurant was not that busy.  There was no wait.  They seated us at the most awkward table.  It was situated between 2 benches.  One side of the bench could accommodate 2 people. The other side, 3.  But, the weird thing was that the table was incredibly long.  Like 10 feet long.  So, the 5th person would not be facing anyone.  It was like they would be eating at their own table with no one to talk with or look at.

I didn't want to sit at this weird, non-inclusive table.  I didn't want anyone to sit by themselves at the odd end.  I didn't want anyone to have to sit across from no one.  Weird.  Awkward. I hated it.



© Copyright
Ben Harris
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So, I asked the host if we could sit at the other booth.  It was perfectly situated to allow us to sit near each other.  Everyone would be happier here.  I was certain of it.

Host:  "No, that's reserved".

Me:  "Really?"  "This exact table is reserved"?  "Well, is there somewhere else we can sit?" *snotty tone kicking in*

Host:  "No, you'd have to wait".

Waiting doesn't work for me.  Particularly when I am feeling high maintenance.  I was hungry. 


And, high maintenance.  We took the weird table.

10 minutes later a party of 2 was escorted to the table by the host.

Host: "It's so nice to see you again, Mary".

Mary wore a huge floppy hat and sunglasses.  Mary's perfectly manicured hand flaunted a diamond which was nearly 5 carats.  Mary was with her sweet adult son who likely just brought her from church. The waitress knew what Mary wanted. Mary was a regular.  Mary and son were served before our shared waitress took our order.  Mary's drink was always full.   I have a feeling Mary has a high maintenance side.

My motto from here on out:  Eat, Drink and (one day) Be Mary.

 

Naked People

There are many different types of people in the world.  Skinny, Tall,  Brown-Haired, Muscular, Chunky, Blue-Eyed, Petite..I could go on. 

There are also two very distinctive people - Naked People and Not Naked People.

The Naked Cowboy likely only wears underwear to avoid the NYC slammer.  He has made good money off of his nakedness.  Clearly he is a Naked Person.  Probably everyday.  Probably all of the time.

I am a Not Naked Person. I don't walk around the house naked. I don't dry my hair naked. Nothing. I did not grow up in a Naked House. We wore clothes. Always. I don't have anything against Naked People. I am just not one of them. So, their nakedness is sometimes surprising.

I dated a Naked Person once.  I found him sitting naked on the couch and felt so bad for every other person who would ever sit on that couch again. Yuck! This happened a few times and every time I was like 'put some freaking shorts on'...Sheesh. 

I also had a Naked Person as a roommate.  One night our home phone started screaming at 2am.  We were in our 20's.  This was not abnormal.  We both came running out of our rooms. I, clothed head to toe, in yoga pants, a long sleeve shirt and a sweatshirt.  It was winter.  She, on the other hand, was naked.  Totally naked. Not even jewelry naked. We stared at the phone, looked at each other, laughed and went back to our respective Not Naked and Naked Rooms.

You are either a Naked Person or a Not Naked Person.  There is no in-between.  The Naked Ex sometimes also cooked naked.  Breakfast.  Really.  Nothing like a full moon when you walk into the kitchen on a Sunday morning.

Who do you think you are, Kim Kardashian?

Since I was writing about ending my last relationship the other day I started thinking about The BreakUp.

One of my favorite comments he threw at me:  "Who do you think you are, Kim Kardashian"?

Really?  Kim Kardashian?  Did he really say that? We don't look alike.  At all. Except that I have a generously sized derriere. That we have in common.

I am laughing just thinking about it. "Who do you think you are, Kim Kardashian"? Howling, in fact. Tears in eyes laughing. That is absurd.

I think I had actually forgotten about this gem of a moment until Halloween when I wrote about The BreakUp in the exceptionally funny post Ruby Red Lipstick: Anniversary Edition. Yes, I sometimes think I am funny.  I laugh at my own blogs.  Narcissistic, I know.

I love Kim K.  She makes me laugh.  She is glamorous and ridiculous and keeping up with her makes for great DVR.  Her family is amazing!  I laugh out loud at their antics and dysFUNction!  As much as I enjoy their shows and the entire Kardashian - Jenner family, I have no idea why on earth he thought that I thought that I was Kim Kardashian.


CC BY Holywood Branded, Inc.

And, know that when I say dysFUNction it is with complete love and adoration.  My father always said that our family puts the FUN in dysfunctional.  Total term of endearment. My love to the Kardashian-Jenners.  They add the FUN too.

Anyway, around that same time last year, Kim decided to end her relationship with Kris Humphries (Hump to you Kardash fans). In fact, I do believe her divorce filing was on October 31st of Twenty-Eleven.  The same day of The BreakUp.  Google confirmed. 

Apparently my ex was keenly aware of this and felt that me ending my bad relationship on Halloween was akin to Kim ending hers.  I didn't understand the comparison then and I don't understand it now.

Regardless, here's to you Kim Kardashian!  It seems that you are much happier one year later.  Me too!

30 Happy Things as listed by Wildfox

I found this shirt when I was out shopping during the Girls Weekend I keep mentioning.   I ♥ it.

I would never wear it though. I am not a t-shirt with words kind of person. Nor, logo shirts. Not my thing.

But, I think this one is sooo cute!  On the hanger.   Or to sleep in.  I love it.

But I don't need $88 sleeping shirts. 

Available at Wildfox Couture online if you do.



photo by Liz ~ t-shirt by Wildfox Couture

30  HAPPY  THINGS
Night Drives
Seven Minutes In Heaven
Sketching On flights
Picking Blackberries
White Sheets
Sunrise
Little Animals
Baggy Shirts
Laughing Until It Hurts
Dad
Dressing Up
Cold Nights, Open Windows
Free Samples
Cat Paintings
Wine Drunk
90's Barbies
Borrowing Clothes
Sleeping On Trampolines
Waking Up With All Your Friends
Driving To Loud Music
Hepburn Marathons
Train Rides
Sleeping Bags
Ice Cold Water In The Summer
Falling Asleep At His House
New York Streets
Los Angeles Hills
Fancy Dresses
Watercolors
Kissing For Hours

God Bless Americans

I don't know anyone who likes to wait in line for anything.

But, we all do it on election day.  And, most of us do it patiently.  Even those of us who are not patient.  Me.  My whole life. 

Today is a day we get to exercise our right to choose, to say what's important to us and to cast our vote for those individuals who will best represent our interests.

There was a time I didn't vote.  I didn't take the time to learn about the candidates and didn't feel educated enough to make a choice.

This year I voted on select things.  I skipped over the things where I felt I didn't know enough.  Perhaps you'll think this is silly on my part and a shame that I didn't do my homework.  That's okay.  It's America and the beautiful thing is that you can think what you want, believe what you want and I can do the same.  And, our thoughts may be different and that is what makes our country great!

Take a moment today and Vote. 

Even if it's just for one thing - the President, an amendment, a judge.  Whatever.  There are millions of people who have fought for our freedoms to have this right.  As a woman there was a time when people like me could not vote.  Someone stood up, said let's make a difference and as a result I have this opportunity today.   Vote and show respect to all of those people who have fought for all Americans to have this right and to those Americans who continue to fight to ensure our liberties and freedoms.

God Bless America.  And, God Bless Americans.

Vote.

Girlfriends Bible

I committed a Cardinal Sin as listed in the Girlfriends Bible.

During a recent Girls Weekend I invited a guy to come and meet us out. He asked what we were doing. So I told him. And then added in a "Come meet us"!

I never. In a million years. Thought he would do it. Seriously. I totally thought I would call his bluff. He is not my boyfriend. We are not dating. We occasionally talk. And, occasionally text. Occasionally we get together for wine and witty conversation. And, I occasionally have a bit of a crush.

Anyway, he strolled right into the bar and pulled up a chair and spent an hour chatting with us. Bought our drinks. Made us laugh. Smelled good too.

Sorry girls, I know that this is a M A J O R no-no. Inviting a guy to any part of a girls weekend is sacrilegious. It might even be one of the biggest Girlfriend no-no's. Of. All. Time.

This was sacred girls time. Time to talk about girl things. Time to laugh at our pasts and our presents. Time to tell embarrassing stories. Time for emotionally bonding girl behavior. Time to do stuff you can't or don't want to do when male friends, boyfriends, husbands, daters, sons, lovers, whatever are around because it takes away from the girlieness.

Fortunately, I have the coolest, most understanding girlfriends. In. The. World.

To my ladies:
Thank you for letting me flirt during our girls weekend.
Thank you for not judging, condemning or banishing me from the festivities.
Thank you for not laughing out loud when I was batting my fake eyelashes at his cute face.

I shall repent with 3 Hail Mary's. And, one Our Father for good measure.   Amen.





CC Jess Pac

one of those days

I am cranky.

I was supposed to have dinner with a friend and I graciously turned down the invitation when I realized it was going to be just one of those days.

My afternoon hasn't helped. In fact it's made it worse.

I opened the front door and was overwhelmed with a smell.  A smell that you know immediately.  It's the smell of dog poop.

Sam was in his kennel.  I had been running around this morning.  I checked the spot that he occasionally mistakes for the backyard. Thinking perhaps he snuck in a potty break before I left.  No poop.

I walked into the room where his kennel sits.  Poop.  Everywhere around the kennel.  Little black poops.  Poop smeared on the bed in the kennel.  Poop probably on Sam.  And, there he is.  In the corner waiting to be let out of the kennel so he can get away from the poop he put there.

I clean the poop up.  Touch some poop with my hand.  Wash my hands.  5 times.

I go to put some things away and knock a plate off of the counter.  The plate shatters.  I cuss.

I get the broom and dustpan and start sweeping up shards of plate.  There are plate pieces in the kitchen.  Under the shelves.  In Sam's water bowl.  There is plate in the dining room.  Under the table and a few of the chairs.  Plate made its way to where the poop was.

Then I can't find the dustpan.  Anywhere.  I look on every surface.  I look in the hall where the broom lives.  3 times.  I look on each chair. I look on the table, the counter, in the freezer.  At this point who knows.  I walk in circles looking for that darn dustpan.  Where the heck is it?

Tony, Tony turn around.  Something's lost and must be found.

Ghetto Phone

Last weekend, I was texting while walking and had an incident with the sidewalk grate.  You know the grates I am talking about..the city planner trys to make the sidewalk pretty so they add trees and grates to hold the trees.  But, this makes it harder for people to walk.   And, when you are walking you have to duck to dodge tree branches every 6 feet to avoid getting smacked in your pretty face.  I love urban beautification but sometimes it's annoying.  Like last Saturday night. 

Anyway, so I am texting, dodging branches, my Stuart Weitzman heel slips into the grate and I drop my phone on the ground.  And, when I picked it up, the screen had shattered.  Major shattered.  Ugh!

This was bound to happen sooner or later.  I drop my phone all of the time.  Like daily.  When I get out of the car. When texting. When answering calls.  When trying to put it back in my bag. When taking it out of my bag.  Butterfingers.

I used to have that problem in basketball with the ball.  Maybe that's why I quit playing after junior high.  Oh well, I liked cheerleading and drinking wine coolers better.  Sorry mom.

So, the phone face is way shattered.  But it still works.  I can text, talk, facebook, tweet, check email, obsess over pinterest, blog.
All good.

So, the $100 question was do I pay to have the screen repaired or hold out for my January upgrade?  Rumor has it that you can put a screen protector on the phone and still use it without the risk of finding splintered glass in your finger. Your phone just looks ghetto.  Do I care if I have a ghetto phone?  I don't know?  It works.  But, I am a bit superficial. Shocking, I know.

So brilliance descended upon me.  I'll call Verizon and beg and plead for an early upgrade.  I was ready with the story about how my ex and I had a Family Plan.  It was in his name but we broke up so I had to assume liability and I've really had this phone for 2.5 years so I should have been due for the upgrade months ago... Blah, blah, blah.  I shared my sob story hoping it would work. 

And, I won!!!

Verizon agreed to send me a new iPhone 5 now!  I don't have to wait until January!! I get this brand new piece of glory shortly!!    I am so impatient so this is great! 

What? I have to wait until they are back in stock November 16th. No!  I have to pay a $30 upgrade charge? Seriously?  I have to change my plan?  Really Verizon?  And, I have to use the ghetto phone for two more weeks.  Ugh!  I am so impatient so this is going to really stink.  Wwwwaaaahhhh

I'll just count down the days until November 16th.  Only 15 to go.  Probably 17 until I get the new phone. 

Keep Calm & Text On