Mommy Mondays

Hello friends. No, this isn't my (not so) subtle way of making an announcement of a pending baby due - gasp! Or, the announcement of my adoption of a new, furry puppy.  It's the announcement of a guest blog starring my dear friend, Laura.  LJ for those of you know her from other times in our respective lives.  Laura has two adorable darlings who are known to do some pretty funny stuff.  She shares this with me via phone and email and I always laugh and laugh.  And I thought you needed to hear some of it too.  This may happen again.  Or, maybe not.  Just depends on how often her kids do silly, funny, blog-worthy stuff.  And, how often it's Monday.  And, how often I can get my act together to post her fine, clever prose on a Monday.  So, welcome to Mommy Mondays!!  And, welcome Laura.  Okay, your mic is on...

My son, Grayson, is three-and-a-half. He attends preschool one block from our house, and we walk there three mornings a week. We love his school and plan to send his one-year-old sister, Harper, there when she's ready, too. It happens to be a Jewish preschool. Our family isn't Jewish, so we think it's pretty cool that Grayson teaches us things about the Jewish religion/culture ("Hamen is a bad guy!"), new vocabulary words ("Mom, did you eat matzo/hamantashen/challah when you were a girl?") and brings home fun projects (like a "Plague Bag"--including, among other things, a locust, lice, blood, and a dead cow--all faux, of course) on a weekly basis.

Anyway, a couple of weeks ago, Grayson requested ham in his lunchbox. I told him that ham isn't allowed at his school and that I'd send turkey instead. He proceeded to ask me at least a hundred questions about why he couldn't have ham at school, and I did my best to explain. I said that some Jewish people don't believe in eating pork, and that he should ask his teachers if he wanted to know more. OK, maybe that wasn't the greatest explanation, but I really just wanted him to stop asking questions about ham!

Out of the blue at school that Wednesday, he declared to his teacher, "I'm not Jewish, because I like ham!" Fabulous (insert my red face here). We had lunch at home the following day, and (surprise!) we had ham. At some point, Harper started throwing hers on the floor. Grayson, momentarily glancing up from his iPad screen (mom of the year), wanted to know what she was doing. I told him she was throwing her ham on the floor, and he asked, "Does Harper not like ham?" I said that sometimes babies just throw things. He watched her for awhile, then shrugged and said... "Maybe she's Jewish."

From now on, I'll leave the teachings of Judaism to the experts.

Happy Passover to Harper and all my Jewish friends! 

Reply To All

The Reply To All option has a purpose.  And, in most instances it is helpful.  When you are having a conversation amongst a group of people.  Maybe it's about a business decision.  Or, maybe it's about where to go to lunch. Maybe it's about an upcoming trip and what the group wants to do while you are out of town.  Maybe it's coordinating the weekend's plans. In these instances Reply To All is the key to success at group organization!

The Reply To All button is also sometimes misused.  Occasionally I receive an email response (so does the entire office) telling me something that was really only intended for the person who sent the email.  Often, it's just annoying.  Nothing I need to worry about so I roll my eyes, shake my head while muttering 'Reply To All' and delete the email.

The worst is when someone sends out a mass email and someone replies to all with something completely inappropriate for the audience.

Case in point.

Several (many,many) years ago a co-worker sent out an announcement that they were having a baby!!  This exciting email was sent to everyone on our team, our boss, our boss's boss, our President, the receptionist.  Plus all of his family and friends. You name it they got it.  In actuality, they were adopting a dog!   I sent him a 'reply' note of congrats along with several reasons on why I love dogs.  No surprise that I went on and on about how much I cherish my pooch, Sam.

Twenty minutes later a 'reply to all' came through.  His friend wished him well and then went on to explain that often the manner in which the baby was conceived plays a huge impact on the personality of the baby.  He then proceeded to highlight that in this case it must have been...

Doggy Style.

Holy Crap!  I still can't handle it when I think about it today.  I could not believe that his friend literally just sent this to our entire office.  For me it was one of those loud, eyes-watering, stomach-hurting laughs at my desk.  For my co-worker, it was probably one of those moments when you hang your head in embarrassment, look back and wish you had sent it to your intended distro list under a BCC so Reply To All was never ever ever an option. 

I wonder how the baby dog is doing now?  And, I wonder if my former co-worker ever made that mistake again? 

Honoring Helen

When someone passes you try to find ways to honor them.  Whether in song or quotation, you look for things that have a deeper meaning to show your love, hopes, wishes and dreams for them in their afterlife and for the family and their friends in their "After" life.

Tomorrow marks the two year anniversary of the passing of our dear family friend after her battle with Pancreatic Cancer. The world lost a wonderful mother, daughter, wife, sister, role model and friend. I think of her often and am thankful that she is at peace.

What troubles me still is the loss for her daughters, my 'sisters', twins I grew up babysitting, playing with and watching develop into two of the funniest, kindest, most beautiful women.  And, I am tickled when they laugh and I hear their mother's laughter ring through the air.

I am bothered for her sons who need their mother in ways they can't even imagine but I am happy to see how they've grown into incredible men who treat the women in their lives in a way that would make her proud and feel honored.

I hope for her husband as he continues to find his way in navigating the world without her by his side and I smile because I know she watches over him and that he is surrounded with her love everyday through their children.

I am sad for her mother for losing her daughter far too soon.   But, I find peace knowing that she is smiling down onto her mother and caring for her from above.

I wonder about her friends and how lonely they feel when they want to share a story with her but I am grateful that they have found ways to cherish her memory in the places she loved most and feel her spirit when there together.

And, while thinking of these things brings tears to my eyes, I know that the most important thing is that in our "After" life we honor her by always living our best life.  Living a life in the amazing way that she lived hers.  A life filled with happiness, laughter and appreciation for the good around us. A life where you cherish accomplishments, support others wholeheartedly and always are willing to lend a hand and an ear. A life blooming with sunshine, celebration and love.

Today, tomorrow, and for every day after, I will honor Helen by trying to live my best life.  I ask that you do too.

HSB

1/4/53 - 12/13/10

those 3 little words..

I was head over heels.  I had found him.  The guy that made my heart race.  My mind fuzzy.  My stomach do flip flops.

We had been dating for a while.  Plans were made for The Holidays.  We spent a perfect amount of time together.  Not too much.  Not too little.

I laughed more, smiled more, skipped more.  Because. Of. Him.

It was my first 'love'.  I knew it.  We were going to be together.  Forever.  I had found my King.  I was certain.  I couldn't wait to hear it out of his mouth.  I love you.  I just wanted him to say it first so I could say it back.

We were out with friends.  He liked to drink.  A lot.  Later I realized too much. 

He got that look in his eye.  Or, that one eye.  The one that got smaller and squintier.  The look that I knew meant the proverbial 'other shoe' may drop.  He was slurring his words when he was telling me how much he liked me.  He was so happy I was in his life.  He couldn't imagine being with anyone but me.  The moment he saw me it was like a circle of light was surrounding me. He was drawn to me in that very first moment and could never let me go.

I knew it was coming.  He was going to say those 3 little words I had been waiting to hear for  SOOO   LOOONG.  To profess his unwavering love for me.   It was on the tip of his tongue.  I stopped breathing waiting for him to whisper it in my ear.

"I slub you"  he says.

He was trashed. 

And, he slubbed me. 

I felt like the unluckiest girl in the world.  My boyfriend slubbed me.  I wanted him to take it back.  I wanted to cry.  Who wants to hear for the first time that their boyfriend 'slubs' them?  Where was I love you? 

Gone.  Gone about 8 gins ago.  That's where it was.  He slubbed gin too. 

Just Plane Inappropriate

I travel often.  I am not a 'road warrior' but I do have status which allows me great perks like access to exit row seats. 

I am also tall, for a lady.  And, taller than many men.  Which drains my dating pool.  Significantly.  This is another post.  But, just a second.  Seriously, it stinks.  I am doing the online dating thing and I rule out thousands of men due to height alone.  Some are hot!  Reminds me of a guy from college my friends and I used to call 'would be hot if tall'.  I don't think we ever called him this to his face.  Well, maybe once, after spending too many hours enjoying Penny Pitchers.   

Anyway, I digress.  Back to the original story... I am also tall, for a lady.  So, I really appreciate when I secure the exit row aisle seat.  I'll take an exit window or an exit center if necessary.  But the aisle is hitting the airplane seat assignment jackpot!!

On my recent trip to the islands I secured the exit row.  But, it was the window seat.  Okay, not ideal, but definitely better than a standard row where my knees are always at risk for being knocked around when someone in front of me decides to recline to rest.  Then I have to uncross my legs because I am never prepared and I always knock them back.  They think I am a bitch.  And, in the spirit of honesty since it is Sunday, sometimes I knock a little harder if I am annoyed that they flopped back during the recline and jarred my computer.

Moving on. 

So, my seatmates were a young couple in love.  They were lost in eachother's eyes.  Holding hands.  Maybe it was a honeymoon trip.  It was kind of sweet and kind of annoying.

We take off and the girl decides its time to get comfortable.     So, she takes off her shoes.  Really?  I think this is totally inappropriate on the plane.  Now, it could be worse, she could be clipping her fingernails or eating chicken off the bone straight out of a ziploc baggie.  I've seen both.  But, shoe removal on the plane is bad and one of my pet peeves.




What if I was terrified of feet?  Or, what if her feet smelled?  You don't always realize it.  And, she was wearing inexpensive pleather ballet flats which is a prime way to achieve foot smell.  Not knocking them.  Have several pair.  Also carry baby powder when I wear mine to avoid the foot sweats.




Anyway, her feet are pointed in my direction for a bit.  Then she starts to shift.  And, then she gets really comfortable.  Like, laying-around-the-house-watching-tv comfortable.  She just up and throws her un-shoed feet and legs over her main squeeze's lap.  Awesome, I've just crashed date night. 

Seriously?  Is this your living room?  Are we on your couch?  In your gingerbread house?  I would bet that she doesn't do that at a dinner party when she is kindly waiting for dessert to be served.  Or, in a hotel lobby.  Or, in the Dr's office waiting room. Or, at her in-laws house before she really got to know them. So, why on earth 17E is it okay to do it on the plane?


Take your legs off your husband, shoeless wonder.  Put your darling ballet flats back on.  Stop cuddling so that in the event of an emergency you will be willing and ABLE to assist the flight crew.  Bare feet are just plane plain inappropriate!

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
licensed for reuse under this
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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.

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

Ruby Red Lipstick: Anniversary Edition

I am single.  I have been for a year now.  To the day. 

Yes, I dumped my ex on Halloween of last year.  He applied for a car loan in my name.  For a Range Rover.  When he was unemployed.  Really?

He did a handful of other things that really crossed the line and my forgiveness had just run out.  So, I came home mid-day and told him it was over.  I didn't cry.  I just felt an incredible sense of Peace.  Even when he called me every nasty word you can think of to refer to a woman or her body. Or, when in the middle of The BreakUp he changed his relationship status on Facebook to 'single'.  Who does that?  Peaceful the whole time. Seriously.

That peaceful easy feeling lasted for about 14 hrs.  Then, I woke up and I felt terrible.  And, I felt great.  And, I felt sad.  And, I felt happy. And, I felt relief. And, I felt lost.  And, I felt found.

For a while it was a mix of these emotions but eventually I got over the ex and the relationship.  My friends were amazingly supportive through it all!  The best friends a girl could ask for.  Xanax also helped. So did wine.  Sometimes too much.  But never too much of both at the same time. I even called the Walgreen's pharmacist a few times to be sure my time between the sedatives and the wine was enough. They think I am completely nuts. Safety first.

I think the 'tipping point' in my 'moving on' was when me and my Ruby Red Lips found him at a pizza place.  No, I didn't smooch him. YUCK! I seriously just gagged a little.  I did however try to play nice.  Until he asked me to do him a favor. 

 Him: Liz, could you do me a favor?
 Me: Sure, what's that?  (me trying to play nice)
 Him:  Lay off the red lipstick?

Seriously?  Who says that?  Lay off the red lipstick?  Really?

Whatever.  Like he had any right to comment on my appearance or my make-up selection. Who did he think he was?

I love me some red lipstick.  Here is one of my favorite pics of me rockin' red lips. I get that the picture is a bit crazy. Cray-Zee is totally why I love it.

Whenever I put on the red lipstick I am empowered, strong, beautiful and confident.  Actually I feel that way in pink lip gloss or when I wear chapstick too.  But, when I pop the cap off of the red I remember that moment and how good it felt to tell him

Me: Actually...I like it...so I'll probably keep wearing it. *smug smile*

Today, I am wearing red lipstick.  And, I feel Great.  Happy and Healthy. Peaceful and Pretty.  Sassy and Sophisticated.  And, I don't have a Range Rover in my driveway.  And, even better, he doesn't have one in his.

Happy Hallowine!!

I can't believe Halloween is right around the corner...I've always loved Halloween and loved getting dressed up! 

A couple of years ago my friends decided to go as Angels & Devils.  Nothing like seeing tinted Escalade doors open and several scantily clad devils and angels hop out.

The plan outlined that each of us dress as our opposite.  Nice girls should be devils and the 'other' girls would be angels.  Some of us are just not as nice as the rest.  So, two of us were angels. My angel partner in crime shall remain nameless.  We had fun as our alter egos.  We were nice and happy and sweet.  All night. 



This year I am going to pass on the dressing up.  One, I can't fit into any of my costumes.  Two, this year's sleazy costumes are not my thing. And, three,  I have no bar-hopping, crazy clubbing plans.  Gone are the days of finding my way to the VIP room dressed as a 'Naughty Catholic School Girl' to pop bottles with one of the 'bones from Bone Thugs-N-Harmony and Mystikal.  Gone is the desire to 'shake' my assets in a 'Captain Booty' pirate costume. Gone is the wish to dance with the 'Devils' at a haunted house.

This year, I'd rather be an observer.  Watch the kids run through the neighborhood in their costumes. Hand out candy after laughing at terrible trick or treat jokes. Smile at the parents who have to sort through all of that candy and hide half of it so Johnny doesn't vomit on his costume or his sister.    

I'll do that and drink wine.  Maybe in wings and my halo.

Have a Safe and Happy Halloween!

A first time for everything..

In life there are many 'firsts' - a first birthday, first day of school, first kiss, first hangover, first 'real' job, first health scare, first house, first love, first loss.  Today is my FIRST blog.  Ever. And, just like every other first, it is intimidating, exciting, a bit uncomfortable and after it happens I'll probably think of a million things I should have, could have, would have done differently.

I have been inspired to blog by two wonderful (and crazy) women I met one night over dinner with friends at my favorite Mexican restaurant, 'The Ranch'.  Keep this in mind. 'The Ranch' will come up again. Likely on a Thursday. It's a tradition. Maybe that's why my jeans are tight. Anyway, both women are bloggers and have quite a following.  I shared a few of my stories over fajitas and enchiladas and talked about how I am a little narcissistic and they said sign up, join the fun. 

I looked at blog options that night stuffed from my Mexican fiesta. But just couldn't take the leap into the land of blog. Perhaps it was a Mexican coma.  Or, just a lack of adventure.  But I did not take that first step.

A few months later one of the women was in town again, visiting her daughter, one of my good friends.  We talked more about it over dinner.  We like to eat.  Although this time it was Italian. Yum. And again she was talking to me about blogging.  What really had me hooked is that she was headed to our fancy mall the next day to buy herself a new Louis Vuitton with her blog money.  Now, that's what I am talking about. Granted, I am nowhere near Louis status in the blog world.  I am starting out..it's like buying your first designer handbag at Coach.  Very exciting, but not Louis exciting. Maybe my blog will get there one day.  Today, I am just going to enjoy my first post and maybe I'll find that Coach handbag and appreciate it for what it was..my first.