Count This as Bloggin in '07, Be Back in '08

This just in:

"We think Hello Kitty is accepted by young men as a design statement in fashion," he said.

...so said the chap as he rode off in the sunset on a pink vintage Strawberry Sizzler bike.

Vroom vroom.

Oh. And this:

"Young men these days grew up with character goods," said Tohmatsu. "That generation feels no embarrassment about wearing Hello Kitty."

Heh.

And my t-shirt says: I blog the mundane details of my life

July flew by without a document. So this bulleted where-ya-been post will have to do to fill in a July entry. It pains me to do this.

I started a post called N.O. I DO Get to Go, which means I did get to go. To New Orleans. It was going to be in answer to this post but I'm not feeling very sappy. The punchline was going to be something along the lines of New Orleans being more depressed than I could ever imagine to be. I know! Who needs another Original Me self-indulgent weep fest? Because the trip, the city, was not at all what I imagined it to be. Sadly.

I've been to the beach a couple times. Once with Mav and Morgan (Pierre, to you). Naturally all kinds of hilarity ensued. That led up to the post I never finished called, The One Where They Call Me John. But I have retired the John alter ego because I never really liked "that John person" anyway. That is part of the character. But that post would have been very you-had-to-be-there in an abstract way. (On second thought, that post is coming to a blog near you, as I am chuckling thinking about it. Heh.)

I ran into this guy and became a Missed Connection. Or not. I blew it though. That might warrant a story. We will call that one, Love Me Two Times, or more likely, Hate Me Today. You may not want to say to a guy you run into (whom you spent one weekend two summers ago running your fingers through his hair), "Do you have lumps on the back of your head?" as the distinguishing indentification recognition (or pickup line) when you can't remember his name. Ahh...Kevin! A day late and a bus short, indeed.

Next month: family time, Outer Banks, and a Tavern on the Green wedding.

In the meantime: looking forward to John Doe tonight, welcoming a new friend to the neighborhood on Wednesday, condo board dramatics on Thursday. and obsessively watching Flight of the Conchords over and over again.

Inspiration will come to me soon...

The New It Couple: It's Your Bearthday

I left behind a weekend of celebrating Mother Earth and the horror of a possible world of only One. Square. To. Spare. [Edited to add: Oh...thank god!...she was kidding. Jokes, Sheryl's got 'em. Resume to your regularly scheduled wad of TP.]

I left behind a weekend of my annual 29th birthday, also known as Stop Talking About Tequila Day, by celebrating with Mav, Morgan, and DP in appropriate fashion that consisted of me dipping my toes in a very deep fountain. I'd like to think it was the Fountain of Youth.

Soon, I will leave for Vegas. I will be in the company of good friends. I will lie in a pool by the Eiffel Tower. The rest as "they" say Stays.

Patheticicity

How did Friday night come to this?

Drinking a bottle - or two - of wine and cyberstalking and buying furniture online. I even rode out to Loehman's so I could pick up new pajamas for such a night. Well, I intended on finding some cute outfit but the only draw were leopard print pj bottoms and a pink tank-nightshirt.

So here I am...in all my leopard/pink glory, cruising the guys online.

Mav says I have given drunk dialing a whole new meaning.

Don't get me wrong...I looked forward to a night at home, playing with my new computer, fixing my blog, transfering music to the new computer, and cyber-stalking guys I don't know.

That Guy

He's not the one you notice first. Maybe his friend is hitting on you.

He's the one that knocks you down with his quirky good looks and his quiet mystery.

He makes your belly hurt from laughter.

He kisses the top of your head, brushes the hair out of your face, and asks you where the fuck you have been.

Vacation, Had To Get Away

I have hit the crossroads of Mental Exhaustion Avenue and Irritable Street. Between buying the house, losing my assistant at work, and putting my sweet little puss-n-boots to sleep, I have been extremely busy and emotional. So I have been eating a lot of potatoes and not exercising. And my dating life has been on hold as in I can't stomach any one guy right now. Except Willem Defoe...where has he been?

So that's the silence.

And when the going gets rough, you realize you need an attitude adjustment to get you out of this funk. So what am I doing about it? Heading south. Miami. South Beach to be exact. And I hope that the recipe of a very long Memorial Day weekend plus tanning in the sun plus drinking Sapphire martinis plus eating fruit and salads plus celebrating Mav's Birthday will hopefully be the catharsis I need to snap out of the depressive funk. Because I don't want to take a pill.

I will be penniless and drunk for the next 6 days.

But before I go and work on an attitude adjustment, I have some things to get off my chest....

People, always let the people OFF the elevator before you barrel in.

Please God, let Barabaro get better, not be in pain, and not have to be euthanized.

Shut up people who think that it is a peaceful death. Because it is not. Besides they need to fix him so he can make some babies. His stud fee will be penniful and he could sire an Einstein.

Hence, I am trying a vegetarian diet this weekend.

I miss my cat very much.

Next time I look up in the sky, please $10,000 fall on my head.

Brangelina, have your baby already.

Movers, please show up on the 31st and like, not take 7 hours that you are telling me you need to move 25 boxes, an armoire, a bed, a chair, a dresser, and a desk only a block away. Because I will ride your ass to get you people moving. I'm in no mood.

Yukkell, please get over yourself already. I don't really give a damn if you use my friend as your real estate agent and it doesn't bother me one bit that you are getting married. You are so 1999-2005. It died.

Bathing suits, please look good on me this weekend. Please look good on me this weekend. Please look good on me this weekend.

So I hope to be back in June slimmer, tanner, and happier. I will be a homeowner come May 30th so that is a start.

God, I can't wait to lay on a Florida beach.....home.

Have a great Memorial Day weekend!

My Pen Pal

I'm working on a few posts but seem to not be able to get them to work. I chalk it up to WAY too much things going on.

What's troubling me this week? In no particular order:

First, coordinating 3 points of the actual move. First, I have to schedule the movers. Second, I have to reserve a time slot in my current residence in order to use the freight elevator. Third, I have to reserve the freight elevators in my new home too. Now I thought this would be the easiest so I saved it for last. It is a smaller building and it is condo so I figured there would be less people moving in and out. Wrong. This is the sticking point. Someobody already has the elevator reserved for that day. And they won't let you move in after 5 so as not to disrupt the homeowners. Conversely, the apartment building I am in now could care less. I could move out at midnight if I wanted to. So this has my thoughts preoccupied this week as I work out the kinks.

On top of this, I have to call the vet to put the cat to sleep. This is hard. It's time and I'm not a very "motherly" type but it is still hard considering I have had the cat for 15 years and even then she was "older."

Finally, I still have not researched the horses for the Derby this weekend. I'm so behind on that. I'm pretty lucky on the horses. Funny. Unlucky with men. But lucky with the horses. Hmm.

So, in the meantime, I have a guest blogger post because this girl is so darn creative it kills me.

There is nothing like getting love letters from your 7-year old niece.

It started when I was visiting Easter weekend and she passed me this note during Easter brunch at her momma's, where she set the table and made the seating chart and strategically placed the potatoes next to me and the sausages next to her so we could be surrounded by the best of the b(r)unch. Everybody else had to settle for the eggs and the toast residing next to them. I did share the potatoes. (I know I have waxed on about how I believe in a potato-ful world.)

Bye Yaya, hope
you get home safely.
When you get
home please[scratched out] run &
get paper and a pen
along with a envelope [sic]
becuase [sic] I really[scratched out] want some mail.

Thus a pen pal was born. So I sent her a thank you letter as soon as I got home as she made me a very cute little kitty coin purse.

She followed up that with this letter:

Thank you for
the letter. I'm
glad you could
find a useful
thing to do
with your change
purse. I made a
song for you

I miss you, I want
to kiss you, why
Oh why can't
I kiss you
We are like
two twins & when
I see you
I will spinnnn!

Beautiful.

Valentine Randomness

The Mood: A Playlist

This Valentine's Day I Wanna Be Adored [Stone Roses] because the last month just Makes No Sense At All [Husker Du]. But what really sucks about it is I have to drink Champagne From A Paper Cup [Death Cab] because the jackass has my sterling silver champagne bucket with four champagne glasses that I can't ask for because he won't even call me back. I want to get all You Oughta Know [Alanis Morissette] but instead there was only a Tear Stained Letter [Johnny Cash] that was never sent because really, it's Just Another Day [Oingo Boingo]. And frankly, The Future Is So Bright I Got To Wear Shades [Timbuk 3].

The Past: My Life

My daddy's name was Valent. My grandma would actually say that it was really Valentine but my dad never admitted to that. And like our 'ole Saint - that some love and some curse because you have it or you don't - my Daddy Valentine was full of the love. I have it.

The Hope: Eternal, I Hope

It's called dating and I am back baby. You know I won't be able to keep my mouth shut about it. But I promise that I will not use anything like "love of my life" "my favorite guy ever" or "boyfriend" - which I now hate as much as "fiance". Yuk.

A Pop Culture Reference: Appropriate Cheesy Optimism

I ch-ch-choose....ME. ;)

Happy Valentine's Day, y'all!

A PSA And A Subliminal Message

Do not buy knock-off purses anymore.

Counterfeit fashion seems passable on first glance, but closer inspection reveals misspelled logos, inferior craftsmanship, puckered seams, low quality leather, large, uneven stitching, and flimsy hardware. Next time you see a purse posing as the real thing, inspect it more closely. And if you see a “Made in Taiwan” tag, know it is not authentic.

Besides, if the price is right and you can buy it off the trunk of a car, then it IS too good to be true. Why settle for less than an original?

Recipes, From My Kitsch To Yours

The Baked Manwich

1 Busy guy
1/2 Promise to go to a wedding
1 Date to see a band
1 Invitation to go to see a different band
1 Case of not showing up to see band
A sprinkle of emails
A Healthy dose of befuddlement
A Healthier dose of annoyance
Salt in the eye

Stir all the ingredients together. You need a very large bowl for this because you may find other ingredients necessary to get the right flakiness. Once the batter is the right consistency (i.e., too flaky to actually congeal), pour into trashcan. Light a match. Throw the trashcan over the balcony and watch the Manwich dissipate. Your torched culinary presentation will make Baked Alaska look like a twinkie sundae. Now pour yourself a stiff drink.

------------------------------------
The Dew Drop

A million grains of sand
40 Gajillion waves
1 House
12 Fun people
1 HUGE party
Lots and lots of alcohol

Blend all the ingredients together. Pulse for one minute. Add more alcohol as needed. Can be sipped or chugged. Just enjoy all summer long.

----------------------------------------------------------
The Fat Burger

1 Invitation to be on an Advisory Panel
4 Hours of acting the part of a Talking Head
15 Minutes of winging it
One thousand dollars

Mix all together. Bake. Try not to eat all in one sitting. Best if you store this in the freezer so it will last. Do not let anyone named Neiman Marcus eat it.

How Is This For Wasting Your Time?

It is nice to see what the Internets think of me (via Googlism).

Lara is so cool.
Lara is certain of being able to break many world athletic records and so sees no challenge in this herself.
Lara is here to sizzle.
Lara is a limited edition cold.
Lara is further proof that she is too much a force of nature to be contained within the game world.
Lara is seen running through the air.
Lara is out there.
Lara is hot.
Lara is facing exactly north.
Lara is enabling a new generation of innovative applications.
Lara is a beautiful woman that can jump.
Lara is in kindergarten and she loves school.
Lara is a first grader now.
Lara is currently accepting new training horses in anticipation of her new inside barn.
Lara is in Ireland with her friend Alex Stewart.
Lara is synthetic does not lessen her appeal.

I'd like to thank Angelina Jolie as Lara Croft for making my name's internet stock go way up.

A Movable Feast

Easter. It is all about the candy.

I plan on eating lots of it this weekend.

...Cadbury Caramel Eggs...Cadbury Mini Eggs...Jellybeans...Peeps...Malted MilkEggs...Reese's Peanut Butter Eggs...Solid Milk Chocolate Easter Bunny...

{Sigh}

To be a kid again...and to not have to worry about those eggs going straight to my thighs.
To be a kid again...and have my basket of delight hidden for me to find.
To be a kid again...and put on my Easter dress that my grandma handstitched.
To be a kid again...and have my Dad make keilbasi for dinner.
To be a kid again...and smell sauerkraut and keilbasi stinking up the house.
To be a kid again...and trade and barter candies with my brother and sister.
To be a kid again...and eat my chocolate bunny in stages - ears first.
To be a kid again...and not have to worry about that bunny going right to my own cottontail.

A million and one people don't lie: "I'm getting older. My metabolism is not what it used to be." Yeah. Slowed Down Metabolism is a bitch.

So maybe I will just roam the Easter candy aisle instead and remember what that chocolate bunny tasted like. Because memory is still always sweeter than the candy will ever be.