The Sound of Sunshine

Yesterday we signed the franchise agreement and sent it off. Query whether the stoner dude at the 24 hour FedEx/Kinkos understood that we wanted him to ship it for us.

Anyway, it should be on its way.

After putting it in the mail, I didn't feel like popping champagne. I didn't feel like shopping. I just felt like running. So I ran down the parkway listening to Michael Frianti's "The Sound of Sunshine" over and over and grinning from ear to ear.

We just bought ourselves a franchise! (Of course, we have to build it first but details, details.)

Weekend Treat - Target $15 Skirts

The office where I work is located right behind a Target. Accordingly, I have spent more time wandering the aisles there than most people will in a lifetime. I found these cute skirts there for only $15 each.

My normal uniform is jeans, tank and boyfriend cardigan. (Oh J Crew why won't you set me free.) However, it has just been too hot for jeans this summer.

My mom wore that necklace on the yellow and blue outfit when she had tea with the Queen. That's HRH, not Latifah. Although, come to think of it, it would be considerably more cool if I could tell you that my mom had tea with Queen Latifah. Oh, and the tea with the other Queen, there were also 999 other people there. Anyway . . .

I am very proud of myself that I found these great skirts for less than I spend on coffee some days.

[Gray Outfit: Target skirt, Target t-shirt, Limited necklace. Yellow and Blue Outfit: Target skirt, Harolds shirt (may Harolds RIP), necklace vintage (Liberty of London, I think)]

How I Got Kicked Off The Kid Bday Party Circuit

My BFF asked me if I was going to our other friend's daughter's birthday party. We both paused for a moment as we came to the realization that I had not been invited.

AG: "Do you suppose it was because I gave her four year old son a gun for his birthday?"
BFF: "It might be. I thought it was a great idea. Until he shot me square between the eyes. That kid is a good shot." (I witnessed the whole thing. That kid is an excellent shot.)

Let's pause here to interject that BFF was the one who encouraged me to go ahead and give the kid a gun because, after all, he was born in Texas. Anyway, it was a really good idea.

a) It shoots non-ouchy foam disks. It's not like I got him the one that shoots potatoes; and
b) After he opened my present, he literally did not touch another gift for the entire party. He thought it was the best present ever.

Plus, I haven't been invited to another kid's birthday party since. We all win.

Kansas, Rachel Zoe and Starbucks Etiquette

1. Someone from Olathe found this blog searching on "shark bite margaritas." But here's the best part - it was at 8:45 in the morning. Yes! Yes! The breakfast margarita is highly underutilized.

Who are you in Olathe? I might love you.

2. Let us not let the fact that it is Shark Week overshadow the fact that it is also the return of the Rachel Zoe Project. I actually hate myself while I am watching it, and I know it makes me stupider. But watch it I do. Oh how blissful it must be to be that self-centered. Also, does anyone not think that Taylor has a case for SLANDER. (Or is it libel?)

3. New Rule. You are not allowed to purchase all of your groceries at the Starbucks kiosk at the Safeway. Someone who has not yet had their morning coffee might spontaneously combust.

They Are Cute When They Are Small

As the Staircase Witch staircasewitch.blogspot.com pointed out yesterday, the small sharks are cute. In fact, when we were on vacation in French Polynesia I walked with them in the two foot waters. Here are some in a feeding frenzy mere feet from where I was standing.

There was a part of our private cruise where we went to a spot where we could walk from one island to the next and the water never got deeper than our knees.

Nobody else showed up for the cruise so we had a crew of 8 to ourselves. Oh but I am still just Associate Girl From the Block.

I thought to myself that there was no way in hell I was going to walk to the other island if I so much as thought I saw a fin. Well, I looked into the water and I immediately saw a fin. Immediately. My choices were to sit on the one island while my husband and Francois, our tour guide, set off to the other island leaving me alone to perish by way of rat-sized ants and rat-sized rats, or to get in the water with them and the sharks.

Those sharks will stare you down. They will swim right up to your ankles and stare at you with their dead black eyes. But then I realized that if you so much as flinch they will dart off. So after about an hour I was chasing those suckers down. "Here poisson. Here mon petit poisson" (We were in French Polynesia. They speak French.)

But the big ones in the open water? No. They would be all, "Allo! Un digestif!"

My Contribution to Shark Week

I hear that you are twice as likely to die from a vending machine falling over on you than you are from a shark attack. Let's examine why this is an entirely faulty statistic.

(1) Vending machines don't move. That's it. There's no 2. If somebody is killed by a vending machine, it can only be their fault.

On the other hand, nobody goes around purposefully sticking their hands into sharks and shaking them around when they don't produce Twizzlers. When sharks attack, it's their fault. Sharks make bad choices. Ergo, sharks are evil.

End of debate. I wonder what else I can prove using a pack of Twizzlers?

So. Very. Happy.

I spent some time this weekend throwing out a decade's worth of legal papers and practice group journals. I'm not going to lie - it wasn't entirely easy to accept that that part of my life is over.

But it got easier and easier . . .

By Sunday I was positively giddy.

(Note to self for therapist - explore possibility of psychosis of some description.)

It felt as if the weight of the world had been lifted off of my shoulders. I felt like running for a really long time. I felt like weeding. I felt like buying new furniture. I felt like cleaning. I smiled a lot.

(Note to self - no longer have lawyer's salary. Do NOT buy new furniture.)
(Note to self - surprisingly, don't care.)