Round Up

I realized that there are a bunch of loops that I have never closed here. So here we are . . .

(1) Last Christmas, I blogged about my ex-husband taking his girlfriend of 3 years to Napa and we were all (well, I was and probably she was) thinking that they were going to get engaged. They did not. Her Dances with Wolves name is Large Angry Woman.

(2) The Decision on Margaritas? Deciding to go to law school. That's right. It was after a pitcher of margaritas that I decided I wanted to be a lawyer. (a) Note the impressive follow through! I may be inactive, but I am still a lawyer. (b) I miss Texas. Margaritas should be served in pitchers.

(3) My Dances with Wolves name is Sits In Cubicle. Still. The earliest The Franchise will be open is Spring of next year. We thought we had a primo space in a primo location, but all of a sudden we can't get the landlord's broker to return a call. Please send good space karma.

Pit Bull - O

I was surfing the web for images of porcupines (because, you know, it was Tuesday at noon) and I came across this picture . . .

This is what happens when a pit bull crosses a porcupine. I'm going to go out on a limb and say the porcupine won.

Image from worlds-smartest-man.com

Dances with Mousse

My husband got a copy of Dances with Wolves a few weeks ago. Every weekend he comments, "Shall we watch the movie, or would you like to put in Season 3 of Mad Men?"

Apparently there was a question in there somewhere. Anyway, I found this nice true ballet story that I wanted to go see this weekend (Mao's Last Dancer) and all of a sudden he had reached his limit for humoring me. It was time to watch Dances with Wolves. All 4 hours of it. The home DVD is FOUR HOURS.

Earlier that day, I could tell he was getting excited because he started to email me at work about the movie. He asked if I was excited to see the Buffalo. First he contemplated the plural of buffalo. I guess this isn't something they cover in the engineering department at Virginia Tech. It's Buffaloes, of course. Yay SMU!

I wrote him back and told him that I didn't remember the scene where Shoeless Joe Jackson had to pass through buffaloes to get to the corn field. Whereupon he wrote back, "Wrong movie." Then I said I didn't understand how they could keep buffalo on the atolls. And he wrote back, "Wrong movie."

Really? Because I was under the impression that Kevin Costner only ever made one movie, one big long movie.

Considering how much Mad Men that my husband has put up with, I decided to be a good sport about watching Dances with Wolves, and even resolved to stay awake. However, about one-third of the way through, the movie just got ridiculous and I could no longer watch. Stands With A Fist's hair - the hair mousse. I cannot get behind a movie about the Wild West if they expect me to believe that there was an abundance of hair mousse on the plains. That coif, that "hair-style" that Mary McDonnell sported, could only be achieved by a copious supply of mousse. And probably some hot rollers. Those tee-pees didn't even have electricity, and correct me if I am wrong but the cordless rollers didn't come about until much later. Dances with Wolves? Totally unrealistic.

Hottest Blood Draw Ever

In order to get the SBA loan for The Franchise, I had to get life insurance. In order to get life insurance, I had to get a physical. The life insurance company will send somebody right to your house to do the blood draw and get the urine sample.

I was standing on our porch waiting for the blood draw person to arrive (if it's your first time at our house, it's not entirely clear which door to use). While I was waiting, this guy on a motorcycle pulled up. He took off his helmet, ran his fingers through his hair, then asked, "Are you Associate Girl."

"YES!"

"I'm here to do your blood work and get a urine sample."

I usually don't greet people who say that to me with such a big smile.

While he was drawing my blood, I asked him if he was a nurse or a phlebotomists.

"Neither," he said. He paused for effect, then said, "I'm a fireman."

There is a long standing joke in my family about my love for fireman. I do not know where it began (I think it was before Denis Leary, although that helps). Anytime we see one, or even just a truck, my husband asks me if I would like to get out of the car. And here was a real live fireman in my living room!

Then he tells me about how he fights fires and as a side job he does blood draws. And he's really good at it. I am not just saying this, but he gave me the best blood draw I have ever had.

Then he loaded up my blood and pee, got back on his motorcycle and drove off.

POUFFLE!

My husband took me to J.Crew tonight in an effort to get me out of my funk. I know. I know! He's that good. When the greeter asked us if she could help, he asked her where the boyfriend cardigans were located. Sadly, there were no nice colors (that I didn't already have) so I ended up in accessories.

There I found a headband to wear to work. Because nothing says I take this job very seriously like a handband covered in black and white polka dot feathers.

Next we went to dinner. We are lucky enough to live in the town where Keegan Gerhard has his restaurant. Yes, that guy! The former judge of Food Network Challenge - i.e., the guy who knows how to bake stuff. There I had the Pouffle. The POUFFLE! Isn't that brilliant? It's a passion fruit souffle. I could not resist the opportunity to order a pouffle.

Pouffle pouffle pouffle.

You may now take back all of your comments about my having a discernible grip on reality. But I am happy here on the couch, wearing feathers and full of pouffle.

On A Positive Note

Because I was such a Debbie Downer yesterday (I hate the phrase "Debbie Downer" almost as much as I hate the word "panties"), I thought I would be more positive today. And because I was down on certain blogs, I thought I would focus on blogs today.

Ergo, here is a list of three really good blogs that sort of fall outside of the usual suspects around here (that is, the posse that originated with Juliet).

1. The Rockstar Diaries - http://www.taza-and-husband.blogspot.com/
This family (the couple and their bulldog) are so incredibly adorable. While normally that would turn me off, I really enjoy this blog. It's about their life and eats in and around D.C., and now about their being pregnant. Normally that's about where I stop following a blog, so that's a testament to how much I enjoy it. However, I reserve the right to unfollow if, after the birth, the blog becomes solely focused on the baby. Less baby more bulldog and it should remain stellar.

2. Confessions of a Mother, Lawyer & Crazy Woman. http://http//motherlawyercrazywoman.blogspot.com/
This lady is a great writer. She is witty and clever. She is like Jen Lancaster, only smart. (Although, I suspect that Jen Lancaster is a lot smarter than she lets on.)

3. Belle Maison http://www.bellemaison23.com/
You know how I say that I love the color orange but that it is not consistent with the style of my home? This lady posted about some vintage orange wallpaper and became my hero. This is by far the best design blog I have found. Every single post, day after day, is full of design ideas that are inspiring.

Enjoy.

In A Funk. And Mean.

I just can't pretend right now that it's all dappled sunshine and harvest scented candles around here. (Although it is pink and sparkly. The nail lady talked me into an O.P.I. axxium gel manicure using the color Princesses Rule. My nails now resemble some sort of coating most typically found on toys for three year old girls. I swear it did not look like that in the bottle.)

I know this feeling. I'm sliding into a funk. I hate it. My mother is sitting up in heaven (with a glass of wine, or maybe a gin, I have probably driven her to the gin) telling me to get over it already and go buy some new shoes. Perhaps Paolo Nutini is one of her love children.

I hope that I can write about being in a supreme funk from time to time and do so in the style of Dooce or Shauna Glenn. (We learned in advertising class to always compare your product to a better product.) They write about their funks and get over it and make us all feel better when it happens to us.

I hope I am not sounding like one of those bloggers that whines daily and seems to have no discernible grip on reality. Don't you have some blogs that you read out of sheer fascination because the writer seems to be crazy, and I am not talking about in a good way? I like a good nut job blog. I'm talking about blogs that you read and you think, "Wow. Really? You? You have issues. I can't wait for you to prove that to me again tomorrow." And we all end up feeling better about ourselves. Hey. I'm feeling better already.

Anyway, I was feeling like this the other week,







and I basically left such a blogger a comment telling her to get over it. I may have used the words "get over it." Accordingly, if you would like to tell me to get over it, I totally deserve it. And I feel bad, because clearly that blogger has issues. But then again - when you put it out there and beg for comments . . .

I'm not really practicing that love and light thing, huh? Baby steps people. Baby steps.

(picture of the sweet reptile from flmnh.ufl.edu)