The mii Bitch

Here she is. She looks all sweet and innocent, but she gets her arse kicked on a daily basis in whatever she is doing.

Seriously though, she is kind of cute yes? She is my constant companion lately. I play golf with her, I bowl with her, I do a humiliating balancing act with her. I let her holler insults at me while she measures my BMI.

I'll get her the little wii mii.

I have to admit I like it when she says, "You're strong! You have good balance"! She looks just like me.

The Day After

Christmas was lovely. I cooked (despite my lack of domestic skills of late), Pupcake fetched Momma Betty, the kidlets came, and we had the best time drinking wine, playing Super Mario Bros (sooooo much fun even if I SUCK!), listening to The Beatles (thanks Pupcake! The best present ever!), and watching movies all cozied up in our afghans and snuggies.

So, while attempting to make whipped cauliflower for us girly-types I had difficulties with my Cuisinart. No matter what I did it wouldn't whip my vegies into a frenzy. Couldn't get it to turn on! Am I losing my touch? ;)

So I moved the glop into a mixing bowl and whipped with beaters (this all sounds provocative - it wasn't) showering me and Momma Betty with a rain of cauliflower. Momma B was ducking at one point! That cruciferiously-stubborn mess never did whip into the lovely and light side dish I had imagined in my Martha Stewart-place. Not even close. Not even a block away. Not even with binoculars. Aaah, the joy of cooking. I'll stick to the other joy-of thank you, thank you very much.

So, I sit here in my office, listening to George snore away in his chair and Pupcake working away at his dual-monitor while I count my blessing and ignore the rest.

Merry Christmas everyone. Now it's on to the new year!

Oh Dear and Oh Oh

Pup and I remodeled our house a bit about a year ago, the kitchen being the biggest thing we tackled. It's quite lovely, but I must admit to not entirely loving the appliances we picked out.

We went with a company called LG. They look spiff, but I truly wanted a Sub-Zero fridge and a Wolf range. I don't have a Sub-Zero or Wolf budget so we bought the LGs. Piles I must say.

So, last night I'm making dinner and decide that I will use (for the first time) my broiler for the chicken breasts. I turn it on and put them in and before you can say "what's that smell"? flames are shooting out of the oven door.

Pup wants to grab the pan, run to the back door, and throw the mess out of the door. I'm wailing and throwing my hands akimbo saying, "no no no"! All I can imagine is hearing the dreaded, "oh oh" as Pup goes reeling through the dining room.

He looks at me and says, "Honey, we have a serious fucking problem here!" Even in his alarm, my Pup is calm and sensible.

After the crisis had been dealt with we were rolling on the floor with laughter repeating his sentence over and over. "Honey, we have a serious fucking problem here!" This will forever be our code for laughing until tears squirt out of our eyes.

End note of story - we ate the chicken breasts, but I admit to feeding much of mine to George.

Promises

1. I won’t add music to my blog. I love me some good music, but people!, your music is annoying. (Is that complaining? See below.)
2. I won’t apologize only to please. No prisoners just might be something I need to embroider on a pillow. If I remembered how.
3. I won’t give up coffee. I swear to give up stuff all the time, but coffee will not be on that list. Ever. LOVE IT.
4. I won’t judge. No one loves a cranky-ass.
5. I won’t avoid. It’s a slippery place to live.
6. I won’t procrastinate. Well . . . can I get back to you on that one?
7. I won’t stop learning. I had a conversation with a woman a few years older than me who had also lost her job. She declared she was, “too old to learn anything new” and was not going to bother thinking about it. WTH.
8. I won’t complain. Get over my damn self.
9. I won’t be a resolutioner. Be steady.
10. Lastly, I won’t be unhappy. Happy is the best accessory.

Are you thinking about promises?

Sunday Funnies

Two Tiger jokes - apologies, I just can't help myself.

Tiger in happier days.

Tiger should have taken a cue from Santa and stopped at three ho's.

Did you hear that Tiger is changing his name? He is now Cheetah Woods.

Da dum dum . . . I'm here all week peeps.

Hot Men Friday

Oh George. Is anyone shorter, smarter, or sexier? I can't wait to see him every Sunday morning. He's a sharp wave on a shallow sea. LOVE HIM.

He became more to me when I first saw his wife. She's a nut and his marrying her endears him to me. I might even have to watch GMA just to see him. Okay - maybe not.

After all, my dog's name is George.

Progress

Observe cranky face--->
Cranky face is for the gift of procrastination - if today isn't 12.16 then scroll up or forget it. :)

No, I won't be detailing all of this out, but I did want to document just a tad.

Part of the wrecking ball is, of course, getting stuff done. I made a list and this is what has been accomplished. A stellar beginning. It is. Really. I swear. Stop whispering behind my back.

1. Hair. I had highlights done. And my raging regrowth. Shout out to the darling Gabrielle of Juut Salon. She is the cutest young un ever. I LOVE her.
   
2. Hair. Appointment made for cut tomorrow. Aaaaah! Let the anxiety begin.
3. Acupuncturist appointment. Oh yes I did. My sis and bro in law swear this is awesome. The name of the place is Green Dragon. I will leave a trail of aromatherapy candles. Will ya all come find me if I don't return in a timely fashion? Please?
4. Eye appointment with the wonderful Dr. Heyen. I have been seeing this handsome dude for 30 years. Is that possible??
   
5. Orientation for school set up. Eee gads. This one gives me hives. School! For real school, not community ed. I'll bring a paper bag to breath into.

There it is. The wrecking ball is swinging.

Obsession

I have a new one.

I’ve been toying with my wrecking ball approach to a new me for a bit now. I do love the phrase “wrecking ball.” It alludes (with a huge iron ball!) to tearing down the old to make way for new new new. I’ve been floundering around a bit in my ADD way and having some trouble getting started.

So one morning I’m reading my blogs from Google Reader and listening to the Lori & Julia Show from fm107. A guest on the show is The Makeover Guy, Christopher Hopkins. Here is his wiki page.

I live in the land of gorgeous people and even better hair. There is great hair in the Minneapolis area! There is really bad hair too (sorry Fridley and Coon Rapids), but in the Minneapolis and the St. Paul urban area you can park your arse in many different locations and watch the gorgeous hair walk by. If you’re quick, you can run one of these incredibly fit people down and pound the name of their salon out of them. Maybe.

After all, we’re the home to Aveda (I grew up in Highland Park – home to Horst of Austria, the father of Aveda), Rocco Altobelli, Jon English Salon, Juut, Christopher's own ReVamp Salon, and so many others – one better than the next. I’ve been to more of them than I can count, but we’re not going to go into my hair-history. I don’t want to cry.

So I’m listening to Christopher Hopkins talk on the show and I remember that I own his book, Staging Your Comeback: A Complete Beauty Revival for Women Over 45. I run over to my bookcase to find it!

I bought it a couple of years ago when it came out. Christopher (imagine me saying that like Adriana from the Sopranos – Kristafah!) is a local style expert. Hair, lifestyle, fashion, decorating, everything. I’ve seen many of his makeovers on television, read about him in the newspaper, and listened to him on the radio over the years. In fact one of the Second Act women in his book is my former boss from Hazelden, Linda. I squealed when I saw her in the book! She is a lovely woman and he made her seriously stunning.

I met Christopher once myself. Or should I say I startled/annoyed him once.

I wish!

A woman I used to work with, Amy, is the niece of Uncle Gary – Minneapolis man-for-everything. I love Uncle Gary. In fact, he once said to me, “Bettie, (he thought I looked like Bettie Page) if I were straight, I would make you howl at the moon,” but I am going off-point.

Amy had gotten tickets from her Uncle Gary to a posh club opening and her hubbins, Bubba, wouldn’t go. She asked me.

I fretted over my outfit, makeup, hair, everything. We were going to be hanging out with all the Snaabs that our area can serve up. And the people at the club were beautiful! It was a blast to just hang at the bar, chat up the cute bartenders, drink the horrible sweet free drinks, eat the brilliant free tappas, and get an eyeful of all that is beautiful in Minneapolis. Oh the gorgeousness!

Amy turned to me and said, “We are the ugly bettys in the room you know.” I had to agree. With my Ann Taylor Loft outfit (I panicked – what can I say?) and her weird shawl, we really were a pair.

But after some lubrication of the alcohol-type, a gathering around us of fun people we somehow knew, and a few new people drawn to us because we’re fun, we really begin to laugh and sparkle.

I followed Amy outside to cool off and watch her smoke when I spotted Christopher.

“Christopher!,” I screeched. He turned, startled, towards me. I was just drunk enough to let my social-tourette's have its way. I saw his face go through several thoughts, do I know this woman? No, I don’t. Who is she? Is she dangerous? No – she’s just badly dressed. I saw it! Brilliant!

He looked me up and down and said, “I can see what you’re trying to do here.” Oh! Amy and I collapsed into laughter.

“I know Uncle Gary, Christopher! He loves me!”

The drunken, bitchy woman-lawyer that was hanging with us turned to me and spat, “Uncle Gary loves everyone you dumb-ass.” So much for Christopher and me having a connection.

Ugly bettys indeed! Hey, I’m more comfortable at Whiskey Junction. I drive a Jeep Wrangler, not an Audi.

Back to the book.

I’m excited. I am loving this book. It goes into DETAIL! Detail is important. It’s easy to just tell women, find a good stylist, get wardrobe basics, eat right, work out, blah blah blah. This book has details. Step by step details that appeal to my ADD.

I’ll report on my progress.

Sundays

They are the best.First we brought in the tree that we picked out last night.

Then I made Sunday morning eggs.

Then I got beautiful.

Goofed around in the office.

Watched some football with Pup.

Read my book.

Calvin took a nap.

Pup put lights on the tree. This pic really is bad!

We went to the kidlet's house for dinner.

Girls drink wine while . . .

Boys cook.

A brilliant day.

Hot Men Friday

Oh dear. I am turning into a cliche yes? Ha! But come on - look at that cranky face! And his hair makes me want to toss onion rings on the spikes and win a prize.

And what about his wife yes?

Love it! It's crazy in a fur box, but LOVE HER!

They are each half of a very hot couple. Are you half of a hot couple?

~~~~~~~~~~

Okay, it's early, and I'm still drinking my coffee. Forgive?

How Long (Has This Been Going On)?

Oh my gosh. Here is the first Mac I ever owned. I took a few classes, spent so many hours on my own, freelanced for my bro and sis-in-law in the first version of PageMaker. Ooooh that was a while ago.

What is sexier than computering? Mac as fashion? Do you all remember your first? How you loved it? Couldn't wait to get alone with it? I was obsessed certainly.

20 years! 20 years of computer-love.

My new Mac is the sexiest ever. One piece with my add-on (even sexier) Bose speakers. The white mouse. The white keyboard. Pure mind-lube lovelies.

Think about how this thing [I'm talking to you PC people as well :) ] has changed your world in the past 20 years. I can't even imagine.

How long has it been going on for you?

Hot Men Friday

Phenomenon was on some station the other day. I stumbled on it while looking for something to have on as buzz in the background - god forbid I sit in silence you know. It reignited my old old crush on John Travolta. Old Dogs opens this weekend too (I think?) so that might have been the other reason he's been on my mind.

Loved him so much in Saturday Night Fever right?

Hey - watch the hair! That could sum up a lot of days I'm thinking. Ha!

~~~~~~

Afterthought - there were no hot men in November! Interesting or indicative? Grr right?

The Taste of My Cherry Chapstick

Of all the things I carry in my handbag, the single thing I would turn back to get if I left it at home is my Cherry Chapstick. I can feel my lips shriveling just at the thought of not having the cherry replenishment. I do fear it is turning into an addiction. Is there cherry rehab? Cherry 12-steppin'? Cherry amends to make?

I have taken to hiding them all over the house. Tucking them into jacket pockets. Holding one in my hand while going for a walk. One in the kitchen. One in my office. One with my makeup.

I fear an intervention at any moment. All my friends and family in a room holding spent tubes of the stuff. Telling stories of how my habit has effected their lives. My cat and dog looking at me with sad eyes, their fur sticky with my cherry kisses.

At least my lips are soft.

Addicted to Exercise

Wow! This is some kind of crazy.

I am reading my Google Reader listings this morning and making my six-week plan when this pops up in one of my body training blogs. Whoo doggies. I get the concept, but the execution could cause lips a flappin' in a few families.

I'll keep this one in the back of my mind for the time being. Maybe forever.

Is it wrong that I am laughing my arse off at the moment? I'm certain this guy is dead serious about his workout. Oh dear the squirting tears.