Monday Monday, Can't Trust That Day

We hosted a party over the weekend here at the Chez Emerson.

A murder mystery dinner.

Which was so much fun and surprisingly get-into-it-able. Is that not a word? I didn't have a word. But trust me, the participants were very fun with their character development. My Sarah Bella called us LARPERS (I think). It's some sort of totally geeky thing where the game players dress up in costumes. So yes, we were larpers. It makes me laugh. Who doesn't like a good role play now and again? I'm winking here. Oh come on - you all have done it SOMEWHERE. It's fun!

We did this party as part of our quarterly GNO (girl's night out) and I think it was a great success! Quite a few in this group are good actors. And good lookin'.

But this post isn't only about the party of larpers or the details of the party; it's also about my Sarah Bella. Who not only was strong armed by her momma (me) into helping us stay on course, but was pimped out by us as a server, bartender, cook, party motivator, and slave.

She dressed the part perfectly. Black slacks, white blouse. I gave her a Mardi Gras bow tie to complete her outfit.

She greeted guests at the door, took their coats, gave them their name tags, got them drinks, brought their food contributions to the party room, and, in one case, cooked one guest's cheese dip.

And, most importantly, kept us on track. Because I know that left to our own devices our train would have left the track very very quickly.

I'm the luckiest momma in the world.

Love you my Sarah Bella.

DietBet

I'm participating in a challenge through my Fitfluential group. Since all of us resolutioners are resolutioning it seemed like a way to jumpstart.

Our challenge is we bet $25 dollars we can lose 4 percent of our bodyweight by a goal date. The winners split the pot.

Why not? I'd waste $25 willy nilly here and there so why not on this? Me?

Check DietBet out and start your own challenge!

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I was wandering around yesterday looking for inspiration and found a post by a very motivated guy that talked about blogs that start out hot and heavy and then limp off into . . . I don't know where they go! They just disappear.

Yup.

Gah and oh oh.

I'm allowing January to kick my butt. I'd rather kick it's dark, dreary, cold ass.

Okay.

We went to dinner with daughter Lorenzo the other evening and she was sharing how a friend of hers is going for her training certificate (I think?? Something like this.) and is training Lorenzo and one of Lorenzo's friends. Working them to death. It sounds good!

My friend and fellow blogger tPretty (love you T) has always been the gold-standard for fitness. She puts the rubber on the road always and if she lived by me I would be begging her on a daily basis to train me.

I have another friend that is training for half marathons and mentioned how addicted he has become to running.

This sounds good to me as well. Not becoming addicted to running because that is not my thing, but becoming addicted to fitness and nutrition and bombing the blues.

Bombing the Blues.

Hot Men Friday

Matt Damon

I know I've shown Matt here before. I have an urge to show him again so guess what? Yup.

He has a good face. Good lips. Nice ass. Seems self-deprecating. And Republican-types seem to not love him, so all the better! That was smart-assy wasn't it? That kind of make me happy because my smart-assy ways have gone with the warm temperatures. This month sucks everything good out of me. My mood, my dewy fresh skin, my smart-assy ways.

I fear for next month!

But, yes, this is a good face. It could cheer me up. Yes!

How can you be mad at a guy that can play the hot character Jason Bourne . . .

Then play Liberace's lover (ooooh that word! Not a good word. Right up there with moist and vagina - boner killers).

I love that he is kinda goofy and has an ass that deserves some visual appreciation. Sorry Matt, you are being objectified.

I think he'll get over it.

But I won't.

I Left That Where??

I have a lot of devices.

I have my beloved iMac that is beginning to show his age.

I have my new Macbook Pro laptop (kiss kiss). A powerhouse that I will be loading with all of my powerhouse software so I can do my new job on the fly as I've found working at home all the time is kinda lonely and I need the office culture to keep me lovely and smart and plugged in. This sweetie is gorgeous and I am in love with it.

I have my iPad. I didn't love my iPad at first. I kinda thought it was crazy to have, yet, another thing to manage. I have found that it's a great resource and very portable for my transient ways at the moment. My scary-genius boss set up my work email on this little baby so I have to keep it close. Pup got me a keyboard that holds it and then snaps onto as a cover. That really clinched the deal for me. I hated that touchscreen. My brain loves to work fast; when it's working.

Last, but not least, is my phone. I stopped bitching about it (finally) and find it lovely. Samsung, love has grabbed me, beat me over the head, and left me a slave to you. #overstatingismylife

Why am I talking about these life-helpers? I have a hard time managing everything!

First: the email. I have email everywhere. I have five email accounts for differing reasons. Jobs, transitioning, blog. All five of them are necessary. And all five of them come in on every device. Gah!

It doesn't stop me from losing emails. Forgetting emails. Over-answering emails. Under-answering emails. I am in email overload. I think it's my fault.

Then there is Facebook. I have been goofing with it for the past year and have found it fun and have found it a time suck as maybe some of you with Facebook have found it.

I open Facebook on my iMac, I open it on my Macbook, I open it on my iPad, I open it on my phone. I forget to shut it down. I'm sure if anyone is looking, and I'm pretty certain no one is, it looks like I'm on all the time. #fail

And the pinging. If I don't watch it, all of these things are chiming, pinging, ringing, nagging. Pup will say, "Was that you? Which one is it?" He's no better. He has lots of devices as well.

It's a dinging hell around here. And I'm not even adding in the appliances that ding and ping.

I could turn them all off and sometimes do. Turn off all the sounds that pop out of them. The quiet is good!

How do you guys manage all that you do? Am I missing an app? Don't tell me about it! But do tell me how you manage your stuff.

Quote

Every girl is expected to have caucasian blue eyes, full Spanish lips, a classic button nose, hairless Asian skin with a California tan, a Jamaican dance-hall ass, long Swedish legs, small Japanese feet, the abs of a lesbian gym owner, the hips of a nine-year-old boy, the arms of Michelle Obama, and doll tits.

The person closest to actually achieving this look is Kim Kardashian, who, as we know, was made by Russian scientists to sabotage our athletes. Everyone else is struggling.

~Tina Fey

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When I'm all done growing up (which, let's face it, will never happen) I want to be smart, funny, and adorkable like this woman.

I already have the glasses. The rest can't be far behind yes?

Trips and Falls

12.31.12

I'm up in the loft. Packing for our trip to the Dominican Republic. I'm on the phone with my Shelley-Belly.

"Are you guys so excited? Have you ever been there before?" my SB asks.

"We haven't! I'm trying to figure out outfits for seven balmy evenings," I reply.

"Hey Shelley-Belly? I'm feeling a bit weird - I think I just pooped my pants," I say.

And so it begins.


NOROVIRUS

I spend the rest of the afternoon with head shoved into a bucket so the other end can be safe. You get the picture.

I pass out on the sofa in The Big Room. I sleep so hard and long that I don't even hear George while he's begging to go outdoors. Poor Georgie.

Pup comes home.

"Do you think you'll be able to fly tomorrow?"

I shoot him a look. I don't think it was nice.

I can tell he thinks I'm being a puss. But later when I emerge from the bathroom I find him and all three pets staring at me from the steps to the loft.

"It's bad isn't it babe?" he asks.

I start crying.

Later Pup tells me, "I feel weird."

Pretty soon his head is shoved into a bucket.

Life is not good.

We miss our New Year's Day plane.

I fear we will miss the trip.

Pup has it, but not quite as badly as me. Doesn't it figure? Nothing vegetable-like EVER enters his body, yet his immune system is strong like bull. He is strong like bull.

By 1.2.13 he is feeling really good and I'm feeling kinda good. We decide to go on trip. Two days late and with adjustment fees (the bastards), but we go.

Yay!

The travel day for me is bad. Our first full day in the Dominican is Friday. I am in a fog.

Then the fog lifts and we have a great time!

I stole the window seat from Pup just once.

Grounds of our resort. Of course I did not manage to get a shot of the ocean.

But here's some food just so you know it's me behind the phone. 

We played Bingo. Hey, we were drinking, what can I say? And I won.

They are very busy sniffing everything I brought home.

I got to wear all of the boob-baring dresses in my closet. I browned my skin and look Spanish according to one of the staff at our lovely resort. I got halfway through Anna Karenina (this is a feat let me say), I saw my ass on video (holy hannah), lay by the pool, got in the pool, floated in the pool.

I got to hang with my dear dear friend Allie McBeal (the best travel companion ever), shopped a little, ate a lot, drank some, and just breathed the balmy sea air with really bad hair.

Lovely lovely so lovely.

It was worth the bucket.