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!

~~~~~~~~

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

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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.

Overheard

This is not my creation, but it's so adorable!

We moved Momma Betty (Pup's momma) into an assisted living community recently and while all of this is new and scary for her we want to make certain that she gets the lay of the land. But, of course, all of us are idiots and no one went over any of the paperwork given to us from the facility.

There's a lot to learn.

First of all - you can't just show up in the cafe and expect breakfast. You have to plan for that - as the kitchen would. So we were to have signed up the day before; which we didn't.

No, this is not a restaurant. Ha! You get what they're serving. Three very sad faces in my group. This family eats out a lot! Which means I eat out a lot! There will be a period of adjustment here.

So, while we're wreaking havoc in our Pup-family way, I sit back to listen to some of the other Q-tips (my affectionate naming of the senior-set). There is a conversation going on at a table just off of my left a bit.

Older gentleman is saying to older lady:

How long have you been here?

She replies:

Oh, I think I've been here the longest of anyone. I've been here since 1997!

Older gentleman:

What? No you haven't! I've been here the longest! 

Older Lady:

I don't remember you. I'm certain I would have seen you around.

Older gentleman:

I got down here at 7:30! I was the first!

Older lady shaking her head and looking confused.

Another older gentleman chimes in:

Honey, he means today - how long have you been here today?

She exclaims:

Now why would you want to know that? Breakfast doesn't start until 8:30!

I was choking on my oatmeal.

~~~~~~~

Happy New Year everyone!

Obsession

I've had this one for as long as I can remember. It's a bit embarrassing. Proof that I am eternally 12 years-old. Yeah, I knew you would agree!

I have a love.

A love for . . .

Office supplies.

Yep, I can't resist new mechanical pencils, the perfect gel pen, and notebooks.

Notebooks.

I have them tucked everywhere. In my handbag, in the kitchen, on my office desktop (well, duh!), in my bedroom, in my car, in The Big Room, in Pup's car, in the bathroom. Yes, even there. You just don't know when a random thought might appear and let's be clear here - if I don't write it down immediately, it's gone. GONE!

I know I've passed this particular obsession to at least one of my daughters. Along with my love of hair twirling. Hey! It's what mothers are for.

I don't think of my obsession as bad, I think of it as necessary.

I know they have some office supplies hidden in here somewhere.

What's your secret obsession?

Knee Deep in the Bootla

Well, not exactly. It's snowed a bit here and there, but not the pounding I'm desiring. It's winter! Let's get our snow on!

We have passed the shortest day which always makes me happy because now we're heading back to longer days of more light.

I do kinda cocoon in during these dark dark days. Very reflective. Maybe even a touch down. It's my nature. I'm mostly happy, but have never minded nurturing a down day here and there. It just feels right at times.

So I pad around in slippers and flannel, enjoying my SAD experience. If that makes no sense, well then welcome! You are beginning to get it!

All of that aside, let's enjoy a few shots of our Eve Eve.

Wow! Is that my house? I like it!

See the workout outfit hanging on the door at the top of the stairs? Yeah, it's been hanging there for more than a minute. Heh!

George is waiting for everyone to get here already. Don't they know he's waiting to hump them and jump on them? Bad dog.

The meatballs. I only ate one while making them. That might be the first time ever.

Load up the tray to set the table.

Simple, but so pretty.

We all have feet.

George might be pouting. He really has no idea that his life is perfect.

But the Squeekers get it.

I hope your days were merry and bright.

Smooches all my holiday hooches.

Lately

December 20th.

How is it that each and EVERY Christmas it sneaks up on me. December 1st was just two days ago yes? Poopy shitty.

We've been hosting quite a bit here at Chez Emerson. We had a small, but lovely, Thanksgiving where I managed to bring the meal to the table on time and in a tasty fashion. And this past Saturday we hosted The Pup Family Christmas at our house. I think about 38 people were milling around here.

The Pup Family Christmas usually is held at the church since there are so many of us, especially now since my family is involved and the young uns are pairing up and reproducing at an alarming rate. I'm kidding, there isn't anything alarming about it.

But having it at the church, in the church basement, was never much fun. We would congregate, (like that? I'm really good I know) eat, play the dice game, clean up, leave.

Pup's sister had it at her house a couple of years ago and it was sooooo much better. We decided when it was our turn we would chance it here.

Of course it had to fall on the weekend following my first week on the new job. By Wednesday, when I would come home full of funny stories, excitement about what I was learning, and simple exhaustion because learning is hard - and then fall into bed by 9:00 instead of planning, cleaning, organizing - I was getting a bit worried.

Oh hell, let's not lie. I was getting a big fretful.

No reason to fret.

I was more organized than I realized. I had written the menu and sent out assignments to all involved so by Saturday morning all I had to do was throw the turkey in the oven, put the honey baked in the crock and open some wine. I had implored Lorenzo to come early to help, but she and the BT came and just got to hang out with us and visit. And Lorenzo and I drank some coffee with Bailey's - mmmm!

It went off perfectly. Just how I wanted it. Instead of all of the families breaking into groups by family like we always did at the church, I found groups of people TALKING and LAUGHING. It was wonderful. I kinda wouldn't mind having it every year, but don't tell Pup.

This week we are hosting The Eve Eve (the kidlets and theirs come be with us alone) and Pup is pouting big time because I'm making my world famous spaghetti and meatballs á la Marlena - my momma. I've said before that I am a good cook, not a great cook, but I do have two areas where I am the best. In my head the best.

My meatballs are beyond good. I'm serious. Not like anything you've ever had. Don't argue with me and think, "Oh she hasn't had mine" because you'd be wrong.

Yes, I'm half kidding, but half NOT kidding. For real y'all.

So, my meatballs and then my gravy. I can make gravy. I can make you fall in love with gravy.

The rest that I can cook is good, but these two are superb. It's not bragging when it's the truth. Ha!

But Pup is pouting because he says that's not traditional and I said suck it Pup. I made turkey twice in two months. Enough with the turkey. He said I am vicious. Smooches my Pup - I'll make traditional on Christmas day.

Overheard

I went to the funeral of my dear friend's momma's yesterday. I have known my friend since I was around 16 so I have known her momma for that time as well. Many days and evenings were spent at her house and I always found her momma entertaining, lovely, funny, and stylish.

She was a wonderful woman and passed suddenly and unexpectedly. She was 86. When she was 83 she jumped out of an airplane. Yes, she was that woman. Don't you want to be her? Except now that I'm in my 50s, 86 just seems too young. I know that sounds ridiculous. :)

I am sitting in a pew and people watching, as I like to do, and I become aware of a conversation going on behind me. A man and a woman. They know each other, but haven't seen one another for a while from what I was hearing.

The family comes in and takes their places in the front. The man behind me whispers to the woman, "I have one word for _________ - Botox." (I'm not really certain who he was talking about, but I have a good idea.)

The woman giggled. Then the man said, "If you repeat that I will deny." The woman giggled again.

A few minutes later we stood during the singing of the closing hymn so I could turn a bit to see my whisperers. They were about 80 themselves! I had to choke down laughter. I kinda felt like Mary Richards from the Chuckles the Clown episode of The Mary Tyler Moore Show.

I kept it dignified like you know I am (ahem) and giggled to myself now and then the remainder of the day. Seriously put a cherry on the whole experience. And I think my friend's momma would have laughed as well.

Smooches my hooches.

What's on My Samsung

It just doesn't have the same ring does it?

I will never love it like I loved my Blackberry. It doesn't fit in my handbag phone slots. It gets all schmeary after I'm done yapping on it. It doesn't let me know when I have emails all the time. Ya. And I have emails from my new boss I need to get. Ya. Piece of . . .

:)

Hello emoticon - you old resource you.

The week though is something!

Supplements for Complients

Or something?

I take a lot of supplements.

sidebar - holla Vitacost.com!

But I have a hard time taking them. I forget. I procrastinate. I ignore. I gag.

Blech . . .

I want to take them. I have spent money on these bad boys. I have obviously decided I need these. I have millions - well at least dozens - of reasons to take these.

So why don't I?

What do y'all do to take your supplements. Tricks? Tips?

Right now I scoop them all out and plop them into a zipper baggy. Then I tuck it where I am. In my handbag, in my tote bag, on my desk, on the kitchen island, in the bathroom.

Some days I win. Some days they win.

Ideas needed!

When I've had to give pills to George (dog) I cover them with peanut butter. Hmm . . . I may be on to something.

An Ass Like an Apple

I saw one tonight. At the gym. On a guy. An older guy.

Pup pointed him out to me saying, "I don't know how old that guy is, but look at his physique. We need him to be our trainer."

I said, "Let's follow him and you can do everything he does." Pup laughed. But he did press some metal for a few sets. About 100 pounds? I dragged him over to the free weight section as well. We did some arm dips together.

Pup mostly likes to sit on the machines and rest.

I shook hands with that cable and handle thingy that sits in the corner of our gym. Actually, there are two of them. Of course I forget the name. I'll get it and report back.

It has cables and weights and you can customize it for all the upper body muscles you want to make cry.

I think I might be crying tomorrow when I try to lift my arms over my head. That will make me happy!

Manifesting

I quit my job at The Turnstyle. I have something new burbling for me and I am excited beyond belief. They say it isn't what you know, but who you know and I recently proved that it's a bit of both.

My Alli McBeal had recently gotten a sales job for a great company and we talked about a hole in their process that she thought I could fill. She encouraged me to write her boss a letter.

Which I did.

And he actually responded.

And asked me to lunch.

So I had a new assignment given to me by Ms. McBeal. Write a business plan (after several revisions and prodding from Alli McBeal it was perfection - yes it was!) for myself, revamp my resume, and sell myself like a sales pro.

Which I did.

And got hired as a consultant on a project to project basis.

I had to drink not one, but two Maker's Presbyterians after that meeting. I do believe I was walking on air for over a week. Wait - let me check my feet - yup - still not touching the floor. I see much shopping and outfit creation in my future.

These people have no idea what's in store for them. It's the best day of their lives as well.

I am manifesting success - was it effective? Whoooo ha!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Turnstyle is a privately owned company and has about 14 locations around The Cities. I visited a different one from the one I used to work at yesterday and had a fun hour or so finding some lovely things. Groupons were burning holes in my pockets!

I had a couple of questions about the items I was considering purchasing and the Little Woman manning the register said, "Oh you'll have to talk to the manager about that."

I said, "I'd love to. Could you get her for me?"

Little Woman replied, "She's right over there."

I looked where she was pointing and said, "May I speak to her?"

Little Woman said, "Oh, you'll have to get her." She then shot me a look. Not a nice look come to think of it.

I said, "Would you get her for me please?"

Another look. A huge sigh. A stomping off to get manager.

I stood there waiting for the manager to come to the register, thinking to myself - why is the customer treated like this in a retail store?

I don't know why exactly, but I was shocked. I had a pile of stuff I wanted to get, I had a question. Was I seriously expected to chase down the manager, not knowing her name, carrying all my items with me, to interrupt her with my questions - rather than have her come to me at the register and deal with my quick questions on the spot?

The manager was very nice, answered my questions, and I went ahead with part of my purchases.

Little Woman was visibly annoyed with me. She rang up my stuff and I handed her my Groupon. Another look was shot in my direction. Another huge sigh.

I wanted to reach over the counter and ring the damn sale myself.

She completed my sale. My pile of stuff on the counter.

"Could I have a bag please," I asked?

HUGE SIGH FROM HER LITTLE CHEST

I get retail burnout. I worked retail for 15 months and some of the customers were nightmares. I could very well have been her nightmare for the day. But I was so sad to be treated like that.

So - the point of this ramble is a question for y'all. When presented with stranger rudeness, how do you respond? Do you stand your ground? Acquiesce? Stay calm? Become a bitch?

I stood there looking at the Little Woman. I smiled at her. Thanked her. Picked up my (bagged) items and left the store. I'm certain she thought me a bitch nonetheless.

There is lots of shopping to do in the next couple of weeks. I will manifest pleasant.

Leave the Gun. Take the Cannoli.

I took the most ridiculous pictures yesterday. I don't even want to download them from my Nikon because they define WTH. I'd love to be all "arty-farty," but I'm more "holy-hell-what-is-that?" I am an elegant doofus. Yup. I should get me a t-shirt and make it official.

But the day was good! We had a very small group this year. Just Lorenzo and BT. Pup's wayward brother was coming, but chickened out at in the end. I felt bad because he either spent the day alone or in a bar. Either one is not good.

I made the smallest turkey I ever made. I think it was only 12 pounds. It looked like a big chicken. So, of course, I overcooked it a bit.

But that's what gravy is for! I made a roaster pan inches thick with that stuff. Oooooo, it was good. My momma taught me how to make gravy when I was pretty small. I think 10 or 11. I honed that talent while pregnant with Lorenzo. I had a pregnancy related craving for everything smothered in gravy so we ate it every night if memory serves.

I learned new things this Thanksgiving.

1. It's a big meal to make, even with a small group.
2. Riesling wine isn't always good. Paaaatooy I say.
3. Having a huge weight lifted from me is fantastic! I feel like me again. 
4. Cranberries from the can are delicious spread on a piece of turkey like jelly (smooch to my Shelley-Belly).
5. New and easier recipes are good (again, thanks to my Shelley-Belly).
6. The Godfather rocks.

Lorenzo and BT spent the first part of the day at his 'rentals (the Lorenzo way to say parents) and had a noon meal then came to our house for the evening meal. BT and Pup rolled into the Big Room to wait for Lorenzo and me to clear up in the kitchen a bit (we did not do dishes - yes they are still in the kitchen, right now, haunting me).

The Godfather was marathoning on AMC (I think) so we dragged out our copy after hearing that Lorenzo had never seen The Godfather. WTH??? How did I raise a child that has never seen The Godfather?

So we pulled the pit (couch) into a big square and the four of us lay in it to watch. Appropriate since Lorenzo and I were drinking Coppola wine. Nummy.

I think I was snoring before you could say "she sleeps with the fishes."


BTW - how beautiful was Al Pacino in this movie?

Never Bored

Are you that kind of person? The kind that is never bored?

I have to honestly say that I am never bored. I don't know what that says about me, good or bad. It has always seemed to me that if you truly are feeling bored, you are the responsible one for that. How can we expect others to constantly entertain us? Not that I don't get entertained by others, cuz I love being entertained!

I have had the flu for the past couple of days. Maybe more than a couple of days. They have kinda run into each other like they do when you're sick. I was shocked to come-to this morning and realize it is Sunday. What the hell? I lost at least three days somewhere in there.

But this morning, while my head is still stuffed and my brain a little less than, at least I do not feel feverish at all (not that I don't enjoy feeling a bit feverish - ha!) and maybe I can have a Sunday and get to a few things.

How do you cope with being sick? What do you wear?

For me, since I was literally a hot mess (at one point Pup remarked, "your arse is on fire!" - not meant in that oh my god so hot kind of way) and then a shivering mess, I chose to cozy up in the Big Room with a sheet and pillows on my part of the pit-couch, next to the fireplace, wearing my coziest sweatpants and camisole with a hoodie so the hoodie could come off and go on and come off and go on and come off and go on. You get the picture.

Sidebar: I just resisted, at least three times, inserting an emoticon. Some things really never change.

Yesterday morning I had dragged my feverish, hot arse down to the Big Room rather early, I think 5 a.m. or so, all the pets were in there with me hanging out, and it started raining. Then it began to sound like golf balls were bouncing off of the roof of the Big Room. So loud!

I ran to the back door to look out and discovered hail was falling - loudly and thickly.

I placed these two examples to show size. That watch has a very large face.

I haven't seen hail like that in years!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It feels like the start of the weekend to me peeps, but it isn't. I'll still say - get on it!

I'm going to find some mind-finding pharmaceuticals to help me and get on it as well.

Smooch - unless you're afraid of contagion.