Song writing contest with a lyricist, results:

1.)Unplug the T V turn off the phone (on air, can anyone guess who?)

2.)The night brings smiles to my face – it helps to bring me to my place…

3.) three minute miracle, my life changed the day I saw her…

4.) I looked in your  mirror to see if I was there, a moment of reflection… 

5.)intoxicating blue eyes, drowning in them, suffocating with them…

Winner? TBD.

Oh glorious red eye — here we come! The northeast just got pounded with snow, but I am optimistic that our flight will leave on time tonight. On the off chance that I actually sleep, visions of Dunkin crullers are sure to dance in my head. Screw sugar-plums. They are for wimps. 

Happy Holidays! 

Music is amazing. There are some songs that can get you through anything, no matter how down you are. 

Little darling, I feel that ice is slowly melting 
Little darling, it seems like years since it’s been clear 
Here comes the sun, here comes the sun, 
and I say it’s all right 
It’s all right

The night before we left for Denver, the sky turned a brilliant shade of orange. 

In an effort to pack, I walked around my apartment aimlessly realizing that “fashion forward” and “warm” do not necessarily coincide when you are piecing together winter outfits. I was looking forward to…no…I was craving a change of scenery. I couldn’t wait to say goodbye to the surroundings of my life and to be distracted for two full days. There was only one thing in my LA world that made me want to stay. 

I had never been to Denver and I realize now that I have missed out. The city is cute and the surroundings are beautiful. In a warmer season I would have loved to venture into the Rockies and embrace mother nature in a noncamping, nonhiking sort of way.

As the sun set, we walked around downtown trying to absorb some of the Christmas spirit that seemed to be floating through the air. 

Eventually we made it back to the hotel and took a requisite nap before  heading to dinner at The Palm, a steakhouse restaurant. While waiting for our dinner companions to arrive we nestled in at the bar and took part in a wonderful session of liquid therapy. Suddenly the bar-side chatter came to a stop as Wendy brought out a 13 pound lobster for our viewing pleasure. We will call him Larry for the purpose of this blog entry. 

Everyone ooo’ed and awe’ed and I was slightly impressed until I heard a passerby mention that Larry must be at least a hundred years old. Now, I am not a marine life expert so I cannot confirm the age speculation, but it was at this point that I became absolutely horrified. Poor Larry spent his long life at the bottom of the ocean, living happily among the crustaceans until some profiteering fisherperson came by and plucked him out of his happy home. The poor guy makes it to 100 and this is how it all ends – becoming a sideshow freak at a steakhouse in Denver. 

If we had been in a coastal city I would have been tempted to pay whatever exorbitant price required to free Larry and put him back into the sea. Maybe there he could have reunited with Lola, his 12 pound lobster wife (or so I like to think). 

The experience made me flash back to a night when my mother brought home lobsters for dinner. I was probably six years old at the time. My brother and I spent the evening filling the sink with temperate salt water to make our little pets comfortable, only to be saddened when they inevitably found their way into the boiling pot of water on the stove. At the time, I was consoled by the promise that a headfirst dunking results in an instant kill. Now I know better. 

I am not a vegetarian, but I do think that every life form is precious. A belief that I often try to forget as I gnaw on a chicken skewer or bite into a medium-well done filet. 

Current relatable lyric (not song):

And so it is. Just like you said it would be. Life goes easy on me. Most of the time. And so it is. 

-Damien Rice

My mother was just out for a visit and she was reminiscing about the illegal-immigrant crossing signs on the way to San Diego. If you haven’t seen them before, I suggest you make the drive because they are certainly one of a kind. 

Tonight I was scrolling through my pics and saw that I have a couple strange ones of my own from recent travels. I found a shot of the evil child pincher/torture device in Paris… 

and one of the killer bipolar horses in Mexico. 

Sometimes I think I am in the wrong profession. I wonder whose job it is to come up with these visual gems, and how I can join the industry. Who knows, maybe some day I will be drawing pictures of “no lifeguard on duty” swimming pools with shards of glass on the bottom and string rays circling the sides. At the very least, it is something to consider.

Lately I have found myself overwhelmingly caught up in the responsible decisions of life. How much could we sell our apartment for? If it sells, where should we live? Do we move back to the east coast or stay where the palm trees grow? 

When this happens my head starts to spin, it gets harder to breathe and my usual fun-loving self is cast very far away. 

Sometimes my hubbie and I will light candles, play Norah Jones and slow dance in our living room. As we turn in circles, my dog trails us from the side, his tail wagging the whole time. We no longer remember the waltz steps that we debut on our wedding night, but we are in synch. 

I don’t know where we will end up in life, but I do know that if we get there together we will be ok. Tonight I was finally able to cast worry aside. I realized that it is not the location of the living room that will make me happy, it is the person that is twirling me around it. 

On that note, is there a prettier song than this? 

After a major hiatus I have decided to keep this blog. I went through an internal debate about blogging and putting information/pics on the WWW, and then concluded that it is a growing trend (in fact, one that 12 percent of people partake in) and one that I should not abandon. Plus, it is an easy (albeit impersonal) way to keep people up-to-date on the comings and goings of my life.

On that note, am I the only one with major election fatigue? I was very much into politics back in the primary days, but wow…this one has dragged on. I will be cheering for the winner tomorrow, assuming my prediction is right, but I will also be silently thanking all that is holy for ending this election. Also, if I see one more “vote yes on Prop 8″ commercial, I may throw up. Fingers and toes are crossed that equality for all wins out and California votes no. 

Anyway – family and friends that have inquired, yes, the blog is back and I will start updating more often.

My poor… forgotten… blog. I know, it has been forever. 

Last weekend was the Vegas extravaganza. The trip did not start off as planned. Our flight was canceled so we spent the next two hours lugging my bagzilla from terminal to terminal in a desperate search for a replacement flight. I have never been the person in the ticket purchasing line and hope to never be again. It was eye opening how many people are stuck making day of arrangements. Even more eye opening was the high percentage of people who, even though they are likely in a time crunch, also find time to argue with the booking agent about the bag check fees. Since we were on a tour de terminal that day, I can confirm that this is a constant phenomenon. I can also assure you that there is no need to argue about the fees. I saw many a manager called to the front that day. Not one budged.

Three hours later when the layer of sweat was finally dry, we boarded the plane. After an uneventful trip, minus a brief moment of extreme motion sickness as we approached McCarren International in a bumpy descent, we had arrived. 

We rushed to the hotel and met my brother and his beautiful girlfriend at the Palms Place pool for some cabana time. Cabana time quickly turned into bucket ‘o beer time. 

One too many bucket ‘o beers caused a member of our group to miss Tao that night. Another member of the group potentially should have stayed in and slept it off. The weekend was off to a good start. 

Surprisingly we were up bright and early the next day. We brunched, we explored the strip and we even spent some time admiring the lanterns at Wynn. 

At night, our balcony served as a perfect photo shoot locale. That is my brother in the white. For those that know me, you may agree that he looks more like his girlfriend than me. No, they are not related. 

Then we were off to dinner and Moon/Playboy Club. Hmmm…looking at the pic below I am realizing that I may look a little bit like Nick. Kind of weird.

Vegas was H-O-TT (pronounced: H, O, double T) that weekend so we logged countless hours by the Palms pool. I will never forget the miserable look on my brother’s face as he sprayed aerosoled SPF 30 on himself in vain. I couldn’t help but to laugh…my *ss off. He did redeem himself however, when he bought two plastic bikini girl cup drinks and rocked them in the pool. I was proud.

Between all the adventures we snuck in some time for paid entertainment, of the classy kind. We saw the Mac King Comedy Show one day and it easily trumped our tempered expectations. It was entertaining, funny and incorporated a fake bear (you have to see it to understand). We also saw the O Cirque du Soleil show at the Bellagio. Described in one word: AMAZING. It is expensive, but well worth it. 

For our last night we met up with LA friends at Tryst nightclub. I have pictures from that night, but most people probably wouldn’t approve the postings so they will remain in the secret vault. You know what they say, “what happens in Vegas…” It was the perfect ending to a fantastic trip.

I love seeing my family no matter where we are, but there is something to be said about meeting in Vegas!

Whirlpool model LXR9445JQ1 dies at 5 years old.

Beloved laundry unit known as “Sudsy” kicked the bucket last Wednesday night in a traumatic overloading incident. Owners tried to resuscitate Suds but efforts were met with a sharp screeching noise and a failure to drain. As a final insult, the machine formally rejected its lose knob and refused to let it be reattached. At that point, there were no arrows to lead the way between spin, rinse and delicates. It was time to let go. 

A memorial service will be held on Tuesday, September 23, prior to the arrival of Ken, the Kenmore. In lieu of donations, please send owners Nick and Marcy formal regrets for having to spend their hard earned cash on a large appliance, instead of a mini-vacation.