Being a family of women who are not known for our love of shopping, Jana and I try to do little things along the way to entertain ourselves.
As we were walking through Century 21 (the discount store, not the realtor for those who were confused last week), we came across a rack of fur jackets and dresses. As I was snapping away, my dear, sweet, thoughtful daughter uttered the words every blog mother dreams of, “Do you want me to try this on so you can get a shot of it?”
Being the coy blogger and considerate mother that I am, I asked, “Do you mind if I do a post on this?” Her response? “When I offer to do something like this it is understood that you want to blog about it.”
Damn I love that kid.
We have always held to the idea that women are slaves to fashion and will wear just about anything that the fashion gods tell them is chic. This dress was no exception, until Jana tried it on. She said, “Hey, I get why people would want to wear this. It is soft and warm.”
This style has a certain prehistoric charm to it, don’t you think?
This past weekend I had the pleasure of joining my dear friends at their wedding. This being a second marriage for both of them, it was a very different celebration.
The room was filled with friends and family, as most weddings are. But the difference in this room was that many of us have shared our lives for the past 20 some odd years. We have raised children, grieved parents, nursed each other when sick, celebrated joys and held each other up in sorrow. The love in that room was almost overwhelming.
We are a community. In the true sense of the word. There was a moment on the dance floor when all our close friends were dancing in a circle around this couple. I looked around at the faces of my friends and thought, this is one of those moments. The ones we remember for a lifetime. A very moving moment indeed.
These two people in the center of this celebration were joined together as a mature couple (ok, grown-ups might be a better word, we are all a little adolescent in our behavior). As the groom stated so eloquently in his vows, he felt so very lucky to be marrying his best friend. With that foundation they are sure to live a happy life together.
Sometimes you get it right. They surely have.
And hey, when else have we ever done the Horah to Satisfaction? Great party for a great couple.
With all the love in my heart – and flashbacks of a scarier time in your lives that have bound us eternally – I wish my dear friends much health and happiness. Love you guys.
Ok, I will admit this upfront. I was going to title this post ‘No evidence of a penis on this man’ but I was truly fearful of what sort of traffic I would get from that. And the whole gender stereotype thing does rub me the wrong way – although by the way he is dressed it is obvious this dog was not his idea. And I am thinking the shoe shopping wasn’t either. He looks more like a Home Depot sort of guy to me.
Maybe I should have titled this, ‘Shopping is not a canine activity’, because that is what really irks me. I could go on about the upswing in people bringing there little pampered pooches out to shopping and dinner excursions, dressing them up in little clothes and putting them in strollers, for G-d’s sake. I hear this is an epidemic in South Florida. The last time I was there I saw a yorkie in an Ed Hardy hoodie… that is just not ok. (but a lovely outfit to shop for shoes in Bloomies, I suppose) What is up with this behavior?
This is the second time this year that I have seen a man in the women’s shoe dept of Bloomingdales with one of these little dogs.
Just guessing when this guy first started dating this woman this was not his idea of a night out.
Sometimes you have the good fortune of seeing a legend one more time. At 72 Dr. John still rocked the house with his own special brand of New Orleans magic.
We raised our kids on songs like this and to add to the magic we them both with us. And we had dear friends came too.
AND there was a rainbow on the way there.
Can’t ask for much more than that on a Thursday night.
Ok, maybe he could have played a little Iko Iko. Here’s an amazing all-star version. (and the headdress is to die for!)
That would not be fashion nazi. I am a fashioNOTsa.
Or why I suck at shopping.
I know, I am a Jewish girl from Long Island and therefore it is expected that I love to shop. But I don’t. I hate it AND I suck at it. Perhaps I should explore my true lineage.
But sometimes you just need stuff. So after a lovely meeting this morning and a surprise lunch with Gary (because I was on the 59th Street bridge and had to pee so badly I had to stop at his office), seeing that I had no deadlines tomorrow, I ventured out into the consumer jungle.
Did I mention I hate this worse than going to the dentist? At least there I can get sweet air. These are the 5 reasons why:
The woman in the next dressing room at Lord & Taylor spent a solid 15 minutes on the phone with one of her son’s teachers and for the life of me I could not imagine how she kept trying on clothes without ever shutting up. All I can surmise was that her son is screwed from her micromanagement and someone should tell her that talking on the phone and trying on clothing does not constitute multi-tasking.
I need to see the dermatologist as soon as humanly possible because the lighting in every dressing room made me see that I must have no less than 5 horrible derm conditions. Fluorescent lighting and dressing rooms: who is responsible?
There are no circumstances in which a 3 way mirror is OK.
Clothes on. Clothes off. Repeat. How can this be fun? Well, I know how but this is the wrong context.
I always have to pee and the bathrooms are always in a different zip code than the women’s clothing. Why is that?
The only funny part of today was the cashier at Century 21. She had a very heavy accent and as she checked me out this was our conversation:
She: Your zin cone?
Me: (no idea what that means) Um, no thanks (afraid to agree to anything in fear it might be hard to undo).
She: No, no, no… your zin cone?!
Me: Sorry, not getting what that is.
She: Zin cone. Zin cone. Zin cone! (as if saying it 3 times will make me understand)
Me:(starting to get the giggles and wishing I had a witness) I am so sorry but I have NO idea what you are saying. Maybe you want to write it down.
She: Zin cone. You know… town. 1-1-something-something-something (she loves to repeat herself).
Me: OH! YOU MEAN ZIP CODE.
At this point I simply looked around for the camera and then split.
Life is hard. Whoever forgot to tell us that when we were young… thanks a lot.
I try to make it a point to remind my kids that feeling like crap gives happiness context. I am sure I have written that here before.
Someone once told me that it is good to laugh and cry at least once every day.
They might have been bi-polar so I try to adhere to that loosely. But I agree. I love to laugh. There are days when I have the expectation of misery and something will make me laugh so hard I cannot breathe. And there are times when out of nowhere I can here a song, smell something, see something… and burst into tears with a memory.
Yeh, so no I am NOT bi-polar. But I am a good crier. And a GREAT laugher.
The key is to find the right balance between the two.
There are days when everything is funny. These are the days I live for. It could be the people that I know, the fact that they are also Magnets for The Absurd, or perhaps the universe has sympathy on us poor working slobs on a rainy Monday morning. But this. THIS. This one made me laugh so hard.
To the point of tears.
Which, btw, is the tagline for this blog.
So here goes. A big thank you to Wendy for posting this one.
It would seem that Bart Jansen’s poor kitty was killed by a car. So what did he do? Did he spend his days sobbing. Oh no, no, no. In the spirit of turning lemons into lemonade he turned his kitty into a kittycopter!
Um, yes, folks, good old Bart stuffed his deceased feline and converted Orville into a radio-controlled copter. When you think of it, why bury, cremate or toss a perfectly good dead cat when you can fly it around your yard for hours of entertainment? And then post it on YouTube so the whole world could enjoy your pet. I like to think of this as extending the pet value. This has the flavor of a good B. Kliban drawing. (please click that link and note the url for a little more kitty humor).
Is this disrespectful to the pet or the ultimate tribute?
Can you imagine the conversation at the taxidermist’s shop? You want him in WHAT position? Might I ask why? Oh, a kittycopter… that’s a cool idea. I would think that taxidermists are not all that easily shocked; they must have the most disturbing requests. Hmmm… maybe I should start a taxidermist blog and interview them all over the country. Sorry, I digress.
Of course there is video. When I clicked to watch there were only 301 hits. I predict this sucker breaks 100,000 in no time. I am sure I will be good for at least 50 myself. And if you are wondering, yes, I did watch the full 3:34 of this. The landing was the best part outside of his adjusting the little copter propellors.
Oriville the kitty? I heard his dog Wilbur has been crossing the street very carefully in fear of becoming the next victim of radio-controlled absurdity.
No lie. This baby was lying at the curb down the block from my house today. If you are a regular reader, you know I have an affection for things left at the curb. I am not sure if my neighborhood is simply ripe with refuse, or if all neighborhoods are like this but people just don’t notice. Or they notice but don’t document. My garbage posting has gotten to a point where I am thinking of starting a garbage blog. Thoughts?
So this item was found outside a house that has new residents. The previous homeowners predate my family and we have been here 24 years (how can that be, this was my starter house). I am thinking that I am falling in love with these new neighbors before I have even met them.
If you are having trouble making out what this is, it would be a very large metal sculpture of a giraffe; one that looks as if it was hit by a car. This sucker was huge. I would say certainly the size of an actual baby giraffe. Here is a shot of just the face. I simply love the eyelash detail.
So, my dear readers, I put this question out to you, was this an item that the new owners found in the house, or was this something they moved with and then decided they no longer wanted? Or perhaps they had all intentions of using it as a lawn ornament but the movers destroyed it. It’s been a while since we took a poll, so let’s put it out there. All you lurkers who don’t like to comment, go ahead and vote, it’s anonymous.
So, I see this posted on Facebook today and seeing that we are big Zombie fans in this house I sent it to my business partner. Because, you know, we were insanely busy today with too many deadlines and I wanted my projects to get out first and make her look bad to lighten things up a bit and make her laugh. I just thought this was funny until she clued me on on the horrific story in the news about the guy in Miami found naked and chewing another guys face. (How did I miss this story? Shame on me!) Apparently he was high on bath salts, the latest designer drug of choice… for zombie types, I suppose. This is simply too crazy to fathom.
Of course I posted this on my wall because it was just too insane and then I received a post on my timeline from an old friend about this lunatic in New Jersey (is that redundant?) who stabbed himself and then threw his skin and intestines at the cops trying to help him from self harm.
W.
T.
H.
People, I am convinced that we should all consider a quick refresher course on zombie preparedness ASAP.