I think I'm going to get fired from this Monday Memories gig and it's only my second week. Last week I wrote about memories that have yet to happen, and today I'm writing about one that should have happened.
I just finished watching the Screen Actor's Guild Awards, and while there is so much I loved about the night (I'm a sucker for everything about awards shows), my favorite part was at the very end. Two words. Pierce Brosnan.
I love him.
I don't have celebrity crushes. Really. But him, yeah...I think he's perfect. I love him. I think he looks like someone drew him. I think he's perfect (am I being redundant? Because if I'm not, let me mention how much I love him). If I could piece together what my ideal man would look like, he would be Pierce Brosnan. I think he would love me too. I think we would be perfect together. I find it a total travesty that neither of my children was fathered by him. Did anyone else see him tonight - how gorgeous he looked in his tux when he presented the award to Reese Witherspoon? As soon as I heard the announcer say his name, I got up and stood two feet from my television so I could get the best unobstructed close-up view of the man who should have been my husband. When Reese walked to the stage, she got to kiss him! And he sweetly put his hand on her arm, because in his perfection I'm sure he's just really sweet that way. But then when she was all done, she just walked right by him and left the stage. Is she nuts?! She had Pierce Brosnan right there!!
Sadly and sickly, this is where my made up memory comes in. Since people are always looking for memorable moments on awards show, I would have planted the biggest, sloppiest, open-mouthed kiss on him and acted like it was no big deal at all - it's all in the name of art! It would be played year after year on SAG highlight shows, each time with him looking on, regretful that he married that trampy environmentalist with too many names (who by the way, I hear has a horrible facial twitch and poor oral hygiene). Following the show he would probably dial my number several times a day, hanging up after losing his nerve, knowing that he had let his soulmate slip through his fingers. A man in true anguish.
Pierce, if you're reading this (and I'm sure you are)...it's never too late for true love! Sure I might play hard to get for like an hour and a half, because a girl's got to have her pride, but remember..."you're my density!"
Monday, January 30, 2006
Monday, January 23, 2006
Monday Memories...1.23.06
I joined the Monday Memories Club, which was started on a great website, that I would link you to if I could think clearly enough to link right now (I will do that shortly, I promise). Although Monday only has about an hour left, and I am exhausted, I wanted to get this down while I had it in my head. I came across the concept of Monday Memories and fell in love with it. What better way to honor the incredible people in my life, and my experiences. I've been so tired though lately, and hung up on a little silly graphic that I let Monday almost come and go without writing this post (Yes, I'm that anal that a little graphic can hang me up for that long).
Although I'm not writing about the memory that I originally intended, and it's a little early to be adding a twist to this new concept of Monday Memories, it is what is on my mind right now.
Today is my youngest daughter's 11th birthday. As some of you know, I wake my daughters up each year at exactly the time they were born, crawl into bed with them and re-tell the story of the day they were born. I usually end up getting very emotional about it every year! They used to love it, then they made fun of me for it, now they expect it and once again love it. So this morning, my 14 year old and I went into the little one's bedroom, laid down on either side of her and started her special day with stories of how glad we were that she entered the world, and our lives. Friday her dad and I took her snowboarding for her birthday, so today was pretty low-key. She went to school, I picked her up and brought her to my office (which she loves), let her choose the restaurant for dinner, picked up her best friend and then came home to open gifts (I only let my girls have a party every other year and this was an off year). She loved her presents and kissed me goodnight saying what a great day she had.
Even though it was a great day, that is not the focus of this Monday Memory. When my girls went to bed, I took a long bath in my new bathtub, then went downstairs to turn off the lights. I passed my girls rooms where I knew they were sound asleep and missed the days of when I could crawl into bed with them and sleep all night, listening to them breathing. I stopped doing that because I became too obsessed with the perfect night's sleep. I walked down my beautiful hand built wooden stairs, past the little black cat, the incorrigible puppy in her crate, and the brand new little Betta fish named Bono, and went in the kitchen to turn off the lights. While I was walking down the stairs, looking down into my living room and my new house, I flashed back to earlier in the night when we were in that very room with my daughter while she opened her presents. I thought about tonight and I thought about the future. I wondered what kind of memories I will have in this new house, as there will undoubtedly be more than I can imagine. Every Christmas yet to come, every Prom night, every birthday just like today. I wonder how many happy years we'll spend in this house, because although I bought this house intending to stay here forever, one never really knows. I wonder if this will be the house where my daughters' fondest memories will originate. I wonder if my daughters will feel relieved when they walk through the door after a brutal semester at college. I wonder if I've created enough traditions and memories to sustain them when they feel far away from home.
Our memories, for as long as we can remember, have been of just the three of us. Their dad and I have been apart for so long that neither one of them, or even I for that matter, can remember back to when we were together. So it's always been just us, and we've always been thankful for each other. Sometimes I worry about what memories they're missing because of that; if they will remember our family as being "incomplete." I don't think so, though. I think we've done alright for ourselves. And 20 Christmases from now, I think we'll look back, not on what was missing during these years together, but of the incredible love that we have for one another, the gratitude we now feel for finally having our "own space," and the incredible memories of birthdays just like today.
Although I'm not writing about the memory that I originally intended, and it's a little early to be adding a twist to this new concept of Monday Memories, it is what is on my mind right now.
Today is my youngest daughter's 11th birthday. As some of you know, I wake my daughters up each year at exactly the time they were born, crawl into bed with them and re-tell the story of the day they were born. I usually end up getting very emotional about it every year! They used to love it, then they made fun of me for it, now they expect it and once again love it. So this morning, my 14 year old and I went into the little one's bedroom, laid down on either side of her and started her special day with stories of how glad we were that she entered the world, and our lives. Friday her dad and I took her snowboarding for her birthday, so today was pretty low-key. She went to school, I picked her up and brought her to my office (which she loves), let her choose the restaurant for dinner, picked up her best friend and then came home to open gifts (I only let my girls have a party every other year and this was an off year). She loved her presents and kissed me goodnight saying what a great day she had.
Even though it was a great day, that is not the focus of this Monday Memory. When my girls went to bed, I took a long bath in my new bathtub, then went downstairs to turn off the lights. I passed my girls rooms where I knew they were sound asleep and missed the days of when I could crawl into bed with them and sleep all night, listening to them breathing. I stopped doing that because I became too obsessed with the perfect night's sleep. I walked down my beautiful hand built wooden stairs, past the little black cat, the incorrigible puppy in her crate, and the brand new little Betta fish named Bono, and went in the kitchen to turn off the lights. While I was walking down the stairs, looking down into my living room and my new house, I flashed back to earlier in the night when we were in that very room with my daughter while she opened her presents. I thought about tonight and I thought about the future. I wondered what kind of memories I will have in this new house, as there will undoubtedly be more than I can imagine. Every Christmas yet to come, every Prom night, every birthday just like today. I wonder how many happy years we'll spend in this house, because although I bought this house intending to stay here forever, one never really knows. I wonder if this will be the house where my daughters' fondest memories will originate. I wonder if my daughters will feel relieved when they walk through the door after a brutal semester at college. I wonder if I've created enough traditions and memories to sustain them when they feel far away from home.
Our memories, for as long as we can remember, have been of just the three of us. Their dad and I have been apart for so long that neither one of them, or even I for that matter, can remember back to when we were together. So it's always been just us, and we've always been thankful for each other. Sometimes I worry about what memories they're missing because of that; if they will remember our family as being "incomplete." I don't think so, though. I think we've done alright for ourselves. And 20 Christmases from now, I think we'll look back, not on what was missing during these years together, but of the incredible love that we have for one another, the gratitude we now feel for finally having our "own space," and the incredible memories of birthdays just like today.
Monday, January 16, 2006
Whoo-Hoo!! I LOVE her!!!
Check me out...I'm Katherine Hepburn.
I got this off of Jenni's site...
Katharine Hepburn
You scored 26% grit, 14% wit, 57% flair, and 21% class!
"You are the fabulously quirky and independent woman of character. You go your own way, follow your own drummer, take your own lead. You stand head and shoulders next to your partner, but you are perfectly willing and able to stand alone. Others might be more classically beautiful or conventionally woman-like, but you possess a more fundamental common sense and off-kilter charm, making interesting men fall at your feet. You can pick them up or leave them there as you see fit. You share the screen with the likes of Spencer Tracy and Cary Grant, thinking men who like strong women."
And of course this test is completely accurate! So many interesting men fall at my feet that it can sometimes get embarrassing. If you look at my percentages of different personality traits, I'm a bit of a mutt, but I just like to think of myself as 'well-rounded.'
I got this off of Jenni's site...
You scored 26% grit, 14% wit, 57% flair, and 21% class!
And of course this test is completely accurate! So many interesting men fall at my feet that it can sometimes get embarrassing. If you look at my percentages of different personality traits, I'm a bit of a mutt, but I just like to think of myself as 'well-rounded.'
Monday, January 09, 2006
To Preparation H or not to Preparation H...Now THAT is the question...
I don't think Shakespeare would mind me borrowing his line for such an important topic, do you?
So I'm in Target yesterday and as I'm walking past an aisle in the Health & Beauty section, the Preparation H catches my eye. A little background on this should be that I'm turning 40 this year. Yes the big 4-0. I cannot tell you how much I'm hating it. I feel old. I'm getting wrinkles I never had before. I have under eye puffiness. Which brings me back to the Preparation H story. Ladies, you all know what I'm talking about, but does it work? That was my big dilemma while standing in the Health & Beauty section of Target yesterday. Well, that and having to explain to my 10 year old what one would usually use Preparation H for. For years it's been rumored that this stuff gets rid of bags under your eyes but I've never known anyone who actually tried it. I Googled it and got conflicting opinions. The makers of Preparation H say it doesn't work for this problem, but what are they going to say when thousands of women go blind from putting ass cream too close to their eyes and they have lawsuits on their hands? They have to make some disclaimer. I'm convinced that if it does work, they're keeping it quiet and marketing the exact same formula at Bloomingdale's for $75 an ounce. Being the pioneer that I am, YES I bought the Preparation H and am willing to share all of my under eye puffiness research. I even bought the colorless, odorless, soothing gel formula for maximum comfort. I'll keep you posted.
My results so far...
Day 1 - Nothing. I put it on three times in a two hour period last night and so far nothing. Woke up this morning with puffy eyes.
But I'm not giving up! What kind of a pioneer would I be? Where would the hundreds of thousands of women who currently read my blog (alright, maybe not hundreds of thousands) turn for this vital information if I give up now? Don't worry, ladies. I commit to putting ass cream on my face for at least two weeks and will keep you posted at the first sign of success.
So I'm in Target yesterday and as I'm walking past an aisle in the Health & Beauty section, the Preparation H catches my eye. A little background on this should be that I'm turning 40 this year. Yes the big 4-0. I cannot tell you how much I'm hating it. I feel old. I'm getting wrinkles I never had before. I have under eye puffiness. Which brings me back to the Preparation H story. Ladies, you all know what I'm talking about, but does it work? That was my big dilemma while standing in the Health & Beauty section of Target yesterday. Well, that and having to explain to my 10 year old what one would usually use Preparation H for. For years it's been rumored that this stuff gets rid of bags under your eyes but I've never known anyone who actually tried it. I Googled it and got conflicting opinions. The makers of Preparation H say it doesn't work for this problem, but what are they going to say when thousands of women go blind from putting ass cream too close to their eyes and they have lawsuits on their hands? They have to make some disclaimer. I'm convinced that if it does work, they're keeping it quiet and marketing the exact same formula at Bloomingdale's for $75 an ounce. Being the pioneer that I am, YES I bought the Preparation H and am willing to share all of my under eye puffiness research. I even bought the colorless, odorless, soothing gel formula for maximum comfort. I'll keep you posted.
My results so far...
Day 1 - Nothing. I put it on three times in a two hour period last night and so far nothing. Woke up this morning with puffy eyes.
But I'm not giving up! What kind of a pioneer would I be? Where would the hundreds of thousands of women who currently read my blog (alright, maybe not hundreds of thousands) turn for this vital information if I give up now? Don't worry, ladies. I commit to putting ass cream on my face for at least two weeks and will keep you posted at the first sign of success.
Wednesday, January 04, 2006
Weirdness
A little bit ago, Danika wrote a wierdlist where she had to name five weird things about herself. As I was reading it, I thought..."Wow, there are so many weird things about me, I could never narrow it down to five." So here's just one. Kind of weird, but really just twisted. And I have shamelessly taught my little girl (the 10 year-old) the twistedness of my personality, and now she is also just as twisted.
My older daughter is 14 and, although she IS a teenager, she's a bit of a goody-goody (well at least in this stage of my denial, I'm insisting that she is). If the story weren't somewhat implausible it wouldn't be funny. Anyway, the other night she asked if she could walk to Starbuck's with her friends, one particular friend named Michael who she is sort of digging right now. While she was gone, my little girl and I ran some errands, a couple of which were in the same shopping center as Starbuck's. We took a verrryyy slow drive past Starbuck's to see if we could spy on her a bit, like maybe they were sitting outside at a table? You never know. No luck. They must have been inside because we couldn't see them anywhere. The conversation that followed went like this...keep in mind that this conversation came out of our mouths without even thinking twice and neither one of us even cracked a smile. Sadly, this is the weirdness that just comes naturally to us...
Me: I don't see her. Do you see her?
J: Nope. (pause) She's probably inside making out with Michael.
Me: Yeah. Between bong hits.
J. Yeah.
My older daughter is 14 and, although she IS a teenager, she's a bit of a goody-goody (well at least in this stage of my denial, I'm insisting that she is). If the story weren't somewhat implausible it wouldn't be funny. Anyway, the other night she asked if she could walk to Starbuck's with her friends, one particular friend named Michael who she is sort of digging right now. While she was gone, my little girl and I ran some errands, a couple of which were in the same shopping center as Starbuck's. We took a verrryyy slow drive past Starbuck's to see if we could spy on her a bit, like maybe they were sitting outside at a table? You never know. No luck. They must have been inside because we couldn't see them anywhere. The conversation that followed went like this...keep in mind that this conversation came out of our mouths without even thinking twice and neither one of us even cracked a smile. Sadly, this is the weirdness that just comes naturally to us...
Me: I don't see her. Do you see her?
J: Nope. (pause) She's probably inside making out with Michael.
Me: Yeah. Between bong hits.
J. Yeah.
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