Today my heart skipped a beat. It has been a long time since something has taken my breath away with such grace. As I crossed the street to drop off the dry cleaning, there it was. Behold, glistening in the crisp sunlight was a 1963 beige Rolls-Royce Silver Cloud III. I couldn't hide my admiration and awe. I stopped dead in my tracks as my eyes followed the sultry curves over and over again. Hopefully the driver did not get the wrong impression. Even if he did, child on hip would have cleared things up right away.

I was dazed while speaking with the dry cleaners, glancing over my shoulder not to let it escape. I was crawling out of my skin with desire to photograph this angelic machine and oh the angles I could use! If-only-someone-could-hold-him, here: take-my-diaper-bag, let-me-get-the=camer.. oh It's gone. It rolled away with such class there was a red carpet lined with diamonds and the faint aroma of rich tobacco from a mahogany pipe lingering behind. Because mahogany pipes totally exist in your world if you drop off your dry cleaning in a Rolls-Royce.

I always wanted to own a 1974 Dodge Dart and refinish it to perfection. It would be parked next to my 1962 white, hard top Impala (red interior). These cars, in comparison, are nothing to me now. Do you think The Mister will have a problem if I change the 529 plan to RR funding?


Open Letter

Dear Ben Gibbard,

Last week's concert at Hammerstein was supreme. The Mezz 2 proved to be a great seat to watch the whole band intertwine their chords and beats. Your voice rang through the ballroom enchantingly. The occasional flashy lighting enhanced the massive bass as it projected the long arm onto the screen behind you. You don't know that because you were performing. But let me assure you that it was a great effect. For an indie rock concert, anyway.

While I was pleased with the performance, Ben, I have to admit I was rather disappointed with the song line-up. These are the songs you should play on your next tour, regardless of what you release between now and then:

1) ALL songs on We Have the Facts and We're Voting Yes
2) Some songs on Something About Airplanes
3) Some songs from the latest 2 albums
4) After the encore, bring out your Other Band and play all songs from Give Up. Twice.
5) Double time all songs not on We Have the Facts and that will help fit my recommended songs into your allotted time.
6) Don't bother having an opening band. This is another way you will have more time.

Also, I think it would be beneficial for you to practice some new moves. Your dancing behind the guitar sort of looked like you were trying to take a dump behind a bush, what with your legs spread so far apart/ knees bent/ feet tapping to and fro. Perhaps you could spend some time with Nelly or R. Kelly, they could help you out. Is it getting hot in here?


Your 965th biggest fan



Here is my sister's 3rd beautiful baby: Carter Paul. He was born at 12:31 NY time while I cleaned up Zane's high chair from lunch. He weighs 6 lbs 13 oz. and is 20 inches long.

We adore him and can't wait to meet him.

*picture courtesy of The Daddy, Rob.

Carter USM (uncooperative silly man)

Carter, my nephew, is well on his way.

As we speak his mommy's working hard to get him into this world.
Go Lisa, go!


under a shady tree, you and me

My hands are tired from cracking skulls to get this massive, fallen tree trunk off of our home.
While it looks like your average fallen tree branch from a distance one would drag away like a wet mop, it is not. Notice the height of this Bessy: well above the roof. Take note of the thickness of the main branch: that of a solid, human thigh.



The Curse of the Pro-Wings

So I used to have this foolproof theory that you could tell a lot about a person by the kind of shoes he/ she would sport. I drove myself insane looking for the perfect shoes to follow my theory, even if it meant the perfect pair didn’t come in my size. Of course you have your traditional slip-on sandal or flip flops in the mix, but this post is about the Leading Shoe in the closet. The One. The pair you would wear to the concert to get digits.

It all began with my first pair of Vans. I think I was in 7th grade. They were black and white stone-washed pattern. Of course, I had to work on fitting the bill over time as I had few skater shirts when I scored these kicks. These were followed by a pair of black corduroy Vans with tan piping. I think these would officially be 1st place in my shoe Hall of Fame.

As I approached High School I got a little confused and busted out white Nikes- what was I thinking?! Just because I ran track and cross country did not mean I was a Nike kind of girl. With some positive peer influence getting me back on track, I was back into the saddle again with a pair of flannel plaid girl Vans. These were quickly replaced by blue Vans as soon as Pearl Jam hit mainstream radio.

I admit I was soon found wearing brown 6-hole Doc Martins, only to be spray-painted silver within a month. I thought I was so punk rock.

Then came the Converse One-Star fetish my Junior/ Senior year. The great thing about these was that they were slimming of the foot and looked great with long dresses! Sadly, my green pair found new owners when my small friend, Bruce, borrowed them Halloween night to dress up as a girl. I think I saw him at the State Fair several years later. With another guy. They might have both been wearing dresses.

Ah, Etnies. They were electric blue and welcomed me into college and saw many a good times. These were a great conversation piece as they were quite rare. One coworker at Tower Records asked me about them. I offered they were 2 sizes too big, but they were the last pair and I HAD to have them. He snickered as he said, “Yeah, we all wondered about the new girl with such big feet”.

Two-Toned Wingtips. These babies were my most prized possession and ordered from a magazine out of New York. Ska shows were the nightlife that made life worth living at the time. Skater Chick by day, Rude Girl by night. These pushed the baby blue Pumas to the back of the closet for a long, long time. After they were broken-in and well scuffed I went to a concert with this guy “Mike” and saw about 15 girls with the exact same shoes! This was a travesty. I pulled them off of my feet, threw them into a trash can filled with beer cups, and demanded he give me a ride to my car on his back. He thought I was crazy. He just didn’t get how important the Shoe Theory was! The golden rule to the Shoe Theory is that they have to be unique. So if they start to appear in shopping mall store windows and on the feet of girls at concerts wearing big bows in their hair, the shoes have to be retired. IMMEDIATELY.

I think my next pair of shoes worthy of recognition was a great pair of royal blue Simples. The last I wore them I was on another date with “Mike”. I stepped in a huge, sloppy pile of fresh doggy dung. They were rendered totaled, I was sad to lose them. “Mike” still didn’t get it and shook his head smugly with each mention of it.

I went back to the old reliable, beige Vans. The skater shoes were getting puffier and wider and things were changing. Who am I? What is the RIGHT shoe for me? This question became less and less important as I began to see people more for who they were and not the shoes they had on their feet. I will probably always have a pair of Vans in the back of my closet and I will always appreciate truly unique shoes, just less viciously. I am fully aware that there is so much more to me than just a pair of white Penguins. And as for “Mike”, well, I eventually talked him into marrying me and he is now an extremely picky shoe-shopper.

Oh, and as for the type of shoes I will don my children with? Only the COOLEST FREAKING SHOES EVER!

*picture by Penguin


Christmas Day 2002
so many things are sexy about this picture of my husband