No one running through an airport trying to stop someone from going somewhere....

I'm particularly a fan of Bradley Cooper chuggin the bottle of wine in that background, wearing a tux jacket and Carharts. Not that? Is high art.

And Justin Long gets more adorable every time I see him. *runs off to watch Accepted for the thousandth time*




Incidently, they're right. You should really go see this movie. You'll spend two hours thinking "Crap, that's SO me!"

Oh, the weather outside is......mild.

Despite my occasional mumbly-grumblies about various aspects of my place of birth, it's days like today when I relish it.

Why, you ask?

Well, I'll tell you. See, it's February. And cloudy out. And--apologies to my friends/family in the North--I wore flip-flops today.

Without getting frost-bitten little piggies. How suhweet is that?!

Another gem from the kiddos in my life.....

Upon being told by my mother that he could get a book and read while she helped Gracie for a minute:


"Gigi.....I no can read. I don't have enough teefs (teeth)."


And all this time I thought that it was because he wasn't yet three.

"When is your birthday?"

This is how the conversation started, innocently enough. But after years of chasing youngsters, I should've known better. I should've read the subtext, looked past the lead, and seen where this line of questioning was going.

Which was here:

R: (twirling an errant piece of my hair as we watch Oklahoma) "Molly, when is your birthday?"

Me: "January 3rd"

R: "And HOW old were you?"

Me: "25"

R: "Is that after 24?"

Me: (finally catching on, starts to fidget) "Well, yes."

R: "hmmmm........Don't you have a baby YET?!"

Me: "..............."

R: "Cause, Molly, you're 25. And that's like, almost a hundred."

I: (in her characteristic Etta James gruff) "Yeah....it IS pretty old."

R: "You should definitely get married.....you know, so that you can get a baby. And besides, your glasses are super cute AND you have the best hair."


Um, right. It's always good to have your life put into perspective by a five and six year old. They really should team up with Cars and Con, who are under the impression that I am "ready to get married" because I "am honest and have good judgment."


At least SK is on my side in all this. Her commentary on the end of Oklahoma.....
"Why does Laurie have to marry that Gurly boy? Why can't she and Annie just be cowboys too?"

Well said, Sassy. Well said.

Note To Self:

Don't have a nervous breakdown or psychotic episode. Neither would be good.

Public Letter-Writing Thursday.

Dear Joe 'Bama,

While I respect your freedom as an American to buy whatever car you choose, what I do not respect is your insistence that owning a Ford F-350 Extended Cab Wrangler Special Edition super truck is necessary. Unless you are doing farm work---which is doubtful in the cinemascopic wilds of McFarland Blvd.--or you are moving large pieces of furniture--which you clearly were NOT--this truck is not mandatory.

I'll even hazard to say that it's frivolous, wasteful, and inconsiderate. You are wasting oil, space, and my sanity by continuing to drive to and from your job at Longhorn or ALFA Insurance or Fraternity Row in this land barge.

Also, don't drive this and then dare to put a sticker on the back of said truck that says "Gas Prices Suck." Not that I disagree. They certainly do. But driving something the size of Rhode Island and then complaining about how expensive it is to fill-up, is something akin to me buying a raw silk chartreuse Cynthia Rowley cocktail dress and then bitching about the dry cleaning bill.

Love,
Me

P.S. Please forward the above missive to your friend "97 lb. Sorority Girl who drives around town ALONE in a Tahoe" Thanks, Management.