Tic-Tock

This isn't a blog about my biological clock a'tickin'.  Though it may be, those of you expecting me to report that there's a "bun in the oven" can relax.  I'm not gonna need to stop drinking.  Yet.  THE NATIVES CAN RESTOCK THEIR SHELVES!!!  I don't need the ABC stores to put an APB out on me.  They're still bitter about that last time, circa 2000.

This IS, as I understand it, the year of the rabbit.  Kudos to the bunny, I say.  (Especially since my guest spot on GBG #386's blog http://barrfamramblings.blogspot.com/ and our bunny tale - not tail, teeheee.) 

According to the http://www.theholidayspot.com/, last year needed to be O.V.E.R.  Over at least for me. 

Compliments o' cut and paste from the above site:  A placid year, very much welcomed and needed after the ferocious year of the Tiger. We should go off to some quiet spot to lick our wounds and get some rest after all the battles of the previous year.

Good taste and refinement will shine on everything and people will acknowledge that persuasion is better than force. A congenial time in which diplomacy, international relations and politics will be given a front seat again. We will act with discretion and make reasonable concessions without too much difficulty.

A time to watch out that we do not become too indulgent. The influence of the Rabbit tends to spoil those who like too much comfort and thus impair their effectiveness and sense of duty.

Skip to the end, because a lot of that beginning chitter-chatter with big words confused me.  What I read in that last paragraph meant to me, that this tiger made me indulge too often and IT was the reason I piled on a few extra lbs in 2010.  Stupid tiger.  Thank goodness they don't eat their young.  Um, do they?

Anywaaaaaaaay, I'm re-naming this year, 2011, the year of the clock.  Or watch, per say.  I decided this for a few reasons.  One, after purchasing this little timepiece downtown a few weeks ago for the girl.

This is the Pop Watch in Fusion.  Isn't it pretty?

I'll answer you.  Yes, it is.  It even fits nicely around delicate wrists. 

That being said, it was hard to set, dangit.  After picking it up and putting it down a few tens of times over the past two weeks, tonight I set off to the wonderful world of the web for assistance.  Shit and shineola, under the ThePopWatch website, the first FAQ is how to set the SOB!  Giddyup!  And thank you to my straight-post earring.

Also in recent months, we've added a few Slapwatches to our collection:

Also, I have been sporting a fabulous Tag watch compliments of my NJ cousin Casey (I have to specify the residing state, since I also have a VA cousin named Casey).  Her generous fiance gave her a gorgeous new one leading her to handing her first one down to me to keep in the family.  Yay for fiances and cousins!  (I'll also add here that my my VA cousin a few years ago practically gave me (payment plans to me, mean practically giving) the four-wheeled green hornet outside so I could continue to get to work and move the girl to-and-fro.  Yay for cousins, all around, I say!)  I only hope that neither Caseys ask that I pay it forward anytime soon.  I still need to know what time it is AND still need to get around.  ;)

So the Year of the Clock/Watch it is!  Here, anyway.

Tick. 

And.  Tock.

JB

Say WHAAAAAAT?

Ya'll, I have bad news.  Everyone's ok, so chill out.

That being said, I'd like to tell you why I don't have a savings account.  Well, one that has more than $106 in it.  I buy things that make me happy.  Not the priceless moments, like the walk from the car to a restaurant, arm-in-arm with the girl (something I hope NEVER stops happening), or a pinch on the butt or a smooch from my lover (also hope NEVER stops) while I'm in the kitchen whipping up (by "whipping up" those close to me know I mean studying a recipe intently).  I mean material things. 

I love shoes.  Stilettos.  Not so much other styles.  Tennis shoes I will wear until the laces fall out of them.  Flip flops, you ask?  Helloooo Old Navy.  And thank you.  Your seasonal thongs give my sore, sore tootsies the opportunity for some relief.

Around the holidays, I decided to splurge on yet another pair of shoes.  I wasn't a HUGE fan of the tweens and their skinny jeans all tucked into theirs, but I went there.  These puppies had me at hello...

Wearing these to me, is just a bit like a smile on my face - but for my feet.  They smile at me nightly now.  After the long hours at work in my fabulous finds from Scarpa Alta (thank you girls - and LOVE the new pad) and the stupid hour at the gym, these little snuggly bits o'warmness are waiting for me at the foot of my bed with open arms. 

Impossible to describe the feeling to the lover, and since MAB had her own pair of these little treasures,

    Adaire and I set out on the hunt to find him a pair of his own.  Unsure of our plan and his take on the whole thing, we were taking a chance.  You see, CPW is a shoe connoisseur.  He has a room for them.  A ROOM, PEOPLE.  Supporting our local economy, we jetted down to Wilkins Shoe Center to find the perfect pair for our perfect man. 

Don't let the picture fool ya.  They're bigger.  ;)  I just couldn't find a good pic and I'm in a hurry.  We're out of chocolate and one of us has GOT to get to our neighborhood grocery store (GC to the GBG's) to re-stock since our diets start back up tomorrow.

In just a few words and with a smile on his face (and his feet), CPW validated our purchase and surprise and we got much love.

Now, for the bad news:  THE GREEN CLASSIC BOOTS ARE GONE FROM THE UGG ONLINE STORE!  I don't know if I'm just not clicking on the right thing or if Mr W and I just made up these fabulous finds on an online drunken stupor.  But they're gone.  The only option I can find is a tall pair with a goofy flower embroidered on them.  I'm 36.5 years old, everyone.  M'flower days are O.V.E.R.  (Fine, they are days that never should have been in the first place since I'm 4'11", but I also wore parachute pants.  SUE.  ME.)

I didn't want these for St. Patty's Day, trust me.  I just wanted them.  For like, the rest of this stupid chilly weather and to store safely until old man winter rears his ugly head again in a few short months. 
Since I know my friends enjoy a challenge, here it is:

MISSION GREEN UGG BOOTS SIZE 6 WOMEN'S (or equivalent in kid size) FOR BROMLEY...

.....is this mission accepted?  ____ yes    ____no

Think before ya click.  That's all I'm saying.  :x


JB

It's music, people!

Well folks, if memory serves me correctly, it was about this time around 1991 that Annie B (youngest of The Bromley trio) was introduced to the aparatus that Madison Adaire brought home recently.  Sarah Chapin (the middle one) might have had a brief stint with it as well, but I was too busy putting on eyeliner and hairspray back then to remember it.  I have absolutely NO idea if I was ever introduced to it because well, simply put, don't remember lots.  Ya'll can come to your own conclusions about why. ;)

A-hem, a-hem.  BEHOLD, THE RECORDER:

Now, that's not Maddie.  Nor is it HER recorder.  I just thought the picture was classic.  We'll call this gal Linda.  (I've been trying to find someone to name that since the day we found out our Christmas kitten, who was to be named Linda was actually a Leonard.  Neither of my housemates liked that name, Leonard.)  Linda here is playing an alto tenor recorder.  From the view over her shoulder, it appears she was either entertaining at her local county fair or corn maze.  Regardless, she looks to be rockin' out.

Here we have Mad's actual recorder:

That thing beside it?  IT'S THE CLEANING STICK - AND IT'S GRODY.  Maddie informed me this evening while packing it up that it didn't really do any cleaning, that it just collected spit and smelled nasty.  That is neither here nor there.  My main point of bringing this to your attention is to let you know that if you hear howling in the evenings in your 'hood, it's probably just your neighborhood dogs singing along while the JKES 4th graders practice tootin' on these little gems.  My other point is mostly for said 4th graders parents.  When you ask your little musician what songs they're playing, don't get all big-eyed like I did when they say to you "NotChoMomma".  That's NOT the name of their song.  I almost had to call GBG #386 to have a chat about The Great Mr. Stitcher's tune choices.  My big eyes reduced to usual size after Maddie brought me the actual musical piece from her bookbag shaking it all around my face saying "what's wrong with it, moooooooooooooom?

  The title, you ask?

"Nacho Mama"

After cracking the H.E. double hockey sticks up, rolling on the floor laughing at me, Maddie "played me" her rendition of the ditty.  It ain't half bad for a piece of plastic with some holes in it.  I just know I'M not putting MY lips on the thing!  I AM, however, on my way to the kitchen to get a bowl of Tostitos. :)

JB

I. AM. EXHAUSTED.

S.C.H.E.W.!!!!  After all of this creatin' and stuff, I'm beat.  How do the ones I follow do it?  Pretty pages, pretty pics, pretty backgrounds and to top it all off - THEIR BLOGS HAVE SUBSTANCE! 

That being said, for my virginal blog, I think I'll chat about how lucky I am.  K?  K.

I'm lucky. (Ahaaaahhaaa, that's not all, sillies!)

I wake up every morning.  Hallelujah. 

My dear friend, Al, has this gift of making pics of me look like I don't have splotchy skin.  (Trying to find pics for this thing reminded me to visit my nearest Clinique counter and re-up my bottle o'anti-splotch.) Another dear friend, Nen, (and fellow GBG - #380 to be exact) sends me emails that make me cry and remember how so important my friendships are.  My sisters, one-day sister-in-law and our families make me smile and remind me that though we aren't all physically close (or have the time to spare with jobs, families and DVR'd shows to catch up on), we're all just a g-chat, text, email or SHOCKER - in this day in age - even just a phone call away!

I'm also lucky that after 35 years, I re-met an old friend and fell madly in love.  Did I mention he's super sexy?  He totally is.  Just ask the gals at school.  It's true.  aeorje0waq <---that was Monkey the Cat - he fancies my lap, regardless of what may be on it, sorry.  Back to m'lover.  He not only has accepted my neurotic, anti-social, seasonally depressed and crier of all things and laugher at even more ass, he has taken on father DAD (that word means so much more) duties to THE most important thing in my life.  Not just taken them on, he's embraced them.  And that's admirable.  And makes me cry.  I know - you didn't expect that, did ya?

All that up there brings me to my most important appreciation of my luck.  MAB was unplanned, unexpected and THE ABSOLUTE BEST THING THAT EVER HAPPENED TO ME.  She made me grow up (and though I should have been, I wasn't quite ready).  My getting all preggo made me realize that my 1-bedroom bachelorette pad simply wouldn't do for the two of us and an equal-to-me neurotic, ginormous dog.  Hence me, big belly and canine, relocating to a more luxurious bigger pad.  That move introduced me to the best girlfriends a knocked-up girl could ask for.

I've grown up a lot in the past 10 years.  Set-backs?  Yes.  Tears?  Uh-huh.  Awesome family and friends to fall back on?  YOU BETCHA! 

I'm a lucky girl.

You may not talk to them daily, even weekly or monthly, but the ones you hold close know how much you care - and need them.  And when the going gets tough, they're always there. 

Count your blessings, ya'll.  I do.

JB