Random Thoughts

A thought popped in my head yesterday, (if you know me at all you'll know my thought process is quirky) while watching Leona kitty roam the bathroom floor desperate for any kind of attention, "She must think I am the most vain person in the world."  They say not to anthropomorphize your pets thoughts, and that most folks think cats and dogs know nothing of vanity, but I beg to differ.  Maybe they don't go to the lengths and degrees that we do to keep up with current tends and fashion, but they definitely know when they are looking might dapper, I must say.  I digress, back to my thought...  It takes me at least three times as long to get primped and ready for the day as it takes my handsome husband.  (Thought leap: man, it sucks to be a girl.)  A good chunk of my time with Leona is when I am getting ready in the morning and preparing for sleep at night.  In both cases, I'm doing a long drawn out routine in front of the bathroom mirror, hence the thought.

Moving on...

I saw this picture in a free magazine I receive due to some affiliation within the interior design realm, Riviera Interiors.  It's of a community room in Culver City, California, designed by Angeleno Interiors for Upward Bound House which provides emergency housing for 18 families.

What caught my eye was the children's table in the middle.  How cool would it be to have that as your coffee table in your living room when you have (a) limited space and (b) toddlers?!  I'm inspired.

My Conversion to Cowgirl

PART 1
In their quest to convert this suburban girl into an urban one, my husband and the Welch's have me listening to a lot more country music.  I suppose this transition was bound to happen at some point, living with the son of two "Americana" enthusiasts.   Like my switch from Jew to Jesus, this choice was mine to make.  It started slowly with the introductions of a few crossover hits.

The day that changed my life forever was when I told Matt, "I listened to the country music stations on my way to and from Escondido [80 minute drive each way] because I like the stories I heard in the songs."  I'm  going to sound grey-haired here, but today's music lacks a narrative, twists, a theme and lessons that make me want to listen 'til the end.

Since that day, Matt has programmed 105.1 Go Country & KFRG to my car radio pre-sets, rekindled my childhood interest in Randy Travis and fed my musical brain current and classic country songs that I now unconsciously start blurting out lyrics to.

PART 2
Over lunch, yesterday, my in-laws mentioned the Boot Barn was hosting a radio station event and that there would be door prizes and discounts - proverbial music to this former Jew's ears!  Matt and I had recently been dreaming about purchasing "real" boots, so we felt this was a good opportunity to check things out.  When we arrived at the Boot Barn there was no crowd in sight.  We inquired within and were told that the event must be at the Corona store.  Not wanting to be rude, we continued to peruse the merchandise.  Each of the four of us found a nice shirt on the sales rack.  The purchase of the shirt, I knew, was a line I would be crossing that meant no return.

Matt had mentioned our interest in boots, so the four-some headed to the Orange Mall where fellow San Antonio [Catholic Church] goers own a store, The Corral.  Like my friend's custom Bra Shoppe in Bake-o, CA and North Carolina, the owners help find the perfect fit for your body, or foot in this case.  It was here that I was paired with my transformational 1883 Luchese calf skin (sorry PETA) American made cowgirl boots.

*Note Leona kitty in the background inspecting the box they came in.

Yee Haw!

Nanny Schnannigans

What we do to entertain ourselves, I mean the kids.

I guess you're not so bad after all.

While babysitting today, Bella, the 8-year-old girl from down the street told me this:  "When I first met you I thought you'd be mean and strict, but it turns out you're not."

Sounds like a solid approval.  Sweet!

That's What She Said

Let me set the scene for you.  I was babysitting the boys.  Andrew, the elder of the two, was at the breakfast table while Tommy, who is chest deep in his terrible twos, was looking for something to do.  Tommy noticed Andrew's bowl of goodies from a recent plastic Easter egg hunt.  Eyeing a round blue object I told Tommy to ask Andrew for permission to play with his toys.  After permission was granted I chimed in with, "Thank you for letting him play with your balls."

I laughed internally, because all I wished for at that very moment was another adult to share the "That's what she said," moment with.

Meg Whitman is full of shit, man.

(Did you notice how I put her picture on the right?)

My fourth impression is that Meg Whitman is a hypocrite.  

Why don't these multi-millionaires do something more productive with their money rather than trying to gain more power?  Take a tip from Bill and Melinda Gates, and try helping out the needy instead of yourself.  Make a change that makes sense.

I'll be voting my party line for Governor this November.

Stepping down from my soap box now.