How Song Titles are Born
Conversation as Brian, the kids and I were returning home after my three-year-old's Christmas concert, which he basically refused to sing in (except for Jingle Bells), then proceeded to hoot and holler wildly for the kids in subsequent performances:

Me: I'm just not sure he should be hooting and hollering like that in public. I mean, there's a time and a place for whooping.
Brian: Definitely, but it was okay where he whooped. The song starts, no whoop. The song ends, and whoop ... there it is.

BLOGGER

In the dictionary these days ...
I was doing a spell check recently and the word "jammy" came up (it was a wine descriptor, which is a story unto itself). One of the replacement words listed was "Mammy". Okay ...

Slave to the '80s
Brian went out to change the Rodeo into it's spankin new Colorado plates today. When he returned, I had turned the Yankees game (he's a native of Albany) to the Breakfast Club on FX. In total shock, he said, "I can't believe you turned the game. You're such a slave to the 80s." But, I would be routin for Boston, he's all about the Yankees, I was just trying to avoid turmoil, really ...

The joys of work
Not until now did I realize the joy of work: sitting in bed with my imac on my lap, a glass of red wine and words I'm being paid to write scrolling across my screen (oh, and "Breakfast Club" on in the background). Wait, the wine isn't scrolling across my screen, it's on the table next to me ... wait, have I had too much wine ...

What a long strange month it has been ...

I woke up this morning to a view of newly snow-capped Longs Peak. It sure is good to be home. You wouldn't have seen those words here a week or two ago, though. I was really having a tough time with the move, being in a new town and letting go of what had become so much a part of my identity: my work at RU. Much more happened to me over the past seven years than I had realized, until I came home. Home is now a different place and I am a totally different person. I learned so much in Virginia, not only professionally but culturally. Can it be possible that I've become more confident and assertive, while at the same time becoming softer and more, well, feminine, I suppose? The South brought out the pink-lover in me (and I'm not talking about the pop songstress, here). One of the first things I noticed when I moved there was that the girls were girly. I went to a bar, jean clad with barely any make-up on; I was surrounded by dressed-up twenty-somethings, faces full of make-up, with their hair done up and dangerously close to the lighters they used to light up their tiny, skinny cigarettes. As the years progressed I started wearing nicer pants when we went out, but still rarely a skirt. It was a big step for me, though. A terminal tomboy, I felt myself thinking more about my femininity and appreciating it more, I think. I met several Southern women who were masters at subtly using their femininity to get what they wanted. It seemed so much nicer and more graceful than "playing a man's game" and being aggressive to get what you want on a professional level. I began to appreciate it. Anyway, I think some of that may have rubbed off on me -- or could I be wishfully thinking that I now posses some Southern charm in my new Western home? Well, I'm starting to adjust and seeing Longs this morning and traveling to Estes Park yesterday evening made me feel more at home in my new home, which is basically a few doors down from my old, old home. I've updated my web site. Check it out, will ya?

Bravo, Lance.

To Jinx or Not to Jinx ... Just got back from a whirlwind househunting trip to Colorado. When we were checking in at the cute little Roanoke airport (another thing I shall miss), the checker-inner-guy said he could get us seats together for the flight on the way to Cinci, but not to Denver from there. When we got to Cinci and asked the gate checker-inner-guy he said he probably couldn't do it, but he would give it a shot. A minute later, he looks up at us and says, "It's your lucky day," and handed us two new boarding passes. It all happened in slow motion, the motion of his mouth, his hand reaching for the under-the-desk ticket printer. As the words came out of his mouth, I was alarmed and my eyes took on the appearance of pie plates. "Take it back!" I wanted to scream. "Knock on wood for God's sakes, or do something!" were the words scurrying through my mind. I knew those few, well-meaning words would mean nothing but destruction for the remainder of the trip. I accepted the tickets with a weak smile and moved to the boarding area.
I was waiting for the plane to blow up, the rental car to pick up to turn into a Seinfeld episode, a tornado to hit DIA. But it didn't. On the contrary, we ended up with an upgrade at the Hertz desk to a Mustang, the drive from DIA to Loveland took way less time than we expected and, here's the best part, we found our house, THE house. It was the 2nd one we looked at. Granted, we still scoured the market the rest of the evening and most of the day Saturday, but we found it. We just made an offer and are hammering out the contract now. I can't believe it.
Saturday evening we met with just about my whole family at Cinzetti's, a fabulous Italian restaurant that always reminds me what gluttons American's are (me included, of course). We arrived late because we had been writing our names over and over again, like a girl signing her name with the last name of the boy she has a crush on, over and over and over again, just to see how it looks. Anyway, my mother, father, step-parents, step-grandparents, step-Aunt and Uncle, sisters, brother-in-law, neice and nephew were all there and surrounded us with love the second we came in sight of the table. The resounding "hey"s and "ho"s emanated from their section of the room and they all wanted to see the pictures and add their advice and compliments. We ate a great meal, chatted with everyone, milled from one end of the table so as to be sure to get in a few moments with everyone. It was a great night -- great food, surrounded by loved ones, sipping on a new drink I discovered that night (a Bellini, or something like that).
So we're back now in Roanoke and I'm dreading saying good-bye to my family here. We still haven't sold our house (it's only been on the market four days) and I'm developing the dreaded stress cold-sore that had better be gone before everyone starts taking that "one last picture" with me. I still don't think I'm jinxed though ...

Home, sweet home … Some of the things I will miss most about Virginia:

- Fireflies
- Colorful Southern sayings. My favorite? “I’m as nervous as a whore in church.” (courtesy of BonBon).
- The prevalence of history … every day … all the time … everywhere.
- The view at Salem Avalanche A baseball games — a beer in hand, a baseball game below and unadulterated beautiful blue ridge mountains at sunset as a backdrop. The closest thing to perfection.
- My tree-lined street; my beautiful house; the window seat in my sons’ room; sitting in said window seat at dusk with a boy on each leg, my arms surrounding them, reading a book (“It’s pajama time, ooooh yes, it’s pajama time. Pajama to the left, pajama to the right, jamma jamma jamma jamma, pj! Everybody’s wearing them for dancing tonight, jamma jamma jamma jamma, pj!” Sandra Boynton rocks!), with the sound of the cicada’s in the background.
- Seth Williamson’s voice every morning.
- The varied accents. My favorite? Buchanan County (yes, sometimes individual counties have their own accent, which can vary greatly from one just a few miles away). I could sit and listen to this soft, deep drawl forever. It even makes insults sound pleasant (I’ll get to another Southern take on insults a bit later).
- The delicate and profuse flower of the Dogwood (everything is a Dogwood to Brian) in spring and the huge, waxy white, strongly sweet smelling magnolia flowers of May and July. They’re like extraordinarily large Gardenias … like a boutonnière the Green Giant would wear to Prom.
- Being a mere five hours away from the big blue (although I’m scared to death to swim in it because of the creatures that call it home). I sure love to stare at it and smell it, though.
- “Bless his/her heart.” The dichotomy of this oft said Southern statement is fascinating. Depending on the tone and statement that follows or encompasses it (it is often an interjection) the speaker is planning to head right home and pray for or curse the person being referred to.
- The amazing people I have been blessed to work with and play with. Over the past seven years, I have found my own Virginia family and I wish I could take each and every one with me (well, except for one or two, bless their hearts). My confidant, intellectual sparring partner and talented designer (yes, my designer) James; beautiful inside and out girlfriend who has my back, April; a crazy guys guy on the outside, but true to heart wonderful father Colin; the true phenomenal woman, BonBon, whom I can’t even think of saying good-bye to without getting verklempt; grammar goddess and valued advice dispenser Kathie, I won’t even get into Jeff, ( his web site is a wonderful window into his endearing eccentricities); computer fixer and master e-mail forwarder Jon; my mentors Rob, Debbie and, before the blow-out, Kitty; the glue that holds the ship together Shirley, Sherry and Teresa; my sweet, strong Somiah who consistently reminds me of myself about ten years ago (poor thing!); my GE crew, Will (amazing, amazing person), Chris (another native Coloradan — if he doesn’t end up being our next door neighbor within the next two years, I’ll be devastated), Paul (holds a special place in my heart) and his fiancée Amy (who I always wanted to get to know better), Brian Aiken and Andrea (two wonderful people who I hope end up in Colorado, too) Katie and Kevin (a wonderful couple who we didn’t get to spend as much time with as we should’ve), Corey and Sara (ditto), Hannah and Ed (the perfect couple with style and warm hearts), Andy (who is on his way to Harvard) and the list could go on and on. There are a bunch of GE guys and RU folks who have come and gone and I already miss them and will continue to (Brent, Thanh and Karen, Rekha and Jon, Ivan and Joy, Elizabeth and Bob, Jen, Jenna, Andy, Laura, Frannie, Judy, Joe and Angie, Beth, Trina and so many more). It’s so strange how many people you can meet and become close to in just seven years. Anyway, I hate good-bye’s so I’ll just consider this an until-I-see-you-next-time kind of thing.

I’ll continue this list, I think, probably when I’m back in CO trying to write with two screaming (yet adorable) kids vying for my attention.

I guess it’s quite obvious that Brian got the job. That’s right momma, I’m comin’ home.

Going Bonkers (Again) … There are times when I feel like I’m completely losing my mind … like now. After a glorious week-long vacation at North Myrtle Beach with family, I return to what I left, times 10. I’m still trying decide where I want to go with this blog … how much personal stuff I want to put in, how much work stuff, how much ideological stuff, etc., so I’m perplexed about how much I can reveal right now to explain why I feel this way. Suffice it to say that this roller-coaster ride I’m unwillingly on stems from not knowing whether or not Brian has gotten this job back home. That unsurity has led me on a nasty little path that makes me feel quite worthless and self-loathing, for some reason. If anyone reading this has tips for me on how to stop thinking about something that is consuming their thoughts 90 percent of their waking hours, turning them into complete depressed lunatics, please reveal.

Side notes: Mighty Girl reveals that she’s meeting with publishers. Yea! I’ll be the first in line to buy her work. Go Maggie! ... Talking Points Memo is on my screen a lot lately. I have such admiration for smart people who do their homework and don’t seem arrogant. … I finally got a Kate Spade bag, thanks to my dear mummie! (I feel like such a child.) I do love it. It’s a mae’s messenger style, travel corners. God, I hope I can keep it clean. … Last but not least, my youngest, Ethan, just turned one this week. Bittersweet. He’s growing up so fast and I hate it, but at the same time my back is grateful that he’s walking more so I don’t have to carry him as much. Sigh …

Takin’ it to the streets … I’m so glad I was late for work today! I was able to catch Bob Edwards’ interview with Michael McDonald in the car just before I arrived. Oh, that voice of his (Michael's, not Bob's). It makes me feel hugged. And his rendition of “All is Fair in Love,” … ahh, butter! When I was a little girl, my dad loved the Doobie Brothers. I remember him teaching us how to eat spaghetti by singing, “doobie, doobie, dooo” while we twirled our forks on plates, the noodles wrapping softly around. We still do the doobie, doobie, doo when we eat spaghetti at dad’s.

One for the books …I just had the most fabulous weekend! It began when I got home from work Friday to find that the Kate Spade notebook I had bought on E-bay arrived in the mail. It is so adorable! On top of that, Brian was in the mood for Indian food (yea!) so we ordered take out, which we picked up after our ritual Friday night grocery shopping (I love grocery shopping – something with a list, surrounded by food, ahhhh). We awoke the next day to wonderful, sunny (for the first time in weeks!) Saturday morning. After a trip to the playground with the kids and a quick lunch, my sister called with news of the Kate Spade bag my mother bought. (The bag story is way too long and sordid to go on about here, but suffice to say that there were two bags involved after two trips to Nordstrom and another store – one bag was real, one not and my big sister orchestrated my receipt of the real one! What can I say, she’s always got my back.) The afternoon was filled with crisp breezes rushing through the windows. It felt so wonderful during a short afternoon nap. I actually had to get under the covers! As Brian, the kids and I were taking an early evening walk, our neighbors invited us over to grill. As luck would have it, we already had steaks marinating, so we took them up on the offer, met two new friends who were at our neighbors house in the process and had a great Pina Colada to boot. I had to leave a bit early, though, because I had a date (yes, a date). I ran home, put a mask on my face while watching a rerun of Sex and the City, showered, then primped while listening to George Michael’s “Freedom,” taking me back to my college days. My dates, That F and his boyfriend G (I think I’ll call them F&G from now on) came to get me and the night began. We met up with another friend at a hip downtown restaurant/bar called Metro. I felt like the Belle of the Ball. I walked in with three gorgeous guys and I swear I had to be the envy of all the ladies who seemed to be there in large gaggles. (Never mind that all my escorts aren’t exactly looking at the women!) After a few drinks and great conversation, we headed to the Park to dance the night away. I just love dancing with gay men! We had the most fabulous time dancing, talking and letting loose a bit. That F commented while we were on the dance floor that apparently there was one working mother of two who really had to get out! He was right. Sunday was another great weather day, although I felt a bit woozy from the night before. Out of the blue a friend called to say that she and her family were road-tripping from Boston to Dallas with their newborn and could she meet up with us for lunch. The boys were a bit rowdy, but lunch with them was wonderful and their little boy, Ethan, is just precious. We then returned home and took a long afternoon nap, which I sorely needed. I had a laid back remainder of the evening and watched the Sex and the City final season premiere. What the hell was Carrie wearing, by the way? The cherry on top of the whole weekend, though, is that it may be a Monday, but it’s my last Monday for two weeks! I’m meeting up with my sis and her family for a beach week next week and couldn’t be more excited. As That F always says, “Is life good or what?”

Rain, rain, go away ... I'm soooo depressed. If it rains one more day, I do believe I'll go insane. I feel like I live in Seattle, but without the good music and cute coffee shops. Sigh ... Some good news -- I think I'm starting to quell my obsession with Kate Spade. I bought the french wallet for a pretty penny a while back and positively love it. The other day, I bought a notebook and feel very satisfied. Now, alI I need is a purse and I will be satiated (I can only hope, anyway). I'm certainly less obsessed than before, that's for sure. (God, I sound like such a material girl!) However, I did find a one-time blog (it was an article in a webzine, I believe) of the woman who owns and runs Enokiworld, a wonderful vintage clothing/accessories shop, and discovered she hates Kate Spade with a passion. I love Enokiworld's stuff and the woman obviously has fabulous taste. Too bad we disagree ... BTW, I got a B in my class. I suppose I should be happy, considering the chain of events overwhelming my life lately (sick child during finals week, the future in the balance thing with GE and Colorado, etc.). Anyone reading this, please keep your fingers crossed that Brian gets this job; the longer we wait to hear the more I think he didn't get it and I'm not going home, where, to my recollection, the sun shines occasionally.

Travesty … Poor thing, I still do have quite an affinity for Martha and her products, intellectual and otherwise. I do believe one of the main reasons this is happening is because she is so determined and successful, causing her to be the envy of many, many uppercrust socialites with a vengence, I suppose. Her being bitchy probably didn’t help matters. I swear, if they indicted every richie Rich who traded using insider information they’d have cell block c full of Armani suits. It’s kinda sad that an American icon appears to be on the downturn. (Even though I fully believe her products, at least, will survive – I’m willing to bet she will, too. She’s such a fighter!) What next? Kate Spade found staging dogfights in they alley behind her posh shoppe?

Gone, gone, gone, you been gone so long … To my one loyal reader, a co-worker who I have decided to call “That F” in my blog, I apologize for my long respite from writing. As you know, I’ve been back to the books, trying to finish up my MBA once and for all (don’t worry, I won’t campaign to try to run the country like some other MBA you adore). Anyway, besides the stress of school and other things that I can’t mention in dichotomous yet that have diverted my attention, not much has been happening in my happy little life. Ethan is starting to walk, both boys are finally sleeping through the night (for the most part) and work is going well. We just received the campaign prospectus, which That F and I worked very, very hard on. So, that has been rewarding. I’ve been thinking about the ‘80s a lot. I sure did love that decade, and I’ll admit it now that I’m more secure with myself (Did you catch the song reference in my heading today?) As for current events, I loved Friedman’s story today. I thought it was spot on. I’ll try to write more often from now on. I’ll be out and about and think, “I really need to put this in dichotomous,” but then I end up having to change a poopy diaper or get the travel sized bottles of liquor out of my toddler’s hands and my blogthoughts just fade into the distance.

Education via blog Up until now, my thoughts written on this page concerning the war have relied on my limited knowledge of history and current events. I read (or at least scan) the New York Times daily as well as CNN.com . Before Crossfire switched to its new ridiculous 4:30 p.m. time slot I watched it on a daily basis. NPR is cemented into position on my radio dial as well. So, yes, I may know a tad more than others who aren’t staying abreast in any fashion, or just reading their local papers, but I am not the best educated on the matter, by far. In addition, I have always been distrustful of the media and government, always prefacing comments to coworkers with “from what our media/government tells us,” etc. A co-workers blog is beginning to educate me and confirm my aforementioned long-held mistrust, which was largely borne from what I learned in J School at CU. Kudos to you, Jeff, for your extensive research, voracious literary appetite and impressive intellectual capacity. I may not agree with all of Jeff’s political statements, but the man is well read.

The sweetest thing ever said ... "You're more important than Tango." Thank you, Michelle! Ditto to you!

The War … Between Sunday’s New York Times cover shot (I couldn’t find a link – a marine held a four-year-old girl whose mother was killed by Iraqi cross-fire) and a recent tête-a-tête in the office (in which I was not included, but forwarded the correspondence by someone who was and thought I would be interested) my position against the war has solidified.

I’ve been in a state of complete information overload. I guess I realized I had crossed the line into insanity when on Sunday morning I was reading the Times, listening to NPR and flipping back and forth between CNN and MSNBC. My husband came in the room and said simply, “I’ve had enough.”

The war has given me a constant knot in my stomach and sleepless nights. All I can think of is the mothers losing their children and children losing their parents, regardless of their nationality. I am heartbroken and exhausted and we’re only a few days in.

Truth is, Saddam is horrible and heartless, according to what I’ve learned from our media. I would love nothing more than the folks in Iraq to have freedom, but on their terms. Bush has taken matters into his own hands and has been acting dictatoresque (he makes up words, so why can’t I?!).

The man wasn’t even elected by the popular vote, he had his republican minions engineer and approve a bill in which he can declare war without any congressional approval and he insulted the intelligence of the other countries in the UN by dismissing their insight and opinion and going to war. I don’t know about anyone else, but I think the fact that someone with merely an MBA (no offense to business students, I was pursuing an MBA myself pre-kids) is “running” the country is frightening. And an admitted C-student as well. You’d think at least our economy would be taken care of with a businessman at the helm. Anyway, his background should, in some fashion at least, reveal his priorities. I’d much rather have a much more intelligent social scientist in charge.

Do I want Saddam out? Of course. By these means? Absolutely not. The antipathy and flippancy concerning human lives in the media as well as among co-workers (well, one) is startling and disheartening to me. When will this society evolve?

My 2-1/2 year old approached me this weekend, put his hand on his chest and said earnestly, “I come in peace.” Now, that’s my boy.

Is the war making anyone else sick to their stomach today.

The best laid plans … Between work deadlines, having two children (one who just started crawling!) and the chaos (and depression) of war, I haven’t been able to write about my fun-filled mini-vacation to Lexington, Va. with the family … until now. I’m sure everyone has been waiting with bated breath, so here goes.

So we decide to get outa Dodge for a while to escape and try to relax. I wanted to rent a cabin, but it is NCAA playoff time, so we had to go someplace with electricity and a television, preferably with ESPN. We end up booking a hotel in Lexington a few days before we leave, with the grand plans of visiting the Natural Bridge Zoo, which purportedly has the largest collection of animals and birds in the state, then trekking over to Lexington to walk around Washington and Lee, check into the hotel and take a much coveted nap.

After taking the car in for a much-needed oil change and Ethan in for an emergency doctor’s visit to take care of what would be his third ear infection, we were off. Remarkably, we were only one hour behind my anally kept schedule. We get to the zoo. It’s closed. Yes, we checked its web site, which stated it was open. I promised Ty animals and that was the only word he repeated incessantly on our one-hour journey.

So, we break into the zoo. Not an all out lock-pickin’, fence-climbin’ break-in, mind you. We just found an open employees-only gate and walked right in. We got to see the two tigers, bears, mountain lion and a bunch of little fuzzy petting zoo donkeys before a few zoo personnel came and booted us. It satiated Ty anyway and kept us true to our word. And we didn’t get arrested! (Ha! Imagine sweet 8-month-old Ethan in prison stripes!)

We walk around Washington and Lee and eat at a great little café called Joyful Spirit. I had no idea how yuppyville W&L would be. I saw guys in light blue Bermudas with pale yellow Polo shirts on and every, I mean every, girl had a black Kate Spade bag.

We check into the hotel. There’s no way in Hell that Ty is going to take a nap so we watch basketball then go to VMI’s campus and watch the parade. I used to be very anti-military in my younger days and you never would’ve caught me there. However, several experiences and I suppose just getting older, has made me appreciate the military more. I thought the parade and campus were beautiful and very moving. As I held Ty and the early evening sun dropped slowly behind the mountains I got a little verklempt. Ty was unaffected. If anything, I figured at least we were safe there cause there were a bunch of guys and gals with guns. (ha)

Post parade we walk around downtown, which is totally adorable and quaint with lots of cute little shops. We go to dinner at the Palms (no similarity to Vegas’ version). After we went to an adorable little ice cream shop where the W&L schoolgals oohed and aahed over the boys (Ty is such a flirt!).

Saturday morning we head over the horse show – another favorite of Tyler’s (or so we thought). Ever since he rode a horse at Sinkland Farms (they have a pumpkin patch in the fall and offer all kinds of fun things for little kids) he adores horses and couldn’t wait to see them. The horse show was very small (and cold!). A bit of a disappointment, but I did see the most beautiful horse I’ve ever seen in my life there. Was it worth the build-up … uh, no.

Next we went to Rockbridge Vineyard. I would have to say this was the highlight for me. The woman there was wonderful, warm and knowledgeable. It was just us on the little tour, so we got to ask every question we’ve ever had about wine-making. It was fabulous. We then had a little tasting while the hostess pulled out a basket of toys for the boys. Smart lady! We bought a bottle each of the Chardonnay Reserve, Merlot and Traminette (Brian’s favorite – a little too sweet for me). After a nap and some more basketball we walked around town again, then went for Mexican food.

The next morning we packed to go, got some coffee at the downtown coffee shop (again, so adorable!) and drove around town to look at the beautiful houses and fantasize about our perfect house when we move back home to Colorado.

I’ve left out the parts about trying to sneak in war tv and radio every chance I could. It was odd trying to have fun and forget about the current state of the world, then crave information once I got near a radio or television. Brian and I played our tv tango – if I left the room he would turn back to basketball, when I came back in, or if he left, I would turn it back to CNN. Either way it’s bad news – my bracket choices have been horrible this year and, well, the war is the war.

The night before the war … As I put my eldest son to bed, my husband, in the next room, pontificated the brackets, anticipating a sure win this year with the help of the Sports Center experts, whose muted television voices filtered through our cozy upstairs bedrooms.

I lay curled up on my toddlers bed, as he sat at the foot conquering a puzzle he had faced a hundred times before, yet as seemingly excited as when he first pulled off the clear shrinkwrap letting the wooden pieces topple gently to the floor.

I cuddled under his quilt with red, yellow and periwinkle cars and trucks, my body their temporary mountain to climb, as I stared at his exploring eyes. He picked up a rounded piece with his small but sure hand and softly clicked it into the mother board, printed with a street scene of cars and trucks and buildings created from a stranger’s imagination.

With only the soft light from Gordo and Fishy’s fishtank falling on our shapes he looked into my eyes, paused and smiled, his dimple creating a small dark valley on his soft skin. He raised his eyebrows making his big blue eyes slightly bigger.

“Sleepy, Mommie?”
“Yes, Honey, Mommie is sleepy.”

Still smiling he went back to work as his little brother shifted slightly and breathed a deep, peaceful breath in the white, almost glowing, crib a few feet away.

We played the smiling game for a few minutes. Me watching him work, he peeking his head over the quilt under which I was partially hidden every 30 seconds or so, then breaking into a huge smile when he saw me smiling.

After a small struggle to end puzzle time and begin sleepy time, he curled up next to me, snug into my abdomen, an exaggerated form of how he may have lain two-and-a-half years ago when he was safe inside my belly. I fell asleep with the slightly floral and honey sweet smell of his newly washed hair in the air, feeling the soft blond tresses under my cheek.

It was so peaceful …

Waitress: Hi! What can I get for you today?
Me: I'd like some freedom fries, please, hold the arrogance.
Waitress: Sorry, we just made a fresh batch and have already sprinkled arrogance all over them.
Me: Okay, then, if that's all you've got ...
Waitress: Would you like a side of propaganda with that?
Me: Oh, it's separate? I thought it came with ...

Is My Mind Changing? I am not affiliated with any political party, mind you, but I have been wary of a war with Iraq ... up until now. I do have to say that John McCain's article in the Times today is making me think twice, thrice and even, well, whatever would be next on this subject.

Why can't the Girl Scouts sell their cookies in the fall when I don't care what I look like in a bathing suit?!

Testing ... Geez. I hope I finally have this right. I've been working for days on my template with the help of my friend Jon. I do believe I'm going insane. I'm a writer for goodness sakes, not a code breaker!

A Week Away ... Looks like we're about a week from war. I feel so helpless about it. I'm scared for my children and what will happen once W. launches this unprecedented attack, which will undoubtedly make the U.S. and Americans the top target around the globe. Who can stop W. from making this huge mistake?
On a lighter note, anyone catch the SAG awards last night? Didn't Halle look stunning! I love awards shows; I just can't help myself. I'm such a voyeur -- staring at the "beautiful people" for a couple hours is too tempting to ignore. I think the folks from Will and Grace are positively adorable and I loved the movie Chicago, although I could do with a little less of the Renee love-fest that is going on right now. Was she really THAT great? I think not. Richard's soft-shoe was my favorite part.

The Beginning. Okay, here we go. I think I've finally gotten the template about how I want it. My first real blog! I'd like to start by sending kudos to Maggie Berry, whose blog and writing inspired me to start. She's a fabulous writer and, although she is younger than I, she is who I want to be when I grow up. I would be remiss if I didn't mention the "rare" press conference the prez had on tv last night. I try to listen to Ari's as often as possible and all I can say is that I've heard enough of the same damn buzzwords and blah, blah, blah that it's time to turn off the set. War is quite obviously and sadly inevitable because you-know-who just seems to be bent on it. Granted Saddam is the premiere schmuck of all time, but I've heard enough rhetoric for now. Okay, I promised myself not to get political in my blog so I'll turn that half of me off right now. On to more important matters ... anyone know where I can get a good deal on a Kate Spade bag? (How American of me!)

I'm so very excited for Blogger going over the 1 million mark, of course. But I can't help but think how lame I am being behind 1 million people. Ugh. (And I was sooo excited to start blogging, too! Drat!)

Okie dokie. This is the first time I've ever done this, so I guess I'd be called a blog virgin. Anyway, I'm just testin this puppy out for now.