Message to the Women’s Cosmetics Industry: GFY!!! We actually get BETTER with age!

In case you’re not a potty-mouth by nature, that stands for: Go F*ck Yourself. I’m sick and tired of looking in the mirror and thinking : oh no… I’m starting to get older… my skin really WON”T stay firm and elasticy for all eternity!! Cripes! I hope there is an under-eye cream or something that can help!! I realized today that I’m actually getting better with age, so take THAT cosmetics industry!

The background:

After reading my post about malted wine beverages of yesteryear, my dear friend Beth was inspired to scavenge through some old pictures from college to see if she could find any photographic evidence of Cisco consumption. As I foggily recall, it was her “Family Drink” in the house. My oh my, what a dysfunctional family… Anyway- she couldn’t find any photos from freshman year, when she and her “twin” Amy imbibed the delicious malt libation that is.. Cisco, for the very first time. However, she DID find this choice shot of the two of us during our sophomore year….

Clearly a picture like this prompts one to continue looking through the box of old pictures to find more marvels. Her husband commented, “Oh man, is that Gina? She looks… prepubescent!?”
Okay, so we clearly look like ASS. But afterall, that bottle of Cisco is almost half empty- of COURSE we’re going to look a little… “off.” But here’s another whopper:

This is from Dad’s weekend, and as you can read from the Party Pic frame, the year was 1997.

Nice boyish sweaters huh? Yeah, I guess “Lesbian Chic” was the look we were going for? I mean really… It was Dad’s weekend though, so I do remember that every single sorority girl seemed to turn it down a notch (or two… or three) that weekend as far as the skanky-ho factor was concerned. But seriously, juxtapose that photo with the fact that I now drive a Subaru and have a dog? Smart money would bet that my future would include comments like, “What a beautiful baby! Which one of you is the birth mom?”

And no, that wasn’t REALY Diet Pepsi that we were drinking, but rather Busch Lite that was secretly poured into Pepsi cans in the SAE’s laundry room. You see, Beth and I both were on House Council that year, and the campus had just “gone dry.” Because we were in a position of leadership, we were really trying to enforce it and set a good example…. Yes, I see now that we were missing the point.

Hey Gina, 1997 called. It wants it mom-hair back. (yes, that was in direct reference to a term I learned recently on Mommymatic!)

But aren’t our Dad’s the cutest?

So here we are present day for a point-by-point comparison.

While it is quite tempting to leave it that- with one photo where we both look relatively nice (afterall, it was from her wedding, there was “hair and make-up” involved”)- I am going to leave you with a mini-montage to see for yourself. Some “real life” pictures- some posed, some not, some cute, some not so cute. But all in all, I think we’ve done better with time. I have a sneaking suspicion that this is universal throughout woman-kind.





My take home message (as long as we’ve been talking about malted wine beverages…): Girls are like malt liquor, fun, obnoxious, tasteless and well, pretty cheap. Women are like good red wine: fabulous, and ever improving (assuming proper corking and storage).

Wait wait old man... are you Bartle or Jaymes?

I was talking to Justin today about how some old-timey clients seem to never get our company name quite right. I mean, I know we’ve had some name changes in the last… 10 years, but come on now. You get a CRAP-TON of mail from us regularly, the commercials, the calls from us, the way the receptionists answer the phones… You’d think folks would start to get it right. So we’re wondering if people who work at Smith Barney and Merrill Lynch get this all the time too: Clients calling in with “questions on my Barney and Smith account,” or “I got a letter today from Salomon Barney…” Which lead into, what if we just started answering the phone with, “Bartles and Jaymes, this is Gina!” Or better yet- what if we spun-off on our own and started a firm and called it “Bartles and Jaymes Investments”?? How sweet would THAT be?

I wondered how much it would cost to buy the trademarked name, after-all, its not like they’re still selling Wine Coolers, right?


Wrong-o my friends. Bartles and Jaymes? Very much alive, and just celebrated their 20th Anniversary by re-releasing the “classic” bottles.


Oh how that green glass and gold-foiled label makes me think of being dizzy in the woods around a camp-fire.

So I’m making a list of my top 5 Nasty-Ass Malted “wine” products to share!! (in no particular Order)

1)Cisco :
AKA: “liquid crack,” that syrupy wine cooler-type thing that was just so nasty you had to choke it down, only to throw it up. Usually. Reminds me of “Paddle Parties” of yesteryear…

2) Boon’s Farm Strawberry Hill:
Takes me back to the days when I was a senior in highschool and had a college boyfriend. The first time I was legitimately DRUNK, it was from drinking a bottle of this stuff.

3)Bartles and Jaymes (though I never actually drank enough to really BE drunk from it. I do remember thinking, “ I wonder if I’m really drunk yet....” I know, sad.)

4) Mad Dog 20/20:
I just learned that it’s actually called “Mogan David 20/20” but the MD on the label has given it the Mad Dog pen-name…

5) Pre-made Mimosa. I wish I knew the name of the company that made this stuff, I just remember drinking it from the bottle at “Champagne Breakfasts” before College football games in Pullman. Specifically, at FIJI’s. It’s the stuff that looks like bright orange juice in a champagne bottle… and tastes like fermented, carbonated Orange-Drink from McDonalds… If anyone can find a picture of this product, I will give you bonus points!!

So there you have it. And thank you for your support.

Drunk Off Rock

Oh My Heck. Perhaps you could tell from my last post that I was randomly looking on Wynonna Judd’s homepage yesterday and stumbled upon a few timely events. 1) She was going to be featured on CMT’s “Crossroads” that night with Heart (wow!) 2) That she would be playing in Seattle with the Seattle Symphony in a couple of weeks (Weee!! Talk about good timing!?) and 3) That she would be on Oprah with her whole fan-damily today (Neat, but not quite as exciting as I’m not going to be able to watch it today since I’m…at work)

So I text messaged Lisa to be sure to catch CMT, called Beth to let her know that she should TiVo Oprah and spread the word about Wynonna at the Symphony on October 11th. Last night I cleared my calendar (AKA: “didn’t go to the gym”) to watch the episode of Crossroads. I mean really, how could I not watch this show when it was featuring Heart AND Wynonna?!

It. Was. Awesome.

I can truly say that I was drunk off of rock. Ann Wilson, Nancy Wilson (who, by the way, is just the most bad-ass sexy rocker girl I have ever seen) and Wynonna Judd, all on stage at the same time. I felt like I had swallowed a rock valium and could barely lift my jaw off the floor. It ruled. And I think VH-1 got the “Divas” concept totally wrong, as these three together define the concept of all that reins supreme.

So yeah, I liked the show.

It made me want to be a rock star. But it made me realize that I would have a long way to go, as I can’t really sing (though you may argue that I can if you’re heard me belt out “Gloria” at Karaoke…) and I REALLY can’t play any instruments other than a G-chord on a guitar under Lisa’s most strict supervision.

But heck, just look at The Judds…. Naomi worked as an RN for years, barely making ends meet (because no super-star musician’s ever rose up from “upper middle class”) before she found her harmony with her daughter Wynonna…. Maybe there’s hope for me yet….

So that settles it. Long term goal #1 Have wild-side daughter who likes to sing and form a chart-topping, award winning, trail-blazing singing duo…

Or maybe for a short to medium-term goal I should consider the Heart route and finally concede to a sing-a-long with Lisa…



On a side note, while on her web-page, I also found that Wynonna will be signing copies of her latest release the day after her performance in Seattle. Of all places, she will be at the downtown Costco (which ironically, is one of my favorite businesses of all time). Do you think she would invite me to hang out with her if I brought her a bottle of Drop Dead Red??

some photos...

Here's a shot of the sweet jackets... Jose getting ready to go:


My bike leaning against the famous fence where I got all the damned thorns stuck in my tires :(


Later on in the day when it was warm enough to go without jackets (this was right before I stepped on my sun glasses while fixing my tire)


This is from my camera phone- just a random shot of my Camel Bak. I just love this bag, and I love that I got it on super-duper sale.

And here's another camera phone shot from Leavenworth the next day. Ummm...folk dancing...

Okay- goodnight friends.

Am I a Biker Chick now??

This weekend Jose and I did the “Dam2Dam” bike tour which was a benefit for the Mike Utley Foundation. We took off on Friday night, got the the Holiday Inn Express which was offering fabulously low rates for event participants and started first thing on Saturday morning. Race entry fees included a Tyvek jacket which was printed with the race logo, sponsors etc. Somehow these colors and logos arrived at what was one of the most frightening displays of teal and black that I have ever seen, let alone worn (I’ll post photos soon…). But alas, they were light, wind resistant and made me feel like a official cyclists. And at 8AM in the hills of Wenatchee when you’re in shorts and wicking fabrics (AKA: Freezing your fingers off because its about 40 degrees in the shade), you take any layers that you can get. We set out on our new and nearly new bikes at a nice little pace. By the first rest stop, 12.5 miles in, it was starting to warm up a little, and I was no longer concerned that my fingers would fall off due to the frost-bite and subsequent gangrene that I was anticipating all morning. Lots of snacks and drinks at the first rest-stop, over all, a very nicely run and well-manned event. Met some nice folks while mingling over granola bars and apples.

Onward to the 25 mile mark. We stopped there, again more mingling over apples and local fare. The stop was at a little road-side gift shop/fruit stand that had lots of Columbia Valley wines for sale. We saw the 3rd installment of the Kestrel winery nod to redheads (well, to red wine, but I’m going to take it as a nod to redheads!): The sultry cousin to “Drop Dead Red” from last year, labeled, “Lady in Red.” Haven’t tried the Lady in Red yet, but the Drop Dead Red vol. 2 is a very drinkable wine on its own merits, but the label, (and collecting them all…) is the kicker for me. We wanted to buy it, but I most certainly did not want to carry in my Camel Bak on the 25 mile ride home. Enter Donita, the very nice woman who was the a friend of a friend of a friend of Mike Utley, who was up visiting/helping with the ride. She offered to take any wine we bought back to the post-ride BBQ in her car. Excellent. Add a few bottles to the Jose/Gina wine collection. What can I say, some redheads are in to I Love Lucy, I’m into reasonably priced table wines. A mini photo montage…

Volume 1: She kind of has that Jessica Rabbit thing going on…

Volume 2: Showing her carefree, tropical side. And nothing says “practical” quite like wearing a wispy bikini and a flower sash when you’re born and raised in Prosser, WA…

This year, Volume 3: She’s now a “Lady in Red,” has cropped her hair and donned an elegant hat. If I ever make it to the Kentucky Derby, I shall wear a similar hat.

After we secured safe transport for our wine, we hopped back on the bikes and headed back for the last 25 mile stretch. About ¼ mile down the road, I started wondering if there were weird cracks in the pavement because my ride felt… lumpy. I looked down to discover that I had TWO very flat tires. What the heck?!? “Ah yes, see those giant thorns lodged into your tires?” I said to myself. “Why yes self, I do see them. And they seem to have punctured both tires in about 4 different places. Hey self, good thing you have a patch kit, tire levers and a spare tube just in case!” …. Apparently I walked my bike through a patch of “goat horns” at the rest stop but didn’t know it… it happened to a few other people too. Goat Horns are nasty thorns that grow on a viney cactus-like plant. I’m trying to find a photo to post, but when I google “goat horn” I get an awful lot of weird satanic ritual stuff…

Four tube patches, one snapped Presta valve, then one new spare tube, followed by ANOTHER snapped Presta valve (on new tube), a totally worthless piece of crap hand-pump, a walk back to the rest stop, several minutes of pleading with fellow riders and race volunteers for another spare tube, the acquisition of a floor pump, and some bad-ass tire-changing/fixing/replacing skills I’d aquired by this point, and we were back on the road.

In case you don’t have a road bike, here is a picture of a Presta valve: That skinny little pin-like screw thing at the top is what snapped off twice after we had inflated the patched tires and were trying to take the pump off the valve. So the lesson learned is: Just like a really good horse- the better they are, the more fragile they are. You can knock around a cheap bike tire valve and have no problem at all. Similarly, you can run around on the trails all day on an old hearty quarter horse named, “Buck” and never have to worry about pulled tendons or abscesses. But if you want performance, you’ve got to baby your equipment. Now I know.

Okay, so we’re back on the road, but this time our contact points (which is a nice way of saying, “butts”) were starting to feel the miles. We made it back in decent time, but were a little humbled to be coming into the finish right next to a pace-line of about 6 serious-looking cyclists who were bantering back and forth things like, “Huh, weird, mine says 104…” “Oh, mine says 103.5, we might need to re-calibrate our odometers…” So yeah, we finished the 50 mile ride in the same time as the elite 100 mile riders. But heck- we had about an hour of road side bike maintenance… and we started about 20 minutes late… and we bought wine along the way! I’d venture to say that we had more fun, and had a steeper learning curve with regards to road-side bike repair…

So that was Saturday. Sunday was decidedly less fitness-oriented. Woke up late, and spent a lazy day in Leavenworth, a Bavarian-styled town that seems to have some sort of festival every weekend. Yeah, its kind of cheesy but still fun. The day was made up of eating lots of food, drinking lots of coffee, and poking around in the touristy shops. We both wondered: If there were an “Adult Store” in Leavenworth, would it too be required to adopt a Bavarian theme? And would its employees wear Lederhosen and Dirndls?? Perhaps the world will never know…

I do have a couple of pictures from the ride, but haven’t transferred them to the computer yet, so hold the line… more action shots to come!

When I got home, I was delighted to discover that some CD’s I ordered from amazon.com had finally arrived…. I got Bebel Gilberto Remixed, for those days and nights when I’m feeling like mellow, rhythmic Brazilian music, and Wynonna “What the World Needs Now,” as I seem to be on a Judds kick as of late. I discovered today that Wynonna is performing with the Seattle Symphony on October 11th, and I really want to go… The catch is: I don’t know of anyone in the area who enjoys Wynonna Judd as much as I do, to the extent that they would go to her show with me on a random Tuesday night…. Any takers???

Oh What a Night...

I’m tired and can barely keep my eyes open this morning (which ironically, I think has nothing to do with the concert last night, as it was over at 10:30PM), but thought I’d post a few choice shots from last night’s Neil Diamond concert that I took on my camera phone. The quality isn’t spectacular, but you’ll get the gist.



Here’s the big screen. Does Neil Diamond still look like my father? Check.


And on that note, here is an image for your frame of reference: This is from a Neil Album that I’m guessing came out in the mid to late 70’s. There is a picture of my father around the same time that I can see in my mind right now- I don’t know where it is, but I’ll have to look for it and try to scan it at some point so we can do a point-to-point comparison, but for now, you’ll just have to take my word for it: They look like twins. I have a sneaking suspicion that Neil Diamond might be my long-lost uncle or something….


During one song, I looked over at Allison and I could swear that she was getting watery-eyed. I asked her if she was crying, she said “No, but it he doesn’t play Cracklin’ Rosie, you bet your ass I’ll be crying!”

And the night went on…. Sweet Caroline…. America…. Forever in Blue Jeans…. Play Me…Cherry, Cherry… I Am, I Said… Holy, Holy….You Don’t Bring Me Flowers... on and on and on, but NO Cracklin’ Rosie!

And then the show ended!?! What??? But of course there’s the glimmer of hope that it would be the encore song…. And it WAS!! Followed by Brother Love’s Traveling Salvation Show (Thanks to Joe, I was able to sing along, as I’ve had this song on my iPod now for a few months…).

Needless to say, during Cracklin’ Rosie, Allison was beside herself with joy, I tried to capture that in a photo, but the picture doesn’t really do it justice….

Notably missing from the night’s lineup were Song Sung Blue and Hello Again. He also didn’t play Heartlight, but I really can’t stomach that song with a straight face, so I didn’t mind its omission.

All in all, the night pretty much RULED.

And I bought a T-shirt, a black one that says “Diamond Girl” on the front. I can’t wait to wear it to my next special occasion!

A Few Topics to Ponder

1) Being in various states of undress during fire alarms/drill is no fun at all. Especially when the alarm is piercingly loud, almost to the point of making your ears bleed, and you just can’t find your pants fast enough.
2) If I were a professional singer, I would want to be just like Jennifer Warnes
3) I might meet and fall in love with Neil Diamond tonight.

Explanations:

1) Last night, like every night I got home from work and began my usual homecoming process. I change, check my e-mail until Daphne just can’t put up with waiting any longer, then I head out to the dog park with her. Some days I go straight from the dog park to the gym, other days I come home and do other fun, less physically active things like e-mailing, blogging laundry etc… So last night I was past stage 1-A: I had taken off my work clothes and was checking my e-mail in my socks and underwear. Come to think of it, I guess this is pretty normal for me. I was mid-e-mail-check when out of nowhere, my apartment building’s central fire alarm system went off. Took me a while to figure out what the heck it was- it couldn’t have been my smoke detector- that is a loud, pulsing sound. And I wasn’t making pot-stickers. This was a super loud, ear-piercing, deafening, solid scream. Daphne and I were both looking at each other like, “What the heck did you DO??” Then because I have the opposable thumbs in the relationship, I realized that it was the fire alarm. Crap…. I need some pants! But all I want to do is get the hell away from that SOUND! And I can’t leave Daphne inside to burn, and I need to take her out now anyway, so I’ll just go to the park now. But that requires pants AND a shirt… So I threw on some sweats, a dirty t-shirt that was actually inside out (hey, I can say I was trying to bring that fashion back…) and shoved some shoes on my feet grabbed the leash and mouthed to Daphne, “Let’s Go!” She took off as soon as I opened the door. I was running after her and just as I was about to snap her leash on, I realized that somehow my t-shirt got tucked not only into my pants in the back, but also into my underwear, which were at that point, exposed for the rest of my apartment evacuees to view. Hot.

Lesson Learned: Don’t hang out in your underwear. You never know when you’ll need to flee.

2) I’ve been doing a lot of Karaoke research lately (Hey, even Tiger Woods has to practice chipping and putting...) and I’m trying to put together a book of lyrics to a handful of choice Karaoke favorites, so that rather than focus on the words, I can really focus on the musical flair and style of the song next time I’m up on stage at the Rickshaw Tavern off of Lake City Way. So on my play list are a few classic duets including, but not limited to, “Up Where We Belong” and “I’ve Had The Time Of My Life”. BOTH of these songs feature the vocal stylings of one Miss Jennifer Warnes. Who’s that? Yeah, I didn’t know either. But I know now, because I spent too much of my day today (about 15 minutes) researching her. I have determined that she has the best of both worlds: She is accomplished and respected in the music industry, has worked with an array of musicians and has a few (see above…) big hits to her name, and has had a long (and seemingly stable) career as a professional singer. But she’s not famous. At all really. She’s just a normal person, who has a great voice, and makes a living off it. Neat.

3) No explanation, other than I’m going to his concert tonight, and if things go right, he will catch my room key when I throw it on stage and we’ll make beautiful music together. Don’t worry, I’ve already told Jose about it. He fully supports this effort, saying that if he were me, he’d do the same. Which makes me only a little bit nervous.

Cheers and jeers

Okay- I've seen it on other blogs so here are mine:

Jeers to boys who play video games and try to talk to you on the phone at the same time.

Cheers to Bryers ice cream being "buy one get on free" at QFC.

Jeers to having an entire gallon of ice cream in my freezer right now.

Cheers to getting new bike shoes and clipless pedals both on sale at Performance Bicycling in Bellevue.

Huge jeers to the fact that I can't get my old pedals off because I have a stupid, cheap, lame wrench that fails at it's one job: turning things.

Jeers, (but hindsight cheers) to how many times I'll probably fall on my head while learning to use the clipless pedals.

Jeers to having a biopsy of my cervix yesterday. Probably one of the LEAST comfortable things I've ever experienced.

Cheers to the medications they gave me afterward because it hurt real bad and it made me cry.

Cheers also to the nurse who gave me apple juice in tiny paper cups because it also made me light-headed and dizzy.

Jeers to the MTV show, "My Sweet, Sweet Sixteen" for sucking me in with it's ridiculousness and forcing me to watch it whenever it happens to be on...

Jeers to "Laguna Beach, the real OC" for the very same reasons...

Cheers to "The Mediterranean Kitchen" restaurant in Bellevue where I had lunch with Mamma Hundley today.

Jeers to the garlic and olive oil that will subsequently be seeping from my pours for days.

A piece of really good advice

Dear Readers:

If you only pay attention to one thing that I write on this entire web site, let it be this single piece of advice.If you get back together with your boyfriend after a few months off, never, I repeat NEVER use his computer to check your e-mail when you're home alone at his place.

Even the most self-assured, confident girl in the world just can't help but go looking for trouble. Especially when she knows exactly what she's looking for, having received warnings such as: "no, trust me, you don't want to see pictures from that month- I mean, you can if you want, but I really don't think you'd want to."

Please... that's like telling Carnie Wilson that she doesn't really want a stomach staple, she should just watch her portion sizes. In other words: Of Course its bad for me, but do you really expect me to resist temptation? Please...I'm strong, I'm fine. I know what went on with him, he knows what went on with me. I'll spare the details, but long story short, things were pretty "fair and balanced" when we both came back to the table.

But that doesn't mean that I should see pictures of HER... the only thing that seems right to type right now is... blech.

Extreme fits of nausea/jealousy/ guilt (for having totally violated his privacy and being self-righteous about something that I was in no position to be self-righteous about etc), followed by frantic phone calls to friends themed around, "dangit, what do I do now?!"

So that's the lesson I learned this weekend- just don't do it. But if you DO do it, be prepared for some pretty funky feelings.

And I suppose the second lesson (I know, I told you you’d only need to pay attention to one thing, so feel free to ignore this one) is that being an “adult” with just a few years of emotional maturity under my belt makes me feel…like an actual grown up? But in a proud/gratifying sort of way, not in my usual “oh my god, I really AM getting older everyday… look… my skin is more delicate and less resilient!” sort of way. Because when things like that happen, and I have my immediate, primal “visceral reaction” (as Beth so expertly put it), I am able to reflect on it, and communicate with another human being (specifically, Jose) about the experience, know what support I need at that point (a very large hug and lots of reaffirming language) and be able to accept it with open arms (somewhat literally). More of an emotional hiccup than a rollercoaster.

Ahhhh… Big breath…Okay, enough of this full-circle, emotional, let’s talk about feeeeeelings stuff!

The rest of the weekend was all fun: His friend was getting married and he was in the wedding. So that's the context for the weekend. The wedding started out a little slow for me, because I was dateless for most of the early parts (ah the perils of being the Best Man’s date…) Lot's of pretty flowers, good food, and a GREAT speech by the Best Man (more pride from Gina). Danced like fools at the wedding reception, and at one point I think I was being Peppa’ to some other gal’s Salt on the dance floor. Didn’t ever catch her name- I’m guessing she was a cousin or something from Boston? Nice gal- and fun too! And obviously she shared a similar enthusiasm for lip-syncing to early 90’s girl-rap, which is always good. I tried to teach Jose to two-step, but I really only know how to follow, and poorly at that. So that was a bit of a mess, but still fun.

The best part? My dress was good for twirling! (which secretly made me just want to twirl around all by myself all night, like a 6-yer old in a new party dress, but I didn’t let on...)

There was a second reception at a local hotel, which involved left over’s from the formal reception, random bottles of wine, music blaring from a little stereo plugged into the wall, and piecing together suitable hot-tub attire from existing boxer-briefs, t-shirts etc. The somewhat (okay, very) creepy photographer stayed for that part too, which seemed… odd. Having a strange suspicion that most of THOSE shots are never going to show up in any wedding photo-albums. But perhaps in his personal collection? Some pictures:Leaving the church: Will a sword arch ever NOT remind me of the wedding scene in Sound of Music?
Yes, this is the same dress as the weekend before. Shhhhhh….


The strangest thing happened the next morning. Jose and I went to the Mass service for the family and wedding party. That involved waking up and getting out of the house on the early side of a Sunday morning. I know!?! Crazy! It was actually kind of a nice thing to do on a Sunday morning. And the priest, who came all the way from Boston for the wedding was really easy to listen to. His sermon was on forgiveness, which seemed timely. And then we had brunch, which by 11:30, was both timely AND tasty.

The afternoon plan was to go for a long bike ride, to get ready for the 50 mile ride that we signed up for in two weeks (which is going to kick both of our butts) but we only made it about 10 miles before he blew a tire. Thankfully, my trusty bike repair skills that I acquired as of late kicked in to full gear and I was able to get the tire off the wheel, patch the tube and get the tire/tube set back ON the wheel. Hurrah! Today I’m thinking of going to REI to get clipless peddles and bike shoes- a big investment, but one that I’ve been thinking about for quite some time now.

If you’d like to sponsor me on my bike ride, please feel free!! It’s the Mike Utley Foundations Dam2Dam bike ride to raise money for spinal cord injury research. He was a Coug and played football for WSU in the late 80s’, before playing for the Detroit Lions. He was injured during a game and paralyzed but has remained an athlete ever since. So if you’re a Cougar too, you should give twice!! So… if you want to donate, please click here: http://www.mikeutley.org/shop/product.esiml?PID=4

So, if you've got anything left over after donating to everything else these days, I'd really appreciate your support!!

Giving credit where it is due:

Being the ungrateful harlot that I am, I totally forgot to acknowledge a nice thing. Close your eyes and think back to a post I made many moons ago (or maybe a week and a half ago) that was nothing more than random thoughts. One in particular was:

"When I'm rich and fabulous, I'm going to hire a service to clean my car (inside and out) once a week. I dislike having a dirty car. But I dislike cleaning it more."

Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy the fact that people read my blog, but when they actually read INTO my blog, and do nice things for me, well that’s just unexpected joy! I love givers.

So- if you stayed with me last week and washed my car and vacuumed/detailed/armor-all’d the interior/organized the crap in the back seat etc, while I was at work then this message is for you: THANKYOU! I liked it.

More wedding joys!

Thank goodness someone took some photos of the reception… By the time I reached the salad course I had used up all of my camera’s memory card. I guess I took too many wine-induced self portraits the night before after the rehearsal dinner… Oh well, that’s what friends are for J I’ve chosen a selection of four of the BEST photos of myself- the ones that really capture those feelings of, “Damnit! Why did the shutter have to close at that particular moment?!?” And “Does my face really make that expression in real life? If so, why hasn’t anyone asked me to stop making it yet?”

This first one was taken as the inspiration for a new cocktail that Brooke and I invented- It has a real snappy name and is going to be a pink drink with floaty things on top that get stuck in your teeth. Shaved coconut or muttled mint leaves were the initial ideas.

Witness the creation of this year’s vintage sorority girl. Note how she is aged for 27-29 years in Oak Barrels to enhance her natural fruitiness. Subtle flavors and nuances are developed when she poses in a large group of her peers under the direction of boyfriends and husbands shouting: “Oh yes Fraulein, make Laaaahv to zie caaamraaah… You must get closah togezeh to really make this vurk… “ in Uber-fake German accents. More like a Falko-esque Austrian accent really.
Is that my o-face?? Yikes. Better work on that.

I have no witty tag-line to add to this one other than: Enjoy. (but it does capture the essence of “I spilled wine all over me!”)


I call this one, “Grumplestiltskin” or “Was I getting Scarlet Fever or was that the tannins in the wine?” or maybe, “Am I really a cranky 6-year old trapped in the body of a fun-loving 27-year old?”


And I’m including this one because it is good of me, and I need to feel better about myself now.

Baby Hair Continued...

To follow up on my last post that included a photo of a baby with a Mohawk (I know, I know, it wasn’t really a Mohawk, that was just he way his hair was growing in…) I thought I’d post a couple of celebrity fauxhawk shots for your comparing and contrasting pleasure. In case you don’t want to scroll ALL the way down, here he is again, to refresh your memory: I just hope that no one ever criticizes the child at the wedding by looking at him and saying something, “Shyeah, that’s soooo 2003!
The One Who Started It All: Becks


The Child who will likely never outgrow the title of, “The adopted son of Angelina Jolie”, Maddox
(is it me, or has this child not aged a wink since he was adopted?)

Appreciating things, including my health.

I don’t want to jinx myself by saying that I appreciate my health, but after seeing so much destruction caused by this hurricane, and being completely unscathed its hard not to appreciate an awful lot of things. But one in particular that gets special notice today is my health. I just cringe to think of all of those affected by this hurricane even more they are confined to their own poor health. I appreciate my body. I appreciate my legs that can run away from scary things and my arms that can swim/paddle/move heavy objects. I appreciate my lungs that breathe unaided, and my blood that keeps its glucose levels and cholesterol levels on auto-pilot without a trip to the pharmacy. My eyes don’t even need contacts lenses (and associated accoutrements) to see clearly. I am appreciating the fact that maybe I should keep at least one day’s worth of food in my house… (which is difficult when Daphne eats it all at once on the rare occasion that I forget to lock the fridge!). I suppose my biggest take home messages to myself on all of this have been:1) take care of your body, keep it in good, working condition 2) Breastfeed your babies. I want to throw-up when I think about all of those babies that are starving in the absence of formula and/or clean water to mix it with 3)_________________________. Still working on a third. I know its in there, but it hasn’t set yet.

Man Alive.


And all this on top of a great Labor Day weekend. I’m not going to apologize for having a great time this weekend at Beth’s wedding. In wedding-land, the biggest disaster was the 4:00 shuttle to the Winery never showing at the Hotel to pick up half of the wedding guests. But the biggest triumph was getting the operations manager of Le Grande Affaire (yes, there really were that many “e’s” ) on the horn and assertively telling him that I didn’t give a rat’s ass what the contract did or didn’t specify, that he needed to make a 28-passenger shuttle magically appear at the San Jose Fairmont to bring said 28 passengers to the Winery…. 20 minutes ago!!!! So, while we can’t say that the wedding got off without a hitch, we CAN say that the wedding, while getting started a few minutes late, was FABULOUS in its entirety. Okay, I don’t think I used the term “rat’s ass.” I think I said something more to the effect of: “Sir, the language of the contract at this point, or who’s misinterpretation of it is causing this problem, is really NOT of interest to me. What I need are wedding guest. Here. Now.”

Other than that, I just did what I was told to do which required a delicious non-existent amount of leadership on my part. Its super easy to be a bride’s maid when the bride is as on-the-ball as Beth.

To protect the innocent, I am not going to post photos here, but if you want to the link to my album, I’d be glad to e-mail it to you. I will however, post some of the nicer shots of yours truly on wedding eve…

But here is one from the rehearsal dinner. I don’t normally like to exploit children, but his hair was growing in with a Mohawk flair, and I have to give the kid credit for pulling off the look almost as well as David Beckham himself.
and I’ve always wanted to black out people’s eyes….

After the rehearsal dinner, and after several bottles of wine were shared among our tablemates, we went out in San Jose. Here is Kelly trying to fill me with the love of Jesus by baptizing me in a fountain in town. I heard that Beth’s friends Laura and John go to that church where you go all the way in the water. In your underpants. For Jesus of course. But I didn’t get any photos of that. Sorry Erik.

Here we are after my conversion.


Ah, good times.