Seriously guy?

Driving down the street last night to go to a friend's mini-fete, the anti-Monday Night Foosball event for women, and what do I see? Christmas trees in the Walgreens window. Seriously? It's September 27.

I hope to secure a pic later today. Yet another reason to carry my camera every where I go.

Can't... eat... any... more...

*plunk*

I think I just fell over from eating too much good food out on the town. Yes, I have enlarged to the size of Violet in Willy Wonka (the original, haven't seen the remake yet because I am so up on modern hip culture can't you see) due to multiple dinnerslunchesbreakfastescoffeesextravaganza over the past week. I may be in a carb coma. Yes, I think I am.

What normally is a eat out once a month type of girl was transformed into an every night porker. Oink. We headed downtown on Friday. Can I just say that downtown is fun, when you have fun people to be with, but when you are trying to find a $5 per hour parking spot because the $8 per hour parking spot is just too much to pay, and you have 2.6 seconds to get to the meeting of a lifetime, or at least this minute, it is a bit unnerving. Usually streams of curse words followed by the official language of pirates comes out of my mouth at times like these.

So we are downtown for a gala, a fete, a shindig. One that required fancypants. It's a prom on crack secretly disguised as a networking event. There are women with unnaturally large hair and men with equally unnatural orange "tans." About 30 gazillion people were crammed into a little space with music blaring. We were told there would be cocktails and heavy appies. Drink tickets were assured. We bee-lined to the bar only to be to told that the "tickets" were for those tables over there, a bartend in polyester vest points to the other side of the room. OK, now we're getting somewhere. We saunter over to the said tables and present our drink ticket. In return we were handed a 3 oz sample of a Coors product.

Puh-lease, we live IN Colorado. We know what Coors products taste like. Coors was a staple in college. I am well versed in the intricacies of Blue Moon versus Coors Light. A sample is not what I need. I need a vodka tonic. Damnit. Thankfully, the angel that is my client and her darling hub came as well. Little talking into required and we found ourselves skipping out on The Networking Event Of The Year and headed over to Rodizio's, aka The Meat Place. Or the Place that Serves the Meat on a Stick. Yum.

Several pounds of meat and many laughs later, we headed home. The next night, my BFF Kate and Wonder Twin Andrew came down from the mountains and we got to meet up with them in Golden. Golden is where they make the Coors. Is it coming together for ye ol' networking event planners? There are few late night establishments in Golden. Weird. But we found the one with late night hours and live musak on Saturdays and made a jolly time of it. In fact, any time with them is jolly and we found ourselves laughing and eating far too many appetizers and little actual "food."

Sunday we somehow managed to eat chicken at home. Monday was a dinner/meeting involving lasagne. Then Tuesday. Oink Tuesday. Morning breakfast meeting at the delicious Zaidy's, with far too many potatoes, a delish bagel and fresh strawberry preserves. Hubby's work peeps invited us to dinner at Maggiano's Tuesday eve. Maggiano's is Italian for my grandmother shoving food down my throat. But free food is free food. Several tons of linguini with clam sauce and a bottle of Santa Margherita later, passing out was in order. Oh, yes, and I had a business lunch at Maggiano's the next day. Joy. The smell of it made me want to gag. But I mustered up the courage to eat salad and tiramisu. Somehow. It's all a blur now.

Because they let you take home the family style leftovers, we have 16 pounds of Maggiano's ling with clam sauce, gnocchi with vodka sauce and Dog knows what else in the fridge. So what do we have for dinner? Maggiano's. Someone call the Oompa Loompa's, I need to be squeezed.

hair today, gone tomorrow

Oh, yes I did. Eeek!

Inspired by change? Boredom? Crazy? You decide. But I like it. Me. The One Who Doesn't Cut Her Hair. Yes, that one.

before...


after...


And just for fun, both taken while wearing the same dress. I think it's a wee bit more professional, plus, think of the money I'll save on hair care products?!

*

On another note, my BBF Kate is here! She's in Colorado! She doesn't have access to the internets or she would post something, email someone, or just look at websites all day. Feel sorry for her would ya? She lives in a pristine setting, with pine trees, changing Aspens, clear blue skies, quiet evenings, nice neighbors, and she has to tolerate all that plus no internet access. It's barbarian, I tells ya.

I remember.

I've been processing this for the past few days. I wanted to post something on Sunday, but I was out of town and the words just wouldn't come to me.

*

I remember that day and the days that followed were unbelievably beautiful here in Colorado. I think Mother Nature was trying to sooth us with her beauty, but the stark contrast between what we witnessed and the clear blue skies only magnified the feelings of loss. The absence of air traffic in cloudless skies was deafening. It was like we were all on hold, suspended in the calm light of a crisp September.

I remember watching it happen on tv, raw and unedited at first. Reporters and anchors who normally blathered on about the weather in Topeka, the latest fashion trend or interviews with inconsequential celebrities were silenced with shock. Slowly, over the next few days, their graphics departments were on it with the Official Network Graphic for The Attack on America. If the first few hours and days were nothing but reality, the time after was Reality with a Logo.

I remember thinking about the time I went to NYC in 1993 to visit a then-boyfriend. He took me to the WTC so I could see the city from the outdoor observation deck on the 110th floor. We were out of luck. It was overcast that day, so we found ourselves inside, suspended in the clouds. I had to go up to the window and look down to see anything but clouds. At the time, I thought how un-fucking-believably high up we were. It wasn't natural to me, a girl from the Wide Open West, with buildings that top out half the height. But there we stood, 107 floors up, separated from the heavy grey clouds by a seemingly thin piece of glass.

I remember feeling that nothing would be the same again. Sure, we would all go back to the automatic motions of life, but we'd all be a just a little... tilted. The same yet a little different. A little more paranoid. A little more unsettled. A little more grateful for being alive. A little more guilty over things left undone. Laughter stopped. Kindness began. Hope held up a tiny hand, pleading with us to listen.

I remember that this was the beginning for me. It was the time I started thinking about my future life. Looking back, I suppose it was when I decided to start my own business, in the far back corner of my mind. A year later I began taking business classes at night. I began doing research on how to run a business. I began taking risks I never had the guts to take Before.

Should I feel guilty for this? Some days I do. Most of the time I believe it is my responsibility to live as passionately as I can. To laugh. To love. To hope. To be kind. To help others. To give. This is how I remember.

USA, a division of Harpo, Inc.

We're watching the highbrow Entertainment Tonight last night while making dinner. There's a piece on Oprah touring New Orleans and crying, yelling, getting rather pissed off at what she sees. The voice over says that she is doing a special series of shows on the disaster and is really upset.

More than Big Oil, more than Halliburton, more than the religious right, the person they should never, ever, ever, ever piss off is the big O.

I look at hubby and say, 'uh oh, now they've done it, they've pissed off Oprah."

And he says, "That's a mistake. Now Oprah's gunna buy the government."

Somewhere in Mississippi, Oprah is standing there, irritated, checkbook in hand, saying "how much you want for it, bitches?"

Boots or Guns? Someone cry for me.

It is largely known in Colorado that Labor Day weekend is the start of ski equipment season. Not wanting to be left behind without the latest (read: last year's) ski equipment, we headed over to the local sporting good store to gear up. What a fricken good weekend to do this, no? Gosh, I felt like such an ass. But a sale is a sale, and I am a Bargain Hound. (The frugalist of the hounds.)

This is the first time we've made the commitment to ski equipment. We've always been renters. But we've saved our pennies and sucked it up to make the one time (hopefully) investment. While we were going through the mostly white* and completely bizarre ritual of trying on ski boots**, I paused to look up at the gun display. Hmm. Guns. Up until last week I would have laughed at the idea of owning a gun. I am, after all, a Bleeding Heart Liberal and Card Carrying Member of the ACLU with the Subaru Outback wagon to prove it. And, I must say, pretty damn proud of all three statements. I love the Bill of Rights and the entire Constitution. I keep a copy by my bed for light reading. I believe it is supposed to be for every citizen, not just the haves. I'm one of those dorks who gets off reading the Federalist Papers. I geeked out over the movie 'National Treasure.'

So now is my chance to take advantage of the 2nd Amendment. I have that right, don't I? It occurred to me, wait, several things occurred to me while looking at the gun display... first, I would have no clue whatsoever how to buy a gun. Do you just buy one like you would fresh produce in the grocery store? Hmmm, that one seems ripe, I'll take it. Or is there a special way to do it? I've heard about the waiting period. Hubby and I felt like tourists in the ski equipment department, dorkily asking if there was a difference in the brands, cost, size. We don't know, we just get what the people at the rental shop give us. So what if my feet are uncomfortable. Would we end up with a bad gun purchase as well? Second, I would have even fewer clues on how to operate a gun. When I was a kid at camp, we got to shoot a rifle at targets, as well as learn archery, which is a little used but valuable skill, I would speculate. What can I say, I was a tomboy. That's my experience with guns and ammo. Third, I would have no idea what a "good price" or a "good value" would be for a "good weapon." Fourth, what if I shoot my eye out?

Last, it occurred that if I were to get a gun, I might as well go all out and stock up on water and canned goods. Actually, my real thought was to see how much land in the middle of BFE would cost us, build a compound, and live off the grid. Cus there are some really freaky people in this world, and most of them hold public office.

* Don't believe me? Spend an hour at a ski equipment store and count the number of non-whites you see. I dare ya. Edited to clarify: It seems as if most of the time, white people are the only ones stupid enough to plunk down $1500 to slide face first down the side of a frozen mountain. Am I the only one to notice this? Screw it, I'm not going to apologize for stating the obvious.
** It's like watching constipated emus walk around, trying to get shit off their feet/paws/peds.

Taking off the gloves.

Those who know me IRL know that I am passionately political when it comes to certain issues. I try not to bring politics into this blog, because I want to talk about my life, my business and my hounds. But when the leader of the free world issues a big fat up yours to the people in desperate, horrible, obvious conditions, struggling to survive, I have to take the gloves off. This is not about politics. This is about people. This is about keeping promises. This is about learning from our past and preparing for the future.

We've all seen the images. The horror. The lack of effort being made to save people. To feed people. To keep people safe in a crisis. We've seen the president on vacation. Golfing. Playing guitar. Eating cake. I've seen on tv the hundreds of people yet to be evacuated from the friggin hospitals for Christ sake, still in their gowns, just laying around like cattle, IV's held up by each other and I know that could have been me three weeks ago. How horrible that must be. How shameful. When I was in the hospital, I couldn't get up to go to the bathroom by myself, let alone be expected to sit on a roof waiting for rescue. I was drugged up, but still in pain every time I tried to move. I didn't have my glasses. I didn't even have underwear. Imagine going to the hospital for emergency surgery like I did, only to end up held hostage waiting for rescue. Before surgery, the doctor told me I had the option of treating it with anti-biotics, which he didn't recommend unless I was in a third world country and needed to get back to America for surgery. Well guess what, we've got a third world country on the Gulf Coast and no one but the mayors, governors and reporters on the ground seems to get it.

I was on the phone last night with a friend who is African-American. We both discussed the situation and agreed it was shameful. I pointed out that the largest, most industrialized, most powerful nation, with the largest military complex and most resources available could not get 20,000, 50,000, 100,000 people out of NO five days after the disaster. Why? How wrong is that? He agreed. He knew. The huge elephant in the room that some in the MSM are just starting to talk about is the race issue. These are poor people. These are poor black people.

So now people, Americans, are dying, in the streets of America on national tv like they are reporting from another country, another planet even. The nation, the world, is watching in horror. In disbelief. In despair.

I hope, yes, hope, that we are approaching The Tipping Point. I've often wondered what it would take for the sedated SUV-driving-I-care-so- much-because-I-put-a-yellow-ribbon-magnet-on-my-car-see?-just-give-me-another-beer-and-tonights-episode-of-American-Idol-and-don't-bother-me-with-elections common every day Americans. And don't get me started on the media, the butt kissing, yes-sirs without a hard question in their vocabularies. But last night on FOX-friggin-News, they were actually asking the tough questions. Then on CNN, I saw the same thing. And last night on Nightline, Ted Kopple was holding the FEMA director's feet to the fire, asking why this was happening, why did Shrub say the most ignorant statement of his presidency (which is saying a lot) of "no one knew the levees were going to break." Ted was all, WTF, we were talking about this on MONDAY. And then he was pushing Mr. FEMA on why he kept talking about what they were going to do. Finally, this morning on Good-fricken-Morning America, they were repeating the questions, they were talking about the cut in funding to the Corps of Engineers budget to repair the levees. Charles Gibson actually asked Mr. FEMA if anyone in the federal government watches tv or reads the newspapers, cus they've been reporting hell for a week. I kid you not, I thought that Air America had taken over the airways.

And don't just think this is about the lack of leadership from the White House. Where the hell are any of our leaders? Democrat or Republican. All I get are emails to send money to the Red Cross. Gee, thanks genius. Wow. That's an effort there. I can do that. America has no real leaders. You know what, let's elect the mayor of New Orleans as president. The man has not left the city. He has thrown down the facade of politics and is speaking like a human being, frustrated, pissed off and honest. If it wasn't so horrible, it would be refreshing. Or maybe one of the reporters on the ground, who are crying on tv, sickened by the conditions? Or how about Harry Connick, Jr, who is driving around NO as I type wondering why the NG can't do the same?

The Director of Homeland Security? Hello? Anyone home? Wasn't this supposed to be "your thing?" Boy, I sure feel safe now. If terrorists hit us now, God help us. I'm not a fan of guns, but I'm seriously thinking about building up my own arsenal and food supply since Red Dawn and Mad Max have converged on a major American city and the Worlds Only Superpower(TM) can't do a damn thing about it.

I am shamed by the lack of action, the lack of compassion and the lack of humanity coming from the people we depend on to keep us safe in times like these. I am heartened by the millions of Americans who are offering their homes and own lives to help those affected. I don't judge America by its leaders, I know we are better than that. But I certainly expect them to lead.