I'm sorry, my darlings-- I had intended to do at least a late post last week, since I was on the road Monday, but since I was felled by the stomach virus/food poisoning/whatever it was, I simply didn't have the energy.

But David and his Very Big Billboard are imploring me to make it up to you.



Personally, while he doesn't totally do it for me, I do love that the boy knows how to dress himself, when the occasion demands.



( As usual, more pretties behind the cut. )

And speaking of looking good in a suit as well as out of it, Dark Knight opens on the 18th. How excited am I? I'm not a particular fangirl of the franchise, but I love, love, love what Christopher Nolan has done with this iteration of Batman and of course, Christian. Pretty, pretty Christian.

AKA, Guess who's home?

Hey, we could be related!



The new Dynamic Duo



Excuse me, but do I know you?



I am so blissed out, I can't even begin to tell you. We have a fluffy Pisces-girl!

Yes, they're very cute and in all likelihood harmless.

Yes, they were in your yard (at least that's where they started out) and there were people with them.

However...

There are other people in the neighborhood (like me) who enjoy walking their own dogs (as I do) and those dogs are just this side of puppy and are still learning their manners (hence the walking, on a leash, with a very short lead for control even).

All of the above is not license to allow your very small, very cute, and obviously very untrained puppy to go charging at my (much larger) puppy. See, my (much larger) puppy sees it as an invitation to play, which results in my having to hold her back while your obviously very untrained puppy goes tearing around your yard and neighbors' yards and the (thankfully quiet) street, in frenzied exuberance. Now if you were familiar with my puppy, I might let her have a longer lead and allow to her play, as she so desperately wants to, because she is the friendliest soul on the planet and hasn't ever met a doggie or human she doesn't want to play with. However, since you're not familiar with my puppy, all you see is seventy pounds of large black dog desperately wanting to get at your (obviously untrained, since she ignores your calls and seems to think that your running towards her is some new! fun! game! that gives her permission to run ever further afield) puppy.

Thankfully, I am a rather strong individual (plus, short leash and walking harness and all that) and I've been working on my puppy's manners, so after the initial burst of excitement, she heeded the command to sit and waited patiently as you chased your small (and yes, very cute and I'd hate to see anything happen to her) puppy across three yards and the street, I'm sure hoping the entire time, that a car wouldn't round the bend.

Just a word of advice—if she's that bad about listening, keep her on a lead when you're in an unfenced front yard where any manner of cars, people, and yes, other large dogs might be passing by. Just because she's small, doesn't mean you shouldn't take the same responsibilities that those of us with large black dogs do. In the end, it makes everyone's life so much more pleasant.

No love,

Me.

I know, I know, there's not much I don't talk about or have an opinion on or, you know, share, because I have a big mouth like that, but what the heck. Right now all I'm doing is laundry and waiting for the home visit people to come later this morning to ascertain we're not axe murderers and can be trusted with another dog with a nice side of twitching for other reasons.

So go ahead, if you have some burning question about me you want answered, fire away. Now behave—if it's something I don't feel comfortable answering, I'll go all celebrity on your asses and issue a "no comment."

(Sort of like Madonna and A-Rod... tell me there's not something going on there.)

ETA: Home visit has been accomplished. We're not axe murderers, YAY! We'll probably go to meet Pisces on Sunday and if all goes well, we'll probably be bringing her back home with us.

Which is why I haven't posted much about it, but we're having the home visit from the adoption people on Thursday and presuming they decide we're not axe murderers, I should be picking up the fluffy Pisces girl by the weekend.

So the meme going around, at cynthialord's request, is that we post pictures of our hometowns.

It's an odd exercise for me. I was born in NYC and have lived in several places, not all of them what I would consider to be hometowns. So I'll post pictures of the ones that I claim.

First, my original hometown: ( North Miami, FL )

So, next on our tour is my current hometown, ( Jacksonville, FL )

So, where did I leave my heart? (Well, a piece of mine is always going to be in the Bay Area, but I never technically lived there-- cursed bad timing and all that). But the place that has felt most like home outside of Miami is, oddly enough, Hudson, OH. (Caro's hometown in Accent was completely based on Hudson.) Nifty town about halfway between Cleveland and Akron with more a New England vibe than a Midwest one, because of its origins as part of the original Connecticut Western Reserve. It's so picturesque, it almost doesn't feel real, but it still had an air of quirkiness that gave it a bit of a Northern Exposure sort of vibe. For me, it was about the most perfect place I've ever lived that didn't have palm trees and the scent of salt on the air.

Main Street. (Yes, it's really called Main Street.)



( More Hudson )

One road home...



And another...

If anyone has sent me an email or I haven't responded to something, it's not because I don't care or I'm blowing y'all off-- rather, it's that I'm in the mountains of Western North Carolina, retrieving rugrats from their grandparents' and suffering a righteous case of what I suspect is some sort of food poisoning or a stomach virus.

It makes driving the twisty roads of Western NC an adventure, lemme tell ya.

And aimeejmc? Not at all sure if you got my email, but yes, I love you, yes, I love the dress, more's the pity that color looks like ass on me. *pouts and goes back to feeling green*


Oh, and thanks to my darling Hub and our upcoming sixteenth wedding anniversary, I now have the perfect earrings for my RITA dress.

(Thanks to newport2newport for the head's up on the story)

So São Paolo Fashion Week has been in full swing and as is to be expected in one of the capitols of hedonism, swimwear shows are a big draw and it's one of these shows that has drawn some unexpected and I would guess, unwanted attention. It would seem that model Karolina Kurkova, best known as one of the Victoria's Secret Angels, is being blasted by the Brazilian media as "fat" due in part to her recent romp down the catwalk. Among other media outlets, the Huffington Post picked up the story and is running a poll on what readers think. This poll is stupid on the same level as the recent MSNBC poll on romance was stupid, in that choices were horribly skewed. For the MSNBC poll, the question of "Do you read romance?" was given three options:

* Yes, yes, yes! Bodice-rippers are my ultimate escape.
* No way. I don't touch those books.
* Sometimes, while on vacation or at the beach.

Isn't that nice? If you're an avid reader of romance novels, you had to identify yourself as saying you "read bodice rippers." Apparently, the only way romance novels are permissible are as a guilty pleasure.

Likewise, the HuffPo poll on Karolina Kurkova gave three options and none of them offer what could be the most plausible alternative (although they at least give the option for saying she looks fantastic).

So with the question being, "What do you think of Karolina Kurkova?" the options are:

* She looks fantastic

* She looks great, but I see that she's a little heavy for a runway models

* She got fat

Admittedly, option two, given the stupid expectations for runway models, is a not unrealistic choice, however, one of the options given should have been, "She's not fat, but she's definitely not fit."

Here are the offending pictures in question for which she's being called on cellulite, a big butt, and back fat.



By contrast, a picture from a Victoria's Secret runway show:



The "back fat" is obviously created by the arched manner in which she hits a pose and the exaggerated model-sway of her walk. And looking at her, she is definitely not fat-- her figure is actually rather good (the Brazilian media said something about "love handles" to which I replied "WHERE?) and hell's bells, my thighs should only have ever looked that good.

Thing is, though, she has absolutely no tone whatsoever. My guess is girlfriend's never had to exercise a day in her life and now that she's in her mid-twenties, her metabolism is changing and gravity is beginning its inexorable slide downward, especially in the area of the gluteus maximus. Never mind that's also a butt ugly, if you'll forgive the pun, bathing suit with the bottom cut in a manner designed to flatter no one other than maybe a five year-old. IJS.

Given that a São Paolo-born model, Ana Carolina Reston died less than two years ago from complications from anorexia and bulimia, one would think the fashion media would take more care in choosing their words. But then again, the fashion industry has not historically been known for their kindness and sympathy towards young women.

After all, there are always going to be others to replace her.

He would've been yanking on those extensions, yelling "It's a man, baby!"

Although perhaps this look is more stripper special occasion than it is drag queen. Whaddaya think?

There are days I wonder if Miss Jasmine doesn't think she's a Very Large Cat. Except... she's far too willing to be goofy and silly to be a cat. No... she's just pure Lab puppy.

I present as evidence, examples A & B:

But... but... it's a big rubber ball! And it has bells! Makes noises! And rolls! And it makes noises!

Imagine my surprise when I went to carry this box out the front door and was stopped by a rather baleful glare.

Or does Beyoncé's younger sister Solange look like a particularly unattractive drag queen? (With sincere apologies to the drag queens of my acquaintance, who are all much better at applying makeup and have much better taste than to wear that orange monstrosity.)

This popped up on iTunes, and it immediately brought George to mind. This one's for you, Mr. Carlin. It's been a long, trippy ride, man.



Mott the Hoople and the Game of Life. Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Andy Kaufman in the wrestling match. Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Monopoly, twenty one, checkers, and chess. Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Mister Fred Blassie in a breakfast mess. Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Let's play Twister, let's play Risk. Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
See you in heaven if you make the list. Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah

Hey Andy, did you hear about this one? Tell me, are you locked in the punch?
Hey Andy, are you goofing on Elvis? Hey baby, are we losing touch?
If you believed they put a man on the moon, man on the moon
If you believe there's nothing up my sleeve, then nothing is cool

Moses went walking with the staff of wood. Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Newton got beaned by the apple good. Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Egypt was troubled by the horrible asp. Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Mister Charles Darwin had the gall to ask. Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah

Hey Andy, did you hear about this one? Tell me, are you locked in the punch?
Hey Andy, are you goofing on Elvis? Hey baby, are you having fun?
If you believed they put a man on the moon, man on the moon
If you believe there's nothing up my sleeve, then nothing is cool

Here's a little agit for the never-believer. Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Here's a little ghost for the offering. Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Here's a truck stop instead of Saint Peter's. Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Mister Andy Kaufman's gone wrestling (wrestling bears). Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah

Hey Andy, did you hear about this one? Tell me, are you locked in the punch?
Hey Andy, are you goofing on Elvis? Hey baby, are we losing touch?
If you believed they put a man on the moon, man on the moon
If you believe there's nothing up my sleeve, then nothing is cool

If you believed they put a man on the moon, man on the moon
If you believe there's nothing up my sleeve, then nothing is cool
If you believed they put a man on the moon, man on the moon
If you believe there's nothing up my sleeve, then nothing is cool
If you believed they put a man on the moon, man on the moon
If you believe there's nothing up my sleeve, then nothing is cool

Because, you know, why not, right?

We'll start with 27 Dresses and the lovely James Marsden. He was appealing enough as Cyclops in the X-Men films, but you know, I was kind of distracted by Hugh as Wolverine and Cyclops as a character has always had such a stick up his butt. But in 27 Dresses he was soooo charming and adorable and witty and snarky. Gotta love that in a guy.




And going for the pure beefcake Cabana Boy...



Moving along now (Although I love Ed Burns, he just kind of irritated me in this movie, so I'm skipping him. Besides, there's ( plenty of Cabana Boy goodness to be seen )

Now, to make up for the indignity poor Selah had to suffer, a pretty pic of Jensen, since, yanno, for her, a day without Jensen is like a day without sunshine. And look-- he's smiling, even!



And just because this tickled me no end, I found this morphthing some crazed person had done of Jensen and Jared and I looked at it, sort of stunned, because I'll be damned if it doesn't look exactly like a young and very pretty James Spader. I mean, seriously, doesn't it?

Well, after a bit of chaos and a sleepless night beforehand, I got the rugrats onto a plane to North Carolina where they will be visiting their grandparents for the next ten days.

Which means, that aside from the four-legged children, the Hub and I are, you know, alone.

Of course, he had to close at work yesterday, so I came home and found myself with the ability to do anything I wanted. So I changed into my jammies, made some lunch, and settled in to catch up on a bunch of movies.

( Ruminations behind the cut because I babbled at length. Also, slightly spoilerish. )

So anyhow, I was able to wrap up my movie watching on a positive note (thank you, strangerface for the enthusiastic rec!) and retire to my room with my trashy US magazine and become a space geek, watching the NASA miniseries on Discovery.

Tonight, the Hub and I go on a real date. We're going to the Jax Beach installment of Roy's Restaurant. Hawaiian Martini and seared Ahi, here I come!

Now or Never:



So She Dances:



Breathe:




Kinda nifty, really.

Gakked from szandara. I don't know that I'm all THAT brave, but whatev, *g*

Your result for The Fashion Style Test...

Catwalk God(ess)

52% Flamboyance, 67% Originality, 63% Deliberateness, 50% Sexiness

Take The Fashion Style Test at HelloQuizzy

It's 97 degrees outside. And humid in that way that leaves you seeing shimmery heatwaves and produces insta-headaches. And I'd been running errands all morning. All I wanted was to park outside PetSmart and get new toys for Jasmine and some coat spray for my poor itchy Mooshu. I was thrilled when I saw a spot that was very close to the front of the store. But parking proved to be a bit of a challenge. Because you had decided, for whatever reason, that the ass end of your car needed to extend into the space behind it, thereby shortening the space to the point where my smallish car couldn't fit without sticking out into the lot.

I was Not Pleased.

Your crappy parking job was either a prime example of why you have no business driving a large SUV or a stunning example of over-entitled fuckwittery.

You know, I'm going to go with option number two. You know why?

This is why.




And as if the giant window sticker wasn't enough to let us know that she's a Mary Kay Commando, take note of the license plate that not-so-subtly lets us know she's a successful Mary Kay Commando and no doubt deserving of multiple parking spaces.

Feh.

I need to unearth my story with the Mar-bots and post it up next time we do a blog tour or something.

ETA: As if my darling CP Selah and I needed any more proof that we do, indeed, share a brain...

She Posted on her blog today and hand to God, I hadn't read it before posting mine.

I swear

Thanks to szandara looks like I have nextthis year's RITA dress. *g*

Because seriously, when a vintage shop has fallen on hard times and has a 50% off everything sale... it's kind of my civic duty as a fashionista to help out, right?

Right.




Civic duty, I swear!