Worst/Best

This just embarrasses me (hit "enter webpage" and you'll see what I mean).

This makes me feel much better :)

News from the cube

Last week, my friend and fellow cube-dweller Clinical Research Girl played a practical joke on her boss, Captain No Jeans on Casual Friday, and hid his keys. The Captain prides himself on NEVER losing track of his belongings, so this was a hysterical move by Clinical Research Girl.

Except that Clincal Research Girl FORGOT about her prank. At the end of the day she gave a jaunty wave to The Captain, left the office, and boarded a plane for a business trip to one of those frozen tundra states that doesn't have Starbucks. The keys remained in her desk.

Approximately one half-hour later, The Captain, panicked by the unprecedented loss of access to his car, his house, and quite possibly his mind, did what any of us would do in that situation. He called upstairs to the Corporate Vice President and asked for a ride home. Perhaps you have to know the players, but that is funny stuff.

I'm told that eventually, through a series of phone calls involving building maintenance, the Department of Homeland Security, the Cambridge Parks & Recreation Department, and Mrs. Captain's Great Uncle Abner (who was called in to take care of the kids), The Captain finally reached his assistant Post-It Girl, who saved the day with her in-depth knowlege of Clinical Research Girl's forgotten scheme.

Honestly, we haven't had this much fun here in cubetown since The Captain walked into his office door and gave himself a black eye.

When less is more...or less

Okay, I heard you - no more news links for awhile, I promise! It may say a little something about yesterday's state of mind that I found the whole Turkey Testicle Festival thing so entertaining to begin with. But today is a new day! On to the excitement:

My beloved pup Kylie went to the groomer for her quarterly day of beauty. She's part afghan, so maintenance of all that long fur gets a bit unwieldy if I let it go for too long. Once - only once - I thought, "I can save some money and do this myself!" I bought a pair of barber shears, placed my visibly anxious dog on the kitchen table, and confidently lopped yards and miles and tons of blonde dog hair from her trembling torso. When I was done, she looked like a Flowbee victim; I expected to hear from the SPCA by sundown.

So now I leave it to the professionals. This time, I asked them to cut the fur around her ears a little shorter, as it grows really fast (nothing on this dog functions in an even or predictable manner, other than her personality - which, if kept sated with tissues and recently worn socks, is unerringly sweet). Unfortunately, Groomer Girl took my instructions a little too seriously and chopped every piece of hair on Kylie's head down to less than a millimeter; she now looks like this baby antelope. It might sound like I'm exaggerating here, but you can actually see her little scalp through what looks like a strange canine version of five o'clock shadow. Good thing Steve is a trooper about letter her sleep on the bed, because she has exactly NO fur left to keep her warm. (Which raises the question, how do baby antelope keep warm??? I won't Google to find out, lest I be tempted to post a story link...)

In other "not quite news," I have some new book reviews up over at my website. Feel free to drop web manager Meg a line there and tell her how much she rocks for making all those pretty cover links work - Yay Meg :) And I'm looking for a new book, so if you're reading something great that doesn't feature the words "desperate" or "haunting" on the back cover, let me know!

All the news that's fit to print

In an unexpected addendum to last week's "Celebrate Poultry" theme, good news from Ft. Myers Beach, Florida.

Florida youth must be heartier than their Massachusetts peers, who need protection from the perils of recess.

If you agree that it's never too late to get your 15 minutes of fame, this may be the thing for you.

And finally, I'm copying these words of wisdom from the Washington Post on an index card to take with me the next time I shop for jeans:

"If the zipper on your jeans is the same length as that People magazine you're reading in the grocery store check out aisle, you're probably losing the camouflage fight. And if the back pockets are the size of an IHOP pancake and are situated on the fleshy part between the waist and the bottom of the booty, they should have no place in your closet."

Words to live by.

So there you have it, my thoughts for today: YAY for the Turkey testicle Fest, BOO for making kids jog in place for a half-hour at recess, ARE YOU KIDDING? for the Phillies afterlife tribute, and JUST SAY NO to the ugly jeans.

We can all do a little something to make the world a better place :)

What are your thoughts for today?

I am a part of the Rhythm Nation...

This week's confession. While shopping at the T-Mobile store for a phone that would actually transmit calls, I also bought one of those fancy ear piece things so that my hands will be free while I share my thoughts with the people I love. You'd think this purchase would be motivated by my active lifestyle - you know, because I'm an on-the-go girl who needs to multitask. But if you're one of the people who calls me, you know firsthand that I can't multitask under any circumstances, and a speakerphone dangling from my ear is not the missing link that will connect these dots for me. Whatever.

I got the phone because I want to dance like Janet Jackson. And everyone knows that to be truly in control, you need a headset mike. Now granted, she's taken her multitasking skills in some unfortunate directions in recent years (if you've seen her in concert, you know that the little incident with Justin Timberlake was chaste and discreet by Miss Jackson's performance standards). But I still remember the Rhythm Nation days, when Janet was swathed from head-to-toe in military garb and singing about how kids need to learn to read.

So this morning, decked out in my "Life Is Good" pajamas and my new Bluetooth, I serenaded Steve and our baffled dog with a rousing medley of hits from the 1990's. They both just stared at me like, "What is she doing?" But I rocked on:

Ooo, what have you done for me lately?
(dunt dunna dump dump) Ooo ooo ooo yeah...

I'm in CONTROL (tripping over edge of carpet and sliding across the floor where I accidently sprayed pledge last weekend in a fit of last minute dusting before my Mom came to visit). I'm - In- Con-trol.

People of the world unite, doncha know we can get it right (one time - uh)
We are a part of the Rhythm Nation.

Sometimes dreams come true :)

Oatmeal cookies, a new phone, and a birthday extravaganza

Big excitement in the Ryan Hood this weekend - My Mom came to visit, which was spectacular and miraculous (whenever a woman on 24 hour oxygen travels across two states, climbs three flights of stairs, and insists on bringing homemade oatmeal cookies, I call that a miracle). Huge thanks to my cousin, Classics Girl, for making it happen!

And don't worry, we didn't take Mom to Starbucks to reward her for all that effort. We took her here for lunch because she wanted to eat somewhere "quintessentially Cambridge," and drove along the Charles River because it's the most beautiful place in the city right now. Then we went home and ate yummy cookies and talked about how much better life is these days than it used to be :) Yay, Mom!

AND THEN, Saturday night, Steve and I went to the yummiest sushi restaurant to celebrate the birthday of our delightful friend Starbucks Girl. Her intrepid boyfriend (we'll call him Mocha Man) organized the surprise by raiding her cell phone to get the numbers of all her friends, and then organized us to meet at the restaurant. When we arrived, we had no way of identifying each other except via the girly pink gift bags we were all carrying as we lurked by the Koi pond waiting to be seated. But once the maitre de (spelling? is there perhaps a Japanese alternative?) lead us to one of those tatami rooms where you sit on the floor with your bare feet dangling in a pit underneath the table, we became fast friends, bonding over our love of Starbucks Girl and the forced vulnerability that comes with unexpectedly removing your shoes in front of a large group of strangers.

Kudos to Mocha Man for pulling this off, and to Starbucks Girl for having the the coolest friends ever. I'm honored to be on her call list now that I've seen the high caliber of people she hangs out with!

This whole thing got me thinking about my own phone book (because I finally got a new phone - hooray!!!) and who Steve would find if he wandered in there to organize a surprise party for me. The gathering would be fabulously random, as I don't really identify people on my phone; I mostly just have names and numbers. So my good friends Accountant Girl, Brilliant Harvard Girl and Pilates Girl would be there, along with Starbucks Girl. But they'd be mingling with a somewhat baffled I Cut Trish's Hair Girl and I Think I Groomed Trish's Dog Once In 2003 Girl. I'm not sure if he'd be brave enough to call the Midwest exchange and say, "Hello, may I please speak with Swishy Girl?" but if he did, I like to think she'd fly in for the occasion. And who knows, there might even be a sheepish appearance by Now Ex Husband of Trish's College Roommate, whose name I need to delete ASAP, and/or Random Law School Friend Trish Once Thought She'd Call For Directions To Vermont. It would be quite a party, indeed!

So all that to say... Happy Birthday Starbucks Girl! Here's to coffee, sushi, girl talks, not entirely random musings about God and the meaning of life, and your very cool friends who adore you - I'm happy to be one of them!

The sound of music, the sound of the weekend

It's a beautiful day in the neighborhood here in Cambridge, and I might be a bit too excited that it's Friday once again. (Thanks to these guys for the gorgeous pic).



Today's theme (sing along if you will): "These are a few of my favorite things!"


First of all, I love This article by my favorite singer/songwriter - specifically her comment about re-taking control over the emotional climate of her life rather than letting it swing her around by the tail. Her wise words gave me a much-needed attitude adjustment about a whole host of frustrating things, not the least of which was last week's rant about my incredible shrinking jeans. Check it out if you're looking for a bit of light in a heavy day.

On a lighter note, this little creature cracks me up. She's an exact replica of the "Someone better take me out NOW" face my dog makes when she's lost all patience and is about to ruin the rug. It's the perfect gift to accompany the fabulous new pooper scooper Barbie - all I have to do is add a "Baby Wets A Lot" doll to the mix and my Christmas shopping for the niece and nephew is done!

And finally, check out this and this. But put your drink down first, because this site is dang funny. (Dang? Am I suddenly from Alabama???)

Okay, that's all from the cube this morning. Have a spectacular weekend and enjoy your world :)

I'm supposed to accessorize my air?

Skip down to the last line of this article...I'm telling you, it's all about the chickens.

Which came first - the chicken or bad decorating?

Here's an embarrassing confession: I ADORE chicken decorations. I think this is hysterical, and I would put this in my kitchen in a heartbeat. (This, however, is unfathomable, even to me).

I have no idea why this is.

I've resisted the call of the chicken since Steve and I got married; he likes his poultry nicely sliced in the meat section, served up by Frank Perdue. He doesn't find chicken dish towels whimsical, nor does he find this funny in a "Gee, we should get one" kinda way.

Last week, to my husband's horror, I found what I considered the perfect answer to our "We should probably put something in the middle of the dining room table because we rarely ever eat there and it looks kind of naked" dilemma. I was shopping at Marshalls, waiting to see what bargains would jump into my arms. And low and behold, from three different shelves, came three ceramic chickens each priced at $5 (They looked kind of like this, only one of my chickens was pouting). I thought this was divine intervention - combining my love of decorative poultry with the opportunity to create fun conversations about our novel $5 chicken collection.

Steve hated it. Steve doesn't hate much, but he despised the $5 chickens at a level heretofore reserved for the New York Yankees and Boston municipal works projects. Alas, the chickens have to go - I'll return them to Marshalls this afternoon so they can find a new home where they'll be fully loved, and our dining room will once again be bird-free.

If you're looking for a new way to fill your time after you're done praying for me to be miraculously blessed with better taste, type the phrase "poultry in motion" into Google...hysterical.

Scenes from a fun weekend

We're back from Maine, and all is well in the Pine Tree State. I'll be updating my resume soon, adding "successfully convinced six-year old to eat mac & cheese covered with ranch salad dressing" and "Engineered multi-level reorganization of recreational activities including Simon Says, Red Light/Green Light, and Hide & Seek" to my ACCOMPLISHMENTS section. These would have been valuable skill sets back when I was a lawyer.

On the way home from Maine we went to the new Massachusetts location of L.L. Bean. The new store lacks a trout pond, but other than that seems rather nice. I don't think it will inspire the midnight road trips the home store is famous for, but with a Border's right next door, it's a fine place to be on a Sunday afternoon.

I bought one of these when we got home. It's gorgeous right now, but I'm concerned for its safety - I haven't kept a plant alive for more than a month in over a decade. Please pray for my plant! They call them "Hardy" so I'm banking on that name meaning something!

We also bought new sheets. They have a slight texture to them, which felt just lovely in the nice sateen finish when we caressed the sample in the store. When we went to bed, however, we noticed that the raised parts were a little more pronounced than we anticipated - it was rather like sleeping between two pages of Braille. And when I got up this morning, I couldn't help but notice that every exposed bit of skin was now indented, patterned in that great plaid I so liked in the bedding store. They say the sheets get softer with multiple washings - but do they get flatter???

In writing news, the "C" key on my home laptop broke. This means that the final third of my book will be written without any words containing the letter "C." Think anyone will notice?

And finally, we watched Studio 60 On The Sunset Strip last night - loved it!

We're all winners

My three year old niece woke up yesterday morning and declared, "I want Aunt Trish!" (Did I mention that she's a VERY smart little girl???)
"Aunt Trish won't be here for two more days," my sister explained patiently. "Today is Thursday; Aunt Trish won't be here until Saturday."
"Then today IS Saturday!" my niece delared, and then looked at my sister as if to say, "You heard me - make it so!"

Oh to be three again. Honestly, if it didn't mean repeating 13-34, it might be worth it, just to be so certain that the world existed just to make me happy :)

Steve and I will be trekking up to Maine tomorrow to put in some quality time with the niece and her older brother (who, in his own fit of three year old cuteness, once told me I was ALMOST as beautiful as Princess Fiona from the movie Shrek. Almost.)

We have big plans for our night of babysitting. While Sis and her hubby are out enjoying an evening of fine dining, we'll be teaching niece and nephew some colorful language to use on special occasions. Nothing obscene, of course, just enough to spark a little fun. What chance do their parents have of disciplining them if the niece learns to say, "No Mummy, I'm being obstinate" while the nephew declares, "and I'm being obstreperous"??? This weekend's fun will be brought to you by the letter O!

In other fun news, WE HAVE WINNERS for this round of Buy A Friend A Book Week! Thank you all for your suggestions to enhance my TV watching (which will come in quite handy when I'm no longer allowed to babysit the younger generation of my family). There were many fine entries, but our winners this time - each of whom will receive a new copy of Nancy French's hysterical book, Red State of Mind: How A Catfish Queen Reject Became A Liberty Belle - are:

Sarakastic, who wow'd me with fabulous quotes. She took a rather ingenious approach, starting with some lines from the season premiere of a show she knows I love (The Gilmore Girls) and then followed it up with a quote from the show she recommends (The Office). Very smart. She should work for our government; I think we need her in high places where strategic decisions are made.

AND (in a late-breaking entry)

Kim Stagliano, who took the risky move of not even recommending a show. Instead she reminded me that indeed we do have pagents here in the great Commonwealth of Massachusetts. The picture she painted of a girl named Fern, singing "It's Not Easy Being Green" for her talent segment in the Miss Attleboro pagent while dressed like a frog, made me laugh so hard I forgot I owned a TV. Nice work, Kim. Enjoy the book :)

Send me your address via the link you find here, Sarakastic and Kim, and you'll see an Amazon box on your porch soon!

Free to be a better me...

Sorry for the no-post yesterday. I had two ideas in the works - one about the frightening things scientists are trying to prove by shooting electrodes into people's brains (my conclusion: how bout we just don't do that?), the other about Cambridge traffic and how it's simply impossible to flip someone off and still feel classy and elegant (those of you who know me are laughing now, but YES, classy and elegant is what I aspire to be. Stranger things have happened. Shush.)

I didn't post those, however, because I couldn't come up with anything funny or encouraging to say. My theory? Why blog if I can't make my little chunk of cyberspace a happier place to be?

In that light, here's a gem I keep hearing from different corners of the world: "Just because you're feeling something, Trish, that doesn't mean it's true. Emotions aren't reality."

Really? So if I'm feeling like my head might pop off if I sit in this chair one more instant, it won't? If I'm feeling like nothing good will ever come of my life because I skipped the gym again this week, ate popcorn for dinner, and STILL don't understand why everyone loves Grey's Anatomy, that doesn't mean all hope is lost?

I won't belabor the point, but let's just say this came as EXCELLENT news. I don't wrestle much with self-esteem, and life is pretty swell here in Trishville. But mood swings can kick my butt, and this has proven a spectacular foil to the evil forces of cold weather, bitter coffee, and "gee they MUST have shrunk in the dryer" jeans conspiring to ruin my day.

So here's what my friend told me she does, when she's having one of those lower than a worm in a mud puddle days: She asks herself, "what to I KNOW is true?" (Kind of like Oprah's "What I Know For Sure," but on a slightly less global scale).

So here's what I know is true:
- I didn't give that driver the bird yesterday in traffic, which means I'm a little bit more classy and elegant than I would have been otherwise. Yay!
- My jeans DID shrink in the dryer. I've lost two entire pounds since I started working out (three months ago, but who's counting?) and that means that I am a smidge skinnier than I was when I bought those pants. If they're too small, that doesn't mean I'm too big! (Plus, I'm classy and elegant, and ladies like that don't have these problems).

That's my story, and I'm sticking to it :)

Watching TV can improve your life...

ADDENDUM: Rereading today's post, I realize that in my enthusiastic attempt to describe Nancy's adventures, I may have left the impression that she was a street walker when she lived in Philadelphia (as opposed to a normal citizen who occasionally walked down the street). Not only was this NOT the case, I have to say that if it were, Nancy is a smart cookie and would have known better than to break out her political t-shirt collection during business hours!

Okay, glad we got that cleared up... on to the blog:

In honor of Buy A Friend A Book Week, it's time to give away another book!

As some of you know, Nancy French's fabulous and hysterical Red State of Mind (do you love that cover?) is officially out in the world today. I am giggling just thinking about her failed bid to be crowned Catfish Queen (we don't have pageants where I'm from! I never got to wear a sash either!) or what happened when she walked the crazy streets of Philadelphia wearing her homemade "I Love Newt" t-shirt. (Actually, I'm not sure she did that, or if it just sounds like something I can imagine her doing. Either way, the book promises to be hysterically funny.)

Not that I'd know yet, because my copy hasn't arrived (I think I promised Nancy a picture of me shaking the first President Bush's hand...) but that doesn't mean I can't send out yours! So here's the deal:

I'm baffled by the new Fall TV lineup, and need recommedations on what to watch and what to skip. To enter, drop me a comment with the following information:
1. Your favorite show this season
2. What night and time it's on; and
3. What you love about it.
I'll put all the names in a hat and draw at least one winner to receive a new copy of Nancy's fabulous book.

HUGE, IMPORTANT, DEAL-BREAKING CAVEAT: The show you mention CANNOT CANNOT CANNOT be Grey's Anatomy. (Swishy, I'm talking to you!) I'll confess that I'm also not loving Ugly Betty so far, but other than those two, the field is wide open. Project Runway is almost over, and I need something new to love. Help me help you!

:)

A dog, a turtle, and a 48 page chapter...

GREAT weekend, here in Trishland.

Hubby was up in the mountains hiking, building fires, and jumping into a chilly Canadian lake.

I was home in bed, snuggled under the comforter with my laptop and my ipod, watching my dog move from place to place so she could lie in the sun with her tummy in the air. Fall is officially underway in the Commonwealth.

I got TONS of writing done - I now have one chapter weighing in at 48 pages, so I'd say that EDITING is high on this week's agenda. But you know what it means when you desperately need to edit?It means that you wrote something!!! I'm all about the silver lining this morning.

In "Gee Trish, you could try and be a better person" news, I skipped church yesterday, trying to extend my time in bed to a full 36 hours. At 11am I got a call from my friend Starbucks Girl, asking, "Are you here and I just don't see you?" I'd forgotten that she and I were supposed to meet to exchange books. Whoops. She came over after the service and I asked her what the sermon was about. She looked at me, trying to keep a straight face and said, "The importance of maintaining friendships."

Fantastic.

She forgave me though, probably because we both believe passionately that either Michael or Laura should win this season on Project Runway. When you have that kind of synergy, there's room for the occasional screw up.

And finally, apropos of nothing: I found this bizarre idea for a wedding cake on Galleycat. (And to think, I was happy with three tiers of basic yellow and some squiggles that matched my dress...)

You never get a second chance to make a first impression

Last night, I wanted to go to the local signing for this book, but hubbie and I got out of the gym too late and I didn't have time to change. Assuming that the reading was already underway upstairs, I ran into the store in my sweat-soaked Red Sox t-shirt and spandex tights, thinking I could buy a copy without anyone but the clerk seeing (or smelling) that I was there.

Silly me.

Not only was the author still standing by her books, surrounded by a flock of adoring fans, she offered to sign one for me as I slunk through the crowd. "What's your name?" she asked sweetly.

"Brenda" I replied.

(okay, that's not really what I said. But I wish it was. When will I learn?)

Entertaining me this morning:

Remember Luke and Laura from General Hospital ? Well I for one am happy to learn that Laura finally dumped Luke, and is now living in in the middle of Maine with Star Trek's Commander Riker. Apparently they run a store that sells nice throw pillows.

In entirely unrelated news, I've been following Rosie O'Donnell's smashing/crashing debut on The View. In her first month , she equated Christians with Al-Qaida, insinuated that Oprah and Gayle are really lesbians who have lost their spark, and confessed that her secret cure for diaper rash involves dog saliva. Probably not the start Barbara Walters was hoping for. Perhaps the time has come for ABC to move Rosie over to a new show? I, for one, would like to see her square off directly against Ann "stop whining and get yourself a miniskirt" Coulter. They can call it, The View: Extreme Edition.

And finally, is it just me, or is Ugly Betty just The Devil Wears Prada with a Mexican Poncho thrown in?

Okay, them's my thoughts for now. I'm getting to work. Really. Right Now. Here I go...

Choices...

I skipped the gym last night. Rushed home and spent the next two hours on the couch, watching The Biggest Loser.

Look for my new book, "Avoiding Weight Loss" coming soon to a La-Z-Boy showroom near you.

Dish on the Swish

It's a dingy day here in Trishland this morning, so I've decided to focus on happy things...happy things...happy things...

Which brings me to the unexpected highlight of my Midwest Extravaganza, the secret blogger meeting I've hinted at all week:

It all began at 3:30 Thursday morning, when the alarm catapulted me out of my cozy bed and I struggled to ingest enough caffeine to get to my 7:30 flight. (Two hours for airport security - whose idea was that???) I decided to check my email one last time before leaving, and there, in my in-box, was a message from Swishygirl (who looks just like this, don't let her tell you otherwise), saying that she resides in the Great Midwest, would be in the St. Louis area on Saturday, and asking if I wanted to hang out?

My first thought: How cool!
My second thought: Wait, what if she's actually a bizarre man stalking us all through the blog sphere???
My third thought: Nah - she was vetted by Manic Mom at the RWA Chicago, so she must be okay!

And may I say, hanging out with Swishy was far better than okay. She's adorable, fun, and kept me laughing for four hours. And yes, I aspire to have her teeth. I think she might aspire to my knives, so I guess that makes us even. I will return to the land of the airborne train simply to hang out with her again so we can tell each other how wonderful we are (I wonder if she'd pick me up at the airport???)

We talked about the crazy world of writing (love it; should both be more disciplined), blogging (the most fun you can have wasting time while convincing yourself you're doing something VERY IMPORTANT for your career), men (secret stuff - can't put that in cyberspace) , and how cruising the multicolored aisles of certain stores can pull you out of a funk in no time flat. Swishy and her very cool friend (who I'll call Secret Agent Girl) are now my official BFMWIEM - Best Friends Met While In Eastern Missouri! (You wouldn't think that would be a hotly contested title, but let me tell you, I bonded with the latte-making woman at Starbucks while I was out there!)

Okay, here's what I know you're waiting for: at bit of secret dish on Swishy! Here's what I'm free to reveal:

If you're looking for a birthday present for her (and of course, I completely forgot to ask when her birthday was, so feel free to randomly send her a gift at anytime) she would love an orchestral version of that "Gloria" song from the 1980s (or really anything where a saxophone has taken over where the lyrics should be).

And here's what I learned about Swishy that shall remain forever secret:
1. The genesis of the name "Swishy"
2. Where you're most likely to find her at midnight
3. The plotline of her (amazing, very cool) novel

For the first two, you'll have to go to her to find out. As for the third, please feel free to contact her here - hourly - to ask if she's finished it and sent it off. My new secret dream is that if her book comes out around the same time as mine, we could do some joint book signings - cause my guess is, Swishy can dance :)

What really happened to TV Guide Girl, and my apologies to St. Louis

First - an update on the disappearance of my awesome guest blogger from last week, TV Guide Girl (who was here just long enough to post a contest I didn't know I'd be having, offering prizes I apparently still need to think up):

The reason you didn't see more of her witty take on live and love last weekend is because, among other low-level catastrophes that hit her house while I was away, her giant beast of a dog (who looks like this, only bigger) was attacked and bitten by a deranged skunk. Now I'm not entirely sure what is up with the wildlife population of TVGG's small town, but this was a skunk so lacking a basic understanding of the food chain that its defensive response to 100 pounds of canine lunging toward it was not, "I should SPRAY it!" but rather, "I should EAT it!" So it took several chunks out of TVGG's beloved pup, which required consultation with the local sheriff, the state police, the game warden, the emergency vet, the regular vet, and possibility of a home visit from PETA to ensure that the skunk wasn't hurt or left in an emotionally vulnerable state.

In the skunk's defense, it is not the first creature to look at this dog and think, "There's some extra meat on there...he probably won't even miss it..."

TVGG will be back soon to titillate you with more tales from her version of Little House In The Big Woods. Until then, please join me in wishing her and her husband a happy anniversary -Apparently, the official gift for 12 years of marriage is a case of tomato juice in which to immerse your smelly dog :)

Second - I intended no ill-will toward the city of St. Louis in my last post! Light-rail public transport and bedless hotel suites notwithstanding, I had a GREAT time there and hope to return next fall. Yes, I'm someone who doesn't love heights (you can imagine what a great gymnast this made me in High School) and if I'm going to sleep on a couch for three nights, I'd like it to be in the livingroom of someone I know. But that's a personal thing, certainly not grounds for disparaging an entire city. It's not you, St. Louis, it's me...

I'll post some of the gems I picked up at the conference I attended later, but for now, suffice to say that one of the highlights was dinner at a fabulous tapas restaurant with a blogger who looks like this. That I still love her is a true testament to her character and personality :)

Meet me in St. Louis...but make sure you take a cab

I'm back from the Great Midwest!!! I saw neither the Gateway Arch nor the Golden Arches during my time there, but it was a fabulous trip nonetheless. I'll share (some) of my adventures in different posts throughout the week...today we'll begin with my introduction to the city of St. Louis...

I'm not a fan of public transportation. I didn't grow up in the city, my hometown had no trains or taxis or buses (unless you count John the Taxi Guy who escorted the elderly ladies to their hair appointments and decorated his cab with holiday-themed toppers like a giant turkey for thanksgiving.) Here in Boston the whole transportation thing is such a debacle that everyone agrees, it's often best just to stay home. So when visiting new cities, I tend to take the "People in glass houses..." approach and keep my thoughts to myself.

But I have to take the gloves off with St. Louis. Not because their Metrolink system was complicated (there was a very nice man in the airport whose entire job was to make it easy for folks like me to buy a ticket and find our way onto the proper train), or because it was dirty or outdated (the cars were all clean and lovely, with a vague scent of eau de new car wafting through the air), but because it was terrifying. WHO, I want to know, thought that the best way to introduce people to the great city of St. Louis was to SUSPEND them in tiny trolley cars HIGH ABOVE the highway??? (Notice, if you will, that all the metrolink websites feature pictures of the bus...there are no pictures of the roller coaster adventure awaiting you if you decide you'd rather take the $3.25 bargain route from the airport than pay $40 for a cabride downtown). They call it a light rail system...as in, "the cars are lightly attached to the rails..."

So I sat there in my little trolley car fifty feet above the highway, trying to avoid looking out the seven-foot windows at the rushing traffic below, astudiously NOT thinking about how, even if I survived the fall to the pavement, I'd still have an approximately 100% chance of being ploughed over by an 18-wheeler. I didn't think any city could take a worse approach to infrastructure development than Boston, but the whole dangle-the-new-arrivals-over-the-traffic thing can't be doing much to build repeat visits...

(As I type this, all my colleagues are calling in late because the Mass Pike is shut down this morning by a raging car fire. And as much as they're complaining about the delay, I doubt that ANY of them would prefer to witness said fire from a track suspeded over it, roasting them slowly as they roll by...)

I felt MUCH better when I got to my hotel, though, because the reservation clerk told me he had an EXCITING OFFER for me. Because there were no rooms left at the inn, he said, he could offer me a huge luxury suite for my 3-night stay, one that usually goes for $500-600 per night. In my case, they would give it to me for my normal one-room price.
"It has everything..." the young clerk gushed. "a living room, a gorgeous kitchen, a gigantic bath. It's fabulous! The only thing it doesn't have," he continued, speeding up and starting to mumble, "Isabed."
"It doesn't have a bed?" I repeated, certain I'd misheard.
"Itdoesnthaveabed" he mumbled once again. "It has a pull-out sofa, and housekeeping would put sheets on in and make it up JUST LIKE a bed! Did I mention that the suite has a kitchen???"

Um, thanks. But no. I had no groceries; I didn't plan to cook. I did however, hope to sleep during my visit, which was really the reason I initiated this relationship with the Renaissance Grand in the first place. I have no idea why they have suites with no beds - perhaps that's where they calm the people who have just been terrified by the Metrolink? Anyway...

After the roller coaster ride and my brush with luxury hotel living, things got REALLY FUN in St. Louis, including a fun run-in with one of my favorite blogger friends. Tune in tomorrow (or later today if everyone I work with is still stuck in traffic) for more! :)