Eames and Shoots

My dream recliner, not the one we bought.

We are redecorating our living room. Slowly, but surely, getting the bits and pieces we need.

It started a couple of months ago while we were watching Breaking Bad and Pup was squirming away on his end of the sectional.

"Babe, I miss my recliners," he said.

"You mean from the white marshmallow couch," I said? (Retired into pieces in various rooms.)

"A man needs his recliners."

I looked over at him. At his big-manness and his uncomfortable repose.

"Can we look for a recliner that doesn't lose small children and pets in its cushions? One that is a bit sleeker for my eyes," I say?

Does a hockey player wear a nutcup?

So, I was off on my hunt for the perfect recliner.

Found one, we ordered it, it took WEEKS to be delivered. It was a pile. A sorry pile. When Pup sat in it we could just tell it wouldn't last through football season.

sigh

Back it went with a bit of whining from me to the customer service team that guys that like recliners generally don't weigh 150 pounds and what was the point of a dainty recliner? She didn't laugh.

So, off the two of us go to find the perfect recliner.

We trotted off to furniture stores. Many furniture stores. We were getting crabby. The chairs he was loving were so very very POOFY. Large smushy arms perfect for resting snacks on. Large squishy seats for napping.

The chairs I was loving were not right.

"Oh look baby"! He has spotted something.

"This one has CUP HOLDERS right in the arms"! His eyes were shining with happiness. He was immediately reclined in the cupholder-chair and dangerously close to nodding off. Or was I dangerously close to bumping him off? Kidding . . . I think.

"Oh my friggin' god Pup! I can't have furniture with CUPHOLDERS! You want to turn our living room into an SUV"!

A standoff.

He's Pup-pouting. I'm pouting. We're now beyond crabby.

Again I say, "You need a man-den." It's true. Our house is just one little room too small.

So, off to chi-chi furniture store, where I, of course, find a perfect chair. In my eyes. Pup isn't seeing it that way.

"Babe, it's $2,300. I am not paying $2,300 for a RECLINER"!

"Sweetie, furniture costs money."

"The cupholder chair was only $1000"!

I stare at him with guns in my eyes.

Smarmy salesman runs over with leather samples. Oblivious to the malevolence snapping in the air like lightening.

So, off we go to another furniture store. Where, a few weeks ago, we had found the perfect couch with no arguing. And where a few recliners had been rejected outright by both of us.

We walk around the store, tired and CRABBY.

Pup remembers a chair that he rejected back then. He pulls me like an unruly child to the recliner.

We both stand there looking at it. Why had it been rejected before? It's great. We can pick our leather. And get this . . .

we both fit in it! We can watch and recline together. Or he can recline alone in man-glory.

I'm as happy as a dog licking his balls.

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Hot Men Friday

Um, yeah . . .

Love dark and brooding.

And, btw, if you get a chance to see the movie City Island I wholeheartedly recommend it. Surprisingly engaging and interesting.

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Words I Love

shenanigans

brilliant

boner

obdurate

Jeep

wiener

empanada

mojito

daughters

organized

daisy

seduce

sale

published

crapinoli

art

arse

thick
What are your favorites?

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Intentions

I had every intention . . .

of making my bed

of exercising today

of not eating that fourth empanada

of making that call

of walking George

of taking my vitamins

of swapping out my seasonal clothes

of shaving my legs

of drinking my eight glasses of water

of making a new plan Stan

of getting on the bus Gus

of putting on a happy face


Yes, I have been known to wallow in it a bit. It's my Cancerian nature I've been told. And who doesn't like to wallow just a teeny bit from time to time?

It's not pleasant. I caught a glimpse of my face in a store mirror the other day when I wasn't expecting it and, hey! Is that me? I look so crabby! Your face is going to stay that way!

When I'm driving I'm looking to pick a fight with other drivers. Really? You want to do that? I can run your ass off the road quicker than I can say dumbass.

What are your intentions?

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Well?

It has been that kind of day.

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Hot Men Friday

I saw Sex and the City 2 and while I will not bore you with my review, I will pay homage to John Corbett.

I'd heard here and there that he didn't look as good and I say WHA??

I'm a really big fan of the United States of Tara so I knew how he was looking now and I've always been attracted to his lanky legs and BIGNESS. Love a big man.

And his squeezalicious girl is Bo Derek. Whoo hoo! I have had a girl-crush on her since 10. She's the one that started Baywatch IMHO. Men all over the world have thanked her ever since.

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Clyde Barrow Was Once Caught Here

I live in Minnesota, land of 15,000 lakes, long Oooooo's, insane drivers, blonds, blue eyes, and weird-speak.

We have our regionalisms just like all other areas of the country. Ours are uniquely Minnesota as the movie Fargo illustrated (although most Minnesotans were seriously pissed-off thinking the rest of the country would now think we talk like that - truth be told, we do a little bit).

Here are a few:

soda = pop
brownie = bar
casserole = hotdish
sneakers = tennis
"Can I come along?" = "Can I go with?"
"You drive about 10 miles" = "You drive about 10 minutes"
broom = brum
roof = ruff
for crying out loud! = for cripes sake!
big hotdog/sausage = brat (pronounced "brought")
yes - ya

We talk about the weather a lot. Reason? Minnesotans really don't want to know anything about you. The Minnesota Nice? Fiction. People moving here from other states talk about how difficult it is to make friends here. We've made our friends and don't want new ones thank you very much.

Another reason we're so awkward having conversations with strangers is our heritage. There are a lot of Swedes and Norwegians here and they are a quiet bunch. Seriously. Walk into any Lutheran church up north and tell me what you see. More natural blonds than you'll ever see anywhere else. And they are all sitting in the back. Truth.

It's also an area of gorgeous people. All those blue eyes and warm-toned skin. Good bone structure, long legs, nice profiles.

Of course I am using the hugest, sweeping generalizations I can use. But with that is the truth somewhere.

Makes ya want to move here yes?

Didn't think so!

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Embarrassing

I have received the celebrated and coveted Oh My Blog award.

Of course, there are conditions attached. The one that seemed achievable for me is telling an embarrassing tale.

As you may guess, I have many. I have said more than once that "freak magnet" must be sparking off of my aura because that is what I attract. Maybe freak is harsh. Let's call them INTERESTING.

Examples:

• The guy who, out of dozens of cars on the freeway, chose me to drive next to and show me his wiener while he was MASTURBATING! Umm, yeah. I won a prize telling that story on a local radio show.
• The guy who followed me around several tag sales (a street was having a neighborhood collaboration) and at the third sale, sidled up to me while I was checking out a couple of event pompoms stating, "I bet you have a nice cheerleading outfit at home you should try on for me." Aaaah! I won another prize from the same radio station telling that story as well.
• How about the guy that pinched my nipples at a club stating, "Oh! Look how the little rascals like me"!
• And who can forget the guy on a city bus that showed my daughter and I how his shirt pulled on his underarm hairs and how much that bothered him.
• This one isn't that creepy, but I found it interesting because I do believe he was walking to his car after a Promise Keepers rally. He was walking behind me as we walked to our cars (I was going home after work) and as he passed me he whispered in my ear, "I bet your husband is a happy man."

I guess these aren't as embarrassing as they are INTERESTING; to me anyway. :P

I have to say though, that the memory that really sprang into my mind when I thought about the most embarrassing moment is the time I was exiting a city bus.

I had on a summer skirt that wrapped around and fastened in the front with two ties. The skirt was longish and as I stepped down the bus steps, the hem of my skirt brushed on the step above me.

A woman behind me accidentally stepped on my hem and as I walked away my skirt was totally RIPPED OFF OF ME. On a downtown Minneapolis corner. At 8:00 in the morning.

There I stood for a brief second in my pink and white lacies. Oh dear god, I am turning red just remembering this. I grabbed up my skirt, tucked it around me as effectively as I could, and walked with head down quickly quickly to my office.

I was never so happy to get to work and find a safety pin.

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