‘Tis the season for designer dresses and award shows.  I love it.  The SAG awards were this weekend and, even though I don’t watch the awards, I always view the red carpet pics the morning after.  It’s not that I don’t like the shows, I just never remember they are coming on. 

 

 

America, again, looking stunning.  It’s nice to see boobs AND hips on an award-winning actress.  Makes me feel like less of a monster when I look in the mirror.  What?! It’s true!

 

 

Again, more evidence that my poor Reese isn’t eating.  Someone help her.

 

 

I have loved Rebecca Gayheart since she was on 90210 as Luke Perry’s wife that gets killed (when the hit was intended for Perry).  Yeah, and the Noxema commericals I guess.  Anyhow, the girl NEVER ages and she just happens to be wearing the exact same color that I want to paint my bedroom.  What do you think?  Too yellow?

 

 

Ok, so I can’t decide if I love or hate this dress.  I love the color, I love the top….I’m just not sure about the bottom.  Or maybe just the length of the dress with her height.  I don’t know.  Also, she’s another actress that weights more than 130lbs, so I have to give her props.  Well, her and Julie Andrews.  But one of the stipulations to this 130lb rule is that you don’t have to follow if you are old and a legend.  Elizabeth Taylor is another example. 

My major renovation project is halfway done.  I documented my progress and wanted to share. 

Picture 1: Look at that beautiful room. Don’t you love the grey linoleum tile?  I think it really brings out the black of the piano.  How about the white stucco wall?  I know you can’t see the details, but it’s a real beauty.

 

 

Picture 2: The tile is actually pretty easy to take off, it was a real stress-reliever to chuck off each piece with a hammer and screwdriver (my patent technique).

 

 

 

 I need to add a pic showing you the lovely green wallpaper that I discovered after sanding off the stucco.  It’s also underneath the tile adhesive.  That’s where I’m at now.  Trying to get off really really old wallpaper that doesn’t want to come off.  I’ve been spraying this Goo Gone junk on it, but it just serves to make the walls gooey.  Nothing doing.

I have a buddy come to town to stay with me, Dan, so I’ve had to put the project on hold.  I went ahead and moved my bed and dresser in the new room, so now it looks like I’m really into shabby shitty wall decor.  Excellent.

Here were my two favorites “looks” from the Golden Globes this year. 

Because, let’s face it, you know I don’t care who actually won.

 

Ok, so this dress isn’t super-sexy, super-elegant, or super-anything.  It just made her look REALLY GOOD.  Not that she doesn’t look great to begin with, but being Ugly Betty  24-7 can make us forget how pretty she really is. 

 

I love my girl Reese, and I absolutely ADORE this dress.  But she’s looking a little on the bony side, perhaps it’s the stress from the divorce?   It makes me wonder if she’s really this small, and her usual PR pictures just add 10lbs.  Food for thought. Literally. 

Yesterday was just a big pile of mess - literally.  I’m in the middle of renovating on of my rooms; I’m converting it from an office to a bedroom.  The problem is that the walls are in shoddy shape, the bottom half of the wall was covered in GREY LINOLEUM TILES and the top half UGLY WHITE STUCCO.  So I spent last weekend taking off the tiles and starting sanding the walls. 

Fast forward to yesterday - there was still plenty of stucco left on the walls.  David, The Boyfriend, offered to come over and sand near the ceiling, where shorty can’t reach.  I needed to go to the mall and buy some new contacts because I had ruined my final pair by getting dust in them (I was using the safety goggles, but it didn’t matter).  I tell David I’d be back in an hour.  I go to Lenscafters and try to pass off my expired prescription - no go.  So I had to get an eye exam and they were quoting me $169 for everything, including a supply of contacts.  This sounded great.  I had to pay up front because they didn’t work my insurance.  After an hour and a half, I’m seen and given the third degree by the optometrist.  He hates the Night and Day contacts I use, he’s an advocate for laser surgery, and he’s impressed that I use this particular enzyme cleaner that is basically made of hydrogen peroxide.  Also, while I was waiting for him, he had this video playing in the exam room.  Not a promotional video, not a funny tv show or the news - it was this crazy ass documentary about Navajo Indians and sand art.  It’s one of those movies where you can’t quite figure out when it was filmed; could have been 1974, could have been yesterday, it’s just that strange.

So I go out to pay.

That’ll be $284.

Huh? I’m sorry?

Turns out that it was $169 AND UP.  The exam was $169 and then you have to buy the contacts - complete false advertising.  Whatever, I needed to see.  I watched her run my debit card while I prayed that it would go through.  It did.  Stupid eye insurance.

I feel bad because I’ve been gone for so long and poor David is just sanding away.  I tried to call him but, again, he had the sander going and couldn’t hear the ringer.  It’s finally snowing outside, it looks beautiful and I’m crossing my fingers that school will be cancelled in the morning.  I turn on the car to warm it up and get back out to clean off the rear window.  I turn back to get in the car.  Locked.  LOCKED.  Car is running, snow is falling, and I’ve locked the keys in the car.  Excellent. 

I tracked down the Security truck and ask if they have a jimmie for me to use.  No go.  The guy offers to get the number for the locksmith for me.  Great - $50 to have a stranger use a metal hanger to break into my car.  I take the number and ask if he can find me a hanger.  He looks at my like “silly girl, you can’t break into your car.”  I see this on his face and tell him that given the hanger, I WILL get that lock opened.  So he finds me one and off we go to the car.  15 minutes later, with frozen fingers, I pop the lock. 

I am the Leader of the Free World.

The Security Guard was impressed.  I told him that there was no way I was giving some Pop-A-Lock (actual name of the company) my hard-earned money.  He laughed and sent me on my way.

This is what it looked like.

 

Snow outside (pretend that’s a girl):

 

The Glorious Metal Hanger:

 

I admit it, I didn’t have the greatest confidence in the world going into the Championship Game last night.  In fact, I was going out purely to show my support for the underdog Gators (much like an oldschool Red Sox fan).  I was realistic, for once in my life, and didn’t put up much of a fight when taunted by the “holier than thou” Ohio State fans who were giving me lines like “I mean, you don’t ACTUALLY think they’re going to beat us, right?  I’m really sorry to tell you this, but they don’t stand a chance!”  I had conceded to defeat, I had made peace with it….

Damn, it feels good to be a gangster. (Office Space reference)

We won.  I know, crazy right?  We actually won.  I thought it all over when Ohio State returned the kick-off for a freaking touch down, but the Gators came back and just kicked major ass.  It was amazing.  It was phenomenal.  If I hadn’t of been in a state of shock, I might have cried.

Granted, I was gloating after halftime.  Well, by the end of the 3rd Quarter really.  Bonnie, on the other hand, didn’t want to jinx it at all.  She wouldn’t even admit our win at 2 minutes to go when we were 20 points ahead.  She arrived to the bar wearing non Florida colors because, ”they always lose when I wear Gator colors outside of Gainesville!” 

I’m not a gambler, but I had mentioned a few days ago that I should bet on this game, just because the odds were so stacked against us.  Last night, I was hitting myself for not listening to this genius piece of advice.  The only bet I made was based on pride, and here is me reaping my rewards.  You have to look pretty far down the entry to see my prize.  Don’t ask me why I chose this phrase, I was in a hurry and needed something insane to reflect the probability of our win.

Good job, boys.

I said it’s great to be a Florida Gator….

 

I took Toby by my principal’s house yesterday and he had a chance to play with her pug, Penelope.  They are both still puppy age (under two) and had a great time chasing each other around in circles.  He was really happy and it made me remember how important it is to have a Buddy in life.

Now, there are three dauchaunds (sp?) that live with us, but they are half Toby’s size and he plays more roughly than they do.  There is also Molly, my bunny, but again too small and too delicate. 

So although Toby is surrounded by humans and animals, none of them fit the criteria of a Buddy. 

You can’t be Buddies with everyone. 

Even a dog knows that.  A Buddy has to be someone that is an excellent fit for you.  Someone that is on your level and can handle what you dish out.  They keep you on your toes, yet know when to back off.  They are sensitive, almost unconsciously so, to your needs.  It’s very important to have a Buddy, no matter who you are.  Interverted or extroverted, you always need someone to pair up with.  Someone to help you across the street.

I dunno why I was thinking about that today, but it’s another motivator for me to clean up my finances.  I’d love to get another dog, but it’s just not possible right now. 

I’d love to get my own place and have a nice big yard for Toby - and his future Buddy - to play in.  Although he can’t say so, I know he feels a little bit incomplete without that kind of partner in his life.  Just like I do. 

Wow, 2007 is off to a shitty start, is it too early to skip to 2008?  I’m gonna go drown my sorrows in something non-alcoholic, but only bc I have to work tomorrow.