I am going to Vegas tomorrow, and I'm pretty excited about it.  Vegas is a nice little escape spot, even for a sober gal like me. 

And my friend Shauna hit it right on the head -- my life peaked in that moment when Adam Lambert got put in the bottom 2 on American Idol.  Bottom 2!!!  Ah, it just doesn't get much better than that.

And get a load of what I'll be chewing on tomorrow night:

Those cute little piglets are threatening my cruise.

Why I'm Going on a Mexican Cruise No Matter What:

I fear no Swine Flu.

(and in the 3 remaining weeks it COULD dissipate, right?)

just in case you were wondering...

- my brother will hit his 11 month mark on his mission o' loveliness TOMORROW.
- my favorite show kings got cancelled already.
- i wish i knew how to maneuver my way around the graphic design world so i could make a swingin new banner for my blog.
- i'm moving in 2 weeks. time for this lamb to have her own room.
- i made a cheesecake yesterday. did you know cheesecake makes your arms jiggle?
- i'm freezing right now. why does every edifice in orange county think the world will implode if the air conditioning is not at a frosty roar?
- i got my gym pass reactivated. i know, that sentence right there sort of deserves its own blog post. why would i do such a thing? i've seen lots of people walk by me at work who are the picture of crumbling health. it's been very motivating. i also have been trying to cut down from 25 gallons of satan sauce a day to 1 can (maybe 2). lots of water besides. baby steps, people. baby steps.

peace out, y'all.

Do you want to know what you can do to make yourself feel AWESOME??

Ok. Go to a party on a Friday night, and then find out that a girl you babysat when she was 3 years old is also there as a guest. It's totally amazing.

I was going to go over say hi, hear about her Freshman year of college, but then I realized the last time we had a chat of such length and enthusiasm I was changing her diaper. Nice.

a new year's resolution of mine was to cook something new every week.  basically i've been the stinkiest resolution keeper of all time.  when i get off work early, though, i try to conjure up something.  thursdee was such a day.

maybe you've already made something like this, but it was being sampled at trader joe's, it was remarkably inexpensive, yet still fresh and summery.  i added the chicken apple sausage to appease the carnivore.  

summer pasta salad du jour

1 1/3 cup sun dried tomatoes

balsamic vinaigrette dressing to taste

6 oz. pack wheat pasta (i used the little twisty ones)

3/4 cup crumbled feta

1/2 cup sliced black olives

4 links of broiled chicken apple sausage

2 cups chopped artichoke hearts

ta daaaa!

Done!

It seems only yesterday I was being monitored very closely while holding this little bundle right here.  This bundle was very small and helpless, you see, completely powerless over her older sister who was not used to the attention being split 3 ways.

Now the little bundle is graduating from BYU, and I couldn't be more proud of her.

Good job, Sar. I wish I could be there.  The Speech Pathology department will sing your praises forever and ever.

I'll help your kids write their papers if you cure my kids of the lisps and speech impediments they will almost certainly have.

Published. Twice.

Jeffrey M. Hayes, Esquire, new stud muffin at Payne & Fears LLP, has been published in The Journal of the Legal Profession.  His article, To Recuse or to Refuse: Self-Judging and the Reasonable Personal Problem, is quite a wonder, and I would know, because I helped edit it.  As a reward for my scrutinizing I was gifted with my own copy :).  I bet he'll watch a period piece with me too.  

I'm just pretty darn proud of him.

Costco: Where the Beautiful People Go

Apparently Costco doubles up as a modeling agency.

2 days ago I went to fuel up at Costco. When it was finally my turn I went to swipe my Costco card, and (gasp!) it was nowhere to be found! I dug around in my purse for it (the trouble with trying to be Mary Poppins is there's a LOT of crap to sift through in one's carpet bag), but didn't have much time before my lunch break was over, so I gave up rather quickly. Yesterday I didn't have to work, and so admittedly was half-hearted in my dolling up for the day. I met up with my Mumsy on her lunch break, and after she departed I went to the desk to get a free replacement card. The woman behind the counter said, "Ok sure, let's take your picture. I just need your driver's license." Then she got a REAL look at me, and gave me the head to rib cage. Then came a lip bite. Next tumbled out, "Oh...or...uh, I could issue a temporary card, and you could come in another day to take the picture...when you've...." "Got make up on?" "YES!"

????

Later in the day I was vacuuming my car and found the Costco card wedged in a cranny. I am kind of happy about that, though, because I look incredibly asian in my old Costco card and I always get a kick out of them doing the double take at the check out line, clearly thinking, "Hmmm, is she trying to pull a fast one on us? This can NOT be her." They don't do it every time, but I always get a chuckle when they do.

Coachizzle Part III

Let's see...where to begin, where to begin.

People Watching never ceases to entertain, most especially while you're at a concert. Coachella was no exception -- in fact, it set the bar, and somewhere out in Jupiter's orbit.  While there was the occasional Lacoste polo shirt + loafers + Suddenly Silver couple, I'd say the sweeping majority consisted of 21st Century Hippies. Guess what, though: you can't be a hippie and shop at Target.  I don't know where hippies are permitted to shop, but I'm pretty sure if the Hippie Council found out you'd swiped your hemp debit card at Target, you'd get excommunicated.  I saw the same dress (the fashion industry calls it a "Maxi" dress, Jeff calls it a "Pioneer" dress) about a bajillion times, and I have one, and bought it with the gift card from Shauna, so...there. The proof is in the pudding.  Wannabe 21st Century Hippies.  And they were all over the moon about the fact that they were at a festival that quacked and walked like a Woodstock.  And you know what Woodstock meant, it meant (or so I hear) lots and lots of P to the Ot.

Which brings me to my next item.  You don't "burn one down" anymore.  You "sesh."  If I had a nickel for every time I heard, "Ah, man, we gotta sesh!" I would be able to quit my job and be a full time groupie for The Killers.  Brando was just telling us the tale of being burned by a cigarette at Coachella 2008 when a "sesh-ing" group above/next to us surrendered a burning ash and guess where it landed.  All for the love of the music.  

And I'm prone to over-analyzing, but I'm just NOT going to think about the possible reasons why I was more hungry after the concert than I've ever been in my ENTIRE LIFE.  Why, oh why did Jeff and I down a bag of peanut covered pretzels, every crumb inside that big Fritos bag, and half a bag of trail mix after we found our car in the dusty parking lot?  "Dude, munchies.  Who wants some munchies?  Hey, where's my office?!  I totally lost it!"  Name the tv show and episode.

And now, some visuals:

Pretty.

When one has tired of his mannequin, he has tired of life and all that it has to offer.

This is my boyfriend Jeff, and he likes to party.

No, I wasn't extremely tickled about having a VIP Pass or anything.  Why?

My sister calls us "Jeredith."

Brando's hard core.

No words.  Not one.

Erica and Robert, we will so babysit for free.

Coachizzle Part II

I lied.  Coachizzle Part III will be societal observations, and Part II is video.  Why I am putting on these videos I know not, because I rarely watch blog videos.  I never seem to be in the right place to do it (ie I'm at work when I read the blog).  Further mystery stems from the fact that I am hardly a videographer.  Half way through I start bouncing around because I just get to feelin that rhythm so much.  And my viewers become sea sick.  BUT I post just in case, I suppose.  In this first video you'll see Brandon "Brando" Brown rockin out, and my boo, who is also busy with a video of his own.  And, of course, the men of the hour on stage. I just knew they were going to open with this song. Maybe I'm psychic...or maybe it was just a hit single they released.

Next video. Have you seen The Holiday? If you have, you'll know why I'm screaming like a maniac one line of lyrics. I did that for you, Elizabean. This song is just way too much fun. Sam and Sadie used to LOVE rocking out to this song with me and Elizabeth in their kitchen while making dinner; they'd request it all the time. It's unfortunate that now Sam's old enough to catch on to the...ahem...more mature lyrical content. And with that rosy introduction, I give you:

Coachizzle Part I

If you have not seen The Killers live, make haste! Put thy limbs to merriment and march ye to the Woodstock of the new year! Have you ever been to a concert where you felt sure they picked the set list based on your every wish? Brandon Flowers is a total hunk in 3-D, by the way. A reluctant distant second to my date, but still nice to look at. I think one of the best things about going to a concert is you see in what sort of a jig the performers engage themselves. There have been some good ones in years past. G-love sat on a bar stool and slapped his knees together as if to guard the beat, Paul McCartney bounced a little -- less vigorously than he did as a 20 year old heart throb, but this is to be expected for a 60-something year old heart throb. Chris Martin did a variety of "I'm standing on hot coals" hops, heel clicks, and "kneel-on-the-ground and sing to the dust bunnies"s. Anyway, last night I got to collect a few more jiggy jigs. The Killers have a fantastic stage presence and it's clear that while they are all feeling that music, it's not in a postured or obnoxious way. It makes you feel warm and fuzzy they get to do what they so clearly love, and make some piles of money at it. What a great show; my affections for them just chugged an energy drink.

M.I.A. thud wold democracy, I got mo recods than the KGB...

I'm not going to spend too much time talking about her performance because the memory of the fog horns that some IDIOT on her tour crew thought would be just BRILLIANT to blast every 5 SECONDS might bring back the headache that it gave me last night. Besides that major lapse in performance sanity, she was pretty good, very casual. She talked about her baby a bit, and said, "I just wont you to know, just because I went and did the Grammies, doesn't mayn I gone and so'd out." Oh phew, because evolving from fog horns would be bad, very bad for the integrity of her craft.

Now concludes Part I. Part II's publication date is at the mercy of Jeff, for he was the dominating photographer of the evening, and Part II's purpose is visual and societal observations of the wonder that is/was Coachella.

Peace, love, and second hand dope.

UK Elle

Today I was in Barnes & Noble on my lunch break, walkin around lookin around, picking up this, reading the last page of that, when I found myself in the periodicals.  I saw Jennifer Aniston giving all us shoppers a sultry glance by way of Elle magazine.  I wanted to see if she would mention in this article anything about the demise of her and John Mayer.  Not that I'll ever know John Mayer personally, and I can't help being annoyed with myself for even caring in the first place, but he seems like a world class rug burn to me.  I enjoy from time to time his music, I appreciate his abilities, but the love stops there.  I wanted to know where her love stopped, because I have an inquiring mind.  And I like to do mindless things for an hour of every day (if not many more).

Anyway, I started reading the article, and I was floored, yes, floored.  Instead of being this toady, kiss-up article written by a cool-kid table back scratcher (like every article in a fashion magazine seems to be), it was crisp, it was melodic, the sentence structure was here and there, it was fun to read.  In the most splendid, snappy way ever conceived, the person who wrote this article whipped up a piece about an ordinary person with a high profile job, and served it a flambé.  I kept thinking, "Ooooh that's the coolest way to say that!  WHY I didn't think of that first!!!"  as I often do when I'm reading things written by Oscar Wilde, David Sedaris, Louise Plummer, Ann Dee Knight, Annie Garlock Reynolds, and Ken Craig.

About the time my ears had started smoking for both thrill and envy, I turned over this magazine and saw that it was the British copy of Elle magazine.  3 pounds 50.  Of course. (!!!)

Bah, must the English beat us at ALL things artistic?

But anyway, it was another one of those, "you lazy git" moments.  If I ever had any talent in writing, I certainly haven't been doing anything to fluff and primp it for the last several months.  In so many ways and for some lame reason (I can't afford to have a shrink analyze why) I've stopped trying to better myself at something I do love to do.  I usually stop writing well when I start worrying so much about what other people will think of it.  Anyway, as Yoda might have said, "Wake up call I had," and I need to put writing back into my brain, and work on it in the miscellaneous areas of life, like this here bloggy blog.  

I bought the UK Elle, to remind me.  And it cost an arm and a leg, thankyouverymuch weakened dollar.

The End

Yes I know that's not Jennifer Aniston, but this is apparently last month's UK Elle, and this is a much more modest outfit, and Gwyneth Paltrow is my favorite actress.