I'm Flattered?

I just went to 7-Eleven for my huge midday coffee.
While I was fixing my coffee, a gentleman looked at my feet and said, "Girl -- those are some pretty toes you got on you."

Day Care is Hilarious

http://reportsfromdaycare.blogspot.com/

A blog I almost forgot about -- actual reports that Avery got from the teacher at her first day care.

Consequences Of My Actions

Must Be God's Will

There's a guy I dated my freshman year of college that I have always sorta carried a torch for.

I dated him for a few weeks my very first month of college -- then we saw each other once or twice a year throughout the rest of my college days. He was a year older, good-looking, funny, smart and just seemed so grown up. Smitten, I was. Especially after a romantic camping trip with his suitemates and their dates where neither of us remembered to pack a sleeping bag or blankets. Oops.

The last time I saw him was at homecoming nine years ago -- I know that, because I had just gotten engaged. We sort of randomly ran into each other and talked for about half an hour and that old feeling was there again. (You know the one -- where you don't date someone long enough to know about all their annoying habits or even to understand that they're human -- he existed in my memory as the perfect guy.) We had so much fun catching up and talking about old times.

I saw the Class Notes in my alumni magazine recently that mentioned he's a professor at JMU now, after getting his Master's and Ph.D. from UVA. Impressive, sure. Not so impressive? When I visited his faculty web site (had to see a recent picture, puh-leeze) I noticed that he lists his hobbies as "distance running, reading and bible study."

Bible study? Really? It's like I never knew him at all. >sigh<

Cockey

Cockey gets his own post because he's, well...Cockey. This is him visiting over Christmas. He never announces a visit -- just shows up. So this is me wearing sunglasses with my hair pulled back in a ponytail -- hiding the fact that I have not showered or put on makeup because I was not expecting him. Cockey and I met when we worked together for a network security company. His boss was a pompous ass who totally dug me. My boss was a homosexual who (I mistakenly thought) totally dug me. (Note to chicks: when a guy mentions that he likes your shoes or notes what you're wearing every day, it may not be because he digs you -- especially if he has a tiny dog named "Poopies").

Where was I? Ah, yes...Cockey sat near me in the office and decided that we would be friends after he saw an e-mail my mother sent me that included a video clip of a woman with enormous boobs running topless down a beach. You have to know my mom. Cockey decided that he had to know me. Thus, a friendship was born.

Cockey was married to a cool woman named Amanda at the time. They were such a good couple that when he told me they were divorcing a couple of years (and one move to Boston) later, I thought he was kidding me. Wasn't kidding. Also wasn't kidding about his subsequent move to LA to try and make it in the movie business.

One year out in Hell-ay and Cockey did a bunch of extra work, and also landed a speaking/recurring role on a (now-cancelled) TV show called Threshold. (He's on IMDB.com -- Jeff Cockey -- he looks hot in his pictures, but he's a goon.) He's doing okay -- supporting himself with acting. And some writing. And probably some male prostitution...but we're not here to judge.

Every year when we make our pilgrimage to LA, we see him, go to the Vanity Fair party (which he snuck into one year -- greatest acting job of his life), and go out in West Hollywood -- to places like Chi and the Forty Deuce (or is it now Hyde and Les Deux?)

I've already told him that when he hits it really big, I want to be his publicist. I can't wait for all the trouble he will likely get into, when I get to claim he's simply "exhausted."

Merry Go Round

From the trip to Bethany last week.
I'll miss this age. (Hers, not mine.)

This was at "Funland", which is an egregious misnomer based on the number of kids either crying or being yelled at while they were there.

Runner's High

This morning at 7:30am EST, Amanda and I went for a 6-mile run. This may be the first time in SIX YEARS OF RUNNING that I think I actually got the runner's high from the endorphins. Or maybe it was the pot.

You Can Quote Me on That

I have a quote board in my kitchen. A place where I can write funny lines from comedians, politicians, movies, TV shows, etc. Just a place where I can document something amusing and then chuckle to myself as I read it over the next couple of days.

Recently, I saw Borat on a rerun of Saturday Night Live. Knowing my friend, Amy, would be stopping by in the next few days, I decided to quote him -- one of the best quotes from his movie that I knew would make Amy wet her Spanx -- "their vagines hang loose...like the sleeves of wizards."

Of course, in all the hilarity, I forgot that my in-laws were babysitting tonight -- and that my father-in-law always reads the quote board when he comes into the house.

How does one gracefully apologize for the "loose vagines" reference?

One of the reasons I love my job

I sit next to two guys at work that I adore.

Why?

One was on the phone today trying to track down new eyes for his girlfriend's teddy bear -- she's had it since she was two and their dog recently ate the teddy bear's eyes.

The other stopped by my desk yesterday to tell me that he had overslept that morning and was so tired when he woke up that he put his underpants on backwards. He didn't realize it for a few minutes -- until he discovered something "just didn't feel right."

At least she'll be the best communicator in her remedial classes

This morning, Avery's teacher (Jami) told me that she did Avery's evaluation this week and that she is speaking at a pre-school level. She said that Avery speaks in complex sentences and is very far ahead of the other kids in her class. Jami said that when Avery wants more milk, she'll say, "I need more milk, please, Jami" whereas the other kids her age will just say, "more."

Clearly a genius, right?

Along these same lines, I could not find Avery's doll's underpants at home...and when I dropped her off this morning, I saw them in her school cubby. Jami said, "Um...she was trying to put those on the other day"

Good thing there's no evaluation for that.

Poseurs

We're headed to Bethany Beach on Sunday for a few days with our friends who own a beach house there. They're the same friends who belong to the Army Navy Country Club, so we go there with them sometimes, too.

This means that we get to live like we're rich without actually being rich -- one of the many ways that we're exactly like Kato Kaelin.

(Note to self: remember to put everything on the Underhill tab)

The Naked Truth

I had Avery with me in my bedroom one day while I was taking a shower -- it was a while ago, because I remember that she had just started talking.

Anyway, I stepped out of the shower and was drying off in the bedroom. She stopped what she was doing and looked me up and down for a solid minute and then voiced her assessment of my naked body: a concerned, "Oh, No!"

I know I probably shouldn't dwell too much on a one-year old's assessment, but I'd be lying if I said that this didn't influence the consultation I just scheduled at the plastic surgeon's office.

Vita Brevis

Best baby gift, ever, from my

friend, Jimmy Koons.

I love creative people.

The artist and his wife, Cathy.

Learning more than I think

Over the July 4th holiday, we had a cookout and had some friends over. I was drinking a Dogfish Head beer and talking to a group of people.

Avery walked by and I said to the group, "Avery is learning all about the ocean at school" then pointed to the fish logo on my bottle and said "Avery, what is this?"

To which she immediately replied, "beer"

Can You Believe There Has Never Been A Horror Movie About This?

Every year, we buy some ridiculous toys for Oktoberfest from Stupid.com -- they are windup, hopping lederhosen. Just the lederhosen -- no small, plastic person INSIDE the ledershoen...just lederhosen. And they hop. I'm sure there were no controlled substances involved in the conception of that toy.

This year, I found the Cadillac of windup, hopping lederhosen -- remote-controlled yodeling lederhosen. These are much larger and the remote control is shaped like a bratwurst. You press the button on the plastic bratwurst, and these plastic lederhosen hop around in a circle and yodel.

Avery is so scared of these yodeling plastic lederhosen that she will grab my leg and not let go and say "lederhosen" in this whiny little voice with a sad face and a lip quiver. Of course, we are torn between not wanting to traumatize her, and the sheer comic value this provides (which do you think usually wins out?).

The other night she was being naughty and Tim said to her, "Am I going to have to go get the lederhosen?" and she said, "NO LEDERHOSEN" and ran into the corner of the room and hid behind a chair.

Fast forward 20 years:
(Avery's psychiatrist, with concern): "So, Avery, tell me...when did this unnatural fear of German leather pants begin?"