Blog

A Big Dose Of Darcy

2010-03-09T04:56:45Z

All of us chickens are lounging around our troublesome telly tonight watching the silly movie What A Girl Wants. Now we don't give a flip for Amanda Bynes, it's the adorable Colin Firth as Lord Dashwood that has us tied up in knots.

We've been watching the 6 hours of the BBC's Pride and Prejudice for many years. I like to pretend I'm the vexed into a chronic state of nervous breakdown ala Mrs Bennett until my teens start throwing pillows and pelting me with ice cubes to make me stop.

I don't know why her shizzle about needing to take to her bed never works for me. My family would simply let me succumb to my vapors alone in my room and be miffed at my inability to give them a ride somewhere.

I've never mastered the art of throwing a righteously dramatic fit. When I was in 5th grade my mom took me shoe shopping. All the girls my age were bigger than me so they had graduated out of the children's shoe department. Me, not so much. My mother was not moved by my dramatic angst over being stuck in a child's fashion warp. This was a long time ago when kid's shoes were not tiny replicas of current women's fashions.

Did my mother take one ounce of pity on me? No, she was annoyed with me to say the least. Many decades later...I have often been accused of having no pity for my children's situations. The apple don't fall far from the tree.

I'm far too practical to be good a pitching fits, because who ends up cleaning up the mess? The first year of marriage I threw a jar of pickles at my husband's head. I found out it was not an effective method of conflict resolution and the momentary vengeance surge I felt upon pitching that jar was not worth the energy it took to clean up the mess (nor the continued conflict with my spouse).

Let's get back to a more intriguing subject than the origins of my personality, my Oscar night observations. Not that I have many astute original thoughts on a show that is usually a bit torturous for me to try to watch. I don't get excited about sifting through hours of viewing time for 15 minutes of juice. Twittering made it a little bit more interesting so my boredom threshold was tolerated a bit longer than normal.

Matthew Broderick & Colin Firth

I didn't realize he was nominated for his role in A Single Man despite confessing our favor of the actor. So I'm putting that movie on my to do list. The John Hughes tribute was nicely done, warming my heart and reminding me of my fondness for Ferris Bueller and Matthew Broderick. That leads me to my snarky observation about the weirdness resting atop of Sarah Jessica Parker's head. I'm thinking The Bloggess was way ahead of the curve regarding the popularity of wearing cats as head dressing.

There were two delightful moments that stood out for me this year. I thoroughly enjoyed Kathryn Bigelow winning the best director category giving her arrogant ex-husband Mr I'm King of the World James Cameron a very cool beat down for all the world to see.

Last but not least I thought Sandra Bullock rocked the night with her look, the grace in which she conducted herself and her absolutley engaging and original acceptance speech when named best leading actress for her role in The Blind Side.

When you think about it, her win for portraying Leigh Ann Touhy in the Blind Side and the awards associated with the film The Hurt Locker both shared the theme of courage.

One a fantasic visual on the war front unquestionably demonstating the courage of the troops in Iraq. But The Blind Side, more subtly made us all appreciate the difference one stubborn and courageous southern woman made.

She had one of the best quotes of the night when she ended her speech accepting the award for "the moms that take care of the babies and children, no matter where they came from".

Show Me What? & Other Random Thoughts

2010-03-02T15:34:13Z

SHOW ME WHAT???

Call SCI, NCIS, Jack Bauer, Law & Order because I think we are onto a new method of identification of persons of interest, dead bodies, amnesia victims, you name it!

I got the first hint of it in some magazine articles this past year and even on an Oprah show. I’ve got teenage girls, so I’m all over this sexting phenomenon. The consequences which can quickly spiral out of control and land kids being stupid, as teens have been known to be, with a felony record.

I believe my girls have been sufficiently warned and threatened: don’t ever take pictures of your boobage, don’t let anyone else take pictures of you in a comprising state, and if anyone ever sends you a questionable picture delete it and don’t forward it.

But this is something all together different. I didn’t believe the buzz about it until I asked some of my single friends. It seems fellas like to use their cell phone to take pictures of themselves. Of a certain part of themselves, a very important part of themselves. No matter if you're talking to a Chris O"Donnel type or the fattest, homeliest guy in the room it is the source of his pride and joy.

Mayor: You have got to be kidding me?

Dating friend: No. Since I got back onto the dating scene I've noticed that guys just have a tendency to keep a picture of their penis on their cell phone.

Mayor: I think you’re hanging around with the wrong kind of people. What's next, business cards with contact information including a link to their identity pic?

Dating Friend: It’s more common than you would think. It’s kind of like a pop culture thing these days. I went to have a few drinks after work and met this young hot shot stockbroker. I flirted with him and the next thing you know he’s trying to show me a picture of “Mr President“ on his cell phone.

Mayor: I’m so glad not to be single.

I'm going to store this info in the vault and retrieve it when I start thinking the grass is greener on the other side.

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PIMPING FOR WILLIAMS-SONOMA

My husband is a pimp for Williams-Sonoma. That is all there is to it. No matter how much we tighten the budgetary belt, he still cannot resist the lure of the famed kitchen store. I’ve been able to keep a lid on his tripping to the mall, so his opportunity to be tempted has been reduced. It helps that we are down to one car between the two of us, and since I feel it’s a fundamental right for me to have my car available at all times, he usually has no mode of transport.

He needed to go to the Apple Store (another big temptation trap for him) for some help from the geniuses at the bar there. He was gone a suspicious length of time. I was not surprised to hear the familiar sound of him wrestling in some shopping bags and they sounded like they were white with a big green W on them.

I remained tucked in the living room with my laptop, not feeling up to a confrontation. Then I thought maybe I better get my head out of the sand before packaging was wrecked or return stickers obscured. I heard the girls snickering in the kitchen. Oh, you are going to be in so much trouble Dad. If you don’t get rid of that box Mom will just take it back.

The ladies at the Williams-Sonoma store know him pretty well, he loves to buy things for me there. Unfortunately they know me almost as well because they are used to me bringing back half of the stuff he buys. I’ve been accused of being cold hearted and ungrateful, but sometimes hard choices need to be made between paying for teeth cleaning and a multi purpose panini press.

Who knew, in Europe George Clooney hawks Nespresso?

Turns out after a few minutes of hard sell, I caved. We had been having trouble with out coffee maker. A few years ago, we had bought several espresso makers and returned them all due to disatisfaction with the product. Although I’m still not convinced that this thing is saving me any money in the long run, I have to admit I like the convenience of making my lattes at home. The little pods are easy to use and best of all no mess.

Dad, I think she likes it. We can keep it

Disclaimer: The Nespresso machine stayed, but the cute little set of porcelain espresso & saucers went back for being ridiculously priced and impractical.
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SOMEONE'S TRYING TO BUTTER ME UP

My husband suggested I go relax, take a hot bath recently after I was complaining about snow shoveling and a sore shoulder. I drew in a deep breath to argue about how I needed to attend to a few urgent matters, then I clamped my lips shut and thought...why not?

As I climbed the stairs I felt a bit of a prickle on the back of my neck. Was that a good prickle or a bad one?

I entered a warm bathroom since the extra heater was plugged in already and there on top of the counter sat my MacBook Pro playing my Blip.fm playlist starting with my current favorite new song Carry Out by Timbaland and Timberlake, a freshly made decaf latte and a few books by Charlaine Harris of True Blood fame.

I know a set up when I see one.

Don't let the irony escape you that one of the things on my counter I'm listing as my favorites is a latte made in my own kitchen with the Nespresso machine I told my husband he shouldn't have bought.

Right Back Where We Left Off

2010-02-26T19:10:02Z

The frigid Chicago wind blew me in as I opened the door of Bin 36. I walked through the wine bar scanning for my query and I spotted her right away. Still tall and lanky, dark headed, subtly classy and graceful. I strode over and drummed my fingers on the tinny bar top. Instant smiles and hugs. She had ordered a Cosmo, I went for a glass of the house red. We chatted a few minutes as our grown sons arrived and scooted up to the bar.

My experienced lice picking eyes spotted a white speck in her otherwise very dark hair. Naturally I just leaned over and plucked the offending fuzz out of her hair. Right away the Prince is shocked, “ you haven’t seen her in 20 years and you’re picking her head like a mother gorilla?” He continued, asking both of us, “don’t you think that’s a little weird?”

We just looked at each other and cracked up. It should have been odd, but it wasn’t. We were the kind of comfortable neighborhood friends who always had each others back. Peas and carrots. She’s the only thing I missed when we moved away from Chicago. And it was oh so good to share a table with her once again.

Andra & the son who is not a doctor

Ryan, no stranger to fun, tolerated my lick your mother commands

Trio of terror when they were wee tots

When my husband moved me to Chicago in the late 80’s for a climb up the corporate ladder, I was a reluctant participant. I had 3 little babies under the age of 6 and I had just lost my best friend (my mom) to breast cancer. It was the lowest point in my life. I was raw emotionally and functioning like a zombie.

It was a sunny, beautiful day when we pulled into our new neighborhood and stopped in front of our large (in my eyes) new home. I did what many crazy young mothers would do. I burst out in tears (and I am not a crier), “ I don’t want to live here with a bunch of rich snobs.” I have to admit I fought liking anything about our job transfer. But I am, if nothing else, a practical puss. School was starting in one week and I had to deal. So, I did.

Swansway turned out to be, by far the most kickin’ neighborhood I have ever lived in.We lived, loved, fought, cock tailed, birthday partied and had pick up basketball games in each other's driveways. When we were selling our house 3 years later I remember telling buyers, “you may find hundreds of homes around here as nice, or nicer than this one, but you will not find a better bunch of neighbors.” And I can honestly say all of my 8 neighborhoods since then have been a disappointment. I’m still looking for a place that compares.

Andra comes from a big Greek family and her husband Mike was from a big Irish gang. I was fascinated by them. We had children around the same ages and we all clicked. Even Raymondo, who tends to be an introvert, couldn’t resist their magnetic pull. We were willingly sucked into their ethnic gregariousness and enjoyed every minute of it. We traded kids, recipes, ideas, secrets. When having to run out to do a preschool pick up we’d drop off the handset of the baby monitor so we would’t have to wake up napping wee ones. That’s trust!

I think I learned the art of hospitality from this friend of mine. She’s an intuitive cook capable of hosting large gatherings with amazing food. Yet she could make a party on the spot with a couple cans of tuna fish, bread and salad out of nothing. I was always so jealous she could dress a salad perfectly by shaking in some red wine vinegar, olive oil, salt and pepper. I’m still making several of her family recipes on a regular basis, and now my grown kids are repeating the process.

One night, after having had a couples night out for dinner, Andra called to announce she was in labor. We shared a history of having a baby born at home. Armed with a fancy camera and their video camera, I recorded their only daughter’s birth. Let me tell you this tall Greek knew how to get down to business when it came to birthing babies! A few hours later I was back at home in bed basking in the nuance that only comes with the smell of amniotic fluid, blood and a newborn’s cry. (Sorry if that is too graphic for some of you weenies).

A few years after our move from the Chicago area,we met up to go on a trip to California together for an extended weekend. It was March and the weather was dreary and drizzly. Not exactly what you travel to the west coast for.

We spent one morning out in the weather at the San Diego Zoo. This is where my husband received his nick name of Rain man. He doesn’t always play well with others, forever wandering around to the beat of his own drummer. After losing him several times, Andra’s husband Mike (who is funny let me tell you) saddled him with that moniker and it’s pretty much stuck and gotten shortened to Ray and transitioned into Raymondo, in honor of the popular Tom Cruise/Dustin Hoffman movie Rain Man.

Mike was probably fantasizing being Tom Cruise while imagining my husband in the role of Ray. After 2 days we gave up and drove to Palm Springs to spend a few days in sunny desert warmth.

Thanks to the wonders of social media we have reconnected some 20 years later. You may be wondering why, if we were such similar peas in a pod, we didn’t do a better job staying in touch?

The things that we had in common got in the way of that, I’d have to say. We expanded our families since then, she has 4 boys and 1 girl. I have 5 girls and 1 boy. Both being creative, ambitious and strong women, we share having the role of being the rock of our families. That job description is all encompassing in the time and energy department and leaves time for little else. If you are the rock in your family, you know exactly what I mean.

Do we look like rocks? I assure you, we are

When your bosom buddy is not readily available at the whisper in a phone or a baby monitor... you cope and life goes on. Considering our age, I think we’re both still smokin’ hot. After as many babies as we have had no one could blame us if we had gone to fat or taken to padding around in house dresses and slippers.

It’s given me a gift to rekindle my love for this woman. I’m flooded with memories I didn’t even remember I had. Yet, you know how it is when you look someone else in the face and you recognize the look of pain buried deep in the eyes? The economy of the Midwest in particular, and life in general has taken a toll on the both of us. I know it without even asking. The older I get, the more I recognize that no matter how perfect someone’s life looks, I guarantee you it isn’t. Everyone has their stuff to deal with.

Later that night, cleaning up the kitchen at the pimp pad, my son had some astute observations. He was truly amazed that his old buddy’s mother and I would still have so much in common after all these years. We have been traveling a similar and parallel path. Finally, he met another peer’s mother who is so fiercely connected to their adult children, without being overbearing. “My God Mom, she’s just like you! She likes to hang out, and you can see they like hanging out with her too! She just mans up and hops the train to Chicago on a whim, exactly the same thing you’ve been known to do.”

It’s true. Two woman whose paths crossed a couple decades ago.

I do declare the conversation between us has just begun again.

He Had Me At Hello: Harry Connick Jr At Bllissdom

2010-02-13T07:19:15Z

My plane landed smoothly in Nashville, TN on February 4th, which happens to be my birthday. The day had not gotten off to a great start. My lovely husband picked that as the time for him to rudely express his frustration with me for an ongoing conflict. Like my anxiety is not all ready over the top trying to leave my family and all the obligations behind for a week.

I was determined to make a fresh start to the day. When I opened up my computer at the airport I observed a delightful amount of birthday greetings for me via facebook, twitter and emails.

Luckily, my roomie for the conference went along with the plan to stop at the nearest liquor store before we got sucked into the vortex to another time continuum called Gaylord's Opryland Resort.You'll have to check out her collection of Elvis wines and read about our finding our room escapades. Our romp through the bio domes rainforest to find our room while toting numerous bags left us moist and frazzled.

I like to unpack and organize as soon as I get in the room. But whacking our way through the jungle in the hunt for our room in the Magnolia section left me in need of an RP (rest period) with feet up on bed. Too geared up to really rest, I decide it's time to get the party started.

Ice was located. Glass tumblers (so much better than plastic or foam). Bliss (in room) bar and a refreshing beverage helped cool us down. We reviewed our Blissdom schedules and made some strategic decisions....ladies.start.your.engines!

There were ice breakers, business card exchanges, babies in strollers,lots of laughter and photogramommies run amok with their pro style cameras intimidating the heck out of my pocket sized digital. I won a cookbook by Food Network's George Duran who surprised us with a couple of cooking demonstrations at our humble gathering.

Friday there was so much to take in. People, computers, seminars. I felt like the snotty girl pulling up my twitter while my instructor chattered on, but it was what we were supposed to do. Not only is Twitter handy for finding your roommate in a sea of women, it was up my alley to receive snarky ongoing commentary in real time (hey, it's what we do). I was amazed constantly by the creativity and genius around me.

Now the ladies (and the token men) were all a flutter anticipating the arrival of Harry Connick Jr and his band for our private concert. I thought it would be cool but in the back of my head I was all, man couldn't they have reeled in Justin Timberlake? I'm crazy for him and his sometimes sidekick/producer Timbaland. They are Tennessee boys and do gooders so I thought they would have been a good fit.

Harry Connick Jr & his awesome band

And then it happened. His handsome self took the stage and he had me at hello. Launching in to a self deprecating message of admiration for strong woman who know how to get things done. His charm grew by the minute as he spoke of the influential females in his life including his wife of 20 years, 3 daughters, his accomplished sister serving in the military. This guy was the real deal.He related how he was happy to be speaking to a group of communicators who could muster their brains, compassion and technology to make significant contributions to society.

Harry Connicks band

OK so they didn't sound like Justin Timberlake, but at that moment when it felt like they were playing individually to you it more than made up for that. The fact that the band members were each so expert with their particular instrument made them a dream team to listen to.

As Harry closed out the show and wandered around to the photo line in the back the rest of us slowly made our way out onto the dance floor with a new DJ taking over.

Our fun was so irresistible that before we knew it several of the band members had come through the middle of the crowd to join the crazy dance party that was ensuing. I'll give them a lot of credit for courage in dropping it like it's hot in a gigantic vat of estrogen fueled by some liquor and a corporate post Harry adrenaline surge. It's a wonder they didn't get eaten alive!

Who would have know that Harry's band members enjoyed dancing to Justin Timberlake tunes as much as I do?

Dumbing Down Our Sense Of Direction

2010-02-03T04:03:07Z

For decades men have abhorred having to stop somewhere to as directions. The popularity of the Garmin, TomTom, the Magellan have ushered in a new era. The very same electronic tools may lead to the ruination of the male species.

30 years from now every male in a Sun City retirement village will have to wear a GPS necklace to make the journey from their Thursday afternoon Euchre club to the dining hall in time for dinner.

What man doesn’t love a gadget ? So if they can have a gadget that tells them (in a female voice) where to go turn by turn its a win win. They don’t give another thought to how they are retraining their brain to be directionally dysfunctional. They will begin drooling over every new and improved model they get a news flash on.

In my family it seems the more complicated the object, the more esteem it is held in. In 2004 my husband had the sales guy from the local electronics store come train him and install our new all in one remote which operated a whole cabinets worth of audio-visual equipment. The thing was lovely. You would have thought it was a magician in a box the way all of the male visitors to our household were captivated by it’s sleek design and seamless operation.

Bad Baby broke the remote

That was until one of the children pushed one wrong button in the sequence and there was no coming back from the remote hell it sent us to. Many a family feud was sparked by that remote and we learned an important lesson....if it requires one on one in home training to turn on my television, it is something I can live without.

On our recent trip to Austin we rented several cars. My husband travels a lot and earned his way to a free week from Hertz. He never leaves the parking lot without the Never Lost system. I rent my own vehicle for this trip, equipped with a trusty map and the Frequently Lost (or at least turned around) System.

We approach travel from very different perspectives. He’s usually on business. You land in your target city’s airport, pick up your car, have no idea how to get around. The GPS navigational systems allows you to plug in your destination’s address and you’re off to close the deal, viola, as simple as that. He only stays as long as the task takes and then he’s out of there.

When I travel I’m usually there for a longer stay, maybe a combination business/pleasure type of trip. I’ll do research on what to see, where to stay, where to eat, etc. I’ll read consumer reviews, make notes and click on maps for all the things that have piqued my interest. So when I arrive I already have a vague outline in my head of where things are.

I don’t have a GPS in my own car. When I rent a car I always shop around for the best deal and I hesitate to spend the extra money for the navigation system. There are times I wish I had one, like when you’re trying to see addresses on unfamiliar buildings or homes. I’ll fully admit the little devils can increase efficiency, which is important to me.

Figuring out what route to take on a road trip is like completing a puzzle, sort of a road Suduko. Sure I get turned around every now and then. I occasionally pass my exit, pass my destination or head out the wrong way. In finding the method of correcting myself I often learn things about the area I might not have known. Like the location of that hole in the wall taco stand. I learn alternate routes and develop my cache of data about my target area and into the vault it goes, to reside there until I need to recall it.

I like to think of it as exploration, not just getting from point A to point B. In the end I think you get a much better lay of the land. Not that being lost isn’t frustrating. I also don’t really like to ask for directions. According to most Austin residents, when ever I asked how long will this take the standard answer was, “about 20 minutes”. I found that not to be true frequently on my travels around that place.

I think the experiment of having one car with it, and one car without proves my theory that relying on a navigation system satisfies the need for instant gratification, but it also makes us lazy and eventually directionally challenged. By the end of the week I had a competent grasp on how to get around between Lake Travis, Austin and my hotel.

Who knows how much knowledge sunk into my husbands head, because he continued to drive around with that annoying directional bitch telling him every little thing, even though he had gone to the same Home Depot 4 times that week.

Men. Who can understand them?

How Could I Not Like A Place Called Moonshine?

2010-02-01T16:31:30Z

As a child I spent a good part of every summer in the Smoky Mountains of North Carolina. My meemaw used to tell us tales of shooing revenuers off family property so they couldn't find the family still. I never saw a still, but I did see people produce jugs of moonshine once in a while.

We just happened to be visiting Austin in December. It wasn't until we strolled the different downtown districts (6th Street, Warehouse district, Congress, Lamar) that we came to realize we were there during the valley season (as opposed to peak).

I wouldn't go as far to say that they all but rolled up the sidewalks, but it was a bit lonely at times. As lonely as one can be when spending time with your large, extended family. My point is we didn't get the full Austin experience of their entertainment district because the week between Christmas and New Years is a very popular time for the residents to vacate elsewhere.

Being one of the few tourists enjoying the warm weather (the Texans thought we were crazy to be excited about 50 degrees) made it easy to get dinner reservations anywhere we wanted. Upon the recommendation of my happy Texan friend Stiletto Mom we found our dinner spot for the night. Moonshine Patio Bar & Grill on Red River Street is housed in a building that is part of the historical Waterloo Compound, one of Austin's oldest groupings of commercial buildings.

The patio looked like a perfect outdoor spot, enclosed, with festive lights and firelplaces. Unfortunately they weren't seating outside that day (probably to avoid staff rebellion against cold working conditions). So our next idea was to check out the bar as we had read about several concoctions they are known for.

Inside the lighting was just right and and the rough light limestone walls were a great contrast to the gleaming wood bar. We got started right away with a Cucumber Cosmo Martini ($7) and Harvest Moon Tea ($7), some of the house specialties. That Harvest Moon Tea was a stealth glass of goodness. The kind that could divest you of your panties if you weren't careful (and you wouldn't even know it). Very sneaky indeed!

Tres amigos enjoying the scene

We were hitting our stride when they led us back to an interior room to be seated. We were all hungry so we got right down to business. We got the party started with Beer Battered Asparagus with Buttermilk Ranch and some calamari. I returned from a quick time away from the table to find the tasty treats to be eaten beyond the photo op stage so you'll have to take my word for it, it was good.

The staff was freindly and competant, easily picking up our cues on speed of service. We were a decisive bunch that night and they kept things moving without rushing us. A good time was had by all evidenced by the fact we actually managed to all complete our meal and cash out without anyone straying from the table.

Jalapeno Hanger Steak with Scallion Butter

We dug into our entrees and we all agreed that mine was an taste bud delighting Extravaganza. I love a well balanced looking meal, cooked perfectly by someone other than me. The smaller servings of veggies that accompanied everyone's meal just fulfilled that desire for variety, to keep things from getting boring.

Horseradish Crusted Salmon was very tasty

A big hit with our crowd that night was the Moonshine Macaroni & Cheese. This dish was one hot mess of creamy goodness. My daughter was delighted with her plain kid style bowl while the rest of us got the full monty with the jazzed up edition that included some green spicy goodies mixed in. It was quite unique, maybe the secret ingredient has something to do with the moonshine?

White Chocolate Bread Pudding with raisins, pecans & Bourbon Sauce

Par for the course, a fight just about broke out seeing who could be the quick draw on the dessert. They didn't listen when I recommended we order a Skillet Apple Pie or the Fudge Stout Brownie with Chocolate Malt Ball Ice Cream also. We came out of there with one chipped finger nail so I can't complain.

Next time we are in Austin we are going to be returning to Moonshine, especially to enjoy the patio. I've since read that the brunch there is outstanding starting out with $3.50 Mimosas and Bloody Mary's. Not to mention all the other menu items we didn't have a chance to try.

By the way you're going to be brave enough to try the moonshine. It will remain a mystery if we made good on the threat to sneak back in to the bar and try a shot of their White Lightening spiked with peach.

The Hurricane & The Homeless Guy

2010-01-26T03:42:45Z

Last month the whole Sasstown crew headed to Austin to spend time with family there. My 18 year old traveled separately and met up us after we had been there a few days. We had a lively conversation at dinner, anticipating what her arrival would be like. Because we never know what to expect.

You see we are all secretly (who am I kidding it’s not a secret) afraid of her. She can be really mean.

I blame it on her dramatic birth in the back of our Dodge minivan. Or on the unfortunate incident that occurred on my watch when she was 12 months old (fell down the stairs, broken femur). Spending 6 weeks in a body cast will do weird things to your personality. It’s unfortunate but true.

This girl has mood swings like no other. One moment she is talking faster than a speeding bullet, the next she is brazenly bossing one of us around. Then she blows. All in her own self obsessed universe. It’s kind of like living with a hurricane...enjoy the peace of the eye...because it’s a temporary respite.

We decided to figure out exactly how weird Austin really is and the only way to do that is by foot.

She had borrowed her sisters new ankle boots that day because wearing them just made her feel...absolutely bitchin’. Strolling the downtown streets of Austin in a herd. Exploring for hours. Moving fast. Covering ground. Late in the cool December afternoon we landed at the Halcyon-Coffee-Bar-Lounge, a very nifty place on W. 4th.

Some of us opted for lattes and some of us decided it was late enough to start a true happy hour. It was artsy, friendly and warm inside. I’m a sucker for interior brick walls with art. Beverages were savored and someone wasn't getting enough sympathy for her boo boos.

It was decided that no matter how cool Halcyon was, she needed to put a little space between herself and her people. After asking the friendly bartender/latte maker for a few band aids (remember the cute boots...) she took her seething self outside to self soothe. While tending her now raw bleeding toes while sitting on the cement curb this understated interaction took place.

Homeless Guy: Wow, that looks painful. Are you OK?

Hurricane: Yeah, I walked way too far in my sister’s boots (shrugging her head in the direction of our group inside). Look at this mess.

Homeless Guy: I lost my toenail on Monday. It was gross. I slept in the garage over there for a few days so I wouldn’t have to deal with anybody.

Hurricane: Sounds good to me. Sorry about that. Want a band-aid? I can go inside and get more.

Homeless Guy: Nah. But can I have a couple bucks, go get myself a sandwich?

Hurricane: Sorry Dude, I’m broke. You can have this, flipping him a quarter.

You just never know. The funny thing about her is when she's bad, she's very very bad. And when she's good she is AWESOME. She took charge of her Texas cousins little kids. She took charge of serving dinner to our group of 20. She took charge of her cousins new Great Dane puppy.

playing with Claire

putting Zak to sleep

Hula Hut with her big bro

with her sisters at Hey Cupcake

We were really quite shocked at how long we were able to vacate together with minimal drama. My husband and I thought, "maybe she really is maturing". She totally went out her way everyday to be helpful. That is so weird. I tucked her on a plane back to Detroit and met up with her at home a few days later.

Opened the mail and now I know what we observed was kissing up big time. $175 moving violation committed by hers truly. You got some splaining to do missy.

Jack Is Back...And So Is My Premier Status

2010-01-21T04:06:24Z

Jack is back with a vengeance and he’s brought Freddie Prince Jr with him. After a ho-hum season last year, this week’s 4 hour premier is reestablishing 24’s status as the show to watch.

Chloe, along with her signature eye rolling and geeky-sly ways, seems to be taking a more prominent roll. By the end of the 4th hour she managed to come from behind to raise her value in the eyes of her new boss who seemed to be on a roll to get rid of her during the first few episodes.

I’m not really a Kiefer Southerland fan (I’ve heard he’s a real jerk) but I am a Jack Bauer fan. This season he’s starting out all warm and fuzzy, babysitting his adorable little grand daughter and planning to move to LA to live near them. Of course those plans get waylaid in the first 30 minutes. Enter a Russian mob villain looking to do very bad things. They bring former FBI agent Renee back since she’s experienced going deep under cover in Russia. Ten minutes later we find out “we have to be careful to handle this by the books” Renee can now cut off a Russian guys thumb with a power saw without feeling a bit of moral ambiguity.

I know Jack wants to be retired but I think we need to get him to the Midwest to interrogate the Christmas Diaper bomber. Let’s get someone on this guy to find out what all we can expect to be facing here in the next year. Last season I made the mistake of getting all excited about Jack Being Back. So far I think I see a glimmer of hope for a bang up season.

Just as suddenly as Jack has reappeared, so it seems has my Gap Silver Status.

You might recall that last year during the big financial crisis I did what any sane person would do. I cut back on my spending and was rewarded by being downgraded from my premier shopping status.

The funny thing is I haven’t bought a single thing from the Gap all year. However between my clothing needs and that of 3 teenagers I have rung up necessities at Banana Republic and Old Navy...where I also use my Gap card. But they say I've earned my way back to a special status and as far as I can tell the only perk I would enjoy is free hemming ( a good thing because I am short).

Maybe my special status is supposed to make me feel special enough to be more shopative whenever I walk into the store?

Raymondo is doing his part to help the economy. Monthly flights to the west coast and several over to Sweden has helped burn up enough jet fuel to quickly reestablish his platinum status with the airlines. Now that makes him really happy since it does help him with the perks that help making traveling more palatable for my road warrior. That premium leg room seat, the occasional auto bump up to first class and the special security line assures him that he is indeed special.

Just ask George Clooney who portrays American Airlines king of the frequent fliers in the thought provoking movie Up In The Air. It was painful for those of us living in Michigan to watch this bittersweet story from the director of Juno, Jason Reitman. But the discomfort was balanced out by the touching mentor relationship that Clooney (reluctantly at first) develops with his young ambitious associate. Clooney nails his part as a well seasoned road warrior working the travel perks system for all that it is worth.

Of course all the perks in the world do not make us feel special enough to forget about the Christmas day bombing attempt on the very Northwest Airlines route my husband frequently travels from Amsterdam to Detroit. As with most frequent fliers he thinks the TSA is a joke and he sleeps with one eye open on his international flights. Well, he says he does but I have my doubts. He pretty much is sound asleep before the plane leaves the gate on a typical flight.

You can bet that I however, do not sleep on a flight. I’m like all hands on deck ready. I’ve pulled out my Tybo tapes and given myself a refresher on how to kick somebody’s ass if necessary.

As for my road warrior, I send him out confidently to go forage for money to pay our bills. Deals....make deals...close deals...stay safe while doing it.

A Sassy Celebration @ Bin 36 Chicago

2010-01-14T15:23:22Z

The holiday season was complicated this year. That's what happens when your family grows up and children take on their adult obligations in various places that different from home base. It took a lot of thinking outside the box to accommodate our desire to spend time together during the holiday season.

The Pastry Chef & The Prince

So our first stop this year was Chicago where our first three work and live. My daughter, who is an assistant pastry chef, made arrangements for us to have a cozy family dinner (if you can consider 8 boisterous people a cozy group) at the restaurant where she's employed.

Meat flight

I was a fan of the Bin 36 restaurant group before she was hired there last year. I had been there several times on visits to Chicago, mostly sampling their vast wine and cheese selections that sets them apart from other fantastic Chicago establishments. One of the charms about this place is the various sections where different styles of gathering and dining are available.

Cheese flight

The baby is now 12 and having 3 teens to deal with daily has just about done me in. On the other hand it's wonderful to be able to go out as a group with a reasonable expectation of having everyone be mature enough to really enjoy each other out in the public arena...without too much fuss.

Well, I guess there will always be a certain amount of fuss with our group. We are not a very sedate bunch so places like Bin 36 are a fantastic forum for us to enjoy sophisticated dining in a situation that's casual and not the least bit stuffy.

For us, it's a win-win.

We began our evening with Champagne and a flight of meats and cheeses. It took a bit of coaxing to get everyone to have a nibble of some of the unfamiliar tasty tidbits set before us. Despite that signal, deeply ingrained inside me from years of parenthood, to move the show along before any big mishap occurs we were all able to relax and savor the experience.

Make no mistake, after years of parental gorilla warfare, I was the one who had the most difficulty relaxing sufficiently to appreciate the moment. Bin's vast wine selection helped me achieve my goal.

After being plied with vino, meats, cheeses and the like we decided to share some of our entrees. The staff accommodated us bringing out our entrees split and beautifully presented.

Peppercorn Crusted Blue Marlin

NY Strip with Shiraz-Shallot Butter

Bin 36 Burger (Tavern Menu)

The minute the youngest left to visit the restroom we all had to fight over a bite of the baby's burger despite having sampled our way through delicacies and sophisticated entrees. We just love to provoke her scorn. We all agreed the burger was fantastic.

When it comes to saving room for the important stuff we know how to roll. Desserts are important stuff. Especially when they include all house made delights such as gelatto & ice cream sandwiches to the more complex Crispy Brioche with Pumpkin Zabaglione, Gingerbread with apple salad and concord grape grainita.It seems that my gang was so excited by the desserts presented that we suffered a photographic failure (to take the picture before you take a bite because you never know what your crazy mother will use for her blog).

This little cutie (Sweet Potato Donuts with Marshmellow Ice Cream) was the only thing left unscathed when I returned from my brief pastry kitchen tour. Bin 36's king of the pastry department, Chef Tom is a delight to visit with and possesses the unique ability to be personable yet a creative stickler for detail in the items that roll out of his kitchen.

We almost made it through the night without anyone getting out of hand. The only criticism came by a few of my spawn complaining "enough with the camera already." I do admit to blatantly following a particular server around trying to get a picture on the downlow to prove he is Justin Timberlake's doppelganger. I did reign myself in enough to stop before asking to have my picture made with him. You know you have reached an important goal when you have a lovely evening out with your family and the only person causing any kind of a fuss is you.

Much appreciated mama lovin'

Clueless in Washington

2010-01-08T21:40:57Z

When there's a major kerfuffle in my family the first thing I call for is intelligence collection. I need data to assess the situation. Someone put a dent in the car? Who got caught smoking? Who was reported for making out on the football field? All of these are situations that need some serious attention. Would I cancel vacation because of any these incidents which have in fact have occurred (and way worse)? NO.

Like our Commander In Chief I like to collect all of the data, see who is to blame, what the details are and then apply the consequences in a manner that's appropriate to the degree of infraction that has occurred. Blame isn't always a key factor. Sometimes just reviewing the occurrence with all of our family members and deciding on what a better course of action would have been is sufficient.

You know, like when your child comes home with bad grades on her report card. And the teacher confirms she's not turning her homework in on time?

So I understand when, a few weeks after the attempted terrorist attack, President Obama is trying to play bad cop (and doing a woefully inept job at it) while he reviews a huge amount of intelligence data. Those pesky Jihadists. Can't they see our national tone has changed and we are trying to be nice to them? Gee willackers Beaver, how should we proceed?

First of all let's send them a clear message.

I need my chillin' time, even the real news agencies are up in my business

After all it is Christmas. Good ol' George ruled many a crisis from his Waco, Texas ranch.The President can work anywhere. Sufficient staff was "in position" in Washington to expedite any crisis that needed handling. Not to worry. We are talking about a well oiled machine.

"The system worked seamlessly"

The system maybe didn't work as well as it should have

"I said there was NO SMOKING GUN !"

Meanwhile, the Hawaiian vacation continues for the Obamas.

Now I'm feelin' it, oh yeah

Michael Leitner, Director of National Security and Counter-terrorism heads to the slopes for some father-son bonding.

Hellooo? It was a failed terrorist attempt people.

In Monterey, CA contemplating a change in his not quite ready for prime time status , Leon Panneta, head of the CIA.

Finally,they may think I'm relevant after all

Back at the ranch, reality starts sinking in for John Brennan, Deputy National Security Advisor.

Craappp. I think I may be in charge of this hen house.

Earlier in the week the Prez was officially "back in the howse". The President admits someone screwed up and let the diaper bomber on the flight from Amsterdam to Detroit on Christmas day. This is a matter that I can certainly can relate well to. My husband, who is a road warrior, was out of town on 9/11 and now frequently flies the Amsterdam to Detroit route on Northwest Airlines.

Not to worry. Raymondo wasn't on the route that day. We were all safely ensconced in the Austin, Texas Marriott concierge lounge when I first heard about the terrorist attempt to blow up NW 253 from Amsterdam. Hearing the news I immediately did a mental inventory of the whole family (all present except the pastry chef daughter who was stuck in Chicago).

My anxiety grew that week as the day for our flight home approached after the incident. I was down right panicked about how I was going to make it through the 3 hour flight home if I couldn't get into my purse for lip balm or mints, if I couldn't use my computer or at least read my Charlaine Harris novel the last hour of the flight. I'm easy to torment, just bore me to death for 15 minutes and I'll be suffering.

We got to the Austin airport way early in case there were any complications, but it was business as usual. I had decided to check our bags so we wouldn't have any extra hassle in security (just didn't know it was going to cost me $20 a pop). I made sure my 14 year old had packed her way more than travel sized acne clarifying lotion in the bags to be checked. We played the pick out the future terrorist game while we waited.

On the plane, the only hitch came when they announced that we were to prepare for our landing. One geeky dude got up and headed back to the restroom. We all watched him cautiously out of the sides of our eyes and held our breath. We civilians have to have eyes in the back of our heads these days. After a few suspenseful seconds the largest stewardess used her mass and power to command the wayward passenger to "GET BACK IN YOUR SEAT, SIR!" He submissively did as told.

Other passengers in other airports haven't fared so well this week and many of our airport weaknesses have been on the telly 24/7 for the whole world to see. President Obama has chalked up a lot of face time since he returned to DC impersonating a tough guy, threatening to hold the people who dropped the ball accountable.

Only, so far that has not seemed to happen. All the bungling bureaucrats involved are still on board the last I heard. It seems in another political A.D.D. moment, the chance to act swiftly has come and gone. Our leader has finally admitted we are at war yet seems to support the decision to try our most recent diaper bomb terrorist in criminal court (ala Kahlid Shiek Mohammad) instead of as an enemy combatant.

You can bet the TSA will have more authority to torment elderly people in their hover chairs along with families traveling with children and strollers. The race is on for more high tech equipment to detect trouble at the airports. Next will be the challenge to find money to pay for this technology.

Lord knows what will be the next thing we need to be searched for. Thankfully young Islamic radical men don't wear exploding tampons or no menstruating female would be allowed to fly. Maybe we should surrender all of our personal clothing and underwear to the TSA and don hospital gowns wear while we fly.

But that would be too cold. How about safe flight sweats, all fleecy and cozy. That however would be a sizing nightmare. Plus there would be a lot of, but orange is not my color complaints. It must be bed time cause I am getting punchy now. Before I turn in I'll leave you with this eerily predictive memory from the Democratic primary commercials. I'm sure you remember this woman and the famous 3 a.m. emergency phone call ad questioning her opponents ability to handle a crisis when it really counts:

I told you so.