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(my boys, this morning at breakfast)

(me, breakfast)

(Sammy and the giant pancake)

(heading home before the storm)



(glen hansard, philander...oh, you GUYS. two months until this album is out. can.not.wait.)

No Shame - Celebrity Edition

My latest (ok, not so much "latest" as "for a long time but I'm only recently admitting it") celebrity crush. Jack Davenport.

It all started years ago. Innocently. On PBS, actually. How bad can that be, right? PBS and a little thing called The Giggle Loop.

Isaac and I became completely hooked on Coupling (no link because, well, we realize that not everyone revels in the debauchery as we do). And given that we've seen the entire series several times, well...I won't get into it. Because it's a completely inappropriate show. And we'd hate for anyone we know to also get hooked on the inappropriateness (sorry, Lora!). Let's just say that my tiny crush for Jack started there. And it was the only place I could find him. Oh, sure. There were stints in Pirates and whatnot, but I was looking for constant viewing pleasure.

So. You can imagine my happiness when Smash was being touted as the 'great new show'. I didn't care about that. What I DID care about was that Jack Davenport was going to be in it. On my tv. Weekly. Yippee! But here's the thing. Smash is not the greatest show. It's not horrible by any stretch of the imagination, but it's not great. But it has Jack. So I watch.

I'm pretty sure I've done worse things for love. Or, you know, celebrity lust, but as I was sitting through this week's episode, I was hard pressed to come up with what. It's just not a great show. But for Jack? I watch. And don't completely hate it.


(fame, bowie)

Life...It's Not What I Thought It Was

My dad just emailed to check in on me. I feel that should go under the "you know when you blog too consistently and then stop" categories! I told him that I have run out of words. Reached the end. Or, at the very least, all the words were buried in allergy snot and not making themselves known. Either. Or, maybe, the truth is somewhere in-between.

My last post was of the very worst kind. Cryptic and gloomy. Nothing really said, unless you were "in the know" and then everything was said. I don't talk about current stuff I'm dealing with, in detail, hardly ever. I'm not that kind of girl. Well, unless you happen to be my husband. And then I talk your ear off until it's a bloody stump. Poor Isaac...I'm sure he WISHES I would work it all out here, instead of losing his ears! And I feel like I'm being weighted down by a lot right now and can't talk about a lot. So, um, sorry for the cryptic and gloomy. Life really is good. Well, except the being surrounded by crazy people part. But I'm sure I'll get over that. And start talking again soon.

This is the first post I've done since blogger has changed. And I can't figure out how to work it (it IS my first time and I CAN'T work it!), which firmly places me in the 90+ group and will be seen next yelling at the (non-existant) neighborhood kids to "turn that racket down already!". Sigh...I think my run away allergies are clouding my brain.

My new wedding band has turned my finger green. Thankfully, with each hand washing, it gets a little less, but still. Not a great side effect!

My girls trip to New York next month has been indefinitely postponed. I'm beyond sad, but knew it was coming. Isaac is secretly happy (not that he wouldn't have been happy FOR me, amiright?) because he was jealous I was going without him, but I'm sad. I was really looking forward to that break. I NEEDED that break. Just a weekend to be...me, again. And to see my friends that I don't get to see nearly often enough. And hear more stories like the one involving my prim and proper London-etiquette-pearls-museum-loving friend dating a cage fighter. I NEED more stories like that, thank you very much. My life is boring.

I'm trying not to let other people's choices affect me so much. Especially ones that really don't affect my life. Trying not to care. But, oh. I do care. Sometimes I feel I am one of very few sane people out there when I see family and friends make one idiot move after another. I could fill story after story about all of that, but I'm trying not to. Because it's not me. Though I do reserved the right to sometimes break out a rant for rants sake. Because I can only stuff so much inside before it bursts...

Now. If you'll pardon me, I have a box of tissue and a book calling me. Maybe this one. I'm feeling drawn to it, for some reason...