Four bitchin’ babes.

Some friends and I went to see the Four Bitchin Babes. The show was billed as “an Estrogen Fueled, Hilarious New Show That Celebrates The Best Of BABES, BOYS, and BOTOX.” It was very fun. First, we went to dinner at the Artful Gourmet. Good meal. Not perfect, but good. All the dishes were named after artists or periods in art history. Or paintings. The Leonardo looked good. So did the Raphael. (I did think about the Ninja Turtles a little…) And who would order the Botticelli? Seems too fattening to me. I found it fascinating that The Last Supper, the meal I ordered, was a paella with seafood and pork in it. Wasn’t the last supper a Jewish meal? I mean, weren’t all those guys Jews? Pork and shellfish were not on the menu. I’m pretty darn sure of it.

To give credit where it’s due… it was Melissa’s idea. That bitchin’ babe right up there? That’s Melissa.
And here is Melissa with the two other bitchin’ babes that went along. After reading all the promo pieces, I expected the audience to be filled with women 35 to 55 years old. So imagine my surprise when over half the members of the audience….
were member of the Red Hat Society. As Wikipedia reports: The Red Hat Society is not a sorority or a voluntary service club. There are no initiations, no fundraising projects, no rules and no bylaws. The Society fondly refers to itself as a “dis-organization” with the aim of social interaction, and to encourage fun, silliness, creativity, and friendship in middle age and beyond. The Society takes its name from the opening lines of the poem Warning by Jenny Joseph, which starts:

“When I am an old woman I shall wear purple
With a red hat that doesn’t go and doesn’t suit me.”

Here’s Kristin laughing about the Boob Fairy song. Or maybe it was the song about Hot Flashes. Anyway, she was laughing.
Here’s more Red Hats at intermission. Really, you shoulda seen them all. It was quite the sight! And they were having a blast….
But I fear that some wrong-doing must have gone on… you see the remains of a Red Hat lady. I caught this on on film. I keep thinking I need to report this to the authorities….

I am honored.

Today, I was a stop on the now famous Cancer Tour 2006. It was wonderful! We had lunch at Regi’s where the shrimp salad is “to die for” (I know no one else will “get it” or laugh except Jenne, but that’s okay.) I had a great time. And really do feel honored that she made the time…

Funny angle, bad photo. But nice sentiment.

Trumpet 101.

I’m so proud! Listen to Reed!

hot cross buns.wav

Hosted by eSnips

at perots door.wav

Hosted by eSnips

And thanks, Tim, for lending us the instrument! He’s really practicing!

Deja vu.

I’d been to the apartment before. Well not this particular apartment but many just like it. The apartment where the old couple moves when they can’t care for the lawn and the house anymore. Where they hang the art they collected for all those lovely years together and had spread out over several rooms that are now hung in one small living room. When placed so close together, each piece loses its glory. But together there is the effect of seeing a body of collected work that makes up a couple’s life and reflects their taste.

In this apartment, there was beautiful wood furniture circa 1955 or 1960 – with modern curved lines and a perfect, polished finish. They kind of furniture that was purchased after the kids grew up and moved out. It’s immaculate.

But the apartment is filled with people. People who came to say goodbye to the husband and give their sympathies and kind words to the wife. It smells like sadness and deli. There’s a spread of sweets and fruit for the well-wishers. The mourners are so tired. The same conversation happens over and over.

During the service, I stood by a breakfront filled with a lifetime of treasures. Lladro figures. A small dog collection with tiny glass, wood, stone breeds. There were two teacups and saucers. I wondered where they came from and what made them so special. A set of water glasses with each one a different color and wine glasses to match each one. There was a pair of star shaped crystal candlesticks. A gorgeous blue streaked crystal bowl. And the shelves were so coated with dust that they didn’t appear to be glass. I bet that the woman of the house wouldn’t let the cleaning lady move her treasures to dust. Each piece meant something special. I know it. I’m sure of it.

It’s impossible not to think about your own loved ones. To be grateful for the ones still here and miss the ones who are gone. It’s so odd to know that those before us have been here, too. Feeling just like this.

I need your advice.

I am not happy with Blogger lately. Slow. Clunky. Spotty service. So I set up a page on Vox. I love it. And I’m thinking about moving there for real. BUT. To comment, one needs to be registered with Vox. Is this too much a deterrent? There are other services, of course. It’s just that once you upload pix onto Vox, it’s hard to want anything else. It’s so nice………

Your thoughts? Move or don’t move? Move someplace else?

Thanks!

Yes, Virginia. There is a Santa Claus.

The cutest, sweetest little Tinkerbell – maybe 2 years old – just tapped me with her wand. She said it would make me happy. And it did.