Bonaparte made dinner reservations at our favorite local restaurant for this coming Saturday evening. February 13th, the day before St. Valentine’s Day. The restaurant is “Spring Mill Café” and we love our dinners there.
The staff knows us, the food is always consistently great, and we always reserve the same table in a little alcove of the restaurant so that we are separated from other diners.
Spring Mill Cafe. It really IS our favorite restaurant. It’s like being in someone’s French kitchen!
And in this little spot, we study the dinner menu. The menu changes seasonally, but we know what to expect. We always order the Charcuterie Board as a starter and from there we ponder and make our selections and we are always happy and satisfied with our meal.
Since this weekend is Valentines weekend, Bonaparte had the smarts to ask me to call the restaurant and inquire if there would be a “special” menu for Valentine’s Day. There is and so I changed our reservation for the following Saturday evening.
While I realize that V-Day is a good business day for restaurants, I wish the regular menu offerings were available too. No big deal–we will just celebrate a week later!
And this is one of the reasons I am not a fan of Valentine’s Day. I don’t want to be told what I have to eat because it is a “special” day.
Yes. I am well-aware of this special day and as soon as it’s over the St. Patrick’s decorations will be shoved in my face!
Valentine’s Day is the day set aside for love and lovers. Let me tell you something about the word “lover”
I have never, and I mean never referred to any ex-boyfriend, ex-husband, or Bonaparte as my “lover”. And if any ex-boyfriend, or my ex-husband, or Bonaparte ever used “lover” to describe my part in the relationship, it would be a deal breaker. I would walk away. I cannot stomach that word. Eww. It is so fuc (I almost forgot. I am giving up cursing for Lent. It’s the least I could do since Bonaparte gets upset with my filthy gutter-mouth. Besides, not cursing is a special Valentine’s Day gift for him!), it is so darn pretentious and annoying!
If you’ve ever seen this skit on SNL with Rachel Dratch and Will Ferrell, you’ll know what I”m talking ’bout!
Valentine’s Day is so forced and contrived. I mean, seriously. I have visions of greasy abusive men stopping off at the last minute at a gas station to buy their better half a cheap stuffed teddy bear and candy in a heart-shaped box. And when they come home they just kind of toss the gifts to their woman. I can see it now:
Greasy Guy (tossing teddy bear and candy to his woman): “Hey. Happy Valentine’s Day” “What’s for dinner?”
Greasy Guy’s girlfriend: “Aww. Honey. I “wuv” youuuu..” “I made your favorite Hamburger Helper for dinner”
Greasy Guy: “Hamburger Helper!” “Man, I shoulda got you flowers too!” “I “wuv” you too”!
…this is the kind of Valentine’s you give to your children. If any grown man gave me something like this and told me he “wuved” me he’d be next to the one who referred to me as his “lover”.
Valentine’s Day pushes the limit of tasteful attire.
I created this outfit on Polyvore. I would wear the Hermes scarf and the trench coat. I would wear the matching undies only…..
Let’s just say I would wear a get-up like the one above to my dermatologist’s office. He would be so grossed out by my ripples and wrinkles sticking out of both bra and panty that he would have to focus extra-hard on my skin check.
In a plane. Yes. I always wear matching underwear on flights. Just in case the worst happens and my body gets torn in half. The rescue workers can match the top with the bottom—and a bright, sexy ensemble of unmentionables would have me matched up in no time!
I would rather wear Wonderwoman panties because I would rather be empowered than sexy!
Valentine’s Day is an excuse to eat bad candy. I know that chocolate is one of the greatest gastronomical delights known to woman. I have received chocolates in heart shaped boxes. Most of the chocolates were thrown in the trash. Why? Because I’m that girl/lady/woman/old hag who bites into a chocolate and if the filling is fruity fake nougat or the inside is oozing with a flavor I can’t quite describe, I bite and spit. I am a chocolate purist. Chocolate with nuts or toffee—yes. Filled chocolate-no.
Forest Gump was wrong. Life is NOT like a box of chocolates . If it were, we would be spitting things out of our mouths all day.
Valentine’s Day is also another way that card companies sidle into your private life with any excuse for a card. Even at the expense of reminding someone that they are alone on this day of blissful romance and love. Hey. Let’s make all single people and those who’ve suffered a break up all feel badly on this day.
I swear to God, I almost shit a brick fell over when I saw THIS in the Valentine’s Day card section. WTF??? To make matters worse, there was a wide selection!
Don’t get me wrong. It isn’t that I don’t love. My kids, Bonaparte and Chippy are the center of my world.
It’s just that I’m not one of those “Hello Kitty”, “Disney Princess”, cutesy romantics. Although I will admit that I oftentimes comment on Facebook with little heart emoji’s if I like something a lot. And I always sign of with “XOXOXOXO”.
Yeah Kitty, I “woof” you–you too little princess!
My love is more pragmatic.
Love is a verb.
Love hurts.
Love is a roller coaster.
Lust is Michel Polnareff begging to me to love him.
Love is an emotion. It is that feeling you get inside you that shakes you up when you see that special someone doing something nice for you.
Bonaparte telling me to get back in the house and NOT help to shovel snow is an act of pure love!
Love is the overwhelming feeling you get when you are with your children and you realize that they are the most wonderful people in the world.
My three little babies. I love them more and more each day!
Love is wanting to help those you care about and not asking for anything in return.
Love is something that we all need at some point during our lifetimes.
Love actually is saying that you are sorry. Especially when you hurt those you do love.
Love makes the world go ’round.
Happy love to you every day. Not just on St. Valentine’s Day!
Kisses to you from me. For every day!!! XOXOXO
So yeah, when I say “Down with love” I mean it in the down-in-the-forced-and-contrived sense of love—because real love is beautiful!
I’m so proud of how my daughter has grown into a responsible adult.
When we arrived at her apartment, dinner that she prepared– a soup from her home made bone broth, sausage and kale was ready to be served. She even had the makings for Kir Royals! It was the perfect dinner after being in transit for most of this stormy day. Oona also knows how weird I am at holiday time and that we all wear matching PJ bottoms and t-shirts from Old Navy. She surprised me with matching “J’Adore” t-shirts and pink PJ bottoms from Old Navy! Life is blissful in “Mommy and Me” matching pj’s—even when the Mommy is 60 and the Me is 26!
Is this too cute? I love that Oona knows how to please with thoughtful little touches such as matching pj’s!
The next day, Thursday, Oona decided to take me into “The Square” in downtown Fayetteville. The square is a lovely area near the University of Arkansas. Cute shops and restaurants abound. And on close inspection, studying the people around me, I thought I was in Brooklyn because of the many hipster looks surrounding us. I was thrilled because of the stereotype that I envisioned….
Ok. This is bad. And don’t judge me. But, I had this stereotype that the second I landed in Arkansas, I would be greeted by Gothardesque Duggar type women in ill-fitting long denim skirts and fugly polo shirts who would be wearing Birkenstocks with socks and pelting me with bibles. They would also be singing “Jesus Loves the Little Children.” My plan of action would be to take rosary beads from my purse and hold the beads up to them—the way someone would hold garlic or a cross to a vampire! Much to my extreme joy, this did not happen. In fact, the people I met were not like that at all.
Ain’t gonna lie. I envisioned being pelted with Bibles by these fashion icons!
Our first stop was an adorable little tea shop that looked as though it belonged in Williamsburg, Brooklyn. Savoy Tea Company. The shop oozed of charm. The staff incredibly friendly and upbeat. We sat down to Chai Lattes and caught up on conversation.
Here’s the Savoy info–just in case you are in the neighborhood!
The interior is so darn adorable. It was the perfect setting for Oona and I to enjoy…
Our Chai Lattes. Even better because of the way they were served!
This business card is so clever–a place on the back for notes!
Bonaparte would have felt very much at home here. The shop was chock-full of French imports for the home. The owner’s husband, Storm (hmmm..why can’t I get away from Storms of any kind?), was a riot! He told me that he and his wife travel to France to flea markets and such to acquire much of what is sold in the shop. I really was enlightened by the charm and friendliness of Storm and my stereotype of Arkansansians? Arkansanans?. Ugh. My stereotype of people from Arkansas was diminishing!
Look what we spotted! Bonaparte’s last name!!!
We continued our wandering and decided to see a movie. We both wanted to see “Brooklyn” because of our Irish roots and the fact my grandparents settled in Brooklyn after emigrating from Ireland made the movie more intriguing. BTW, the movie was even better than we thought it would be. The price of admission was even better. FIVE BUCKS! Let me tell you, there are NO five dollar movie in the suburbs of Philadelphia that I am aware of!
Who knew I would have to go to Arkansas to see Brooklyn? At five bucks it was a bargain!
We both decided that it was better to eat lunch out and have dinner in. This way the both of us could just be comfy, relaxed, have some wine, and binge-watch Chip and Joanna play around with shiplap!
Binge watching these two is the perfect mother/daughter night in! Chip, Joanna, Shiplap and wine!
Friday was great! We had an ambitious agenda in Bentonville. But the best part of the day for me was a phone call Oona received from her boss as we began our adventures. She received a promotion. I won’t go into details but I will tell you this; I cried. I was so overwhelmed and proud and filled with happiness for her that I started sobbing. I’m getting all misty-eyed as I write this too. I couldn’t be happier.
On our way to Bentonville, smiling with the great news of Oona’s promotion!
On to Bentonville.
my artsy shot–well, my ATTEMPT at artsy photography. I’m no J.H. Lartigue!
Oona told me about a great little food truck that was known for great crepes. The owner is a Frenchman and the weather was sunny and warm. OK—it wasn’t exactly spring weather but it was warm enough to eat outside. We had lunch at Crepes Paulette.
Might I suggest if you are ever in Bentonville to enjoy an authentic French meal of delicious crepes and some conversation with Frédéric, the owner!
Because I’m a pretentious asshole at times, I ordered my crepe in French. I had “La Jardin” filled with baby spinach, cheese (Ok—so I cheated on my Paleo), pesto and egg. I guess my accent was halfway decent because Frédéric Henry, the owner (along with his wife, Paula) started speaking in French to me. I explained “Je parle un peu français”. Oona rolled her eyes and ordered her crepe in English!
Monsieur Henry in front of his restaurant on wheels. Damn, if I lived in Bentonville, I would have a hard time sticking to my Lenten sacrificing of no in-between meals. I would be here for crepes every day–especially the salted caramel crepes!
Anyway, Frédéric was great. He’s from Brest, France—in Brittany. That area of France I’ve been demanding for years and years that Bonaparte take me to. Frédéric is jolly and animated and a wonderful host to those who dine at his truck. We got to talking and he asked me about my visits to France and asked Bonaparte’s name. He told me that Bonaparte’s surname was popular in the South. Then he mentioned there was a famous French photographer with Bonaparte’s last name. He was pleasantly surprised when I said that the photographer was Bonaparte’s grandfather. Bonaparte was thrilled when I mentioned that to him!
The crepes were amazing. In fact, they were better than the crepes I’ve had in a certain creperie on Rue Saint-André des Arts in Paris! For dessert I had the salted caramel crepe. I swear if I wouldn’t have embarrassed Oona, I could have licked the table that the filling spilled onto.
Our next stop was the Walmart museum. A bit kitchy—but kitchiness is what makes travel so much fun. The museum was a testament to the early days of Sam Walton’s business endeavors and it was actually quite interesting.
In front of “Walton’s 5 & 10 Cent Store” The Walmart Museum. Hey, how did this photo become backwards?
Yes. I was here!
It’s so charming….
..and kitchy! Do you remember this packaging? I do–that’s ’cause I’m old!
…and I also remember these books! I learned to read with Dick and Jane AND I almost purchased The Borrowers. It was one of my favorite books when I was a young girl!
Another interesting fact is that the Walmart stores in the Northwest of Arkansas are immaculate. They are beautiful. They are well-organized. They are well-stocked. AND—the staff is so pleasant and accommodating. Normal people shop there. I’m not being snotty either. The two Walmart stores in my area are filthy—but I’m getting off topic.
Walmart’s grocery department where I live looks nothing like THIS!!
After leaving the Walmart museum we headed off to the one place I was incredibly excited to see. Oona has told me about this place and how wonderful and beautiful it is. We went to the Crystal Bridges Museum. This museum was founded by Alice Walton and I have to say—it is magnificent. There is no charge to enter. Believe me, over the years I’ve spent a small fortune at various art museums throughout the USA and France and I am in a state of wondrous shock that this museum has no general admission fee!
The setting is so soothing. Built above two ponds and the grounds are so serene. The museum itself blends in with the natural background. The staff, again, is so incredibly friendly. We were greeted by a staff member who spoke to me for quite a while about the greatness of Northwest Arkansas. When I told her that I had this vision of everyone being like the Duggar family she laughed and explained that the Duggars are not liked in the NW of Arkansas. They are in the minority and people just wish they would leave. I am diggin’ NW Arkansas so much!!!!
Set over two ponds, the museum is…
..so beautiful and the grounds are..
..so serene. I want to come back in the late spring when the trees and flowers are in bloom!
The museum was just incredible. A testimony to American artists. I shrieked with delight when I saw a painting by my favorite American artist, Childe Hassam, hanging on the wall. I get really excited whenever I see one of his paintings and this made me appreciate Crystal Bridges even more. Oona and I loved the paintings by Mary Cassatt as well. Honestly, if you ever get the chance to visit Bentonville, you have to visit this museum.
Childe Hassam’s “Paris at Twilight” is at the museum and it is just spectacular!
When we saw Arthur Fitzwilliam Tait’s painting “The Life of a Hunter–A Tight Fix” we thought of “The Revenant”! Leo–is that you?
The many sculptures on display at Crystal Bridges were stunning. This really shows the despair of the Great Depression.
Luckily the weather was on our side and the warmth of the air lent itself for more walking. We did a bit more window shopping and stopped at another one of Savoy Tea’s locations. This time we enjoyed our Chai Lattes in the open air.
Another quiet dinner at home and quality mother/daughter time for the rest of the evening.
Dressed down in our matching lounging attire–it was another evening of togetherness!
Saturday brought another busy day. It also brought about another great weather day! We started out with brunch at The Farmer’s Table Cafe, a local farm-to-table restaurant. We enjoyed a healthy meal of free-range eggs over a bed of locally grown veg, gluten-free buckwheat bread and strong coffee. It was wonderful to be able to enjoy another meal alfresco with the air comfortable as it got warmer!
The Farmer’s Table–unpretentious and unassuming with fantastic food!
This is my kinda breakfast!
With stomachs satisfied we headed off to the Clinton House Museum, Bill and Hillary Clinton’s first home. I really enjoyed this–and if there are any people who doubt the validity of the Clinton’s humble beginnings, I suggest you stop by here. It was wonderful to be able to get some insight on the start of this political coupling and how they managed to have the State of Arkansas embrace both of them. I loved seeing where our next presidential hopeful used to live!
This historical home is beautiful on the outside and charming within…
The outside plaque shows a young and idealistic Bill and Hillary!
We did some more antiquing and shopping around then did what any mother and daughter spending time need to do.
Vintage Cargo was another shop with great home goods. I LOVE the fact that so many people in the Fayetteville and Bentonville areas shop local and shop small stores rather than at malls. It supports small business!
I was tempted to sit on this porch all day and just gab to the owners!
We saw a “Chick flick”. We saw “The Choice”. True to form it was the typical boy and girl meet and hates each other. Both have SO’s. Both fall in love. Both lose SO’s. Both argue. Both fall in love and get married. Uh Oh. Something very, very, very bad happens. Tears. Sadness. Anger. Wait! Just in the nick of time, something very, very, very great happens…….
Sappy as a forest full of maple trees, but it was deliciously chick flicky! And a great way to wind of a mother/daughter weekend!
We loved it! It’s so hard for me to see chick flicks because Bonaparte absolutely hates them. I’m telling you, we saw the trailer for “Me Before You” and I cried. I will need to see that movie not with Bonaparte, but with a box of tissues! Oona is my favorite chick flick partner. I hope she is visiting when this movie is released! Our final dinner was, again, spent at Oona’s apartment. I made steaks and our favorite vegetable—Brussels Sprouts. And we were naughty as we enjoyed a dessert of Ben & Jerry’s “Half Baked” ice cream.
Besides being naughty, we got silly too!
My visit to see Oona was a great Christmas gift from all three kids. You don’t realize just how much you appreciate and love your daughter or any of your kids for that matter, until they move away from you. I have wonderful memories of time spent with my baby!
Northwest Arkansas has a new fan!!
Oh..and the flights home—the weather was fine and sunny. No delays. My luggage stayed with me. And the rides weren’t bumpy! I was greeted by a happy Bonaparte and an even happier Chippy. Apparently Chippy sat in front of the door every night that I was gone and whined! He’s sitting on the floor next to me as I write this!
I’m a happy mom after spending time with my daughter!
Here’s a song that Oona and I love. John Mayer’s “Daughters”. I think it’s appropriate!
Are you dying to find out how my trip to Arkansas went? Well, it was great! But, as usual, I’ve got so much to tell you. Like Julie Andrews sings, “Let’s Start at the Very Beginning”…. Please. Go put the kettle or coffee maker on, grab a cup of warmth, snuggle up and come along with me…
I’m no mountain girl nor am I a singer, but let’s start at the beginning because I have a “Do Re Mi” of a story to tell youse!
After transferring everything from my Longchamp weekender into the carry on suitcase that Bonaparte insisted on buying for me, I started having concerns about it being over packed. I did NOT want my suitcase taken away from me because we all know how territorial I am with my luggage! We will visit this later.
I AM like a territorial pitbull when it comes to my luggage!
True to my personal travel form, the weather sucked as I left for Philadelphia Int’l. The local meteorologists predicted rain, but it wasn’t to start until noon. My flight was at 11:35 AM to Charlotte and from Charlotte, I had a layover until I caught another flight to Arkansas. The meteorologists lied. They are weather challenged because it was raining when I woke up at 6:00AM—OK? It was raining pouring as Bonaparte drove me to the airport and he was thoroughly fascinated by the occurrence of bad weather whenever I travel. Fascinated!
I didn’t tell you that I have this “thing” about arriving at the airport early. It’s an idiosyncrasy of mine. I need time to relax before a flight. A lot of time. I’m always stressed out and anxious and I always expect the worst possible scenarios. We arrived at the airport at 8:30 AM—giving me three hours of angst-ridden bliss before take-off.
Natalie Dee knows me too well. I AM the epitome of her Anxiety Girl!
Bonaparte dropped me off, and wished me a great time as Chippy barked from the back seat of the car. With printed boarding pass in hand, and my little “Silly-Putty” colored carry on suitcase, I made my way up the escalator to the TSA. The boarding pass that I printed on our computer did not “scan” properly. I had to make my way back down the escalator to the check-in kiosk to print additional boarding passes. Luckily I didn’t have to wait.
I waited for hours on end for the “notification” from American Airlines that I could print my boarding pass. Unfortunately, my computer thought otherwise. This was an unscannable pass!
I don’t understand why the kiosk has to ask whether or not I want to upgrade, change my seat or purchase food. All I freakin’ want to do is print my damn boarding pass. So after about five minutes of questioning from a machine, not only did I receive my boarding passes, but I also received two additional boarding passes. One to send me to Arizona and one to send me out to LA.
I guess the kiosk was just lonely and was glad I was there so it could ask me a million questions. I’m so anti-machineable.
I’ll tell you this much—American Airlines hires staff with exceptional hearing. After my initial “What the fuck is this??” spoken at a rather loud caliber, an agent rushed over to see what the issue was. I explained that her airline company was graciously gifting me with two additional boarding passes. She thanked me profusely as she grabbed the wrong boarding passes from my hands I kindly handed the incorrect passes over to her and I said “Aren’t you glad I have a loud mouth?” She did not answer me.
Back up to TSA and this time I was allowed to cut the line to the front! I love that because it pisses other people standing in line off so much! Its winter and this process took forever. Coat. Blazer. Scarf. Boots. Purse. Suitcase. Phone. Watch. I explained that if my cheap J. Crew jewelry beeped, one of the TSA people would have to undo the clasp because my fake nails would make it impossible for me to do so. Nothing beeped. I’m sure the beeper was purposely turned off after I made that comment .
Anyway, as I walked toward the gate I was getting a bit hungry. I looked around me at the choices and none of the food was Paleo-friendly. I had to opt for the next best thing. I spotted a little stand and in that stand was a variety of dried fruits and nuts. Dried fruit has a ton of added sugar. Nuts have a ton of fat—but the fat is really healthy. I felt like a complete moron as I “shelled” over ten bucks for a 4 ounce bag of candied pecans. Yeah. Not only a ton of fat, but also added sugar. Not to mention that the small bag held 4 one-ounce servings at 175 calories per. This is not helping me on my weight loss journey.
Note to self: Form hereonin, make little snack packs of nuts to bring to the airport.
Did you know that Philadelphia International has a minimal amount of chargers for your phone? I’m OCD about my phone’s battery life. Even if I don’t use the phone. I need the comfort of knowing that I’m next to an outlet. Besides, I’m addicted to Candy Crush. I ended up writing as I waited for boarding. I’m working on a book—another one of my delusions.
I wanted to write on the plane too–but the ride was so bumpy that it was impossible!
The rain was still coming down at a steady stream, but the stream was now becoming aggressive.
It would help if Philadelphia Int’l. hired an electrician to install outlets to plug your phone or tablet into. I’m very self-important and need to be able to plug my phone in–what if that ONE friend I have tries to call me?
I prayed that the plane would be on time. And it was! Poor Hipster Jesus. I need to start thanking him for constantly bugging him with prayers for shit that I want.
Now I’m not fond of flying. I’m not super-anxious about it either because I realize that flying is the fastest way to travel and my impatience trumps my anxiety. But still—my nerves do get a bit flustered as the aircraft makes the ascent. The pilot announced that it may be a bit of a bumpy ride. This ride was so bumpy that my lady parts spoke to me. What they said wasn’t exactly printable either.
That’s right. The ride was SO bumpy that I had what SHE had!
The four serving bag of nuts that I finished off before boarding the plane almost came up. I was almost looking forward to it because I figured I could get two meals out of that measly bag therefore justifying the money spent! Also—due to the turbulence, no beverages were distributed during this flight.
I will take a moment to say, though, that American Airlines does get kudos from me for their stance on hiring older people. Many of the attendants were older and quite a number were in the “over-50” category. Ageism is not a part of this airlines company. I thank American for that. I guess the rest of the country wants to keep old people out of the earthly workforce and American Airlines is complying by keeping my peer group off the earth and into the sky!
Needless to say, we landed in Charlotte on time. After landing, let’s say it could have been worse.
As beautiful and homey as Charlotte airport is, with the over sized rocking chairs to make one feel you are on granny’s front porch, the trek to my next flight—the one to Bentonville, seemed to take forever.
This was a first for me–to see rocking chairs at an airport. I would rather see outlets to plug my phone into!
First of all, after not having anything to drink on the plane, and the effect of those expensive nuts I ate, my mouth was parched. But it was that kind of parched that makes you feel slightly weak and woozy as you are walking. And walking. And walking through a large maze that literally leads from one end of the massive airport to the opposite end. I felt like I was going to get sick. But the thought of spending five bucks for a bottle of water made me feel worse. I went to the ladies room, scooped up water from the wash basin and drank it. Hey. Don’t Judge!
I glanced at the “departures” screen and noticed many “cancelled” flights. The weather really was horrific and stormy. My flight to Bentonville was nowhere on the screen. I was becoming slightly panicky.
One of the reasons I continue to despise not flying direct, but sometimes you just cannot help it!
I walked up to one of the nearest gates and asked the customer rep if she could help me in finding my flight’s gate. Another long walk of shameless exercise. I sat down next to an outlet, plugged my phone in and went to town playing Candy Crush.
More and more flights were cancelled. As I looked out the window onto the tarmac, I could see more than puddles. I could have gone swimming. My flight was going to be delayed by an hour. . Trust me; I didn’t give two shits that it was delayed because I was simply thrilled it wasn’t cancelled. An hour’s delay was almost like an early flight—the weather was that bad. I had visions of Oona being so distraught when she found out about the delay. I texted her. Her reaction was simple “Fine. I’ll be at Happy Hour with my co-workers a bit longer then”.
This–and puddles so deep and wide you could have gone swimming was what the outside of the airport looked like!
As we boarded the plane, my angst started to surface. As I entered, the flight attendant told me I needed to take my suitcase to the “valet” to have it checked in. He saw the fright in my face and he took care of this for me. I couldn’t let go of my suitcase and we had a little bit of a wrist wrestle.
I lost.
If you are a friend of mine and read this blog you are well-aware of my attachment to my luggage. The thought of this suitcase being taken away from me had naughty thoughts about Bonaparte’s clever idea to purchase this little piece of luggage swimming around in my gutter-language brain. I must have come off as the biggest and most pompous bitch as I asked “You mean I have to pick my little suitcase up at baggage claim?”
Obviously this man didn’t know how truly kind and sweet and genuine and saintly I really am—and I felt awful about saying that to him!
But those thoughts were erased as I saw the size—or rather, sizeless of this aircraft! My hips were wider than the width of the aisle. I sat down and as we took off, I said THREE “Acts of Contrition” and a Rosary. This flight was even more bumpy than the first one. I swear to you for a moment there my naturally crossed eyes straightened out!
I really could feel those expensive nuts making their way back up –especially when I saw the inside of this plane! And I was going to be flying in THIS in bad weather!
But in the end—it all worked out fine. We landed safely. I got my little suitcase from baggage claim in a matter of minutes and Oona and I drove out into the barren landscape of the evening to her apartment and started a great few days.
I’ll tell ya’alls—or is it y’alls—or is it yawls- or y’all alls? I definitely know that in Arkansas it isn’t “youse guys” and I want to blend!
I would have to change “youse” to “y’alls”. I think!
Until tomorrow—here’s Steve Miller with one of my favorite travel tunes!
Tomorrow is the big day! I’ll be enjoying the Christmas gift that the kids gave me. A trip to Fayetteville, Arkansas to see Oona! Last July, we tearfully bid each other farewell at LaGuardia—a result of her job transfer. Oona’s farewell.
We’ve only seen each other twice since then and it sucks to have your only daughter so far away. But come tomorrow, we’ll argue and make up—many times. She’ll take me to Chrystal Bridges Art Museum. We’ll go out to dinner. We will work out together. I’ll get very sore, but I won’t care.
We will have fun cooking together and doing all things girly. Instead of me, as mother, guiding her. It’ll be my daughter guiding me. That’s kinda cool. And I’m so happy that we have a great relationship. It’s the kind I always wanted to have with my own mother but was never able to achieve!
It’ll be fun to just hang out together! We will even break Paleo to go to Starbucks!
Anyway, I packed and repacked and packed and repacked.
Everything has been taken out of the Longchamp bag…
I took everything out of the Longchamp weekender that I originally planned on taking and transferred the contents into the “suitcase” that Bonaparte bought for me. Actually, that isn’t bad because it has wheels. That’ll be more convenient for me to run to my connecting flight because I know my first flight will be delayed and I’ll make my connection by seconds!
…and packed into this suitcase. I also took out the heavy sweaters. The weather is supposed to be a bit warmer in Arkansas.
My acrylic nails have been well-manicured with a fill-in and polish.
My fake nails are looking very “Barbra Striesand Hands”. Soon it’ll be time for the fake tan!
The mess that Chippy created when went to get my nails done is cleaned up. He is so spoiled that he acts out when I leave without him.
I’ve never had a dog that was so fascinated by garbage as Chippy is…
..but that face. I can’t stay mad at him!
My hair, which I colored on Sunday, is back in a roller set so my hair will be nice and big when I travel!
My hair earlier this morning–I did a roller set on Sunday and it stayed nice and wavy. To reinforce those waves, I’ll keep the rollers in until I go to sleep. Then I’ll put my hair up in a high pony tail and the waves will remain. Beauty is painful. I know this. My head hurts from the bobby pins.
My J. Crew Style Guide came in the mail this week and I just got around to looking at it.
I’ve been with J. Crew since 1983, the year the catalog line of clothing came to be. I was a regular customer at their flagship store at the South Street Seaport! And I’ve always been a fan—I’ll admit, there were “meh” clothing years and downright “fugly” years where the offerings were horrendous. Regardless, I could still find something that was perfect for me. The clothing that J. Crew has continued to offer are classic with a bit of an edge. A large part of my wardrobe IS from J. Crew–and all at sale pricing!
But lately, I’ve been disillusioned with both the quality of the clothing and the way Jenna “I’m-too-cool-to-dress-conventionally” Lyons seems to be both branding and styling the clothing company that I’ve been loyal to for many years. Jenna Lyons in what could possibly be the most horrific “PANT” of all time. The shirt looks sloppy!
While I admit that this jumpsuit is incredibly impractical–what if you have your period and have to keep rushing to the ladies room to change your tampon, I like the way she looks here. But WTF is it with the pigeon-toed pose? Knock it off. You are an adult! You are not a three year old. It isn’t cute. It’s dopey!
Oh. And might I add that the price point of this once-affordable CHAIN store’s clothing has become almost unreachable to the average person. However, their sales are great—and thusly, I wait until whatever I’m coveting is marked down.
So grab a cup of cawfee, or tea or chai, grab you chair and sit next to me while we take a look at the “J. Crew February Style Guide” together!
I’m channeling my J. Crewness –do you like my Style Guide cover look?
J. Crew is introducing sunglasses in this guide and the glasses have real people names like Jill, Irving, Betty, Ryan, Sam and Jack. Isn’t that funny? Sunglasses have human names and these days humans give their children non-human names like Paris, Dakota, Savannah and Ikea! I’ve heard through the blogosphere that one blogger named her child “Capri”. I’m wondering if she’s a travel writer and named her child after the place. Maybe she’s a fashion blogger and named her child after the pants. Maybe she’s both and killed two birds with one stone!
Can you imagine losing your J. Crew sunglasses and shouting “Where the hell did my damned Sam go?” Some nosey do-gooder will think you are speaking ill of your child and you will be arrested for child abuse when in fact, it’s just a pair of sun glasses!
Look at the prices! I’ve gotten similar sunglasses at TJ Maxx and Nordstrom Rack and spent between $9.99 and $19.99 (for the readers). My glasses all become ruined when I sit on them. Trust me; I know these over-priced sunnies from J. Crew would be broken within two weeks if any of them were in my possession. My fat ass would destroy these in a matter of days!
I paid $19.99 for these “reader” sunglasses at Nordstrom Rack. They are from Kate Spade. I think I’ll name them “Katie”!
This is so cool. All the pages have three digits. Like 009, 021 and 100. If anyone asks my age I’m going to say I’m “zero-six-zero”! My god—the numbers are so stylish!
I’m being catty. Let’s talk outfits. I want to show you just what real style is–according to J. Crew:
Page 009 shows a beautiful model. She’s looking down at the ground with a big smile. I think she saw a ladybug. Anyway, she’s wearing the J. Crew Regent blazer, which I happen to have because Jenna and Millard decided to discontinue my beloved Schoolboy blazer. Notice the way the blazer’s sleeves are pushed up to the elbows. WTF?? Who in their right mind would do that? I can’t stand to have over one inch of shirt sticking out from blazer sleeves but from elbow to wrist? That isn’t style, It’s ridiculous. Besides, the sleeves on the Regent blazer are cut so slim that only a very fitted or light weight shirt can be worn underneath!
Page 009. Beautiful, long-legged slim model on left. She’s looking down at a ladybug. I’m in the center in my Regent blazer and looking at a carpet mite! Look how tight the sleeves on MY Regent blazer are. The fabric on my Uniqlo stripped shirt is thick and my arms hurt. The circulation is being cut off. In the photo on the right, I’m looking down at Chippy. He’s telling me that I look like a moron with the sleeves of my J. Crew Schoolboy blazer pushed up to my elbows. Hey–it’s more comfortable than the Regent blazer!
Pages 010 and 011. That pose is sickening. She looks like she sharted and needs to lower her coat to hide her little mistake. Oops! The necklace–$165.00. Let me tell you, J. Crew’s costume jewelry is WAY overpriced. The gold plate fades. Check out my arm party from J. Crew. There is no reason J. Crew should be charging anywhere near the prices they do for cheap arm and neck baubles!
Our styled model on the left is saying “Oops! I should have never eaten that hot chili last night! Glad my red coat will hide everything till I get home!” The shirt on the right is much nicer–but the price of the cheap necklace is ridiculous!
See how faded the plating is? I’m glad I got it on final sale!
Page 021. The Teddie pant. I’m sorry but the bottom of those pants that pant looks awkward! Don’t even get me started on the sloppiness of the shirt. One cuff rolled, the other unrolled, the quarter tuck out of the pants. What kind of style is this anyway? I call this the “OMG-I-Just-Had-Office-Sex-With-That-Cute-Guy-On-The-Third-Floor” look. This getup would look horrendous on a normal sized body.
That shirt is damn near killing me. And why isn’t this model wearing a belt? Why have belt loops if a belt won’t be worn?
Page 025. This beautiful, incredibly thin and tall model is sitting cross-legged on the floor. She’s wearing a beautiful Chanel-inspired tweed jacket. The price is $198.00. She is also wearing one of the many J. Crew oxford shirts under the jacket, and over the shirt it looks like a Tippi sweater.
I tried to duplicate this fabulous style. I’m wearing my white Uniqlo jeans that I got on sale for $29.00 as opposed to the $89.50 chinos from Crew. My jacket is a Halogen cast-off that I purchased at Nordstrom Rack for $22.00. Underneath the jacket is a J. Crew oxford shirt I got online for somewhere around $25. Over that is a bright pink J. Crew factory cashmere cardigan that I purposely wore backwards. It was a steal on the final clearance rack for $9.99. It remains one of my favorites. OK, so it doesn’t look that bad—but. I could not move my upper body in all those layers. The jacket was so tight and I felt like a stuffed sausage and was completely claustrophic. This look is not for the average-sized or above-average-sized woman. It looks bulky.
My Page 025 look! I think the total price for the entire outfit was less than the J. Crew jacket! All that layering is so cumbersome. What people fail to realize is that as great as the looks are on the models, they may not work on the averaged-sized woman. Don’t forget, the camera ADDS pounds and these models STILL look bone thin!
Page 026. Don’t get me started on this photo shopped mess of a picture. In the first place it is impossible to get your lip in that convoluted “bite” pose. Last time my mouth looked like that I was in the ER at Princeton Medical Center getting my bottom lip sewn back to my face. I had a serious bathtub accident while cleaning. Is she thinking about her style. Or is she thinking about how it is that the party around her neck cost $128.00? I have a gripe with the pricing of the costume jewelry that J. Crew sells but I covered that on Page 011.
Nobody. Not even a contortionist can bite their bottom lip and look like this. ……
..and I’m proof! I was happy to learn that the shirt I’m wearing FINALLY fit me. Paleo is my friend!
Moving on.
Page 030. The shoes. They are gorgeous. J. Crew also has the most uncomfortable heels of all time. All. Time.
Page 035. This look is just completely wrong on so many levels. In the first place, a tee that baggy doesn’t look flattering on any woman. What is so wrong about wearing a nice fitted tee shirt? And the pocket? Any woman with a cup larger than an “A” will constantly be fussing around with the odd placement of the pocket. It’s sloppy and that half tuck is driving me nuts. And what is the saving grace of that “pant” with the tie-front? It’s a disaster waiting to happen. If the fabric on the tie front gets caught on a chair after a lunch or dinner at a restaurant, there is going to be a train wreck of a mess. What if you are in a rush and exiting a subway car and that dopey tie gets caught in the closing door? I don’t even want a visual.
Ugh. The fucking half-tucked, half out shirt–and that tie. I guess I just have zero zero style!
Page 039. Who is this Gayle? She says that this wide legged pant can be just as flattering as skinny jeans? I want whatever meds she is taking. Does Gayle not realize that some women have really, really thick ankles? Some women have cankles. I’m no stylist, but I can tell you that this pant looks only half-way decent on the model who is wearing them. And that is a stretch!
Sorry Gayle, but I think you are wrong! I don’t think anyone with thick ankles wants to show them off!
Page 041. I Love this outfit. I truly love this outfit. The Teddie sailor pant may be a bit flared at the bottom but I have a soft spot for sailor pants. I have a soft spot for sailors as well. The demin jacket is $128.00. I purchased a very similar denim jacket from the Bass outlet for $39.99. J. Crew is introducing the t-shirt as “The 10 Percent Tee” (What?? No “010” Percent Tee?). The price is $85.00 for the short sleeved and $95.00 for the long sleeved Tee. I have the “90 Percent Tee”. My striped Tee shirt from Uniqlo was $9.99 and is incredibly well-constructed.
This is one of the few looks I’m in love with. But the price of the tee shirt is criminal.
Page 047. It’s impossible to tell what that skirt would look like because of the way the model is sitting. She looks like she’s waiting for Teddie the Sailor to take his pant off and make his way up her love canal. Can’t we just stand up straight to see what the skirt really looks like? Must we sit like a drunken college coed getting ready for the walk of shame?
I can’t even tell what this skirt looks like because of this vulgar pose. I guess it’s more stylish to not be able to see it correctly!
Page 051. The Marti Pant. I actually have these pants this pant, I think. I have so many J. Crew pants I can’t tell one from the other anymore. This outfit isn’t bad at all. I’m complaining about the dumb-ass pigeon-toed pose. It isn’t cute. It isn’t attractive. It isn’t adorable. One of my cousins had to wear a bar across her feet and ugly shoes to keep her feet from going inwards. This was another look I duplicated. Bonaparte liked it very much because of the shoes I was wearing. I’ve had the shoes for years but I always trip in them. They are a danger. Besides, I find this look to be better matched for a woman with incredibly long and thin legs. I look dumpy.
Believe me, I didn’t aspire to be pigeon-toed here, I almost fell! Bonaparte liked this look a lot–on me! But I think it looks a little dumpy because my size 8 pants look enormous compared to ol’ Flamingo legs next to me! BTW, that’s the $39.99 denim jacket I mentioned a few pages up!
Page 052. This Gayle person is getting on my last nerve. Check out her quote. I tried in vain to duplicate this look. I ended up wearing a chambray, J. Crew Factory popover shirt over a sleeveless dress I got on sale at Loft. I couldn’t even zip the dress up. Mind you, the dress is a size 8 and fits me perfectly on its own. I look like a house in this. This is a look that is made for a woman whose diet consists of Diet Coke and Marlboro Lights. End of story.
Yeah Gayle. Only if you are a size 000000!
You can see from my picture on the right–that’s what REALLY happens when a normal woman tries to layer a shirt under a dress! Good God, I look pregnant! Maybe it’s my stance!
Pages 062 and 063. What to Wear to Work. Not these two gets ups—that’s for sure.
No. Just no! I don’t know anyone, young or old who would wear that pastel pink number with sneakers to the office!
I’m sorry but that drop waist dress in heather gray, which looks more like a light swampy green, would not look good on any woman young or old who has an ample ass or ample hips. The sleeves. What happened to proper short-sleeves? These sleeves are more of a longer capped sleeve and that is not attractive on any set of arms! This is the opposite of style.
Now, I realize that many offices have gone casual business. I don’t consider Tretorn sneakers to be casual business. In fact, Tretorns do not belong anywhere near an office. If your office is on the ferry over to Fire Island—OK, then you are justified in the sneakers. And the baby pink? We are not little girls on our way to a birthday party. Leave the pastels to the little babies. A more appropriate Navy or black would be far more stylish.
Pages 066 and 067. Both are beautiful. I would wear the navy ensemble to work any day—if I had a job. I love the length of the skirt and I have the shirt—I got it on sale and it didn’t fit for a long time. Now it fits again! I love that tweed dress too. It is a beautiful look for a woman of any age!
Now we’re talkin’ proper office attire. Both of these looks are great and within a decent price range.
I stopped looking when I reached pages 068 and 069. The thought of wearing a party dress with sneakers threw me over the edge. The dresses are hideous anyway. They just are not pretty nor do they look as though they would flatter any shape other than the ten-foot, 95 pound models.
I stopped looking at the catalog Style Guide here. Sneakers with a party dress? I can see bare feet–but sneakers. That’s pushing it!
Every so often, J. Crew would patronize us old people by sneaking in the obligatory old person in the catalog or Style Guide. A few of the past issues had spreads with the beautiful and old Lauren Hutton. I say bring her back! Please! Not all customers of J. Crew are young—they are of all ages (i.e. OLD PEOPLE) and love the classic clothing.
Bring this woman back! Unretouched, natural, old-lady beauty. I love her! Better yet, put Hutton in CHARGE of the future Style Guides!
I don’t mind when somebody suggests how to wear or style an outfit, but the tone of the J. Crew Style Guide is just arrogant and self-righteous. Show outfits in the simplest form—or at least in a more realistic way.
Maybe Millard Drexler needs to give Jenna Lyons and Gayle their pastel-pink slips on that Style Guide!
For some strange reason I can’t stop thinking about the Amy Winehouse song “F*ck Me Pumps” today. Maybe it’s because I think J. Crew is fucking with me!
Public employment contributes neither to advantage nor happiness. It is but honorable exile from one’s family and affairs.”Thomas Jefferson. A long time ago.
You cannot imagine how joyful and filled with glee I was to be nominated for the Room 101 award.
Now THIS is a fun and unconventional award. Right up my alley!
My blogger sister in crime, Carol, from Writeful Mind bestowed this delightful honor on my yesterday. Just as I was feeling the bad mommy pangs and laughing hysterically at a photo I took of my son. And still laughing about it.
Seriously, only a truly awful mother would take photos of her child like this and continue to laugh for over 26 years every time she sees this! I should be banished to Room 101!
What makes me so happy is that I get to banish five things, people, events, and any “whatevers” that bother the living shit out of me to a Room with other exiles.
In other words. I get to bitch and complain and be completely respected and validated about this!!! The only issue with this is that my banishments are limited to five. I could go on and on.
Anyway, here are the five I banish into Room 101. The Room of Doom!
The Republican Party Candidates Who Want To Be Considered For Presidential Nomination: I’m also including Sarah Palin in this because she’s the object of their love and lust in this political gang-bang. Seriously. This circus is an embarrassment to the United States of America. Not a one of them speak of what they will do for these United States of America. Nothing about stopping the criminalization of Health Insurance Companies. Nothing about ageism. Nothing about the student loan issue. All they do is blab on and on and on and on and fist pump about war and hate and terrorism and hate. Whenever they run out of hateful things to say, they rely on Jesus. They also feel it is more important to throw shade at each other rather than face any really important issues. Jesus ain’t gonna help you morons, no matter how much you try to bring him into your platforms.
The circus of hate and ignorance. Wait? Where’s Donald?
Hey Donald, I hope you aren’t cheating on your beautiful foreign wife, Melanoma with the cancer known as Palin!
HR Princesses and Queens: Oh I am dying to throw these bitches into Room 101! Guess what? You are NOT the owner of the corporation that employs you. In fact, when your large corporation merges with another, YOU will be one of the first to get fired! You all think you are high and mighty—and the smug tone that you carry while you are interviewing is downright condescending. Are you that threatened by older women? Do you think it is ok for you to dismiss anyone over 50 years old? I laugh at your banishment because one day, you will be old and wrinkled and hopefully, you will lose a job and find out what it is like to be treated like shit from another, younger HR princess or queen!
Even Willie Wonka knows all about HR ! Maybe he’s thrown them in the Chocolate River!
Fashion Magazines, Cosmetic Companies, and Clothing Designers: I had to group you all together because you are basically sororities of all things that make real women feel intimidated. You make us feel worthless and ugly and fat. Anna Wintour, listen to Grace Coddington. She hates the fact that you have celebrities on your cover month after month after year. I stopped buying Vogue after Kim Kardashian and Kanye West were on Vogue’s cover. You, Ms. Wintour, have managed to take Diana Vreeland’s classy fashion monthly and turn it into the “National Inquirer” of the rag trade. In addition, I’m tired of cosmetic companies advertising for anti-aging creams and other potions, and lotions on twenty-year old, airbrushed, photo shopped faces to falsely advertise results. Real women, no matter how much goo we put on our faces, have little lines. We have scars and we have spots, blotches, freckles and flaws. Real is beautiful.Clothing designers—its bad enough you use girls who cannot even afford to or even want to buy some of your designs, but why do you insist on using underfed, 7-foot tall skeletons of women? Real women have tits and ass and short legs and some have blubber guts and some have teeny-tiny guts. It would be great to see how these clothes look on normal women before we get into the car, deal with traffic, look for a parking space at the mall only to arrive at Nordstrom, try the clothing on that you made and find out that we look horrible in those same designs that looked fabulous on those human Q-tips!
Diana Vreeland is probably rolling over in her designer grave right now. I’m pretty sure she would agree with me that Wintour is a celebrity pimp!
Ageism: Yeah. The “Ism” that nobody speaks of. Well, I’m speaking about it. In fact, I’m banishing you to Room 101 so you can have a lovefest with those HR bitches. All the agists belong here!
That’s right OLD lives DO matter! End Ageism!
Fundamental Fake Christians: Forget the room. This group needs a Condo 101 to be banished to. That’s right. All you Duggar’s, friends of Duggars and Gothard following fundies and more. You. Are. Banished. Oh yeah. You pretend to be good god-fearing individuals and you can recite passages from that man-made story book known as The Bible. But you don’t practice those words. You spew hatred, just like the Republicans and Conservatives, toward Catholics, Jews, Muslims, Gays, Transsexuals, Planned Parenthood and any other group that doesn’t fall into your phoney ideology.
Their phoney smiles try to hide their hateful ideology! The entire Duggar family is now banished to Room 101. I hope it’s a small room and you are all incredibly uncomfortable!
The spirit of Hipster Jesus is NOT with you. The spirit of Adolf Hitler seems to be more in tune with your souls.
That’s right you fake-Christian fundies. Hipster Jesus is a BFF of mine. HE knows how full of shit you are. He told me! We had a few glasses of wine last night while listening to Jesus Jones!
If you haven’t already, click on the links for these blogs—always entertaining!
Oh for the Rules:
Thank the blogger (Your’s truly) who nominated you. Then award 5 bloggers who fascinate, intrigue or tickle your curiosity with the Room 101 award badge logo and link their “About” and link them to your post. Attach these rules to your post. 5. Grab the badge and place on your trophy case!
Listen. All I want is peace and love. I want a more Hippie like environment. We need to change for the better. Right here. Right now. Oh..that’s what Hipster Jesus and I were listening to last night:
Today marks the 7th day that I’ve been indoors. I’ve only been outside to shovel the one scoop of snow before Bonaparte lovingly threw my fat ass back in the warmth of the chateau. I’ve also been outside to allow my beautiful designer rescue dog, Chippy, to do his business.
I am going stir crazy.
When I woke up this morning, I turned on the TV to greet my two delusional BFF’s. Matt O’Donnell and Tamla Edwards, the co-anchors of 6Action News.
Matt O’Donnell and Tamla Edwards are anchor rock stars. Oona and I used to watch them in the morning before she went to school. These days I watch my delusional best friends with Chippy! BTW, Matt’s hair looks epic here. Tamla’s hair always looks great!
I knew something was seriously wrong with my state of mind when I started a conversation with the both of them. And they answered me back.
Me: Ugh. Matt. Did you get a HAIRCUT?? OMG. It’s so short!
Matt: And a good morning to you too, Cathe. As a matter of fact, I DID get my hair cut.
Me: Knock it off Tamla. Matt needs fuller and bigger hair. Besides—he’s in a rock band. He NEEDS longer hair. Am I right??
Tamla: (sighs and turns to Matt). Matt, I’m afraid Cathe is right. Your hair DOES look better a bit longer.
Matt: Great! (Eyeroll of disgust), How can I anchor the news knowing my hair isn’t right?
Me: Go over to CBS and ask Jim Donovan. HE has the best news hair in the entire universe.
Yeah. That’s right. Jim Donovan IS the man of the blessed hair. I am now referring to him as St. James of the Divine Tresses. I think I’ll start praying to him for better hair days! Do you know how stressful it is for me to jump from Matt and Tam on 6ABC to St. James on CBS? My fingers sweat from clicking the remote!
Bonaparte, upon placing my morning cup of coffee in my delicate and fragile hand, kindly reminded me to perhaps get up out of bed, take a bath, shave my legs and get dressed. Ehhh? He didn’t have to see clients until later this afternoon. He suggested that perhaps after he drove his granddaughter to school, we could run some errands together.
Was Bonaparte suggesting that my six-day, non-washed hair and unshaved legs were a sign of no self-respect? Probably, but I love the way my hair looks when it gets dirty. Would St. James of the Divine Tresses think otherwise? Eww. My lips are so chapped!
I thought that would be a great idea since I needed to buy hair dye to color my roots. I mean, I’m leaving on a jet plane next week to visit Oona. I can’t go to see my daughter with gray white roots!
Before I sat my blubbery body down into the deep, hot, bubbly water of the tub, I glanced at my naked body. Hmmmm..I think the Paleo lifestyle may be working. My waist looked a bit more indented—and I wasn’t sucking it in!
After I took my bath and dried off, I ran into the bowels of my closet where I have my “displaced” wardrobe. Those are clothes that no longer fit, but I can’t bring myself to get rid of them because I want to wear them when I’m skinny again. Among the clothing is an old pair of original J. Crew Pixie Pants. The good ones that were made before Jenna Lyons and Drexler decided to go cheapy. These stretch but haven’t fit me in quite some time because my thighs and butt grew at an enormous rate.
You have no idea how happy I was that my “ORIGINAL” J. Crew Pixie pants slid over my thighs and around my butt. I’m thrilled. Maybe one of these years my old size 6 clothing will fit again!
Holy shit! They fit beautifully. I was so happy that I wanted to eat a Sundae made with Pecan Praline ice cream, gobs of chocolate hot fudge, salted walnuts and topped with whipped cream. Then I realized that on Paleo I cannot eat dairy or sugar. I opted for swallowing saliva instead.
Diary. Today is Throw Back Thursday on Facebook!!!!! I have to look through old photos to post. Ohhhh. I found some old pics of the kids and realized that I truly, compared to today’s entitled parents raising entitled children, was a bad mother! I let my kids eat pizza and McDonald’s at such a young age—and allowed them to wash it all down with soda! I let them play with dangerous toys, such as Ghostbusters pop guns. OMG. How did my kids ever survive?
I don’t know what’s worse–the fact that I held a birthday for Jake at Mc Donalds, or that I took pics of Roman eating pizza at three years old and THEN saw a Kodak moment when he held his soda like a drunk on a bender. No. What’s worse is that I’m still laughing at that bottom photo.
To make matters worse, I allowed my children to eat unassisted, like little animals shoving their faces into cake no less. CAKE!! AND IT ISN’T GLUTEN-FREE! Man, I really sucked at the mommy skills. Look at Jake at his half-birthday (note the “half” cake and “half” hat and “half” candle)..he’s going after the flame!
I also let Oona devour cake half naked. Screw that. I’m not getting those little girl designer clothes from alphabet city get dirty. Go naked and eat. What will the fundie Christians think of me????
I also allowed my boys to feed vicious wild animals and go swimming in the Atlantic ocean by themselves!
Oh wait! For being such a bad mommy, look how happy the kids are! Damn, I may have been bad mommy, but I sure knew how to have fun with the kids!
I decided to play around with my eye makeup. God knows what possessed me, but I applied orange eye shadow on my lids. It looked horrific but I didn’t care. The eye shadow is part of a Stila compact that I love and the orange looks pretty good when I’m fake-tanned and bronzed during the summer. I look like Jackie-O-Lantern.
How disgusting is this orange eye shadow? It’s so pitiful that I didn’t even bother to wipe the mascara off my upper lid. Its a sign that my lashes are growing back! I really need to trash that orange shadow. I’m shocked that Bonaparte never mentioned anything about it!
The snow is still here and not going anywhere so I decided to wear my Unisa boots that are dupes for the iconic Stuart Weitzman 50/50 Boots . I can’t afford the 50/50’s but the Unisa Boots were under forty bucks on sale at DSW so who cares if they get ruined by the snow? Am I right?
Isn’t this photo melange so fashion blogger-friendly? Look at the bottom photo, I even got the pidgeon-toed pose down pat! Seriously, these Unisa boots were a great buy!
I’m so inferior. As a blogger, I should be able to have a professional photographer take photos of me in my entire narcissistic splendor. Instead I have to rely on my iPhone and my crossed eyes that are constantly out of focus. C’est la vie!
When we got to route 422, the bane of existence for anyone who has to drive to work, I noticed that at 9:45 in the morning, traffic was at a standstill. I was secretly giddy with delight! I went to twirl my imaginary moustache with a “Nya ha haaa”, but realized that I needed a lip wax when I was actually able to twirl the hair above my lip!
Dick Dastardly isn’t the only one who can twirl a moustache!
It’s a good thing Bonaparte was with me to run errands. I would have spent a fortune of his money at Sally Beauty Supply had I been on my own. Instead, I lucked out on a twofer on the hair dye that I use! I picked up another teasing comb so I could throw it into my carry on bag for next week’s trip…
Ladies. Please. If you must have but one comb to tease you hair, THIS is the comb to get. It’s under three bucks and makes incredibly big hair. Remember, the higher the hair, the closer to Hipster Jesus!
Speaking of which, the second I got into the car, Bonaparte mentioned that we should go next door to TJ Maxx and look for a piece of “proper” carry on luggage. I knew very well what he meant. He wanted me to get a small suitcase. I explained that I LOVE my Longchamp weekender. I’ve grown much attached to it as I’m like a pit bull. Very territorial.
So to please my Frenchman, I agreed to lurk through all the “last season” cast offs at TJ’s. I found a cute little Silly-Putty colored carry on suitcase by Guess. This is actually a good thing. It isn’t black. Everyone and their sister has a black suitcase so the light color will be easier to spot—especially if some asshole tries to run off with it. The other thing is that it’ll get filthy and dirty a lot quicker and who wants to steal a filthy dirty suitcase?
I love the color, it’s like “Silly Putty” and it’ll match my nude Repetto ballet flats and light tan Nan & Nin bag! I’ll travel just like royalty!
Bonaparte made the mistake of asking me asked if I needed anything else. While we were there I picked up some inexpensive panties and a bra. I threw in one of those travel neck pillows for good luck and comfort!
This Calvin Klein Bra is good for under button-down shirts because it isn’t that padded so the buttons will lie smoothly. All of this is in my bag for next week’s trip!
Off to Barnes & Noble next. Bonaparte picked up a couple of books. He’s very deep. He picked up books that I would never read. He asked me if I wanted anything and I said “No”. Diary, I really fear there is something seriously wrong with me. Nothing at Barnes and Noble struck me as anything I wanted to read. I hope it isn’t my appendix. What side is my appendix on anyway? I could have found something to read.
I HAD to take a photo of this. Look at the placement. My hat is off to the person who did this. I’m wondering how many people passed this and got a good chuckle?
And suddenly, I had a craving for beef liver. I’m telling you. This Paleo thing is making me crave offal an awful lot! I’m dreaming of liver, kidneys and tongue! The snow has gotten to me in more ways than one—I’ll tell you that much! The other day I almost got into a fist fight with the meat person at the KOP Wegman’s. I asked if the pretend “Butcher” had any beef or calves liver. The guy looked at me as though I was crazy (which I am) and smugly told me that they throw the fresh liver in the trash. The only liver they had was frozen.
Fucktard.
I walked over to the frozen meat section and there was no liver. Then I went to Giant supermarket and they didn’t have fresh liver either.
Today we went to Acme in Paoli. The store has a real butcher. Not a pretend one like Wegman’s. I asked the butcher if they had fresh beef or calves liver. They didn’t. All they had was frozen.
How come stores don’t sell fresh liver anymore? I know that I am NOT the only person on Philly’s Main Line who is on Paleo so where is the offal? I’m awfully upset!
I picked up a pack of frozen liver and broccoli rabe. That’s my dinner for tonight and I cannot wait to eat. I’m so hungry that Chippy is beginning to resemble a hot dog—but hot dogs are processed food so I wouldn’t be able to eat him anyway.
Chippy ran downstairs after he saw that mad look in my eyes. No Chippy, I won’t eat you!
Diary, I’m earning “brownie points” today. When we arrived home, Bonaparte asked me if I was going to take a drive to the outlets. I mentioned earlier that I would probably spend my afternoon walking around the outdoor shops.
I told Bonaparte that I didn’t want to be tempted to spend his money. I may be a crazed old woman but like Eliza Doolittle, I’m a good girl, I am! Either that or I really am seriously ill!
Yeah. I’m a real Eliza Doolittle!
Oh,Diary. The snow has turned me into a stir-crazed woman, but it’s nice to be here with Chippy and a nice cuppa tea on this late January day! I’m very optimistic that it won’t snow for the rest of the season.
How optimistic am I? I’ve been singing this Shirley Temple song all afternoon. Pathetic that I know all the words: “Be Optomistic” from Little Miss Broadway and starring The Brian Sisters! BE OPTOMISTIC Everyone!! XOXOXO
Today is National Holocaust Day. I’m on the fence about this because the Holocaust shouldn’t have just one day of remembrance. We should always have a piece of this placed in our memory bank—whether Jewish or not.
It shouldn’t be remembered for just one day.
Being a writer, I’m on the internet. A lot. Doing all sorts of research. And the internet is rife with news of reality show participants who think they are celebrities. Betheny Frankel of Real Housewives of New York’s face was splattered all over the net due to a rant she had about K-Mart and some of the help speaking Spanish.
Andie MacDowell, the former model-turned-Hallmark-Channel-actress, ranted publicly because she was downgraded from first class into what she called “tourist” class. Granted, the airlines made an error in downgrading her because of her dog, but to smugly call anyone not in first class “tourist”—is vulgar and entitled. Remember Andie—your voice was dubbed in “Greystoke—The Legend of Tarzan”. (Now there’s an important movie *cough*).
Then we have the Oscar boycott. I swear on my mother’s grave, my hand to God, it is easier to find celebrity information than it is to find detailed information and other lesser-known nuances about the of The Holocaust, WWII, and Nazi-occupied France!
And as the years go by, it seems that the Holocaust fades into history and almost becomes forgotten.
As a young student in Catholic school, we became aware of the fact that Jews were exterminated by Hitler and his Nazis. But we were never taught about the atrocities—the inhumane medical experiments, the treatment of Jews in concentration camps, the way their bodies were starved and beaten and upon death from the gas chambers or ovens, the way their bodies were thrown into trenches.
Starved prisoners, nearly dead from hunger, pose in concentration camp in Ebensee, Austria. The camp was reputedly used for “scientific” experiments. It was liberated by the 80th Division. May 7, 1945. Lt. A. E. Samuelson. (Army) NARA FILE #: 111-SC-204480 WAR & CONFLICT BOOK #: 1103
Although we were made aware of the horrors of the camps, we were never told about what really took place.
I have Jewish relatives and friends, but have never really spoken with either in –depth on how the Holocaust had or may have affected their families.
Bonaparte, however, was born in 1944. Just as the Nazi occupation in France was ending.
His family was greatly affected. And what I’m writing is just one of many, many family stories. It may not be as horrific as others, but in the words of Bonaparte’s father, Dany “The war tore families apart. It destroyed our family”
Bonaparte, on the right with his sister, Isabelle and mother Evie. This photo was taken when the family was still recovering from the devastation of the Nazi Occupation in France.
Bonaparte’s paternal grandmother, Muse, was Jewish and was fortunate enough to have escaped to England.
Muse, Bonaparte’s fraternal grandmother was incredibly lucky to have escaped to England.
Not much has been said about Bonaparte’s grandfather, J. H. Lartigue, the photographer.
Dany Lartigue, as a boy, with his father in his studio.
Dany, Bonaparte’s father, escaped STO, Service du Travail Obligatoire three times—finally making the trek by foot to Switzerland for freedom.
Bonaparte’s maternal grandfather, Andre Girard, founded the CARTE Network and was extremely active in The Resistance. He was also fortunate enough to be summoned to England and avoid arrest, but his wife’s fate was far worse.
Andre Girard, Bonaparte’s maternal grandfather, was very active in The Resistance, helping Jews to escape the Nazis.
Girard, a talented artist, moved to Nyack, NY after the war ended. He moved there thinking that his wife, Andrée had been murdered in Ravensbrück. She wasn’t. Andrée was one of only 15,000 who survived until the liberation. War wore the couple down completely.
This image, from Getty, is only one of the many photos of what happened at Ravensbruck. There are no more words…
Andrée, who was Catholic, was arrested by the Gestapo and sent to Ravensbrück concentration camp and onto Theresienstadt in Czechoslovokia. She was sent to Theresienstadt in error—and it was a move that saved her life.
Andree Girard’s life was actually ironically saved by being transferred from Ravensbruck to Theresienstadt. Surviving one camp is a feat that many have–but surviving two is nothing short of a miracle.
Entrance to Theresienstadt. The above reads “Work Makes You Free”. It’s so pathetic.
She finally returned to Paris when the War ended and was reunited with her daughters at The Hotel Lutetia. Danièle told me, other than the birth of her son, the day her mother returned was the happiest day of her life.
Thousands of displaced persons and those freed from camps found a safe haven at the Hotel Lutetia. Each time I pass it, I always think of what Bonaparte’s grandmother must have thought as she returned here to Paris.
Bonaparte’s aunt, Danièle and I had a few conversations about the family’s years during the Occupation. She told me that whenever she heard a German accent she became terrified—and she told me this just a couple of years ago. Well into her eighties, she still feared that accent.
Daniele Delorme poses in Paris, France, in November 2011. Photo by Vim/ABACAPRESS.COM | 296757_004
Daniele and I had many conversations about her time during WWII. She and her sisters were so young to have gone through what they did—I cannot imagine today’s young people having the strength that all off the young people throughout Europe had during those days.
She told me of the uncertainty of being in the “Free Zone”. With her father, André, in England, and her mother, Andrée, arrested and in Ravensbrück, the four sisters, Evie (Bonaparte’s mother), Danièle, Théote, and Marguerite were on their own, being split with relatives and family friends in Antibes and other areas of the South.
The girls had no mother to teach them object lessons about life. It was during the time in the Free Zone that Danièle became interested in theatre. And that interest is what could have gotten her mother arrested. Danièle’s first “boyfriend” was Gérard Philipe, who would go on to become one of the greatest French actors. Danièle and the Girard family always believed that it was Philipe’s parents who informed the Gestapo of the whereabouts of Andrée and her being arrested by the Gestapo when she boarded a train for Paris.
Other than the fear, Danièle was always visibly uncomfortable talking about the days of the Nazi occupation in France. She was lucky too, because she was too young and feisty to realize what the Nazi’s could have done to her after she narrowly escaped arrest as well.
Dany, Bonaparte’s dad, doesn’t speak of it at all—only to say that it destroyed their family.
Dany Lartigue, last summer. Every time I see him he ALWAYS mentions how the war destroyed the family.
Hate is an evil emotion. Hitler’s hatred for Jews destroyed much more than families. His hatred almost destroyed an entire culture and wreaked havoc on civilization. All this from the hatred spewed from one person. Hate kills. Hate maims. Hate destroys.
We must remember this because at present, hatred is rearing its ugly little head –in politics, in religious ideology, in antisemitism. This hatred cannot grow. It will never be destroyed but perhaps it can be buried and kept at bay.
If you want to learn a bit more about the Nazi occupation in France and the atrocities of the disgusting Nazi Party the horrors of Hitler, there are many documentaries and films on this subject. I recommend the following:
le Chagrin et la Pitie, The Sorrow and The Pity, is an excellent documentary focusing on Vichy. Children of the Chabannes is REMARKABLE–it is about a school in one of France’s remote southern areas. The staff took in children from all over Europe and it is so uplifting and special. It tells of the kindness that was shown during the war. Night and Fog is a short–a little over a half hour. It is really intense but people need to see what kinds of horrors this war brought about.
In addition, if you visit Washington DC, The Holocaust Museum is a must-see. If you are visiting Paris, The Mémorial de la Shoah is one museum that should also be a must see. The French hold no punches and it is an alarming yet necessary place to visit. We really cannot forget what evil viciousness that mankind is capable of.
Thank you for reading this post today. My apologies for not adding my usual humorous tone but this isn’t a subject to be taken lightly. And please remember to click on the links that I’ve added.
My love to you all and my wishes for peace in our world. Let’s save ourselves!
She was an old lady who traveled with her Frenchman in a plane in the sky and she had gone eighty-four days now without failing to stress about her luggage. In the first forty days her Frenchman had been annoyed with her. But after forty days the Frenchman had told her that the old lady was now definitely and finally fou, which is the worst form of emotional state to be in. The Frenchman sad to see the old lady spend time each day with her luggage opened and closed; opened and closed. And he always suffered while he observed her obsession.
The old lady was not thin and gaunt, but she was with deep wrinkles in the front of her neck. She called this her “turkey neck” The brown blotch of the benevolent skin cancer the sun brings from its reflection on the tropic sea had been erased from her forehead some years ago by MOHS surgery. She had a scar. She also had a scar from a horrific bathroom accident. It occurred while cleaning the bathtub.. But none of these scars were fresh. They were as old as a well-worn pair of Bass Weejuns the old lady had since her high school days.
Everything about her was old except her crossed eyes and they were the same murky greenish-brown color as the dirty Atlantic Ocean and her Frenchman’s eyes were as blue as the Mediterranean Sea. Both sets of eyes were cheerful and undefeated….
Yes. While shoveling Bonaparte’s car out of the deep piled carpet that Snowmageddon left us, I thought about how I inspired Hemingway to write “The Old Man and The Sea”. Great minds think alike!
YOU may know him as “Papa” Hemingway. But in my delusional mind, he’s just Ernie! He’s giving me “that look” again. Ernie. You are a little devil you!
I lied. I really didn’t inspire him. My delusions and daydreams had me inspiring Ernest Hemingway. But I got to thinking. And you know how in my world one thought randomly leads to another. I started thinking about my travels throughout France, Ireland, Australia and domestic USA trips and my luggage woes!
I’m a very territorial old broad you know. Maybe it’s because I grew up in a large family and it was every member of the wild pack of wolves, sibling for themselves. Yes. That’s it! I remember one of my sisters borrowing criminally stealing my clothing and lending them to her friends. I want my shit with me!
I’m in front. Behind me, Theresa, Tommy, Germaine and Pete! We all look alike!
And if you read my post about the infamous luggage debacle from a few years back, you can understand just why I’m a bit OCD about my suitcase! The Trouble With Travels
Anyway, I’m going to be leaving in a week to visit Oona in Arkansas. The kids gifted me at Christmas with a round trip ticket. It’ll be a fun “Mommy and Me” visit –especially when we play the game “How Many Times Will We Argue and Make Up?” All kiddin’ aside, I’m looking forward to seeing my baby.
Looking foward to a fun visit with Oona! I hope I don’t run into any Duggars while in Arkansas. I just may start an ugly scene and do NOT want to embarass my daughter!
But. I AM stressing over packing. It’s a Wednesday through Sunday trip and naturally everything will fit in my carry on. I am in love with my Longchamp weekender. This bag can hold a house!
I LOVE this Longchamp weekender. I picked it up at CDG, just moments before we boarded the plane to return from Paris. Do NOT dismiss airport shops. You can get the greatest deals. I paid 43 euros for this–which is a steal!! Airport shopping is the greatest! You are welcome!
Here’s how I’m stuffing packing.
I have to throw in some underwear—but first I have to get up off my lazy ass and do some laundry in order to complete that task!
Hair products? I have a travel sized Toppik to sprinkle on my bald spots. I’ll bring my teasing comb and some hair ties. That’s it. Oona has plenty of hairspray. Besides, my hair looks so much better the dirtier it gets!
My little travel sized Toppik will last me for the time I’m in Arkansas!
Makeup and skin care: That gets packed last and goes on top of everything. I place it in a plastic garbage bag to ensure against leakage. Kind of like a “Depends” for cosmetics!
My makeup bag will go in last..but I’ll put it in …
A large white plastic garbage bag to ensure against any leakage onto clothing. The “Depends” of travel!
My journals will be in my oversized purse—as will be pens and colored pencils.
Thank goodness I organized my writing equipment. I’m NOT taking a direct flight so I’ll have loads of time to write!
My lounging/PJ/slob clothing always travels with me! Just in case I forget who I am, my NY Tee shirt!
The plush leggings from Primark that I picked up for Oona. She LOVES these!
An extra pair of MY Primark shaper leggings to suck my ripples and wrinkles inward!
My *cough* “Workout” ensemble. Oona is taking me to her gym. I haven’t worn this get up in over a year two years.
Workout clothing and lounging clothes will go in this little thingy. It makes for easier packing and gives the bottom of my carry on a bit more structure!
I’m bringing one pair of skinny jeans. I’m so happy that my size 8’s fit again!
One Old Navy Fitted White Tee. I bought so many of these last summer (because they were on sale for four bucks each) that I still haven’t worn them all. The size “S” fits like a glove. Downsize the Tee’s or they will be too loose and sloppy looking!
OK. See this outfit? Primark Shaper Leggings, Boots and a nice tunic shirt I picked up at Nordstrom Rack. I was going to wear this on the plane. NOTE TO SELF: REMIND BONAPARTE TO POLISH MY BOOTS! But I had a change of plans. I’ll wear the leggings and the boots and I’ll pack the tunic shirt and wear it when we go out to dinner on Saturday night..but……
I’ll wear the black sweater on the plane and pack the Navy Sweater…
And I’ll wear my old-worn in, six-year old Tory Burch Reva flats until I get through the TSA, then I’ll put the boots on and put these in my carry on. Makes sense?
I’ll also wrap this lightweight wool scarf from J. Crew around my neck. I don’t like to travel with heavy scarfs and this is the perfect weight!
Last but not least, my navy J. Crew Schoolboy blazer. If the weather is somewhat warm in Arkansas, I don’t want to be traipsing around in a heavy coat! Ugh. the blazer doesn’t look that great from the photo. It never ceases to amaze me how other bloggers seem to have professional photos. HTF can they afford it?
The best thing about this is that after I return home, the carry on will be left out and slowly—very slowly, I’ll be adding items for my summer trip to the Cote d’Azur. It should be easy. The apartment has a washing machine and we spend a lot of time at the beach so I don’t need much! If I lose enough weight, I’ll only need the bottom of my swimsuits anyway!
I have five more months to obsess! That Bonaparte is one lucky man!
I’m in the mood for more Michel Polnareff today: La Poupee qui fait non!
I’ve had a few inquiries of how Bonaparte and I met. It was a post that I wrote when I first started blogging. So..without further adieu (screw the spelling–I’m working on another post). I present…..
Jenna Lyons in what could possibly be the most horrific “PANT” of all time. The shirt looks sloppy!
