Movie Madness - We Need To Talk About Kevin

Whoa...I loved it. Creepy, heart-racing, roller-coaster in and out of time periods and in and out of Kevin's brain. We never figured out just what it is that makes some of us totally nuts, maybe since it was early and the caffeine hadn't kicked in yet, but we hung on for an incredible ending. Acting, direction, cast, plot - perfect.

Lunch Bunch

The Mr. and Mrs. Old Wildcat Green House, the brussels sprouts, the brain freeze, the doctor sloughing (not concierge), the Spain trip, the seventh grade Skateland memories and the dancing fountains and a bench on a top down kind of day.

AcroCats!

Here Kitty, Kitty, Kitty. The amazing AcroCats at space55 were hilarious. They jumped, they did tricks, they were snotty, they played in a band - The Rock Cats (need more cowbell) as the crowd went wild. We got home and attempted some of the tricks on our own brood.

Nothing.

Upcoming - World Happy Day

A movie about being happy. What have you got to lose?

February 11th at Desert Ridge

Looking Up

Even if you weren't raised in Chicago with seven sisters by Holocaust survivors, doesn't mean you won't find yourself and your family in this book. Incredible stories, hilarious characters, heartbreaking moments.

Linda had the audience in hysterics as she read some parts of her book and regaled us all with stories of the favorite sisters, the Holocaust vacations and, hopefully, ideas for the next book.

Mesquite Library

Job Creator

Hi. I'm a Job Creator. There I am above creating jobs (obviously I need to pitch in more to the Pedicurist down the street, but I've been busy with end-of-the-year stuff). Our little company has four employees. Besides the four of us, I give a lot of money to Cox and immunization manufacturers and the City of Scottsdale and Staples and restaurants around town when we get hungry. Our patients come in and then go out into the neighborhood and spend money at pharmacies and x-ray facilities and Staples and restaurants around town when they get hungry, helping fellow Job Creators. Funny how that works. Seem to remember learnin' something about that in business school. And, oh, I pay my taxes. I have a CPA that puts up with my old pedicures and messy desk, but instead of going all Cayman Island on me, she makes me send in my fair share. Not a wimpy 13.9% like this guy.

Jeez. Look who's talking about handouts and lowering taxes for the wealthy so we'll get more Job Creators. Please. He rakes in over $50,000 a day (YES, A DAY!!) and the only jobs he has created for the past couple of years are for four cleaning ladies to dust and vacuum his various homes, paying them each about $5,000. 

At that rate, hopefully he threw in a few pedicures.

Book Club - The Thousand Autumns of Jacob De Zoet

Off to a good 2012 start at Maddie's. She shoots! She scores!

A houseful of Divas plus a skin care Diva wannabe giving us facials and hand scrubs while a not-so-Diva wannabe videographer documented Leslie's every move as she makes her way to Jobland, snagging a piece of Stardom along the way as she Remakes America

Leslie - aka "The Talent"

We tried to keep it clean, hardly any f-bombs escaped as we cackled on cue about Catherine The Great to Tina Fey as the Everything But Pea Pea soup and homemade bread filled us up.

I couldn't get through the book. Sorry, Mr. David Mitchell. But I've moved on, and in preparation for his visit here next month, I'm brushing up on one of funny man Garrison Keillor's old books, Love Me.

And I do.

I Heart U

Looking to fire your writing rocket???

Loveeee Writing Workshop (and CANDY!!!!) at the amazing Smeeks

February 9th

State of the Union

Listen up tonight, Washington. And while you're here in Arizona tomorrow, Mr. President, maybe we can chat for a bit.

Water, Water Everywhere But Not A Drop To Drink

It's amazing how much we take for granted. After 24 hours without water in the house, I have a new pipe, clean hair and a renewed realization of just how easy our lives are. I picked up some bottled water and got it home without having to carry it on my head, but wondered if I should drink any since flushing wasn't an option. What about the dirty dishes? Dirty cothes? Mr. Manscaped Metrosexual, who can't get through a day without two showers (reminds me of the Schweddy Balls skit), almost went nuts (no pun intended). My one cat that will only drink running water from a faucet poo poo-ed every effort I made to stick a bowl under her nose. But she survived. We all did.

Crossing my fingers on the new pipe.

Cain and Abel

Like Cain and Abel, Shawn and his brother. We've been out of the loop for years, but showed up to help celebrate Scott's Big 50th.

Truce?

TGIF

Cool artist Julianne Swartz presented her incredible installation tonight down at the ASU Art Museum. What's a miracle?  Running into lots of pals always seems like a miracle to me, but get on down there to find some of your own...

And, part two, another cool chick doing a little storytelling...Tania Katan at Scottsdale Center for the Arts told us all about her first job at Snow Oasis. Oh, how I remember that place. Fun night with a great line-up including Bill Goodykoontz and the nice lady next to me that loaned me her leopard-print Snuggie to cuddle up in - there's got to be a story in there.

Red Balloons

The not-so-old high school gang is still plugging along. Here we are celebrating Susie's birthday at dive bar DJ's. Mr. Swenson crashed the bash with his just-met-in-the-parking-lot-very-first-Match.com-date, Deb. Seems like we haven't taught him anything over the years, but she fit right in anyway.

R & J

Gotta love a little romance. Had a wild time at Wild Thaiger then what a fun, fun, fun evening with the boys down at Phoenix Little Theater, playing the girl parts, too, like back in the 'ol Bard's time. INCREDIBLE acting. The best I've ever seen here.

Politically Incorrect...

One shouldn't get all their news from Comedy Central, but it's a good place to start. "News" flash - Stephen Colbert is running for the President of the United States of South Carolina. Here's a nice explanation of what a SuperPAC is as the second anniversary of Citizens United nears. In this day and age of protests and the 99% vs. the 1%, it's not so funny anymore.

Lesson Part 1
Lesson Part 2
Lesson Part 3
Lesson Part 4
Lesson Part 5

Sunday A'Fair

Fun Sunday kick-off to 2012 with the always amazing Walt Richardson and his Bob Marley to Beatles songs. Stopped off beforehand with my very own car freak in this full of car freaks right now town to check out some soon-to-be-auctioned cars, surrounded by bunches of guys with attitudes like this

before hitting the grass for a little Brown Eyed Girl to calm everybody down.

Every Sunday for a few months. 12 - 4. SMOCA's free, too. 

Cougar

Someone should have warned me - Don't marry a younger guy.

Hard, I know, at nineteen to actually find one, but I did. The other day we were driving to work. Well, I was driving to work, young thang next to me was complaining about my driving. It's the first thing to go, I guess. The reflexes. The vision. The concern about other people on the road. My morning friend Beth on the radio started talking about couples. Is he hotter than you? What does one do when your spouse ages better than you? Stick to dark bars? Don't go out? I looked over at Mr. Sunshine in the passenger seat. When he gets a grey hair, it's distinguished. A wrinkle, wise. So unfair.

Pretty soon, he'll probably make me drop him off in back where nobody can see.

A little song while we can still hear...

Maggie May

O' Christmas Tree

Poor Santa. We wore him out this year. Not to mention the tree. We had a Zach Christmas on the 19th. A couple of other ones around the actual little baby Jesus fake winter birthday date and then, after waiting for the in-laws to recover from a thirty-day Dubai - Cape Town cruise and for Shana to get back to town to grace us with her presence (and presents), we had the last round on January 6th. It was close to 80 degrees out by then. The tree had started to droop. The starlight on top needed to be propped up. The thing started to smell. Sort of smokey. Char-y around the bulbs. Around New Year's Day, I stopped using the lights unless I was sitting right there, fire extinguisher handy, and, just to be safe, unplugged them from the wall when I wasn't until the last present was unwrapped. Today I walked past the plain, naked tree lying by the back gate waiting for next week's pick-up and smelled something.

Pine.

The Food Trucks are coming, the Food Trucks are coming

Is Gourmet Food Truck an oxymoron???

I may never find out. I'm trying to stick with the whole vegan, nothing-with-a-face-or-a-mother thing, and after reading that the cool new Phoenix vegan food truck beet strEAT closed up shop and wasn't going to be at the food fest, I figured I should probably find a different eat street.

Mother-Daughter Art

Yowza!! A little mother-daughter discussion between two artists, moderated by the pretty talented herself, Deborah Susser. Both women, Mom, Beth Ames Swartz and daughter, Julianne Swartz, are incredibly creative. I can't wait to spend more time looking at and learning more about their work. At the end of the evening, the two were asked if they learned anything tonight about each other. Beth is in awe of Julianne's work and told her that she is sorry she won't be around for thirty more years to see how it all turns out. Julianne was inspired by the presentation of the decades-long accumulation of beautiful art and the meaning behind it. She looked at her mom and said, after having been upset about it as a young girl, "I'm glad you didn't make cookies."

You can't buy that.

Knockers Up!

If Rusty Warren could see us now...

she'd fit right in.

The Knockers Up gang gathered at the little 'ol PV ranch house, built by Rusty in the early seventies and totally transformed into a right-out-of-a-magazine stunner by the amazing Anne. Every corner in the 5,000 plus place was full of yet another creative surprise. She gave us the tour, told us the secrets (like about all the parties there where Liberace played the piano) and we watched out for the spirits as the Knockers Up CD played in the background. In preparation for our bash, Leanne swooped over to Rusty's current digs in Hawaii last month and got some first-hand gossip, a glimpse at a wall of Who's Who head shots from back in Las Vegas and a great time watching a fun broad relive her glory days.

Speaking of fun broads, I'm pretty sure the 2012 version of the Knockers Up club will keep the stories coming, too.

Mother-Daughter

Yeah, a guy got invited out for our last hurrah lunch, but Shana and I have had one fun mother-daughter fest, just like the old days. The house has been full of kids and the moms have been coming out, too. There was the Carla-Megan brunch, the Leslie-Chelsea and Maddie-Nina (and Sam!) rally/movie, the Sue-Heather (and Shila!) happy hour, and capping off a shortened, off with Zach, holiday season, a little True Foods with the padres before she got in her car and headed off for the last one, the last semester, the last round of classes, the last Dean's List certificate for the pile as Shawn and I watched her go. How is this possible?

And then there were two...

WOW - War on Women

I got called a baby killer today.

Weird, because there I was, quietly walking along the sidewalk with my baby, alive and well.

It must have been my pink shirt. OMG lady! How judgmental was she? And if it wasn't for the orangey-suntan shade of her panty hose in her sensible shoes, I would have said something. But you just can't talk to people like that. I wanted to tell her just because I'm Pro-Choice doesn't mean I'm Pro-Abortion. Nobody's Pro-Abortion. We Choosy peeps need a new slogan anyway. How can you win going up against Pro-Life? We should be the REALLY, REALLY Pro-Lifers! We want babies. We love babies.

I was one of the lucky babies. I had a cool mom. A smart dad. Zero creepy uncles or asshole boyfriends. A high school sex-ed teacher. A good head on my shoulders. Health insurance. Most kids aren't so lucky and that's why I went to the walk today. Showed a bit of support. Stood there with my awesome Pink Ladies.

So take off your pantyhose and go spend some time with a teen-ager or two if you really do care. It's not just about bumper stickers and voting. Help her. Talk with him. Give them just a tiny bit of education so we don't have to keep meeting like this.

Plus, I bet pink's your color.

Rally

Movie Madness

A row-full of Moms and Mini-Mes watched as an incredible cast fought and fought and fought. A little dig here. Snide remark there. Vomit all over priceless books. Loved it.

Carnage

Love, Loss and What I Wore

Hilarious journey.

Ticket 2 Ride

All I could see was the gun. I folded my hands in my lap, faced forward and hoped Shawn wouldn’t say anything stupid as the voice from above asked, “Do you know how fast you were going?” After treating our early morning commute in the HOV lane like a trip down the Autobahn, complete with scared to death screaming and nails digging in my legs, my speed racer husband mumbled from inside his little car, “A hundred?”

“No,” said the cop, “I clocked you at 123.”


I could’ve killed Shawn. He's supposed to be saving lives at work, not running them over on the way. I know I’m not perfect. I’m a regular at defensive driving school for the occasional over-the-limit speed, or a roll through a stop sign or a once in a while glance at a text, but this was serious. Mr. Man With The Gun could have taken Felony Shawn to jail right then and there, leaving me by the side of the road to ponder things like bail, work release programs, hiring a replacement for him at the office, gay prison sex, or saying to our daughter, Shana, “Look, Honey, there’s Dad over there in the orange jumpsuit.”


I wanted him to suffer. He should suffer. But since that somehow required also making me suffer, I dropped my holier-than-thou, our-justice-system-isn’t-fair, who’s-fighting-for-the-little-guy-while-those-Richie-Riches-pay-everybody-off attitude. Shawn’s Get Out Of Jail Free card cost fifteen hundred bucks and his sleazy but smart new attorney made the whole thing disappear.


I knew that car would be trouble. Instead of Porsche it should be called Spoiled Brat. He spends hours massaging the leather, polishing the paint, going over every inch with high-end products and towels he hand washes himself in Woolite, lovingly draping them all over the house to air dry. This from a guy that can’t pick up his socks. When he’s not with the car, he’s thinking about it, researching parts and accessories, talking to other car addicts online, gazing at each other’s beauties like car porn.


Meanwhile, my big, white four-door is a freak show. It's full of wrinkled clothes, sticky Diet Pepsi spills, mismatched shoes and days worth of fast food wrappings. Shawn actually shakes when I get in his car, knowing that the greasy lotion and drippy lip-gloss I’m about to use translates into another hour of maintenance when they’re back in the garage, just the two of them, making my chances for a little attention drop to zero.


After a few months in the doghouse, Shawn was back at it, speeding, coming home one day with his head hanging low. “I’m selling the car,” he said. “It’s already on the Internet. I mean it.” This time it was 60-something in a 35. Busy street. Rush hour. Still a felony. He said something about not being able to get his foot off the accelerator. Yeah, right. The lawyer, now on speed dial, didn’t get any cash for making ticket number two disappear. Instead, Shawn traded him something for his fee - a gun, a watch, a blowjob - I don't know. I don't want to know. But he didn’t dare touch the checkbook and I figure that, at least, is progress.


These days, the little yellow car has an alarm that goes off when the speedometer hits 45, sort of like a Pavlovian neutering device. To make up for the wimpy bell, Shawn took off the muffler and now drives around thinking he sounds more like a badass, wreaking havoc on the environment as well as our neighbors’ peace and quiet. I yell at him as we rumble down the road, “It sounds like a lawnmower!”


“WHAT?” he says. He can’t even hear me anymore.


Maybe that was the idea.

Look what Santa brought. At least this one has a muffler.

Holla Holla Holla Happy Hour

Party on the Patio for a Happy New Year Happy Hour with four generations showing up to toast in the new year.

Hippy Chick

San Francisco with your Mom.


San Francisco with your boyfriend.

Locked up at Alcatraz

Just sayin'...

Movie Madness - Shame

Movie Madness 2012 kicked off the new year by getting down and dirty. Really down and dirty. Whoa. Deep, dark drama about sex, boundaries, perspective and trying to survive all those Catholic little secrets from childhood. Incredible.