Downton Divas

Fun weekend up in the pines with some of the warm ones.

9/29/12

See ya, Shana

Shana asked, "Are you going to cry?" I don't know how many empty nest eves one can take. It's been a fun long summer (late spring and early fall, too) with Shana under the roof, but she's flying the coop again. Off to an apartment with some roomies. Still close, but it will all change again.  The quiet house. We decided if she moves back in again, she'll be a loser. The one that couldn't hack the real world. Nobody wants that. So no tears this time.      

At least none that she'll see...

Carmona

Carmona!

Encouraging article by Howard Fineman Carmona - could he turn AZ blue?

Carmona for Arizona website

Orange Sky

Orange Sky dinner, wine on the pooled patio, Camelback Mountain turning orange, downstairs to dance to Toto's Africa, then back up to the view, mountain black, city lights twinkling and a bottle of Champagne to toast twenty-eight years. 

Happy Peace Day

Got our Day of Peace fix at The Franciscan Renewal Center, after some pre-peace bread and wine at El Charro, for some great music, uplifting stories and a little girl in a blue tutu that stole the show.

Amen!

Click

Hey, Facebook friend, one more Birther crack and we’re through. I realize we haven't spoken since high school, but when did you become such a shit? Last I remember, we were drinking Tab and dancing to Pat Benatar. Now you’re posting vile, quick-fire responses to the Fox News survey question: Are all Democrats Christian-hating, lazy, crackheads on welfare?

          Back in the day, we had such fun racing to Taco Bell during twenty minute lunch periods. Now you’re loading up on waffle fries at Chick-fil-A to protest “the gays” and threatening to homeschool your kids since the evil First Lady forces poisoned apples down their throats.  When we went treat-or-treating at pro-choice Barry Goldwater’s house, I don’t recall you throwing eggs, yelling “baby killer” when they handed out candy, but now you type it all the time.  And when did you become such a racist? I know you didn’t get your warped view staying up late with me on Saturday nights to watch Eddie Murphy in our totally whitewashed neighborhood, so who taught you to hate? Your parents always seemed so nice.

Shut up, already, about the lame stream media. You graduated from high school. You know how to read. Spewing “Obama is a Hitler-worshipping Socialist Muslim” every night just makes you sound like an idiot. Try to come up with an actual fact and quit repeating ditto-headed talking points like “voter fraud is the greatest problem of our time.” Remember science class? Evolution actually happened. So did global warming. Did you ever hear my mom shout, “Girls, hurry, get inside, there’s a haboob coming?” No? Neither did I. 

Do you know anybody that lost a home or couldn’t afford medicine for the kids after a job was shipped to China? Just because we grew up in suburbia paradise, trust me, it's safe to get out of the bubble every now and then, climb down from your blurry Citizens United merry-go-round, riding up and down on fancy ballet horsies named Pfizer, Exxon and Chase and take a good look around.

            It’s not like I hate Republicans. Some of my best friends are Republicans. We may disagree, but there’s still love and respect between us, while all your redeeming qualities seem to be stuck back in the 80s. But at least here in fake Facebookland I can stop the ALL-CAPS YELLING with just one mouse click. So, for now, you know where you can put your NObama yard sign, right? Have fun at your post-election pity party and good luck with that whole “moving to Canada” thing. Maybe you can fly down for our thirtieth reunion next year. The election will be over and, if the world hasn’t ended, we can talk about the old times. But until then,

click.

Africa by Toto

Considering it's been "our song" for thirty years, you would think I'd know something about it by now. Like the words. Or the meaning. Or something about the band. But I don't. All I know is one day Shawn came to pick me up and, instead of coming to the door, sat in his car, a skateboard bumper-stickered Toyota Supra, and listened to the stereo blasting this song

Africa

It's gonna take a lot to drag me away from you...

 To this day, no matter how many times I've heard it on the radio, or seen the video or looked up the words or seen Africa on a map, the only thing I can figure out is this -

It's gonna take a lot to drag me away from you...

But I guess that's enough.

Toto, coming to Talking Stick Resort 9/23

Just booked a room.

PunkPlay

Reagan, the 80s, punk rock and adolescence - sounds like something I can relate to.

Stray Cat Theatre with Shana and her new work BFF for a loud and proud peek back to the teenage bedroom of the 80s.

Lipstick Call

Fun crowd tonight (even SHANA showed up!) at Bobby's for some catch-up, some around-the-table toasting, some checking out the new guy and even some jazzy, spinning dancing.

MWW

Mothers Who WWWOW!

When I'm not in a MWW class, it's like part of my brain is shut down, left to wander, waste time, wallow, whine. There will be none of that with this group of off-the-charts smart, creative moms with some wild stories to tell. I can't wait to hear them all...

Movie Madness - Robot and Frank

Loved it. Great circle of life elements.
Robot and Frank

What's NOT To Love????

A future with a strong economy?
A strong defense?
Good jobs?
Good schools?
Health care for all?
Pray to whichever God you want?
Clean air and water?
Renewable energy?
A fair tax plan?
Improved infrastructure?
Women ruling their own lives?
Leaders working together with our best interests at heart?

Not the sexiest song and dance I've heard from the-bar-is-always-set-so-high Obama, but bookended tonight between Bono and Bruce, singing him on and off stage, he said what he needed to say, laying it all out. It wasn't always pretty, filled with only high notes, but it's a song we've got to keep singing right along with him.

Yes We Can!!

Here's a little song...

Truth or Consequences

Seems like political conventions are a lot like blogs, just trot out your spit-shined version of reality, not getting too bogged down by the whole truthiness of it all and hope the masses buy it. Worked for me, as this blue-girl-stuck-in-a-red-state bought it all tonight, eating up every morsel thrown out as they preached to the choir. Can I get an Amen!

The other side worships different rock stars (where was Dubya last week?) and are just as determined to believe the "facts" and graphs and talking points their talking heads spin. Like one of our patients this morning. After I fought for three days to get an MRI covered on her crappy HMO, she kept hissing that "Obamacare" was going to make things worse, saying, "Someone read it to me from the report. It was on page nineteen hundred twenty something. It said right there. He's a Socialist." I calmly tried to explain health care reform to her, then gave up, figuring her truth might not be so bad.

Socialized medicine on page nineteen hundred twenty something, huh? Good health care for everyone? I wouldn't have to argue with patients and insurance companies all day long and be able to just watch the Barack and Bill show in peace?

Sign me up.

If farmers and blacksmiths could win independence from an empire … if immigrants could leave behind everything they knew for a better life on our shores…if women could be dragged to jail for seeking the vote…if a generation could defeat a depression, and define greatness for all time … if a young preacher could lift us to the mountaintop with his righteous dream … and if proud Americans can be who they are and boldly stand at the altar with who they love…then surely, surely we can give everyone in this country a fair chance at that great American Dream.

Three Day Weekend - Staycation

Checked in to Kierland for a little lounging and a little Phoenix Cooks! to celebrate a big-wet-thank-God-you're-over kiss good-bye to Summer '12.

Walked from booth to booth, sampling some amazing dishes, then wine, then more food, then some cooking demonstrations, then a nap, then more food, cooking, day-drinking and napping until we moseyed into the saloon where, after a couple of margaritas, Shawn said my feet looked "dainty"

(there's a first for everything).

Finished off the day listening to a lass with stunning red hair play the bagpipe as the sun went down.