when Victoria's Secret attacks...

okay. raise your hand if you wear an underwire bra.

and now, raise your hand if your mom used to tell you not to. (oh look- there are my sisters. raising their hands. hi guys!) i've never fully understood why we weren't supposed to wear them. but we weren't.

and now, folks, i know why.

i am one of those people who hate to throw away favorite items of clothing. that applies to a hoodie i've had since college, favorite pointy toed flats, favorite jeans, etc. and it also applies to my favorite bras. it's just so hard to find them, so when you find the perfect ones, you just wanna keep it.

well apparently, i need to reexamine my relationship with my underthings. because as i was sitting in a meeting (with my boss) the other day, my bra turned on me.

it attacked. it stabbed, in fact. it nearly drew blood.

at first i thought something was biting me. imagine my reaction to feel a sharp stab somewhere in the vicinity of my left boob. imagine now, that reaction and how it must have appeared to my 40-something male boss. i sat up immediately and grabbed my chest.

and i don't even think he noticed.

when it bit me the second time, i excused myself to the ladies room, where i promptly discovered the wire from my bra had managed to become undone from its sleeve and the sharp pointy end was poking me.

i thought of my options. i figured braless was not an option (maybe at 24. but not at 31). so i performed minor surgery and removed the offending wire. and maybe you couldn't tell, really. but i could tell. so i naturally had to remove the other wire. which is not easy, in a ladies room at work with no utilities. but i managed it.



so now i know. it's not because underwire bras are bad for you. it's because they are, in fact, vicious.

vicious and dangerous. consider yourself warned.

current itunes song: "Hard" by Grey-Eye Glances

I'm scaring myself with my productivity

Who knew getting laid off would be so good for me?!? I have gotten more done in the last two days than I probably have in the entire three months I worked for the company. Of course, very little of it had to do with my actual job.

For example, after covering an event yesterday, instead of trying to find more stories to cover, I blew out of there and headed to the new house... where I painted and cleaned for the next five hours. Five hours! The only thing I do for that long is sleep. But, y'all, I was on fire. I scrubbed the floors ON MY HANDS AND KNEES. I didn't quite get to the level of using a toothbrush to scrub the tile grout, but I thought about it.

What is wrong with me?!? Right after I started cleaning, I cut my finger on a piece of metal. And you know what I did after it started bleeding everywhere? Oh yeah, I wrapped a napkin around it and used my left hand to keep scrubbing! Seriously, I think I have a problem.

Let me pause here for a moment to let KAT's lil sis regain consciousness and get over the shock of me becoming a cleaning machine (I'm sure she well remembers all the Saturdays I spent in our room puttering around instead of cleaning-- only to throw everything in the closet or under the bed when Mom decided enough was enough).

And in case you think that was a one-day thing motivated by the idea of being able to move to a new, bigger house, let me tell you about this morning (KAT's lil sis, you might want to sit down for this...) This morning, the Pretend Husband woke me up sometime in the 6 o'clock hour (the details are a little hazy because I was tired and half-sleep for at least an hour after that...) I took the dogs out as usual, gave them breakfast and then, instead of going back to bed or plopping down in front of the computer to slack off, I WENT GROCERY SHOPPING. (I'm beginning to get concerned I caught some disease or something-- I know rabies causes animals to act uncharacteristically, could I have rabies?)

Yeah, it was before 8 o'clock in the morning and there I was, zipping up and down the aisles of the supermarket, only to come home, cut up the watermelon I bought, make coffee and sit down in front of my computer to do some work at 9 a.m. At this rate, I'll have our entire house packed up and loaded onto a truck by the time the PH gets home from work tonight.

okay. time to crank up the funny.

now that i've depressed you all with the talk of my Gramma, and with KAT's bad news about the layoff, i thought it's only fair that i share a bit of funny.

goodness knows *i* could use some funny right about now.

i don't think i've shared this story on the blog before, although it's likely KAT and SRG have heard it many times.

it's the story of my interview at a huge insurance giant in hartford, which is also the story of how i nearly called off the wedding.

i went in for my interview on october 28th. i was working as a reporter at the time, so i tried to be all sneaky when sneaking off to hartford for the big interview. goodness knows i couldn't show up in the newsroom wearing a suit.

but i was *prepared* - i had my notes, my updated copies of my resume, a solid understanding of what an HMO was -- i was ready.

i mastered the first interview with two women - we got along famously. and then they told me - "we really want you to meet with maureen*." i have no idea who this person is, because by this point, i was now interviewing for another job than the one i came in for. "we think you're over qualified for this job, but this one over here would be great for you..."

they walked me down the hallway, and i looked around at the cube farm, wondering where this mysterious maureen sat. as i turned around the corner, i heard a very bright "Hello!" and i looked. down. at the woman. who was a... um... little person. dressed as an M&M. as in. candy colored shell over chocolate. doesn't melt in your hand, but rather, in your mouth.

was this an elaborate HR test? apparently not. it really was the woman i was interviewing with. she disappeared for a minute to "change" and met me a few minutes later and asked me intensely difficult questions -- ones you do not expect to hear from an M&M.

i did end up getting the job. but the best part is, when i got into the lobby of the large insurance company, i called j, who happened to work on the floor above where i interviewed.

me: "you will never believe who i interviewed with."
j: "wait, was it the midget that dresses up?"
me: "this was a possibility that you didn't care to share with me *prior* to my interview?"
j: (laughing. loudly.)
me: "hello?"
j: (still laughing.)
me: "the wedding is so off."

this isn't getting any easier....

so as you all know, my grams is whittling down to nothing. one of the strongest women i know (the other, most likely, my other grandmother) can no longer get out of bed on her own.

it's hard to watch, but i've tried to visit her as much as i can. i'm not sure that she knows me anymore, but she smiles and nods at me. she also waves her hand at me when i ask her if she's comfortable or if i can get her anything.

a couple of weekends ago, i was hanging out with my cousins (whom i rarely see) at my grandmother's apartment. she lives with my parents, which, growing up, was always fun. she'd baby sit us, check up on us, let us watch tv with her, scold us when we needed it, offer us advice when we didn't want it (but needed it anyway).

i was going through my limited polish vocabulary with her. she smiled and laughed as i struggled over words like "zimny" (cold) and "swinia" (pig). i told her - "you taught me that, grams!"

and in her infinite though perhaps clouded wisdom, she responded with "I taught you everything."




and that, my bloggy friends, is quite true.

current itunes song: "silent house" by the dixie chicks

I'd rather be laid on (or even laid up) than laid off

Life... sometimes it brings you good news, sometimes it brings you bad news and sometimes it likes to have a little fun by rolling all sorts of good and bad news into just one week. Which is what happened last week because, after we FINALLY reached an agreement to sell our house and move into the house I grew up in, I got the bad news. I got laid off.

Yeah, you know my wonderful, awesome, can't-beat-it job I started just four months ago? It would still be wonderful... if it was still mine. My company (the one that extracted a promise from me to stay at least a year!) is trying to save some money and is laying off some reporters in the process.

Actually, not just laying them off. Moving their jobs across the country and giving them the option to go with them. Which (see: aforementioned house purchase), I cannot do. This sucks, of course, and I will probably end up doing something I don't love as much, but that's OK. And, like a true Funny Gal, I managed to get a good story out of the experience.

My boss works on the other side of the country and we have never met in person. I haven't spoken to him too much since I went through a series of phone interviews to get hired. Anyway, he called one night last week to break the news (I already knew there was a possibility because of a conference call earlier that week-- oh yeah, those were some fun days in between the calls!) So he gives me the news and I say I can't move, giving a few reasons why, including the fact that the Pretend Husband is a member of the bar in this state and can't just transfer that to another state.

Boss: "Oh, so your husband has a good job?"
Me: "Um..."
Boss: "Well, your husband's a lawyer, so he must have a good job, right?"
Me: "Uh, well, he doesn't make as much money as all those lawyer jokes assume..."
Boss: "But he has a good job? Can you just tell me he has a good job so I can feel better about this?"

Wait a freakin' minute! You're calling me to tell me that I won't have a job with your company after next month and while I seem to be taking it OK, I'm actually holding back tears... and you want me to help you feel better?!? Dude, I'm getting canned. I could care less about making sure you leave the office tonight with a spring in your step!

So, yeah, I didn't tell him the PH has a good job. Because if there's one time it should be all about you and your feelings, it's when you're getting laid off (and NOT when you're the one doing the firing!)

Oh, and if anyone needs someone with experience in writing, graphic design, radio, homemade wedding invitations, journalism, dog grooming, baking, soccer refereeing and just being a funny gal-- call me!

My 21-year old self would kick my 31-year old self's ass.

this weekend, when i was sifting through a bunch of crap, i found a mixed tape i had made myself for cruising around in my 1988 ford bronco II. okay, it may have perhaps been a tape that i made myself to survive driving to work in Hartford (when i was an intern) on 3 hours sleep.

but. i thought it'd be fun to share with you my 21-year old sj's playlist. (i should mention that some of these are *still* current favorites.)

"Are You Out There" by Dar Williams
"Laid" by James
"Hard" by Grey-eye Glances
"As Cool As I Am" by Dar Williams
"Even Cowgirls Get the Blues" by Emmylou Harris
"Power of Two" by the Indigo Girls
"Feelin' Love" by Paula Cole
"You and Me" by Vonda Shepherd
"Independent Love Song" by Scarlett
"Just Like Heaven" by the Cure
"Letter to Elise" by the Cure
"Nervous Heart" by the Borrowers
"Fade Into You" by Mazzy Star
"Insensitive" by Jann Arden
"You're Aging Well" by Dar Williams and Joan Baez
"Sweet Jane" by the Cowboy Junkies
"Life is Sweet" by Natalie Merchant

and though you've probably seen this before... let's just remember that while my music taste was awesome. i may have made some bad decisions about my look.

i pledge my head to clearer thinking, my heart for greater loyalty..

that's right. i know the four h's. know why? because i was in 4H.

in fact, i grew up participating in the 4H Fair each year. with vegetables, flowers, craft projects and even some wood-working projects. all before i turned 11.

somehow, i think i lost my touch with plants. i say this, because this is the state of my pumpkin patch:



i think my gourds seem a little... um... little.


also, in fact, i used to be great with animals. but now? cute little bunnies turn into...
this.



but i did enjoy an afternoon at the fair with my nephew. i'm not sure if the fence is to keep e out, or the goats in.

Announcing a new arrival...

Hey everyone, Kat's lil sis just gave birth... to her very own blog! SJ and I finally inspired her to get on the blogging bandwagon (and it only took three years of reading ours to do it!)

Kat's lil sis can be found at Little Goochie and since it only has one post (hers) and one comment (mine), she could really use a visit. And, while she's no Funny Gal, I have to say her writing isn't half bad!

Consider this the Braxton-Hicks version of the announcement that Kat's lil sis has given birth-- the real thing is coming soon.

If I make you laugh, will you give me some advice?

OK, I am seeking some advice on something, but I'm not just going to ask you to give me something without giving something in return. So, first, a funny story... and then I'm going to need you to put out. Uh, information, that is (get your mind out of the gutter! Did you really think I'd proposition you on my blog?!? That's weird! I would call you and ask you over the phone, of course...)

Anyway, first the funny story. The building I work in (on the fourth floor) is connected by a tunnel in the basement to a second building. Well, I watched an event that was happening on the second floor of the other building on TV and then realized I needed to get the names of these two old ladies who had testified about something. So, wearing heels and a dress, I ran to the elevator, took it to the basement, ran through the tunnel, caught an elevator to the second floor... and found I had missed both ladies.

Figuring they couldn't have gotten far (one is 91 and uses a cane, for goodness sakes!), I ran around the second floor then climbed up to the third floor to see if they had exited there. A security guard said he hadn't seen them so we stood at the railing watching the floors below. Suddenly, we spotted them on the first floor, so (still in heels), I took off running for an elevator and took it to the first floor. At first, I couldn't find them, but ran into the cafeteria and caught them as they got their lunch.

Out of breath and with very sore feet, I then went back to the third floor because I figured the security guard would wonder how this little drama turned out. And, for the record, even he commented on how fast those two moved for being little old ladies!

And now, your turn... I have A TON of cleaning ahead of me at the house we're moving into. Dust and dirt and black dust from many years of using a coal stove kind of cleaning. And, if you ask KAT's lil sis, she will gladly tell you that I am more than little challenged in the cleaning department (although, I have gotten better over the weeks of having to clean almost every day for open houses and showings). Anyway, any recommendations you have for awesome cleaning products (such as ones that work instantly without me having to scrub or actually do any work...) are much appreciated. I especially need something that will clean up the mineral deposits (I think? It's a colorful stain in the shower so perhaps it's mineral deposits?) in the bathroom. Offering to fly in and help me clean will also score you a lot of points (Molly, I know you're planning on going to England for Christmas, but this would be a lot cheaper and almost as much fun, wouldn't you say?!?)

i hate hiring.

i really hate the interview process, as i've mentioned, but i have to say that during this time, i've gotten some doozies.

me interviewing very intense young man:
me: "well, we do have a fairly young company."
him: "like young how? like. you're all... under 30 young?"
me: "no, i mean, our company was founded in 1998."
him: "oh. because you're pretty young. i mean. you seem young. well. i mean. pretty and young."
me: "uh...." "must be all of those anti-aging cosmetics.... ha ha ha.... so tell me about your job at ..."

this guy has also called me about five times and left no message. which is scary, because i think he really wanted to talk to me personally. and not my voicemail. which. is. creepy.

i also spent some time interviewing a candidate who *would not* look me in the eye. He was staring about 4 inches to the right of my head. Which was so disturbing. I mean really. How would you like it?



current itunes song: "circles" by natalie walker

Looking for the "reboot" button for my brain!

Admittedly, my mind has been on other things the last few days, but I didn't realize it had completely left my body! For example, yesterday I arrived at a press conference and introduced myself to the press person. She offered to walk me into the building, but before we reached the door, she stopped to dig some papers out of a folder for me. As she handed them to me, rather than saying "thank you" like a normal person, I said pretty loudly, "Hi!" Without missing a beat, she responded, "Hi." I'm still not sure if she was distracted and automatically answered or if she just thought I was crazy and was going along with it.



Then, today, I set up a three-way call between myself, the Pretend Husband and our brother-in-law (whoo! eighth-grade Total Phone!) As we were all finishing our conversation, I asked the bro-in-law to put my sister on and then, realizing the PH was about to hang up, said, "Bye hon." Well, the PH had already hung up, so the bro-in-law thought I was speaking to him. He said goodbye politely, but a minute later asked Kat's lil sis to ask me if I had called him "hon" on purpose.



Yeah, this house sale had better go through quick before I make a fool of myself in front of a U.S. senator or something!

i'm obsessed with our new blog.

it's true. i fully admit it.

mostly, that map. that map is fascinating to me.

in fact, i'd like to extend a warm welcome to our visitor from Islamabad who came to us courtesy of the entry entitled: "No, I don't have the clap."

that *must* have been KAT's entry. i really think i would have remembered writing something so... well. so like so many of our entries. who am i kidding.

also, a shout out to our visitor from austria (i love schnitzel. just sayin') and the UK and all *over* the us. all the way up in seattle and all the way down in miami.

hi! thank you for stopping! we hope our odd little lives entertain you!

in an effort to appeal to our outside of connecticut audience, i'm going to try and learn little facts about each of your locations and share my new knowledge. today, it's going to be a little fact about:

red deer, alberta in canada.
the good folks in red deer are sponsoring a rain barrel decorating contest. i find this fascinating, really. because our rain barrels were giant blue plastic tubs that my grandmother used for years to water her garden with, and we kept those ugly things hidden behind the barn. it's nice to know that the folks of red deer have a nice little rain barrel tradition going on.

and yes, i have managed to figure out how the blogroll works, and as we continue to visit you out there, we'll continue to add to it. stay tuned! we love meeting new people... and we love that our "regulars"... like those from say, large insurance companies in hartford that lurk out there (see - i can *see* you now) and don't leave us comments... love our new look.

we hope that you visit our friends out there in outer blogospace and show them some linky love.

peace out, girl scout.

current itunes song: "kind and generous" by natalie merchant

Movin' and groovin'

Hey there. I just got back into town from our weekend away, pulled up to the front door of Funny Gals and... whoa! A whole new look for our corner of the neighborhood. How awesome is that?!? SJ and I can take no credit for the improvements, of course. We have our gal Molly with help from Burg to thank for the new look (she was even the impetus for it-- she emailed us to tell us we are sooooo 2007 and it's time to let go of last year's look for something new). And seeing as how it took no more work for us than an email back saying, "Go for it!" SJ and I went along with the idea.

So we've moved into these new digs-- some of which may look familiar, but some of which is completely new (I'm told we have a "blog roll" down in the bottom right and it's supposed to keep track of the blogs we read and how often they're updated, so that sounds fun...)

Speaking of new digs, the Pretend Husband and I are about to get some too. We sold our house. (That doesn't quite reach the level of excitement I'm feeling. It's more like, HOLY.CRAP!WE.FREAKIN.SOLD.OUR.HOUSE!) So, we're moving (into the house I grew up in) and we're demolishing and we're repainting and restoring hardwood floors and clearing out trees and... we should be done by the time our youngest child is in high school. Yeah, it's going to be a lot of work. And the next couple of weeks are going to be tough as we try to get everything done at once.

But, you know what? I can't wait.

When Home Depot and Williams-Sonoma collide...

so i took yet another break from this weekend where i'm supposed to be doing non-stop work, and went to see my parents with some cupcakes (as pictured previously). they came out fantastic, except that i haven't mastered the filling part.

i was lamenting this to my parents. i told them i thought my problem was that i needed to use the tip with the bigger opening.

my dad's reaction was: i needed power tools.

to be exact, a pneumatic caulking gun.

"dad, my pastry filler is fine, it's just that the hole was too small for the kind of pressure i needed... really."

but a minute or two later, Dad comes in with an air-compressor enabled caulking gun. and mom was digging out a variety of pastry tips. and by variety, i mean, she had everything from a set of wilton metal tips, to the plastic tips from her pampered chef decorator to a host of plastic tips that i've never seen before.

this, folks, was a mission. i'm just sorry i didn't have my digital camera.

a few minutes later, we were experimenting with some canned frosting (and when we determined there wasn't enough to really test our caulk-gun-turned-pastry-tool, we added sour cream.) we added a plastic bag, and then we added some tips. and then we took a plate outside to the garage. and hooked our baking tool up to an air compressor.

because that's how we roll.

so while i held out the plate, my dad tried his hand with the tool and a ruffling tip. dad did a pretty good job making some nice ribbons. (i should mention that this whole time, j was hiding behind me, sure that someone was getting coated with sour cream frosting.)

so we'll see how this goes. my plan is to go hang out with my dad some night this week with some cupcakes and some filling.

and maybe some safety goggles.

current itunes song: "you're aging well" by dar williams

martinis are to molly what cupcakes are to sj....

i realized that today as i dropped um.... some money.... more than 50 and less than 100.... at Williams-Sonoma on a new cupcake tin and a new decorator. and a scoop to make them uniform in size for easier baking time.

but anywhoodle..... my entry for molly's contest is to name her new martini:

"Goose a Pear"

Check out the fantastic martini recipes at Molly and Bunny's blog - the fabulous Rockapoodle Martini Co. And then check out the lovely Swank Martini Company.

First you need the recipe, then you need the glasses. So be sure to visit both!

and in the meantime, this is what i made tonight. i think it'd go nicely with a martini...

the peeps have spoken...

"A little white trash-ish, but who cares as long as it doesn't poke the kid's eye out while it's being born."

This wins out with four votes. But take heart, lil sis, because there were two votes that thought this was "hott" with two t's.

i promise i'll post more soon, including an entry for molly the fantastic. but i will be working from here until eternity. or at least for the next few hours.

and still trying to hire. and no, that's not going well, as my favorite candidate is in michigan, and reminds me eerily of someone else i know. and i'm afraid if i hire him, he's merely going to quit me for my hometown rinky-dink cable network.

I promised KAT's lil sis I wouldn't talk about this on the blog...

...but I lied (I probably would have kept my promise except she let me take a photo, so OF COURSE I have to talk about it-- it would be weird to have just the photo, wouldn't it?)

A few months ago, amid the talk of small cervixes and all that jazz, KAT's lil sis mentioned that she had yet to take out her belly button piercing. KAT made fun of her for hours and came up with such witty retorts as, "Do you work at Wal-Mart?"

KAT's lil sis thinks belly button piercings are cool. KAT thinks lil sis is crazy and adds this to the list of reasons KAT will always be the favorite child. But we'll let the world decide who's right. First, the evidence...

And now, go vote!

go ahead. google me. i know all about you.

so i'm hiring for a job at my company.

and i know i remain fairly anonymous on the blogosphere. i mean, a private detective could easily figure out more details about me. and any stalker worth his salt, i suppose. but really, i'm generally a little quiet about it. i mean. you know i live in connecticut. and if you're my sister, or KAT's sister, you may know a little more. but really. i'm pretty under the radar. which is why it's always fascinating to me when people google-stalk me.

i'm hiring for a job for my company and i *hate* hiring. i can't begin to tell you how much i hate the process. i wish the perfect person would just waltz in and start and already know the job. i hate the entire process of assimilation. but i can tell that as i begin to go through the resumes, and respond to a few, *i'm* being google-stalked. how do i know? because of this nifty little site where i've posted my professional profile -- (granted i haven't updated it lately, but it's out there and googlerific) -- that tells me (well, emails me. unless i once again accidentally hit command + f5 on my macbook.) when someone has viewed my profile.

i haven't upgraded to the subscription that tells me who, exactly, is looking at me, but it's still pretty cool. i've had four or five views since last night, and an odd spike two weeks ago, and another one about a month ago.

but anywho- i completely confess to googling prospective candidates. it's interesting to see who has their drunken party pictures posted on myspace.com with quotes on there that say stuff like "i f@#%@ hate my job! my boss is a 2#@^#$^@" -- side note: i don't usually hire them.

however, if they have something i find really funny on their facebook status, etc. i may indeed bring them right in. because i like funny. i can appreciate funny. in fact, i showed great restraint by not posting a questionnaire to my job that asked: what is your name? what is your quest? and what is the airspeed velocity of an unladened swallow?

but really, you have to use your judgement. *hide* your blog and profile -- or at least don't use your real name, people.

i already found one prospective person on Facebook (she seems normal! yay!), and found another the old fashioned way -- by asking a friend who just happened to have been this dude's boss at one point.

ah, networking. it's a blessing and a bitch. depending on who you've screwed over in the past.

A lot like SJ's first kiss post... but A LOT less cool

SJ's post about her first kiss got me thinking about mine because they are somewhat similar. But it's what made them different that is the funniest part.

I was 14 and headed into eighth grade... and I was a big dork. Braces, those curled-up bangs, button-down shirts worn over jeans that were pegged at the bottom, white Keds, the whole nine yards. My family has a cottage and twice a summer, the beach association would hold a block dance, where they would have a bonfire and hire a DJ to play music. My family always went and I usually brought along a few friends.

At this particular one, I was dancing in a circle with a few friends, when this older guy (which would later become the theme of my dating life, by the way) asked me to dance. He was in high school so it was all a little scandalous. He hung out with us for the rest of the night, then walked me back to the cottage and kissed me in the backyard. (And, like SJ knows exactly what song was playing, I remember the gum he was chewing... and anytime I smell that brand, I'm instantly brought back to my first kiss).

OK, here's where SJ's story is cool and mine is not. While her first-kiss guy went on to participate in the Olympic trials, mine went off to college... and became a cheerleader.

ah, young love. and olympic swimmers.

i am in love
... with the Men's US Olympic swim team.

it brings me back to my first *real* kiss (i was 16 and a camp counselor). his name was jordan, and he was my fellow counselor for my tribe (okay, the tribe thing is hard to describe, but essentially, this was 4H camp and they split the entire camp - ages 8 to 15 - into co-ed tribes of around 30 or so campers).

we had our first kiss at the friday night dance. on the dance floor. afterwards, i escaped with my friend Lena to discuss the details. the song "one" by U2 was playing and we were dancing off in a corner somewhere.

he was super cute, and also, a fantastic swimmer. he went to like the junior olympic trials or some such.

excuse me for a minute while i reminisce....

(epilogue: he went on to attend Princeton - early decision - and then became a fulbright scholar studying the environment or something equally noble and fantastic.)

Issues...

Two nights ago, laying in bed and about to fall asleep, I punched the Pretend Husband in the face (how's that for an opening line?). I didn't mean to and I felt pretty bad about it and of course, I apologized.

Last night, while again about to fall asleep, I tried to reach for the PH's hand... and slapped him in the head.

This is all accidental of course, but he has been kind of annoying lately in that very normal way that husbands and wives sometimes get on each other's nerves. I'm wondering if all this battering is my subconscious dealing with my annoyance. And, if so, perhaps the PH should sleep in the guest room tonight.

not so funny.

sorry. this isn't a funny post, mostly because i don't have a whole lot of funny going on these days. in fact, i must warn you that the humor you may find in this post is the gruesome kind of humor that some people find offensive.

tomorrow morning i'll be attending a memorial service for my aunt who recently passed away (Tuesday). i have really mixed feelings about this whole thing -- mostly because i did not have a close relationship with her for the past few years. i should have mended things before she died, but i didn't. i'm not sure how i feel about it either.

but she is my second aunt (and my mom's second sister) to die from cancer in three years. to which i say: leave my family the f^#k alone, cancer.

however, because i am one of those people that deals really badly with death, i have been trying my hardest to think of other things. funnier things, really.

it started at work today when i was trying to leave early to get to my mom's house in order to prep for the service. i spoke with a cousin last night who told me that they were looking to us to bring baked goods to the after service reception.

which led me to think: what kind of cupcakes do you serve at a funeral?

one of my good friends told me "black. just burn them. it'll be fine." (when i said, "but my aunt is going to be cremated" he responded with: "even more fitting.")

another suggested: "funfetti, naturally."

after a host of inappropriate jokes with my colleagues, at one point, for the first time in WEEKS, i was laughing so hard i cried. i have done my share of crying for the past month for a variety of reasons, so to cry from laughing was rather therapeutic.

and goodness knows i could use some therapy.

current itunes song: "the man that got away" by judy garland

because molly asked for it...

although the contest has long since closed (congratulations to the lovely winners!), I felt it was my duty to Molly to still describe my ideal martini party. after all, she did call me lazy. and really, i just didn't think it fair that KAT and i have *two* entries.

while i do love the city and the excitement and energy it has, my martini party will actually be at my beach-side mansion. i mean, really, if we're going to fantasize, we may as well go all out, right?

so let's say we're in newport, island. and let's say it's next weekend, so we happen to coincide with the jazz festival and perhaps take our mansion's sailboat over to fort adams state park and partake in some chris botti, etc. loveliness. and since we happen to be with george clooney, colin firth, pierce brosnan -- and -- call me crazy but I LOVE HIM - kevin smith, we have no troubles getting first class viewing. and we will invite all of the lovely musicians back to our mansion for a late night jam session.

there will be classic martinis for Pierce, flirtinis for George and Molly (because that so describes their horrible behavior), and a nice smooth pomegranate martini for me and colin. and i know that SRG is fuming right now that i stole her man, so fine. i'm willing to share colin with you, but me and Pierce may disappear for a while while we dance on the rolling green lawn to some lovely jazz -- but i would have made sure his martini has olives and not onions for practical snogging reasons (also for molly - a little cross the pond slang) or we'll all stay right there, sipping our martinis while kevin smith entertains the bejeesus out of everyone with his hilarious antics but filthy language.

and of course because this is my fantasy martini party, it happens to be that we all wake up the next morning and miraculously not one of us has a hang over.

the end.

this week in pictures

i did a lot of fun stuff this week, i admit. i took a day to escape to the beach... i ventured through litchfield county, i went for martinis with KAT to celebrate Molly's contest and associated winners (of course), and went out with SRG and friends...

so i thought i'd share...


i took this thursday at Harkness Memorial State Park in Waterford. It's one of my favorite spots to go when I want to get away. It's this lovely mansion with rolling green lawns and a beautiful garden and it rolls down a small, rocky beach.


this was in riverton, along the Farmington river.

it's just lovely.

but of course, i wasn't only a nature lover this week. i mean, come on now. we had to toast our bloggy friends.



i'm a week bit tired today, i admit, due to a rather late-ish night out with SRG. but we had a good ol' time...

SRG and MP...


me and KC.

but really what i want to share most. is this pic:


can anyone tell me what the heck it is?

Dreaming of a Las Vegas martini party

So, our friend Molly is having a contest where everyone is asked to imagine a wonderful martini party and describe it for the chance to win fabulous martini prizes from Martini Art. At first I was like, "Oh my, no. This is not a contest for me because I am so demure and would never imbibe alcoholic beverages." But then I woke up and thought, "Hells to the yeah, I have some partying to do!" And this is how my dream martini party would go down.

First of all, it's a girls night and everyone who reads Funny Gals would be expected to be at the airport after having arranged for husbands, children and pets to be on their own for at least a weekend (or until Thursday if it goes especially well). We are loading onto a private jet (hey, in my fantasies, I can afford private jets, OK?) and flying to Las Vegas. While I could have picked some island someplace, I'm choosing LV because it's close enough to have the biggest martini fan I know join us (and no, I'm not kissing up to Molly for contest purposes, but she has to be there because she knows so many amazing martini recipes and because we have been promising practically since we met her that we'd be getting together to sip martinis so how could I leave her out?!?)

We would arrive at the rooftop deck I had arranged for and start partaking in every martini flavor you can imagine-- chocolate (of course), pomegranate, blueberry, key lime pie, strawberry cheesecake (I actually made that one up, but how good does that sound?!?). There would be shirtless bartenders and waiters (get your mind out of the gutter-- they're all male!) who would have their own specialty martini recipes or would lead you over to a bar filled with different flavors to let you mix your own. A little of this, a little of that... voila! a watermelon martini with a scoop of lemon sherbet. Or a chocolate martini with marshmallows and Graham cracker crumbs.

As for the end of the night, I'll leave that to your imagination... for you single gals, I wish you a hot waiter to take home; for you married ones, have another martini!; and for you moms, I wish you a full night of sleep before you head home to the little ones.

And, Molly, I want to thank you for having this contest because even if I don't win, describing my perfect martini party has put me in the mood for a girls night... or at least a chocolate martini when I get home from work tonight!