Monthly Archive for March, 2010

Time makes you bolder…I’m getting older, too.

Published on March 31, 2010 in Uncategorized. 0 Comments

My birthday is TECHNICALLY March 9.  But, I start celebrating around 12:01 a.m. on March 1.  This continues until, roughly, 11:59 on March 16.  I mean, I don’t want to steal St. Patty’s day’s thunder – that would be tacky.

This year, it was a milestone birthday so my family gathered for a small party on the Saturday before my birthday.  We went to my favorite mexican food place, went to my mom and dad’s for cake and ice cream (and presents!).  Before the party, my mom and husband were decorating with party favors, etc.  I remember watching my mom prepare for my birthday parties.  We always had THE BEST birthday parties – each one with a theme, of course.  It was incredible watching my husband help my mom with this birthday.  My husband ran errands and came back with Birthday Surprise #1:

IT’S A DAVE MATTHEWS BAND THEMED CAKE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  Complete with Firedancer and lyrics.

I had shown my husband a picture of a Dave cake probably 5 years ago and told him “when I’m 30, I want this”.  He remembered and changed the color scheme to match.  He’s awesome and that cake made turning 30 a little sweeter.  Get it?  Cuz it’s a CAKE and CAKE is sweet???  See what I did there?

It was nice to have the family all together and was just a great start to a wonderful birthday week.

On my actual birthday, we went to dinner and watched a movie and had a nice night in.  I heard from a lot of friends through email, facebook, phone, text, etc.  In fact, my dear friend Meghan texted me several times that day.  That made me feel really special.  I know when my friends have birthdays, they are usually on my mind the entire day.  It never dawned on me that might be true with other people too.  But that’s what great about Meghan – she says what she feels and means what she says.  She texted me the last time that night with: “been thinking about you all day.  hope your day was great”.  It’s simple and it might not seem like a lot, but to me it meant SO MUCH.  It still makes me teary thinking about it and realizing what a great friend I have in her.

It was nice to have it low key because on Thursday, we were headed to VEGAS!  My husband and I were going up on Thursday and some friends/family were meeting us there on Friday evening and spending the weekend with us.  There were a total of 8 of us: the painter’s daughter, the painters-son-in-law (my husband), the painter’s son (my brother), the painter’s daughter-in-law (my sister-in-law), the painter’s brother in law (my uncle) and his wife (my aunt), and a great friend I went to law school with and her husband (they were also in our wedding).  It started as an impromptu trip because my uncle was going to be there on business (editor’s note:  I know it sounds weird to say I’m going somewhere with my uncle, but I assure you, my uncle is NOT like yours.  Mine is pretty much awesome.  We’ve gone on a few vacays together and I’m sure we’ll go on several more – we just get along and he’s not that much older than us…in mental age, that is :) .  This turned into me telling a few other people and them wanting to go too.  I found some decently priced rooms at Paris hotel and soon enough we had a party.

Of course, I had to figure out a way to thank everyone for driving ALL that way and spending ALL that money to celebrate my Second 29th Birthday.  So, I decided I would make “welcome baskets”.  Ya know, fill ‘em with stuff they’ll need while they’re in Vegas and some other what-nots.  I decided to make it 80’s vegas themed!  I think it’s safe to say I went a little berserk.  The contents of my basket included: silly putty, 80’s sunglasses, rubiks cubes, pixie sticks, pop rocks, fun dip, jolly ranchers, babe ruth (from Goonies, of course), atomic fireballs, fishnet fingerless gloves, neon colored clip in hair, 80’s CD (complete with custom-made label), Hangover Soundtrack, custom made water, wine and champagne (with custom made labels), custom made pink poker chips, and more that I’m forgetting.  And I found these huge playing cards to act as a backdrop for the basket!  Lucky for you, I took copious amounts of pictures:

Why I felt compelled to go to law school when I could have just opened my own “make baskets for rich people” store is beyond me.  I mean, I did this in my jam-jams, no suit required.  And you know what cost more than all the contents for this basket?  Law school.

So my husband and I got into Vegas early in the evening on Thursday.  We went to one of my FAVORITE restaurants for dinner, Mon Ami Gabi.  We went there after we got engaged in Vegas and it has a special place in our hearts.  And stomachs.  And it’s right across the way from the Bellagio Water Show, which is where we actually got engaged.

Isn’t he handsome?

Friday we slept in and had the greatest agenda EVER:  we were planning on going to…*dramatic pause*…Madam Tussaud’s Wax Museum.  Now, I don’t know how you feel about wax museums but, basically, I think they are the GREATEST THING EVER IN THE ENTIRE UNIVERSE.  And I’m including the Cheesecake Factory into that.  I was so excited and BEGGED my husband to take me.  Being my birthday, he couldn’t really say no – he couldn’t say no with his mouth, but trust me, his eyes said it.  His eyes were pleading with me.  I chose to ignore it.  Despite his please, the museum ended up being where the World’s Greatest Pictures were taken.  Including, but not limited to:

Babe, are you excited for the wax museum?

Yeah, who is excited for wax museum NOW buddy???!

Please note:  his hand up her shirt

I need to know where to send that last one in order to be given my “Greatest Picture in the History of the World” grand prize.

Then, our friends and family strolled in and we met them for dinner.  The next day, we walked through Bellagio:

Then, we walked through the Aria hotel – GORGEOUS.  Fantastic Fountains and high-end stores, what more could a girl ask for.   While we were there, my husband took me inside Tiffany’s and got me ANOTHER birthday surprise:

We went out to dinner and then went to a dueling piano bar and had the BEST time:

All in all, it was just the PERFECT birthday.  I can’t begin to express how much I appreciate that they were there celebrating with me.  I know it was far and I know it was expensive and I’m just so grateful that I have these people in my life.  I had an absolute BLAST.

Thank you, friends for giving me these memories.  And for celebrating with me.

I don’t know about you guys, but I’m ready for Leanne’s Third Annual 29th Birthday.

Good-bye, March 2010 (or, “The Birthday Month”)

Published on March 31, 2010 in Uncategorized. 0 Comments

Today is the last day of March, my birthday month.  I’d be lying if I said any minute of the first two weeks of March were reserved for anything other than birthday celebration.  This birthday was a big one.  If you look at this post from last year, it says I celebrated my 29th Birthday.  So, if you do the math correctly (and if you’re a Carter, you just shouldn’t even try this), that means…yes…I celebrated my Second 29th Birthday.

30.

I’m a 30 year old woman.

That seems impossible.  After all, that’s how old my mom is.  Or at least, that’s how old I think of her as being.  But my mom hasn’t been 30 for…god..25 years.  Even saying that now seems crazy.  I can’t be this age.  My mom certainly can’t be that much older than “this age”.

I just don’t know where the time went.  I know that yesterday I was 22, and then today I woke up and I am 30.  I remember turning 21 and telling my friend Ashley that it was all down-hill and pretty soon, before we know it, we’re gonna be 30.  I remember her saying, CALM DOWN WE ARE NO WHERE NEAR 30.  It was a joke that I was ALREADY worrying about 30.  But, honestly, I was half correct…we were 30 before we knew it.  It went by in a flash, that’s for sure.

I’ve dreaded this moment for 10 years.  And I’m not sure why.  Now that I’m here, at 30, I keep thinking, “What was all the fuss about?”  Sure, the life that I imagined I’d have as a 30 year old isn’t exactly the way my life is now.  I thought I’d be an attorney, wearing expensive suits, living in a high rise apartment in New York.  I thought I’d be the “go-to” girl.  I thought I’d be indispensable and important.

What I turned out to be is an attorney.  Wearing suits that cost a respectable amount that doesn’t make your jaw drop.  I live in a gorgeous house NO where near New York.  But what fills that house is better than I ever thought.  I have a great husband and an adorable little dog.  What I didn’t even think to have in my “perfect future world” is, turns out, what I can’t live without now.    Isn’t that how it always goes?

You can’t always get what you want and if you try sometime you find you get what you need.

I wanted to be the “go-to” girl that solves all the hard problems.  My 20 year old self was talking about being a good lawyer, a problem solver.  Now, I am a “go-to” girl – just a different type.  I’m a friend.  I’m there for my friends when they need me.  When they have a problem. When they need a laugh.  When they need a cry.  I pride myself on the fact that I am there for my friends, without judgment and without criticism.  And, even better, they know they are important to me.  And that – that makes me important and indispensable.  This month more than ever, my friends didn’t only make me believe that, they made me feel it.

So, my younger self was on the right track and knew what I’d be but, as is usually the case with younger people, my focus was off.  That’s what’s great about being older, being 30.  You start to realize what is really worth your time, and what is really important in this life.

I was talking to my mom about aging before my birthday.  A few weeks prior to the big 3-0, I was getting nervous about it.  She said, “Honey, you spent your 20’s in school.  The 30’s are going to be great for you because you FINALLY get to reap the benefits of all that hard work.  THIS is the best time of your life!” Is it all mothers that say the EXACT right thing at the EXACT right moment, or just my amazing mom??  Even if, I think my mom has a special knack for it above and beyond the normal call of mom-duty (and this is one of the reasons SHE is important and indispensable).

After she said that, I realized that this could potentially be the best time of my life.  And here I was thinking it was wasted on my 20s!  I have the potential to make my 30s AWESOME!!  Who knew it was up to me?!?!?  What a relief!

I woke up on my 30th birthday and thought, “Well, I don’t feel like a crotchety ol’ bitch”.  So, I got up and went to the mirror to see how I looked (because, how else are you supposed to know how you feel about yourself if you don’t base it solely on your looks??).  I won’t lie.  I saw wrinkles.  And I kinda freaked the eff out for about 30 seconds.  I was mentally making my botox appointment when a sudden sense of calm came across my face and I smiled.  And I saw my wrinkles around my mouth.  From a life full of smiles.

I realized that my wrinkles, as pre-mature as they are now, are a map of my life.

My laugh lines around my mouth:  those are when I met my best friend Ashley in college and we laughed for, what felt like 4 straight years.  In fact, I’m not sure we’ve ever stopped laughing.  She’s the friend that you can not see for a year and meet for coffee and pick up right where you left off.  If you ask me who one of my best friends is the day I die, I will tell you “Ashley” whether I’ve seen her in the last day, year or decade.  She, along with my brother, is my “person” (er, people).

And there are so many other people responsible for those laugh lines:  my brother, my husband, Meghan, Stephanie, Adam, Christine, Tiffany, John, Erin, Charles, Steve, Jeremy, Cosmo…and more.

The crow’s feet/bags around my eyes:  those are from trying to smile when I felt like I couldn’t.  My friends trying to make me smile when I could only muster up a grin with my eyes.  They are from tears shed, whether they were warranted or whether they were over something silly.  They’re from staying up late the last 10 years trying to get through school.  From test after test after test.  From reading more words than I ever thought possible.

The wrinkles on my nose in between my eyes and on my forehead:  Those..oh those…they were ALL from the bar exam.  From worrying 3 years about that silly test.  From staying in that hotel room and studying for those last few precious minutes.  From waiting for results for four.long.months.  And from finally passing and worrying about finding a job.

And my husband.  Oh, my husband.  He is responsible for the laugh lines, the frown lines, and the crows feet – in the best way imaginable.  And that is the best possible life.  A husband who gives you all of those moments, all of those things.  Life isn’t meant to be all wine and roses, even though we have those times too.  There are good times (see: laugh lines) and bad times (see: frown lines), and yet still, baby, I wouldn’t have wished it any other way.  You’re not just my “person” – you’re me.  You’re part of me.  When I fail, you feel it.  And when I succeed, you feel it too.  You want me as happy as you’d want yourself and you want for me the best possible scenarios so I don’t feel any disappointment or sadness.  In summary, we’re a wolfpack of one.

And I’m sure that through my life, my “map” will increase and only grow more pronounced, more obvious.  And I’m okay with that (disclaimer: I will be using EVERY POSSIBLE product, over the counter and otherwise, to thwart those nasty wrinkles from spreading – much like a crack in your windshield).  And I feel compelled to tell everyone how I would’ve had many more frown lines if it weren’t for the fact that I had the World’s Greatest Parents.  I didn’t have to worry about a thing until I was a teenager, and even then it was only what to wear or hoping I could have a slumber party.  My parents took the brunt of my worries, and they still try to.  They, as good parents do, sacrificed themselves so I’d have one less point on my “map” and so I’d have opportunities they didn’t.  I was never told I couldn’t do something because I was a girl or I was from a small town or because we didn’t have the money or because it’s too hard.  They let me try – which is the greatest thing a parent could do.  They let me go do my thing even though it goes against every instinct a parent has – after all, they might be watching their child fail.

I wonder what I’ll see in 10 years when I look in the mirror.  20? Another 30?  I’m not sure, but I am looking forward to where I’m headed, I’m proud of where I’m at, and grateful for where I’ve been.

And honestly, what more could a birthday girl ask for?

Note:  A post detailing the celebration(s) is coming up next.  Patience…you’ll learn it when you’re older…

My First-born

Published on March 31, 2010 in Uncategorized. 0 Comments

Exactly six years ago today, I met Cosmo the Dog.

I lived with my brother at the time and I went to someplace in West Covina and looked at a bunch of different puppies.  Cosmo was the first one I saw and the first one to jump into my arms and struggle to get ahead of all the other puppies.  He WANTED to see me.  He NEEDED me.  And I fell in love immediately.  He had such spunk.  Such personality.

Now, remember, I was a very young barely 24 year old (I had just had a birthday).  I didn’t know about “puppy-mills” or shelters.  I mean, I just thought the shelters kept all the puppies — I never really knew they were “put down”.  Had I known, I wouldn’t have “bought” Cosmo, but found a shelter and saved a pup.  But I still remember finding an ad in the Pennysaver, driving to a woman whose name was Denise Kiss.  My mom’s name is Dennise so I remember it easily.  She didn’t want to accept a check because she was afraid it would bounce since she didn’t know me (I mean, even if she did know me — I was 24 and had bounced a few checks).  Once she saw how much I loved Cosmo and how much the puppy loved me back, she said she’d accept a check no problem.

I drove home with him on my arm the entire time.  He couldn’t have weighed any where near a pound.

I walked into the house with him and my brother was on the couch, taking a nap.  I placed Cosmo on his chest and he woke up and said, “What is that?  Is that a dog?”  Actually, looking back on it, I’m not even sure if I ever asked him if he was okay with me getting a dog.  Heheheh…*drawing circle in sand with toe*…sorry ’bout that, Brother.

I think they loved each other immediately too.  We went to the pet store and got him food and toys and he was so awesome.  Still is awesome.  Even if it did take me about 3 years to potty-train him.

About 10 days after I got Cosmo, he got incredibly sick.  I mean, seizures-barfing-whining-taking-him-to-the-puppy-ER-in-the-middle-of-the-night sick.  We almost lost him and my brother got up in the middle of the night with me and took care of him and knew what to do and knew where to go.  I just shut down, but my brother really put the plan in action to save his little life.  I think that is the night I knew he could make a fantastic doctor.  I know it’s the night I decided I could trust him with just about anything.

The doctors first thought he was hypo-glycemic (which is hilarious because my mom is hypoglycemic and then it would “run in the family”), then found that he had a parasite running around his little body.  He weighed in at .6 lbs when he was sick.  POINT six, people.  He was a sick little boy — which is, I’m sure, the reason I’ve babied him his entire life.  And that’s probably why he is on the “bratty” side.  I think having a pet is good practice before having a child. Hopefully, I’ve learned from my mistakes.  And Cosmo doesn’t have to grow up to be a productive member of society so I don’t really care how bratty he is. He’s my boy.

And I couldn’t love him more.


That’s Not Gonna Be Good For Business

Published on March 24, 2010 in Uncategorized. 0 Comments

While waiting to find The World’s Most Perfect Job and for “my ship to come in” (as my grandma would say), I’ve been doing some contract work for a local attorney. I received my paycheck in the mail today and I wanted to send a “thank you” email to the billing rep for getting it to me. Here’s what the email ALMOST said to the FEMALE in charge of billing (thank god for proof reading).

I received your check in the mail today. Thanks again for getting it to me so promptly – I know you’re incredibly busty – I really appreciate it!

Did I mention that the person responsible for billing is the head honcho attorney’s WIFE?!?

Awkward.

I was trying to thank her for sending my check when I know she is so BUSY.  I think it says something about me that my fingers automatically type “busty” instead of “busy”.  Thank God I proof read!  Honestly, I would have DIED.  It reminds me of the time I worked at another law office as a secretary (*ahem* administrative assistant) and we got a resume in and it said that she had “excellent proff reading skills”.  No lie.  I almost called her in for an interview to be able to tell her about the typo.

I laughed for a good 30 minutes at my ALMOST faux pas.  Or shall I say “faux paw”.

You Said A Mouthful There, Sister.

Published on March 24, 2010 in Uncategorized. 0 Comments

As previously noted on this world-renowned website, I happen to like really bad t.v.  I mean, I like good t.v. too, I just also like all the “guilty pleasures” that a lot of the cool kids make fun of other people watching.  Oh and by the way, guess what, I’m not the only one — these shows are popular because they get good ratings!  I’m the only one brave enough to admit that I sometimes like to watch EVERY SINGLE episode of EVERY SINGLE Real Housewives on Bravo.  My favorite is Orange County, although Atlanta and NY are close behind it.  And I’ve actually never seen an episode of New Jersey – I must’ve been bar studying or something when it was on the air.  There is no other reason that would keep me from watching it, so that is the only one that makes sense.

One of the greatest things ever said in the history of the world was by NeNe on RH of Atlanta.  Here’s a clip:

Hilarious.

I am a 10, I could probably go down to a size 8. but I don’t FEEL LIKE it.  Guess why!  Because I’m f—ing hon-gry!”

Door Stopper = Treat Button

Published on March 22, 2010 in Uncategorized. 0 Comments

Cosmo the Dogg is, quite possibly, the cutest dog in the world.  He is roughly 6-7 lbs and 5 lbs of that is pure personality.

When we lived at our apartment, we kept Cosmo’s treats in the bottom drawer of the kitchen.  When he wanted one, he would go to the drawer and scratch the handle.  When we moved into the house, we thought he would never be able to figure out where we kept his treats because there were so many drawers and cabinets.  Boy were we wrong.

We put the treats in the pantry in the kitchen.  Since the pantry has a door, there is a door stopper at the bottom of the baseboard.  You know the ones:  they look like this.

One day, Cosmo started hitting the door stopper so it made this noise:  ”doooooiiiiiiiiinnnngg boooooinnnng”.  He would do it over and over and over until we finally got up and got him a treat.  Pupperonis are his favorite – so if you’re reading this CEO of Pupperoni, I could really use some free product because this dog basically eats these in lieu of dog food.  I know it’s a bad habit for the dog, but have any of you tried studying for the freakin’ bar exam while listening to the boing-doing of a doorstopper all day???  Don’t judge me.  Since then, it’s been hard trying to break him of the habit.  They must line those treats with crack cocaine or something.

It’s gotten bad.  Real bad.  I’m *this close* to calling A&E’s “Intervention” to see if I can get the dog some help.  He does it in front of company, he does it ALL day long and he even gets up in the MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT and does it.  How would you feel if, at 2 A.M., you heard “dooooooooing -booooing”??  We tried to ignore it but after 2 HOURS of it, we gave in for the sake of getting a good night’s sleep.  Now, he gets up AT LEAST once, maybe twice in the middle of the night for a treat.  He is very much like a newborn child.

One time, we had just crawled into bed and we heard a familiar sound, yet at a different pitch.  It was a “boing-doing”, however, it was the door stopper behind our bedroom door -which means Cosmo knows that those things are behind doors and that is where he can find them.  Lord help us.

Oh sure, company thinks it is the CUTEST thing ever.  And trust me, the first few times, it was hilariously adorable.  But now?? Now it’s ridiculous.  Here are some pictures that my brother captured at our Superbowl Party:

So, to recap, while my guests are watching the Superbowl, Cosmo is in the kitchen BEGGING for crack.

Today, I was cleaning up the house and Cosmo was doing his usual “boing-doing” and I was doing my usual “pretending to be a hard-ass”.  It went on for about 15 minutes and then…then it just…stopped.  It was glorious.  I got a little worried thinking he had finally over-dosed or something so I go to the kitchen and find this:

Doods, he BROKE THE METAL doorstopper!  He had hit it so many times that it just gave out.  I think this is what is called “rock bottom”.   I looked at him and he was so pitiful – he was still hitting it and rolling it around the kitchen floor – but he couldn’t figure out why it stopped “boing-ing”.  He has been depressed all morning.  I called and told my husband and he said, “Well, we have to get him another one”.  I said, “Oh, of course we do.”

We are enablers.  That’s what Dr. Drew would tell  us.

The worst part about having a child struggling with addiction is that I’m on edge.  I’m just waiting for him to find another door-stopper and scare the be-jeez out of me with the new sound.  Just…waiting…

UPDATE:  he has now just resorted to scratching the door and whining in the most pitiful, high pitch way possible.

Do you think they can deliver those door stoppers or should I just head to Home Depot RIGHT now?

One Year

Published on March 21, 2010 in Uncategorized. 0 Comments

Exactly one year ago, on March 20, 2009, we moved into our first house.

We had looked and looked for the perfect place for us.  We were both spoiled by our parents and we grew up in beautiful homes.  That didn’t make the journey of finding something we loved and could afford any easier.  We found our house in October, 2008 and it hadn’t even been built yet.  We saw the model and immediately we knew – we were home.  It felt like childhood and our future all at the same time.

We walked on the dirt where our house would stand and just imagined how great it would be to own property.

We moved into the place with basically no furniture.  We were coming from a 800 square foot apartment and moving into a 2900 square foot house.  We had two mattresses (no headboards) and a couch.  Over the next year, we would take advantage of any government incentive money thrown our way and work to make our house a home.  I think we’ve done pretty good so far.  It feels like home, and that is priceless.


Sometimes I Say Things Without Thinking

Published on March 20, 2010 in Uncategorized. 0 Comments

While traveling to Vegas (a post coming soon), my husband and I went through Hinkley, CA.  You remember Hinkley — it’s that small town from Erin Brockovich where the drinking water was laced with pure evil.  Hinkley has a special little place in our hearts because the firm we used to work for was involved in a follow-up case.  I was very much like Erin Brockovich.  And by “very much”, I mean, “not at all, except for her big boobs”.  Hinkley is very small and very quaint.  And by “quaint”, I mean “like no place you’ve ever seen in your life, except maybe in movies, and only then when they are being very exaggeratory”.

While passing through, I noticed that people were selling a LOT of stuff.  And to notify the passers-by that their stuff was for sale, they would spray paint “for sale” right on the thing they were selling.  That seems weird, I mean, doesn’t that lower the resale value??

Anyway, we saw a sign in a front yard that said, “Goats for sale”.  This is the actual conversation that took place in the car:

Me:  GOATS for sale?!?!?!  Isn’t it illegal to sell goats!!?

Husband:  Oh my god, don’t make me laugh right now I have to pee.

Me:  No, no, I mean, I know you can sell them in other countries.  I just think it’s illegal to sell goats in the U.S.

Husband:  WHY would you think it’s illegal to sell goats?

Me: Well, you never see any on leashes or anything.  You don’t eat ‘em.  You don’t pet them.  It’s not like you can just put one in the back of the BMW and take it home.

Husband:  I can’t deal with this right now, I have to pee too bad.

Painter Man

Published on March 19, 2010 in Uncategorized. 0 Comments

Today is my dad’s birthday.  He is “the painter” of “the painter’s daughter” fame.

When I was very young, my parents and my dad’s parents went on “vacation” every year to “Homa-Homa”.  That is Oklahoma for those of you who can pronounce all the syllables.  My brother and I were very, very young.  He was probably 4 and I was probably 2 years old.  We had family in Oklahoma, which is why we had “vacation” there.  From what I remember, I had a blast.

Back in “the day”, they didn’t have cell phones so if you were traveling in a caravan, you just had to stay on their bumper to make sure if they took an exit to pee, that you went with them.  Since my dad is a genius, he decided to buy CB radios.  Yes, that’s right — it was so far back in “the day” that they didn’t even have reliable walkie-talkies yet.  My dad gave my grandparents a CB radio and my parents had one too.  We were very much like truckers or, in the very least, The Carter Family Band.

Since everyone in the free world can hear your conversations on a CB, you had to have specific names.  My dad’s call tag was “painter-man”.  I don’t remember much from these trips, but this I remember crystal clear as if it were yesterday:   Sometimes, I’d ride a bit with my grandparents and I’d wake up from a nap (or just get generally lonesome) and miss my dad.  They’d let me get on the CB and talk to him so I knew he was close by.  I’d grab the radio and would say, “PAINTER MAN, PAINTER MAN come in painter man!!!!”  It wouldn’t take long before I’d hear my dad’s voice on the other end, his sole reason of responding to comfort me and remind me he was near-by.

I live about 200 miles from him now.  And, thankfully, we have cell phones to make the distance seem smaller.  But to be honest, not much has changed between then and now.  I still call just to hear his voice on the other end – it’s as comforting now as it was all those years ago.  He offers me advice, he calms my nerves, he comforts me and sometimes he even tells me I’m wrong.  Even as a full-fledged grown up, I still find myself calling out to him:  ”Painter man, Painter man, come in painter man.”

Happy Birthday, Painter Man.  I love you.

An Open Letter to Kate Winslet

Published on March 18, 2010 in Uncategorized. 0 Comments

While reading my daily smut, I came across this jewel.

I’m gonna go ahead and say what everyone else in the entire world is thinking: Does this mean she is FINALLY gonna get wit’ Leo DiCaprio???!!

I mean, c’mon Kate (can I call you Kate? Ms. Winslet, if you’re nasty?) — you obviously love him as much as everyone else does!  Might I remind you of your Oscar acceptance speech:

“Leo, I’m so happy I can stand here and tell you how much I love you and how much I’ve loved you for 13 years, and your performance in this film is nothing short of spectacular. I love you with all my heart, I really do,” she said, as the actor blew her kisses from the audience.

Ma’am, I don’t know who you think you are, but when Leo Freaking DiCaprio blows you “kisses from the audience”, you hightail it off whatever stage you are on and make contact.  Let us live vicariously through you.

Now, I understand you’ll need time to heal after your divorce from a man you were with for, like, 10 years.  I feel for you, I really do.  But I think Leo would make a great father for your children.  Am I out of line saying that to you, Ms. Winslet?  I certainly don’t mean any disrespect but think of Leo — the poor guy has been dating a string of “models” (which I’m convinced are really the same person just in different clothes and a wig – they all look alike) for 10 years not wanting to settle down with any of them.  Do you want to know why?  *Holds hands up to mouth to make words louder* BECAUSE HE LOVES YOU!

Now, as a lawyer, I feel compelled to have full disclosure here (to protect myself from liability, mostly):  I could be completely wrong about him loving you or being right for you.  I probably just being completely selfish because I want you two together despite either of your levels of happiness.  But it is your fault really, Kate, because YOU are the one that starred in Titanic with Leo when I was 16 and impressionable about love.  You made me love the two of you together.  So really, you have no one to blame but yourself.

I hope you’re happy.

Now go and ask Leo what he wants from the kids for Father’s Day.