Vegas, Baby

You will not believe this
but I tell you it's true...
I'm off to Vegas
so I bid you adieu.

My sister-in-law is fifty
she's celebrating in style;
a weekend with nine ladies...
I'll be gone for a while.

We'll talk, we'll shop,
we'll see all the sights;
we probably won't sleep
until well after midnight.

So please say a prayer
that all will go well,
and when I come back
I'll have so much to tell.

My "I"signment

Our favorite Catholic School Teacher gave me an assignment to write about the letter "I" (and here I was worried she would assign me the letter "X"). Well, here goes...

I is for ITALY, a country which is boot-shaped...which makes me think of ITALIAN SHOES...that I like to wear to L'Arena to listen to an ITALIAN OPERA...which makes me think of my ITALIAN NONNA...who cooked ITALIAN FOOD that was molto delizioso.

"I" is for my favorite name: Isabella. Not Isabel. Isabella. And I liked this name waaaay before Isabella Swan even existed. So there.

"I" is for ice...which I do NOT like in my Diet Coke. I like my soda cold...with no ice. I get a lot of weird looks from waiters.

"I" is for ice-cream, which is okay. But it makes me think of gelato, ITALIAN ICE-CREAM which is molto delizioso.

"I" is for imbroglio...an Italian word that has crossed over into the English language. It is a much more elegant way of saying "entanglement" or "disagreement". Which sounds better... The two men got into a barroom brawl over a girl? or Their imbroglio involved a woman?

Finally, "I" is for Improvise:

There once was an Idahoan who had an Idiosyncrasy about Ignoring his mother-in-law. That was not a good Idea. It made her Ill-humored and she thought him Impertinent. But he was Ignorant and Immature; he even Imagined that she would one day leave him an Indeterminate amount of money. Indeed, he was an Idiot. The end.

conversing with myself (i.e. not listening to myself)

Bia, you have 30 minutes to get dinner ready...you know how you are and you'd better not turn on HGTV.

I'm just going to see what project they're doing.

Consider yourself warned...

Oh. They're remodeling the family room. That's what we need to do. Let me see what ideas they have.

You really don't have time to watch this.

I'm just going to watch until the next commercial.

You need to defrost the chicken.

I'll just microwave it. How are they going to make that color work?! I don't see how that's going to work.

You really need to go start dinner.

The BIG REVEAL is next. That's it, I have to see how it turns out.

You have five minutes...


10 MINUTES LATER:

Papa Johns Pizza? I'd like to place an order . . . delivery, please.

Embarassing Moment #5400345

I am a light sleeper, so when nature calls in the middle of the night I stumble to the bathroom with my eyes half closed. The idea is to stay half asleep because if I wake up any further then I'll never go back to sleep.

BUT . . . last night he-who-must-not-be-named left the toilet seat up.

Ugh. Ick. A rude, rude awakening.

Girls' Night Out

Tonight I went to see this musical. The only words that come to mind are Mamma Mia! . . . it was that much fun.

(And who were those people in the audience dancing along during the numerous encores? I have no earthly idea. None. Whatsoever.)

Morning Cappuccino with Friends

I have been a bad hostess. Really bad. So many of you have been checking in lately, leaving nice comments, and I haven't even offered you a cup of coffee.

So, let me make amends . . .

How are you? It is so good to see you! Please. Come in.

Did you have a nice Christmas? Despite a rainy Christmas week (which, as we know, causes my hair to frizz), it was wonderful.

Here. Have a seat. Can I offer you a cup of coffee? Make you a cappuccino? I have soda, tea, and wine, but it is a bit early for that.

Cappuccino? Wonderful! I make a mean cappuccino.

What's that? YOU HAVE TO SPEAK A LITTLE LOUDER WHILE I BREW YOUR ESPRESSO IN THE BARISTA AND STEAM THE MILK.

Here you go. Please, try these cookies . . . they're perfect for dunking.

Oh! You don't have to leave yet. It was so lovely chatting with you.

I know, let's do lunch sometime. We'll talk soon. Ciao, Ciao!

Popular Science

Getting my boys to wear a coat is a struggle. I suppose that living in the south they get a little spoiled by the mild weather, so when it does get cold they don't have a concept of jacket use.

(definitely not my son)

Yesterday, when the upteenth argument ensued after telling them to put on a jacket, my middle son set me straight.

Mom. Don't you know science? Boys have these particles in our bodies that go crazy and keep us warm when we play outside.

Oh. Well then. By all means. I sent them and their particles outside . . . without a jacket.

Who am I to argue with particles?