Quick Recap

So much to blog about, so little time. It's 6:13 AM and I'm already late for my day. How did that happen?? Probably because I arrived home at 7:30 last night and convinced myself all the work due would be better met if I hit it fresh in the morning. I'm a sucker for a good excuse...

Anyway, with apologize for the lack of thrill, drama, or probably even proper use of grammar, here's a quick recap of life:

• Jogged 6 miles yesterday in the rain and felt mah-vah-lous.  Looks like Kay and I are a fit as running partners and I like her very much.
• Work is pouring in at an unprecedented rate. Or, rather, I should say the possibilities of work are pouring in. I have several new client meetings today and a stack of referrals/leads to follow up on.
• Books? What books...?
• I barely see Blair. He got home a little before midnight last night and left by 5:30 AM today. I miss the guy.
• Log cabin designer from California is coming to see us in May to sketch out plans for the dream cabin. Whoppee!
• I'm in a speech contest on Saturday. Luckily, it's impromptu speaking and I don't have to prepare...
• More people than I realized read my blog, as all day yesterday I was asked if it was a granny-panty day. Perhaps I shared too much? =)
• I have GOT to get out to see my sister's baby!
• We're going to the Netherlands for a quick trip next month. Remember...what happens in the Red Light District, stays in the Red Light District.

I'm late, late, late...

Cat Book Gets $1.25 million dollar advance

Did I get a $1.25 million dollar advance on my cat book? Noooooooo. But I suppose I'm happy (in an envious, backstabbing, slightly petty sort of way) someone did. Read the full story HERE.

Granny Panty Days

Saturday, late afternoon. I am folding laundry fresh from the dryer. I pick up a pair of my underwear, the ones I wore under my dressy black pants. The pants are flattering but require a bit of tummy control. Hence the supersized, steel-fiber enforced, 9 flowing yards of material stitched into the culmination of one great big pair of--yes, brace yourself-- "granny panties."

Yuck, yuck, yuck.  I triple-fold the panties into a small triangle and stuff them to the bottom of the folded laundry pile.

I pick up another pair of underwear. Much better. These are the "Hanky Panky" almost thong panties that were so popular with movie stars (I saw it on Oprah) a while back. Lacy...delicate... worthless. It's like shoving a tissue down your pants and saying you're wearing underwear. Still... if I'm ever found dead or wounded on the highway, it's my prayer I'll be found in these and not the Target granimals knock-off underwear also to be found in my drawer.

Men have no idea of the complexities involved in women's underwear. They think it's all "Victoria Secret runway" stuff. Hidden panels of lycra found in our undergarments that smoosh our natural God-given womanly shape into something we hope at least vaguely resembles the starved, toothpick body of the flowing blonde-haired chick on this month's edition of Cosmo remain a mystery to them. And we women embrace this.  Have we been brainwashed, or what?

Women's underwear is its own little microcosm. You can judge my mood by my underwear. Black and lacy means I feel daring and sexy. Cotton and colorful means playful and upbeat. And faded white, elastic waistband falling apart undies means the hell with it--I've given up competing in the game of life, at least for the day.

I did a quick count for this blog and I own no less than 35 pairs of underwear. Yet I swear to you, I think I wear the same 7 each week. Just like a teacher with a favorite student, we have those we favor above the rest.

I do not favor my Granny Panties and yet, they make it into the laundry hamper each week. Like the nerdy kid who sits in the back of the room, their presence and the fact that they will do the work required of them is taken for granted.

"Granny Panties Happen." Wouldn't that make a lovely bumber sticker?

Here's wishing you days of thongs and lace...

A Night With David Sedaris

Anyone who knows me knows I worship at the alter of David Sedaris. If ever you are in need of a laugh, run, don't walk, to pick up Me Talk Pretty One Day, Dress Your Family In Corduroy and Denim, or the classic The Santaland Diaries , a true account of a grown man working as an elf at Santaland at Macy's Department Store. His writing makes me laugh so hard I want to throw up.

Which is why I was thrilled to score tickets to Sedaris' Greensboro talk this last Thursday.  Most of the talk was him reading his essays which may sound dull but, rest assured, isn't. I was howling along with the rest of the audience.  Hearing Sedaris proclaim his boyfriend Hugh as being too "faggy," was worth attending the concert alone.

I went with two of my writer girlfriends and of course driving home that night we had to pick apart what made Sedaris so successful. For my part, I think he' s just an observer of life. He went to Japan recently and read parts of his diary to us. One entry noted a whole chicken cost $42. Then later he came across 8 strawberries that were $5 each. "My God," he wrote in his diary. "You could almost buy a chicken for that amount!"

At the end of the evening, he answered questions (informing us Ireland was the only place he'd been that reminded him of North Carolina, where he'd grown up, because you'd ask someone the time and 10 minutes later they're still talking at you...) and also recommended a book. Apparently, he recommends a book on every tour he goes on which I find incredibly nice of him and wow--wouldn't you like to be the author on the receiving end of THAT gift?

The book he recommended on Thursday was The Zombie Survival Guide: Complete Protection From the Living Dead, written by the son of Mel Brooks.

So there you have it. Zombies, elves, and $42 Japanese chickens. I told you this guy was fun... Give yourself a treat and read one of his books today.