Pinkberry

This is my new favorite yogurt place. I went to the one in W. Hollywood and it was well worth the 60 mile drive!! If you are a frozen yogurt addict like me, I highly recommend this place. There's a reason it's called Crackberry!

Pinkberry article

Blond Moment #4,971

(You'll probably see this circulating via e-mail as a dumb blond joke at some point)

Conversation with a Pregnant Friend:

Friend: "The worst part about being pregnant is that I can't take any medicine for anything. I'm still recovering from a lingering flu and I had to suffer through it with just a couple regular strength tylenols. Didn't do much to help the mucus pouring out of my nose, swollen glands, sore throat and hacking cough.

Me: "Oh you poor thing. That would be awful."

Friend: "Yeah I'll be so happy when I'm able to load up on drugs after the baby's born!"

Me: "I can't imagine living without motrin. If I were ever pregnant I don't know what I'd do because I get the WORST menstrual cramps and I pop 5 or 6 motrin at a time. I seriously don't think I could go without for 9 months."

Friend: "Um...Laura?"

Me: "What? (long pause) Ohhhhh, Duh! Ok, nevermind."

My perfect day....

It's not my intention with this post to piss anyone off in the midwestern or northeastern states. Instead, it's more of an attempt to give those of you suffering from frostbitten fingers and frozen mucous membranes a mere glimpse into the not so distant future. The last few days have been summer like out here. Temps have been in the mid 80's, with bright blue skies and a warm gentle breeze. As far as 2007 goes I have to say Friday, February 16th was my perfect day.

Here is a recap of my summer day, dated 02/16/07:

Awake to dog kisses at 7:30am. Feed the animals, make coffee, get dressed and ready to start the day. Clean out the garage of all the stuff that I've been carting around for 10 years. Load up the car (Wrigs included) and drop it off at the Discovery shop. (I'm sure cleaning out storage tubs in the garage wouldn't register high on the perfect day meter for most people, but for me it is like a 500 pound weight has lifted from my shoulders and just adds nothing but glory to my day!) Wrigs and I eat breakfast at Corner Bakery where I enjoy my favorite: swiss oatmeal with a sweet crisp and an extra hot latte. Run a few more errands, home around noon and realize it's getting a little warm outside. Change clothes and take the dog for a quick walk.

About 12:30 now, back home again, catch one of my favorite episodes of I Love Lucy and then start to weed in the back yard. Feel the sun beating down on my neck and shoulders. Change clothes again, now wearing a tank top and running shorts. Back to weeding, step in dog poop. No big deal. I have shitty shoes on anyway. This doesn't affect my perfect day. I continue to enjoy the sensations of the summer day. The warmth, the blue skies, the yellowness of the sun, the flowers in bloom. I take in all the sights and...smells. Decide to clean up the rest of dog poop in the yard. Several minutes later, I'm back to beautifying my back yard. Work on pruning -not sure if that's the correct term here, more like hacking away at branches on the orange/lemon hybrid tree. Start to get thirsty so I pick a few oranges and lemons and head inside to make an orange-lemonade. (sidenote: One of the benefits on having your own fruit tree is that you don't have to scrub your gems with antibacterial soap and warm water. For this I am grateful and this is a definite plus to my perfect day).

While inside making my refreshing summer drink, Tom comes home early from a business trip. We have the whole afternoon together so we both head outside and work on weeding and shaping up the front yard. We have all the tools, wheel barrow, bark chips, etc. spread out on the lawn while we each work sections of the yard. It's now HOT outside. Like 87 degrees but no humidity, just a warm gentle breeze every so often. I cut some flowers from our haphazard wildflower collection and head inside to put them in water. Wrigs is pining to join us in the yard so I decide to bring him out for a summer picnic and we both lay down and enjoy the simple beauty of the day. Tom continues to weed and whack but Wrigs and I decide to take a quick nap while blanketed by the sun's rays.


Oh, and don't think Chumley was devoid of any fun that day. He stayed inside the house peeping out the window from time to time while sitting inside a tire. Yes indeed. A good time was had by all.

I don't mean to complain but...

it may be 75 degrees outside, but our house is still COLD!!! And poor little Chumley has been sneezing for almost a week. He sounds like one of Wrigley's squeaker toys on it's last leg. Since Chumley doesn't do very well at the vet, I'm going to go without him and describe his symptoms and see if the Dr. can offer any suggestions to help Sir Sneezy. I'm actually going to take Wrigley in for a weight check and refill his heartworm and flea and tick meds, so it will be a fun filled visit for both of us. Wrigley LOVES to go to the vet. Even after 2 horrible surgeries, he still bolts out of the car and rushes up to the front desk awaiting kisses and hugs from all the staff. He always knocks the credit/debit key pad device off the counter and one time he had pressed his paw on the pad and changed all the prompts to Spanish. I guess that's not such a big deal, seeing we live in Southern California.

Eerie Similarity

I've been reading a lot about Anna Nicole's life and death and discovered something that we have in common. We share the same birthday, November 28. But that's not all. Her son was born on January 22, which is the same day as my husband's birthday. Am I the only one that thinks that's a little freaky?

The Nose Cozy

I've received a few e-mails from people curious about my home made nose cozy - what it looks like, how it works, etc.

So, here it is...



I'd also like to point out that this is probably one of the most unflattering pictures I've ever taken, but for the purpose of showcasing the Nose Cozy, I pushed aside my pride.

2 simple things that I DREAD

Going to the bank. Getting gas in my car. Why? Because inevitably something goes wrong. I'll start with the bank.

The closest drive up bank from my house is 7 miles away which is about a 15 minute drive. Maybe I've seen too many bank robbery movies, but I've always preferred drive up windows as opposed to long lines inside the bank. It just makes me nervous. I look at everyone suspiciously and if I can't see both hands at all times, I start to panic. So I opt for the drive up window even though the service at my bank is deplorable. I dread it because after one incident I am certain the bank employees see my car coming and frantically flip coins (I'm sure they have plenty lying around) to see who will have to wait on me.

This particular time was before Christmas and I was rushing around doing last minute things and stopped to make a deposit and get some cash. I had rung the teller button several times to no avail so I just sat and waited and waited. SEVEN minutes go by and still nothing. I quickly beep my horn. Nothing. A few more quick beeps, nothing obnoxious, just fast little toots to make them aware of my presence. Still nothing. It's now been TEN minutes and I watch as my gas indicator light flashes on "E". I become more frazzled and start saying "Hello? Hello? Hello?" while pressing the call teller button at least 12 times. Still no response. I can't take it anymore and I can feel my patience level bubbling over so I just BLAST my horn non stop. The sound is deafening and starts to hurt my ears so I roll up my window and then begin to laugh while I'm doing this because I think to myself, "Oh my God, this is what a psychopath must feel like!" I keep the horn blowing for a good minute and then stop. I wait a bit and STILL NOTHING!

Now I'm afraid I'll run out of gas so I shut off my car. I sit for about 30 more seconds and then start round 2 of horn honking hell. This time I let the horn go for so long that it makes me dizzy. I am craning my neck to see if there is any movement whatsoever in the bank and then finally a man comes rushing to the window. He does NOT look happy. I lay off the horn and try to regain some composure. I can't hear what he's saying so I start to tell him that I've been waiting for almost 15 minutes and then realize my window is up. I try to put it down but it's not working and then I remember I shut off my car so I turn on the ignition and then put down the window and tell him that I've been waiting for a long time and am about to run out of gas. He barely lifts his head to acknowledge me and then another bank employee rushes to the window, looks at me and then turns away. The man says nothing to me as he finishes up my transaction and I thank him as I collect and count my money. Once I drive off I can see him shaking his head while talking with the other employee who ran to get a look at the horn honking psycho. Oh well, I think. Let them have their laugh at my expense. It's not like they know where I live.

This was not my intent with this post. I was going to talk about what happened TODAY but instead I relived that whole debacle and I'm too worked up to blog about today's episode at the gas station. What I'll do instead is just cut and paste the e-mail I sent to my friend about it earlier. It's much more concise and to the point. I tend to ramble on this blog anyhow. So here is part of the e-mail:

---Oh and I went APESHIT at the gas station today. First I went to the bank, waited at the drive through you know how I love that. Literally have .08 of a tank of gas left. I stop at the gas station on my way home and I try TWO pumps, BOTH OF WHICH WERE NOT ACCEPTING ATM CARDS!!! I WAS SOOO PISSED! The gas station was sooo crowded so I'm pulling away from one pump that didn't work to pull up to another pump while other people are waiting and already thought I got gas but I didn't because the BLASTED THING DIDN'T WORK!! I was trying to tell these people that I still hadn't gotten gas and I had to use the other pump but my voice was not loud enough (lost it from screaming during Superbowl) so people are cutting me off and giving me dirty looks and literally veins are popping out of my neck as I'm trying to explain but no one can hear me!!! I SCREAMED F*CK THIS!!!! But it was like a mouse whisper and I got back in my car and drove off, still on empty. OMG I am getting mad again.
OH and there is more to the story. It's that time of the month and my 'you know what' was coming out and I was in a mad rush to get home and---

I think I'll end it here. Sorry to any fellas who may have been reading that last bit. But it's a part of life for us ladies, no sense denying it. Also helps explain my impatience and irritability.