I'm glad somebody can find them

From my recent trip to San Diego, my friend Toni sent me an e-mail with the subject: "And these are..."

"...breasts, Luca!"*

What a great picture this will be to pull out when before the prom, when the college girlfriend comes home, etc.

*In case you wondering, I was wearing a Yoga to the People tee shirt, Luca was pointing to the letters saying, "O's!", like his Cheerios.

Seeking Home for 2 Family Dogs

Attention readers in the greater Boston/New England area: This was passed along from a friend - please forward to anyone you know who might be interested!

Two gorgeous labs - trained - Seeking Home for Family Dogs Cookie and Coco

We are moving overseas in just 2 weeks. Unfortunately, I have still not been able to find a good home for Cookie and Coco . We're not able to take our beloved doggies with us and I've been desperately trying to find a home for both of them 'together'. They were raised together and pine without each other. The Lab rescue have already said that they would probably separate them, so this is my last resort. Recently I tried to take Coco out in my car alone and she TOTALLY refused to even get into the car without Cookie.....!!!! She absolutely pulled back on her haunches until Cookie was by her side. Both doggies are in great health, have been spayed and have ID chips implanted under the skin. Cookie turned 3 December 10th and Coco turned 3 April 1st. Cookie is my mellow-yellow, and just loves her tummy rubbed. Coco is adorably funny and lives for her "ball." She also loves the water...... Cookie loves lots of attention. Both doggies are loyal and love to walk. They have been raised with my 3 kids running around all over the place, and have survived Sammy's constant hugging and love of 'dress-up', so they are fantastic family dogs.T his is by far one of the most difficult decisions I have ever had to make,but under the circumstances I have no choice. Please, please forward these pics to all your friends. I want to find a great home for these fabulous doggies. They are just adorable and it's heartbreaking to let them go. In a perfect world, I hope that we could find someone local so that we can still keep in touch and visit them. *I pray that someone, somewhere can help us keep Cookie and Coco together, and love them just as much as we do.* Even if you can’t take them, please pass this around!

Thank you all from the bottom of my heart.

Contact: Katherineat:kjmorris74[at]yahoo[dot]com

like daughter, like mother?

Kayley's been going through quite a growth spurt lately, both physically and developmentally. Apparently she's been quite the little stunt woman lately. She fell at daycare and bumped her head on a window sill. She took a digger in the driveway and scraped both her knees and her arm. Steph said she was standing on the couch (not allowed) when her dad came home, and K got so excited she just stepped off the couch.

Now, in my head I'm thinking 'like mother, like daughter,' but I didn't want to say it. Fortunately, Steph beat me to it: "Not only does the apple not fall far from the tree, the apple is still part of the tree."

Seriously, it's genetic. We come from a family of fallers. I'm not talking little stumbles, I'm talking careening down the stairs of the Bunker Hill monument, shattering knee caps (multiple times), breaking toes, backs, heels off shoes, cutting open faces. My sister's nick name in high school was "step funny." Clearly, Kayley takes after her mother.

But apparently she takes after her auntie, too. K's really coming in to her terrible two's. Last week she got mad at Steph so she left the room, got her blocks, and came back in the room to throw them. She didn't just grab what was available and chuck it, she chose her weapon. (Fortunately for Steph, she didn't choose one of her wood block puzzles!) "She has you in her!" Steph told me. Me? "Yes, you. She just gets this look, and I'm like, 'I know that look. That's Amy. I already grew up with this!'" My aunt confirmed.

The other day, Steph asked her, "Do you channel Auntie Amy?"

K's response? "No, mommy, you channel Auntie Amy." She has no idea what that means, but she knows how to say it with attitude.

Apparently my niece's inner bitch is Auntie Amy.

shoe-pinion

I popped into DSW this morning to buy a hat for my triathlon and, of course, walked out with a pair of shoes.

I bought the Franco Sarto Label in black. I like the brown better, but they didn't have my size, so when I got to my office I searched for them online. Apparently I got quite a deal this morning, because I paid $36, and the cheapest I can find them online is $50.


So here's my quandary: Do I buy the brown for $50? Do I stick with the black or return it? I'm not in love with this shoe, but I've been searching high and low for something more "professional" and this really fits the bill. I'd love a black peep-toe with a slight wedge, but I feel like Goldilocks searching for a four-leaf clover (how's that for a mixed metaphor?!). In other words, I thing the one that's "just right" is going to be next to impossible to find.


Help!

guerrilla girls

I'm teaching a course in the fall called Gender & Communication. In prepping my first lecture on the waves of feminism, I came across this, and had to share.

Take that, art snobs! Grrr.

insult + injury

Remember back in February when I announced I'd made the asinine decision to do a triathlon on my birthday? Well the time has almost come; the race is on Sunday. Honestly, it can't come soon enough; I want this mo-fo over and done with.

Yesterday I finally took the bike out for a 10.5 mile ride around Prospect Park, accompanied by my friend, colleague, gym buddy and life coach, Ruthie. Thank god for her, because if I'd been on my own I would have quit after about 20 min.

I was exhausted afterwards. I tried to take a nap but couldn't fall asleep. I slept awful last night. I've been going to occupational therapy for nerve entrapment in my right arm (I was losing feeling in my last 2 fingers while typing and decided that wasn't a good sign), so I have to sleep with this big blue soft brace on my right arm to keep me from bending it. I look like I'm going to do falconry or something; fortunately no one sees me sleeping! Anyways, it was bothering me last night, and I kept waking up with my left arm numb. (I clearly used to sleep with my right arm bent under my pillow, which was part of the problem, so now I'm just abusing the left side instead).

While waiting for the subway I caught sight of some one's iced coffee and remembered, a little too late, the one I'd left sitting on the kitchen counter. I had the forethought to brew a full pot of coffee last night, put it in the fridge, and make myself an icy caffeinated treat in a travel mug. I just forgot to take it with me.

When I walked into OT the first thing my therapist said was, "You look exhausted." "Great," I thought, "I do look as bad as I feel." Well I only felt worse when I saw how hot her other patient was. He was gorgeous and not wearing a wedding ring! If that wasn't bad enough, she made me do these exercises that I've decided are not actually therapeutic and are just designed to make me look like an ass. I pinch my thumb and first finger together, making an "OK" sign. Then I put my other fingers on my chin/cheek and rotate my hand upward so the thumb comes up to my eyebrow. Last week when doing them she told me I looked like Dame Edna.

After OT I went to the gym to give my tri-suit a try in the pool. I saw not one but two of my former students at the pool. They're both girls I like and have a good rapport with, but I prefer to see them when I'm not dressed like an elephant seal on its way to a luau. I felt the need to explain to the one student who was life guarding that I didn't always dress like this when doing laps. And then my cap ripped. For anyone that swims, you understand how frickin' annoying it is when you're about to get in the pool, and your cap rips. Fortunately my hair is short now so I could swim without one, but it also meant that I swallowed a lot of water because my hair kept getting in my mouth when I tried to breathe.

This day has got to get better.

Stoop Sale = Success!

Sunday my roommate Anne and I held a stoop sale. This is what you do when you live in an urban environment and don't have a yard, but need to say all your old crap. We got our stuff downstairs around 10 AM. I thought we'd be done around 1 PM. Not so. 8 hrs later, we both had sunburns, we've met some very interesting people, and we'd made about $300. Exhausting, but totally worth it, mainly because we got so much stuff out of our apartment!

I saw two pairs of my shoes find new homes (I only put out 2 pairs!), unlike this summer when I had a yard sale at my parents' house. Clearly there weren't enough suburban fashionistas around to appreciate my collection - I think I only sold 1 pair out of the whole lot!

I miss you all and hope you're happy where ever you walk.

locusts in the forecast?

Within 30 minutes, I witnessed the following events:

1. A woman crying and praying in the locker room at the gym*
2. A line at the ATM like a Black Friday run on the bank
3. A car backing up in Union Square because it was going the wrong way down a 1 way street**
4. An S train running on the B, D line.***

Is there an impending apocalypse I haven't heard about?

Notes:
* I walked by this woman when I was coming out of the shower, so I knew she had seen me. I was in the next row of lockers getting changed when I thought I heard her crying. Then she was mumbling, "I really need you now, I really need you now." I wasn't sure if she was praying until I heard her say, "I praise your name, Lord Jesus, I praise you." Being the godless bitch that I am, I immediately started mentally blogging about this incident. The only time anything religious comes up for me at the gym is when I think, "God, I am out of shape," or "Sweet Jesus, I can barely get my fat ass up these stairs." When I went to leave she was half-way into her gym clothes, but she was still crying, and I just felt like I would be a giant asshole if I left without saying something (we were the only 2 in the locker room). I just poked my head around the corner and asked if she was ok. She nodded her head. I asked if she was just having a bad day and if she wanted to talk or just be left alone. She said she was fine but appreciated me asking. I told her I hoped her workout was cathartic. I totally understand having such a bad day that you're crying in public, which only makes it worse. And while I'm not big on prayer, more power to her for going to the gym - my sad ass would have been home, in bed, with some ice cream.
** You don't back up in Union Sq.
*** It took me a minute to even figure out where an "S" train normally runs. It's the shuttle between Grand Central Station and Times Square. How it would even get onto a B,D line is beyond me. To give a Boston reference, this would be like seeing an orange line car on the C/green line.

it's not that bad

Sorry, I know I've been missing in action a bit. I don't think I've gone this long without posting since I started blogging. Not that you were holding your breath, but things have just been hectic, and I've been lame. No major updates, but lots of little ones hopefully coming your way in the near future.

In the mean time, I was going through some old pictures and thought I'd share. Our apartment is a bit of a mess at the moment - in the last 2 weeks one roommate left, a new one joined, there are a gazillion boxes in the living room, and we're having a stoop sale tomorrow so there's even more junk than usual hanging around. Fortunately, it's not as bad as this:

These are pictures from the week after my road trip, when I had landed back at my parents' house and was trying to get my stuff organized before I moved in with Lisa. This is what happens when you move as much as I do (I've stopped counting, but last time I checked I think it was about 9 times in 7 yrs). Not advised. I'm very happy that I have no plans to move in the next 6-12 months and even happier that I'm happy right where I am!

And that my room doesn't look like that.

help my friends get a free wedding cake!

Huge favor to ask!!! Cakes For Occasions is doing a contest for best proposal story for a free cake. My friend Stacey is getting married this fall, and she has one of the most amazing proposal stories I've ever heard. No matter how cynical I get about dating and relationships, this is one of the stories that keeps me going. Also, Stacey and I have known each other since we met doing drama years and years ago. We're not always super in touch, but she is an amazing friend and has always been there for me when I've needed her. She's a wonderful person and really deserves to get this cake!!!

Please vote for Stacey and Dave here... http://www.cakes4occasions.com/

If you don't know Stacey or her story, here it is:

My boyfriend (Dave) emailed my friend from college (Kyle) in order to make a plan to get me to New York City. My friend Kyle decided to take advantage of my obsession with John Stamos. I received a phone call from Kyle saying that his friend was producing a new musical on Broadway and that they were trying to secure John Stamos for the lead. A business dinner was planned, and Kyle asked his friend if I could come because of my love for Uncle Jesse. I was told as long as I behaved I could join. I spent the next two weeks getting ready for the dinner of my lifetime. My boyfriend dropped me off at South Station and I took the train to New York City one Saturday morning in May. I met Kyle at his apartment, watched a few YOUTUBE videos of John Stamos, and proceeded to get gussied up for this special dinner. We get to this posh restaurant in Tribeca, check in at the hostess stand, and the hostess whispers something to the other host. Kyle says "See, they said we are with the John Stamos party!” I smiled with excitement. We walk up to the table and there are eight people with menus in front of their faces. One menu falls down and it's my boyfriend's sister. I said, "What are you doing here?" I'm still clueless. All the menus come down and my parents, my sister, Dave's parents, Dave's brother, brother's fiance, and sister are all there. Dave comes out from the side and makes a beautiful speech, then gets down on one knee and asks me to marry him. All I could do was nod through my tears of joy. Everyone in the restaurant started cheering and clapping. After I put the gorgeous ring on my finger, kissed my fiancé, I turned to our table and said, "Does this mean I'm not meeting John Stamos??" Everyone laughed. I was so touched that our families came all the way to New York City to make this occasion one I will never forget.

French football hottie hits Houston St.

I came out of class tonight, and as I was crossing the street to the subway I walked passed 3 men in tee-shirts and gym shorts. I did a double-take - it was Thierry Henry! In case you don't know who he is, he's arguably one of the world's best soccer (football) players. He also happens to be one of my ex's favorite celebrities - he used to play for Arsenal, the ex's club. If the ex could meet one famous person, it would probably be monsieur Henry.

The taste of karma is so, so sweet. Thierry's pretty easy on the eyes, too.

guest blogger: li'l Z

Word. Li'l Z here, a.k.a. Amy's nephew Zachary. Auntie Aims' shizzle is all dizzled from the weekend, so I volunteered to hop in and update on the festivities. I'd like to give a shout-out to my big sister Kayley, who turns 2 today fo' reals. We had her party Saturday, and here's the shit that went down.

Here I am with my Auntie Amy. I'm so excited I could eat my hand! I haven't seen her since I was 6 days old, and I wanted to show her all the muscle I've packed on. My neck's still a little floppy, and I don't really dig tummy time, but I got mad skills with smilin' and drooling and shit.


Here's K with her buddy James. They're mad tight. And this is James' little brother, Connor:

We call him "Tank." I can't wait to start eating solids so I can bulk up like my man here.

My moms made the cake. It was sick! I couldn't eat it, obviously, 'cause I'm still on the b-milk and all, but I heard it was magically delicious.

Here's the whole fam - put yo' hands in the air for the Spindlers, whoop whoop!

The guest of honor, Miss K-monster clapping on the one's and two's with pops:

It was a big day! I napped through a lot of it, cause, y'know, little man's got to get his Zzz's and all, but I think everyone had a good time, especially the birthday girl. She got some kick-ass prezzies, too! Auntie Amy hooked her up with this play tent:




I cannot wait to get my crawl on so I can get some of that action.

Alright peeps, I need to do my business (a.k.a. eat, sleep and poop, not necessarily in that order). Happy b-day, sis!

love and naps,

li'l Z

kitchen tips

When multi-tasking in the kitchen, try not to use the pepper grinder in close proximity to your cup of coffee.

celeb baby brunch

Saturday morning I had a long over-due date with Peter, my best gay. We met for brunch at French Roast, a favorite cafe of ours on the edge of the West Village with a few outdoor tables that offer prime people-watching seats. French Roast with Peter has a special place in my heart. He took me there for the first time several years ago after we went to the Barney's sample sale (it was one of our first dates). As we were leaving Peter hooked his arm through mine and asked, "Do you think people look at us together and think, 'Poor girl, she doesn't realize her boyfriend is a flaming homosexual'?" I hope they do.

We snagged a seat outside, and within 5 minutes Peter had spotted Amanda Peet headed our way (he always sees celebrities - I think partially because he's always looking). She went into the restaurant and sat, with her daughter another celeb we couldn't identify, at the table on the other side of the window. I gawked momentarily and then returned my attention to Peter and my pomegranate mimosa. Towards the end of the meal Ms. Peet's daughter, who must be about 2 1/2, stood on the edge of the window sill and pressed herself against the glass. I waved; she giggled. Peter put his hands on the glass where hers were; she laughed as she pulled her hands away. We played this game on and off for the next 20 min or so. Amanda Peet must have thought we were either a) patient/sweet to be playing along or b) totally freaking nuts and thankful there was a pain of glass in between us and her child.

WTF week

Greetings!

It's WTF week over here. Let's review some of the weeks top WTF events:

1. 
   
   Baby daddy date - The (alleged) drug dealer and I had a date scheduled for Monday night. I really didn't want to go, but I didn't want to be mean. I spent all day thinking about how to get out of this; I implored my friends to put on their thinking caps and find me an excuse. Just as I was about to send some lame text about not feeling well, I got a Hail Mary: "Im not going to be able to make it tonight i have daughter till the morning, but i would like to see you soon ttyl!" Yes! but how did I get to the point in my life where I'm receiving text messages like this? WTF?


2. 
   
   Texted absence - Wednesday, 8:00 AM, my phone beeps. I wonder what Jane wants; I'm assuming it's Jane because I can't imagine who else could possibly be texting me at that hour, but no. It's a student telling me he's not going to be in class that morning. I gave my students my cell phone # last week when we went to see a film, because I didn't know what the theater looked like, where the ticket booth was, etc. In no way did I intend for them to use my number for any other reason. WTF?


3. 
   
   Facebooked ex - Wednesday, 3:30 PM, (it was a big day) I got a friend request from my high school ex-boyfriend. We had lots of up's and down's, but reconciled in early 2004. We haven't really kept in touch since. He's now bald, married, and has 2 month old twins. Why are you Facebooking me? You have 2 infants to be caring for! WTF?


4. 
   
   Return of SBDP - I haven't heard from the philosopher in over a month. We hung out, we made bread (we actually baked a loaf of bread, that's not a euphemism for something sexual), and that was it. I texted him the day after - bupkis. He called today. He left a message (no way was I answering that call) apologizing for being out of touch - lots of family drama, apparently - and asking if I wanted to get coffee. Did I mention it's been a month? WTF?

That's it so far for WTF week. Stay tuned for more WTF updates!

how I learned to be an auntie

wonder which aunt was babysitting this weekend...

best. e-mail. ever.

live with Borat?

Our roommate Edgar is getting married in August, so Anne and I need to find a new roommate. My friend Brian matched me up with Anne and did a fabulous job. We're hoping for repeat good luck. Yesterday, we both sent out e-mails to our contacts looking for potential interest. Anne's friend sent this response:


HI –

MY NAME IS PINO, I WANT TO BE NEW ROOMATES!

I LIKE WOMENS – THEY ARE PRETTY AND I CAN HELP WITH THE CHORE AND THE MOUSES. ALSO, I FAVOR THE SEX. HOPEFULLY WE MAY HAVE IT?

PLEASE, CONTACT ME WITH YOUR FOTOGRAPHS SO WE CAN BE GOOD ROOMATES TOGETHER. I CAN COOK NICE THINGS LIKE STEW AND ALSO TOMATOS.

KISSES, PINO

PS I HAVE 3 CHILDRENS THEY COME TO VISIT ON SATURDAYS BUT ONLY WITH A CORT-POINTED SUPERVISE. ONCE I DESTROY SOME PROPERTY BUT IT WAS ACCIDENT.

And then, several hours later, followed up with:


HIIT IS PINO AGAIN – SO DISAPPOINT THAT I DIDN’T HEARD FROM YOU YET.

PLEASE LET MY KNOW AT HER EARLIEST CONVENYENCE, THANK U, I AM READY FOR THE MOVING DATES.

Sadly, he doesn't really want to live with us, but it's probably for the best - I'd be wetting myself laughing all the time.

equal opportunity dater

I have a date for Monday night.

The last guy I dated had a master's in international relations and a research job at an Ivy League university. He might (but might not) be writing a book on the politics of sugar.

This new guy has an ex-wife and a 9-year-old daughter. He might (but might not) be a drug dealer.

Clearly, I don't discriminate when it comes to "types". Maybe I should start.

the perfect day

I had a rather amazing day. I woke up during the 9 o'clock hour thirsty, but without a hangover, despite my best efforts last night. I went for a 5.5 mile walk/run (emphasis on the walking) in Prospect Park and got a little sun on my arms. I promised myself that if I ran the whole time in the park - the last bit of which is cruelly uphill - I could get a massage, which I did. My back and shoulder have been killing me, plus me thinks there might be some carpal tunnel issues arising because I keep getting numbness and tingling in my right forearm and hand - occupational hazard of academia, right up there with paper cuts. The massage was fantastic.

Afterwards I went for a little walk in my 'hood. There's a store that I keep wanting to go into but it's always closed when I go by. I ran by it's sister store this morning and saw a really cute pair of sandals, I've been on the hunt for new sandals, so I decide to try the one closer by. Jackpot! I love this store. They have super-cute stuff, totally my style, and reasonable prices. I got a tank top, a sundress, and a pair of sandals.

On my way home I got an iced coffee to round out the day. Now I'm going to pretend to do some work for a few hours until Anne gets home. She went home this weekend, and I've been going through withdrawal. She texted saying she was going to need to unwind, so we have a hot couch date planned for tonight with homemade sangria and guacamole.

I've been alone most of the day, but I was at a BBQ with my sociology peeps last night (that resulted in not 1 but 2 more facebook friends - score!), so it was fine chillin' on my own. And with Anne coming back tonight, it just might be a perfect day.

Hope everyone had a great long weekend, maybe even a perfect day!