Give Me The Candy Or The Bunny Gets It

I was at Target last night wandering through the aisles of Easter candy. There was candy available in all variety and shapes of spring colors. Unfortunately, there were no Cadbury mini-eggs. The place was completely sold out with five days to go until Easter. Obviously, someone else shares my passion for mini-eggs. It's not like I haven't been completely successful in eating my weight in Cadbury mini-eggs this season. It's just that I want to know in case of an emergency, I can get some mini-eggs at a moment's notice.

Hubba Hubba Ding Ding

I went to a wedding in Palm Springs over the weekend. All of the trees and flowers in the desert were in full bloom and I got the mother of all allergy headaches on Saturday morning. I took all the drugs I could find and then hung out by the pool.

Mid afternoon, the Handsomest Man Alive (who was in the bridal party) had to get ready early for the official bridal photos. He started to lay his clothes out on the bed and discovered that he was missing his white shirt.

I was still wearing my bathing suit and cover-up when I went down to the parking garage with a valet to go over the car with a fine tooth comb to see if I could find the shirt. Backseat, trunk, under the seats...nope. The gift shop in the lobby only sold ties -- so Lenny, the nice valet who had by that time become my best friend -- drove me over to the nearby golf shop to see if I could get something there. I only had 45 minutes until my problem would become a photographic tragedy.

They had white shirts at the golf shoppe -- but it was a snazzy place and the cheapest one was $95. My other option was $128. and I didn't really even consider it an option. I told the snobby sales chick that those shirts were going to be 'my back-up plan' and I ran back out to the parking lot where Lenny was waiting for me in the golf cart.

Lenny floored it! -- top speed of 25 mph -- on our way over to another hotel. You can't believe how slow those golf carts are until you're trying to use one of them in an emergency. Hot tip: Never use a golf cart as a getaway car for a bank robbery -- you will get caught.

Anyway, Lenny pulled up front of a huge hotel and gave me instructions to run in and go to the left. It was as if he had been on this mission before. I found the men's shop and the white shirts to the left -- but nothing in the HMA's size. I begged the salesperson for help and she said she thought she had one in the back room. I saw her run into the backroom -- where she started tossing white shirts out of a brown box up into the air like she was celebrating New Year's Eve. She came running back triumphantly with the right size in hand. Forty bucks! Sold!

I ran out front and hopped in the back of the golf cart -- where Lenny shuttled me back to my original hotel at top speed -- not enough to even create a stir in the air. I honestly believe I could've made it back faster on foot, but at this point Lenny and I were a team.

Of course, I had no cash money on me -- and I apologized profusely to Lenny as I jumped out of the cart before it stopped rolling at our hotel and sprinted through the lobby. (Let me take this time to remind you that I was in my bathing suit and cover-up. So I'm sure it was quite a pretty picture.) I raced back to our room -- we were, of course, being housed in the back 40 acres of the resort. I made it back to the room with 10 minutes to spare before the official photo session began.

The HMA stopped by the valet stand on his way to the photos and slipped Lenny a big tip for his heroic performance. I guess Lenny was glad to see that the shirt had worked out. In my humble opinion, the HMA was also the best dressed man at the wedding. See photographic evidence above.

And They Call It Puppy Love

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Seems like everyone is shouting and screaming about something or other these days. Isn't it nice to know that there are people who are quietly taking care of those who can't take care of themselves? Yeah. Me too.

Paper Dolls For Dress Up

I'm going to a wedding. The Handsomest Man Alive is actually in the bridal party and he bought a new suit for the occasion. He looked so good when he was trying it on, I had a hard time keeping my hands off him. Seriously. And so I had a hard time trying to come up with "a look" that would match with his. I'm devoted to the bridal dress reality program, 'Say Yes To the Dress,' but I hate shopping. I come by it honestly, my mother develops terminal illnesses if she's forced to wander around  a mall for more than an hour. And so I was reduced to shopping online -- which is a lot easier than it used to be -- and for someone like me who spends eight hours parked in front of a computer  -- seriously practical. After emailing several different dresses around to several different email addresses and getting feedback from trusted associates, I selected the above option. I usually lean toward a little black dress. I live under the delusion that it makes me look slimmer, but the bridesmaids are wearing black.  I never wear blue. I though this blue was such an unusual and intriguing shade, I fell in love with it. Plus it will go good with purple -- which is my favorite color. I love getting my toenails painted purple. And I learned a new phrase during this shopping spree -- "age appropriate." I found it really difficult to find a dress to suit my age (and body) that wasn't too 'mother of the bride.' Ack! Getting hitched isn't easy for anyone -- even if you're just along for the ride.

Baa Baa Black Sheep

Turns out that Shepherd's Pie is made with ground lamb. If you make it with ground beef it's Cottage Pie. Who knew? I was merrily going about my bidness celebrating St. Patrick's Day when I figured out my error in judgment. I had purchased a package of Shepherd's pie seasoning a few weeks back. And when I went grocery shopping this week, I took it with me so I could pick up the ingredients to make the recipe on the back which called for '1 lb. mince.' I bought ground beef, thinking that I was oh-so clever to have deciphered the Brit-speak. How was I supposed to know that 'mince' was ground baby sheep? Do you think maybe because they call it Shepherd's pie? Hmmmm. Yes, the clue bus is a little late to pick up in my neighborhood. I didn't realize the error of my ways until I opened the 'sachet' and was overwhelmed by the smell of rosemary. And what goes best with rosemary...lamb. Ah, well. We had it with ground beef. There were no complaints. At least I remembered to serve it 'piping hot.' Next year maybe I'll try it with ground pork! Hmmmm....yes. And bacon!

From Glen To Glen

It's St. Patrick's Day! Do a little jig. Drink a green beer. Get down tonight!

Bitter and Lonely. Party Of One.

I've been sending out engraved invitations all day to a pity party. There is nothing more horrid than tossing feeling sorry for yourself. It's rude, unattractive and annoying to all involved. I think my tendency toward it is because I am a spoiled rotten only child all grown up. But I don't want to make excuses for it...I want to get past it. No. I want to stop it. When it happens, I try to make myself count my blessings -- write them down in a list on paper. That usually does the trick. But today, I was stuck. Fortunately, I had to search no further than my inbox to find a little something that made me smile and forget the engraved invitation I'd been sending out. Seriously. What's a party without a cake?