Tell You [a] Little Story

There's a new color invading these parts. This blue and green Gap girl, mother of boys, is a little overwhelmed by it all. Thank you, Sarah and Jami for the loveliest of showers. And thank you, dear friends--who may or may not read this blog but almost assuredly never make comments--for making me feel so loved and for your beautiful and generous and thoughtful gifts. And also for throwing me head first into Pink. I can't wait.

If it's your anniversary and you are going to dinner to celebrate, you are allowed--nay, required--to throw all caloric and budgetary caution to the wind and order appetizers and dessert. If your marriage has been a particularly happy one and your spouse is especially wonderful in every way, I suggest you order a dessert that parallels your marital bliss in greatness. If your years together have been really very quite good, please accept this humble recommendation: get the banana split at the Roaring Fork in Scottsdale, Arizona. Oh, man. It is the best EVER. It's so good that out of 85 blog posts, I've dedicated two to shouting its praises from the mountaintops. And if you're not married, or your spouse is a bum, call me and I will go there with you. Did I mention the banana split is excellent? Stephen is excellent, too. I'm sorry you can't all be married to him. He's the best. Happy anniversary, babe. I love you.

So I came from from getting the oil changed, buying a birthday present for my niece Hallie (always planning my gift-giving ahead), and picking up the overtired and grumpy kids from their second day of school to find a blinking light on my answering machine. It was Samuel L. Jackson. Here's what he had to say: Now you may know me from my roles in movies like Pulp Fiction , Star Wars and The Incredibles . But I'm here today to make sure you go see a movie that holds a special place in my heart. That's right! I'm talking about Snakes on a Plane . I know that sounds crazy, but I don't give a damn, because Snakes on a Plane just might be the best motion picture ever made. It's that good! So, listen up. On August 18th, forget about your regular job, doing all those household chores, and stop wasting all your free time obsessing over your kids! And for go[sh] sake, quit repainting your fingernails!! Just hop in that tin can you call a car, go get your brother Neil...

We were invited to a birthday party for today, 4 pm, at the "Train Park." We knew the family has a history of being late, so we didn't leave the house until 4:17. We arrived at the (hot, hot) park at 4:40. We walked around the whole gigantic park in the (hot, hot) heat looking for the party. We found no birthday party, but did run into a few other guests, so decided to play on the (hot, hot) playground for a few minutes and wait for the hosts/guest of honor to arrive. They arrived at 5:40, One Hour And Forty Minutes After They Told Me To Arrive. We stayed for another (hot, hot) hour to be gracious guests, then said something to the effect of being used to bithday parties that don't last much longer than 2 hours and we had to get home to Steve. The pinata and cake had still not arrived. Now, I know some Hispanic people like the all night celebratory affairs, and they all probably know that a party that starts at 4 o'clock doesn't really mean that people should ...

Early this summer, I was in a very minor fender bender. The damage was just substantial enough to warrant filing a claim with our insurance to get it fixed. It was supposed to take three working days. (I thought that was an excessively long time, and wasn't very pleased.) When the body shop took off the fender to replace it, they found extensive damage from an accident that occurred oh-so-long ago, before we bought the van. Three working days turned into three weeks. Or was it four? I lose track. We were real pioneer-like for that month. We shared a car for the duration. We endured extra fighting from the backseat because the kids had to sit side by side. At one particular point, our second vehicle was out of commission and we paid a pretty penny for a few days of a rental. How excited I was to get the call on Tuesday of this week that the van was finally ready to be picked up! Ahem. Our car, which operated beautifully B.B.S. (that's Before Body Shop), now has a couple of issue...

Tell me what you think about this .

On the first Halloween we were married, Steve and I went to see Morrissey at the Saltair Palace in Salt Lake. It was a bit of a freak show, as one might expect: costumes of all degrees of scariness. I wore open-toed shoes. What was I thinking? Ouch. This girl on the internet saw him a month previous in Toronto, but our impressions of the concert were similar: "On September 12th, 1997, my boyfriend and I saw Morrissey at Massey Hall in Toronto, Canada. This was the very first time either one of us had seen him live, sat on the third tier overlooking the stage. We're fans but not fanatical. We were both mezmerized but Brian more than I, every time I looked over at him, he had this silly grin on his face. Most of the songs were from his new album and unknown to us. It didn't matter that we couldn't sing along, we were watching a man we'd grown up with, we'd listened to, connected with in our own way and loved. After a 1/2 song encore when fans jumped on stage and ...