I was on my way home from work early. I wanted to watch the Redsox/yanks game. I ended up being more than an hour late & was sort of...how should I say it?...discombobulated as I got closer to home. I was so out of it...that I didn't seem to notice Mr. Cop Man turn around in the middle of the road & follow me for a few blocks before turning on his flashers & trying to pull my ass right on over.

I pulled over after what I thought was blocks of bliss (because I didn't know he was back there thinking bad thoughts about an innocent citizen such as myself). This nice blond cop scanned his flashlight over the contents of my car & me. He asked if I knew why he'd stopped me...I said...nope...& he said...well...darlin' ( he called me darlin'...there was some hope here after all)...well...darlin' he said...you've got a tail light that's not working, did you know that? How the hell would I know that? Really? No...I said...I wasn't aware of that fact...but thanks for telling me (big smile...think he let me go?).

Nope...not so fast...he took my info & made me wait while he ran it through the cop checker computer. He came back to tell me that he really should write me up for this...because I'd had a few recent infractions & that ain't good. Why one thing has anything to do with the other is beyond me...but he was a cop...so I refrained from saying...whatever.

I let him enjoy admonishing me for speeding in the past & even said thanks (for what I do not know)...he let me go on my merry way & I went home & caught part of my game...if you could call it a game.

The lovely Gusgreeper enlightened me on the power of John Fluevog shoes. I clicked on the site & haven't floated down to earth yet. Wow. These shoes seem to be the exact polar opposite of boring. Look at 'em! They appeal to my vintage loving soul while at the same time amusing the silly, cartoon-like guts inside of me.

I'll quote the guy too (read it out loud in a Peewee Herman voice...it's more effective that way...seriously, it just is):

"John has always seen himself as more than a Canadian shoe designer: "I'm an armchair philosopher, & artist & a style monger, my shoes & messages are quite simply a part of me." Make of them what you will - love 'em or leave 'em, they're just gonna keep on coming"

There's even a section of the site for submitting your own designs. I think I have to come up with something...because I'm inspired by these damn shoes...so, why the hell not?? Also...get this...they name them after you if they choose your design...talk about cool & insane immortality...damn...Chicky needs to get her name on some styling, well made, quality shoes (but don't we all?).

I wasn't going to post anything about the horrific events that happened recently at Virginia Tech. I really wasn't.

Do you ever feel like you're surprised that these awful things don't happen even more often than they do? I felt cold & hardened that I sort of felt that way. I wanted to cry, but couldn't. How could evil build up in someone so uncontrollably? The media kept saying things like, the shooter was "troubled" & he had "issues with people". I wanted to scream.

They played what they called his "manifesto" constantly on TV. I'm all for free speech...but where is the sense in playing the rantings of a lost, crazy, self-important, soon to be monster on network TV?

I finally cried after seeing a tribute to one of the victims. Her name was Julia Pride. Her friends had gathered for a candlelight ceremony in a field on Friday. She was a 23 year old grad. student studying environmental engineering. Her friend got up to talk about how Julia had cared about the environment, she spoke beautifully about her friend & just as she was ending she said, "please, please don't leave your plastic cups or candles on the field. Throw them away. That's what Julia would have wanted."

It really wasn't what her friend said that made me cry...it was how she said it...sort of a cross between choking up with tears & a bit of laughter at asking people to clean up after themselves because her friend would have loved that...laughter through tears...that's a hopeful thing, right?

Ever watch Take Home Chef on the TLC channel? They ran a marathon of back to back to back shows the other night. I was in a food induced haze of great recipes & witty Australian humor (or is it humour?).

For the uninitiated...the premise of the show is simple: this wonderfully tall, charming Australian bloke walks up to an unsuspecting woman (who's usually on the hot side) & asks if she's cooking for someone special that night, she always says yes & then he offers to come home with her & cook her & her special someone a fabulous meal & pay for all her groceries AND she gets to help.

This man is a smarty too...he usually makes a pit stop at some restaurant supply place to pick up a present for the chick (& what girlie is not a complete sucker for a man baring gifts?).

He gets to the hottie's house & takes over her kitchen (another tip...if a man did this for me...I'd do exactly what the girls on the show do), the hottie chick then goes & changes into a more formal & oddly enough...usually cleavage baring outfit.

Then they prepare a sumptuous dinner & wait to ambush Mr. Boyfriend when he finally shows up. Along the way, Mr. Hot Australian says things like..."ok...grab your breast"...they were cooking duck BTW...then he turns slightly red & says "did I just say that?"

How can you not love a who picks up a cute woman at the store...finds out that she's Jewish & keeps a kosher kitchen, then asks her if she eats pork...when she says no...he says, "you mean you don't eat pigs...but say fuck you to the cows?"

Watch it...seems to have a little bit of something for everyone.

I amused myself to an absurd degree today with Flickr:




Random photos from this weekend.

I bought these shoes last Saturday. I walked around the store for half an hour in them. They are half a size too big. They kept slipping off my heel. I'll stuff the toes...I thought. You have to improvise when you wear an unpopular size (if anyone finds beautiful shoes in a size 5...feel free to send them my way...or at the very least...let me know where they are hiding). Unfortunately, stuffing the toes turned out to be a stupid idea...want to know why? Look at 'em...there's no toe to stuff.

I wore them on Easter & nearly killed myself. With every step I took...slip, pop, slide...damn shoes kept coming off.

Next time I wear them...I have to be prepared & buy those sticky heel pad things...yeah, maybe that will work.

It's painful...I know...& I'm not talking about the shoes here...sorry for this lame-o post...it was all I had this Friday.

Easter at the sis's house was fun.

On the menu for the day's activities was:

Fighting with brother-inlaw about watching golf, the Mets or the yanks (hint...I wanted to watch the one that wasn't sort of like watching paint dry slowly).

Air kissing her in-laws with a smile.

Getting a makeover by a 5 year old using all the spare glitter in the universe (I looked smashing...like I'd had a collision with a disco ball...I told her this & she said..."what's a collision?"...then she thought for a bit & decided that it was ok to admit to not knowing what a disco ball was either).

Eating dinner perched on a folding chair the size of one butt check...shoved between my 14 year old nephew & his thousand year old grandmother (as the food was being passed around the table...I'd get quick whiffs of lamb, then Jean Nate from granny, then green beans, then boy sweat from my nephew).

Bro-in-law's sister went from tipsy to flat out plastered in 2 seconds flat (truly, I haven't seen drunk come on that fast since high school...it was fascinating to watch her pour herself a glass of white wine...& when I say pour...I mean all the way to the top...her glass was so full that she couldn't actually pick it up to bring it to her lips, her mouth had to come to the glass & slurp from it as it sat on the table...)

...dying I tell you...I was dying.

I was in the middle of a conversation with a bunch of people that I don't know that well. The topic came around to women & weight & why we are never happy. There were 3 of us involved in this official state matter (other than me...we had a guy & a girl squawking here)...the guy said something along the lines of liking a little meat on the bones...so appetizing (if he went as far as the whole meat reference as to talk about white meat or dark...I was leaving)...the woman said she'd like to lose a few pounds...I said...why are we never happy? & the guy said something that sounded like it had the word curvy in it...I can't be sure...because I may have blacked out for a sec...was that directed at me? The woman was smiling & nodding & pointing to my ass (just kidding...I was still dizzy at that point)...he didn't back down either...I must have stood there with a blank look on my face for just a split second too long...because he said...don't look at me like that...curvy's a good thing in my book (I want a copy of his book).

It's funny, I had a friend in school who'd say silly things like she never wanted to get breasts...she just didn't want the fuss or attention. Now she says things like...be careful what you wish for. She is flat as a board...I swear...her chest sinks in where her girlies should be...still makes me laugh...I think she may have wanted a little something...

I guess I'll take curvy over pancake flatness.

Let me ask you this...

What do you think of the word...

Curvy?

Is it a good thing?

Details to follow.

"The trouble with baseball is that it is not played the year round." ~ Gaylord Perry

"People ask me what I do in winter when there's no baseball. I'll tell you what I do. I stare out the window and wait for spring." ~ Rogers Hornsby

"Baseball is almost the only orderly thing in a very unorderly world. If you get three strikes, even the best lawyer in the world can't get you off." ~ Bill Veeck

A baseball game is simply a nervous breakdown divided into nine innings. ~Earl Wilson

I'm sooo glad that a new season of baseball has finally started...even though my team pretty much forgot to actually show up yesterday (1 run...in the 1st inning?! what the hell?!) Schilling kept walking 'em & that is just not like him at all. Then in the 6th...our new reliever threw his 1st pitch in the majors & let up a homer...I know it's only the 1st game of a long season...but still...I wanted to see SOMETHING from them in their 1st game.

Alas...it wasn't meant to be.

OK...if baseball doesn't do it for you...what does RIGHT NOW?