This Powdered Wig is Making Me Itch

As some of you may remember, I'm sort of at a career crossroads at the moment. While I still dream of becoming the female version of this guy, my fresh-outta-law school idealism has faded somewhat since childbirth. I made the decision to quit a job that I loved to stay home with Peach and later took a job that I hated so I could work from home and be with Olive. And I'm so glad I did both those things. But now that I have the opportunity to get back "in the game," I'm faced with a whole new set of variables in the family/work balancing act that so many of you are familiar with, too. I still want to fight the good fight (really, I do), but you've got to be WAY in it to win it, and after having spent the last four years with my head in a book (or database, as it were), I'm not sure I've got any hustle left in me. And I can't imagine giving up so much of the time I've been able to spend with Peach and Olive the past six years. BUT, there are such things as a mortgage and student loans and, oh, I don't know, college educations for my children, so I gotta do SOMEthing soon. Just what, I haven't figured out. I mean, do I even want to be a lawyer when I grow up? Hmmm ...

But rest assured, my friends. While I ponder this dilemma, I leave you in the very capable hands of one of my esteemed legal brethren.

He is legit, by the way. I checked. And please tell me you read the DWI facts.

Who's a Lucky Girl?

Moi. T-Bone made cookies today (yes, he cooks), and he saved me a little bowl of cookie dough in the icebox. Yum. It was just what I needed to take my mind off the bag of cat feces I just scooped from the litter box and took outside to the trash. Yep, it's all glamour around here.

I Have the Body of a Supermodel

Or so says Ms. Thang, who has "come under fire" for her recent weight gain. It seems that she and I are roughly the same height and weight, give or take (ahem), and she says she is healthy and happy and sexy, so there. Muffin top? Got it. Back fat? Of course. However, the beautiful face and HUGE (real) rack probably deflect attention from any alleged flaws, so I guess I'm SOL what with the crows' feet, age spots, and ninnies several letters smaller than hers. Me, jealous? Nah. In fact, I'm glad I didn't inherit the big boobs from my mom's family because the big booty I got from my dad's side is plenty to carry around, thank you. And on the plus side, I have relatively small feet (8-8.5) for a "big girl" - a term I say needs to be reserved for girls up until they are potty-trained, and after that, RETIRE that shit. Are you listening, America?! Anywho, no hard feelings Ms. Thang. Just gimme my own talk show or a rockin' weave, and we'll call it even.

Break Out the Hacky Sacks

Thank you, Jeebus for the sun and the 65 degrees and the NO RAIN today. Really. We are not cold weather people down here in the ATX. It just doesn't work for us. We like our nearly year-round patio dining and convertible driving weather, assuming we have patios and convertibles. And some of us, not me of course, actually like to run - for fun - in the hot, hot sun - and we can't do that when it's friggin' freezing outside. And there are only a few, a very few, nutcakes who will brave the icy waters to ski in weather like we've been having, so, let's just say winter's over, shall we? Enough is enough.

I drive through the park everyday to pick Peach up from GGMS, and today, it was swarming with happy joggers and dog people. And the patios of three of the restaurants I pass were full with drinkers and a few diners, all celebrating the return of the sun. And some dudes at one of those places were gearing up for a few rounds of hacky sack while they waited. I love this town.

The Market Report

After perusing my notes from this weekend's trip to the Dallas Market Center, I have to ask: What is it with you people and your obsession with red coral? Really - how many red coral throw pillows, rugs, and other objets d'crap do you need in your house? Apparently, quite a few. Last time, it was wine. This time it was Red. Coral. Everywhere. I swear I felt like I had sand in my crack when it was all over with.

This was our last big trip to Market as Mama Turista is literally closing up shop this summer after 20+ years in the retail game. She will continue to work her incredible design magic but is thrilled to leave the day-to-day headaches of small business ownership behind her. God love her - I don't know how she put up with the general public and their asinine questions for that long. And sorting through the crap people continue to churn out or import in and offer up for her to sell. Fourteen floors of it in the World Trade Center alone.

Over the years, I've always made up little games to pass the time and/or stave off insanity on our trips to Market. Past fun includes: Count the stirrup pants tucked into flats; Count the broom skirts worn with tennis shoes; Complete a herd from the animal prints found or worn in each showroom; Feign extreme interest in the cheesiest thing in the showroom and try to get others to buy it; Spot the gay designer/rich and clueless buyer team in each showroom; Find the best snacks; Find the best mimosas; and Find the best free giveaways.

This year's winner in the last category was the free pen found in a really snooty furniture showroom. They had them placed in a few strategic places, and while the other showrooms gladly offer free food, drinks, and enough tote bags to smother a horse, THIS particular showroom was quite fond of their pens and thus quite stingy about giving them away. I casually grabbed a couple on the way out on our first pass through there, after which I saw this overgrown sorority girl/sales rep CHASE down the lady in front me, saying, "Ma'am! The pens are for buyers who place orders only!" And then she took the pen back!

SO ... the gauntlet was thrown down, and I picked it up and hurled it at that bitch and her Burberry headband. The next day, I made it my personal mission to get as many of those GD pens as I could WITHOUT placing an order. I walked around the showroom, acting like I gave a crap about their hideous furniture, and faked like I was writing down a bunch of SKU numbers. That bitch was on the prowl, as were her robotic minions, but I managed to elude and confuse them long enough to come out of there with the mother lode of those GD pens. I even took the one off the check-out desk four times. I'd see one of the robots put one up there, then I'd slide by and get it, and she'd look up, bewildered, and put out another one. Repeat. Four times. I was SO sly that Burberry headband actually came up and ASKED me if I would like a pen. I said "Yes. But I need one for my partner, too."

After that little exchange, I could hide my glee no more, and I hightailed it out of there before I peed in my pants. Behold, my treasure trove:

Total count: 14. In 15 minutes. And check out how big these GD pens are:

See my mad skills? And they're AWESOME pens. You can see I like grippy things on my pens, so that really raised the stakes. I did get some odd looks as my purse passed through the xray thing at the airport - I'm sure it looked like I was going to inject the whole plane with monkey flu or that I had some kind of hard core insulin dependency, when, in reality, I'm just a highly competitive pen snatcher. Take that, Burberry headband.