tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-89794216207083982292024-03-13T08:15:52.463-07:0097 THINGS TO DO BEFORE I TURN 97It has been brought to my attention that there are 97 things I forgot to do before I finished high school. So now here's my chance to make up for lost time.
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Uh, like A LOT of lost time.Sparkleneelyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16227120176940674448noreply@blogger.comBlogger94125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8979421620708398229.post-27865678582388445062012-11-19T12:30:00.000-08:002012-11-19T13:32:03.197-08:00Reading Round-Up -- Yee Haw!Hey everyone! Yes, I'm busy Accomplishing all sorts of things, just not on the list. For example, I did FOUR loads of laundry and mopped the bathroom floor. I know, STEP BACK! I'm a powerhouse MACHINE!<br />
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Anyhoo, it's almost time for one of my favorite holidays: SMALL BUSINESS SATURDAY. On November 24th, the day after "Black Friday" and right before "Cyber Monday," people are encouraged to shop their local independent brick and mortar stores, and help their communities thrive. Did you know that for every $100 spent at a locally-owned, independent business, $68 stays in the local economy compared to only $43 if spent at a national chain? And I don't know what the stats are for online (I should), but I know it's much worse. <br />
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This is actually sponsored by AMEX, and you can get credit for spending at participating local stores. I don't know that much about it (I don't have an AMEX card), but I found a link to a blog that has more info:<a href="http://boardingarea.com/blogs/mommypoints/2012/11/07/mark-your-calendars-small-business-saturday-registration-opens-1118/.%20%20">http://boardingarea.com/blogs/mommypoints/2012/11/07/mark-your-calendars-small-business-saturday-registration-opens-1118/. </a>And then, of course there is the 3/50 Project which I love and is still gaining traction: pick 3 shops you want to support, spend $50. If that's too much, just do what you can. More info on their facebook page: <a href="http://www.facebook.com/The350Project" target="_blank">http://www.facebook.com/The350Project</a>.<br />
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As you all know, I'm a big fan of independent bookstores, so I'll be spending part of my Small Business Saturday at one or two of them and showing them some love. And since I've been asked lately to do another "round-up" of book recommendations, here's a list you can bring with you to your local indie and show them some love, too!<br />
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<b>Gone Girl by Gillian Flynn.</b> Oh. My. God. Of any book I've read this year, this one had me the most HOOKED. I could not put it down. And, apparently, neither could nearly everyone else I knew who has read it. I was on an airplane, and the flight attendant stopped her drink orders and said, "OH MY GOD. WHAT PART ARE YOU ON?" "I just finished the part where ---- --- -- --- ----" and she said, "JUST WAIT. OH MY GOD, JUST WAIT." Considering most flight attendants just ignore me or sullenly hand me my Diet Coke, I took this as a sign. THIS BOOK WAS GENIUS. And that is all I'm going to say -- you need to get this for yourself. (Pick up her others as well, especially if you've read <i>Gone Gir</i>l already.)<br />
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<b>Lamb by Christopher Moore</b>. Okay, I lied. <i>Gone Girl</i> wasn't the only book that had me hooked in the past few months -- this one did, too. And what's funny -- this book had been recommended to me for years, but I always avoided it. I didn't really know what it was about, but I didn't want to read anything that was overtly religious, and even worse, gratuitously sacrilegious. I was SO wrong, SO SO wrong. My boyfriend said the night before I was leaving for a trip to NYC, "Look, I love this book. Take this on your trip and try it." I sighed, resigned, and agreed. And I read it the whole way there. And that night, with Manhattan twinkling below my hotel room and beckoning me to be a part of it, I stayed in and ordered room service and read. Happily. It's brilliant and hysterical and I LOVED it. And shhhh... this may be sacrilegious in itself, but it rivals <i>Owen Meany</i> for me. (<a href="http://97thingstodobeforeiturn97.blogspot.com/2009/11/back-on-my-soapbox.html" target="_blank">And we all know how much I love Owen Meany.</a>)<br />
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<b>Where'd You Go, Bernadette by Maria Semple.</b> And still on the funny theme... This is what I loved about this book: I never knew where it was going to go. Having been a creative writing major, I'm pretty good at getting into the craft of novels -- formulas and twists and all that. I even guessed the twists of "The Usual Suspects" AND "The Crying Game," so I'm kind of a pro. (And kind of annoying.) There are laugh-out-loud scenes, and she captures the Seattle lifestyle well, from what I gather. I gobbled this one up, and you will, too.<br />
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<b>Memoirs of an Imaginary Friend by Matthew Dicks</b>. On the same day I got <i>Bernadette</i>, I stopped in at one of my favorite bookstores in the country, <a href="http://www.parnassusbooks.net/" target="_blank">Parnassus Books</a> in Nashville, TN. Oh, I love that store. It's bright and warm and cheery and being in there elevates your mood 1000%. And oh, that heavenly smell of new books... Why can't they bottle that scent? Anyway, I was talking to one of the fantastic booksellers there, and asked her if she had any recommendations. She led me to the shelf, picked up this book, and hugged it to her chest, professing her love for it. OKAY, SOLD. Any book that a passionate bookseller hugs is good with me. (And I would know -- I did the same thing back in my bookseller days.) I read it in my hotel room and cried. It's pretty sentimental (I can see Pixar making the movie), but sometimes that's just what the bookseller ordered. The cover's not pretty, but don't judge. Well, this one, anyway. (See below. I do it, too.)<br />
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<b> The Patron Saint of Liars by Ann Patchett</b>. Okay, remember that bookstore I was talking about above? Parnassus? Yeah, this is the co-owner of that bookstore. And she's incredible. I had a professor in grad school that I didn't like, and she was a big Ann Patchett fan. So, since I didn't like this professor, I didn't read Ann Patchett. My God, what a huge mistake. (The reading Ann Patchett part. I still don't care for this professor.) I feel like I missed out, but at the same time, I feel like I've discovered a "new" author and am looking forward to more. I love that feeling! I started off with this, her debut novel. It's one of the most beautiful first novels I've ever read. Sigh. To be that talented and to be THIS AWESOME: <a href="http://www.colbertnation.com/the-colbert-report-videos/408775/february-20-2012/ann-patchett" target="_blank">Ann Patchett on The Colbert Report</a> ... She is leading the way in the fight for brick-and-mortar bookstores, which makes her my absolute hero.<br />
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<b>Eli the Good by Silas House.</b> Other heroes of mine are our sales reps to independent bookstores -- I value their judgement completely, and I know if they recommend a book, it's going to be good. Especially our Southern territory reps -- they know that I love Southern literature, so when they tell me they love something after aaaaalll they have to read for all their publishers, I know it's something special. <i>Eli the Good</i> is exactly that. Set in 1976, this book evokes that time and the summer of the bicentennial but not in a nostalgic, campy way, but a real and true heartbreaking way. It's being marketed as a Young Adult book, but I wholly disagree. While Eli is a 10-year-old narrator, the themes are sophisticated. NOT that YA books can't be sophisticated, but this book beautifully breaks the golden rules of the YA formula. I feel the same way when I read that <i>To Kill a Mockingbird</i> is considered YA because Scout is a child protagonist -- NO. <i>Eli the Good</i> shouldn't be pigeonholed into the YA genre (and I am NOT in any way disparaging that genre because I love it) -- this book is for all ages.<br />
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<b>Revolution by Jennifer Donnelly. </b>Ahhh... Speaking of YA, here is a YA novel that I really loved. There's a lot more to teen books than vampires and dystopian futures and bitchy girls in private schools, and this is a shining example of why Young Adult Fiction RULES. It's the story of entwined lives in modern day and during The French Revolution... And it <i>works</i>. The feelings and language are so real and captivating, and to use that old cliche -- it's a page turner. I loved this book so much that I'm going to share a kind of embarrassing story: Right after I got this book, I was out running errands and it was in my car. I was hungry, so I decided to just go through a drive-through, eat quickly, and finish everything I had to do that day. So I got my food, opened the book to read while I was eating... And two hours later I looked up and realized what had happened. I sat in the stupid Wendy's parking lot for 2 hours, completely enthralled, and never got my errands done. And you know what? It was totally worth it. I loved it so much that I wanted to write the author an email to tell her, but I never did. But I LIKED her on Facebook, so there's that.<br />
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<b>The Wilder Life by Wendy McClure</b>. Okay, this is an author I <i>did</i> email to tell her how much I loved her book. I wasn't even finished with it yet and I had to tell her that I kept squealing, "YES!" as I read. I was a HUGE fan of the <i>Little House</i> books growing up -- I read them over and over again (well, not <i>Farmer Boy</i> -- that was about a BOY) and would stare and stare at the Garth Williams illustrations. The pig bladder balloon! The maple syrup candy on pans of ice! The little cave house on the banks of Plum Creek! BLIND MARY AND A KITTEN! My God, I wanted to wear a bonnet, churn butter, and slap a bear on the nose. And so did Wendy McClure (longtime BUST "Pop Tart" columnist), and she took a pilgrimage to all of Laura Ingalls Wilder's homes and sites. I <i>loved</i> it. So when I had a chance to meet her at a book convention, I gushed like a creepy stalker fan. But instead of calling the cops, we shared lunch, and when she came to California I got to see her and go to her reading and wear a bonnet. She's awesome, and so is this and her first book, <i>I'm Not the New Me</i>. Get them both.<br />
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<b>A Tree Grows in Brooklyn by Betty Smith.</b> Another one I loved when I was younger, and for some reason I've been thinking so much about Francie and Neeley and Johnny and Kate lately. I guess it's my reality check -- when I'm distressed about money, lamenting about how broke I am, I think of this book and it puts things in perspective, and how this family persevered. Yeah, yeah, it's one of those "triumph of the human spirit" books, but it's <i>so</i> good. The coffee scene has always stayed with me, and I still get a small thrill when I think of it. And whenever I hear The Pogues' "Fairytale of New York" I think of this book, too. A definite classic, and we all need to read more classics, right? Start with this one.<br />
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<b> The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle by Haruki Murakami.</b> Another classic, or destined to be. (If you haven't read this or <i>Lolita</i> by Nabokov by now, you really have to.) I must admit, I didn't read this book for YEARS. Remember when Friendster (R.I.P) was all popular, and you could list your books you liked? This book was the most popular hipster book on there. Every single hipster that had ever logged into the internet loved this book (or claimed to). So me, being the jerk who sniffs at things like that, steadfastly refused to read any Murakami. (There seems to be a theme of this with this Round-Up: "Books Karen Avoided and Was REALLY, REALLY Stupid for Doing So.") But when Jon and I moved, all my books were packed away and his weren't, and I was desperate for something to read. I pulled Murakami off his shelf, admired the pretty cover, and started reading. And didn't stop until I had read nearly all of Murakami's books. This one was my favorite (of course), and long story short: maybe I should take hipsters a little more seriously. Ha. Ha. <br />
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<b>Life of Pi by Yann Martel.</b> Here's another one I saw in the bookstores forever and never picked up. But a few months ago, I got really sick. I never get sick, and this sick sucked. But do you know what doesn't suck about being sick? Having beloved friends drop off bags of their beloved books (and soup and hot toddies) at your house to keep you entertained and on the mend. I read some great books while I was sick, and some not so great but definitely lurid (hello,<i> </i><a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2012/01/29/fashion/scotty-bowers-and-his-sexual-tell-all-of-old-hollywood.html?pagewanted=all" target="_blank"><i>Full Service</i> by Scotty Bowers</a>), but this book, <i>Life of Pi</i>, was my favorite. When I finished it, I wasn't just blowing my nose and wiping my eyes because I had the flu, let's just put it that way. I can't imagine how it will work as a movie, but I can't wait to see it. And read it now before the movie comes out!<br />
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<b>The Paris Wife by Paula McLain.</b> Okay, this is not a book that I avoided -- my God, LOOK at that cover. It's gorgeous! TOTALLY and ABSOLUTELY historically inaccurate and wrong for the time in which the book is set, but still. And if you know me at all, you know I love Paris in the 1920's and all the ex-pats, and I've always been fascinated with poor Hadley Hemingway, the starter wife of that jerk, Ernest. (And mother to Bumby. BUMBY!) And I wasn't disappointed -- I enjoyed it. And sadly, I could relate a lot to poor Hadley. But this book truly captures the time period... And my God. LOOK at that cover!<br />
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<b>The Chaperone by Laura Moriarty</b>. Okay, fine, this is another one I bought for the cover. Hello, Louise Brooks? You can put Louise Brooks on a packet of headcheese and I'd eat it. But it was good! I mean, any time an author appropriates the history of a famous person's life there's bound to be skepticism and a bit of cheeze, but I do think that Ms. Moriarty did her homework. And Louise Brooks isn't the star per se -- the main character is, indeed, her chaperone on a trip to New York, Cora Carlisle. On the surface she seems like a proper Kansas City matron, when in fact she has secrets of her own. And actually, a budding early feminist. If you want to read more about Louise Brooks, read her well written and sassy memoir <i>Lulu in Hollywood</i>, or the excellent biography by Barry Paris. But if you want a terrific read, perfect for vacation and the holidays, <i>The Chaperone</i> is a great choice. (And people will admire the cover as you read. Can't get that experience on an e-reader!)<br />
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<b>How to be a Woman by Caitlin Moran.</b> I have a kind of silly criteria, but one in which I firmly believe: I tend to judge famous people on whether or not I would like to have dinner with them. As for Caitlin Moran, I want to sit next to her at a dinner party, talking about people's outfits, music, books, and stealing sips from a hidden flask. So, basically, I LOVE HER. I'd heard about this book and was excited to read it, and after I got past the very British colloquialisms and slang, I plowed through it, loving the ride. She is so refreshing, and a new voice for feminism which I think is so desperately needed. After all the election brouhaha, and seeing many young women in the past few years claim that they aren't feminists, it has been making me (and my friends) think that there needs to be a bit of an overhaul for the movement -- we can't have scary, angry women frightening these young women away. The anger is good, but it's time for change. (Cue Peter Brady.) Caitlin Moran puts it simply: <i>“Do you have a vagina?” she writes. “Do you want to be in charge of it?”
If you said yes to both, “Congratulations! You’re a feminist.” </i>She's fun, she's funny,<i> </i>and totally herself. And what I loved was that she doesn't cry "sisterhood" -- she says that you don't HAVE to like someone because they're a woman. THANK YOU. (And I'm hoping that she will be responsible for the decrease in Brazilian waxes.) In any case, I loved this book and her, so please, check it out. (Men, too!)<br />
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<b>Better Than Fiction by Lonely Planet.</b> Okay, yes, I'm a bit biased. But this anthology is fantastic! Joyce Carole Oates, Isabelle Allende, Tea Obrecht, Alexander McCall Smith... Top notch fiction writers writing about a favorite subject: travel. I love anthologies, and this is a great one to read on vacation or for giving to the jetsetter in your life. Perfect for reading in short spurts or cover to cover. And pssst... Lonely Planet has a lot of great books out this season. Don't overlook the Travel section in your bookstore -- there are wonderful treasures to be found, and tons of inspiration to be had!<br />
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So, there's my list. (And there's <a href="http://97thingstodobeforeiturn97.blogspot.com/2012/01/happy-new-year-and-fabulous-giveaway.html" target="_blank">this list</a> and <a href="http://97thingstodobeforeiturn97.blogspot.com/2009/11/back-on-my-soapbox.html" target="_blank">this list</a>, too.) I hope you all will be able to use it, and see something you like. Every single time I go into a bookstore or record store, all my thoughts of what I want fly straight out of my head. (It happened to me while writing this blog entry, too -- I know I read many more fantastic books this year, but I drew some blanks. Though I think I got enough in this post, hmmm?) So having a list makes it easier, but keep yourself open to browsing, too. Sometimes that's how you find the true gems... And listen to those booksellers. THEY ARE TRAINED PROFESSIONALS.<br />
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And please, send me YOUR recommendations, because I need to know what to get next Saturday, too! Anything you've read and loved lately?<br />
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So next Saturday, please frequent your local independent bookseller, and your mom and pop/ small business stores in your town. And I beg you, implore you, get on my knees to plead with you: please reconsider buying things from Amazon. Yes, they're cheap. Yes, it's great to be lazy and shop from bed. Yes, it's all right there. And you know what won't be? Your local stores. Welcome to Walmart-ville. Look, I understand, and maybe you can't find everything locally, and you need Amazon to get those hard to find gifts. If you must do that, okay, but please think of Amazon as a last resort. Together we can help to strengthen our communities, but we have to leave the house to do it. That's easy, right? Right? RIGHT! And if you don't want to or can't leave the house, here is a fantastic site where you CAN shop from your local indie bookseller from the comfort of your own couch: <a href="http://www.indiebound.org/" target="_blank">http://www.indiebound.org/</a> <br />
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But! If you love your e-reader, (or was looking to buy one), let me recommend this -- <a href="http://www.kobobooks.com/touch" target="_blank">The Kobo.</a>. It will work with independent stores' platforms, so you can give them some love instead of the Amazon with The Kindle. Plus it's supposed to be fantastic. Maybe even someday I might break down and buy one, but I'm not ready yet. I just had to clear out and condense an entire bookcase and my heart was being ripped in two... But it healed again nicely when I gave all those books to friends and saw how happy they were. I love lending and giving books, and I can't do that with an e-reader.<br />
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So anyway, have a wonderful holiday, and may you get lots Accomplished and lots read! I have a lot to be thankful for, and independent booksellers and all of YOU are on that list. Gobble gobble! <br />
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xoxoxo Sparkleneelyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16227120176940674448noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8979421620708398229.post-17667693621278189692012-09-02T08:19:00.000-07:002012-09-02T08:43:13.005-07:00Accomplishment #43: Enter a Sports Competition (#34)If you know me at all (and even if you don't, you could probably guess), I'm not much of a sports person. I was the stereotypical "picked last for the team" in elementary school, and would sit in the outfield, picking at the crabgrass and watching disinterestedly as a ball would come near me. I swam in the summer but couldn't fathom getting up at 5 for Swim Team practice; I played tennis and was okay unless I had to hit the ball back to someone. (Hey, I had a good serve!) I hated P.E. in high school so much that when I learned you could get credits for it by being in the marching band, I signed up -- despite the social stigma and the fact that I could not play an instrument. (Talk about social stigma -- my friend and I, and our lack of talent, annoyed the "band geeks" so much that even THEY hated us.) It was TOTALLY worth it to never have to change into shorts and run around a football field EVER AGAIN. To this day when people want to go to the gym or play baseball or go running, I assume that they had much better P.E. teachers than I did, or were better at kicking balls.<br />
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However, when I got to college, P.E. was kind of ridiculous. General P.E. was run by one of the coaches for some team or another, and he didn't know who anyone was so we all got A's. Nice! Then I took tennis, slept through most of it, and managed a C thanks to that serve. (I told you.) And then, senior year, I fulfilled my last P.E. requirement: BOWLING.<br />
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Bowling! A sport where you could drink and smoke (back then) at the same time, and most of that time you're sitting and drinking and smoking! That's what our teacher, Nanci, did anyway. She was about 100 years old, had short frosted hair, wore giant tee shirts tied fashionably at the waist with patterned leggings, and smoked those long, brown cigarettes. I think she lived at the bowling alley.<br />
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Bowling was great because for the first time I wasn't necessarily worse than anyone else -- everyone was fairly bad except one kid whose license plate said "SHEFTY" so that's what we called him. He didn't put his fingers in the holes of the ball; he'd slide the ball down the lane and it would hook and curve and he'd get strikes. I was fascinated, but whenever I tried to do that, I'd get a gutterball -- though it wasn't much different than any other time I tried any other way. In the end I got an A and felt like I got away with something. It was a sport that was fun, even if I sucked at it. Plus it was a good excuse to wear my Seagram's bowling shirt I'd found in a thrift shop. <br />
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Over the years I still went bowling, bragging to everyone that I took bowling in college. Of course they assumed that meant I was good, but they figured out quickly that even with professional training I was still lucky if I got a strike. For a few years a group of us would get together and bowl -- mostly because we could wear our thrifted bowling shirts and drink -- the bowling was secondary. We would even go to different bowling alleys in the area (most of which are sadly long gone), and even took trips to Reno and Tahoe to bowl. (And drink. And gamble.) We never joined a league -- it was just fun to get together and hang out. Yet despite all that, all those hours spent hurling balls down many lanes, I never got any better it. But it was really fun.<br />
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A few months ago, I was emailing with my beloved friend and old roommate, Marcia, and we decided to meet somewhere (in person -- what a novel idea!), and decided to go bowling -- more fun than just lunch or shopping or whatever. It was great -- we got caught up, and as we were leaving, we saw a flyer for the summer leagues. Called "The Groove League," it was 2 months long, every Monday night, and included in the $16 fee was shoe rental, pizza, and a pitcher of soda -- and black lights and music videos. The flyer had pictures of bowling pins and pizza on it, and just looked so <i>earnest</i>. It sounded so goofy and fun that we decided to do it -- but we needed to find two other people for our team.<br />
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I had two ladies in mind that I thought would be perfect, down to the fact that the four of us all wear vintage cat-eye glasses. One was my friend Shona, whom I adore. I'm in a supper club called Les Dames aux Gateaux with her --every month, a group of smart, lovely and most fabulous ladies get all gussied up and go to old restaurants. (It's pretty much the best thing ever, and I'm still thrilled and honored I was asked to join.) Shona, the founder Baby Doe, and I even took a field trip to L.A. and went to Phyllis Diller's house and Richard Simmons' aerobics class! (Doe and I didn't do it, but Shona did.) Those are all stories for another time, but I knew that Shona would totally get into the bowling league idea -- she's fun and fabulous like that and up for anything. I was totally right.<br />
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The other prospective team member was my newest friend, Moe. We "met" online because we had mutual Facebook friends, and then met in person at a Nancy Drew reading at a local bookstore. (Um, could anything be better than that?) I thought she was one of the funniest people I had ever met: quick, witty, and genuinely awesome. I loved our online interactions -- we spent hours picking out hobo names for ourselves, and I laughed until I cried. Still, I was worried that since I didn't know her well, she would think I was super weird if I asked her to join a bowling league. But she said yes right away. I guess my fears were unfounded -- after all, there's some heavy bonding, and a touch of good weirdness, when two people spend hours picking out hobo names.<br />
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Most of all, I was sure that all of us would totally get along. Shona and Moe went to the same high school but hadn't seen one another in years, but reunited at a Tupperware Party at my house. (I know, I know. We sound like we stepped out of 1962 with that statement.) And I knew that they both would love Marcia and her quirky sense of humor as much as I do, and vice versa, and that we would all laugh a lot. I was even betting that we'd even have more fun than these ladies.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>RUBY THE FLAPPER!?!?</i></td></tr>
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The first night, Marcia, Moe and I met up along with all the other league members in the bowling alley bar (Shona couldn't make it), and before the meeting started, Marcia pulled out a notebook with a list of names. Oh, I wish I had that list because it was GENIUS. Everything from "The Happy Hookers," to Strikes on a Plane" to a nod to Ida Blankenship from "Mad Men." But we decided on "The Gutter Gals," because we knew it would be apt. And minutes later I knew that Moe and Marcia would love one another. We were handed a piece of paper detailing the rules, but it had printed funny, and the first letters of words from each column had been truncated. "What's an 'andicap?'" I said, joking. "It's when we get drunk and go home and beat our wives," Moe quipped, and the three of us started crying from laughing so hard, and started Googling Andy Capp's wife's name. I knew that this would be magical. The Gutter Gals were officially Official!<br />
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Meet The Gutter Gals!<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Marcia</i></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i> Moe</i></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Shona</i></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Karen</i></td></tr>
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And sure enough, it was magical. By the second week, when Shona joined us, half of the people who signed up had dropped out, so that left the league with only three teams: "The Blues," "HIGH OCTANE," and The Gutter Gals. We could tell that Mike, the secretary, was bummed at the low turnout, but we were delighted. Inside jokes were instantly established, our favorite pizza was chosen, and after a couple of bumpy weeks playing contemporary hip hop, they abandoned the videos and started playing 80's music along with the disco lights which we definitely preferred. So not only did we bowl, we danced to Rick Astley, Genesis and Whitesnake.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Moe rocks out to Whitesnake</i></td></tr>
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The first order of business was to buy matching socks from the vending machine:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyz7RuVps5pFOcd_XAZSSXlsYvhvxN1FduO8UCP4h4ja04UpYR8E80VWzeig3l1Qst9B0fJQuGiQYF25BFLyuneOQBwQa9FpJIkh5o6bz2rr-EJdkQ_jsYXW2F4bgNM9qgehEcN0YD9lZ8/s1600/IMG_0976.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyz7RuVps5pFOcd_XAZSSXlsYvhvxN1FduO8UCP4h4ja04UpYR8E80VWzeig3l1Qst9B0fJQuGiQYF25BFLyuneOQBwQa9FpJIkh5o6bz2rr-EJdkQ_jsYXW2F4bgNM9qgehEcN0YD9lZ8/s320/IMG_0976.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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And to take "official" group photos:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCNehBw5Ur-PrxWPwV9bCQfwWg2XCFzTXglnLDexAUIMNupuJE7wIAI17wi3ufIUt5oey96WyFM-pu2n2VDATs8eNw5IjyWqdVtX_fwfpu6ZY_UAmQ1TdQ8Cw5hvfep_lyKUpHKVHUaTFR/s1600/156.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCNehBw5Ur-PrxWPwV9bCQfwWg2XCFzTXglnLDexAUIMNupuJE7wIAI17wi3ufIUt5oey96WyFM-pu2n2VDATs8eNw5IjyWqdVtX_fwfpu6ZY_UAmQ1TdQ8Cw5hvfep_lyKUpHKVHUaTFR/s320/156.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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And to check into Facebook:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhc5WHLP94nqBL0g5em7fwfp26aVmqKTbHBro4BIJ1Wb1MRVmuCF5BpABz4fQf_zf5RPB4EGnvm0meTBC9ePXhLKHDZn-wFeK8kssTy6MQEAtdywMKkCQjsDwFnnxqn5w9rreC95Op2ahZd/s1600/IMG_0891.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhc5WHLP94nqBL0g5em7fwfp26aVmqKTbHBro4BIJ1Wb1MRVmuCF5BpABz4fQf_zf5RPB4EGnvm0meTBC9ePXhLKHDZn-wFeK8kssTy6MQEAtdywMKkCQjsDwFnnxqn5w9rreC95Op2ahZd/s320/IMG_0891.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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Have the right accessories:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCza6go9432ew_5bUaLMpJRyF4dRRyr1bVnyZtyFtF4OaJW5HeIeiN4ENmWWRUUrt8LH7_3DDDvqGKA2RE_Edt-nIW5qGge41vEge0EjGNZey_v-PWRwfXMIHucpHQy00doccDo2_ue6ck/s1600/233.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCza6go9432ew_5bUaLMpJRyF4dRRyr1bVnyZtyFtF4OaJW5HeIeiN4ENmWWRUUrt8LH7_3DDDvqGKA2RE_Edt-nIW5qGge41vEge0EjGNZey_v-PWRwfXMIHucpHQy00doccDo2_ue6ck/s320/233.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
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Pay homage to Phyllis Diller when she died:<br />
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Oh yeah... And bowl!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2xRHk5c_1It58iJYyRh9vAgPKo4a16UWAIdzWoIIF6ZsFzw68LeMEUznClCplVR6EdQGMriRqlN8BAjpTQAjHoc40CqEhtt3p86tQlmHjhHDIhLuWJmbrbUjXKCRc7ezm5fOWMehoAko_/s1600/158.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2xRHk5c_1It58iJYyRh9vAgPKo4a16UWAIdzWoIIF6ZsFzw68LeMEUznClCplVR6EdQGMriRqlN8BAjpTQAjHoc40CqEhtt3p86tQlmHjhHDIhLuWJmbrbUjXKCRc7ezm5fOWMehoAko_/s320/158.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"> <i>Marcia, our captain, was clearly the star bowler. Look at that form!</i></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKrPN_1j9zFRpY7MQpHtrJrE6_oQkI_FGttYiVoGaeIacMQXqUwtgunWHM0fluLBSXr7sgUiK46liGFVyB1-e51InaDqSUmohLnu04HnYrIwSOt7GTj2IU2ajtjINOleve20JEAVWscRTR/s1600/222.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKrPN_1j9zFRpY7MQpHtrJrE6_oQkI_FGttYiVoGaeIacMQXqUwtgunWHM0fluLBSXr7sgUiK46liGFVyB1-e51InaDqSUmohLnu04HnYrIwSOt7GTj2IU2ajtjINOleve20JEAVWscRTR/s320/222.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i> About to throw another gutter ball</i></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtIBSAqnmM4Qs2nCCwGTeAE1NyCs8NuCLvf8mSt7cPyKOyOsGcYeMq5zNmTxn0eyFJqT_GslH3FhkU2xKJqDuAavRmCE4w8viI_xRAV3Xq7tuG_tHVLkVbTrldXGYHMKLiMEY8kp2JW6me/s1600/IMG_1236.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtIBSAqnmM4Qs2nCCwGTeAE1NyCs8NuCLvf8mSt7cPyKOyOsGcYeMq5zNmTxn0eyFJqT_GslH3FhkU2xKJqDuAavRmCE4w8viI_xRAV3Xq7tuG_tHVLkVbTrldXGYHMKLiMEY8kp2JW6me/s320/IMG_1236.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Bowling is glamorous</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</div>
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<div style="text-align: left;">
There was the thrill of victory</div>
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<div style="text-align: left;">
And the agony of defeat.</div>
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But it didn't really matter. Every Monday, I could not wait to get to the bowling alley, where I would get to hang out with these fantastic friends and bowl and gossip and eat pizza and drink soda and do dumb dance moves to Men Without Hats and have a blast. We really were a team -- clapping for one another (but we would clap excitedly for anyone who got a strike, regardless of what team -- the other people thought we were weird), and rooting for each other, even when we didn't do so well. The Gutter Gals became a fun unit, and here's an Accomplishment in itself: I started to love Mondays. I never thought THAT would be possible, but I just loved what we were doing and these gals so much. <br />
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The summer and the 8 weeks flew by, and last Monday was our last night. We wore our bowling ensembles and tiaras:<br />
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and I brought the world's meltiest and ugliest cake for everybody.<br />
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Of course it was superfun as usual, but it was also a bit bittersweet. We bowled our hearts out, and Shona bowled her best game ever! <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSL0wovAaDye2DupGBjAOd0wrwLHf0GuCCe6l1cZZB_0jSTL0I4vnlvZMYITDNoTNmMcobM2bu3VDfDzZd5BXxxOpRxqGWWuHXm_8pF_ONJj9HnHhNnYHewHeSEl7nc3FdU3506ZGFYQTn/s1600/230.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSL0wovAaDye2DupGBjAOd0wrwLHf0GuCCe6l1cZZB_0jSTL0I4vnlvZMYITDNoTNmMcobM2bu3VDfDzZd5BXxxOpRxqGWWuHXm_8pF_ONJj9HnHhNnYHewHeSEl7nc3FdU3506ZGFYQTn/s320/230.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>STRIKE on the first frame!!!!</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
But when it came time for the very last ball to be bowled, we were all pretty sad.<br />
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Then it was time for the award ceremony -- after all, this really was a competition! We had been paying dues into a kitty, and now it was time to show us the money. (Or not. Remember, there were only three teams.)<br />
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Drumroll, please:<br />
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We came in second place -- $20 each!!!! WE WON SILVER!!!!!!<br />
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Our buddies HIGH OCTANE came in first. They won ONE HUNDRED DOLLARS.<br />
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Marcia won for best lady bowler!!! FIVE DOLLARS!!!<br />
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And get this: I won $5 for ladies' highest handicap!!! I'm not sure what that means, but I think it means Best Worst Bowler!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhle7KiAhIaFzTj4EI1p5aMsdrRqTSNjqEyjQX5k-SKs2yzJFERK_y5ZgzzKv3DcSPpp-T06sLegoMeS3Jv08cjm22BNCOCnRUXL2HOVkliSd_aNdCS3Fshyphenhyphen_U_Q3iEqPVfB51G7qGRdNyD/s1600/7885698416_f2ce236bc3_z(1).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhle7KiAhIaFzTj4EI1p5aMsdrRqTSNjqEyjQX5k-SKs2yzJFERK_y5ZgzzKv3DcSPpp-T06sLegoMeS3Jv08cjm22BNCOCnRUXL2HOVkliSd_aNdCS3Fshyphenhyphen_U_Q3iEqPVfB51G7qGRdNyD/s320/7885698416_f2ce236bc3_z(1).jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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But I won! I won at a sport!!! ME!!! I never, ever, EVER thought THAT would ever happen. That felt pretty good for someone who was always picked last, and spent more time bored in the outfield than up at bat. I don't suck so hard after all! I know it's not as exciting as an Olympic medal, but clearly I'm happier with my awards than SOME people are with theirs.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFRMhsRrrt_obg_SzA2GWlHceljKOs2MrROC90KsTiP5Ij5dS9nEcFnymj13fyPQgAcMhwUkUUqhQoc9FYJXmc5kTIvhyrYlhgc7pDrAu5WGWi_Zjqr3QkOut3KPsm0H7H79SI6O4I2xey/s1600/mckayla-maroney-wins-silver-at-the-vault-finals-at-the-london-gamesw.jpg+w%253D614.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFRMhsRrrt_obg_SzA2GWlHceljKOs2MrROC90KsTiP5Ij5dS9nEcFnymj13fyPQgAcMhwUkUUqhQoc9FYJXmc5kTIvhyrYlhgc7pDrAu5WGWi_Zjqr3QkOut3KPsm0H7H79SI6O4I2xey/s320/mckayla-maroney-wins-silver-at-the-vault-finals-at-the-london-gamesw.jpg+w%253D614.jpg" width="238" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>What. Ever.</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: center;">
</div>
As we sat and ate our last pizza together, I felt sad. While Marcia, Moe and I signed on again for Winter League (it's the Big Time -- against real bowlers AND a trip to Reno!), Shona can't do it this winter because of her schedule. So it was truly the last night for the four of us. We sat and chatted and laughed and reminisced, and thanked each other for making the summer so much fun. I loved being part of this group, and our mighty little team. I loved that the three of them became good friends, too, and I know that all of us will stay friends and in touch. And I loved that we tried something new, had fun, and were totally rewarded in many ways. And as we sat there,with Moe pulling the cheese off her pizza and Marcia eating the crust (their usual routine), the music that came on was "I Believe I Can Fly" and it was straight out of a chick flick. Except, since it was us, it started us on the topic of the weird video where R Kelly was in the closet and how he liked to pee on people, and what is THAT all about... See? Our team was magic.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibXNt574ZEXyjo5HBeUACQecb1PhFp8bAMbmBFkb2nQZ2MqS9wtVazNCO_8DDJNZYNKjfJe442uSdHmtYWxh23OPD8O9LQ1bjQs0ECCRv0VNVl99KoxUwSFZw5GgQvHI_h606fJBDD1mVX/s1600/IMG_1270.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibXNt574ZEXyjo5HBeUACQecb1PhFp8bAMbmBFkb2nQZ2MqS9wtVazNCO_8DDJNZYNKjfJe442uSdHmtYWxh23OPD8O9LQ1bjQs0ECCRv0VNVl99KoxUwSFZw5GgQvHI_h606fJBDD1mVX/s320/IMG_1270.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Summer leaguin' -- had us a blast</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: left;">
But I am excited for our new league -- our friend Barb is joining The Gutter Gals as our new fourth, and she's so much fun that I know we'll have a great time. Plus we recruited 8 other fun and fabulous ladies -- two other teams -- so that is going to be awesome! We'll be bowling with and against some serious bowlers, so it will be better to have some goofiness, and not take it <i>too</i> seriously. And who knows. Maybe we'll win something again. But let's face it -- it really isn't about how you win or lose. It's how you play the game... And what you're wearing. Duh!</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
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Forty-three down, 54 to go.<br />
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</div>
Sparkleneelyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16227120176940674448noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8979421620708398229.post-71714104116335355672012-07-01T10:42:00.000-07:002012-07-01T10:42:07.264-07:00Raising Money for a Charity ReduxHi all,<br />
<br />
Two weeks from today, I will be putting on super ugly but functional sporty type shoes, an outfit that will include some sort of fleece material, and a crown, and walking 6 miles through Golden Gate Park. Trust me, I would not put on sporty type shoes for just ANY occasion, no way -- I'm doing it to raise money for the 2012 SF AIDS Walk.<br />
<br />
It's a cause that is near and to dear my heart, and I vowed years ago that I would keep walking until there was a cure. This year is no exception, but sadly donations are way down which is so hard -- people's lives depend of the SF AIDS' Foundation's services, and without this fundraising, a lot of people will suffer and go without. I hate to think of that happening to any of my -- or yours, or anyone's -- loved ones. Which is why I walk. The story behind it all is one of my favorite posts, and you can read it <a href="http://97thingstodobeforeiturn97.blogspot.com/2009/07/accomplishment-35-raise-money-for_17.html">here</a>. <br />
<br />
I am humbly asking for donations again this year -- every little bit counts. I, and the SF AIDS Foundation and the people it serves, would greatly appreciate it. I know times are still tight, and it seems like every five minutes we're all getting requests to donate money to save a million animals from certain death, fund art projects and sabbaticals, sponsor people's cousin's daughter's best friends cancer treatments or cakewalks, help soldiers and small businesses, fund firefighters and food banks... It's so overwhelming and the barrage getting more difficult to deal with -- I totally understand. (Sucker that I am, more often than not, I do donate. I figure I can skip 2 cocktails out at a bar and help someone eat for a week or get medical care. And it makes me feel good and not hungover the next day. Still, it's way overwhelming and it feels like constantly being clobbered over the head, I know.) <br />
<br />
But if you can find it in your heart (and wallet) to sponsor me, that would be wonderful. I am so grateful to those who have already donated -- much love and good karma to you all. And if you want big love and good karma, my link is <a href="http://awsf2012.kintera.org/faf/donorReg/donorPledge.asp?ievent=1007893&supid=130305382">here -- Karen's donation page</a>.<br />
<br />
Thank you, thank you... Sister Tuna Noodle and I totally appreciate it.<br />
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xoxoxoxox<br />Sparkleneelyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16227120176940674448noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8979421620708398229.post-48711397353435168532012-05-09T17:47:00.004-07:002012-05-09T17:50:37.119-07:00B-Boy Bouillabaisse<i> This is a little different that anything I usually post, but I figured hey, why not...</i><br />
<br />
I must admit, I've been pretty crushed by the celebrity deaths this past week. Maurice Sendak, of course, was one of The Greats -- every childhood should be filled with his Wild Things, Pierre, and even his cunning little vixens. He was the greatest author I ever saw speak -- a curmudgeonly demeanor, yet amidst his "bahs" his words were so honest and even gentle, and he always seemed to be on the side of the children and respected them wholly. (No namby pamby coddling from him, no sir!) I loved him. Then Vidal Sassoon... I met him when he did a book signing at my old bookstore, and he was the kindest, most gracious and gentlemanly author that we ever hosted. I was in awe (<i>"ohmigod, Vidal SASSOON!"</i>) and he told me I had beautiful hair. I don't, but that's a testament to how nice he was. His passing was a punch in the chest. Yet both of these men, while I'm sorry they're gone, they led lives so full and shared so much with the rest of us that I can't help but just be grateful they lived.<br />
<br />
But the one I really loved that we lost this week was Adam Yauch, of course. MCA. He was taken way too soon -- 47 was way too young to go, and I think that he had a lot of good left to do. And it's funny -- I was almost shocked at the outpouring of love for him on the old facebook feed. I mean, I knew on a certain level that a lot of people loved The Beastie Boys, but I didn't realize that so many of my friends would be so affected. But I guess it makes sense -- they were smarmy teenagers when we were, and we all kind of grew up together. (Though admittedly he grew up a lot better and kinder than most of the rest of us did.)<br />
<br />
I was standing on 5th Avenue when I heard he died and I felt my knees grow a bit weak. It was almost surreal -- whenever I'm in New York, The Beasties are on a constant loop in my head. Almost annoyingly so, as they are earworm fragments: "My man MCA has a beard like a billy goat/whoo whoo! Is the disco call/So I'm out pickin' pockets at the Atlantic Antic/And nobody wants to hear you cause your rhymes are so frantic/Homeboy, throw in the towel/ Your girl got d***d by Ricky Powell/ HEEELLLOOOO BROOOOOOKLYN!!!!" Yeah, constant, but still, it's what always happens to me in NYC and I like it. But suddenly it wasn't amusing -- it was sad. the Beastie Boys had created an image of new York City for me, and I have never been there without thinking of their "narration," and the legend they created surrounding it. And now one of its favorite citizens was gone. I sat in my hotel room and listened to "Paul's Boutique" and felt sad and old.<br />
<br />
A few years ago I did a reading with a "rock'n'roll" theme at Litquake, and after wracking my brain I wrote the one rock'n'roll story I have in my kind of uptight, nerdy life: the summer I wished desperately to be a groupie for The Beastie Boys. I haven't looked at it since I performed it (and it's much better performed, I think, because I've listened to "Paul's Boutique so many times I can get the B-Boy inflections down, boooyyyeeee), but I found it today and thought I'd post it here. I don't usually post things I write, but what the hell. It's far from deep or meaningful, but it was fun. Enjoy.<br />
<br />
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<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
Like many bookish nerdy girls, I
worked in a bookstore while in high school, college, and beyond. I loved inhaling the smell of books as I
walked through the door, and I loved the fact that I worked in a bookstore – it
made me feel not just nerdy but smart.
And I loved that anything I ever wanted to know was all right there, for
a 30% discount or for free while eating lunch in the breakroom.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
But the best part about it was
stripping. As in stripping the covers
off paperbacks to return them to the publishers, and we could have the books
for free. The world was my oyster! So much to learn, so much to choose from – I
could read Proust and Dickens and Austen and Plath, perfect for an English
major like me. But more often than not,
the naked books slipped into my purse were actually “Sweet Valley High” novels,
and one book that has stayed with me in memory and every move from apartment to
apartment: “I’m With the Band” by Pamela Des Barres.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
For those unfamiliar with Ms. Des
Barres’ tome – it is the story of her life as a rock’n’roll kitten, and her
rollicking adventures cavorting with the likes of Jim Morrison, Jimmy Page, and
Keith Moon. And it wasn’t that she was
just hanging out with these people – she made an entire career out of being a
bona fide groupie. To me, her life seemed
to be filled with sunshine and flowers, sweet hazy smoke and musky patchouli,
feather boas and velvet capes (and the occasional whip and chain thanks to the
aforementioned Mr. Page). It all seemed
so glamorous, and being a groupie sounded way more fun than working in a
bookstore. I envied her position and
guileless hipness, and her uncanny ability to be in the Right Place at the
Right Time. And, of course, her liaises
with famous rockstars. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
She was a total inspiration. I, too, wished for that VIP pass beyond the
velvet rope. How awesome would it be to
sail into the coolest clubs while wearing fabulous clothes, catching the eye of
the Rockstar Du Jour, and going back to a swanky Sunset Blvd hotel for some
crazy partying and mind blowing sex and then write a best selling memoir filled
with flattering photos of me and the hoi polloi? It would be TOTALLY AWESOME. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
But let’s face it – there were some
obstacles for my groupie-dom. I was not
a nubile sex kitten in skimpy outfits, ready for a rock’n’rollin’ good
time. I was a bookstore nerd, more
likely to get hit by a bus than catch a rockstar’s eye. And the other obstacle:</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
It was the 80’s.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
Sure, that one guy from Depeche
Mode was cute, and one of my friends?
Totally had sex with the other guy from Depeche Mode! And while I’m sure Robert Plant was all sex
with his flowing locks in the 70’s, but by the 80’s, the flowing locks adorned
the likes of Axl Rose and Whitesnake, and their contribution to the hole in the
ozone layer with their liberal use of Aqua Net did nothing for the sexy
factor. And, well, most of the bands I
liked – new wave – it was hard to determine which gender the members of these
bands preferred. (Though, admittedly, I
was a sucker for those boys. More on
that another time.)</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
But despite these obstacles, I had
my groupie crush, an object of desire.
Had I been a decade younger and he’d been the Teen Beat magazine type,
his poster would have been all over my walls.
And I was sure we were destined to be together.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
Adam Horovitz, aka Ad Rock from The
Beastie Boys.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
I had been an okay fan of License
To Ill. I believed one had to fight for
their right to party, and a brass monkey sounded like a delicious
cocktail. And Ad Rock, the whiny one,
was pretty cute. But hearing about all
the hoopla surrounding “Paul’s Boutique” made me go out and buy it – ON
CASSETTE – the day it came out. The
sheer genius of it made me flip the tape over and over, and shake my head at the thrill and craft –
the once obnoxious party boys had gone to another level and had become
artistes. Plus the sampling of the Jam and the soundtrack to Shaft made me
realize that “the whiny one” – who must have been the aficionado behind the
genius (because he was the cutest) – and I were meant to be. I was totally ready to get funky.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
At the time, I lived in Southern California,
and the Beastie Boys did, too. It was
kismet that we would run into one another and our eyes would lock and he’d be
all, “YOU’RE DOPE.” And I’d be all, “Awwww yeeeah,” and we would shake our
rumps. It was only a matter of
time. And in that meantime, I convinced
my friends Raina and Monica that they were totally meant to be with MCA and Mike
D., the other Beastie Boys, much like we had chosen which Monkee was “ours”
years before. “Mike D’s not that cute,”
Monica complained. “He’s the dorky one.
Why do I have to have the dorky one?”
“But he’s cool,” I said. “And
funny! Come on, the line, ‘Is your name
Michael Diamond? No, my name’s Clarence’
is hilarious.” “Whatever,” she said, not
buying it, but it was summer and we had nothing to do anyway. Luckily, Raina was thrilled with her MCA
destiny, and our Beastie stalking had begun.
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
One night, we ran into one of
Monica’s friends, Steven, at Canter’s Deli.
We gave him a ride, and of course, “Paul’s Boutique” was playing in the
car – it was the only thing that was ever played in the car, and we’d committed
the whole thing to memory. “Righteous,”
Steven said. “This album is the
bomb.” We all agreed and then he said,
“You know, the other night I was at the AM PM on Fairfax and Ad Rock was there
and we totally smoked a fatty.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
“WHAT???” I shrieked. I had been at that very AM PM two nights
before, buying a flavorless sandwich and some gas, and Ad Rock had definitely
NOT been there. How come Steven had all
the luck?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
“Yeah,” he said. “He was all, ‘Dude, you wanna smoke a j?’ and
I was like, “Fuck YEAH I wanna smoke a j with a fuckin’ B-Boy.” I couldn’t believe it.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
“And then what?” I prodded. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
“We went back to his place and got
stoned and played records. It was RAD.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
“Oh. My.
God,” I said. “SHUT UP. Do you
mean to tell me that you know where ADAM HOROVITZ lives?” </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
“Yeah,” he yawned, like it was
every day he hung out with major recording artists. He directed us to an old 1920’s apartment
complex on Manhattan Place near St.Andrews, and we parked in front. “Are you gonna go in? I mean you’re friends, right?” </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
He looked out the window. “Lights are off,” he said. “He’s not home.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
“Which one is it?” He pointed vaguely at the dark top left
apartment, and we vowed to come back.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
So Raina and I (Monica lost
interest because she just “couldn’t get into” Mike D) started our Beastie
stakeouts, parking across the street and ducking any time a car drove by,
hoping to catch a glimpse of Ad-Rock and MCA going in or out. One night we even bought eggs, in homage to
“Egg Raid on Mojo” (from their punk rock EP Pollywog Stew) and “Egg Man” from
Paul’s Boutique, and smashed them onto the sidewalk, our own in-joke calling
card that we were SURE Ad Rock would get and it would<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"> intrigue</i> him. But the apartment was always dark – maybe they were
out promoting the record? Going to
star-studded parties? Visiting family in
Brooklyn? But we kept hearing stories –
So and So saw AdRock and Mike D at the pool hall on 20<sup>th</sup> and
Wilshire (THREE BLOCKS FROM MONICA’S HOUSE), a sighting at Fred Segal on
Melrose, they were on Johnny Carson….they were totally in town. And we realized that Steven was full of shit
– why would a millionaire rock star live in a crappy four-plex off Wilshire,
when he could buy a mansion in the Hollywood Hills? DUH.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
But one thing we got wind of that
wasn’t bullshit was that our future husbands were going to be filming the video
for their song “Shadrach” at The Country Club in Reseda, and they needed people
to come because it was going to be a concert video. Raina and I were all over that action. We planned for days what we were going to
wear, deciding that we were going to dress nicely, so we wouldn’t be mistaken
for the dumb sluts that let the Beastie Boys pour honey all over them
backstage, like in the Licensed to Ill video.
They had matured since then, too, so they wouldn’t be interested in the
same lame girls. We would show them that we were TRUE fans and had class, and
the new mustard colored middy shirt I got on Melrose and my black skirt would
be perfect.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
So out of the 8 or so girls who
showed up, we were the only ones not wearing tube tops and mini skirts. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
Still, because we were of the
female persuasion (as opposed to the hundreds of dudes there that were
shouting, “WHAT’S THE TIME? IT’S TIME TO
GET ILL!”), we got pushed near the front, and we were all instructed to scream as
loud as we could, to make it seem like a real Beastie Boys concert.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
That wasn’t hard. As soon as AdRock ran out, wearing a Virgin
de Guadalupe tee shirt and a Job rolling papers baseball cap, and MCA shouted,
“RIDDLE ME THIS MY BROTHER, CAN YOU HANDLE IT?” Raina and I clutched each other
and collapsed in screams and tears.
There they were, just FEET in front of us! Each time a camera came by we jumped up and
did “the horns” (the universal sign of ROCK AND ROLL) and we were sure we were
captured, and sure that Ad Rock and MCA would see us in the footage and think,
“Who are those conservatively dressed vixens?
They will be ours!” </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
They did “Shadrach” a few times and
we screamed until we were hoarse, and avoided the crowd surfers and stage
divers, and then they did a few other songs.
And then they ran off, and it was over.
Though we debated trying to get backstage (as die-hard groupies should),
we instead basked in the magic and went to DuPar’s and went over every last
detail of every last second of the night. And then all there was left to do was
wait for our MTV debut.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
When it came, with much fanfare and
a spinning globe graphic that said “WORLD PREMIERE VIDEO,” I was in a friend’s
dorm room with a bunch of people. I had boasted that I, Karen Noreen Finlay,
was going to be in a real live Beastie Boys video. I was going to be a star AND Mrs. Adam Horovitz. THIS was going to be the first of many
moments of glory, a moment to rival any of Pamela des Barres’ – this was going
to be IT. I was going to transcend from
a mere bookstore nerd into a rock and roll butterfly, or at least have the most
awesome claim to fame EVER.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
Kurt Loder introduced the video,
and the familiar beats of “Shadrach” began.
And then I saw, to my crushing embarrassment and dismay: it had been
ANIMATED. All the footage had been
stylistically painted over, and our place in the crowd had turned into a
colorful mass blob. “I was standing
right THERE,” I pointed out to the skeptical kids in the room, who probably
thought I was full of shit though one girl said, “I can totally tell that’s
you!” just to be nice. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
But yet – we had been there, which
was cool in itself. “Oh well,” Raina and
I told one another. “We’ll meet them one
day.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
Alas, it didn’t happen – we never
met our Beastie husbands. Life went
on. Raina went on to marry someone other
than MCA, and I went on to date an actual musician, and I discovered that my
groupie experience was a lot different than Pamela des Barres’, and I’m just
not really cut out for that life. Now I
date a former musician, now accountant, and that suits me much better. But every time I hear Paul’s Boutique –
still to this day one of my all time favorite albums -- I think about that
carefree summer, the last summer I was young enough to have a crush and old
enough to drive past what I thought was his house (and, um, be prosecuted as an
adult). And though I still think AdRock
is, like, still illin’, I think it was more about shedding that nerdy
bookishness and becoming a rock and roll butterfly, though that didn’t happen,
either. Obviously. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
But one thing’s for sure, I can
still totally fight for my right to party. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>Sparkleneelyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16227120176940674448noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8979421620708398229.post-6122146815450723282012-05-08T13:02:00.001-07:002012-05-08T13:21:22.085-07:00I am so sorry, sad sloth!There is an internet meme that is going around that is called <a href="http://www.buzzfeed.com/expresident/animals-who-are-extremely-disappointed-in-you">33 Animals Who Are Extremely Disappointed in You.</a>
<br />
Oh yes, I clicked, and I laughed. I laughed and laughed. And then I got to #12.<br />
<br />
<b>
12. This Sloth </b><br />
<b>This sloth kind of feels like you should update your blog more frequently.</b>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4ApA894E_wxswY-WcorsVZ6fJ83F2WkvODvPjCr_Wj-Teh74eScpuDSe0hL9IIxnEZl4hBbjcS5VI4D0zfkr6U8j8zIkp6Dbcjv-64PWp8BJd3bvw_dUlkCF1Ch1i2bQYYv278mneu-p5/s1600/sloth.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="224" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4ApA894E_wxswY-WcorsVZ6fJ83F2WkvODvPjCr_Wj-Teh74eScpuDSe0hL9IIxnEZl4hBbjcS5VI4D0zfkr6U8j8zIkp6Dbcjv-64PWp8BJd3bvw_dUlkCF1Ch1i2bQYYv278mneu-p5/s320/sloth.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
And oh. Now I feel like there are 270 little follower sloths out there, shaking their head with disappointment. I am so sorry! Please forgive me! I've been busy but will be back soon!<br />
<br />
Aaah well... At least it isn't as reproachful as this monkey. This monkey is staring into MY SOUL.
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6p33Gv5hKJlJI6V4wWfOo-dMX_L-rWs7LB7iKSU0J7pdc3Du2fNwf1HKyVa5fbia1FgOOH4L_I8RqHGmBe8G8D87n4IQpfrGPj-QBv2O-OU3fOvXZ91EJhA_kOM1glaKzHW9VjZZpmXuH/s1600/monkey.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6p33Gv5hKJlJI6V4wWfOo-dMX_L-rWs7LB7iKSU0J7pdc3Du2fNwf1HKyVa5fbia1FgOOH4L_I8RqHGmBe8G8D87n4IQpfrGPj-QBv2O-OU3fOvXZ91EJhA_kOM1glaKzHW9VjZZpmXuH/s320/monkey.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
I hope none of you ever disappoint a monkey.Sparkleneelyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16227120176940674448noreply@blogger.com24tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8979421620708398229.post-35335384412417124962012-03-13T20:25:00.007-07:002012-03-13T21:43:12.690-07:00Live, in person... ME!Hey y'all!<br /><br />I am thrilled and honored to be reading this Sunday, March 18th at The Art Beat Bazaar at the Starry Plough! Art Beat Foundation is an absolutely awesome <a href="http://www.artbeatfoundation.org/?page_id=23">organization</a>, run by absolutely <a href="http://www.antonettegoroch.com/">awesome</a> <a href="http://www.tippycanoe.net/fr_tippycanoemusicvideo.cfm">people</a>, that promotes and nurtures the local artistic community, and The Art Beat Bazaar is an extension of their good works. No kidding, to be invited to read means a lot to me.<br /><br />It would also mean a lot to me if you came! Here's the link for more information:<br /><br /><a href="http://www.artbeatfoundation.org/?page_id=86">MARCH 2012 ART BEAT BAZAAR</a><br /><br />It's going to be such a fun day -- talented musicians Kelly McFarling and Christina Bailey, cute crafts, full menu, $3 beers... And me!<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfFp72rlZDC5Kh7oSNcy47TeMG8GUh8jmTBMt2RlW7nvMYHRMWpXZyRv7yvsACiWtgZ-vONMDjohEdxXHHVgHC_U2nIy-uf41UTDchcHFFQ8mgA9UQUiAzEOaBW9Wli46GMCKWQxUcpDkC/s1600/388.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfFp72rlZDC5Kh7oSNcy47TeMG8GUh8jmTBMt2RlW7nvMYHRMWpXZyRv7yvsACiWtgZ-vONMDjohEdxXHHVgHC_U2nIy-uf41UTDchcHFFQ8mgA9UQUiAzEOaBW9Wli46GMCKWQxUcpDkC/s320/388.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5719603307333996642" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br />And see that "author photo?" Allow me to brag for a minute. That photo was taken at PHYLLIS DILLER'S HOUSE. Yes, you read that right. PHYLLIS DILLER. That is me, in PHYLLIS DILLER'S HOUSE, drinking a Diet Coke in front of her bookshelf and her copy of <span style="font-style:italic;">VALLEY OF THE DOLLS</span>. (It was also taken mere moments before I got in trouble for taking a picture of said copy of <span style="font-style:italic;">Valley of the Dolls</span>.) Yes, I'm bragging, but how often in one's life does one get their picture taken in Phyllis Diller's house, unless you're Charles Nelson Reilly or Buddy Hackett? EXACTLY. If that ain't an Accomplishment, I don't know what is.<br /><br />But... That's another story for another time. So if you want to hear a different story, please come on Sunday! Hope to see you there!Sparkleneelyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16227120176940674448noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8979421620708398229.post-66403082532619744782012-01-21T12:21:00.000-08:002012-01-21T13:17:25.381-08:00Accomplishment Not in the Book... But Awesome Nonetheless.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIsPacaleIR-7D3x5e0iAIFI5JdXFPMu8Q_S_aU44K6BC4HQNg3eQSPwxRPC3q0FjEyfHk_ajdwba6XTL3ay6n-C2w2LZs6NRGu0ULR9T7DwSvGHuPcI28YHbEJ6z5MiJ6XWUwEdMTKjv3/s1600/horn+section.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 228px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIsPacaleIR-7D3x5e0iAIFI5JdXFPMu8Q_S_aU44K6BC4HQNg3eQSPwxRPC3q0FjEyfHk_ajdwba6XTL3ay6n-C2w2LZs6NRGu0ULR9T7DwSvGHuPcI28YHbEJ6z5MiJ6XWUwEdMTKjv3/s320/horn+section.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5700195387505593858" /></a><br /><br />Believe it or not, sometimes I Accomplish stuff that's not one of these 97 Things. I know, I know, that's hard to believe considering how infrequently I update -- you'd think that I don't Accomplish <span style="font-style:italic;">anything</span>. I do, I swear! Sometimes I do dishes and laundry and wear matching shoes. I've been known to throw <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/sparkleneely/sets/72157628480500785/">a great party</a>, put together a fabulous <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/sparkleneely/6299632328/">Halloween costume</a>, and... Okay, I can't think of anything else. I should be figuring out how to ride a horse (#93)and make a podcast (#49) and climb a mountain (#47), but... I'm not there yet.<br /><br />To be honest, my main Accomplishment for 2012 is writing. My dear friend Dottie (who along with the fabulous Alix does one of the best blog around, <a href="http://modernkiddo.com/">Modern Kiddo</a>!), said to me, "Lady, 2012 is the year of THE BOOK." And I do have some big plans!<br /><br />But the thought of opening a blank Word document and starting to type can be daunting. And then to actually SHOW someone and then SEND it somewhere scares the bejeebus out of me. But last Saturday, I was poking around on <a href="http://www.munidiaries.com/">munidiaries.com</a>, a fantastic San Francisco site about the local public transit system, that has everything from updates, riders' photos and readers' stories. My friends run it and they do a GREAT job.<br /><br />Well, my most-told story in my arsenal of, well, most-told stories happened on my old commute when I lived in The Richmond in San Francisco. So I thought, "What the hell" and opened a blank Word Doc and began to type. And since I've told it so many times and remember it so clearly and so fondly, the words just flowed. And a few minutes later, my story was finished.<br /><br />Before I could actually second-guess myself, and let all the usual self-doubt creep in and stop me, I hit <span style="font-style:italic;">send</span>. And <span style="font-style:italic;">then</span> I let the self doubt and fear creep in. But I was so proud of myself -- I did it! I sent something out for someone to read and decide if they liked it enough to use it! People, that was a Big Deal for me.<br /><br />So on Thursday, I got a post on my facebook wall from the woman who runs it that said, "AMAZING" with a link -- they ran the story! <br /><br />I felt like I won the lottery. I let some of that doubt creep in -- yes, I know them... Yes, they could be doing me a favor... Yes, they're being nice -- but still. There was my name, on a website, and STRANGERS were going to read it. Was it as funny as I hoped it would be? Would people like it?<br /><br />But all day, my friends reposted the story and gave me nice comments, and that made me feel like a million bucks. I love my friends more than anything, and they are all so supportive and wonderful, and I basked in their love. But then, I saw comments from people THAT I DIDN'T KNOW and I started to cry:<br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">"Hilarious!"</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">"There aren't enough Like buttons in the cosmos for this."</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">"I am so sharing this. O man. I laughed the f**k out loud... I will be eternally grateful that you shared it with me."</span><br /><br />And then out for drinks that night, I was greeted with "JACK IN THE BOX!" by someone who had seen it earlier that day. I felt like ZSA ZSA! <br /><br />ALL of it was AWESOME. And made me think, "Hey, that's not so hard. And it was easy and felt good. DO IT AGAIN!" and it made me feel like I CAN do it again, and I will.<br /><br />So forgive me for tooting that proverbial horn, but wow. I felt SO Accomplished. It's not one of the 97, but it's always been number one to me. Whoo hoo!<br /><br />And here is the story of you'd like to read it, too!<br /><br /><a href="http://www.munidiaries.com/2012/01/19/jack-in-the-box-jackinthebox/">Jack. In. The. Box. Jackinthebox.</a><br /><br />xoxoSparkleneelyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16227120176940674448noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8979421620708398229.post-33487901995249012522012-01-13T22:58:00.000-08:002012-01-14T00:10:21.373-08:00And the winner is...<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCzfqfOwDIUnuNo2Ry8CTQ-9w1iTJbdLpMVqur93IFK9GWp4aDsMjZN7QCfBAUIdWRKuJyLSTywpBQaN58B4JBwiH49fJHn6hExvKOHDe1hy8cwWjwC7KoPcI2cZCZoBhyJn2iCo8HktXv/s1600/blog+giveaway+jan+2012+008.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCzfqfOwDIUnuNo2Ry8CTQ-9w1iTJbdLpMVqur93IFK9GWp4aDsMjZN7QCfBAUIdWRKuJyLSTywpBQaN58B4JBwiH49fJHn6hExvKOHDe1hy8cwWjwC7KoPcI2cZCZoBhyJn2iCo8HktXv/s320/blog+giveaway+jan+2012+008.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5697388920234254498" /></a><br /><br />I want to say a big THANK YOU to everyone who entered and commented! I loved hearing all about your favorite books, and I'm so thrilled to add new books to my list for 2012. When I pick up the winner's copy of <span style="font-style:italic;">Swimming in the Steno Pool </span>tomorrow, I'll be picking up a few extra books for myself. (See, I get to be a winner, too!) <br /> <br /><br />So, without further ado:<br /><br /><iframe width="420" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/upoSnhkD4FE" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">See I upgraded to a zebra Snuggie this year.</span><br /><br />The winner is: LAURA!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDVbcKyJIHmkgYVIAz1gQNH6azEXM2mP04POsu_oc0ue75ltuEysw4jKkva-iX8s3xpaS5LKiQvX3jjZB991F6e-wZ24w7gS2QfXxA5put_4ZbiwvYUGgskZwcb9oCcbr5pw1O-xffRvFZ/s1600/blog+giveaway+jan+2012+004.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDVbcKyJIHmkgYVIAz1gQNH6azEXM2mP04POsu_oc0ue75ltuEysw4jKkva-iX8s3xpaS5LKiQvX3jjZB991F6e-wZ24w7gS2QfXxA5put_4ZbiwvYUGgskZwcb9oCcbr5pw1O-xffRvFZ/s320/blog+giveaway+jan+2012+004.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5697392493207470274" /></a><br /><br />Congratulations, Laura! You are now the proud owner of a signed copy of <span style="font-style:italic;">Swimming in the Steno Pool</span>! Send me your address!<br /><br />Again, thanks to everyone who commented, and thanks to everyone who reads my blog -- it really means a lot to me. And special thanks to Jon Burchard for being such a fantastic cameraman! (This year I didn't have to prop up the camera on a stack of books and an empty candy box. I felt almost pro-fesh-un-alll.)<br /><br />And please, do pick up the books on the list -- they're <span style="font-style:italic;">so</span> good. I've decided that I'll do another one of these in a few months because it's been so much fun! <br /><br />Which means I need to get reading. Now, that's an awesome Accomplishment.Sparkleneelyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16227120176940674448noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8979421620708398229.post-17908372219802315902012-01-13T18:21:00.000-08:002012-01-13T18:32:37.043-08:00Picking a winner in just a couple hours!What do this:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9xX23OUqAnKmbTTlLOca4hxYzThYelAH090rOFLOU2h1vnOu-Brt4m_S9pBk3BN9Ftr9fm9n62sjoSeZLjHvzNFNuDEHqHxGO-jOW6s_XFBrPO-26bmJD1H3yolSq57Wpaxk4aTWFQCDB/s1600/snuggie-zebra.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 304px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9xX23OUqAnKmbTTlLOca4hxYzThYelAH090rOFLOU2h1vnOu-Brt4m_S9pBk3BN9Ftr9fm9n62sjoSeZLjHvzNFNuDEHqHxGO-jOW6s_XFBrPO-26bmJD1H3yolSq57Wpaxk4aTWFQCDB/s320/snuggie-zebra.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5697307352306919186" /></a><br /><br />And this:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDFIjgDM2_8fMWBhRWEEdhge_dhCI51bzuD_XYWaqeAgG9ayHOXuO88TH5rO8ypfzled235h0_OSQTk2hrW7VPiyIwEyCyVY7_Uqgt9P6SDHG_E4mpEFekajex9lee8LJNIX2ArCee0Sfy/s1600/liz-taylor-tiara.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDFIjgDM2_8fMWBhRWEEdhge_dhCI51bzuD_XYWaqeAgG9ayHOXuO88TH5rO8ypfzled235h0_OSQTk2hrW7VPiyIwEyCyVY7_Uqgt9P6SDHG_E4mpEFekajex9lee8LJNIX2ArCee0Sfy/s320/liz-taylor-tiara.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5697307535355536818" /></a><br /><br />And this:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSVjeI0F2zhba_1FCKjHV9J_WqV5tSMljshE7YxZeFJf408soUOr0kcjiHw_jsMPvNuiHTLiBzRNjY_cgl8Q2Do3QurvC4G37HH0BSbiwaGSWTkAJZCuq3nneS1w3I1070fY92H9wPL6W6/s1600/etiquette-proper-table-setting-champagne-coupe.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSVjeI0F2zhba_1FCKjHV9J_WqV5tSMljshE7YxZeFJf408soUOr0kcjiHw_jsMPvNuiHTLiBzRNjY_cgl8Q2Do3QurvC4G37HH0BSbiwaGSWTkAJZCuq3nneS1w3I1070fY92H9wPL6W6/s320/etiquette-proper-table-setting-champagne-coupe.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5697307691134674066" /></a><br /><br />And THIS:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjB-jP2s0Bae0_guXUINMzgZg4JZKaKjDON9QF0_wVKbl8iAeo19vECAG_9r-Hn02iFBywssqjYQyFadpoAE86xnhAJnP2dP-UX7eEdZbKboCkkl2g2LS48k4VLHNytbr9nUwpXYJVJH7bd/s1600/Swimming-in-the-Steno-Pool-Peril-Lynn-9780393338546.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 238px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjB-jP2s0Bae0_guXUINMzgZg4JZKaKjDON9QF0_wVKbl8iAeo19vECAG_9r-Hn02iFBywssqjYQyFadpoAE86xnhAJnP2dP-UX7eEdZbKboCkkl2g2LS48k4VLHNytbr9nUwpXYJVJH7bd/s320/Swimming-in-the-Steno-Pool-Peril-Lynn-9780393338546.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5697307912697096610" /></a><br /><br />Have to do with this Friday night?<br /><br />Why, it's what I'll be wearing for the grand Giveway picking <a href="http://97thingstodobeforeiturn97.blogspot.com/2011/02/and-winner-is.html">(I feel that a Snuggie and a tiara really work best for these occasions)</a>, what I'll be drinking because it's fancy time, and what I'll be giving away!<br /><br />So there's about 2 hours left for you to enter <a href="http://97thingstodobeforeiturn97.blogspot.com/2012/01/happy-new-year-and-fabulous-giveaway.html">here</a>... <br /><br />Because I need to go and get THIS.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0TGJvIFMb_Sy-e2DstwAVhm2zhTBSLLSVyTRfNU_PPBpXUbA5ozTiJ5Y9yAZGGbcoVOPFTXjdrDlclsJQBgVgogdZ0XXXMYRRL8mmSQ8p9YmrCBokZka3RNG_TFnBCnJmaJk__xuHXQ_w/s1600/mexican-food-burrito-chips-thumb2527509.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 217px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0TGJvIFMb_Sy-e2DstwAVhm2zhTBSLLSVyTRfNU_PPBpXUbA5ozTiJ5Y9yAZGGbcoVOPFTXjdrDlclsJQBgVgogdZ0XXXMYRRL8mmSQ8p9YmrCBokZka3RNG_TFnBCnJmaJk__xuHXQ_w/s320/mexican-food-burrito-chips-thumb2527509.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5697309553036175234" /></a><br /><br /><br />Good luck to everyone who entered!Sparkleneelyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16227120176940674448noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8979421620708398229.post-19797247589654992212012-01-11T07:37:00.000-08:002012-01-11T08:01:47.972-08:00Deadline for the Giveaway Extended Until Friday the 13th!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZ3mHUixRtPBZKpfi1o_8GoKNg0HM_UCqck1aMw6hrYdcmEnCqHsNEzDAVNoFfNBk86VIFtNxy3mGfC4jHrilMQuHse6z1R6yRZKvlzQnVPESGYKaa4lPW_KgtOt_s63uGHTMs1xxPRBwt/s1600/Joan2.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZ3mHUixRtPBZKpfi1o_8GoKNg0HM_UCqck1aMw6hrYdcmEnCqHsNEzDAVNoFfNBk86VIFtNxy3mGfC4jHrilMQuHse6z1R6yRZKvlzQnVPESGYKaa4lPW_KgtOt_s63uGHTMs1xxPRBwt/s320/Joan2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5696399421866229970" /></a><br /><br />Joan reminded me that I have a previous engagement on Thursday night, so I can't choose the winner until Friday the 13th! Which I rather like -- it will be someone's lucky day.<br /><br />So stay tuned, dahlings! And if you haven't entered yet, go <a href="http://97thingstodobeforeiturn97.blogspot.com/2012/01/happy-new-year-and-fabulous-giveaway.html">here</a> and leave a comment. And please share the link and the love!<br /><br />Now if you'll excuse me, Joan just reminded me that I have a meeting with Maybelline. See you Friday, and good luck!Sparkleneelyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16227120176940674448noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8979421620708398229.post-43709322222710764602012-01-08T10:12:00.000-08:002012-01-08T10:31:14.267-08:00Reading is Fabulous and Fundamental.Reading is cool. Check it out:<br /><br />Bowie reads.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0OAU2nXYlq-TzLCMOL7ww5a84I-BuqZgdFXrAd9-is9ogcULHrDiRlR0BP_vFKNx5pqtsFqF54FuEXnsLVclLhMpNztBPhkLnDv7hSSwXvVe0jVYTUBysGfCMmCjMdtC9TTMxzIpJePby/s1600/Bowiereads.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 318px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0OAU2nXYlq-TzLCMOL7ww5a84I-BuqZgdFXrAd9-is9ogcULHrDiRlR0BP_vFKNx5pqtsFqF54FuEXnsLVclLhMpNztBPhkLnDv7hSSwXvVe0jVYTUBysGfCMmCjMdtC9TTMxzIpJePby/s320/Bowiereads.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5695325897181114386" /></a><br /><br />The Beatles read.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihrRuQPP0aFxxVQTj8tE5wDtmrkOFBv4wrxIojVMJ3CkByjybXUWArfsvBV2V2KMluxgDQNmjz994pJoqb3V7tDfuLOL3m9S28SiQU2hvXJhwgj0U19LnUZfnesvT6SUOpwmSSZZmamrUU/s1600/beatles.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 255px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihrRuQPP0aFxxVQTj8tE5wDtmrkOFBv4wrxIojVMJ3CkByjybXUWArfsvBV2V2KMluxgDQNmjz994pJoqb3V7tDfuLOL3m9S28SiQU2hvXJhwgj0U19LnUZfnesvT6SUOpwmSSZZmamrUU/s320/beatles.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5695327064828402050" /></a><br /><br /><br />La Liz reads.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJCsjlHvdWhge1e0xUFlmwzXe4MjxyNT3RqMZCNF9gYlRNvihIir9SfULYm99TQeInOwu4iVacW0f4QWHiCRMpBQN_sLNhDT1n7iEDpcfydiEoMCTC7PAu9Vhnngp1uMa4Gttx_AZXcYfK/s1600/Liz.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 246px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJCsjlHvdWhge1e0xUFlmwzXe4MjxyNT3RqMZCNF9gYlRNvihIir9SfULYm99TQeInOwu4iVacW0f4QWHiCRMpBQN_sLNhDT1n7iEDpcfydiEoMCTC7PAu9Vhnngp1uMa4Gttx_AZXcYfK/s320/Liz.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5695326334249584290" /></a><br /><br />Monty reads.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzx1XDcqnjcPSSA5dmpWCD_d7FI6Jl_DIGmKIN3pul9OoqnE8NDfhyGbCLmv6H-9uX4e-fDGNLQMLYxOZCYFtkDKqn2ehRnjCKJbRn24n19Qzp2pKIJj73XqAG3v-cFNANKGjKHx2L9CqI/s1600/monty.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 253px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzx1XDcqnjcPSSA5dmpWCD_d7FI6Jl_DIGmKIN3pul9OoqnE8NDfhyGbCLmv6H-9uX4e-fDGNLQMLYxOZCYFtkDKqn2ehRnjCKJbRn24n19Qzp2pKIJj73XqAG3v-cFNANKGjKHx2L9CqI/s320/monty.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5695326699458035746" /></a><br /><br />Winona reads.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOJjY057LYIalRrDf-tGDgVTs5CkZp0zqmp3SQeDjLDxJwXVCnBWJZ1n7vG7TV8W8Uvn1jH54AwikoJGv_UlLJGFxKIBntgWmZvdeGOtfGsq-SeiNGrmTbAYtjYEwGqRP6prdpl7EEMvFP/s1600/winona.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 283px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOJjY057LYIalRrDf-tGDgVTs5CkZp0zqmp3SQeDjLDxJwXVCnBWJZ1n7vG7TV8W8Uvn1jH54AwikoJGv_UlLJGFxKIBntgWmZvdeGOtfGsq-SeiNGrmTbAYtjYEwGqRP6prdpl7EEMvFP/s320/winona.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5695327621585836546" /></a><br /><br />Hipsters read.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTM1mRARlppTZmQslJX-ZjaDolejkGUxorMHPe-XpQ4MXtR5DE10kbBnHur3Vgee4RVk309_v7AurGaFe5TLg5LWckeL1sWmBVhuPhaT795jjtCF86oPjWZRqHwkZ85E6SlPXeE7XL-LJC/s1600/hipsters.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTM1mRARlppTZmQslJX-ZjaDolejkGUxorMHPe-XpQ4MXtR5DE10kbBnHur3Vgee4RVk309_v7AurGaFe5TLg5LWckeL1sWmBVhuPhaT795jjtCF86oPjWZRqHwkZ85E6SlPXeE7XL-LJC/s320/hipsters.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5695327861620468354" /></a><br /><br /><br />Marilyn reads "Leaves of Grass."<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjijCHIIW2_r29fGv8FBHkuunYLx8En_wWLc3hjlY9lbX9mn0TofIIEw6MyBpTbSNQxLtq2movwDhDZrpzr4YJ7sLI2Bk-1pg95rG1nHstKtlmvXikWrGDCD_VPA9eVsa8PaYfmoehtfAN8/s1600/MM.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 251px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjijCHIIW2_r29fGv8FBHkuunYLx8En_wWLc3hjlY9lbX9mn0TofIIEw6MyBpTbSNQxLtq2movwDhDZrpzr4YJ7sLI2Bk-1pg95rG1nHstKtlmvXikWrGDCD_VPA9eVsa8PaYfmoehtfAN8/s320/MM.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5695328482605258914" /></a><br /><br />So does Lisa Simpson.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNft2EMFFIi9uDjPwcV_nJM_k_VSZVM8-i4i7ovwQIHLAJtFBGuQHURjdfAUp7mgkuSi21oGJPt35306eAZ4X4n-E0NYcFid9XRodINZLIHvRjGyllQ_JpyNBRIvhxIWfaEqR31V8S_RZ4/s1600/lisa.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 178px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNft2EMFFIi9uDjPwcV_nJM_k_VSZVM8-i4i7ovwQIHLAJtFBGuQHURjdfAUp7mgkuSi21oGJPt35306eAZ4X4n-E0NYcFid9XRodINZLIHvRjGyllQ_JpyNBRIvhxIWfaEqR31V8S_RZ4/s320/lisa.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5695328792119609874" /></a><br /><br />(All images from the amazing Tumblr blog <a href="http://awesomepeoplereading.tumblr.com/">Awesome People Reading</a>)<br /><br />And YOU can be as cool as these people by checking out my last <a href="http://97thingstodobeforeiturn97.blogspot.com/2012/01/happy-new-year-and-fabulous-giveaway.html">post</a>, and entering to win the contest! The prize is a SIGNED edition of Lynn Peril's <span style="font-style:italic;"><span style="font-weight:bold;">Swimming in the Steno Pool</span></span>! All you need to do is leave a comment of one of your favorite books you've read lately (or ever), and you're automatically entered. I'll pick the winner January 12th. Click <a href="http://97thingstodobeforeiturn97.blogspot.com/2012/01/happy-new-year-and-fabulous-giveaway.html">here</a> to enter!<br /><br />Reading really <span style="font-style:italic;">is</span> fundamental and fabulous.Sparkleneelyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16227120176940674448noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8979421620708398229.post-83035492296676032692012-01-03T08:03:00.000-08:002012-01-03T08:06:07.360-08:00Happy New Year... and a FABULOUS GIVEAWAY!Well, hello there!<br /><br />It's a new year and this is kind of exciting: THIS IS MY 100th BLOG POST. I kinda feel like it's cheating because I'm supposed to be doing all these 97 things, right, and I only have 43 of them done and this is my 100th post. I know I'm bad at math, but something doesn't compute. But whatever, I have still hit "post" 100 times -- or will when I finish this! (Insert noisemaker sound here.)<br /><br />The reason I have the 100 is because I have written extra entries -- including the annual New Year "Hey Don't Give Up On Me!" post and <a href="http://97thingstodobeforeiturn97.blogspot.com/2009/11/back-on-my-soapbox.html">books I've loved</a>. Well, since this is the year I get Organized, I'm combining 2 posts into one. Isn't that clever? And read aaaaaallll the way to the bottom, and there will be another GIVEAWAY! (Insert that noisemaker sound again.)<br /><br />So one of my New Year's Resolutions is to read more this year, and I thought that if that was one of your resolutions, too, I'd give you a list of a few of my favorites I've read over the past year or so. I've read quite a few more, but I've been bad and haven't kept track and have lent them out and can't remember them off the top of my head. But here are some that I've really enjoyed, and I hope you'll enjoy them, too:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1xGnR-3HLM3pgc7LmAmNciHy_4lQO6rBwI2WFGtXVib7AKDUPedtfXpZoU2EpWikfTfYI66IFQYSTYeZFn95hDsMJzFz43gIQucen7BQDPRWwFQbaJrvGUdcTKTf3b9bPps-Yc4Ck6aR_/s1600/Swimming-in-the-Steno-Pool-Peril-Lynn-9780393338546.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 238px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1xGnR-3HLM3pgc7LmAmNciHy_4lQO6rBwI2WFGtXVib7AKDUPedtfXpZoU2EpWikfTfYI66IFQYSTYeZFn95hDsMJzFz43gIQucen7BQDPRWwFQbaJrvGUdcTKTf3b9bPps-Yc4Ck6aR_/s320/Swimming-in-the-Steno-Pool-Peril-Lynn-9780393338546.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5693283402778982354" /></a><br />2011 was a lucky year for us, because a new Lynn Peril book was released: <span style="font-style:italic;">Swimming in the Steno Pool</span>! This time around my favorite author tackled the subject of secretaries throughout history, and goes way beyond the stereotypes of "office wives" making coffee. Smart, witty, and informative, whether you know shorthand or not. A must!<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRS8cr-k8yUE0wrDxXXX2cb8mtlIhCoE8tuVPnHewa6Xo5kb27OGFd9pUJJXsTyy5KgWYvk_fJ_bKH50F7V1gPnManYZmjGYF-bzPVgUjQHos7wClAwkVxOxY4FypES4XQkeXoEoRM_V-O/s1600/swimtome.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRS8cr-k8yUE0wrDxXXX2cb8mtlIhCoE8tuVPnHewa6Xo5kb27OGFd9pUJJXsTyy5KgWYvk_fJ_bKH50F7V1gPnManYZmjGYF-bzPVgUjQHos7wClAwkVxOxY4FypES4XQkeXoEoRM_V-O/s320/swimtome.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5693283691519438098" /></a><br />Another book with "swim" in the title: <span style="font-style:italic;">Swim to Me</span> by Betsy Carter. I saw this in the Algonquin Books catalog and knew it would be a winner, because I love everything Algonquin publishes. This is no exception -- the story of a girl's journey to become a fabulous Weeki Watchee mermaid. When I was finished I was ready to book tickets to Florida and see the show.<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZh7XbGbP24pHAtzl7hZNLju5g4YpQZh90ncOJE-hqdrD-In6PIcgusgfKNnWH4d0ly5LlbyA4_39zNETIV41d5H6pIQ2pR0z1uGvSIffLS5gSDOlCEaIIGfLx4B5cLFz4qT3WiCeVlC0u/s1600/swamplandia.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 216px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZh7XbGbP24pHAtzl7hZNLju5g4YpQZh90ncOJE-hqdrD-In6PIcgusgfKNnWH4d0ly5LlbyA4_39zNETIV41d5H6pIQ2pR0z1uGvSIffLS5gSDOlCEaIIGfLx4B5cLFz4qT3WiCeVlC0u/s320/swamplandia.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5693284399910737650" /></a><br />Another one set in Florida, <span style="font-style:italic;">Swamplandia</span> by Karen Russell. I really liked this book and loved the premise, but I did have a problem with some of the details near the end -- but don't let my persnickety-ness deter you. (I didn't like <span style="font-style:italic;">Time Traveler's Wife</span> because of a minute detail, and it's everyone's favorite book.) I'd love to hear what you think!<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmABCyJ26J_DpsmHOHDz-82Os6Img6RFVmjJp_LEOq1HC1DrP7h_s3lGKJf2E3ZOQTilwSQvHp_yxjki5NT0QsAaQh8JRz7DP-tEIT9IZNSxWnekDH0AvdAberGJlkOj1S2Flb1S0wOEeh/s1600/room.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 209px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmABCyJ26J_DpsmHOHDz-82Os6Img6RFVmjJp_LEOq1HC1DrP7h_s3lGKJf2E3ZOQTilwSQvHp_yxjki5NT0QsAaQh8JRz7DP-tEIT9IZNSxWnekDH0AvdAberGJlkOj1S2Flb1S0wOEeh/s320/room.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5693285353185395842" /></a><br />Okay, this is old news by now (a lot of these are, but there are always gems in backlist titles that may get passed over the initial PR sweep), but I absolutely LOVED <span style="font-style:italic;">ROOM</span> by Emma Donoghue. So much so, in fact, that I still, to this day, think about the characters and wonder what they're doing, much like how I felt about <span style="font-style:italic;">Behind the Scenes at the Museum</span> by Kate Atkinson. So powerful, and what's funny is that when I first started reading, I had no idea how she could sustain the story. Oh, she does.<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEil-WkOz5zu_w836Ccbrcmla39CPrrz2KmG5SsLGncPU7oFlgSuW5EiQlJn6BaLoJmnw84RwgNFyoJVcFhISPn-EOWRy8WJs2aV3pO89J3QnM06y2SC_gKuvXp9cCDADrgi3WCgKwsarCeX/s1600/secret-history.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 207px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEil-WkOz5zu_w836Ccbrcmla39CPrrz2KmG5SsLGncPU7oFlgSuW5EiQlJn6BaLoJmnw84RwgNFyoJVcFhISPn-EOWRy8WJs2aV3pO89J3QnM06y2SC_gKuvXp9cCDADrgi3WCgKwsarCeX/s320/secret-history.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5693286730552482946" /></a><br />This is old news, too, but still very good news: <span style="font-style:italic;">The Secret History</span> by Donna Tartt. I read it when it first came out -- I bought into the hype of the wunderkind young author, and was so enthralled that I kept sneaking reads of it while I pretended to shelve books at the bookstore where I worked. This past year I went to dinner with a group of women, and one of them said that this book is her litmus test of potential friendships and standing gift to everyone with whom she's friends. I understand completely.<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidtsqF1JBePBOoe8PmpoJCXJVHnk5kskS3HsJeFZVSs1A0D0P9t7JmEoNPGsVbiDDi4EtPjecDz-QMD1Q1Db9CsuyF0wSKbOQx1FGRustgbTnyS909RCRSGDG1mE-MxI7LF6fxQDhJWjC-/s1600/Sloane+Crosley+Books.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 249px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidtsqF1JBePBOoe8PmpoJCXJVHnk5kskS3HsJeFZVSs1A0D0P9t7JmEoNPGsVbiDDi4EtPjecDz-QMD1Q1Db9CsuyF0wSKbOQx1FGRustgbTnyS909RCRSGDG1mE-MxI7LF6fxQDhJWjC-/s320/Sloane+Crosley+Books.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5693287520364755634" /></a><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">I Was Told There'd be Cake</span> and <span style="font-style:italic;">How Did You Get This Number</span> by Sloane Crosley. I kind of hate Sloane Crosley because she's another wunderkind -- super witty, a terrific writer, and cute. And has been compared to Dorothy Parker, David Sedaris and Sarah Vowell, three of my absolute favorites. I kind of hate her because I am totally jealous of her and wish I could be her. Sigh.<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIjaztNYM9geIFwYWyAfp-iWzK1fMkNMcyq2l42EAkwlzcO7_7sF6ydn2cdcc8IPIdrRu90lolHIiIqfV_N-ijiQTrJmcdaA3st6BUdQ1wd47edQO86R4jq6kVtlcYWQ-A2_2hm7ydpPNL/s1600/life+among+the+svages.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 224px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIjaztNYM9geIFwYWyAfp-iWzK1fMkNMcyq2l42EAkwlzcO7_7sF6ydn2cdcc8IPIdrRu90lolHIiIqfV_N-ijiQTrJmcdaA3st6BUdQ1wd47edQO86R4jq6kVtlcYWQ-A2_2hm7ydpPNL/s320/life+among+the+svages.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5693289512699705378" /></a><br />Another wit that had me laughing out loud, and that may surprise you if you've read "The Lottery" by Shirley Jackson, as it is one of the most horrifying (and best) short stories ever written. But one of the things that makes "The Lottery" so scary is how real it seems initially -- the everyday life of a housewife in an everyday town, but then horror seeps in. (I always thought that was what made Stephen King and Steven Spielberg's "Poltergeist" so popular, too -- everyday people confronted with terror.) <span style="font-style:italic;">Life Among the Savages</span> is Shirley Jackson's chronicle of her own life, and it is <span style="font-style:italic;">hysterical</span>. I want to go back and share all the funny parts here, but I won't. You need to read them for yourself. Those kooky kids!<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBYI3MMFDfMdMKehBBMEI6QpU6fT_7E0yxfvjb3Jm8IMXlsuzW_alV7cdDLk3nEUFV5ruTIhUFEjgInyZThgicwmqTsFiENCxDQzjZGV5_RgYrvsxAtm5fZdqfgywNrYDTsKAz8wEIWUFr/s1600/miss+p+book+cover+with+border.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 207px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBYI3MMFDfMdMKehBBMEI6QpU6fT_7E0yxfvjb3Jm8IMXlsuzW_alV7cdDLk3nEUFV5ruTIhUFEjgInyZThgicwmqTsFiENCxDQzjZGV5_RgYrvsxAtm5fZdqfgywNrYDTsKAz8wEIWUFr/s320/miss+p+book+cover+with+border.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5693291818025984322" /></a><br />Speaking of kooky kids... I bought <span style="font-style:italic;">Miss Peregrine's Home for Peculiar Children</span> by Ransom Riggs because I loved the cover, and it did NOT disappoint. It is all-around fantastic, from the premise, the craft, the story and the found photos within. It reminded me of the great books I read as a kid, with a little <span style="font-style:italic;">Geek Love</span> (but much, much sweeter) thrown in. I heard there's going to be a sequel and I CANNOT WAIT.<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2jw5vwpeuf2RM5yVgcEcbUI7mt-j8TKw2gsRH_rvSsBaxMxcwFsjIzCTUZKkH4bi484CQBMylRn0CeEU-sRNZFoTmAp8em9G-BuXLkEkN7w8SR4ZsS6SIr4i59s82klVEe5j3DYwYRgpM/s1600/chumpyfrontsmall.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 216px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2jw5vwpeuf2RM5yVgcEcbUI7mt-j8TKw2gsRH_rvSsBaxMxcwFsjIzCTUZKkH4bi484CQBMylRn0CeEU-sRNZFoTmAp8em9G-BuXLkEkN7w8SR4ZsS6SIr4i59s82klVEe5j3DYwYRgpM/s320/chumpyfrontsmall.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5693292762007612658" /></a><br />While Miss Peregrine had a group of peculiar kids, none of them were only a foot tall, but that's where <span style="font-style:italic;">Chumpy Walnut</span> by Will Viharo comes in. Chumpy (oh, how I love the name -- in fact, the book is chock full of fabulous names) is only 12 inches tall, but holds his own with lots of fast talkin' guys and dolls. The reviews call it "Runyon-esque," but I think it's way more Viharo-esque. Super fun read,complete with illustrations, and I'll bet you'll be wishing you had friends named Goosey, Hotsie and Cupey, too.<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEideynlfLK5e7WOgTZe87d7RbTjcR1e63aeAoNcw_qnusFd5hri0HvvNKPz3fRdexswGTZdBa24OoE05Fvqdbj8HOW-sAVcf20f-P3GwO9UHwPykTehWoNJystiwZUiNRKHHwcEJHLuAumU/s1600/frankie+pratt.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 219px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEideynlfLK5e7WOgTZe87d7RbTjcR1e63aeAoNcw_qnusFd5hri0HvvNKPz3fRdexswGTZdBa24OoE05Fvqdbj8HOW-sAVcf20f-P3GwO9UHwPykTehWoNJystiwZUiNRKHHwcEJHLuAumU/s320/frankie+pratt.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5693300369351272850" /></a><br />Another charming walk through the past, literally -- Caroline Preston, the author of <span style="font-style:italic;">The Scrapbook of Frankie Pratt</span>, has collected 1920's ephemera and crafted a story (much like the found photos of <span style="font-style:italic;">Miss Peregrine</span>) out of wonderful vintage illustrations, ads, photos, drawings, and knick knacks. And yet with just a few written words per page, she has written a novel with a terrific storyline that takes the reader from Cornish, NH, to Vassar to Manhattan to Paris and back to Cornish again and created a spunky character, the brave and independent Frankie.<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEie0i9rOV5bnmkrtGzANQCWjiQxGdGqUNLvphyphenhyphens7gOtYTSSzfava4Rns3ndxEnXrq0DZAg5oqpA43CnBJVHA1eYWU6DIUaZJuGNSx7dFkaSCg5cB3vnfuwa7xJTkJE3QnrXG857tLK644RJ/s1600/nyr+dud+cover.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 196px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEie0i9rOV5bnmkrtGzANQCWjiQxGdGqUNLvphyphenhyphens7gOtYTSSzfava4Rns3ndxEnXrq0DZAg5oqpA43CnBJVHA1eYWU6DIUaZJuGNSx7dFkaSCg5cB3vnfuwa7xJTkJE3QnrXG857tLK644RJ/s320/nyr+dud+cover.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5693302043894212290" /></a><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">The Dud Avocado</span> by Elaine Dundy. Another young girl's madcap adventures in Paris. God, I LOVED this book. Just get this line as she talks about wanting "to sin" and go to the Ritz in the 1950's: "I mean... oh... Luxe, satins and silks... leopardskins and peacock's tongues. Silk -- that's what I want rubbing against me. I feel so woolen all the time." Tres magnifique!<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYvnMZGQYxMRKOSAFp5NL41asOQJ_PSRzDwKjx4ehdDhMYKrxuDTi53vvshNsJNdU6um0PkBDn4BVLJKLPQtVS3dFE3uWMdAwPF9uDTJxcftKfXXA1i7KWkclhfFJpCbEt87OLdeza_wSx/s1600/rulesofciv.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYvnMZGQYxMRKOSAFp5NL41asOQJ_PSRzDwKjx4ehdDhMYKrxuDTi53vvshNsJNdU6um0PkBDn4BVLJKLPQtVS3dFE3uWMdAwPF9uDTJxcftKfXXA1i7KWkclhfFJpCbEt87OLdeza_wSx/s320/rulesofciv.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5693304037895552978" /></a><br />I suppose I was on a kick this year -- single, intrepid women from decades past. Hmmm. But this one, I think, is the best of the lot. (And trust me, I loved them all.) So much so that when I finished, I went right back to page one and savored it again for a few hours.<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgq74OxDGUkCoSERFMSzQjAWgclAnj5lfHfXE_nqetN8vJmOAarca_Fd5me5zr7AOd7Jq_WglbJWvmk0yQerFeO3fLr1foi2hm4pwelyl4W3_RpidJ3muuj7qvLMptgCbS9dqFnNFSFqPzI/s1600/fifthavehc_guide.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 211px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgq74OxDGUkCoSERFMSzQjAWgclAnj5lfHfXE_nqetN8vJmOAarca_Fd5me5zr7AOd7Jq_WglbJWvmk0yQerFeO3fLr1foi2hm4pwelyl4W3_RpidJ3muuj7qvLMptgCbS9dqFnNFSFqPzI/s320/fifthavehc_guide.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5693305770201854578" /></a><br />Well, of course one of the original New York "party girls," the ultimate spunky gal about town was Holly Golightly, one of my all-time favorite characters in literature. But, believe it or not, she's not one of my favorites on the big screen, as much as I love and absolutely adore Audrey Hepburn and Givenchy. <span style="font-style:italic;">Fifth Avenue 5 a.m.</span> is behind the scenes of the movie, and whether it's your most favorite film in the world or you feel the way I do, you will LOVE this book. Who knew that a "behind the scenes" look would be so enthralling? Trust me, it is.<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnEptxT1hrk51nLi9yrA66JsPVkM9R7UfHoXBrqcc7CVAYuF4KxXe8wEg-0Mmr_bKepVDH6gqFhum7LgNq8_y6nJ2u1Vb3SQNQNosCeifC3ewHQDLlrnJyMgD1XEjHOHWrHzMgU7RS1UAs/s1600/capote+party.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 210px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnEptxT1hrk51nLi9yrA66JsPVkM9R7UfHoXBrqcc7CVAYuF4KxXe8wEg-0Mmr_bKepVDH6gqFhum7LgNq8_y6nJ2u1Vb3SQNQNosCeifC3ewHQDLlrnJyMgD1XEjHOHWrHzMgU7RS1UAs/s320/capote+party.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5693306645419086706" /></a><br />And here he is, the creator of Holly, and one of my all-time, most revered authors. Now, Truman Capote was the party boy about town, and <span style="font-style:italic;">Party of the Century</span> is the story of his famous Black and White Ball, when Truman was at his peak of fabulosity. And a side note that's so exciting for me -- I bought this book less than a mile from where Truman lived as a child, next door to Harper Lee, in Monroeville, Alabama. (One of my best friends and I went on a pilgrimage there, and it was so wonderful! Here's a photo of me <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/sparkleneely/5826834477/in/set-72157626823697421/">at the site of Truman's old house!</a>) Capote came a long way from his humble beginnings, and this book is a taste of that -- literally, too -- check out the decadent recipe for The Plaza's chicken hash! <br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVCfUTG2auQXlXpLTN1kg_YjsDHNCoN7R6JM3XTeFOrWvXhhjk8Lv5VRYquPyd-FUJthdb8gcdk4wN29W2RilFcS6hgSzSjqXzqRlbazoW8eq1cHPrU7rMh8TFQddXOjBydB4TyDNE51jw/s1600/furiouslove.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVCfUTG2auQXlXpLTN1kg_YjsDHNCoN7R6JM3XTeFOrWvXhhjk8Lv5VRYquPyd-FUJthdb8gcdk4wN29W2RilFcS6hgSzSjqXzqRlbazoW8eq1cHPrU7rMh8TFQddXOjBydB4TyDNE51jw/s320/furiouslove.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5693308454467839058" /></a><br />Talk about GLAMOUR. I read this book while sitting on a crowded Southwest flight with the guy in front of me leaned all the way back, and a kid watching a movie on a laptop next to me with the volume turned up to 11 through his headphones, while eating a bland airport sandwich and pretzels. And there were Dick and Liz jetsetting on private planes and ginormous yachts, flying in food from Chasen's, spending millions of dollars on diamonds, and boozing it up like nobody's business. (Except it was EVERYBODY'S business. Even the Vatican's.)And yet... you still love them, and want it to work for them. I'd been chomping at the bit to read it since I read the excerpt in <span style="font-style:italic;">Vanity Fair</span>, and it was even better (and juicier) than I hoped it would be. And what's good about this -- the very good authors clearly respect Elizabeth and Richard, and that makes a difference.<br /><br /><br />And now, drumroll, please, the best book I've read all year:<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglwEs1wXITsPuYaDzx2yL1xoqg7oFeZGfL9-scrIoo-Q17IJNN5PX0hYVKWd4lVIYnXxqavi9tO86buwu3uXjlRJthxeqc5W7o_h6Ah7wBb9aAkSAbWvGuwUCun8urinQCOTIAVvM4Bnvv/s1600/ZsaZsaonelifetime.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 211px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglwEs1wXITsPuYaDzx2yL1xoqg7oFeZGfL9-scrIoo-Q17IJNN5PX0hYVKWd4lVIYnXxqavi9tO86buwu3uXjlRJthxeqc5W7o_h6Ah7wBb9aAkSAbWvGuwUCun8urinQCOTIAVvM4Bnvv/s320/ZsaZsaonelifetime.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5693311062493843906" /></a><br />ZSA ZSA. <span style="font-style:italic;">One Lifetime is Not Enough.</span> No,no it isn't. I am NOT kidding, this book is AMAZING. If you're friends with me on facebook, you know that already. And I hope I've converted you to the Church of Zsa Zsa. She has done EVERYTHING. You NEED this book. It will change your whole life, and you will start calling everyone dahling and realize that the Kardashians PALE in comparison to being famous for being famous -- the Gabors are the real thing, dahlings. Order it NOW. <br /><br />Speaking of ordering books, I implore you to order/buy from local bookstores and/or brick and mortars. I think you all know how I feel about this, and how important it is to support your local bookseller. Show them some love!<br /><br />Speaking of showing some love, it's giveaway time!<br /><br />Leave a comment of YOUR favorite book you've read all year, or ever, or on your To Read list -- I would love some new recommendations, or conversation for ones I've read, too! And please share this post on your blog, Facebook, Twitter, that Google Plus, myspace, friendster, with your mom... Everywhere! <br /><br />I'll draw a name from a bowl like I did <a href="http://97thingstodobeforeiturn97.blogspot.com/2011/02/and-winner-is.html">here</a>. And the prize will be the first book on this list, a copy of Lynn Peril's fabulous <span style="font-style:italic;">Swimming in the Steno Pool</span>! Hooray! Won't that be a great way to start 2012? I'll pick the winner on January 12 around 8 pm PST, so be sure to comment by then.<br /><br />Happy New Year, everyone, and thank you so much! And good luck!Sparkleneelyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16227120176940674448noreply@blogger.com43tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8979421620708398229.post-20169842414225074812011-12-30T22:44:00.002-08:002012-03-16T19:32:23.107-07:00Accomplishment #42: Make a Video (#51)Like many delusional children, I had dreams that I would grow up and be a glamorous movie star. (And <a href="http://97thingstodobeforeiturn97.blogspot.com/2008/08/accomplishment-4-connect-with-role.html">a writer.</a> And <a href="http://97thingstodobeforeiturn97.blogspot.com/2008/09/accomplishment-14-attend-theater.html">a Broadway sensation.</a> And an ice cream truck driver if those things didn't pan out.) I just knew I had that certain *something* that was special, and that I was destined for Greatness. Tatum O'Neal? BAH. Kristy McNichol? Pffft. Jodie Foster? No way! (Though one of my mom's friends told me I looked like her, in the era of <span style="font-style:italic;">Candleshoe</span>, and I cried. What I wouldn't give to look like her now.) They were NOTHINGS. I, Karen Finlay, was going to star in movies, be a regular on The Love Boat, AND be on the cover of Dynamite Magazine! (And be a writer, a Broadway sensation and an ice cream truck driver.) I was going to take the world by storm!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUei2pmP355qq7ubvX119vUHFHn03QxZ_X4wqvTxLtP0P3g5j74Gom76lZKaFHLkq4110oJ9dCGYdVfJzsvUJnStQ1n2igsS18bjsmrBZWpIkplSmpIFKwYg-dI6e9jq_Eo4xex_TGqCtG/s1600/kristydynamite.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 246px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUei2pmP355qq7ubvX119vUHFHn03QxZ_X4wqvTxLtP0P3g5j74Gom76lZKaFHLkq4110oJ9dCGYdVfJzsvUJnStQ1n2igsS18bjsmrBZWpIkplSmpIFKwYg-dI6e9jq_Eo4xex_TGqCtG/s320/kristydynamite.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5692370989261327842" /></a><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">This really should have been me. </span> From <a href="http://superseventies.tumblr.com/post/4475265626/1970s-retro-vintage-fashion-actress-magazine-kitsch">Super Seventies</a>.<br /><br />Alas, I lost a few things along the way to my star on Hollywood Blvd: All self-esteem and ambition once hitting puberty and junior high school -- or middle school as they call it nowadays -- that time frame between 11 and 13 that should, really, be totally illegal. But I did discover a fundamental truth about myself at a young age while auditioning for a minor role in a school production of <span style="font-style:italic;">Blithe Spirit</span>: I couldn't act my way out of a paper bag. I couldn't even <span style="font-style:italic;">lie</span> convincingly to my mom when asked, "Who ate all the Girl Scout cookies?" Nor could I tap dance, sing, have a fashionable hairstyle, or do math. (Math has nothing to do with it, but I really can't do math.) I also can't drive large vehicles, so my ice cream truck dreams were dashed, too.<br /><br />So I kind of stuck with the writing thing instead of the whole acting thing. But still, like most delusional people, I harbored a secret fantasy that <span style="font-style:italic;">someday</span> I would become a famous movie star -- but without really doing anything like have talent or beauty or mad acting skillz. Though I don't think being famous is as fun as it used to be -- I have gathered that in the past few years, in order to be a movie star, one must go to rehab, enroll in upper division college courses, have a baby (or pretend to), get married (but only for 1 month to 1 year), engage in what is called "canoodling" with rap stars, have a clothing line with your name on it but designed by people with the fashion sense of sewer rats, and one's only form of self-expression is infantile Twitter posts, because there's no time to actually make movies while keeping oneself famous. <br /><br />So being a movie star isn't quite as glamorous as it used to be, but some old dreams die hard. I can't help plotting my outfits and witty repartee for future appearances on the late-night talk show circuit and my Oscar acceptance speech anyway. A part of me longs for the greasepaint... The lights, the cameras, <span style="font-style:italic;">and</span> the action. <br /><br />Well, in 2011, those dreams came true! I, Karen Finlay, starred in not one but TWO films this year -- that's more than Natalie Portman, and she won the Oscar! (Though I know my Best Actress acceptance speech would be WAY better than hers. Harrummph.)<br /><br />The first one was a super cool project by my friend <a href="http://nicoleburch.com/">Nicole Burch</a>, who is an incredibly talented compositor and digital artist, and whose credits include <span style="font-style:italic;">Captain America</span> and <span style="font-style:italic;">Thor</span>! She had an idea for a 50's themed short she wanted to direct, and asked if we'd be willing to lend our house and star. Well, since I've wanted to be a famous movie star for like forever (and really, because Nicole is a dear friend and I was super honored to be asked), we jumped at the chance!<br /><br />And it was so much fun -- a REAL film crew came to the house, with lights and sound and all that professional equipment!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7uJjYZnk_QJ1P_GSaDKZYvXLVUyByG4aJvKA2xlCyfbWHo68WE7eGbQFMnDm-pwMdMHfWmrzYIqT3ll91f4LI4fT_kXfK0HMxm7VCpP_4AJW87UGMYs-1uD1LGevbo77gg1dMikAqZSAi/s1600/nicoleandkyle.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7uJjYZnk_QJ1P_GSaDKZYvXLVUyByG4aJvKA2xlCyfbWHo68WE7eGbQFMnDm-pwMdMHfWmrzYIqT3ll91f4LI4fT_kXfK0HMxm7VCpP_4AJW87UGMYs-1uD1LGevbo77gg1dMikAqZSAi/s320/nicoleandkyle.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5692209354707487554" /></a><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">Nicole and Kyle giving the thumbs up!</span><br /><br />And we did real takes and everything, and Nicole directed me on mad acting skillz:<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjsUuqhuglLlDshENkGY_uXsq9zU3DGDb4ktluFdJ1ltwIxIjfZd1x7cun-BzaTjfCeM_nXynTHjCsT_cehVOjjsvFjIDThExtqICh5nR9b4I1-H-La4f1NbZRRND7osZFi4tGz2hFPmNV/s1600/takes.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjsUuqhuglLlDshENkGY_uXsq9zU3DGDb4ktluFdJ1ltwIxIjfZd1x7cun-BzaTjfCeM_nXynTHjCsT_cehVOjjsvFjIDThExtqICh5nR9b4I1-H-La4f1NbZRRND7osZFi4tGz2hFPmNV/s320/takes.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5692211412648768098" /></a><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">"So, like, it should go there? How should I play it? Should I look happy? Sad? What would Zsa Zsa do?"</span><br /><br />And then when it was all over we were sad and were going to miss our new friends:<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjy8vfjq73Glh6eNP_pDZIwjyqAoK3oJuDs9r1M7P5W-EFR3E51UzufU-mdYW6s4Y16-ll5ElYPIz-tP9vyHOtX3J8HCyMwROkPWtIOyS8qbD2BolesBux51ZFdnfemH0fXVahOjhK0Wv3m/s1600/moviegang.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjy8vfjq73Glh6eNP_pDZIwjyqAoK3oJuDs9r1M7P5W-EFR3E51UzufU-mdYW6s4Y16-ll5ElYPIz-tP9vyHOtX3J8HCyMwROkPWtIOyS8qbD2BolesBux51ZFdnfemH0fXVahOjhK0Wv3m/s320/moviegang.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5692212414431949474" /></a><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">Jon, me, Nicole, Simranjit, Kyle and Jackie </span><br /><br />And then Nicole added 3D animation, the multi-talented <a href="http://www.wix.com/ryanrorie/ryanrorieimages#!">Ryan Rorie</a> added the soundtrack, and voila! It's Fantastic!<br /><br /><iframe src="http://player.vimeo.com/video/34199779?title=0&byline=0&portrait=0" width="400" height="225" frameborder="0" webkitAllowFullScreen mozallowfullscreen allowFullScreen></iframe><p><a href="http://vimeo.com/34199779">What's For Dinner?</a> from <a href="http://vimeo.com/user1938934">Nicole Burch</a> on <a href="http://vimeo.com">Vimeo</a>.</p><br /><br />I LOVE it! I wish I were a better actress (maybe I should have kept those dreams alive and taken a couple of acting classes for my Big Moment) for Nicole's sake, but wow! It was so cool to be part of it, and so awesome to see the final outcome. What a huge honor! <br /><br />But I didn't just take a hiatus and fly off to an exotic island vacation and canoodle with a local rap star, oh no. I jumped right back in front of the camera! I was thrilled to collaborate with my BFF <a href="http://carriedawaywithvintagegourmet.blogspot.com/">Carrie Swing</a>, whose blog, <a href="http://carriedawaywithvintagegourmet.blogspot.com/">Carried Away With Vintage Gourmet</a> is one of the best blogs out there. (Have you checked it out? If not, BOOKMARK IT NOW!) A girl after my own heart, she re-creates vintage recipes and blogs about it, with often hilarious results. We were talking about how we could bring the world of vintage recipes AND <a href="http://my2.tupperware.com/tup-html/K/karenfinlay-welcome.html">Tupperware</a> together (yes, I'm still selling the fantastic plastic!)and we decided to make a video!<br /><br />So after getting Jon to be the cameraman (and bartender), we filmed ourselves making "Best Oven Hash" from the 1963 <span style="font-style:italic;">Better Homes and Gardens So Good Meals</span> cookbook, using all Tupperware products (except for my mom's 1963 Fire King casserole dish -- don't ever put Tupperware in an oven!) and it was so fun!<br /><br /><iframe width="420" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/BL27GADsJ40" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe><br /> <br />Here's Carrie's <a href="http://carriedawaywithvintagegourmet.blogspot.com/2011/12/best-oven-hash.html">blog entry</a> that includes the recipe -- it really IS delicious! <br /><br />We didn't even practice OR edit! Not bad, I say... But if I were a movie critic, I would have to say that Carrie and Tupperware are the stars of the show, and I need to go to rehab and get on an intense Jillian Michaels workout routine and get rid of the weird lisp I just discovered I have. But you know what all that means? I am totally on my way to becoming a REAL movie star and on the cover of People and US Magazines! And isn't Julia Roberts married to her cameraman? See, I'm totally on the right path!<br /><br />Now, I know that the <a href="http://www.indiebound.org/book/9780979017308">book</a> said to MAKE a video, but don't worry, I did THAT, too!<br /><br /><object type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="400" height="300" data="http://www.flickr.com/apps/video/stewart.swf?v=109786" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000"> <param name="flashvars" value="intl_lang=en-us&photo_secret=8e4d8c86de&photo_id=6536649133"></param> <param name="movie" value="http://www.flickr.com/apps/video/stewart.swf?v=109786"></param> <param name="bgcolor" value="#000000"></param> <param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><embed type="application/x-shockwave-flash" src="http://www.flickr.com/apps/video/stewart.swf?v=109786" bgcolor="#000000" allowfullscreen="true" flashvars="intl_lang=en-us&photo_secret=8e4d8c86de&photo_id=6536649133" height="300" width="400"></embed></object><br /><br />CHECK OUT THE ARTISTRY. MARVEL at the technical aspects! Look at the zoom ins, and the sweep of terrifying food wreckage. See how the Sterno flames from the cabbage hover in the center, with Vienna sausages orbiting outwards? That is symbolism for the heat and passion within the artist's heart, and the ideas and creativity emanating like planets, representing crystalline thoughts realized from... Oh WHATEVER. It's 13 seconds of a flaming cabbage dish from this year's <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/sparkleneely/sets/72157628480500785/with/6536649133/">Mid-Century Supper Club Potluck</a>, but honestly it looks a lot better than most of the "arty" films I've endured. More festive anyway.<br /><br />So I'd like to thank the Academy, errr, <a href="http://nicoleburch.com/">Nicole</a> for asking us to be part of her special project, which was such an honor and so much fun; <a href="http://carriedawaywithvintagegourmet.blogspot.com/">Carrie</a> for being my BFF and fabulous collaborator, <a href="http://dynamitebrain.blogspot.com/">Jon</a> for being an awesome boyfriend, bartender and cameraman, <a href="http://my2.tupperware.com/tup-html/K/karenfinlay-product.html">Tupperware</a> for just being terrific, <a href="http://darlingpropaganda.com/">Mona San Filippo</a> for the flaming cabbage, and all of YOU for reading my blog! <br /><br />Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go to The Vanity Fair Oscar Party, because that's the fancy one, dahlings. I've chartered my own ice cream truck limo, and I can't wait to say, "In your FACE, Kristy McNichol!" Maybe we'll get on the cover of Dynamite Magazine together. And don't worry, I'll totally Tweet about it.<br /><br />Forty-two down, 55 to go.Sparkleneelyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16227120176940674448noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8979421620708398229.post-29891719345691072512011-12-24T10:44:00.001-08:002011-12-24T11:54:19.019-08:00Happy Holidays from 97-Land!Just checking in to wish all of you a very Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukkah, Kooky Kwanzaa, Fabulous Festivus or December 24th... Whatever you celebrate, hope it's a great one!<br /><br />I don't know about the rest of you, but Christmas is a bit of a challenge for me every year. I always want to Accomplish tons of stuff, like decorate with real fir boughs and holly, bake peppermint macaroons and cook figgy pudding, find perfect presents for everyone I know and wrap them beautifully using twigs and glitter, and eat things like goose. So, basically, do all the things I have never done before and that I am completely incapable of doing. And then I never do ANY of those things and suddenly it's Christmas Eve and I'm all, "OH NO. I still haven't finished shopping for the 3 people I DO have to shop for and I don't even know what figgy pudding IS!" I blame Martha Stewart, Charles Dickens, Lexus commercials and Pinterest for my inadequacy. <br /><br />This is where I SHOULD say, "But I'm not inadequate! Because those things aren't the true meaning and spirit of Christmas!" Yeah, yeah, yeah. We get enough "messages" forced upon us this time of year, so I'm not adding to that. Maybe I'll rant about it in July. Right now I'm just going to chalk it up to not finding the right balance between busy and lazy, and figgy pudding will just have to wait. Until July. (Or never. I think it sounds weird.) Besides, I'm doing laundry right now, and that's Accomplishing something! <br /><br />So today, I'm finally going to stop berating myself for lack of figgy pudding and macaroons, put on sweatpants, drink some nog and not do much of anything. Except get some last minutes gifts, brave the market for food for brunch tomorrow, bake cookies for Santa (I'm so glad he likes those Pillsbury dough rolls), make lunch for two trying-not-to-be-cranky children who I've already told that they have to do EVERYTHING I SAY ON CHRISTMAS EVE OR ELSE I'LL RAT THEM OUT TO SANTA, fight the crowds at Santa Claus Lane, go to a party, find all the presents I hid all over the house and don't remember where they are, and wrap them. THEN I'm putting in sweatpants, a tiara, and hitting the nog. Ahh well. It's tradition!<br /><br />But if you want to feel Accomplished and Christmas Spirit-y and stuff, you can donate to the blog's online food drive <a href="http://help.feedingamerica.org/site/TR/Events/PersonalFundraising?pxfid=3490&fr_id=1140&pg=fund">here</a>.<br /><br /><br />But my main Accomplishment in writing this post is wishing you all Happy Holidays, and to say thank you for reading this sporadic blog. I'll let the glamorous Gabors illustrate it more beautifully than I ever could:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnye0AbpLgeBZxDIv_VdXFNN9O6IjbRT70lekbm5g7fSSPubbO_CqEQZwvb5a7DLlxo3JUYnRhdZkxEVLi6gxbuTBPLjezN5oz0pDSxelh-fFEEfVa4N5uafzNhawDqLdhVtBUXBB0JCgP/s1600/gaborsxmas.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 220px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnye0AbpLgeBZxDIv_VdXFNN9O6IjbRT70lekbm5g7fSSPubbO_CqEQZwvb5a7DLlxo3JUYnRhdZkxEVLi6gxbuTBPLjezN5oz0pDSxelh-fFEEfVa4N5uafzNhawDqLdhVtBUXBB0JCgP/s320/gaborsxmas.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5689783075841125858" /></a><br /><br />Happy Holidays, dahlings! Go be merry and bright! xoxoSparkleneelyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16227120176940674448noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8979421620708398229.post-89932719322008601572011-10-30T20:02:00.001-07:002011-10-30T20:39:55.534-07:00Happy Halloween!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjB_Sys_SZp3p_yX1IkDWSReF3NKjDliyg6sEM2Glx2Qcppy2kWopR5bOI8mglzgobUoT6luENu_r4a7uxVxok505yoPJyQEIVI5M9sK2NTyGQA1u1aCF2NyijnO8hXqmqxsEd6kSqYxzwv/s1600/halloween_mask_portraits_2.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 222px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjB_Sys_SZp3p_yX1IkDWSReF3NKjDliyg6sEM2Glx2Qcppy2kWopR5bOI8mglzgobUoT6luENu_r4a7uxVxok505yoPJyQEIVI5M9sK2NTyGQA1u1aCF2NyijnO8hXqmqxsEd6kSqYxzwv/s320/halloween_mask_portraits_2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5669495319007071906" /></a> <a href="http://www.designsponge.com/2011/10/diy-project-vintage-halloween-masked-portraits.html"><span style="font-style:italic;">Love this.</span></a><br /><br /><br />BOO!<br /><br />I just wanted to wish all of you a Happy Halloween! I myself have not done any of the crazy hi-jinks I used to do in the days of old, thanks to being sick the week before this grand holiday. And, well, thanks to being kinda old. TP-ing sounds awful, as does doing shots with spooky names, and I don't find sexy zombie costumes sexy. But hey, this is coming from someone who is dressing up for work as Little Edie Beale from "Grey Gardens," so only about 4 people there will know who I am. The rest will think that I am a crazy homeless lady clutching a bag of Wonder Bread. Sigh.<br /><br />In any case, this is an Accomplishment because I've wanted to be Little Edie for so many years and I haven't done it which is stupid because it's the one costume where I don't have to buy anything, except the aforementioned Wonder Bread. However, last year I was Zombie Tupperware Lady which wasn't sexy but it was kind of AWESOME:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEir-HLkw7QwxHZ0x68BDHMZwmKjP4I3UiU8BglT7tUkgLbiMcK4wb7WYwUeZn7pi2CKUA113dEsIhY9KHfVcOUFwxpZRUNHPPAUPiceuhC9CP1dmnDW8V_B34PmctgpI3UyeGIOkEw4Fe_g/s1600/zombie.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEir-HLkw7QwxHZ0x68BDHMZwmKjP4I3UiU8BglT7tUkgLbiMcK4wb7WYwUeZn7pi2CKUA113dEsIhY9KHfVcOUFwxpZRUNHPPAUPiceuhC9CP1dmnDW8V_B34PmctgpI3UyeGIOkEw4Fe_g/s320/zombie.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5669488812857470946" /></a><br /><br />And to revisit the ghosts of Halloweens past, please click <a href="http://97thingstodobeforeiturn97.blogspot.com/2008/10/accomplishment-20-make-your-own.html">here</a>.<br /><br />Have a fantastic Halloween, everyone... And you have my full permission to trick anyone who hands out toothbrushes and/or little boxes of raisins. UGH.<br /><br /><iframe width="560" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/Qk4Zy_KZ6XY" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe><br /><br />Huurrrrryyyy baaaaaack! Huuuurrryyy baaaaaack!!!Sparkleneelyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16227120176940674448noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8979421620708398229.post-17696630879177666882011-10-22T11:18:00.001-07:002011-10-22T11:26:01.496-07:00Still working on #41...Look at these awesome people.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgc5uecqRldvd_yqy9aJ7UHv0UP4719P34JgdL5Joxytn4zDrA8saWvlxtn1nZ84F97NDdT4ZxEYb9EMDge6WD46uUt9xpxeNLfmnwWPMc8DxRZwUl-q950fGo2yxvLJxz2Z_5ZiZHDlEhb/s1600/food+bank.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgc5uecqRldvd_yqy9aJ7UHv0UP4719P34JgdL5Joxytn4zDrA8saWvlxtn1nZ84F97NDdT4ZxEYb9EMDge6WD46uUt9xpxeNLfmnwWPMc8DxRZwUl-q950fGo2yxvLJxz2Z_5ZiZHDlEhb/s320/food+bank.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5666382793453863026" /></a><br /><br />Those are my awesome coworkers at The Alameda County Community Food Bank!<br /><br />Today's the last day of National Food Bank Week. I must admit, all I've done is buy a few cans of food and donated, but I wish I'd done more.<br /><br />But one thing I can do is alert you to my last <a href="http://97thingstodobeforeiturn97.blogspot.com/2011/10/accomplishment-41-feed-needy-70.html">post</a>, and if you'd like to donate to <a href="http://help.feedingamerica.org/site/TR/Events/PersonalFundraising?pxfid=3490&fr_id=1140&pg=fund">The 97 Things Virtual Food Drive</a>, click the link! I'd like to reach $970 by the end of the year, and we're not even at 10%. Won't you please help? Even $5 goes a long way. And you feel TOTALLY Accomplished.<br /><br />Thanks, all!<br /><br />xoxoxoSparkleneelyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16227120176940674448noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8979421620708398229.post-10619173694451920492011-10-06T20:07:00.000-07:002011-10-07T00:19:44.913-07:00Accomplishment #41: Feed The Needy (#70)Among the many things on my To-Do List (for example: win the lottery, write a best selling novel, canoe down a lava bed in a titanium canoe), one of the things I've been meaning to do forever has been to volunteer at a local food bank. I've always thought it seemed like such a good and necessary thing to do, and something that would not only help others, but be rewarding, too. I had a friend who could never do anything on certain nights, and she never said why -- she just couldn't -- and would change the subject. When I finally pressed her long and hard enough (I was SURE she was having an affair), she admitted that she was volunteering at the local soup kitchen, and even taking Spanish classes so she could talk to a lot of the people she was serving. The way she spoke about it when her secret was revealed was so inspirational, and it made me want to help, too. (I wasn't even disappointed to discover that she wasn't having an affair. That's how happy she was.)<br /><br />But, as usual, life got in the way. Weekends are always busy. Work is tiring. Too broke to donate. And HOW does one even go about doing anything? The closest I ever got was Jennye and I collecting donations at <a href="http://97thingstodobeforeiturn97.blogspot.com/2009/01/accomplishment-23-throw-house-party-15.html">The Mid Century Supper Club Potlucks</a>, which yielded a lot of cans donated in a barrel at work, which was actually really great. But it wasn't until my BFF Leslie created a volunteer day for our work, and motivated 2 groups of us to help out at The Alameda County Community Food Bank that I finally got to do what I've been meaning to do for years. <br /><br />I wasn't sure what to expect. I knew you had to dress for warehouse conditions and wear close-toed shoes (which I always do anyway), but other than that, I had no idea. Would we be hauling cans? Sifting? (Jon had sifted, so he told me all about that.) Sorting?<br /><br />Turns out, it was none of the above. It was bagging celery.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTDR3Vwee_c78KM296Fft4e8lva-5Wz3MxbJtKyvKgqRvh2qUiYEtK_2NANau3OOL93f1S4Y1HUQcsInsZDZ0WwCr_3HTO7zUGH1wVvHBDB-G271aeFybQcDLGvBfUuirhXaJQ3niNPrMJ/s1600/Food+Bank+9-11+001.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTDR3Vwee_c78KM296Fft4e8lva-5Wz3MxbJtKyvKgqRvh2qUiYEtK_2NANau3OOL93f1S4Y1HUQcsInsZDZ0WwCr_3HTO7zUGH1wVvHBDB-G271aeFybQcDLGvBfUuirhXaJQ3niNPrMJ/s320/Food+Bank+9-11+001.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5660605871012208322" /></a><br /><br />Lots and lots of celery.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoK-ytQVxtYaexKqqbMJQ4Nxu8pwTJ8F9kWfQfNKU_UUqgsPd8c3oWd3r4OLVQ4k73XHL43gPZcHNwoar_Bzbo0CdpzVPslr81OMGX1ub7EwY5n_UJIzxXt4GcUAvtajZ-nMBEhbjLx_St/s1600/Food+Bank+9-11+006.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoK-ytQVxtYaexKqqbMJQ4Nxu8pwTJ8F9kWfQfNKU_UUqgsPd8c3oWd3r4OLVQ4k73XHL43gPZcHNwoar_Bzbo0CdpzVPslr81OMGX1ub7EwY5n_UJIzxXt4GcUAvtajZ-nMBEhbjLx_St/s320/Food+Bank+9-11+006.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5660606461790525634" /></a><br /><br />But by doing this:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyXoZQKsB07qx3D5oYUV9QOVGvRqjmHSU_KXU3AvGXiFli9AjRxACPEoxYEP7a7nFZv3Pzd3V-biRId6VR-cUzKxQPredtllRjZGXKEvrk_Dnqc7openSr01U0yLV6on8d-IY-xw8cmkN3/s1600/Food+Bank+9-11+010.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyXoZQKsB07qx3D5oYUV9QOVGvRqjmHSU_KXU3AvGXiFli9AjRxACPEoxYEP7a7nFZv3Pzd3V-biRId6VR-cUzKxQPredtllRjZGXKEvrk_Dnqc7openSr01U0yLV6on8d-IY-xw8cmkN3/s320/Food+Bank+9-11+010.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5660607277489957970" /></a><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">(This is Leslie in action, BTW. She gets a Big Blue Star in my book.)</span><br /><br />We wound up doing 6,082 pounds of this:<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigN3ujoF6K9CQWQaggAMrcMLVoKJX5pmar-Vqu1rlIy-oGF5SqH8yQdDCOmOrX9WSDy7OOTQHNMuhm4dgJRA97aMy0ypGNbq_GGtXzzWECbtjZvsbSE-BGsh8yb_AVb8Frx8_5hMw3PYFm/s1600/Food+Bank+9-11+009.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigN3ujoF6K9CQWQaggAMrcMLVoKJX5pmar-Vqu1rlIy-oGF5SqH8yQdDCOmOrX9WSDy7OOTQHNMuhm4dgJRA97aMy0ypGNbq_GGtXzzWECbtjZvsbSE-BGsh8yb_AVb8Frx8_5hMw3PYFm/s320/Food+Bank+9-11+009.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5660607946039193442" /></a><br /><br />And that, my friends, is an awesome feeling.<br /><br />The Alameda County Community Food Bank serves <span style="font-style:italic;">49,000 people a week</span>. One in six people in our county is hungry and can't afford food. And it's not just in Alameda county -- there are <span style="font-style:italic;">49 million</span> people across the United States struggling with hunger.* And if the economy doesn't get better, it will just get worse and more people will be relying on the food banks for help. We had an information session, and I don't know if there was a dry eye or a throat that didn't have a lump in that room. We were told stories of teachers who had always been fine financially, but like so many, they had gotten laid off and finally in desperation had to come to the food bank. And stories about fathers who couldn't afford to have birthday parties for their children, and the food bank made it possible. (Just thinking of these stories makes me well up all over again.) And there are many, many more stories on the news, on the internet, and even from the people you walk past every day. They may not necessarily be holding signs, but they're there. The food bank makes it possible for them to eat, and gain something just as important: dignity. I think we all walked out of there feeling really good that we had helped, and even more -- we were ready to do more.<br /><br />Around the same time that I volunteered, my awesome friend Mary started a virtual food drive called "Feed Oakland" through the Alameda County Community Food Bank and made it fun -- each neighborhood in Oakland "competed," and at the end of 30 days, she had raised $1500! The Food Bank is able to stretch dollars so that for every dollar donated, they can distribute $5 worth of good, nutritious food to families in need. Mary's great idea turned into $7500 worth of food!<br /><br />So I am totally stealing Mary's amazing idea for this blog (thanks, Mary!), and it just so happens that October 16-22 is National Food Bank Week -- I had no idea until I sat down tonight and started writing this blog. What perfect timing! <br /><br />I created a virtual food drive with Feeding America, so that anyone anywhere can donate. Feeding America is the leading domestic hunger relief organization, with network food banks serving every state. Feeding America’s nationwide network of over 200 food banks provides food and groceries to 33,500 food pantries, 4,500 soup kitchens and 3,600 emergency shelters. This extensive network helps feed 37 million Americans each year -- delivering over 3 billion pounds of food. Each week nearly 5.7 million people receive emergency food assistance from an agency served by a Feeding America member.<br /><br />And what's great about them is that for every dollar donated, they can provide SEVEN meals for hungry individuals. That's amazing!<br /><br />So if you can, please donate:<br /><br /><a href="http://help.feedingamerica.org/site/TR/Events/PersonalFundraising?pxfid=3490&fr_id=1140&pg=fund">The 97 Things Virtual Food Drive</a><br /><br />I made the goal $970. Get it? 97 Things = $970? Yeah, okay, it's cheesy, but I like it. And it's a good goal. That means if we can raise that money, that will be 679 meals for people who would otherwise have to go without. And please, spread the word! Email the link! Facebook the link! Blog the link! Learn and love the link! <br /><br />And there are other things you can do, too. Find your local food bank, call them, and ask them for a barrel for your workplace and ask your co-workers to bring in non-perishables. Leslie did that at our work, and now, every time I go to the grocery store, I buy 2 extra cans of something to donate. So easy to remember! This is Alameda County's list of what they need and take, and I'm sure it translates everywhere:<br /><br />Canned fruits and vegetables<br />Canned meats and fish<br />Peanut butter (in plastic jars -- no glass of any kind)<br />Pasta<br />Beans<br />Rice<br />Canned soup (low salt)<br />Low sugar cereal and oatmeal<br />Tomato sauce<br />Powdered milk<br /><br />And, of course, you can volunteer at your local food bank, too. Just remember that the holidays are usually booked up(which is a good thing) -- but they always need help the rest of the year.<br /><br /><br />So in honor of National Food Bank Week, please help! It would be fabulous if you donated to the blog's food drive, but really, anything anywhere helps. I myself am going to forgo MY favorite snack, Taco Flavored Doritos, and instead of buying that delicious treat I am going to donate the money I'd spend on them instead. I know I sound flip, but I am serious. And plus, it's good karma, and an even better feeling knowing you're helping someone who needs it. What an Accomplishment that is, right?<br /><br />Forty-one down, 56 to go.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIL8bm7ESpkz5LbBmm8u5rOxEbrB-ekWrJ06hBsTp43mLnWLtH_R_Odyn37Ls44c_Ll7Dh9wwdTsShUvQJ85s199kuqG6oVAJ0u69l5WX0K-Q90a3vciyIeVs8Kds-SNODnYkwmCMci31t/s1600/97apple.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 206px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIL8bm7ESpkz5LbBmm8u5rOxEbrB-ekWrJ06hBsTp43mLnWLtH_R_Odyn37Ls44c_Ll7Dh9wwdTsShUvQJ85s199kuqG6oVAJ0u69l5WX0K-Q90a3vciyIeVs8Kds-SNODnYkwmCMci31t/s320/97apple.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5660646098098529586" /></a> <br /><br />*Feeding America, 2011Sparkleneelyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16227120176940674448noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8979421620708398229.post-85478966264484322382011-10-05T20:17:00.000-07:002011-10-05T20:24:15.626-07:00Ew.Knock knock.<br /><br />Who's there?<br /><br />*crickets*<br /><br /><br />Oh dear. I did it again... TOO MUCH TIME BETWEEN POSTS. <br /><br />But! That's about to change, because I'm about to update aaaaalllll of my many (okay both) Accomplishments! Yes I am!<br /><br />But I want to say a big thank you for following me, and if you just joined the 97 Things Party Bus, welcome!<br /><br />And I am thrilled to have so many followers, and one very special "fan":<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiocmjdvBGJM44VyqKMX9T_JR6qjd0_snjJV0M-m88lgG_Tv3-IB4iZIq2pFztpxMTIghOF2evDSnhNhiIT6zoXdu0nFgPe-WK9l7vcSKLQT5VTS6MA1w7Ypar6CaIOVPHvJAxNsu9cZRAg/s1600/Scotty+as+moi.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiocmjdvBGJM44VyqKMX9T_JR6qjd0_snjJV0M-m88lgG_Tv3-IB4iZIq2pFztpxMTIghOF2evDSnhNhiIT6zoXdu0nFgPe-WK9l7vcSKLQT5VTS6MA1w7Ypar6CaIOVPHvJAxNsu9cZRAg/s320/Scotty+as+moi.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5660214030113433634" /></a><br /><br />They say imitation is the sincerest form of flattery... But hmmm. <br /><br />Onward!Sparkleneelyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16227120176940674448noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8979421620708398229.post-41558439734371660152011-02-28T21:07:00.001-08:002011-03-01T00:20:32.524-08:00AND THE WINNER IS...<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdcUjUC1P55fir58rDZW0_wxuRFsdMyYkFjMS6yA6rz6JpcH9uu73au6Men6UPnhJs75Zw-uXBkLMcSioKbSGWITCnKUvHgHxTCgGdehi8CK9oDNSCAVtyZGvdOd3ocCgrOSWmMWmwAcM2/s1600/CONTEST+001.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdcUjUC1P55fir58rDZW0_wxuRFsdMyYkFjMS6yA6rz6JpcH9uu73au6Men6UPnhJs75Zw-uXBkLMcSioKbSGWITCnKUvHgHxTCgGdehi8CK9oDNSCAVtyZGvdOd3ocCgrOSWmMWmwAcM2/s320/CONTEST+001.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5579021643473273122" /></a><br /><br />First of all, I want to that EVERYONE who entered! It was so much fun reading all your posts, and I was very impressed with all of you. You should all be very proud of your Accomplishments... And you're ALL winners as far as I'm concerned.<br /><br />Second of all, picking a winner is hard work, especially when you decide to film it. There's hair and makeup and lighting and camera and endless uploading, and when you have no people, it's hard. People, I had no people. And no script. I'm a total dork.<br /><br />So without further ado, the Jel-Ring Mold goes to:<br /><br /><iframe title="YouTube video player" width="480" height="390" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/fg5O1M4r9bo" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe><br /><br />Yes, ladies and gentlemen, the winner was SHONA!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVH__JgzOr5a1G_-bFWfhvwkZ09G5q2HMJGHd977EoZlrj4hfhoFtW5iLG7n-jtYMjlfL0u_IgWMP7R8mQWCCSy3ZUJQ7TvqfTbS15Feq083g8pPTJU315NYxLWJqLkraII7a_uhg_qOEy/s1600/CONTEST+003.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVH__JgzOr5a1G_-bFWfhvwkZ09G5q2HMJGHd977EoZlrj4hfhoFtW5iLG7n-jtYMjlfL0u_IgWMP7R8mQWCCSy3ZUJQ7TvqfTbS15Feq083g8pPTJU315NYxLWJqLkraII7a_uhg_qOEy/s320/CONTEST+003.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5579021375156787234" /></a><br /><br />So Shona, please email me at nsparkle at earthlink.net and send me your address AND your favorite flavor of Jell-O!<br /><br />And everyone else, I'd love to send you a thank you for entering -- please email me your addresses, too!<br /><br />Again, thanks so much to everyone who entered -- it was so much fun! So much so that I'm thinking of doing it again soon. Wheee!<br /><br />Thank you, all!Sparkleneelyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16227120176940674448noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8979421620708398229.post-63225534406349532362011-02-27T22:28:00.001-08:002011-02-27T22:43:11.432-08:00Last Day To Enter The Contest!What's more thrilling than winning an Oscar?<br /><br />Winning THIS, of course:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUBXlqJiPWkboIRj6iEw9jmyZuHnLn_aNHCOdbAGfD2Is2L41MXz-_Y1IetJ_IqSaBLSs7o3EQYurAqvbqs_rSe1wsImJcWx6wC3R6LsYG9HNWA-PHjOpJWjHXvc-yJ_wLkSFczyOfrFkG/s1600/photo-2.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 310px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUBXlqJiPWkboIRj6iEw9jmyZuHnLn_aNHCOdbAGfD2Is2L41MXz-_Y1IetJ_IqSaBLSs7o3EQYurAqvbqs_rSe1wsImJcWx6wC3R6LsYG9HNWA-PHjOpJWjHXvc-yJ_wLkSFczyOfrFkG/s320/photo-2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5578624137893428338" /></a><br /><br />Because then you can Accomplish Great Things like this:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhflidmiXDsnxy6tPT1P5FD5KpuYL1ZFd_D2VOXfiPPDeXFiQWl5qkSfSYd3HU-2mTGkHUlXOQ1MPE9nOOOu9beQFPxupe0TuoW82NnJqptcVPJ1oCwOXW2LiUbmzQwbIchw1H5ZM525uNk/s1600/jellowPC.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 208px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhflidmiXDsnxy6tPT1P5FD5KpuYL1ZFd_D2VOXfiPPDeXFiQWl5qkSfSYd3HU-2mTGkHUlXOQ1MPE9nOOOu9beQFPxupe0TuoW82NnJqptcVPJ1oCwOXW2LiUbmzQwbIchw1H5ZM525uNk/s320/jellowPC.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5578624531660796130" /></a><br /><br />And THIS:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfKcv88MhER_AMI2Jz_v_34Wx3FmfgjURnHQ9q1vtlonBqFYGe7qDJB7-h7NEazjKOLxZyO0yT928QTHFDPhogEvBqsVcRpYxi7OsCFtNZ9s5toN6cATiTpFUDUG2C2OVFhgFvQ_PGL5zN/s1600/gelatin+ring.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 218px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfKcv88MhER_AMI2Jz_v_34Wx3FmfgjURnHQ9q1vtlonBqFYGe7qDJB7-h7NEazjKOLxZyO0yT928QTHFDPhogEvBqsVcRpYxi7OsCFtNZ9s5toN6cATiTpFUDUG2C2OVFhgFvQ_PGL5zN/s320/gelatin+ring.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5578624736033905282" /></a><br /><br />And that's better than some statuette that just sits on your mantel, isn't it?<br /><br />But HURRY! Contest ends Feb. 28th at 8pm! That's when I'm going to pick the lucky winner. Which is thrilling for me because I get to say, "And The Jel-Ring Mold goes to..." <br /><br />Enter <a href="http://97thingstodobeforeiturn97.blogspot.com/2011/02/contest-time.html">HERE</a> for your chance to win! (And don't worry. Years of tap, ballet, voice lessons, acting and elocution classes, plastic surgery and relentless diets are unnecessary. You can even enter while wearing your pajamas if you want. But if you send me a picture of yourself wearing this, I'll send you a special prize.)<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguPaV1i7VgdUHumjzcU0k6N5Rdnl3S9r8_u-SnwzPne8VXgb3QSus0fcHTSGqcWyrPj5o2MHWpzAxSaJOGBWd4L1JZA3dJXrdvwDqkHRmECsujzfOv12M7bI3OrN7Y6rQj3pipwRgtQrNP/s1600/cher-oscars_l.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguPaV1i7VgdUHumjzcU0k6N5Rdnl3S9r8_u-SnwzPne8VXgb3QSus0fcHTSGqcWyrPj5o2MHWpzAxSaJOGBWd4L1JZA3dJXrdvwDqkHRmECsujzfOv12M7bI3OrN7Y6rQj3pipwRgtQrNP/s320/cher-oscars_l.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5578626783185685202" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br />See? My contest is WAY better than The Oscars. <br /><br />Good luck!Sparkleneelyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16227120176940674448noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8979421620708398229.post-59595476250018489682011-02-22T16:42:00.000-08:002011-02-23T19:06:42.590-08:00Accomplishment #40: Redo Your Bedroom (#1)When I was in high school, I switched bedrooms. The room I had up until 10th grade had a single bed, flower and strawberry motif bedspread and curtains, and close proximity to the kitchen but it lacked the most important tool in an 80's teenager's social life: a phone jack. It also had that fake French provincial furniture (which for some reason is hip now) and embarrassment of all embarrassments -- my dollhouse. No self-respecting new wave teenager had dollhouses in their rooms, so I tried to hide that baby-ish fact by taking down my unicorn and baby harp seal posters and replacing them with something much more <span style="font-style:italic;">sophisticated</span>, similar to this.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglk1E1tZtO9QoJabrkj3dyFSyv95Af7j-D1YmUHJnaXorwDhhhsFRO9qZdNTfyg42IEkY3aNqUu6jv8uJ9-IuYN8NYPO8L3fvDz-FmmNGFj4YjtMy_ILaIcNPpBnMRGXMpcZyfF3XH9PPB/s1600/airbrush.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 211px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglk1E1tZtO9QoJabrkj3dyFSyv95Af7j-D1YmUHJnaXorwDhhhsFRO9qZdNTfyg42IEkY3aNqUu6jv8uJ9-IuYN8NYPO8L3fvDz-FmmNGFj4YjtMy_ILaIcNPpBnMRGXMpcZyfF3XH9PPB/s320/airbrush.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5576680626434179570" /></a><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">Mine was worse, if you can believe it. It had 2 ladies with rainbows coming out of their mouths. GROSS. From <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/50809084@N04/">GBPosters' Flickr</a>.<br /><br /></span><br />But in 10th grade, I was in business. My mom and dad let me move into my sister's old room, which had not only a phone jack, but 2 beds for sleepovers AND I got to leave my rainbows, unicorns, fake French provincial and dollhouse behind. I was going to have the new wave bedroom of my dreams! (As long as I ignored the wicker headboards. They had to stay, much to my chagrin.) "I want gray walls and black bedspreads and black and white striped sheets," I told my mom, much to <span style="font-style:italic;">her</span> chagrin. <br /><br />"Are you sure?" she asked. "It could get sort of... well, depressing."<br /><br />"Oh no," I said. "I'm going to hang up posters and record covers and stuff." I think she sighed.<br /><br />But even though I was going to get my walls painted a tasteful dove gray, it wasn't going to happen right away and my parents gave me permission to draw and write on the walls. I envisioned a cool mural, something so amazing that I wouldn't even want to paint it over. Budding artist that (I thought) I was, I embarked on drawing a life-size picture of Twiggy that I copied from my dad's "This Fabulous Century: 1960-1970" book. Only problem was: I wasn't really a budding artist. After not getting Twiggy's hair (or face or body) right AT ALL, I drew a big bouffant instead. That didn't work very well, either, and since it was on the wall, I couldn't exactly crumple it up and start over. So I did what any dorky teenager would do: I changed the go-go girl into Boy George.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCemERi7zZaZYXS5DPB_PhcbombZumhMdFCu01sybWobxFYcUXoL70ccm9R26_zg5ykDk5m0sJrx96KlurMRY8dc1CdeiodK-9T_IrW9GPwpeLwyojjCtqtr92ktcM0yEachrMMnVZbfdZ/s1600/bgeorge.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 198px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCemERi7zZaZYXS5DPB_PhcbombZumhMdFCu01sybWobxFYcUXoL70ccm9R26_zg5ykDk5m0sJrx96KlurMRY8dc1CdeiodK-9T_IrW9GPwpeLwyojjCtqtr92ktcM0yEachrMMnVZbfdZ/s320/bgeorge.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5576687032204790514" /></a><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">See how that works? The hat and the hair over one eye totally fixed the misshapen bouffant and lopsided face, plus he wore tunics so that took care of the badly drawn body. </span><br /><br />So I had an ugly Boy George on my wall, plus my friend Karin and I wrote deep and meaningful Soft Cell lyrics everywhere, plus stuff like "I heart Bob" and my favorite band names du jour. Basically I treated my room like a giant Pee-Chee folder, and let's just say I wasn't exactly bummed to see Go-Go George and everything else get painted over. And at first it looked great -- my dad got my 2 favorite posters of The Beatles and Warhol's Marilyn framed, and it looked streamlined and cool (except for the dumb wicker headboards). But then, true to my word, I junked it all up with album covers, flyers, photos, clippings from magazines, books, knick-knacks, clothes everywhere and my bed was unmade more often than not. It was a total pit, but I totally loved it.<br /><br /><br />Now, a couple of decades later, things haven't changed much. I still junk up every bedroom I've ever lived in, and this one's no exception. Poor Jon has a dresser and the side of the bed, but our room is filled with all my stuff. Okay, no album covers and clippings -- just nicely framed prints of Avedon, Man Ray, Louise Dahl Wolfe and a few others -- but still. Everywhere you look there seems to be a ceramic poodle or a hatbox or shoes and jewelry and books tossed about. He is the clean one, and I am the cyclone, with bobby-pins and poodles flying in my wake. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh22dFzu8cQT4pi5fgiWbGhuhGdW3fYbj2RyHEv_K-UNXufKvGkaGPvvlq8DMtTdB3JxnTy1h7legRythyrgQwGHZ9oPs7PfXJGIFUvoi0yuCit_Dkt5NaxvWpnydLVIL0QC8o_nV6JUMz4/s1600/room.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh22dFzu8cQT4pi5fgiWbGhuhGdW3fYbj2RyHEv_K-UNXufKvGkaGPvvlq8DMtTdB3JxnTy1h7legRythyrgQwGHZ9oPs7PfXJGIFUvoi0yuCit_Dkt5NaxvWpnydLVIL0QC8o_nV6JUMz4/s320/room.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5576699819066603826" /></a><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">Stuff. Lots and lots of stuff.</span><br /><br />But I did sort of re-do the bedroom -- Jon hung up these nice shelves for me, and a few years ago, I traded our leopard comforter (which had seen better days)for a brand-new Target faux mod-atomic-something-or-other design.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKvejs6hK2kNBckixMo11_V-2VajSiolUIoz5NJsDoG3x_qe0HqYr34q_a4DkAu03Q2nx60qyY-nLKdKBshIn0rVhSt2oy5pW5QRqkUFcNQdY2J828_MzHnCKM1Xmw8OTKlPo9ZLrYP38j/s1600/bed.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKvejs6hK2kNBckixMo11_V-2VajSiolUIoz5NJsDoG3x_qe0HqYr34q_a4DkAu03Q2nx60qyY-nLKdKBshIn0rVhSt2oy5pW5QRqkUFcNQdY2J828_MzHnCKM1Xmw8OTKlPo9ZLrYP38j/s320/bed.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5576705738255760370" /></a><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">My "office." And Norman.</span><br /><br />And that's as far as we can really go -- since it's a rental, we can't paint or do much to it. And with my decor sensibilities, well, who would notice anyway? You'd be too busy fighting off the sensory overload that's already going on. Sometimes I'll go over to my friends' houses and see their beautiful, spare, Mid-Century style and get a pang of envy, but sometimes I meet people who are more like me -- people who have even <span style="font-style:italic;">more</span> stuff than I have and I love it.<br /><br />In fact, a few weeks ago I was invited to <a href="http://www.etsy.com/shop/moxiedeluxe">Dame Rusty's</a> house for a kitsch party, and the guest of honor was Allee Willis, who is not only a Grammy winning songwriter, but a Kitsch Aficionado and "curator of The Museum of Kitsch! It was fabulous, and her website and blog are so much fun! <a href="http://www.alleewillis.com/blog/2011/02/17/allee-willis%E2%80%99-kitsch-o%E2%80%99-the-day-%E2%80%93-junk-food-supreme-at-a-kitsch-lovers-party/">Click here to read all about the Kitsch Party</a>, and check out the link on the right to read about and see more of Allee's fun stuff and life. She is such an inspiration, and I was even honored to submit a photo to the AWMOK's Kitschenette! <a href="http://www.alleewillis.com/awmok/kitschenette/2011/02/23/1950s-handpainted-mexican-circle-skirt/">Click here for the coolness!</a><br /><br />In any case, while I would love to redo my bedroom, the new bedspread and cleaning stuff off my dresser is about as far as I can go these days. So instead, today I redid my blog!<br /><br />I hadn't updated since <a href="http://97thingstodobeforeiturn97.blogspot.com/2009/08/happy-anniversary-errr-blog-iversary-to.html">August 2009</a>, and it was time. So today I had some time on my hands and messed around a little bit, and here it is. I cleaned up the links and the layout and then started getting cuckoo with colors. It's a bit misleading because it looks like a vintage blog (or like the movie poster of <span style="font-style:italic;">Hairspray</span> or something like that) but whatevs. The background is the same fabric as my favorite purse, and I like the pink and blue and green accents. In short, it's sort of cluttered and busy just like my bedroom, so there you have it. Plus, like the one I did back in 2009, I think Zsa Zsa would approve of this one, too.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7eLDq-G8N_Lslrw7B0lUXkVxg6RJ9ECnE9GiUUFBjFDy7hyvUYSNniZZXNHHACSGFelyfm0qkzB3uLXxhnSv8zjJOWkFpkMWRYEVoo_s2FcypFuXWtgOf4CsYe09jxI_EMZJYNCpeoGOw/s1600/burks-law-zsa-zsa-gabor.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 256px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7eLDq-G8N_Lslrw7B0lUXkVxg6RJ9ECnE9GiUUFBjFDy7hyvUYSNniZZXNHHACSGFelyfm0qkzB3uLXxhnSv8zjJOWkFpkMWRYEVoo_s2FcypFuXWtgOf4CsYe09jxI_EMZJYNCpeoGOw/s320/burks-law-zsa-zsa-gabor.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5576718948080036354" /></a><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">I can only imagine how Zsa Zsa decorated her mansion! And we're not that different -- she just had real glamour dogs, and mine are all fake on my shelf.<br /></span><br /><br />And you know what? By redoing my blog, I feel totally Accomplished, even if I didn't get out of my pajamas all day. Which is my most favorite kind of Accomplishment.<br /><br />Forty down, 57 to go.<br /><br />PS Don't forget to enter <a href="http://97thingstodobeforeiturn97.blogspot.com/2011/02/contest-time.html">THE CONTEST!</a>Sparkleneelyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16227120176940674448noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8979421620708398229.post-47126146732989571962011-02-17T18:32:00.000-08:002011-02-22T14:11:45.865-08:00Contest Time!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXS4OvzaLizBi7mBWHr_x71kiOvYXvUO_FEfvicl3zM2eqmTd05vW15tvRF2DXm7FqRhBt0ekyvV0p8COD6e2FUu7DQ7X9tOPTOAOda9bGT0KfDVxxDh8DRsDX9-ynUctZuYle3S7MW4A3/s1600/lets-make-a-deal.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 187px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXS4OvzaLizBi7mBWHr_x71kiOvYXvUO_FEfvicl3zM2eqmTd05vW15tvRF2DXm7FqRhBt0ekyvV0p8COD6e2FUu7DQ7X9tOPTOAOda9bGT0KfDVxxDh8DRsDX9-ynUctZuYle3S7MW4A3/s320/lets-make-a-deal.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5574858924368451570" /></a><br /><br /><br />Hello daaaahlings!<br /><br />OVER TWO HUNDRED FOLLOWERS? How did THAT happen??? Now THAT is an Accomplishment! Especially since I've been so bad at updating these days...<br /><br />But to express my undying gratitude, it is time for a contest!<br /><br />Look behind Door #3 for this VALUABLE prize!<br /><br />Will it be:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisnrTWDSa6pPucvgbBPdzXlI7hFCkO84e0GzZhWCoZZjDFjr4uwkHvCzQFDSktYNMVYj2vYSklJpNGt0FBEVnawMEQYcEeESIK19xiVWOGohIQDBLFzuDZt8Ug_EBn-vtGtPvoOeTOdq2M/s1600/tumblr_layee36hJp1qbyf2j.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 203px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisnrTWDSa6pPucvgbBPdzXlI7hFCkO84e0GzZhWCoZZjDFjr4uwkHvCzQFDSktYNMVYj2vYSklJpNGt0FBEVnawMEQYcEeESIK19xiVWOGohIQDBLFzuDZt8Ug_EBn-vtGtPvoOeTOdq2M/s320/tumblr_layee36hJp1qbyf2j.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5574853764135454082" /></a><br /><br />A new electric oven and stove combo?<br /><br />No.<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNW9_V6zBQQo8jasqm_NniBWzZBb4W_Izcr3Cgh88X7AUS41dEXXF-i34d2AagnxxNnHLXvh71FG-JTLWaildfTsBb35OV-szmZ8eIxfwLUuIXT2dJq2simji7JeJ6_1CM9ZEThb7DLXXy/s1600/waterheater.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNW9_V6zBQQo8jasqm_NniBWzZBb4W_Izcr3Cgh88X7AUS41dEXXF-i34d2AagnxxNnHLXvh71FG-JTLWaildfTsBb35OV-szmZ8eIxfwLUuIXT2dJq2simji7JeJ6_1CM9ZEThb7DLXXy/s320/waterheater.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5574854207974739762" /></a><br /><br />An Alumilux Water Heater?<br /><br />No.<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeWeN2nRUmCNBH8jdKtqFhsmNWrlNc-ZrDzWhWQHFqEue_JGb-klKqVGQwPhCUrzPVCcrkcpawY6DdXqpvnquBDt7f8_yHEUOPZ4nnIcf2Cqecz-MuGCRyOWpDyuXquCgMUHsRSGG2QmYY/s1600/lamp.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 203px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeWeN2nRUmCNBH8jdKtqFhsmNWrlNc-ZrDzWhWQHFqEue_JGb-klKqVGQwPhCUrzPVCcrkcpawY6DdXqpvnquBDt7f8_yHEUOPZ4nnIcf2Cqecz-MuGCRyOWpDyuXquCgMUHsRSGG2QmYY/s320/lamp.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5574854506145360018" /></a><br /><br />The World's Ugliest Lamp?<br /><br />No.<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNzLVvRT0Sz1sC-wc8Swu085XyGtRbHjROHfDHOw42sjpBr6sKPrIu31Ov3no9VOF7RxHHbpVD44oB3pjuOuEcLSzZCK-IIda01o6nNHENYI7e9nyGqESyXVuBzUh6MZS3Vh4vjenzi5Q5/s1600/schnitzelbank.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 202px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNzLVvRT0Sz1sC-wc8Swu085XyGtRbHjROHfDHOw42sjpBr6sKPrIu31Ov3no9VOF7RxHHbpVD44oB3pjuOuEcLSzZCK-IIda01o6nNHENYI7e9nyGqESyXVuBzUh6MZS3Vh4vjenzi5Q5/s320/schnitzelbank.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5574854898942025874" /></a><br /><br /><br />SCHNITZELBANK?<br /><br />Whatever that is... But No.<br /><br />Behold... It's THIS!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfIQlF1X5-DR9nK_MlwxYiH-qkiZXDojzncChp2mUytEJcq3DMRuJR1-nD-d7YMvQt1yh0pNIRgoLFdpKryIJrPN0h8qnDO_R3CQriGDnmvwPmqJxLhUs1-nLDJrb2A-3IBsj1emp8CgVA/s1600/photo-1.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfIQlF1X5-DR9nK_MlwxYiH-qkiZXDojzncChp2mUytEJcq3DMRuJR1-nD-d7YMvQt1yh0pNIRgoLFdpKryIJrPN0h8qnDO_R3CQriGDnmvwPmqJxLhUs1-nLDJrb2A-3IBsj1emp8CgVA/s320/photo-1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5574855252044568450" /></a><br /><br />Yes, ladies and gentlemen, that is correct. The grand prize is A TUPPERWARE JEL-RING MOLD!<br /><br />You will also receive a vintage 1940's JELL-O "cookbook"... and a sweet apron so you can serve your Jell-O in style!<br /><br />And that's not all... You will also win a free made by me CD of special songs to serve Jell-O by!<br /><br />What, you think you're done? Nope! I will throw in your very own BOX OF JELL-O! (Winner will get to choose the flavor.)<br /><br />And Turtle Wax!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinoI719orXr3lwufFnb1REltMBnHX5hIuLXYemWbOaYuIFOc8E1vZgNOH0kvzOQ1RLbwMoNNblRV110wbSUcnyBo8yIzxD0ydmt0sgTxgJY3WWmG1o9Hfq8Pzzs_z-1tEHLSvyxDYv3qQf/s1600/turtlewax2.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 245px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinoI719orXr3lwufFnb1REltMBnHX5hIuLXYemWbOaYuIFOc8E1vZgNOH0kvzOQ1RLbwMoNNblRV110wbSUcnyBo8yIzxD0ydmt0sgTxgJY3WWmG1o9Hfq8Pzzs_z-1tEHLSvyxDYv3qQf/s320/turtlewax2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5574861167505971746" /></a><br />(Okay, not really on the Turtle Wax. But they always had it as a prize on game shows when I was little and I had NO idea what it was -- I thought it was to wax turtles. How bummed I was when I figured out it was for dumb old cars.)<br /><br /><br /><br />What is all this worth, Monty? Well... about five dollars, but really, it's PRICELESS. Because not only can you serve Jell-O in this, you can make a MEAT RING, TOO!<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgua3ZdcqM2zP6VQXUhT8_PIBpCrXmkgYz3JETQ9DI_WhLhfPKGDkxeynSyZr8bAdktLuga3ryDEYS0DXIasf71AlVQZlo74JBZBVu91E2ceRnYcq5Avdbk0lIp5d0jnmbAHLbtW64MdNDN/s1600/meatring.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 230px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgua3ZdcqM2zP6VQXUhT8_PIBpCrXmkgYz3JETQ9DI_WhLhfPKGDkxeynSyZr8bAdktLuga3ryDEYS0DXIasf71AlVQZlo74JBZBVu91E2ceRnYcq5Avdbk0lIp5d0jnmbAHLbtW64MdNDN/s320/meatring.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5574859468299360034" /></a><br />Totally stolen from one of the best photostreams in the universe, <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/charmandpoise/">Charm and Poise's Flickr</a>.<br /><br /><br />Okay, here are the rules:<br /><br />-- Leave me a comment on here, telling me one of YOUR Accomplishments. It can be anything from a Mother Teresa-like endeavor where you saved an entire village of starving kittens from drowning (to make the rest of us look bad) or simply getting out of bed this morning (which I barely did, so there you go).<br /><br />--Spread the joy! Post it on your blog, your facebook, your Twitter, a billboard in your hometown... I don't care. But any of that would be awesome -- the more the merrier!<br /><br />-- Sit tight! I will choose a winner at random on Monday, Feb. 28th at around 8pm PST.<br /><br />-- And good luck!<br /><br />Seriously, you guys -- thanks for following me and being so fabulous. I appreciate all of you... you're the wind beneath my wings. If I had wings.<br /><br />Wheeeee!!!!!<br /><br />xoxoxoxo,<br />SparkleneelySparkleneelyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16227120176940674448noreply@blogger.com39tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8979421620708398229.post-86471755967262877652011-02-06T11:42:00.001-08:002011-02-06T23:35:45.656-08:00Accomplishment #39: Write A Real Letter (#62)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTXs2WAbE2pyDDv0b4iGJbcnAKrvKJeUSjJcxEt6QkxY5lRKY1PvaUz2g8G2x468FHZJ2_9BLOqn7nmrh5g1LgOJUlzaRHmlooUWfX6WAcsGhSeYVswD95ek02BRsnJ53s7cXnAOmCC_eb/s1600/NoMailDays.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 220px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTXs2WAbE2pyDDv0b4iGJbcnAKrvKJeUSjJcxEt6QkxY5lRKY1PvaUz2g8G2x468FHZJ2_9BLOqn7nmrh5g1LgOJUlzaRHmlooUWfX6WAcsGhSeYVswD95ek02BRsnJ53s7cXnAOmCC_eb/s320/NoMailDays.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5570658016162551234" /></a><br /><br />As I've told you before, <a href="http://97thingstodobeforeiturn97.blogspot.com/2008/09/accomplishment-13-correspond-with-pen.html">I am a terrible correspondent.</a> (You think this blog is bad? You should see my horrible inboxes on facebook, email, and probably myspace and friendster, too.) <br /><br />But I looove getting mail. These days all I get are bills, coupons, and today I got the lovely whammy of a $260 "parking" ticket that I wasn't even aware of. (Curses on you, secret cameras at bus stops when I only stopped for ONE SECOND!) <br /><br />The last crazy thing I got in the mail was THIS:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_HX0Mqlxvasyxb7Gz8jYDL6XJTkHRLByLujgsfnzb4ool14lkJY2OvoY5jXPyx5Lxa1rHtSG1JsKjEtEXa94_vKCuuhwXHyr40wA7o-Hg-gXXxPS-mGdwdUkCdrstpfahhLlveCJWyI3i/s1600/scaryclown.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_HX0Mqlxvasyxb7Gz8jYDL6XJTkHRLByLujgsfnzb4ool14lkJY2OvoY5jXPyx5Lxa1rHtSG1JsKjEtEXa94_vKCuuhwXHyr40wA7o-Hg-gXXxPS-mGdwdUkCdrstpfahhLlveCJWyI3i/s320/scaryclown.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5570450558166581298" /></a><br /><br />I mean sweet jeebus, what IS this? I'm sorry, there is nothing more frightening than what could very well be the 4th Horseman of the Apocalypse rendered as a wistful, unfinished clown. I was certain it was a death threat. Turns out it's some sort of circus thing that the previous tenant belonged to so it wasn't even for me, but I certainly enjoyed the delicious terror I felt and paranoid speculation I made upon receiving it. <br /><br />But other than that, there's been nothing good in my mailbox for a long, long time. I got quite a few lovely Christmas cards, but considering I haven't sent seasons' greetings since the last century, receiving those are bittersweet. I always feel terrible because I know I'm never going to get around to reciprocating, and it makes me feel like a bad friend/cousin/niece, but I love getting cards and I tell myself, "Next year!" Or that perhaps I'll send Groundhog Day cards instead. Oh. Whoops.<br /><br />The thing is, I love the whole <span style="font-style:italic;">idea</span> of mail. And if you know me at all or have followed this blog for a while, you know that I love the whole idea of printed words on paper -- books over Kindle, etc. etc. etc. I love the feel and even the scent. I love beautiful stationery and lovely crafty letterpress cards, and marvel at pretty penmanship. I get excited when I see cute <a href="http://www.whorange.net/whorange/2011/01/forever-stamptastic-american-industrial-design.html">stamps</a>. I love the idea of life stories in letters, preserved for future generations. <br /><br />In fact, on that topic, here's a side note digression about a letter that was the best story I heard in 2011. I was in Nashville, talking to an author about how I wanted to go to Monroeville, Alabama, to see Harper Lee's hometown. The man told me that he had bought a used book, a copy of Gerald Clarke's biography of Truman Capote, and inside he found a handwritten letter signed, "Nell." That's Harper Lee's real name. The letter was from Harper Lee to a close friend who had passed away (his estate sold his books to this store), and it explained why she cut ties with Capote, which is something she has never discussed. So not only did this letter found under the most unlikely circumstances clear up a literal literary mystery, but it has turned out to be a treasure for this man as well. And a story that made me writhe with joy. (If you ever want to see my mad love for Harper Lee, go <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HQFptOdOu_M">here</a> to watch me babble -- I talk how I write, or vice versa.)<br /><br />Anyway, I love mail, even if I'm not good at it. But a few weeks ago, my friend Carla lamented on facebook (oh, the irony!), <span style="font-style:italic;">I think it would be nice to drop out of the social network and go back to sending real letters on real stationery with real photographs enclosed.</span> I, along with a few other people <span style="font-style:italic;">Liked</span> it and agreed with her, and as facebook comments evolved into conversation, it was decided that postcards were the way to go. Quick, quirky and fun, cheaper to buy and send, and not a long letter commitment. And everyone loves getting postcards, unless they're of scary Apocalypse Clowns. (Though some people like scary Apocalypse Clowns, I'm sure.)<br /><br />And thus,<a href="http://www.facebook.com/?ref=home#!/pages/The-Great-Postcard-Project/178209882217988">The Great Postcard Project</a> was born! <br /><br /><br />Here is the Mission and Vision statement from Carla:<br /><span style="font-style:italic;"><br /> Not so very long ago, people communicated in ways that did not require clicking a Send button.<br /> Pen pals, family members and businesses used handwritten messages to send information.<br /><br /> Sending postcards may not change the world but they cause us to connect with each other in a tangible way that gives the recipient more than just another message in their email account Inbox. And after all, who doesn't like receiving postcards in the mail?<br /><br /> The possibilities are almost limitless!<br /><br /> The basic guidelines are simple:<br /> Send a postcard to someone you know.<br /> Send a postcard to at least one person you've never met (you may have to enlist your friends/family/coworker/neighbors to help with this part)<br /> Put your return address or the address of someone else on the postcards to keep the Project going.<br /> Keep it friendly. It is a criminal offense in most countries to send obscene or threatening messages through the mail.<br /> Be creative! Make your own postcards or customize existing ones.<br /> Finally, tell your friends! There was a time when people had pen pals instead of 900 virtual friends. Let's see if there is some value in real written communication.<br /> <br /><br /> The Great Postcard Project began in January 2011 as a global experiment to see if an expanding network of people will connect with each other in a non-digital way that involves just a small amount of energy, effort and sincerity. Postcards were chosen as the primary means of communication due to their availability, reasonable cost and potential for creativity. </span><br /><br /><br />Just a few weeks ago, I was cleaning out my desk and I found a box of postcards -- a stack of received ones that I read over and it was so nice. It was almost like a journal: <span style="font-style:italic;">Oh, this is from when Leslie moved to Brooklyn</span> and <span style="font-style:italic;">This is from Lara and Leah from Prague</span> and <span style="font-style:italic;">That was the year Barb and I went to Vegas for Elvis's High Holy Day</span> and <span style="font-style:italic;">What was Scotty on when he wrote THIS?</span> It was so fun going through them -- feeling nostalgic, but also happy that my friends took the time to write me a postcard.<br /><br />Also in the box was a HUGE stack of un-mailed postcards. A bunch of them were from when bars used to have those free advertising postcard kiosks, and I'd grabbed a bunch I liked and for some reason held onto them -- maaaybe I'd send them someday. But then there were lots more from when I worked at the bookstore -- simply images I loved and had held onto, thinking I'd never find them again. And more beloved images that had hung up on my bulletin boards and on dorm room walls, kept for sentimentality. But then I realized I was hoarding these postcards. Now with the internet, all these images are in easy grasp, and the ones that aren't I can scan if I needed to. I made up my mind to eventually deal with it, and put the box away and finished cleaning my desk.<br /><br />Just a few weeks later, Carla posted her idea, and I was thrilled. An excuse to send out these postcards and free them into the world and make people happy! I jumped in feet first -- SUPER enthusiastically. <br /><br />So far I've sent about 40 postcards to friends and strangers, and have gotten some really fabulous ones back -- some from people I know, and some from strangers which is fun. And I still have a list of people who will be getting one -- I decided that instead of doing a bunch at a time, I'll do a few a night to stretch the project out for a while, and I won't burn out. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUtB_cp5lAD85Xo9QwonnXmhomQ2SGx_n4ja1SB_2bBdZmKVqJzTofhpxAqqYZ0cAkiH5QFJSWM4oZPxj9wfslpAhx-aX6OBTunOGjwbkitEDsfKkYjWGB2_P2b5xcNRFrcp6doSbvsZld/s1600/postcardproject.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUtB_cp5lAD85Xo9QwonnXmhomQ2SGx_n4ja1SB_2bBdZmKVqJzTofhpxAqqYZ0cAkiH5QFJSWM4oZPxj9wfslpAhx-aX6OBTunOGjwbkitEDsfKkYjWGB2_P2b5xcNRFrcp6doSbvsZld/s320/postcardproject.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5570658731720826242" /></a><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">Some of the postcards I've gotten, and some to send</span><br /><br />Even the most fabulous publisher ever (and publisher of the most fabulous postcard books ever, Chronicle Books, got wind of our project and featured it in their blog! Click <a href="http://www.chroniclebooks.com/blog/2011/02/04/paper-goods-post-haste/">here</a> and check it out!<br /><br />And it's been so great -- I've heard from people that just getting the postcards made their day better. Isn't that what it's all about? And personally, opening the mailbox and seeing something nice (instead of scary clowns and parking tickets) has made me so happy. I don't even care if I get many back -- it's the sending that I've enjoyed so much. Even actually GOING TO THE POST OFFICE to buy stamps has been fun, which is weird.<br /><br />Please join the group and join the fun!<a href="http://www.facebook.com/karen.finlay#!/pages/The-Great-Postcard-Project/178209882217988">The Great Postcard Project on facebook</a> And it's easy -- just send postcards to people from whom you already have addresses (you MUST have your old non-digital address book around somewhere!) and ask your friends for their friends' addresses and send some of those along, too. And hey, if you want me to send you a postcard, send me an email -- nsparkle at earthlink.net. <br /><br />If this project picks up steam (and I really hope it does!), postcards will be mailed all over the world. Think of how many people that can be affected in a positive way -- that's a nice thought. And the USPS will LOVE YOU FOR IT. <br /> <br /><br />And maybe you'll be lucky enough to receive a 3D POODLE!!!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGtOviot1GXM4oVVR4os-5qdowSJM_PHp1xtzPJ8UcONB_fIKImxEOF69tOCyx268q1TFhiBlJ4giFlI9caetcra3XAO2cLc3nIjTu3fS2aSzihit_6LxAo1X2gGtaT_-hYAQSfQHZKTqr/s1600/poodles.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGtOviot1GXM4oVVR4os-5qdowSJM_PHp1xtzPJ8UcONB_fIKImxEOF69tOCyx268q1TFhiBlJ4giFlI9caetcra3XAO2cLc3nIjTu3fS2aSzihit_6LxAo1X2gGtaT_-hYAQSfQHZKTqr/s320/poodles.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5570847376106340386" /></a><br /><br /><br />And yeah, okay. So this Accomplishment was supposed to be "Write a Real Letter," but I feel Accomplished sending out a bunch of little ones. Baby steps, I suppose. Hey, there are stamps involved. That counts, right? <br /><br />Thirty-nine down, 58 to go.Sparkleneelyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16227120176940674448noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8979421620708398229.post-33355205491428420142011-02-05T16:16:00.000-08:002011-02-05T20:39:29.631-08:002011 = My Sheila E YearHello, dear Followers!<br /><br />Wow. If this blog's archives are any indication, I Accomplished ONE thing in 2010. Which, actually, sounds about right. Okay, let me think. In 2010 I... Um... I... Hmmm.<br /><br />Yeah, pretty much right on the mark. Though I did win the Batter Blaster contest which was awesome and did The SF AIDS Walk again, which does my heart good. And I've sold some Tupperware, so that's an Accomplishment -- even though I'm not exactly the busiest Tupperware Lady on the planet. I wish I could do it more, but life gets in the way of Fantastic Plastic and Accomplishing stuff.<br /><br />But as far as a personal Accomplishment, this was a highlight: I got to stay at The Algonquin Hotel which has been a dream of mine since I was a freshman in high school and discovered Dorothy Parker and wanted to be JUST LIKE HER. They even gave me a FRUIT PLATE and a stuffed Matilda cat, but I have a feeling they thought I was someone else. Like someone famous or important, and I didn't want to correct them and have them take my fruit plate back. But I did become quite a bit like Dorothy Parker after a few drinks in the lobby, so actually that fruit plate came in quite handy the next morning when I wasn't feeling so hot. I love The Gonk!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZSGCaSCH-7ONMeRiDzNjV3Uhq9bAi7dbVEEpwpomQdgfxSb4gydgZky8GEi_f7_4HJNybIetoYw5KjeUhXqMotymyJFvEKUcninLCs0YgBppn1nptTaIum7ZotP1xIka_6-CBscKIeIhS/s1600/fruitplate.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZSGCaSCH-7ONMeRiDzNjV3Uhq9bAi7dbVEEpwpomQdgfxSb4gydgZky8GEi_f7_4HJNybIetoYw5KjeUhXqMotymyJFvEKUcninLCs0YgBppn1nptTaIum7ZotP1xIka_6-CBscKIeIhS/s320/fruitplate.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5570366628984615490" /></a><span style="font-style:italic;">I bet Dorothy Parker never got a fruit plate.</span><br /><br />But, honestly, I did make it another year and had a good time. My family and friends are well, and I am thankful for them all. I read a lot of great books, went to a very special wedding, traveled a bit, eliminated baggage, and got a new couch. So 2010 was pretty good, even if it was LAZY. I blame <a href="http://97thingstodobeforeiturn97.blogspot.com/2010/01/happy-new-year.html">GETTING SNUGGIE-FIED.</a><br /><br />In any case, my resolutions for this year are actually attainable, so that I can Accomplish them. One of them is to get dressed up more often, which I already have:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixQHkx6-iflBhuUgnPxTAGUy4dc1JE8PDz6sG4ZV1NoLE_VTKnpXyEQa4a_Cg_HdGrG-xizz1MBLL3qCsScOzM33dtcrajPMYrmA2TwnQAYQMeUUWAlxHz8nNbu8y1bSnJHA9Zk0eL2z9U/s1600/fancyladies.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixQHkx6-iflBhuUgnPxTAGUy4dc1JE8PDz6sG4ZV1NoLE_VTKnpXyEQa4a_Cg_HdGrG-xizz1MBLL3qCsScOzM33dtcrajPMYrmA2TwnQAYQMeUUWAlxHz8nNbu8y1bSnJHA9Zk0eL2z9U/s320/fancyladies.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5570373592259630418" /><br /></a><span style="font-style:italic;">Taco Bellas</span><br /> <br /><br />My friend Carrie (in the middle, and you MUST read her <a href="http://carriedawaywithvintagegourmet.blogspot.com/">blog</a>) had this genius idea to celebrate her birthday at Taco Bell, with a Black Tie dress code. How fabulous is that? Champagne and chalupas are super bueno, and it was so much fun! <br /><br />My second resolution of the year is to wear more hats, and I've gotten to do that, too:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7FtmdgSVBqAiNbYAJAUfxk_EaB5YYYlLiQYiv_vQVBbzKgez2qnjo9G0ckrNU66LafVxz-2v0sSMnDe6WOITTCRa54P8mGinGVOUrY7fFSO91BUHpiRQK8DGWt9aT04e-nNpaTOcfG4s9/s1600/dames.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7FtmdgSVBqAiNbYAJAUfxk_EaB5YYYlLiQYiv_vQVBbzKgez2qnjo9G0ckrNU66LafVxz-2v0sSMnDe6WOITTCRa54P8mGinGVOUrY7fFSO91BUHpiRQK8DGWt9aT04e-nNpaTOcfG4s9/s320/dames.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5570394451445021538" /></a><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">The Dames!</span><br /><br />My friend Dorinda started a fun new "club" called Les Dames Du Gateau. It's a West Coast chapter/homage to <a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2006/03/08/dining/08dame.html?pagewanted=all">The Dames du Boeuf</a>, a fabulous New York gathering of ladies who dine in old school restaurants. My friend Pearl is a member of that group, and I've always thought it was a wonderful idea -- so when Doe invited me to join the Bay Area bunch, I was thrilled. I have to say, it's my most favorite thing that has happened to me in 2011 -- an excuse to get dressed up and dine in fancy old restaurants with such wonderful company and sparkling conversation? YES, PLEASE! We've gone twice now and each time I've felt as if I've been walking on air. I didn't wear a hat last time, but still, look how marvelous:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwnPa8YKP_qxx_tm6yp2YbaiaGbMiVeoDjAUk2A7WrCpg9bP147RJOuWE2-ZoYXwxbF9yZJjXVqXg_TaPGJ0CFDWZkcjgImsfEEYN0P7mobVsjIFaQ1oCTtk0OUhotILHdkzy9QP3XBdAu/s1600/Magnin%2527s.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwnPa8YKP_qxx_tm6yp2YbaiaGbMiVeoDjAUk2A7WrCpg9bP147RJOuWE2-ZoYXwxbF9yZJjXVqXg_TaPGJ0CFDWZkcjgImsfEEYN0P7mobVsjIFaQ1oCTtk0OUhotILHdkzy9QP3XBdAu/s320/Magnin%2527s.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5570397063516255090" /></a><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">Ladies in the swanky I. Magnin's Ladies Lounge, THEE place to meet. Photo courtesy of Doe.</span><br /><br />So basically, my New Year's Resolution is to be more like Sheila E and live the glamorous life. And to win a million dollars and lose like 50 pounds and get invited to Kate and William's wedding, but whatevs. All in good time.<br /><br />And, yet again, to get back on this blogging train. It's kind of like yoga. I sort of dread it because it's kind of hard and awkward but I love it while I'm doing it and then I feel even better after I'm done -- it's just the motivation to hunker down. (Hunker downward dog? Okay, that was really bad. I couldn't resist.) But I've got some tricks up my sleeve and Accomplishments Accomplished, so stay tuned.<br /><br />Enough with the blathering -- onward and upward, whatever that means. Wheee!<br /><br />xoxoSparkleneelyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16227120176940674448noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8979421620708398229.post-586468889894855412010-09-22T15:44:00.000-07:002010-09-22T16:12:07.254-07:00A BIG THANK YOU FOR A HUGE ACCOMPLISHMENT!!!Hey ya'll, Remember my last post? About contests? Well, today I just want to write a quick post and say thank you for helping my friend Eartha with the Biggest Accomplishment EVER: THEY WON!!!!!!!!!!!<br /><br />Eartha and Jack got the most votes in the Kozy Shack contest, and now The Pudding Patrol is coming to their house, which is a prize in ITSELF. And then they get to choose an envelope and it could have ONE MILLION DOLLARS IN IT -- which means that Nashville will get an animal shelter! (See what good people they are? If I won a million dollars, I'd buy shoes and old furniture and name brand hairspray instead of the cheap stuff and junk like that.)<br /><br />I am so excited for my friends, and so excited that I happen to be in their hometown tonight and get to celebrate with them! So wherever you are, raise a glass, eat some pudding, and pat yourselves on the backs and know that I am so thankful to all of you for helping my friends' dream come true. YAY!!!<br /><br />xoxoxo<br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/sparkleneely/5015560695/" title="40701_103534979704937_100001453064643_27905_3902121_n by sparkleneely, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4124/5015560695_e94c5265e2.jpg" width="464" height="500" alt="40701_103534979704937_100001453064643_27905_3902121_n" /></a>Sparkleneelyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16227120176940674448noreply@blogger.com6