Grand Tout L'Ensemble*
How is it that I've gotten several Flickr requests from people I don't know, and they are inevitably from single middle-aged men with "exotic" names who are always wearing party shirts and whose interests include anything and everything NSFW? Of all the people on Flickr, how did they find me? I don't have any public-access photos, and there's nothing in my profile that should suggest my albums contain anything sexy. Well, not counting my boyfriend in biking shorts, but from what I can tell, that's the only thing they're NOT into.
*****
Whoever said Xanadu was a "Xanadon't" got it all wrong. As soon as the mural painting came to life in a flurry of legwarmered godesses, the movie shot onto my list of Top Favorites of All Time. Frankly, the rollerskating and the Gene Kelly would have been enough, but Gene Kelly on rollerskates? Dressed like a forties' gangster? And described as "glitzy" by Olivia Fig-Newton-John-John-Newton-Olivier? As I told Simon last night, the only thing that could have been better was if everyone got a kitten at the end. I don't think I'll send it back to Netflix until I've purchased my own copy. (Note to all the people who knew about this movie and didn't share it with me for twenty-six years: I'll forgive you if you'll watch it with me one more time.)
*****
Amanda STILL has not had her baby, the much-awaited Kicky Boots. I've been giving Simon multi-daily updates about the status of Amanda's various girly parts, and even though he tries to act nonchalant, at this point I think he's genuinely invested in this kid making her appearance, if only so he doesn't have to hear the words "mucus plug" or "bloody show" ever again. This morning he called me Sleepy Boots, and later he threw his arms around me and declared himself Huggy Boots. Stan is Stinky Boots and Olivia Newton-John is Thigh-High Roller Boots, and please let this baby be born soon so they can give her a name already and we can move on with our lives.
*****
When we stay over at my house, my cat spends the evening walking back and forth across all horizontal (and many vertical--ouch!) surfaces of our bodies. When we try to get a picture of her on our laps, however, she won't come withing grabbing reach and she certainly won't turn her sweet face to the lens. Here is one of a series taken on Monday, a few hours before watching Supernanny.
*****
We are going to Salt Lake this weekend, partly because it's time, partly because I want to introduce Simon to some of my extended family. We've arranged it so he doesn't have to encounter my born-again-Mormon grandfather on a Sunday, at the height of his holiness, but I don't think that will stop him (Grandpa) from soapboxing about how noserings are gateway drugs into a life of murder and terrorism. We'll also be having a taco bar/BBQ with my ex- and pseudo-Mormon side of the family, and yea, there will be margaritas and yea, my genius baby brother will be preparing elote (barbecued corn with melted cheese and chile powder), which will make this the first time he has cooked something other than macaroni and cheese, and, mind you, he uses the microwave for that. My dad emailed me yesterday to say that it was 103 degrees in Salt Lake earlier this week and to bring shorts. I think I will also bring a cabana boy, who will follow me around with a drink tray and a little spraybottle of water for spritzing when I need some freshening up. I'm looking forward to sitting on the porch swing with my family and making up new names for the cats.
*This is what my ballet teacher would say when she wanted the class to perform a step "everybody, all together." When I was signing up for my first French class in college, under "Prior French Experience" on the getting-to-know-you form, I wrote, "Six years of ballet." Thank heavens they still made me take French 101. Sometimes the know-it-all doesn't actually know it all, and even now I don't know if that's correct spelling or grammar.
Mucus plug. Thanks a lot. I'd just about gotten that out of my mind.
This "elote" you speak of sounds delicious. Any particular type of cheese, or is it a case of stringier/more processed the better?
One of the many benefits of making flickr only accessible to my friends and family is that I don't get comments like "HAWT" on my enormously pregnant belly pictures by men named Fetish4U.
Ew.
(Love your wee pink socks)
I looked at the pic too quick and thought those were simon's socks.
Sometimes Simon wears them. Shhh...don't tell.
Aww...Huggy Boots. I've been chuckling about that one for the past five minutes. I don't really like giving hugs, but I might just have to start so I can run around declaring myself Huggy Boots! And then they will lock me away for years and years.
Xanadu - its a deal!
My husband loves Xanadu! I don't get it.
I too would like my own cabana boy!
let your grandpa know that the two of you shack up. i mean seriously, before marriage? THAT is unheard of and sinful(ly delightful!)
At least we have separate apartments. I was shacked up with the other guy for three years.
>>Cath
Depending on which recipe you google up, the cheese is whatever. I'm following the recipe (linked to my nametag below) which calls for finely grated (or shredded) parmesan cheese.
Also, I substituted sour cream in place of mayo.
Leah, I would totally watch Xanadu with you! In fact, if you leave now, you can make it to Chicgo just in time for the midnight show here: www.musicboxtheatre.com
I asked Will and he made fun of me.