Month: April 2010

  • Gone fishing

    While I was on my tour of the United States, P and Caroline headed to the ranch to do a little fishing.

    I think they had a pretty good time.

    We won’t talk about how long it took me to get all the tangles out of her hair when I got home.

    Because what’s important is the size of that bass.

    And the size of those smiles.

    *Caroline’s shirt says “A bad day huntin’ with Dad beats a good day shoppin’ with Mom”. Personally, I think that’s debatable.

  • It’s a long story

    Yesterday I spent most of the day trying to adapt to being back in the real world. A world full of dirty laundry, floors that needed to be swept, bathrooms that needed to be cleaned and groceries that didn’t magically appear in my kitchen cabinets. To make matters worse, when I finally emerged from a huge pile of laundry and made it to the grocery store, I went to pay for my groceries only to discover that I’d left my wallet at home. Long story short, reality made me her circus monkey.

    But enough about my grocery store woes. At least until tomorrow when I may feel the need to talk about them ad nauseam.

    On Friday morning I woke up in New York. Sophie and I had a few hours to walk around the city before we had to head to the airport. So, naturally, we ate some breakfast and then treated ourselves to cupcakes to sustain us as we walked the streets of Manhattan. I took a couple of pictures that seemed to exemplify all that is good and right about the city.

    Dear H&M, I think I’ll miss you most of all. My only regret is that we didn’t have more time together. You have my heart.

    But I had a plane to catch.

    Sophie gently pulled me out of H&M and we grabbed a cab to take us to La Guardia. I felt fairly certain there was a 42% chance that I was going to die in that cab and deeply regretted that my last moments would be filled with the smell of old garlic and body odor.

    Thankfully, we arrived safely at the airport and I boarded a flight to Dallas because one of my dearest friends and college roommate was getting married. Gulley and I had originally planned to drive to Dallas together, but when the trip to New York came up we decided that I’d just fly in to Dallas and then we could ride back to San Antonio together at the end of the weekend. I don’t know why I feel the need to include all these travel details because they really have nothing to do with anything but I can’t stop myself from typing all the words and already erased an entire paragraph where I detailed what I bought at the gift shop at La Guardia. (Gardetto Honey Mustard Snack Mix, US Weekly, and People StyleWatch!) I have a compulsive need to overshare meaningless details.

    But I will tell you about the bride because it’s a lovely story.

    Jen, Gulley and I lived together for two years in college. Gulley didn’t actually pay rent one of those years because her true place of residence was the dorm, but we felt it was our duty to spare her from having to go home to the dorm every night so she just became our unofficial roommate. Jen was everything Gulley and I weren’t. She was known to actually study for exams and even miss football games to work on projects. She managed to make it through college without knowing all the characters on Saved By The Bell or having a VIP card to any of the bars in College Station.

    After graduation, we all remained close friends. Jen spent the next several years pursuing her career ambitions and I spent that time doling out questionable financial advice to unsuspecting clients until P and I got married in August 1997. Then I switched careers and doled out questionable pharmaceutical advice to unsuspecting doctors.

    Eventually all of our college friends settled down, got married and started having babies. Jen remained single. She’d call and tell us about an occasional date, but the right one never seemed to come along. But instead of pouting over her singleness and distancing herself from her married friends, Jen always showed up. She came and rocked our babies and invested in our lives. She took mission trips to Africa, taught Bible study at her church, and began doing inner city ministry work.

    About two years ago, she brought a guy named Scott to spend the weekend at AJ’s ranch. They’d been dating for a few months and things seemed pretty serious. There was talk of marriage.

    But they broke up. He didn’t know if he was ready to make a commitment and things just fell apart. She was heartbroken, but trusted that God must have something else for her life.

    Eighteen months later, on January 10, I received a text message from Jen that read “Scott and I just got engaged!” And I texted back, “Did I miss something? I didn’t even know y’all were dating again.” (Because, listen, if anyone is going to miss some kind of major detail, it’s me.)

    I hadn’t missed anything.

    Scott and Jen had spent the last eighteen months apart, but he never quit thinking about her. Ultimately, he decided he didn’t want to spend his life without Jen. So he went to her mama and asked for permission to marry Jen. He bought an engagement ring. And then a few days later, he showed up and told Jen he needed to talk to her. He said that he knew she was the girl for him, placed the ring on the dashboard of the car and said he was ready to put it on her finger the moment she was ready.

    And in typical Jen fashion, she began screaming, “I’M READY!! I’M READY!!”

    IT’S LIKE A SCENE RIGHT OUT OF A MOVIE.

    So he got down on one knee, placed the ring on her finger and they got married this past Sunday at 2:00. It was a day filled with love and close friends and family. It was a day that we’d all been waiting and hoping for.

    Since Jen’s dad passed away when we were in college, she walked down the aisle alone. As she got to the halfway point, Scott left the front of the church, went to meet her and walked her the rest of the way. And everyone broke into applause. It was one of my favorite wedding moments ever.

    This is Gulley, Jen, Jamie and me after the rehearsal.

    And here’s the bride on her big day.

    It’s hard to tell from the huge smile, but I think she’s pretty happy.

  • It’s Monday and I’m exhausted

    Listen. I just drove in from Dallas about thirty minutes ago.

    I haven’t been home since 7:00 a.m. last Wednesday.

    And now I’m going to go unpack and try not to think about all the laundry that awaits.

    On the upside, I’ve never been more glad to see my people

    And look! A giveaway. Go enter!

    To find out how you could win fame and fortune or at least a prize pack valued at over $175 courtesy of the nice people at GoodNites, click here for the details.

    I’ll be back with a full report of my travels throughout the continental United States tomorrow.

  • Fashion Friday: Edition I’m in New York

    Behold the rat.

    And his friend, the roach.

    I’m not sure if the roach is a new addition or if the guy who was supposed to bring the roach didn’t make it on Wednesday. Maybe he was tired of lugging that giant roach around so he called in sick and said, “Dude, if you want this roach then you can come get it yourself.” Or maybe too many people thought they were protesting The Tale of Despereaux and they decided it might clarify things to add a roach.

    Anyway, I felt that y’all needed to see a photo of the rat to fully appreciate it so I took that picture as I walked out of the hotel this morning. And then I spent the next several minutes not looking at all like a tourist as Sophie and I wandered the streets of New York while I held my phone up and took eight hundred pictures that look like some version of this:

    I feel that they really capture the essence of the city and my sub-par photography skills. Also, if you happen to know the man in the pink shirt crossing the street, please let him know that he was just in the wrong place at the wrong time.

    Sophie and I walked until we found the nearest Starbucks and then headed to go get pedicures. As we walked down Madison Avenue I was kind of feeling a little bit of pride at how fearlessly I was crossing all the side streets. I was just boldly stepping off the curb like a real New Yorker. And then, in what is a recurring theme in my life, I began to overthink the whole process and at the next intersection I walked halfway out into the street, chickened out when I saw a cab coming and totally headed back to the corner from whence I came. I’m sure no one who witnessed that scene suspected that I was just in town for a few days.

    Anyway, Sophie and I are here because Ree had to be in the city for a few days and invited us to tag along so we could all pretend we were like the Real Housewives of New York. But without all the catfights and excessive amounts of wine. Although we do throw around quotes from the show like “I miss the sophistication of the city” and “I’m coming from a place of yes” because they never cease to amuse us.

    Oh, and Ree also was scheduled to tape a segment for a television show.

    Maybe you’ve heard of it.

    And can we talk about how much I love that chart right under The View sign that demonstrates what to do when you cough? Television is very glamorous.

    So we arrived at the ABC studio where they film the show and they took us back to a long hallway lined with various dressing rooms. I was sitting on the couch next to Sophie while Ree was off somewhere getting her hair and makeup touched up when I heard someone yell down the hall, “I want you to come meet Benjamin Bratt”.

    Well, you better believe I shot off that sofa like someone had just fired me out of a cannon and tried to nonchalantly stand in the doorway holding my phone like I was texting when I was really trying to take a picture. My plan was working beautifully until the producer informed me that they don’t allow pictures backstage. They were coming from a place of no with the pictures.

    However, I did take this picture of a picture hanging on the wall.

    I’m just so glad I’ll have that photo to remember the whole experience.

    And I have to report that Benjamin Bratt is very handsome and very tall. I have this thing about knowing how tall actors are because Gulley and I went to the Regis and Kelly Show about eight years ago and I was astounded at how miniature everyone was in real life. I could fit Kelly Ripa in my pocket and still have room for a tube of lipgloss and maybe a pack of gum. Except I don’t put things in my pockets because it ruins the line of your clothes. Consider that your Fashion Friday tip of the week.

    (On a totally different fashion related note, everyone in this city is wearing leggings and flats. It’s a flat epidemic. Flats everywhere. And the occasional gladiator-type sandal.)

    The other guest was Andre Leon Talley from Vogue magazine. And I don’t want to say that The View is copying me, but they totally did an entire segment called Fashion Friday. Coincidence? Doubtful.

    After a few more minutes in the dressing room the producers came and led us all downstairs. Ree walked out on stage to film her segment while we watched in the green room. And then it was all over. It will air today at whatever time your ABC channel shows The View. If you’re in San Antonio and have Dish Network, I can tell you it will be on channel 12 at 10:00 a.m. If you live anywhere else or have another cable provider, I cannot help you at all.

    Then last night we went to Nobu and ate sushi and some black cod with miso that may have altered my life permanently. And I ate a dessert called Milk Chocolate Yuzu Cake that looked more like a piece of art than something edible but that didn’t stop me from eating the entire thing and contemplate licking my plate to make sure I didn’t miss anything. The whole meal will go down as one of the best meals I’ve ever had. EVER.

    But more than anything it’s just been a sweet time with sweet friends who really aren’t anything like the Real Housewives of New York. Except that we all believe in coming from a place of yes.

    And we will miss the sophistication of the city.

    Y’all have a great Friday.

  • Start spreading the news, I left yesterday

    Well, I’m in New York.

    I know.

    I didn’t mention it earlier because I have this whole pessimistic thing going on where I don’t really believe something is going to happen until it actually happens. (I’m working on that. I really am.) But yesterday morning I woke up at the crack of awful, my dad picked me up, drove me to the airport, and I boarded a plane for New York City. (Please say “New York City” like they used to say it on those Pace picante commercials because that’s how it’s playing in my head.)

    Actually I boarded a plane for Dallas first. Once I landed in Dallas I caught the airport tram to haul myself and my extremely overpacked carry-on bag to Gate A39. All was well and fine until they announced that my flight to JFK was now departing from Gate A14. You wouldn’t think that A39 would be that far from A14, but you would be wrong. Especially considering the fact that I was carrying a sound machine in my purse because I am a high maintenance traveler and don’t think I wouldn’t haul my body pillow through the airport if I could get away with it. I enjoy the comforts of home. And the sound of soft rain falling when I sleep.

    Eventually American Airlines finally committed to a gate and I got in line to board the plane. I always start to get a little nervous when I board the plane because WHAT IF THERE IS NO ROOM FOR MY CARRY-ON BAG? And what if I hold up the entire boarding process of the plane while I try to figure it out? Fortunately there was an entire open luggage compartment and I mustered all my strength and possibly threw out my back trying to lift my bag. However, once I got it up there it appeared that it would only fit horizontally. So I left it that way. But then I realized the guy behind me was giving me the dirtiest look you can imagine because my horizontal bag didn’t leave any room for his bag. It was an unintentional error on my part and I started to apologize, but before I could even get the words out of my mouth he shoved my bag to the side, turned it horizontally and stored his bag next to mine. All while giving me the stinkeye.

    Looking at him, I quietly said, “Sorry, I didn’t think it would fit that way.” But what I wanted to say was “Dude, settle down. It’s just luggage.” I don’t think he saw it that way.

    I spent a large part of the flight reading various periodicals. I wish I could say that if you have any questions about the budget deficit or how the federal reserve rates are influencing the economy that I know the answer. The truth is that if you want to know about Kate Gosselin’s attitude on Dancing With The Stars or how Sandra Bullock is dealing with all her marital woes, then I am your girl. When it comes to current celebrity trivia I am en fuego.

    After I arrived in New York, I caught (hailed?) a cab driven by a fellow named Harjab. From what I could tell Harjab appeared to be having some sort of spat with someone and spent most of the thirty minute cab ride yelling into his cell phone and then hanging up. Then he’d answer the phone again, yell some more, and hang up. All while driving across the Queensboro Bridge and nearly steering us right into a lane already occupied by a city bus. But other than my life span being shortened by about ten years from sheer terror, Harjab eventually got me to the hotel.

    I checked into my room and immediately took a shower because two planes plus New York cab plus eighty degrees equals ick. Refreshed and relaxed, I stretched out on the bed and came to two conclusions about why I could never live in New York.

    1. I have a tendency to get carsick. If I had to spend even a few minutes a week being driven around in stop and go traffic while riding in the backseat of a hot car, I’d never survive. On the plus side, it might be an effective diet plan.

    2. While I was laying on the bed, I began to hear loud drumbeats right outside the window. I thought there was some kind of street musical going on or something and I was all OH NEW YORK! You amuse me with your street music! But then I looked outside and saw several men yelling through megaphones, six drummers drumming, ten lords a leaping and the biggest fake rat I’ve ever seen. (Not that I’ve seen that many fake rats in my day, but this one was like ten feet tall and standing on two legs.) It turned out to be some sort of construction workers strike or something like that even though the rat confused me for a minute and I thought maybe they were protesting The Tale of Despereaux. All I know is I’d hate to be the guy in charge of bringing the rat every morning.

    But then last night I ate some of the most delicious pasta I’ve ever had in my life, walked by St. Patrick’s Cathedral and took in the sights of Madison Avenue, and all was forgiven.

    New York, you’re a little loud but you make up for it with a lot of style.

    And ten foot tall fake rats.

  • You have questions, I make up answers

    I’m sitting here trying to come up with some kind of lead in for this post, but am only drawing a complete blank. So I’ll just say that there have been a few questions that have come up and I thought today would be a good day to answer them. I can’t promise it will be interesting or enlightening because there’s a good chance I have no idea what I’m talking about. But it’s rare that I let that stop me.

    1. Several of you have asked about my new Shark vacuum.

    I bought the Shark Ultralight Multi-Vac from Target. According to the instructions, it can turn into three different types of vacuums. However, I had enough trouble just assembling the dang thing in the first place and I’m not even going to pretend like I’m going to turn it into a hand-vac for small spills. If I have to drag the thing out of the closet, then I’m going whole hog on the vacuuming.

    Before deciding on a new vacuum, I extensively researched various models on the internet for at least five minutes. The Dyson sounded great except paying that much for something that only cleans and can’t be worn on your feet seems like the equivalent of buying a shovel made out of gold. I chose the Shark because it was fairly inexpensive as far as vacuums go and I only have four small-ish rugs in my house.

    I am a fan of The Shark. Not only because it has a cool name, but because it has a clear canister where I can see all the dirt and dust that’s coming from the floor. Maybe I’m in the minority here, but it feels like instant gratification (mixed with a little bit of horror) to see all that dirt and dust while I’m vacuuming.

    (I feel the need to make sure you know that this is not any kind of a paid endorsement or anything. It doesn’t matter to me one way or the other if you buy The Shark. I believe in the freedom to choose our own vacuums.)

    2. Other people have asked about the photo apps I’m using on my iPhone.

    Listen. I have no idea what I’m doing here, but I’m enjoying messing around with the different photo settings and occasionally I’ve even managed to take a decent looking picture. One of the apps I’ve been using is called Camera Bag. Someone recommended it in the comments a few weeks ago and I fell in love. After you take a picture, Camera Bag gives you all kinds of different ways to change it up.

    All of these photos were taken with the Camera Bag app.

    These photos were taken with the Hipstamatic app. It comes with different lens and film options. Honestly, I’m still figuring it out. It can make things look really cool or just absolutely creepy and when I use it to take pictures it’s a little bit like a box of chocolates.

    The truth is that I’m really tired of my little point and shoot camera and want to move up to something a little nicer. I’m not ready to take the plunge yet because I know it will take more than five minutes of research to figure out which one to buy and a lifetime for me to learn how to actually take great pictures with it. So in the meantime I’m just using my iPhone because I always have it with me.

    3. No, P was not the pilot of the helicopter. The pilot just didn’t show up in the pictures thanks to my stellar photography skills.

    4. No, I’m not watching Celebrity Apprentice. Donald Trump gets on my nerves. I’m sure he’s a lovely person, I just don’t want to watch him on T.V. (Says the girl who watched every episode of Growing Up Brady.)

    5. I haven’t started painting my kitchen yet. No one actually asked that, but I like to keep you up to date on everything that’s not happening around here. I’m praying for a rainy day so that Shorty won’t have anything to do except float and tape the cracks in my kitchen.

    And this has nothing to do with anything, but I went to watch American Idol on the DVR last night and the description of the show came up on the screen. It said, “American Idol starring Ellen DeGeneres and some other people”. Is that not the laziest piece of television writing you’ve ever encountered? I believe someone has lost their passion for their job.

    I hope y’all have a lovely day.