Eat, Pray, Love Trailer!

Oh I am SO excited for Eat, Pray, Love! Its release date is "Summer 2010". Finally!

I loved the book. I may have to re-read it, as it's been years.

Anyone else excited to see this movie?

Henry's Got A Cone

Henry managed to get a minor ear infection this past weekend. What can I say - he's a busy boy. Between the worms, ear infection, and carpet peeing, I don't know how he finds time to play. In an effort to get him to stop batting at and scratching his ear, Henry was ordered by his vet to wear a cone.

I won't say much more, but I will leave you with this video of him playing with his favorite ball via my brother's phone's camera.



I am officially the worst mommy in the whole world. Poor Big Bubba.

By the way, isn't he huge?! He's growing like a weed. He weighed in at 8.8 pounds!

Wedding Planning: Now You See It, Now You Don't.

I have unsubscribed from most wedding blogs, but a few have slipped through the cracks. It was during a late night session of mindless internet perusing when I happened upon a wedding blog, and committed a big sin. The sin of coveting thy neighbor's wedding (when my wedding was said and done a long time ago).

The pictures did a better job of telling the day's story. The details that got flubbed up on our big day were executed flawlessly. It looked like a cleaner, more put together version of our big day. Hell, it was even thrown at our venue!

However, my feelings ran a little deeper than jealousy over some stranger's wedding pictures. This wedding reminded me of our wedding, and I got a little sad that it was all over.

In the beginning, I was elated when the big event had passed. I think I did a cartwheel for every day that I didn't have to organize details, talk about flowers, or worry about guest lists.

Now I am much more removed from it all. I have discovered there is still a little wedding troll living inside of me that lurks around corners stealing glances of gorgeous center pieces, and sighing over pretty wedding gowns. I guess when I saw those flawless pictures, I had a moment of clarity, and realized that I haven't allowed myself to connect with the fact that...

I miss planning my wedding!

It is something that I never thought would happen. And I think I have been in denial about it.

I will probably never plan an event of such magnitude and importance again, and weddings will always evoke happy feelings for me; the days of writing posts for Weddingbee, dreams for the day, the overall giddiness, and the wonder of what this marriage thing would be like.

Man, I miss those days.

I do feel like I have moved on with my life, but I will always have a special place in my heart for the memories of planning our wedding.

Do you ever miss wedding planning? Or is it completely out of your system? Give it some time, you might surprise yourself!

Dog Owners Gone Wild

For those of my readers that are not dog owners, but are afraid/annoyed/infuriated/etc. at dogs and their wonky owners, I feel your pain. I mean, I'm a dog owner, but I definitely don't love every dog. Dog owners aren't all best friends. In fact, they often have little in common with one another other than frequenting the local pet supply store.

Case in point.

I have this neighbor, let's call her Lady Porcupine. She sort of looks like a porcupine, wears funny glasses, and has quite the prickly personality.

Lady Porcupine is probably in her sixties, is an active member of our homeowners' association, and lives alone. She has two of the most insane, yappy, out of control dogs I have ever seen in my life. They are little dogs (probably both under eight pounds), but they seriously scare me. I am talking snarling, showing teeth, high pitched barking, the works.

She frequently walks Yappy #1 and Yappy #2 on the sidewalk in front of our condo, and without fail, every evening, her dogs throw down on an innocent passerby. Poor pedestrians. They're just out for a peaceful stroll, and they nearly get their limbs bitten off by the devil dogs. And you want to know what her response is?

"Oh...now stop that! Oh, you stop that. Why are you being so loud? Stop that. Why are you barking? Quiet down, please."

Ok, Lady Porcupine, first of all, don't act surprised at your dogs' bad behavior. They bark every time they encounter a living thing. Secondly, we need to have a little talk. In addition to Yappy #1 and Yappy #2 not listening to you, you don't pick up after your dogs. Ever.

You are making all of us dog owners look bad.

You are the reason that every time I walk my dog I make it into a big production. I make sure everyone in the vicinity sees me take a plastic bag out of my pocket, and I spend extra time visibly scooping up poop. I am getting tired of putting on my one-woman poop show.

But I know that it's not just you, Lady Porcupine. Yappy #1 and Yappy #2 could not have possibly produced all of the crap I see as I walk my dog. Is there a secret club or a Yahoo Group devoted to people that don't clean up after their dogs?

It's so irritating. All of the responsible dog owners in our neighborhood get lumped in with the lazy ones.

This upsets me every time I have to walk by hostile lawn signs with pictures of Elmer Fudd on them that say "Pick up after your dog. It's the law!"

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Yeah, so apparently, the people down the block from us have too much time on their hands, and like to craft together lawn signs with cartoons on them. But, maybe they haven't completely lost it. Maybe they are just sick of having to pick up other people's dog poop off their lawn?

Or maybe I have lost it because I am writing a blog post about this. Either way, this is the dog situation in my neighborhood.

Anyone else fed up with misbehaving dog owners?

Spring is in the Air...

This week's gorgeous flowers from the Farmer's Market.

We had sunshine and blue skies this weekend. It has re-invigorated my spirits, and I am hopeful for a beautiful and refreshing spring season.

I am wrapping gifts and watching Fried Green Tomatoes.

I hope you are enjoying a lazy Sunday.

A New Look

I chopped my hair last week!

I am no longer the wicked Asian witch of the West, but rather

...drumroll please...

Julia Roberts' Asian twin from Pretty Woman!!

(Please forgive the Blackberry-quality picture. We were in a dark club. Can you even see my hair or am I ruining the purpose of this post? Ugh.)

Remember the opening scene when Vivienne (Julia Roberts) is wearing the blonde wig with bangs and she asks Kit if she looks like Carol Channing? Well, I was watching Pretty Woman for the 1,000th time post-haircut and realized that I have a version of the Vivienne/ Carol Channing hair.

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Oh man, what did I do?

I am generally happy with the new 'do. More importantly, it takes me 15 minutes less to dry it. Oh, and remind me to tell you a story next week about the shampoo guy at my salon. Funny stuff.

Have a great weekend, my lovely readers! Enjoy yourselves.

The Squeegee

This post came to me while I was in the shower. This actually makes sense if you read on.

L goes to work earlier than me. He is up and ready to go before I have half-opened one swollen eye. We have a shower with glass doors that leaves water marks unless you squeegee it. Because I am the last person to shower, I have the job of squeegeeing. Literally every day, I stand in the shower and see the outline of my husband's face and hear his voice all Wizard of Oz style telling me, "Squeegee the shower, Carly."

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I am on auto-pilot most mornings, so I usually do it without thinking. But sometimes, I get lazy and actually have an internal debate with myself whether to squeegee or not. Once or twice, I have wiped the door with my towel in order to avoid doing it. I liken it to when I was five years old and used to run my toothbrush under the running water to "trick" my parents into believing I brushed my teeth.

One time the fact that I was crapping out on my squeegee-ing duties came up during a fight. I couldn't believe he actually had PENT UP frustration at me for forgetting to squeegee (a fact he disputes, but come on, it got mentioned!) I, on the other hand, probably wouldn't notice if he painted the bathtub a different color, let alone if he cleaned condensation off a shower door. I am totally the dude in this relationship.

Anyway, we are different people. It takes a delicate balance and fair amount of compromise to make it work. When he married me, he resigned himself to getting a little messy, and I resigned myself to getting a little organized.

I don't think I could marry someone exactly like me or we'd probably spend too much time talking about what needs to get done and not doing any of it. L probably couldn't marry someone too much like him, because they'd burn the house down fighting over who vacuums the carpet better and why.

And that's the story of me and The Squeegee.

Experiences in the World of Gynecology

This post is not related to my health issues, but rather a little journey through my womanly health care experiences. Yesterday I had my 4-month post op appointment, and it made me realize how many odd occurrences I have had in doctors' offices. As women, we have to go through so much more "down there" than men. AND we have to carry and birth babies? This seems rather unfair. Where do I send my complaint letter?

Anyway, I think I could be a contender for the Most Awkward Gynecological Experiences Award. I don't pride myself on being in the running for this type of honor.

Allow me to explain.

Years ago, I had scheduled a check-up with my regular doctor. I found out when I arrived at the office that "a new doctor" would be checking me, because my regular doctor was on maternity leave. To me, meeting a new doctor is always a bit nerve-wracking. But it was especially nerve-wracking when I was told I needed a pap smear, and the new doctor asked the receptionist to be her stand-in physician's assistant. Then the makeshift assistant ran around giggling while my feet were up in the stirrups. Was she giggling at my lady parts or because she was a receptionist and should have been answering the phones and not looking at my hoo ha? Either way, not professional.

I have since switched doctors.

I eventually found a doctor that I really trusted. She was part of a teaching hospital. I have nothing against teaching hospitals, but it can be slightly uncomfortable to tell your doctor about the stuff going on with your vagina while a medical student/intern/whatever, who you've never met in your life, looks on. By "looks on" I mean stares into your vagina with your doctor, and then they have a nice little conversation about it. Sweet. I'm so glad I could be of service to everyone.

Despite the presence of random students meandering in and out of exam rooms, I have stuck with this doctor because I like her. She referred me out to a few specialists during my health scare. These specialists have further sealed my nomination for the Most Awkward Gynecological Experiences Award.

First I went to a radiologist who decided I would be the lucky one who would get a "new" method of testing/procedure performed on me. Literally, the FIRST patient. Oh joy! As I chilled in the stirrups, I tried to separate myself from the fact that FOUR people were in the room (doctor, nurse, and two randoms) standing behind the brightest spotlight in history while I had this new procedure done. One of the randoms was so nervous and embarrassed that he kept running into things, and dropping his papers/pens/whatever on the ground. I felt sorry for him. Wait, wasn't I the one who should be embarrassed?

But this last one really takes the cake.

Yesterday, I saw my surgical doctor (who I love), and he gave me a quick pap smear. I wasn't phased by the fact that he had some random person in the room. I was actually just relieved that, for once, the random was FEMALE. Then he directed me to the radiologist whom would perform my ultrasound.

I got hustled into the ultrasound room where this miniature woman with glasses jerked to and fro with her magical ultrasound wand. She must have been in a real big hurry, because she basically de-virginized me. Wait, I'm not a virgin. Well, it felt like I was being de-virginized all over again. Yeah, I know. Terrible. I have had these types of ultrasounds before, and they don't feel like that. Then she told me to get dressed. Before I could eek out a response, she was out the door. Okie doke. So, I put my pants on and waited for her return. 5 minutes...10 minutes...15 minutes...ummm, hello, de-virginizing lady, I don't have all day. 20 minutes...I was starting to go cross-eyed because the lights were off and I had only the ultrasound monitor to light my way. 25 MINUTES.

At that point, I poked my head out the door. No sign of her. No sign of life. Where is everyone? I fumbled out into the hallway, and made my way to the reception desk. I asked the receptionist, "I'm trying to find my radiologist. Have you seen her?" The receptionist's response, "Oh, she's at lunch. Do you need something?"

Uh, do I NEED something?!? You must be crazy, b*tch.

I cooled myself down quickly, and resisted my growing need to strangle her or anyone in the nearby vicinity, and let her know that I was left in the exam room alone for half an hour while the radiologist disappeared without a word.

She apologized profusely, and tried to make up some story that covered the radiologist's ass. Lies. She just told me she went to lunch. It wasn't the receptionist's fault. I feel for people who have to apologize on behalf of their idiot boss's behaviors. (I have been there.) But still, the whole situation really irked me. Her roughness, her coldness, and then her need to go get a sandwich while I nearly fell asleep in the ultrasound room?

I am hoping that if I ever get pregnant, I somehow get lucky and don't add to my list of awkward experiences. Hey, it could happen, right?

I realize this post is quite revealing, and basically a topic that many consider private. But if you have comments, experiences, or anything to share, feel free to share away.

Cropped

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Damn it. Shorter tops and sweaters are back in style. I have been hiding under shirts that balloon to my mid-thigh for the past year or so. I would have to start working out my strange-looking stomach.

But honestly, I'm not sure how I feel about them. At my age, I probably wouldn't show my belly for any reason. Maybe put a tank top or something underneath? Hmmm...

How do you feel about crop tops being back in style? Better left with Shannen Doherty and the cast of 90210 or would you rock one?

How to Make it in America

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My new HBO obsession is the show How to Make it in America. Have you seen it yet? It's about two twenty-something guys (and their friends) living in New York trying to hustle their way into the fashion industry with dreams of making it big.

I have always been infatuated with New York life. Similar to the way that Entourage (same executive producer, Mark Wahlberg) provides viewers with a little piece of L.A., How to Make it in America gives us a glimpse of the big city life (or what I assume the big city life to be like). It was always a dream of mine to live in New York. I wanted to have a little one bedroom apartment like Carrie Bradshaw, take a job doing something I loved, and meet my girlfriends for 2pm brunch on Sundays after a long night of partying. Never happened. Oh well, I'm over it, I guess.

Being someone in my late 20's, I feel like I am in the midst of trying to figure out my version of the "American Dream". Two years post-graduate school, it is really starting to sink in that this is my life. I don't have the luxury of saying"one day when I grow up". I am living my life, every day, like it or not.

I think most of us have entertained the question of "What if?"

When I read a story about an unemployed writer who scores a book deal, or a start-up that goes viral and moves their office from a back garage to Beverly Hills, a little something sparks inside of me. I think, "I can do that." I can still take that leap of faith, and start that business or write that book or go after whatever I want to go after. It makes my dreams feel so close, yet they are still so far away. It's not always about money, but it is always about the dream. It's about taking that risk.

Educated or not, rich or poor, fat or skinny, short or tall: we are all trying to make it. I'm loving this show thus far. Keepin' my fingers crossed that it lives up to its hype.

Have you seen the show? Do you ever think about taking a big risk to fulfill a dream? Maybe you already have. New episodes are on Sundays at 10pm.