My Favorite Pony

Mostly I'm going to let you think whatever you want about my photos but this one (for me) is just too sweet to pass up without a comment.

This little guy is tethered to the curb in downtown PDX. Quietly waiting for his owner to come back.

Stalwart and whimsical- an almost impossible combination in today's world.

It makes me happy every time I go by.

Mom and Doris Day

I first started getting interested in blogs when I discovered Dooce © while living in Utah. Here was a funny quirky woman who lived in the same state I did but instead of being made miserable by it she broke out. 

Beyond being crazy funny what really won me over was the fact that Heather swore in her posts and KNEW that her parents read them (I’m covering my mouth in horrified glee even as writing this). It was beyond scary and thrilling at the same time- like the first time on a roller coaster or smoking dope or stealing something- take your pick.

Could I be that daring? Let’s see.

15 years ago and my mother and I were indulging in our favorite pastime- watching old movies. This time it was Doris Day in Midnight Lace which I highly recommend as being one of the few of hers that is dramatic as opposed to comedic. Doris’ acting aside it is her wardrobe that is memorable- classic, timeless, chic (see below).

I digress. There is a very scary scene in which Doris is in danger. My mother is lying on the family sofa and I am on my dad’s recliner slightly behind her. We’re both leaning forward with tension and without thinking I murmur, “Oh she’s fucked.” Long loooonnnnggg pause (during which I stop breathing) and then a slow swiveling of my mother’s head. I won’t swear to it but I’m almost certain there are tears in her eyes as she whispers, “Oh, Cathy, I am so disappointed to hear you talk like that.”

Which is why, with the exception of the f bomb above, I won’t be able to swear (much) in this blog. Guilt is the greatest motivator out there.

 

Thanksgiving This Year

As last year's Thanksgiving involved tears, drunkeness (not my own so not that interesting), hysteria, lies, and possible hospitalization (again not my own so definitely not as interesting) I will only say that getting up this morning to completely sanitize my bathroom right down to getting 6 months worth of soap scum off the glass shower doors felt downright exhilerating. And the epitome of giving thanks.

With the exception of a Godfather marathon on AMC. Now that's Thanksgiving!

Things I Miss

It’s a sunny Saturday afternoon and I’m rewarding myself with lunch at P.F. Changs after having to deal with a fashion disaster (the whole bootie thing went horribly wrong but that’s for another time). It’s only after I put down my magazine when my food arrives that I look around and realize that something is very wrong.

Almost every other table is filled with women. Two friends and their young children. A group of college girls sans boyfriends. A trio of older women who toast themselves with mojitos. Women laughing and leaning towards each other, confiding, observing, commiserating, gossiping.

I’m alone. More importantly, I am lonely.

I’m happily married living in a fun city with lots to do but I’m without the people who will go to the chick flicks, yoga classes, happy hours and malls with me.

Moving to Portland was a great and necessary thing. I didn’t like living in UT and being unemployed made me like it even less. To finally get a job in a place like Portland was good news all the way around.

Except. Except for the one thing I had that was better there than any of the other places I’ve lived. Girlfriends. Lots of fabulous women of all personalities and interests. I had book club friends, tennis friends, yoga friends, movie friends, and shopping friends. I had 'discuss the same things about our relationships over and over again' friends! And I’m a freaking introvert!

To anyone single who may read this and think I’m a whiner because I’m married I’ll only say that even the best of men cannot (and would not want to) replace good friends. I simply don’t buy that ‘my husband is my best friend’ crap. He may be but do you really want to talk to him about bloating, how you have no eyebrows left but still need to wax every week, your emotional temperature? And does he want to hear it? NO. I won’t go into my beliefs about marital sharing right now but I will say that it is a very wise man who knows that he has his wife’s heart but that she still needs her girls.

So I eat sadly and quickly, pay my check and crack open my fortune cookie. Your judgment is off at this time. Rely on friends. And I really want to cry.

A shout out to some of the best wackiest smartest funniest most caring group of women I’ve ever known: Nicole, MJ, Shuree, Laura, Tina, Jacque, Alisyn, Kristin, Rebecca, Stephanie, Jennifer and Laurie. We have phone, email and FB but it is simply not the same.

Aspire: Audrey Hepburn

Audrey Hepburn in all her timeless perfection.

from Special Photographer by Leo Fuchs

Let's get it out there now- I idolize her. She is the epitome of class and style and there will likely be more photos of her to come because I have never seen one that I did not think was breathtaking So get over it because you know I'm right. 

Marriage

Going to bed angry at your partner is not good but annoyed is OK.

Waiting

Note to Iman: putting a stop punch emphasis on every other word does not make you sound authoritative it makes you sound stilted and weird. And not in that 'I was just discovered in Somalia and have only been in the U.S. for 20 minutes' way which you should have outgrown 30 years ago but in a way much more artificial- fierce but not in a good way. You're judging clothes not getting ready to invade Poland- so stop it! If Teutonic hottie Heidi Klum can relax and laugh so can you.

Which is the crux of the matter. Fashion Show is no more than methadone to a Project Runway junkie. A weak substitute even though I adore Isaac Mizrahi (which is why I simply won't do a comparison between him and Tim Gunn. Despite their Liz Claiborne/work issues, I love them both!).

Amend that. I ADORE Tim Gunn. If I could have one day with him to go through my wardrobe, fly to NYC, go shopping, have a cocktail and nice supper it would be one of the happiest days of my life. And I would look fabulous! I'm also pretty sure my husband has a man crush on him.

Unfortunately, it will be six months before the next Runway season which means I'm pinning my hopes on Top Chef AllStars as my next competition reality show fix. Completely different industry but food is also a passion and it's one of those TV things DH ("dear husband" as he shall be referred to from now on unless I'm mad at him when I write) and I can share which is always good. Still, I miss Tim and Heidi.

To close with some completely unwarranted pridefulness there is also the fact that the last 3 PR winners were from Portland (Vancouver is right across the bridge). As if I had anything to do with it but I will get all uppity about it.

The B Word

What is up with "booties"? Why the infantilizing of a grown woman’s shoe? Are we meant to be kept as children despite our footwear? Surely someone in either the marketing or design department could have come up with something sexier or for god’s sake at least a bit more grown-up. Do I really want to go into Nordstrom’s shoe department and ask for a bootie? NO NO NO.

p.s. I gave up wearing booties when I got my first pair of Mary Janes.

But what about this sassiness from Nine West?



Or this updated classic from Talbot’s? That I could wear with almost every single pant and skirt in my wardrobe. Am I really going to make an entire genre of shoe suffer because some idiot (99% certain it’s a man) gave them a stupid name? Damnit!!!!!

Crisis averted. The Talbot's Ara (above) is known as a ghillie not that other word. My local Talbot's didn't have a pair so I am on the phone like a junkie in search of a high- which in a way I am. And when some lovely lady in NJ does indeed confirm that they have the shoe (in cognac- the best neutral out there) am I as happy as if I'd just won the Pulitzer? HELL YEAH!!!

The moral of this story is that even when I am violently opposed to something I think it is important to try and get along. Oh, and support the economy.

Standard Time

12 hours in bed thanks to the time change- the only one of which I approve.

The spring nonsense must be stopped. 

Shame

So far my ability to put words of any worth out there is appalling. I blame it on all the bad TV that is shoved down my throat every minute I'm not at work. It's not my fault. If you're going to re-run Legally Blonde, Miss Congeniality, Casino, Two Weeks Notice and their ilk I am going to have to watch. Don't even get me started on the Real Housewives and reality TV! The cable execs should be ashamed of themselves. If not for them I would be a real published author by now, fer sure.

Having said that, I have no shame- here is a picture of something sparkly and pretty to distract you from my lack of substance.

Isn't it fabulous?! I got it for my birthday. Someone far more artistic than me goes to estate sales, buys old jewelry, and turns it into charming fun bracelets. It's hard to see but there is even a little butterfly on the middle flower. Almost too pretty to wear!