Overdressed

My Kid went to spend the night at my brother's house tonight, and me & Big Daddy went to see "The Village." SAVE YOUR MONEY. This movie was WEAK.

WARNING: I'll try not to give too much of the movie away, but there may be spoilers ahead. Do not continue reading if you don't want to know.

The only thing even remotely spooky about this movie was the music. The parts that were meant to be eerie had everyone in the theater laughing. "Do not be afraid. We have the magic rocks." WTF was that??? WEAK.

The only reason I even went to see this movie is b/c two of my favorite actors are in it. I'll see anything with William Hurt or Adrian Brody. Bryce Dallas Howard did in fact give a fine performance, but I thought she was completely unconvincing as a blind girl. Her eyes moved around way too much.

And come on, the people came from the city originally. What's with the ridiculous speech? "Do not jostle my shirt." "Please, sir, we must make haste." C'mon on. They were less than one generation into this community they'd created, yet they dressed like Amish people and spoke like the fucking Biblical Israelites. WEAK WEAK WEAK.

M. Night, sorry dude. I think you peaked early with "The Sixth Sense." You should just stop making movies now. Seriously. STOP MAKING MOVIES.

We went to a 10 p.m. show and it was completely sold out. We had to wait in this huge fucking line just to get into the theater. Then everyone was bitching & complaining as we left. I predict it will have a big opening weekend, then ticket sales will drop off dramatically as soon as word gets out.

If you don't believe me, go here and read Roger Ebert's review. I wish I had before I paid $7.50 to see the movie. He had this to say about the big secret:

Eventually the secret...is revealed. To call it an anticlimax would be an insult not only to climaxes but to prefixes. It's a crummy secret, about one step up the ladder of narrative originality from It Was All a Dream.

It's so witless, in fact, that when we do discover the secret, we want to rewind the film so we don't know the secret anymore.

And then keep on rewinding, and rewinding, until we're back at the beginning, and can get up from our seats and walk backward out of the theater and go down the up escalator and watch the money spring from the cash register into our pockets.

Posted by Kalisa at 12:17 AM | Permalink | Comments

4 p.m Friday...
It's Peanut Butter Jelly Time!

Posted by Kalisa at 4:08 PM | Permalink | Comments

Via Mac comes this interesting piece of internet news. I'm not sure how much truth there is to it, since I've never even heard of this media outlet.

President George W. Bush is taking powerful anti-depressant drugs to control his erratic behavior, depression and paranoia, Capitol Hill Blue has learned.

The prescription drugs, administered by Col. Richard J. Tubb, the White House physician, can impair the President’s mental faculties and decrease both his physical capabilities and his ability to respond to a crisis, administration aides admit privately.

“It’s a double-edged sword,” says one aide. “We can’t have him flying off the handle at the slightest provocation but we also need a President who is alert mentally.”

Tubb prescribed the anti-depressants after a clearly-upset Bush stormed off stage on July 8, refusing to answer reporters' questions about his relationship with indicted Enron executive Kenneth J. Lay.

“Keep those motherfuckers away from me,” he screamed at an aide backstage. “If you can’t, I’ll find someone who can.”

Bush’s mental stability has become the topic of Washington whispers in recent months. Capitol Hill Blue first reported on June 4 about increasing concern among White House aides over the President’s wide mood swings and obscene outbursts.

Wll that certainly explains a lot. Although I take pretty powerful anti-depressant drugs (I guess...I mean, there must be something in those suckers if they keep me from having suicidal thoughts, right?) and my mental faculties and physical capabilities aren't impaired in the least. Sounds to me more like they've got him on anti-psychotic drugs. Yeah...OK, see. This is making more & more sense the more I consider it.

Posted by Kalisa at 2:54 PM | Permalink | Comments

At any given time, I'm totally into a girl who meets my qualifications for "super cool chick." This is someone who is tough, beautiful and sexy, and general possesses the ability to either dance or kick some ass in high heel shoes. Sometimes it's a character from a movie or TV (Stephanie from "Grease 2," as played by Michelle Pfeiffer, La Femme Nikita on the USA Network); sometimes it's a real live person (like Gwen Stefani). Whitney Houston had it for a minute - around "The Bodyguard" period - but lost it around the time she hooked up with Bobby, got bone skinny and insisted that "crack is whack."

Anyhoo, the whole point of this is...I have a new favorite super cool chick now: the girl from the Black Eyed Peas. I just love love love her. She's just so...cool.

Posted by Kalisa at 1:41 PM | Permalink | Comments

Can you name what movie it's from?

"Anyone who isn't dead or from another plane of existence would do well to cover their ears right about now. "

Posted by Kalisa at 11:23 AM | Permalink | Comments

About a month ago my mom sent me a packet of old photos. Please, laugh with me, not at me...more to come.

Posted by Kalisa at 8:16 PM | Permalink | Comments

me & my brother at the White House Easter Egg Roll, circa 1972 

Posted by Kalisa at 8:13 PM | Permalink | Comments

third grade school pic...what's with those bangs?? 

Posted by Kalisa at 8:11 PM | Permalink | Comments

look...sunbathing topless at the age of 2. 

Posted by Kalisa at 8:11 PM | Permalink | Comments

Heh heh. I am feeling so proud of myself at this moment. I never would've thought in a million years I'd be able to perform such feats. And I couldn't do any of it without your kind and generous assistance!

First Gretchen showed me how to add links to my page. Now...TAAA DAAAA!!!! Corporate Mommy guided me through posting my 100 Things in a new page. The Before I Die list? Did that all on my own. So go on over to her site and leave her lots & lots of comments, b/c she's a self-proclaimed comment slut, and she deserves a barrage of them for fixing me up like this.

Posted by Kalisa at 2:25 PM | Permalink | Comments

My organization has a fund-raiser that's a dream home raffle. Buy a ticket for $100, get a chance to win a house worth $350,000, and other prizes, like jewelry and gift certificates. We have them all over the country - wherever raffles are legal. Each giveaway raises about a million dollars for us.

So we just had our second one in Bakersfield, Calif. And the couple that won the house raise goats for a living. And this is the quote they gave us for the news release:

"I was just hoping to win the $1,000 gift certificate from Valley Feed Pet Store so I could feed my goats. I never thought we'd win the house."

It's not every day you come across a quote like that.

Posted by Kalisa at 11:12 AM | Permalink | Comments

Friday, August 6, 5 p.m.
Chili's by Oak Court

Does that work for everyone? I'll be the one in the bar with the tiara on...you can't miss me.

Posted by Kalisa at 9:27 PM | Permalink | Comments

OK, people...I KNOW her name was in the corner of the photo...that wasn't the point. Because, who of you, I ask, would've known who Bryce Dallas Howard was had that been the question I'd posed? The point was...she's Ron Howard's daughter. I didn't even know he HAD a daughter in the biz. Much less that she looked so much like him. Only prettier. Just play along with me, mmmkay?

Posted by Kalisa at 6:34 PM | Permalink | Comments

Guess who this is 

Posted by Kalisa at 11:49 AM | Permalink | Comments

Bryce Dallas Howard. She stars in M. Night Shyamalan's new spooky flick "The Village." Can you guess who she is? She's Ron Howard's daughter. And she's getting raves.

Posted by Kalisa at 11:44 AM | Permalink | Comments

He's having a party.

Posted by Kalisa at 10:44 AM | Permalink | Comments

I'm trying to catch up on everyone's blog entries from when I was gone, and imagine my surprise to find that two of my Hot Memphis Bloggers are actually a Hot Memphis Item!!! Yo, G & Steph - you go, babes!! As much as I claim to NOT be a romantic, I love a good fairy tale.

So, in honor of Steph & G, we must - simply MUST - get our Tennessee Tiaras together before Stephanie leaves for grad school.

Based on the minimal amount of info you've shared with me, I will try to schedule something. I'm thinking something in the middle of town (that's - hopefully - convenient to all), like Chili's by Oak Court Mall - or something downtown???

Please let me know if you have any opinion on this before I send out the actually invite.

Cheers!

Posted by Kalisa at 9:04 PM | Permalink | Comments

Thank you all for your reading recommendations. Here's what I bought for the trip:
Last Chance Saloon (Marian Keyes) - as recommended by Helen and Natalie. I've read several of her books, so I was hard-pressed to find a new one, but I was pretty sure I hadn't read this one.
I'm a Stranger Here Myself (Bill Bryson) - also recommended by Helen. She actually recommended "Notes from a Big Country" but I couldn't find that one.
The Dive from Clausen's Pier (Ann Packer) - as recommended by Natalie.

I wanted the new David Sedaris as recommended by Mice, but it's not out in paperback yet. I have this thing about waiting for the paperback (STILL waiting for Da Vinci Code)...plus, I didn't want the extra weight in my carry-on.

Here's what I actually read: Last Chance Saloon. I mean, you know...it's a good topless sunbathing read. And I enjoyed it thoroughly, and recommend it highly.

Of course I'll read the others soon. So I'll let you know how I like them as well.

Posted by Kalisa at 8:34 PM | Permalink | Comments

Saturday, 24 July, 4:30 a.m. CEST
I met the Prince. And hopefully I won't be fired when I get home.

But let me back up. First, let me tell you about the gala. It was fabulous!! The room was set up in the Vegas show style - long rows of tables at angles to the stage - which I much prefer to the horrid rounds of 8 or 10 we always have in the states.

The table in the very center of the room was the head table, where the very VIPS - like the Prince - would sit.

Guests entered on the stage, where a Costa Rican band played. A man (un homme) in a white dinner jacket looked up your table number and called it out to a young handsome escort. I was at table #21. "Vingt et un!" he hollered, like a French auctioneer.

My escort walked me down the lighted steps at the front of the stage. On the dance floor, at the bottom of the steps, were more handsome young Frenchmen offering pina coladas. A photog snapped photos, which, I imagined (like a cruise) they would try to sell to us later. Oh well...good cause & all, right??

OK, so - champagne (lots of it), appetizer, first course. The band changed to one with a female singer (singing en anglais) as background music during the dinner.

In between courses, I grabbed my own camera and went around to some of the other tables to take pics of my friends & colleagues. Eventually, I made it over to CEO's table.

Now, I've mentioned here before that I used to sing in a band. What I didn't tell you is that it was made up of all people from my organization. And we named ourselves after CEO. He loved us. We played a lot of work events, board dinners, and a fund-raising gala in Boston, as well as bar gigs.

So CEO knows I sing. Every time he sees me, he asks, "How come you're not singing in my band anymore?" I always tell him, "It was time to hang up my microphone...there's only so much sex, drugs & rock-n-roll a girl can take."

So when I came to his table to take a photo of him at the gala, the girl on stage was singing Evita. Which I love. Love love love. Have the soundtrack. Know all the words. Of all the songs. So kind of as a little joke to CEO, I put my arm around his shoulder & started serenading him with "Don't cry for me Argentina..." at the top of my lungs. Did I mention that much champagne had been consumed?

After a few lines, I looked up to notice that His Highness is sitting ONE CHAIR DOWN from CEO!! MON DIEU!! How did I not notice this??

And Monsignor is looking at me. Now, he could've gone back to his dinner and simply ignored the crazy crass American (with the powerful yet beautiful voice).  But no.

He reached out his hand to me. My mind is racing:  Ohmygodohmygodohmygod. What is the proper protocol here? (Oh right sure. NOW I'm suddenly concerned with protocol...) I took his hand. Speak when spoken to & all that. He kissed my hand.

I said, "Bon soir" and introduced myself. CEO is laughing his ass off at me and telling the Prince, "She works for me! She works for me!" Maybe not so fired afterall.

And H.S.H. Crown Prince Albert of Monaco says to me, "Why don't you get a microphone & show them how it's done?"

And everyone laughed politely and I got the hell outta there afraid I'd just committed the biggest faux pas in the history of the world.

And BTW - I've heard the rumors...but the man is definitely not gay.

After the gala, we went down to Jimmy'Z - the hip cool Monaco club packed with Eurotrash, uberskinny women, drugs. The drinks were 37 euro each...that's about $45!! No shit. For one drink!! Which was all we had, then headed out somewhere a little more in our price range.

We continued drinking champagne and closed down a cafe called the Sass club. We got back to the hotel at 4:30 a.m.

I have five rolls of film to develop...when my luggage finally makes it back to this country. So look for photos here in about a week.

Posted by Kalisa at 6:20 PM | Permalink | Comments

Thursday, 22 July, 5:30 p.m. CEST

We had a meeting with the folks from the Press Center and the Grimaldi Forum this morning. There's a Russian exhibit at the Forum and, after our meeting, they offered us a complimentary visit. It was AMAZING. I just love all things Russian anyway. And the presentation of the pieces was so very, very impressive.

I got back to the hotel, changed into my swim suit, and was out at the pool by 12:30. I spent four & a half hours out there soaking up the Mediterranean sun. It was divine. And check this: I can cross something off my "Things To Do Before I Die" list today: Sunbathe topless on the Riviera.

Posted by Kalisa at 2:36 PM | Permalink | Comments

Thursday, 22 July, 12:30 a.m. Central European Summer Time (CEST)
I arrived at the hotel at 5 p.m., checked in, unpacked a bit. Got all my work stuff out, and went to a 5:30 staff meeting.

At the meeting, JB (the lead on this event) hands out envelopes to everyone. "What's this?" I hope it's money. "That's your invite to the Salvidor Dali art show tonight. The Prince will be there. You must have an invitation to enter."

Great. I was told I would not be "on the list" for that event tonight. I'd planned to take a hot bath and go to bed early. Eleven hours on a plane. No make up to speak of. Dirty hair. Tired as shit. BUT NOW I'M GOING TO MEET THE PRINCE!! I mean, I can't NOT go! I have 30 minutes to transform myself into something royal-worthy. Which I do. Of course. B/c that's the kind of girl I am.

The event is crowded and hot. Europeans just aren't into their AC the way we are in these southern states. A mob of photogs, security and Eurotrash crowd the Prince the entire time. I hardly get to see him, but I try to position myself near a piece of art so that he'll see me as he walks through. I did catch his eye, if only for a second. This cleavage is worth it's weight in gold, I tell ya.

The protocol is that no one can leave before His Highness. Once he departs, the place clears out like rats off a sinking ship.

A group of nine of us go to dinner at La Maison de Caviar. We sit outside and it all just feels so...European. I have smoked salmon blini and garlic shrimp. Wine flows like a river here. It's almost midnight when we get back to the hotel. I'm so tired. I call home and it's good to hear My Kid & Big Daddy's voices. I take a hot bath and finally fall into bed.

Posted by Kalisa at 2:25 PM | Permalink | Comments

I'm back!

And I now personally know the definition of "bone tired."

Sorry I couldn't post while I was gone. But I did keep a written journal, so I'm going to catch you up on everything now. Just pretend like it's in real time.

Tuesday, July 20 7:33 p.m. Central Daylight Time (CDT)
Well this just feels like a regular old domestic flight. Except that they boarded a bit earlier. PLEASE do not tell my boss that I was the very last person on the plane.

And then, of course, I had major nesting to do once I'm  in my seat - take my contacts out, switch my shoes for socks & slippers, find my pillow, my book...

The girl next to me is from Austria. Her name is Theodora. She looks like Audrey Tautou in "Amélie." I ask her several questions about overseas flight. I think she's impatient with me.

The plane is different than I'm used to, too. There are light controls on the armrest, but there's no air control. I wish they'd turn on the fucking air.

7:53 p.m. CDT
Well, I may have driven Theodora crazy already. She found a row of seats in the center that was practically empty and moved over there. She claimed to do it as a favor to me so that I could sleep. Who knows? Maybe that's normal international flight behavior.

And this'll blow your skirt up: alcohol is FREE on international flights - even in coach. Cool.

8:45 p.m. CDT
They're serving dinner & I'm still awake. I'd totally planned to be asleep by now. I am pretty drunk though. Could there BE anymore microwaved carbs in this meal??

12:30 a.m. CDT
I awake to the captain's voice over the cabin intercom saying "Seatbelts, please." Are we landing? Near as I can figure, I've been asleep about four hours. My sinuses are swollen and I'm so dehydrated. I hope I can go back to sleep. I stretch out across the two seats in my row and I'm very grateful that Theodora decided to move.

 

 

Posted by Kalisa at 1:37 PM | Permalink | Comments

Hello from Sweety's hometown! It's a little after 12 noon here. I slept a total of about 6 hours on the flight over, so that was OK. I am feeling slightly lagged though. I got internet connection at the airport - 15 minutes for 3 euros - so I thought I'd say hi! Off to find some food now. This is a very cool airport.

Posted by Kalisa at 5:13 AM | Permalink | Comments

Well, I'm off. Big Daddy & My Kid are taking me to dinner, then to the airport. My suitcase must weigh 150 pounds. I hope I don't have to carry it myself. I have no idea if I'll have a chance to post while I'm gone. And pictures will be slow coming as I'm taking the old-fashioned camera & film instead of the digital one. I'm really excited. I just hope I can sleep on the plane so I'm some use while I'm there. I'm not concerned at all about terrorists or safety in flying. Jet lag - now that scares me. Au revoir!

Posted by Kalisa at 2:59 PM | Permalink | Comments

I know...I have so much to do...I have no business pondering which level of Dante's Inferno I will be judged to spend eternity. But so what. I was curious.
 
The Dante's Inferno Test has banished you to the Sixth Level of Hell - The City of Dis!
Here is how you matched up against all the levels:

Posted by Kalisa at 10:18 PM | Permalink | Comments

I feel like I'm getting to know you all so well, I'm ready to tell you a little more about me. So here's the story of me & Big Daddy.
 
I met Big Daddy when we were both in college. But we were not college-aged kids. I was 25 (I think) and he must have been about 22. I had lived on my own since I was 19 and paid for my own college, so I'd kind of been in & out of school for a few years.
 
When we met, we were both dating other people. I was dating G - a musician in town - and he was dating J. We met through a mutual friend M, who played keyboards in a house band in town. The three of us started hanging out quite a bit. Big Daddy & I would go to M's restaurant on the weekends. After his set, we'd all 3 go out for drinks & dessert at The North End.
 
Before long, the restaurant where M played shut down. The band broke up. M moved back to Minneapolis, his home town. That left me & Big Daddy on our own. I often joke with him that if he had moved away, I would have married M.
 
Big Daddy & I hung out for several months. During that time, I broke up with G. I was crazy about him, but it turns out he was screwing pretty much every attractive young woman in the city. Big Daddy confided to his best friend that he had feelings for me. She advised him that he should break up with J immediately. So he did.
 
Big Daddy told me how he felt about me. I was telling stinging from what G did to me. I told him, "Don't chase me. I'll run."
 
He said, "OK. I'll wait."
 
And he did. We kept hanging out. We went to movies. We went for walks in the park. It felt like something out of "When Harry Met Sally." My friends kept saying, "What are you waiting for??"
 
Finally, late in the fall, I forced myself to move ahead. We had been to a movie - "Malcolm X." He dropped me off at my house. He had somewhere to be and couldn't come in. It was pouring down rain. I kissed him in the doorway.
 
Fast forward to New Year's Eve, just a couple months later. We went to a dance and I had the time of my life. I knew that night that I loved him.
 
The next morning, I found out I was pregnant.
 
I believe that it happened in that order for a reason. I truly believed that Big Daddy was my destiny. But I didn't want to get married right away. We had so much to consider. So many decisions. We agreed that it would take two people to raise this child, but given all the decisions we had to make, deciding if we wanted to spend our lives together was not one we wanted to consider at this time.
 
We rented a house. A small house. 850 square feet. But it was in a nice neighborhood, and it had a backyard. His parents bought us a (tiny) washer & dryer that fit into the kitchen so I wouldn't have to haul all that baby laundry to the laundrymat.
 
By May, Big Daddy came to me and said, "I don't like telling people you're my wife when you're not."
 
I said, "So let's get married."
 
We planned a simple wedding in our backyard.
 
It was beautiful really. We rented a tent that covered our entire yard. Our fabulous neighbor Nathan, who had a beautiful yard, brought over all his hanging plants to hang around the edges of the tent. We rented chairs, tables, and a carpet for me to walk. My former roommate's mom decorated the tables and chairs with beautiful flowers & candles. It was Memorial Day weekend. Everyone that came into town for our wedding enjoyed the Sunset Symphony the night before our wedding.
 
We were married by a very understanding Methodist minister who said, "You just got the cart before the horse." All our friends & family were there. My brother gave me away, since my dad is gone. After the ceremony, we all enjoyed Corky's bar-b-que. My Mother made a beautiful wedding cake for us. It was three months to the day before My Kid would make his appearance.
 
Things were tough for us for a while. I had dropped out of school when I was pregnant and was too tired to attend class and keep working. Big Daddy was still in school and was working 12-hour shifts at an adolescent treatment center at night. We were on WIC and food stamps, I'm proud to say. I've worked and paid my taxes since I was 17 years old. I'm not embarrassed that we took advantage of governmental assistance when we needed it.
 
We perservered. Big Daddy graduated and got a real job. I went back to school when My Kid was 2, and eventually got my degree and a good job. We moved out of the tiny house and bought a house of our own. It's been up and onward since then.
 
Happily ever after and all that...

Posted by Kalisa at 8:48 PM | Permalink | Comments

In 48 hours, I'll be on a plane to Nice, France...followed by a fantastic helicopter ride into Monte Carlo. I'm nearly overwhelmed by the idea. I just keep telling myself that it's just regular people who happen to live on another continent.
 
My plan for the trip over is this: I leave Tuesday at 7:30 p.m. Memphis-time. I'll wear some comfy yoga pants and a t-shirt on the plane. Socks. Slippers. Take a sleeping pill. Have a couple glasses of wine. Sleep at least seven hours. That's the plan.
 
Nine hours later, we land in Amsterdam. Suddenly, it's 11 a.m. Wednesday morning! I have about a two & a half hour layover there. I'll clean up a bit. Put in my contacts. Put on some make up. Change clothes into something cute and resort-like for Monaco. It's a two hour flight from Amsterdam to Nice. Then the Helio ride into Monaco. Check into the hotel. Have a few meetings late that afternoon upon arrival, but nothing stressful. Plan to go to bed early.
 
Thursday, all the work starts.
 
I just seriously don't know whether to be nervous or excited.
 
 
Things to Pack
Pink Republic Skirt
White VS bra top
White cardigan
White pants
Black Republic top
Swim suit
Flowered mini skirt
Pink VS bra top
Various tank tops
Pink capris
White T
pajamas
Pink cocktail dress
Black cocktail dress
Formal
Black heels
Pink heels
Brown Michael Kors sandals
Pink ankle strap heels
Black ankle strap heels
camera
film
meds
flat iron
electrical converter
 
To Pack in Carry-on
travel pillow
books
bottled water
slippers
make up bag
contacts
flowered skirt
coral top (& bra)
rhinestone thongs
meds
passport
euros
 

Posted by Kalisa at 8:32 PM | Permalink | Comments

I'm glad to see you guys want to meet! How cool! Email me at kalisa@midsouth.rr.com and let me know when is good for you (Friday after work, Saturday afternoon...whatever) and also what part of town you're coming from & I'll try to find a centrally located place for us to meet!
 
Tennessee Tiaras does have a nice ring, don't you think?

Posted by Kalisa at 7:23 PM | Permalink | Comments

This weekend I read "The Time Travelers Wife." I wasn't sure I was going to like this book, b/c when I think of "time traveling," I think of waking up as a Christian being fed to the lions, waking up in a Neanderthal cave...that kind of stuff isn't all that appealing to me. But that's not what this book was about at all.
 
It was a love story. And yes, the guy time traveled, but he basically traveled around in his own (and his wife's) life. So it was very touching. And sad in the end. Not to ruin it for any of you who might want to read it. But the end did make me cry.
 
Overall, I'd give this book an 8 out of 10. Definitely worth the read.

Posted by Kalisa at 6:10 PM | Permalink | Comments

I'm having trouble keeping my internet connection for more than about 30 seconds at a time, so posting has become practically impossible.

Posted by Kalisa at 12:18 PM | Permalink | Comments

My Kid was watching South Park - the Metrosexual Queer Eye episode - and Cartman was wearing a pink t-shirt with Marilyn Monroe on it. My Kid asked me, "Is that Madonna on his shirt?"
Gah!
 
 

Posted by Kalisa at 6:01 PM | Permalink | Comments

Me & My Kid just watched "Secondhand Lions." We've seen it before, but he really likes it. It was on Starz this morning so we watched it again. That is such a good flick.

Posted by Kalisa at 12:54 PM | Permalink | Comments

It is a CK's kind of morning. I'm ready for a fried egg sandwich, so we're off to see our waitress friend who looks like The Cryptkeeper. Mmmm...hashbrowns.

UPDATE: For those of you not from the M-town, CK's is our fabulous 24-hour greasy diner. It's small, with a counter, six or eight booths, and a juke box with lots of country music CDs. There's a couple of really, really old waitresses, a black woman cooking and a young black man helping bus tables and wash dishes. Big Daddy recommends the Paul Bunyan Breakfast. My Kid likes the waffles. (They have a great malted flavor to them.) And the hashbrowns. We all love the hashbrowns. CK's is one of the only places on earth where I want to overeat. It's just all so damn good. And greasy. And even though one fried egg sandwich and hashbrowns fills me up, I really want to eat two.
 
 

Posted by Kalisa at 10:41 AM | Permalink | Comments

So I was thinking...Stephanie leaves in less than a month for Grad School. Would you hot Memphis chicks (& dudes) like to get together for a drink to meet up, wish her well and send her off in style?
 
Just a thought. You know, they have their little monthly thing in Houston where all the Houston bloggers meet up. I won't make you wear tiaras, though.
 
Thoughts? Comments? Ideas?

Posted by Kalisa at 4:15 PM | Permalink | Comments

Can you name the movie?
 
"If our lord wasn't testing us, how would you account for the proliferation, these days, of this obscene rock and roll music, with its gospel of easy sexuality and relaxed morality?"

Posted by Kalisa at 3:20 PM | Permalink | Comments

Yesterday I didn't have any cash, but My Kid did, so I took $20 from his money box before work. When I got home, I said to him, "Oh - I borrowed some money from you."
 
He said, "I know!" (Apparently he counts his money often.) "It's a loan, so you gotta pay me back more than you took."
 
Thinking I would give him a little lesson in economics, I asked him, "And what's that called? The extra money I have to pay you back?"
 
He provided me an economics lesson of his own: "PROFIT."

Posted by Kalisa at 1:24 PM | Permalink | Comments

Yesterday evening I slipped on a magazine that one of the boys left on the living room floor. My feet went flying out from under me and when I landed I knocked the shit out of my upper arm on the edge of the glass coffee table. I think I'm gonna have a huge bruise for Monaco.
 
PLUS, I was carrying a glass of red wine at the time, which I did not just drop in order to leave a single large stain on the rug that could be easily blotted and treated. Oh no. It, too, went flying, and splattered into hundreds of spots that covered the entire width of my living room rug.
 
And the nightmares have started - right on schedule. This always happens to me when I devote a great deal of time and energy to an event like this, or the class reunion. And they always start one week to the day before the event. Last night, I dreamed His Serene Highness Crown Prince Albert of Monaco didn't show up for the gala. But that could never happen.

Posted by Kalisa at 7:02 AM | Permalink | Comments

I was outside a minute ago. You know I live in the burbs. And this lady was out walking her baby in a stroller and an older daughter - she was maybe about 6 years old, with a blonde ponytail. They had stopped to talk to the old lady catty-corner from my house. As the ladies talked, this little girl was dancing around completely uninhibited and singing at the top of her lungs. I think she was singing, "Beeeeetle buuuuuug!"
 
Something about that totally warms my heart.
 
 

Posted by Kalisa at 9:13 PM | Permalink | Comments

Thank you all for your heartfelt support of my shoe addiction. I was so pleased by all of your comments that I read them out loud to Big Daddy! And now, in appreciation, I have posted photos of the shoes that I'm taking. Because it seems apparent to me that you all appreciate beautiful shoes as much as I do. Enjoy!

Posted by Kalisa at 8:21 PM | Permalink | Comments

for the D&G black cocktail dress and the iridescent burgundy formal...these strappy black heels 

Posted by Kalisa at 8:18 PM | Permalink | Comments

for the pink Nicky M cocktail dress...these Via Spiga sexy strappys 

Posted by Kalisa at 8:17 PM | Permalink | Comments

for the news conference...these cheap but comfy Nine West sandals 

Posted by Kalisa at 8:17 PM | Permalink | Comments

For meetings with the press center and walk-throughs of the event facilities...these cute pink sandals that I found in a boutique in Florida. Because Monaco is very resort-like in their attire. (In an obscenely expensive sort of way.)

Posted by Kalisa at 8:16 PM | Permalink | Comments

Vanessa posed a question to me in a comment earlier today. She asked: "Do you think it's worse to be overdressed or underdressed? (That question came to me because of your blog's name)."

Well, I can tell you that I believe whole-heartedly that it's much, MUCH worse to be underdressed than overdressed.

But then the question that begs to be asked is: "Why?"

So I thought perhaps I should address my philosphy here and now.

See, to me, you can never look too good. Being overdressed leads to one, very wonderful, result: everyone notices you! All the attention is on you! (Notice the tagline that I just yesterday added to my blog title!)

I present Exhibit A: If I go to a casual, neighborhood, backyard cookout, and all the other moms are in shorts and flip-flops, and I wear a cute little sundress - maybe even *gasp* skyscrapers (heels) - everyone will be talking about how cute I am. No one will leave the party saying, "Wow! Did you get a load 'a them khaki shorts Billy's mom was wearing??!"

Exhibit B: If I go to a football game in an outdoor stadium on a beautiful, chilly fall day, and everyone else has on jeans and sweatshirts, and I wear a plaid wool mini skirt with high-heeled boots and a cashmere sweater, who do you think gets all the looks? Not those silly little college girls.

Hello. I'm Kalisah. And I'm an attention whore.

On the other hand...
If you show up to an event and your underdressed, attention will still be forthcoming. But it will not be the GOOD kind. Oh, no no no.

Jeans with flat sandals and a Gap tank top is a very cute outfit on its own, but show up to a cocktail party where every other girl has on a LBD, and you look rather pitiful. The girls will look at you and frown and shake their heads and whisper, "So sad that she has no sense of style."

The thing is - a confident woman can pull off either one. But a confident woman who is overdressed will have everyone convinced - without saying a word - that she fully intended it that way. Every man there will want to leave with her. And every woman there will wish they'd thought of it first.

Posted by Kalisa at 5:19 PM | Permalink | Comments

So check this out. Big Daddy decided that when we sell the other house we'll need something else to replace it as a tax shelter. HE THINKS WE SHOULD BUY A BOAT!!! How cool is that??? Can you totally see me laying out on a boat on the weekends, sipping bottomless margaritas while my boys fish lazily from the deck? I am soooo into this!

Posted by Kalisa at 10:29 PM | Permalink | Comments

Heh heh. Guess what I just did?

COOKED DINNER FOR TOMORROW NIGHT!!

I did! This is twice in one month! I'm becoming all domesticated and shit!

Posted by Kalisa at 8:37 PM | Permalink | Comments

Earlier this afternoon the bank called. My Euros are in. I had them order some for me so I wouldn't have to deal with exchanging them later. And they needed me to come pick them up. So I called Big Daddy and had him run out & get them for me.

Before I left the office, Big Daddy called me. He said, "I did something for you, now I need you to do something for me." He asked me to stop by the lake on my way home and pick up some live bait (minnnows) for My Kid. I guess he has plans to go fishing tomorrow with his friends. In my head, this doesn't seem like quite an even trade, but OK.

So I pull into the parking lot of "the lake" on my way home, and I park by the little bait store. When I get out of the car, the first thing I notice is that it smells like ass out here. Like stale, rotten swamp water. Gross. And, of course, the parking lot is not paved. It's chalky, dusty gravel. Which I am attempting to traverse in my high-heeled Michael Kors sandals. For the life of me, I can not think of a single place on earth that I would appear more out of place than I do here, at this moment.

I go into the little trailer and there's two country girls in there smoking cigarettes. I take a quick look around and see that they don't only have bait. They also have - how's THIS for a stereotype - Moon Pies and Pepsi.

I see worms and chicken livers but no minnows. So I ask the girl behind the counter. "Do you have minnows?" I say.

She nods. Well this is progress.

"Where? Where are they? Back here?" I motion to the opposite side of the tiny trailer where the worms and chicken livers are in a cooler. With the Pepsis.

"Out there." She waves her hand vaguely. I have no fucking idea what she's talking about. "How many do you want?"

I stare at her blankly. "A dozen?" she prompts.

"Yeah, sure. A dozen." She rings me up for $1.42.

"Did you bring something to put them in?" she asks me.

Yeah. Look at me. DO I LOOK LIKE I'M CARRYING A WATER-TIGHT BAIT CONTAINER WITH A LID???

She told me they didn't close until dark, so we'll come back. With Tupperware or something.

UPDATE: We went back for the minnows after dinner. This time, the "boss" was there, and he looked at me like I was an idiot for thinking I was going to put 24 minnows in that little tupperware bowl. He said, "Why don't you just buy the bucket? It's like two dollars."

And BTW, the stupid fish were all DEAD by this morning.

Posted by Kalisa at 6:47 PM | Permalink | Comments

Do you think five pairs of shoes is too many to take to Monaco? I'll be there five days.

Posted by Kalisa at 2:52 PM | Permalink | Comments

Sweety (who is guestposting at Casey's) shared her misadventures in babysitting. That got me thinking to my worst babysitting experience.

I was a junior in high school and this really rich family in town (they owned a huge house on the beach) that I had only ever sat for once or twice called me. Well, the wife called me. She was really desperate for a sitter, and even though it was a school night and my dad generally didn't allow me to sit on school nights, I agreed.

When he dropped me off (OK, I didn't have a car. Or even a license. I TOLD you I was a big loser in high school), I got the rest of the story. Her husband was out of town and she was going out for a wild girls night out. Oh yeah, and I needed to keep her friend's kids, too. But they promised to pay me DOUBLE. It was 1983 and I think the going rate was $5 an hour, so double was good! And they also promised to be home by midnight. School night and all.

The kids went to bed at a decent hour - they were all under the age of, I don't know, 5. I tried to stay up but it got late and I got tired. I dozed off & on. It grew later. And later. Way passed midnight. I got worried. I didn't know what to do so I called - get this - my boyfriend because my dad would be asleep. (I'm not sure what, exactly, I thought my boyfriend's family was doing at 2 a.m. on a week night.) He talked me into calling my dad. Dad got up, came back over to the house and waited while I slept (so as to hopefully make class the next morning).

The drunken bitches finally showed up at 5:30 in the morning! They'd been - I don't know - arrested or something. My dad was furious. She scribbled out a check for me for $50 (which, BTW, was no where near the "double" they'd promised to pay me, since I'd just spent more than 10 hours there).

Ahh, the joys of teenage employment. At least I never had any babysitting dads try to grope my tits or anything. Oh, that's right...I didn't have tits in high school.

Posted by Kalisa at 8:38 PM | Permalink | Comments

As seen at Joelle's, who stole it from Quirkychick.

FIRSTS
First job: I worked at Senor Taco in my hometown. For a long time. Much longer than I ever should have. And I ate a lot of free Senor Nachos.
First screen name: kalisagirl
First self-purchased CD: Shit, I can tell you the first RECORD I bought myself. REO Speedwagon "Hi Infedelity." Stop laughing. I mean it. Stop it. Right now.
First piercing/tattoo: Well, yeah. My parents FINALLY let me pierce my ears when I was 13. And let's see...after that...oh. That's it. For the record, I've WANTED a tattoo for years. But now I'm afraid somehow that, at my age, I've missed my window of opportunity.
First true love: Oh this one's easy. Ricky Brice. He dumped me for M.R., who he then got pregnant. Then he stole a car and went to jail. Then he broke out of jail and escaped to Florida. Then he got caught and went back to jail, where he unceremoniously hung himself. Can I pick 'em or what?
First enemy: Well duh! M.R.

Posted by Kalisa at 8:19 PM | Permalink | Comments

Leaving the seat up doesn't seem to be a problem in my home. Nooooo. They have taken to not bothering to put the seat up at all. And peeing all over the seat. WTF?? When did my boys become so lazy as to not lift the seat? And how the hell will I ever break them of this new vile habit??

Posted by Kalisa at 8:15 PM | Permalink | Comments

Someone in the office complimented Little Intern Girl on her purse - it's polka dotted. She said, "Thanks, my grandma bought it for me." Then she went on to tell us where they bought it. And about their little shopping excursion. And that it has a matching wallet. Which she then pulled out to show us. The wallet also has polka dots. And a BOW. "Yeah..." said Little Intern Girl, "I LIKE BOWS."

Huh. Figures.

Posted by Kalisa at 3:08 PM | Permalink | Comments

Hi! Welcome to the Summer Party! Ahhh, Heat Advisory...it's about damn time you showed up. We were starting to worry about you. Yes, High Humidity has been here for a while. And I think that Stifling Temperatures has been looking for you. (His little brother Mild didn't get to stay long, I'm afraid. Too bad. Everyone liked him.) Daily Steamy Showers is just about to leave. I hope. She's been fucking up the whole party. Blistering Carseats and Scorching Pavement are having a big time tormenting people as they always do. I don't even know why we invite them. There's drinks on the patio - they won't cool you off any but if you drink enough of them, you won't mind Oppressive Heat quite so much, eh? Yeah, I know...he's so overbearing. But hey! It's Summer! In the South! You signed up for this party, now get out there & enjoy your pals!

Posted by Kalisa at 1:13 PM | Permalink | Comments

Big Daddy thought that, in honor of my upcoming trip, we should rent "Eurotrip" tonight. Luckily I had a couple of presidentes at Chili's for dinner so I was in sufficient humor for it. I don't think my trip will be anything like that.

OK, did you know that was Matt Daman as the band's lead singer singing "Scotty Doesn't Know"???

Posted by Kalisa at 8:25 PM | Permalink | Comments

I need book recommendations. I've never made a trans-Atlantic flight before and, although I do intend on sleeping the whole time, I'm not usually able to sleep on planes. So I'm looking for book recommendations.

Nothing too heavy, obviously. Engrossing is good, but too much thought should not be required as I may be jet lagged or, at the very least, exhausted. I'm not opposed to Chick Lit as long as it's got some sustenance. And sorry, I don't do science fiction or mysteries. Or anything too horrifically graphic.

That should narrow my choices down considerably.

Posted by Kalisa at 4:22 PM | Permalink | Comments

Bush is down in my state today. You know, we have a saying in Tennessee...I guess we have it in Tennessee; they have it in Texas...

Anyway

President Bush defended his decision to invade Iraq even as he conceded on Monday that investigators had not found the weapons of mass destruction that he had warned the country possessed.

Allowing Iraq to possibly transfer weapons capability to terrorists was not a risk he was willing to take, Bush said.

"Although we have not found stockpiles of weapons of mass destruction, we were right to go into Iraq," Bush said after inspecting a display of nuclear weapons parts and equipment, including assembled gas centrifuges for uranium enrichment, from Libya.

Posted by Kalisa at 2:22 PM | Permalink | Comments

If you weren't already appalled by the liberties this administration has taken with our Consititutional rights, then this should scare the hell out of you.

Counterterrorism officials are looking into the possibility of postponing the November presidential election if there is a terrorist attack at election time, Newsweek reported Sunday.

Homeland Security Secretary Tom Ridge warned last week that Osama bin Laden's al-Qaeda network may attack within the USA to try to disrupt the election.

The magazine cited unnamed sources who said the Department of Homeland Security asked the Justice Department for advice last week.

Newsweek said DeForest Soaries, chairman of the U.S. Election Assistance Commission, wants Ridge to ask Congress to pass legislation giving the government power to cancel or reschedule a federal election. Soaries said New York suspended primary elections on the day of the Sept. 11 attacks, but the federal government does not appear to have that authority.

Posted by Kalisa at 12:45 PM | Permalink | Comments

So, earlier this month the Bush-Cheney website - the actual, true, authentic Bush-Cheney web site - got this grand idea to let the country create their own Bush-Cheney banners. You could enter your slogan and print up your own poster complete with their logo and the words "Paid for by Bush-Cheney 04, Inc."

Many clever Democrats couldn't get enough of this fun new tool! Sadly, the Sloganator suffered an early demise once the campaign caught on to the action. But you can see some of them here.

Posted by Kalisa at 10:40 AM | Permalink | Comments

Can't believe it's Sunday night already.

Friday night the three of us went to see "The Terminal." I was a little disappointed. I thought that most all of the characters were severely shallow and underdeveloped. And I totally didn't get why the Home Land Security dude spent the whole movie trying to get Tom Hanks out of his airport, but then, when he could leave, Airport Dude tried to stop him?? Maybe I had a few too many cocktails before the movie b/c I was not following that part at all.

On Saturday, I had a lot of errands to run. I leave for Monaco a week from Tuesday, which is very exciting b/c I've never been to Europe!! So I had to take my two cocktail dresses to the cleaners. And I had to take my formal to the alterations shop to get it hemmed. It's a beautiful iridescent burgundy dress that I found a couple of years ago on sale. This is the first time I've had such a formal opportunity to wear it. It's fabulous. It's Greek Goddess-like.

Big Daddy was busy working on the landscaping of the other house - getting it in selling order, you know - so I took him lunch. I told him I was thinking of going to the mall to try to find a necklace to wear with my formal. He said, "Maybe I'll buy you a nice piece of jewelry." Ahhh...man of my heart!! He followed that up with a quick request to have me pick up a couple pairs of boxers for him at Old Navy. Isn't marriage romantic?

We met up later at the mall and Big Daddy bought be a beautiful diamond necklace! I thought that called for a little something special for Big Daddy in return, so I called My Kid and had him make arrangements to spend the night at The Twins'.

Big Daddy was tired from all the yard work though, so we just went for a nice dinner at Grisanti's. I had veal parmesan. It was YUM!!

Today I did laundry, cleaned a bit and COOKED DINNER. Wow. That's a big shocker. I can't even remember the last time I cooked at home. It's been months, I'm sure. I made chicken spaghetti, at Big Daddy's request. There's no such thing as too much Italian to him.

And we watched "The Butterfly Effect" on DVD. Not a movie I would ordinarily care to see, but I was bored and there's no sports on this time of year. Surprisingly, it was really good. I was impressed. Not like it's my favorite movie or anything, but I didn't feel like I'd wasted two hours. I thought it was very well done. Especially the end, which I wouldn't call a "surprise" ending - not like, "Wow! No shit?" - but it was not predictable and that is a very very good thing in movies these days.

Now My Kid is home, with The Twins, who are spending the night here tonight. I'm glad he has such good friends. They're good kids and sleepovers mean My Kid has other kids to play with. But I'm going to put away the lap top now lest they get any crazy ideas.

Posted by Kalisa at 8:13 PM | Permalink | Comments

The Chrysler 300...cool car or pimp mobile? Big Daddy wants one bad.

Posted by Kalisa at 11:59 AM | Permalink | Comments

Tiffers was Tigger. I kinda thought I would be, too, but turns out...

Posted by Kalisa at 11:55 AM | Permalink | Comments

who the hell decided BOWS would be in this season?? I'm about as girly-girl as they get, but that's too much even for me. Buyers, take note: do not stock your stores with clothes covered in bows. Fucking please.

Posted by Kalisa at 6:13 PM | Permalink | Comments

OK, and here's a hint: if you're going to wear open-toed sandals (high-heeled or flats) DO NOT WEAR PANTY HOSE WITH THEM. Especially nude colored hose. Gross.

Posted by Kalisa at 6:11 PM | Permalink | Comments

If the economy is supposed to be so lousy, how come I can't find a parking space at the mall?

Posted by Kalisa at 6:02 PM | Permalink | Comments

GUESS WHICH ONE IS ME??? 

Posted by Kalisa at 5:56 PM | Permalink | Comments

This morning I got the following email from Cynical Joe:

From NYT: Mr. Ridge said reliable information pointed to an attack in which terrorists would try to "disrupt our democratic process," suggesting an attack designed to disrupt the national political conventions or the elections in November.

How exactly would an attack “disrupt our democratic process”? Will all voting stations be taken out? Or will every political person in D.C. be harmed?

It’s very pretty language, that “disrupt our democratic process” but it sounds an awful lot like:

Mr. Ridge said reliable information pointed to an attack in which terrorists would try to “cause you ignorant people to elect Kerry or someone else President, cause if that happens all troops will be pulled from Iraq and the new President will never act accordingly to a terrorist strike like our current President would, God be praised.”

Posted by Kalisa at 9:01 AM | Permalink | Comments

So this morning, I'm standing in line at Starbucks, waiting to order a coffee. When suddenly, "Ahh...ahhh...ahhh..." I have to sneeze. So I very politely turn around, so as not to sneeze all over the woman in front of me in line, "...CHOOO!" and sneeze instead all over the man BEHIND me in line.

"Oh my god! I am so sorry! I did not know you were there!"

A minute later when I get up to the counter I order: "I'll have a grande non-fat latte, and whatever he's having." I motion to the man who has been showered with my snot.

"Oh, no, that's OK," he insists.

"No, please," I say. "That way I won't have to be so embarrassed."

Posted by Kalisa at 8:56 AM | Permalink | Comments

I have a Mid Year's Resolution: I resolve to never again sit through a sales presentation. I can not think of a bigger waste of my time. B/c I run the Communications office, including the Graphic Design team, I somehow seem to attract fast-talking account managers from every print shop in the country.

Phone: Ring. Ring.
Me: Communications, this is Overdressed.
Smarmy Sales Guy: Hi, Overdressed! This is Smarmy Sales Guy!
Me: Hi. [Do I know you? B/c you're talking to me like I'm your long-lost best friend.] How can I help you? [Get on with it.]
SSG: I'm with Yet Another Printing Company, and I'm going to be in your area next Thursday! I was hoping I could stop by and show you a little about what Yet Another can do for you!
M: Uhhhh...[Damn. Damn damn damn. Do not say yes. Do not say yes.] Yeah, OK. [NO!!]
SSG: Great! How does 2 o'clock on Thursday work for you?
M: OK. [And stop talking in exclamation points, fucktard.]

Fastforward to 1:45 the following Thursday.
Phone: Ring. Ring.
Me: Communications, this is Overdressed.
Receptionist: There's a Mr. Guy in the lobby here to see you.
Me: OK, thanks. I'll be right down. [LIE]

30 minutes later, in the lobby:
Me: Hi, Smarmy. Look, I'm sorry but I'm really, really busy. Something's come up and I'm not going to be able to meet with you today. Do you have a capabilities piece you can just leave with me? Mmm-kay. Thanks."

I know, shitty. They're just regular working folks trying to make a buck. I get it. But if I ever came across a genuine, sincere salesperson, who didn't try to fast talk me and shower me with cheap plastic gifts covered in his company's logo, I would happily sit and listen to his pitch. Until then - I'M OUTTA HERE!

Posted by Kalisa at 4:03 PM | Permalink | Comments

How much do I love Gretchen??? LOOK! I have links. I love when I do something technical.

Posted by Kalisa at 3:36 PM | Permalink | Comments

I might as well post mine.

My Scores:
Wackiness: 24/100
Rationality: 40/100
Constructiveness: 32/100
Leadership: 66/100

My Description:
You are an SEDL--Sober Emotional Destructive Leader. This makes you a dictator. You prefer to control situations, and lack of control makes you physically sick. You feel have responsibility for everyone's welfare, and that you will be blamed when things go wrong. Things do go wrong, and you take it harder than you should.

You rely on the validation and support of others, but you have a secret distrust for people and distaste for their habits and weaknesses that make you keep your distance from them. This makes you very difficult to be with romantically. Still, a level-headed peacemaker can keep you balanced.

Despite your fierce temper and general hot-bloodedness, you have a soft spot for animals and a surprising passion for the arts. Sometimes you would almost rather live by your wits in the wilderness somewhere, if you could bring your books and your sketchbook.

You also have a strange, undeniable sexiness to you. You may go insane.


Hmmm..let's see...
Controlling? Yes.
Distaste for people? YES (see occasional references to the "unwashed masses")
Level-headed peacemaker? That would've been a good idea. But soooo not Big Daddy.
Passion for the arts? Absolutely
Live in the wilderness? Ha. Not without my designer shoes
Strange sexiness? Yeah, probably
Go insane? bwwaaaahhaahaaa! too late.

Posted by Kalisa at 11:47 AM | Permalink | Comments

I read the book, and I've been waiting for the movie to come out on DVD. After seeing "Mystic River" I was dying to see the performance (of Renee Zellweger) that could beat out Marcia Gay Hardin for the best supporting actress oscar.

So I finally rented it. And this scene where they kill Esco Swanger and torture his wife (Kathy Baker, and I must admit, I love everyone from "Picket Fences") just seemed like a little gratuitous violence that they added to the movie. I absolutely do not remember that in the book. Do you?

Posted by Kalisa at 9:17 PM | Permalink | Comments

Current favorite commercial to hate: the one for Veet hair removal system - which, I'm sorry? But did you used to be "Neet"? Or are you just trying to get people to THINK that you're "Neet," or that there never was a "Neet" that it was always "Veet" so buy me! buy me! buy me! - where the guy BLINDFOLDS the girl and then uses the product and the "bladeless razor" on her legs to give her smooth skin that lasts longer than shaving.

And I can't help but think, "Why the blindfold?" Is this like kinky, bladeless razor sex? B/c I just don't get that. I've been shaving my legs a long, long time. And I fail to see anything sexy about the actual process of removing the hair.

I don't know who they think is buying this stuff, but this ad can't possibly be aimed at me.

Posted by Kalisa at 11:18 AM | Permalink | Comments

that's how many breaths I've taken in my lifetime (according to this calculator).

Emily is raising money for the American Lung Association in the Project-Blog. She has vowed to update her blog every 30 minutes for 24 hours on July 24th to raise money for charity. Please go give her a couple of bucks. It's important to support the good works of others (especially if, like me, you're too lazy to actually do good works yourself).

And while you're there (on project-blog), if you click on the "participating bloggers" list, it will tell you what charity each is supporting. You may find some other worthy causes you like.

Now go give. Give til it hurts.

Posted by Kalisa at 3:40 PM | Permalink | Comments

Posted by Kalisa at 3:18 PM | Permalink | Comments

From the July 12 issue of Time Magazine:

He [Moore] also hired the former chief of fact checking at the New Yorker magazine to comb the film for inaccuracies. "There's lots of disagreement with my analysis of these facts or my opinion based on the facts. But," he insists, "there is not a single factual error in the movie. I'm thinking of offering a $10,000 reward for anyone that can find a single fact that's wrong."

Posted by Kalisa at 2:32 PM | Permalink | Comments

I know yesterday was actually the 4th, but I work for one of those organizations that gives us the seven major holidays, so when one falls on Sunday we get the Monday off. Which is great. So I’m sitting around watching the CBS soaps and catching up on the laundry from the trip.

I’ve noticed a lot of bloggers – even some of the European ones – are recognizing Independence Day. (Does anyone really call it that??) So I thought I better at least mention it or I may end up on our illustrious homeland security’s black list. I already bought Michael Moore’s book “Dude, Where’s My Country?” so I’d better not tempt US-Patriot-Act-Fate.

Here’s the thing: there’s not a lot of holidays that I even like.
Halloween – not into costume, all that candy is murder on the figure, and the gory, gross, eerie stuff freaks me out.
Christmas – never a fun time around my house growing up. Mother always had a complete breakdown at Christmas, so the holiday just sucks for me. Everything about it – the tree, the stockings, the lights – all has negative connotations for me. Plus, Christmas usually means getting together with family and I am sooo not into that. Ever. Holiday or no.
New Years – never ever lives up to the hype. I hate going out b/c it’s Amateur Night - folks who never drink are out getting tight and trying to drive home. Short of being invited to the high society, black tie, party of the year (which, so far, has yet to happen), I will never be satisfied ringing in the New Year.
Thanksgiving – well, at least I like the food. The down side is all that cooking usually leads to me & Big Daddy getting stressed and irritable and arguing. Then, of course, there’s the whole family-coming-over thing again.
Easter – don’t care about the religious part, so once My Kid no longer believed in the Easter Bunny, that holiday fell by the wayside.
Valentine’s – Big Daddy says this is the day you “say ‘I Love You’ the biggest way you know how.” I try, but I’m just not a romantic. So I pick up a card and have sex with him. Done.
Memorial & Labor Days – My deceased father was a veteran of WWII. These holidays just make me miss him. I’m into the whole cooking out and drinking mojitos part…as long as family doesn’t have to come over to share the meal.

Then there’s the Fourth of July. I grew up outside D.C., so we used to go to the Washington Monument for the national fireworks. Then we moved to Mississippi and one of the many culture shocks I suffered was people setting off their own pyrotechnics. I do not mind telling you that that scared the ever-loving shit out of me. Mother had always taken great pride in frightening us with horror stories about kids getting their fingers blown off and shit. I was the kid too afraid to do sparklers.

Once I got out on my own I didn’t have to do fireworks anymore. No more crowds. No more explosives. Several years of basically ignoring the holiday. Then My Kid got old enough to where Big Daddy wanted to set off fireworks with him. And we moved out to the county, where all the other families in the cove bought hundreds of dollars worth of mortars, bottle rockets and firecrackers to set off. I’m getting used to it, I guess. It’s their thing. They live for it. All the kids in the neighborhood come to our house b/c they know Mr. Big Daddy is going to have the biggest and best stuff. The only way I even got the two of them to go to the coast for my reunion was to promise we’d be home by dark on Sunday for their annual show.

I need a happy pool party with red, white & blue bunting like they always have on As the World Turns and Guiding Light. Until then, I’ll get me a Philly cheese steak from Lenny’s. That’s patriotic, eh?

Posted by Kalisa at 2:29 PM | Permalink | Comments

I had the BEST TIME. It was just so much fun. It was so great seeing people, and everyone just looked really, really good. Since I had been working on making all those name tags for everyone with their senior portraits on them, I was even able to recognize just about everyone.

The best part was when 1984's "Most Handsome" S.L. - who I had a huge crush on our entire senior year - says to me, "Damn! You did not look like this in high school!" He kept trying to get me to take pictures with him. Heh heh heh.

I was given the "Still Got It After 20 Years" award along with S.D. - who was always cute & popular and looked awesome! I thought she was the best looking girl there. I was just glad that damn cheerleader J.R. didn't get it! Heh heh heh.

I know a couple of you asked about which dress I chose. I was going to post a picture of it, but I didn't seem to get any shots of myself??? I'll have to wait for someone to email me one. Anyway...it was the pink one. I really, really liked the tangerine one, but it just did not fit me right. I even ordered a SECOND one in a different size. The pink one looked better so we went with that. I got a lot of compliments on it, which is not surprising, considering every girl there had on a black dress, black hose and black pumps. WTF??? It's the middle of July in mississippi, and you're wearing PANTY HOSE???

The hardest people to recognize after all these years are the ones that gained just a ton of weight. I never realized how much that changes the way you look. I guess there were two people that I actually had to ask, "who is that?"

Several people who'd always been a little on the heavy side as teenagers had lost weight and looked really amazing. Funny, I always thought P.E. was about my height. She actually seemed a lot taller without those extra pounds.

Several folks that still live in town didn't show up at all, and I was a little disappointed by that. Even if you think that you don't want to see anyone, someone may want to see YOU. And please - staying home b/c of petty fueds that happened a lifetime ago? That's just ridiculous.

L.A. - our senior class president - acted a little bit like she'd rather not have been there. She came in all the way from New England somewhere. I think she was feeling a little above the Mississippi crowd. She left about two hours into the evening.

B.P. and his husband of 13 years slow danced and none of the football players pounded them. Wow. I guess most of us matured afterall.

P.B.'s baby had more teeth in his mouth than she did. Ewwww. Gross. Because I did not grow up in the country. It was a relatively small town, but it was you know - suburbs. I did, however, see a big fat fucking PIG in the front yard of a house on my way to one of the events. And this sticker on a whole lot of stop signs. No question we were in Mississippi.

Posted by Kalisa at 7:06 PM | Permalink | Comments

Hold on to your confederate dollars, boys! 

Posted by Kalisa at 6:47 PM | Permalink | Comments

Did I mention that I went to high school on the Mississippi gulf coast? Yeah, so we drove through the state of Mississippi today. I can't begin to tell you the excitement of all that.

Jackson, Miss., is my least favorite city IN THE WORLD. It sucks. I even tried to live there once, but that lasted all of two months. Big Daddy drove from Memphis half-way to Jackson (about an hour and a half), then I took over and he went to sleep in the back seat. By the time we got to Jxn, I had driven through some pretty serious storms, I was tired and I was ready for a coffee.

Of course, there are no starbucks in Jackson. Best I can figure. I got off the highway and drove the service road, and I even had My Kid looking out for one. Eventually I saw a sign for some coffee shop in a book store so I made my way there. It was raining its ass off.

I stood in line for half a lifetime while the guy behind the counter leisurely made two coffees for the lady in front of me in line. When she went to pay he had to look up her discount number in the computer b/c she didn't have her card. THAT took forever. I mean, how much discount are you gonna get on a cup of coffee??? Meanwhile, the girl next to me in line told me all about how she's having trouble getting pregnant and all the medication her doctor has her on. Swear to god. I hate Jackson.

Back in the car, we passed a fried chicken fast food joint whose logo was a chicken cutting its own head off.

I'll just stop now. It's too much. It's just too much.

Posted by Kalisa at 11:33 PM | Permalink | Comments