Happy Love Thursday!

To celebrate Love Thursday...

Here are two love photos from The Hurricane's two first days of school.

One in January.
One in August.

Because he had his first day of school for the second time this week.


Did I mention that?

He started one school in January, but we pulled him out a week later.

Not because he wasn't ready. He was fine.

But we weren't ready.

Now, we're better.


Kind-of.

Because on the days he's there, we're wrecks.

We both call each other all day to speculate on what he's doing...is he playing, is he snacking, is he napping? (it's pretty much only one of the three) Is he breaking anything? Or biting anyone? Is he making friends? Is he having fun?

Basically, we hope with all our hearts that he's really loving it!

Because we really hope he loves school.

In fact, more than almost anything else that we hope for him,
we hope that he loves learning.

And we hope he lives a life where he never ever stops.


P.S. I figured we go ahead and go non-anon since the Padrino already outted us earlier this week.

I'm Impervious To The Marketing.

I rarely fall into the Gap, but today I semi-accidentally did.

Because the Hurricane needed socks. Last night, we discovered (to use a lot of negatives) that he owns no socks that aren’t too small or too “girly” as Maria pointed out.

“Los calcetines del nene son para niñas.”

So, as I stumbled into Baby Gap and seized the opportunity to secure my 11-month-old's manliness, I remembered why I don’t usually Gap. Because every freaking thing in there charges at least $24.99 for you to advertise for, um, The Gap.

Hi, My Mom Buys My Clothes At The Gap!

What, You Think I’m Cool? Well, That’s Because My People Shop At The Gap!

Hey, You Lady Babies, You Too Should Buy Your Clothes At The Gap!

Did I Mention The Gap? Well Just In Case You, Like Myself, Can't Read, Hear Me Now As My Clothes Scream THE GAP!

I felt like a sellout. Like I was in the gift shop of a country star's theme park or a major political convention. Like I’ve got to get the heck out of this Gappy place full of Gappy stuff or my Hurricane will be sporting something primary colored that says “My mom went to the Gap and all I got was this lousy Gap T-shirt.”

I mean, who do these Gap executives think we are? A bunch of Gap lemmings who’ll gladly dish out dollars without question or royalties to promote their Gap agenda? After all, we’re not just being bought, we’re buying! Well, no thank you. I, for one, am not a weak, mindless puppet just waiting to jump on the next train to….oh...wait…

And then I saw it...


Not in the Baby Gap,
but across many well-folded piles
in the attached Regular People Gap...

And somehow it all seemed right.

I moved in closer. And next thing I knew, I was two inches away from the in-store, point-of-purchase signage. I wanted to lick the lifesize Piven-shops-at-the-Gap-you-should-too poster, but thankfully the Misophobia kicked in. So I surveyed the Ari Gold Gap offering. And I knew, I knew!, that right then and there, I needed to buy my husband whatever shirts he, I mean, they were selling. It’s what had to happen. It was simply the right thing to do.

Award Shows Are Stupid. Stupid That I Must Watch.

Here's the Best of the Emmy's con Queso in no particular order of importance.

Best Presenters Hands Down: Stephen Colbert and Jon Stewart

Best Speech: Greg Garcia

Most Favorite Couple: Seal and Heidi Klum

Seemingly Most Comfortable in a Fancy Dress: Portia deRossi

Most Dorado: Katherine Heigl

Most Annoyed with Ryan Seacrest: Leah Remini

Most Respectful to His Writers and His Date: Jeremy Piven

Best Updo: Julia Louis-Dreyfus and Heidi Klum (total tie)

Person Like Whom We All Hope To Age: Jaclyn Smith

Most Beautiful Skin Tone Evaah: Eva Longoria

HcQ’s Vote for Perfect: Jenna Fischer

Best Actress Who Was Both In the Cast of the Outstanding Comedy Series AND In My British Lit After Burns Class: Angela Kinsey

This is When I Admit I'm a High-Maintenance Product Whore

After the houseguest slash Padrino left for Intergalactic Airport, I couldn't wait to lock myself into my second favorite room and completely hog the bathtub for as long as humanly possible. (Once the Hurricane's food, bath, Neptune, bottle, goodnight ritual was completed, of course, of course, of course.)

And while there and soaking, I realized that I have yet another commitment issue.

Every product I use in my nightly cleansing comes from a very different parent company. Because I am a highly scrubbed consumer, who obviously can't commit to a product line. And as a result, my bathtub shelf looks a little something like this.

Laura Mercier Tarte au Citron Honey Bath

Bliss Lemon+Sage Body Scrub

Philip B White Truffle Shampoo

Bumble and Bumble Alojoba Conditioner

Kusco-Murphy Lavender Hair Crème

Alterna Hemp Seed Straightening Balm

Origins Get Down Deep-Pore Clay Cleanser

Fresh Soy Face Cleanser

Dr. Hauschka Facial Toner

Philosophy Hope in a Jar

Kiehl’s Creamy Eye Treatment with Avocado

Aveda Tourmaline Charged Hydrating Crème

And that's just the daily ritual parade of products. I'm not even talking a special hydrating, masking, or treatment occasion here. Because I frankly don't have enough time in the day to even go there.

Since when did I become such a high-maintenance bath trollop?

And am I alone here in my whoredom? Are there other streetwalkers out there working the corner of Saks Beauty Place and Sephora? If so, be honest, are there other tricks I should add to my line up?

Because this is who I am. This is the kind of variety I need. And this mindless post is what I did during the frequent commericals of a long arse awards show.

Exactly How Long Did That Take You?

J: I’m bored.

L: Why don’t you read my blog?

J: Already did.

L: Why don’t you read something else?

J: No, I’ve already read everything on the Internet.

It's the Seventh Wave.

Karen at Chookooloonks is throwing a Love Thursday party. And we don't miss parties around here. So here's a lovely love shot con queso.

The Hurricane and me. Just hangin'.

He'd only been in the world three weeks, so we were both still adjusting and out-of-our-minds exhausted. But man, the love was flowing.

So today, as he was literally running around the house and screaming words in an alien tongue, while waving his little hands in the air like he just don't care, I thought:

• Wow, he's loud.
• Man, he's fast.
  
• Wasn't it just yesterday that he was all little and cuddley?
• I can't believe he's starting school next week.
• And really, how is it physically possible for 11 months to pass so freaking quickly?

But it's no secret. Time flies when you're in love. And there is no deeper wave than this.

24.

A lot of people love the TV show, 24. I've never seen it. But I understand it's a show about Julia Roberts' ex-boyfriend running around solving mysteries, or murders, or math problems or something, and it takes place over the course of 24 hours.

We have a different version of 24 around our house. It's 24 minutes of pure fantastic. 24 minutes of unparalled, uninterrupted happiness. It's called Baby Neptune. And it lasts exactly 24 minutes long.

How do we know? Because we know that when we pop that bad boy in, not only will the Hurricane enjoy a puppeted tribute to all things aquatic, we will have 24 minutes to do whatever we want to do. Within reason. And within 24 minutes.

You say you don't have enough time in the day. I say we don't have enough time in the Baby Neptune.

Because the DVD is short. And you have to live it to the fullest.


We get this. And we now know how much can actually happen in 24. How much is physically, mentally, emotionally, and spiritually possible. So, circle the world with love, welcome week survivors. That's right. Because we have pushed these 1,440 seconds to the ultimate limit. Live action adventure.

My current record = I can spot clean the entire house, do the dishes, make the Hurricane's food for the day, start a load of whites, finish writing a press release, and return four emails. All in 24 minutes. All between 5:14 and 5:38 a.m.

So Donald Sutherland's kid can kiss it. Because even he can't hang with this kind of extreme multi-tasking race-to-the-finish reality drama.

Have a Very Dancey Day

This piece of happy goodness just made my freaking day. So please enjoy. And, by all means, feel free to get your dance on in your world.

Where the Hell is Matt was found, enjoyed, and completely stolen with permission from Chookooloonks, the most beautiful blog in all the land.

Green is Good.

Okay, we're going vegetarian for a couple of weeks.

That's right.

1 from the barbecue capital of Texas + 1 who recently purchased this = 2 who are going veggie.

I'm not exactly sure why we're doing it, and I'm not sure how long it will last, but I know this. This means that earlier the brilliant husband (mmhm, that's right, I said the brilliant husband, Blancosizzle, so please just suck it) planned all of our meals for the week, then went to the grocery store, and is currently chopping lots of green things in the kitchen, of our home, which now smells amazing. So. So far, I love being a vegetarian so freaking much, I can hardly stand it.

However, I won't know for sure how much I love it until the Padrino gets here, so we can finally taste it, paired with the batch of watermelon margs I just made to counteract the healthiness of the cuisine.

Speaking of the juice...

We've been so very out of town. But here's a watermelon treat we're currently enjoying pool-side at the FIL's in the Dalli.

Happy Weekend!

Watermelon Margaritas

For a make-ahead tip, you can freeze the diced watermelon up to two weeks before getting your drink on. Place diced watermelon on a cookie sheet in the freezer for six hours or overnight. Store frozen cubes in a zip-top freezer bag until ready to use.

2 cups diced seeded watermelon, frozen
3/4 cup tequila
1/3 cup triple sec (orange-flavored liqueur)
1 tablespoon sugar
2 tablespoons lime juice
2 cups crushed ice
Granulated sugar (optional)
Lime slices (optional)
Orange slices (optional)

Place frozen watermelon, tequila, triple sec, sugar, and lime juice in a blender; process until smooth. Add ice; process until smooth. Serve in glasses rimmed with sugar, and garnish with lime and orange slices, if desired.

Yield: 5 servings (serving size: 1 cup)

NUTRITION PER SERVINGCALORIES 157(2% from fat); FAT 0.2g (sat 0.2g,mono 0.0g,poly 0.0g); PROTEIN 0.2g; CHOLESTEROL 0.0mg; CALCIUM 6mg; SODIUM 2mg; FIBER 0.4g; IRON 0.1mg; CARBOHYDRATE 6g

It's Getting Juicy in Here.

Not that you asked me but... says that readers' comments are often the best part of the blog. That's definitely the case in the con queso. Because lately some pretty interesting confessions have been popping up.

Call it truth serum con queso.

You know, back in the day, Truth or Dare was more than just Madonna's tribute to Madonna. It was a game you played to win. Of course, the cool kids always chose dare because truth seemed way too boring. And, well, because we were eight. But most of us have learned through the years, as we've accumulated more truths, that telling them is the most daring act of all. Living them, well don't even get me started.

So.

What's your confessional, your truth you wouldn't dare tell? Feel free to go anon. But come on. If you can't share your secrets in an extremely open forum of friends, freaks and lurkers, then where can you? I mean, honestly.

Three Point Six Miles to Another World

Last Wednesday, we traveled just a few miles up the street to par-tay with 70,000 of our happiest friends. I say happy, because each and everyone in the sold-out gig was so freaking ecstatic to be there that he or she didn’t care one ounce that the event: went well past midnight, required standing (not only on your feet, but also on the seats), and charged $8 for a beer.

I honestly have never seen anything like it.

It was lunacy.

Lunacy.

Tens of thousands of people gathered to chant, scream, stomp, sing, explode, etc. in unison. Not for The Rolling Stones, but for Ronaldihno.

Never heard of him? Well, don’t feel too bad, because neither had I. But feel kind-of bad, because 69,999 others in the room most definitely had. Heard of him. Showed up for him. Screamed like certifiable maniacs for him.

Because he’s huge. Huger than huge. All these guys are.

Ronaldihno, Deco, Eto’o, Messi, Puyol, Sylvinho.

Obviously, when you go by one name, you’re big. But when you peek your headband out of a lineup, and tens of thousands of people body-slam themselves to take your picture with their camera phones, you’re pretty much enormous. Gigantic. Colossal. Epic. Paris Hilton and Kelly Ripa would literally eat lard for this kind of fame.

And I’d never heard of any of them.

But Mr. con Queso had. In fact, he’d traveled to England only a few weeks ago just to watch eleven of the amazing on TV with other world cup nuts. Of course, the famous were also available in our living room 24/7. In high-def. Although with less craze and crazy.

But it seems the crazy is getting closer. And for the record, I’m completely cool with it.

Because, for one, there are worse sports. Two, the players are beyond aesthetically pleasing. And tres, we have fab season tickets to our local MLS team; so now we can see the cute in person, I mean, see the incredible footwork in action. Plus, if it’s good for Posh, it’s good for me.

I will never have an issue with that brand of crazy moving to town.

Because I love it so much, I could drink it.

WATERMELON AGUA FRESCA

• 1 very ripe, red seedless watermelon, about 12 pounds
• Juice of 4 limes
• 3/4 cup sugar
• 1 cup crushed fresh mint leaves, plus sprigs for garnish
• 4 cups sparkling water
• 3 limes, thinly sliced
• 2 quarts ice cubes

Cut the watermelon in half and, using a metal spoon, scoop the flesh into a large bowl. Working in batches, puree the watermelon in a blender or food processor. Transfer the batches to another large bowl.

Add the lime juice, sugar and mint leaves to the puree, and stir to dissolve the sugar and combine the ingredients. Cover and let stand at room temperature for at least 1 hour or up to 3 hours to allow the flavors to develop.

Pour the watermelon mixture through a medium-mesh sieve into a large, clear glass jar. Add the sparkling water, lime slices and ice. Ladle or pour into glasses, and garnish each glass with a mint sprig.

Makes 8 servings.

T.G.I.F.

And by that, I mean Thank God It’s Fresh.


I found Fresh approximately six hours before we bumped into these people (who, if you’ll notice, are totally pro-paci) before we went here. Anyway, back to earlier, we’d just come from here because someone needed to go there (I have never loved those cupcakes like McAdams loves Gosling.) and were on our way here or here (I can’t remember), when we stopped in and I bought this and this (which, sadly, after yesterday, I can not use as marketed).

Ever since, I’ve been getting amazing Fresh pieces in the mail from the guy who sold it to me. I could go on and on about it. But just know it's usually my favorite thing about 5:30 a.m. besides seeing the Hurricane.

And for you guy readers, forget all that you’ve skimmed above.
By TGIF, I mean this.
Or, in our house, this.

Tuesday is iTunetastic

It’s the second Tuesday of the month, and here’s what’s playing on the iTuneage…

The Top 11 on the Magic ‘Recently Played’ Folder

(I warn you, these are the last 11 songs I listened to at work today, so obviously I like them enough. And so I may have a lot to say. If you have a tendency to not give a crap, then please, by all means, stop reading now. No? Okay, but remember I warned you.)

“You Wanted It” by MoZella
Was introduced to this by KCG on NTYAMB. No doubt he purchased the album on iTunes because Mo looks hot on the cover. But no matter, the song is great. He says the first time he heard it, he was drinking coffee and reading the paper on a perfect Sunday morning. The first time I heard it, I was trying to get the Hurricane out of the laundry room. So I choose to link it to Ken’s memory. Therefore, it reminds me of the first time I ever heard it when I was in a perfectly spotless house, reading the paper, drinking coffee, deciding where to brunch and being fabulous with all my cool, mod stuff in my perfectly ordered space. Etc.

“Here it Goes Again” by OK Go
This is currently my favorite song today. Mainly because it won’t get out of my head (ever since I saw its blastedly brilliant treadmill video). So instead of fighting it, insulting its mother and throwing all its clothes out on the front lawn, I’ve chosen to peacefully coexist with the bastard, letting it take over the remote, eat everything in the fridge and torture the cat until it decides to pick up one morning and leave unannounced to travel with a circus across Europe.

“Winter In the Hamptons” by Josh Rouse
I LOVE this song. And I actually do have a fantastic memory association here. This song is beautiful to me because it is, and also because it makes me think of a very cold and rainy Sunday morning in February when the Hurricane, the Brilliant Husband and I stayed in all cozy in our pajamas or whatever until 2 p.m. Because we could. And because it was cold. It wasn’t winter in the Hamptons, it was better.

“Suddenly I See” by KT Turnstall
Great pop song. Her voice is raspy and smart. Suddenly I see just why the hell it means to much to her. I want to be her friend. And suddenly see things right along with her. The first time I heard this song I liked it. Then, when I heard it as the perfect song playing in the excellent and aesthetically pleasing Devil Wears Prada opening, I loved it. And I love it more everytime I hear it. GcQ + SIS = Heart 4 Evah.

"Everytime" by the Samples
I'm not going home the same way I came. That first line is enough for me to love you forever. I've already loved you since 1993. So forever's not that long to go. Okay, so maybe it's GcQ + Everytime = Heart 4 Evah. I was never good at commitment, SIS. Sorry. It's not you, it's me.

“Destiny” by Zero 7
Again. Love it. And again. Great memory association. This song was on a disc of music the Soho Grand provided guests when we stayed there one Christmas. So basically, this song makes me think of cold shopping days at Takashimaya, G&Ts at the Oak Room and Bull and Bear, Nobu with JJ, getting checked out by Matt Damon in the lobby of the SG (yeah, that's right, it happened) and lots of time at MarieBelle. It’s all tied together like that.

“That’s My Nigga Fo Real” by Young Zee
What can I say, I can just really relate to this song. He like gets me. It’s like he's totally speaking to me about my life when he says, “And my down bitches, they be ready to kill; I be like chill, they be like..That's my nigga for real.” I mean, for reals y'all.

“Closet” by Pete Yorn
Another great one. Any song that starts, “This is a song called Closet,” in a computer voice before the guitars and drums start up, is okay in my book. Songs should always introduce themselves. It’s just polite. Again, a memory. Jeez. Sorry. But anything from this album (musicforthemorning) makes me think of the concert we went to with J and L (the other J and L) at the Majestic in Dallas. Great front row seats, J. Mainly I remember that he covered the much-beloved Stone Roses “She Bangs the Drums” almost as good as Ian, John, Mani and Reni would have done. Almost.

“somebody that i used to know” by Elliott Smith
This song reminds me of somebody that I used to know. Okay just kidding. But it should. Really, this song reminds me how much I can’t stand it when people refuse to capitalize anything. And most especially when people purposefully don’t capitalize to be all artful or emo or whatever. Don’t even get me started. But back to task. This song is a simple masterpiece. It should be listened to at a very high volume.

“I Spy” by Guster
Again with the memory. (Okay, seriously. This is even annoying me. So if you’re still reading, I owe you a drink. It’s like I’m making you watch home videos from 1978 or look at old Brownie badges or something.) Memories actually. This song brings up a lot of them. Like when we went down to the may parade. Or when we played asshole the card game until 4 a.m. in Telluride. Or when the bongo player stood around with ice bags in the hands. Etc. I swear I’m not drinking. If you were there for any of these varied moments, you know what I’m talking about.

“Doubting Thomas” by Nickel Creek
The lyrics to this song are so incredibly beautiful. So splendidly offered in three-part harmony. And so perfectly framed with guitar, mandolin and violin. This song is a prayer. It doesn’t get much better.

A Thousand Beautiful Things

Speaking of creating beautiful things and using your time wisely...

Check it.

Caged Inspiration

Prison: Killer broke rules with M&M art
SAN FRANCISCO, California (AP) -- A convicted killer who sold postcard-size paintings he created with dye from M&Ms and brushes fashioned from his hair broke prison rules by running an unauthorized business out of his cell, officials said. (Read more.)

"Not only does this guy have talent, but he's done wondrous things with what he's got."

What an incredible story.

It seems Donny Johnson became exceptionally resourceful in order to create a bit of beauty in the midst of self-inflicted tragedy, exile, and alienation. To initiate contribution in spite of confines and restrictions.

Impressive.

And yes, he did some incredibly dark things. Some incredibly unforgivable things.

But it's interesting that someone who has the capability to create such chaos and destruction also has the ability to create such beauty.

Reading his story makes me think about the choices we all have. The many opportunities and blessings we each possess. The potential to create, capture, and foster beauty...or its opposites...and the many mediums we have to do it everyday.

I wonder what we are creating. And what is confining us. What are we each doing with the resources, the time, and the talents we have? Is it beautiful? Does it inspire? I wonder.

The Queso Fantastic Awards

This week's QueSO Fantastic Awards go out to THIS.

And THIS.

And THIS.

Let's give them all a round of applause. Hip hip ole. We'd like to extend a hearty thank you to all of our sponsors and a big congratulations to all of our winners.

Thank you for stopping in, and have a save drive home.

Solla Solla Enna Perumai

Brilliant husband forwarded this to me today and said...

"Whenever I am down, I watch this video...They should play this in Lebanon and Israel, and there would be peace."

Because It's August...

...And because you asked for it...

...And because I love you all so...


It's on.

The Watermelon Smackdown begins now.

The Celebrated and Coveted Watermelon Gazpacho Recipe

* 1 Seedless Watermelon, dice small
* 4 Cucumbers, seeded, dice small
* 4 Celery stalks, dice small
* 2 Red Peppers, dice small
* 2 Yellow Bell Peppers, dice small
* 1 Red Onion, dice small
* 1 Bunch Green Onion, sliced
* 3-6 Tbs Fresh Lime Juice (The word fresh is beyond key. And the amount you should put in depends on how much you likey the lime. I put in enough to make mimes pucker-faced.)
*1/3 cup Fresh Mint, finely chopped (Please also adjust to taste)
*3 oz EVOO (That would be extra-virgin olive oil)
*2 Tbs Red Wine Vinegar
*2 Tbs Cayenne Pepper
*2 oz Cumin
(I also throw in spashes of Tabasco sauce, but that’s just me.)

Mix all ingredients in food processor or blender and chill for two or more hours before serving.

Remember that you are having fun and trying to make something that tastes good; and so therefore feel free to throw in anything else you think might taste nice. If it works out for you, changes the recipe and/or your life, you better let me know about it.

Recipe courtesy of me and (Catering to) Your Every Whim.

The Hurricane and the Watermelon