Halloween Tricks & Tramps

Less than 12 hours until perfectly normal, successful women trade in all traces of decency and slut-it-up in the name of everyone's favorite pagan holdover, Halloween!

You go girl. Way to set the women's movement back 15 years - all for three hours of glory in a naughty nurse costume.

The first year we lived in the City in Two States, we attended a Junior League Halloween fête at the country club. I thought this would be a fun, festive event where drinks would be enjoyed while an 80's cover band entertained the crowd. Being new to town, I imagined this would a pretty tame party.

Instead we encountered Playboy bunnies, french maids, skanky Pocahontas's (one being the league president), naughty nurses galore and hundreds of jello shots.

And as the jello shots disappeared, boobs appeared. We saw more asses than Yankee Stadium in late October.

These women had children and sent out super cute Whitney English Christmas cards. Attorneys, teachers and drug reps (well, no one was surprised about the drug reps...) hanging out of cheap costumes and keeping careful watch for open flames.

And we wag our fingers at Britney...puh-lease.

In honor of those who want to use Halloween as the excuse to singlehandedly bring sexy back, here are Mrs. News Readin's top picks for Tricks & Tramps:

Take two of these and call me in the morning.

You're going to need a sweater.

No concealed weapons here.

Pirate wench...because the kids are totally into Pirates of the Caribbean.

Does Raggedy Andy know you're out dressed like that?

Mr. News Readin' wanted to know which one I'm wearing to a Halloween party Saturday night:



Sexy pilgrim. 'Cause that's how I roll. Chaste.


Edited to Note:
It has been suggested that I am coming across prudish - which I'm not. All I'm saying is if you're asking me where I go to church on Sundays and how volunteering, carpooling and running marathons are putting the squeeze on gourmet meal-making BUT are dressed like I should be stuffing dollar bills in your pants (if you're even wearing pants...) there is something seriously wrong.

Make new friends, but keep the old

The Vodka Fairy and I go wayyy back.

She is unequivocally my Madame of liquor...VF knows what I like and how I like it. Bottom line - she made seven months on the Atkins Diet, pre-big white dress, bearable. (Surviving on chicken salad and cheese was not as easy as I thought it was going to be...but damn I looked skinny for the pictures.)

Bumped into VF recently at a friend's tailgate. She pulled me aside and said,"You've got to meet my new friend...tall, dark and Southern."

Jack Daniels? George Dickel? Johnnie Walker?

"No- no, my dear. This one's young and different."

Oh, and was she right.

One sip and I said, "Lead the way home, honey."

Meet my new friend:

Photo courtesy of: Firefly Distillery

Firefly Sweet Tea Vodka aka Juice of the gods.

Just another reason why I love the South... and the Vodka Fairy.

Needless to say, we partied like it was NYC 2002 and I was wearing chandelier earrings. Pure magic.

If you're looking for own sip of tall, dark and Southern click here.

Cheers!

Mrs. News Readin'

West Coast Swing: Part I

As a born and bred New Yorker it is deeply embedded in my psyche to find all things California...meh.

Our recent trip to the West Coast banished all of that and replaced it with, "A reporter job in San Francisco? Let me think, Mr. News Readin'...When are the moving trucks coming for our things?" Loved it.

The trip with our friends, Anne & Lee from Nashville, has been in the works for months . Mr. News Readin' and Lee grew up together and have had the great fortune of marrying two women who have birthdays a week apart AND really like each other. So traveling in early October is now an annual happening. Mr. News Readin' also has the bonus of our anniversary being one week before my birthday. (Coincidence? I think not...)

Here are some highlights from the Monterey Peninsula (Day 1 & 2):


A view from the 17-mile loop

We stayed at a great Marriott right near the wharf and Cannery Row. The view from our room:



The concierge sent us chocolate covered strawberries for our anniversary with a very nice note.



While the boys played the Links at Spanish Bay, Anne and I indulged in much needed spa-ahhhhing at Spa on the Plaza at the Portola Hotel & Spa. It was great and I love the Pevonia products forced on me.

Harbor seals and sea lions were everywhere and you could hear them all night long.

We ate dinner at the most adorable place in Carmel called Casanova's. (It's 10 minute drive from Monterey to Carmel.)

It's a little house converted with several small dining rooms. We ate in the Milagro Room below.



Their coffee service was perfect. I almost five-finger discounted the mini cruet with creamer. Too cute!




We spent our last morning/afternoon on the peninsula driving the 17-mile loop and walking around Carmel. Great shops...I picked up a beautiful apron with my monogram from a French linens store called Jan de Luz. And then I spotted this...

The Nook, a tea and sandwich shop just down the street and right out of a Grimm's fairy tale.


On to Sonoma...

Oh, and I am seeking permission from Anne & Lee to publish pictures of them from the trip. Because people in pictures are just more interesting. As you might suspect, the News Readin' Husband cannot be pictured. Otherwise, I'll have to pony up 4% to his agent. (Yes, he has an agent.)

Facebook: Making friends you never wanted

Let me preface this all by saying, I'm all for a good time suck during the work day. And Facebook, takes the the time suck to a whole new level. Yay.

However, Facebook is not all happy, swell meadows of wasted time.

There are the moment-to-moment updates (Kelly is tired today. Really? Me too. Grab a Diet Coke and move it along. No one cares if you are sleepy...), supporting a lackluster cause (Save Pushing Daisies 2008-2009) and the worst...forced friendships via the virtual class reunion.

I understand the need for people to feel liked by having 343 friends. But here's the deal...I'll be your friend - but keep it simple. Confirm or decline. Got it?

We'll both benefit number-wise and who knows maybe I'll be able to reconnect with my high school boyfriend - (who is definitely still listening to the Pearl Jam song, Black pining for me) - because he's friends with your college roommate.

That is how Facebook is supposed to work.

Here's what it's not for...actually trying to become friends with someone. Yes, I am talking to you random same college as myself attendee - not to mention opposing sorority member.

"Hey how are you? What have you been doing for the last 9 years?"

1. I'm fine. Really, really well. My mood took a dip when I thought I was going to actually have to write you back, but I've rebounded nicely from that little downturn.

2. Nine years? Way to rub in the fact that my Bids Day shirt is old enough to be a 5th grader and wearing lacrosse shorts makes me a slob - no longer sporty and cute. (BTW- hell yes, I'm still sporty and cute. The uniform has morphed slightly.)

3. We had four years to be friends. And as my parents stated when they dropped me off in August of my freshmen year, "If you don't do it in four years, it's no longer our problem." Followed by, "Call and let us know when graduation is, because that's when we'll be back." (Love you, Mom & Dad.)

At this point in my life I'm looking to unload a few friends, certainly not take on stragglers.

Do I look like Angelina Jolie?
Didn't think so.

So, in as much as I enjoy getting friend requests and the occasional profile photo update notification (why are people obsessed with putting partial face pics up?! We know what you look like - no need to get all artsy...) please don't try and forge a legitimate friendship with me through the equivalent of bumping into each other at the name tag table.

Thanks.
Mrs. News Readin'

We now return to our regularly scheduled program.

Gossip Girl goes Hardcover Historical

Lately, I have had a hankering for historical reading material - but with some flair.
I picked this up before our trip and am totally engrossed - the parties, the homes, the sex, the lies, the gossip...the jewels. It's way better than Page Six and Perez.



It's mildly amusing to read names like Rockefeller, Vanderbilt and Morgan used as examples of the nouveau riche. Greg King, gives great perspective to their fortuitous financial situations by providing 2008 numbers. (Could you spend $962,000 on clothing? I pride myself on my retail prowess and doubt I could do it without being hospitalized from exhaustion.)

He also gives the addresses of the incredible homes they built in New York. Amazing to know what still stands and has a new lease on life (Bergdorf Goodman) and what is sadly long gone.

If you are looking for the real-deal Waldorf's, this is for you...

Happy reading!

All the news that's fit to read

I'm not sure why I work. It's certainly not for the professional accolades and rewarding feeling at the end of the day. I can confidently say that it's not for the hefty paycheck I wave in the air as I haughtily enter the bank every two weeks. (Ha!) And nope, it's definitely not because I do something that changes lives.

Aaaaahhh...I remember. I work because things like a $48 monogrammed apron from France is considered a must-have and my dog and cat require extra play time while at Pet Day Care. It's also for days like this, when all that talk of PR being fun and glam goes silent. Note: none of this is fabricated embellished or exaggerated. Promise.

Before we left for California I was up to my neck in work. Impromptu client meetings were not on the agenda. But when the big boss tells me that a potential client is looking for some public relations work for a multi-million dollar business venture - the billable hours make this PR hound grab her dossier, pen, purse and head for the corporate park in the pouring rain.

Mind you I went to this meeting with very little info except for he is a brilliant (read crazy), inventor / entrepreneur who already has several highly successful business ventures. I entered his unremarkable office space and waited in a dark vestibule until someone boomed, "I bet you're looking for me."

The next thing I know I'm seated at a massive conference room table with the madman inventor, his marketing director, head scientific researcher and chief chemist. (Glad I wore my glasses for this crowd.) On a screen is a document entitled "Lab Announces Poo Prints."

Ummm...is this a joke? Oh, no. Not even close.

I proceed to read a 5-page press release on a dna bank completely driven by the idea that Home
Owner Associations will force residents to have their dog's "business" registered. That way if any "business" is found in public space it can couriered off to a lab and matched to the offender.

Wow. Hate to break it to you but, the domestic and overseas markets are hemorrhaging. People are losing thousands of dollars from their pensions every minute. The housing market is in the tank. And we are engaged in a war. And you think people are going to take the time to pick up someone else's dog s$#@ and mail it to a lab so that they can impose a $25 fine and list the offender, Daisy the dachshund and her parents in the quarterly newsletter??!!

This team proceeds to tell me how big the business is going to be and I'll need to put together a public relations plan of attack in 24 hours.

Riiighhhhht. Here's the deal - I don't know if I need to put together a PR campaign to tell you that your little venture will be picked up as the most ridiculous news story of the day, provide another sign of the Apocalypse and give the world another reason to laugh at Americans.

It took exactly 27 minutes to leave the meeting, return to the office and call our madman to let him know that it wasn't a good fit for us. (23 of those minutes were drive time.)

It took 29 minutes for me to call Mr. News Readin' and give him the scoop (no pun intended) on the burgeoning business. This could be a big story for local news...

More at 11.

Oh my stars.

Can we have a moment?

Ashley. Unscripted has given me my first blogger award.
All I have to say is - Honey, you are making me clutch my pearls. Thank you!

J'adore Ashley. As I have mentioned previously, she is the sole reason I am kinder and more discreet with my subscription-filler at Walgreen's. Not to mention - she's a freakin' hoot.

Here's the deal...one word answers to the questions below and then tag seven bloggers.
Here we go...

1. Where is your cell phone? Purse
2. Where is your significant other? Bed
3. Your hair color? Brown
4. Your mother? Saintly
5. Your father? Spirited
6. Your favorite thing? Morning
7. Your dream last night? Work
8. Your dream/goal? Content
9. The room you're in? Lobby
10. Your hobby? Reading
11. Your fear? Jellyfish
12. Where do you want to be in six years? New York
13. Where were you last night? Sonoma
14. What you’re not? Sweet
15. One of your wish list items? VintageCartier
16. Where you grew up? NY
17. The last thing you did? Newspaper
18. What are you wearing? Leggings
19. Your TV? Off
20. Your pet? DayCare
21. Your computer? LoveHate
22. Your mood? Happy
23. Missing someone? Putter&Pearl
24. Your car? Dirty
25. Something you’re not wearing? Socks
26. Favorite store? Henri Bendel (NYC)
27. Your summer? Short
28. Love someone? Deeply
29. Your favorite color? Coral
30. When is the last time you laughed? Hours
31. Last time you cried? Friday

If some of these seem a little off like, # 9, it's because I'm on an excursion in California with the adorable Mr. News Readin' and our fabulous friends Anne & Lee from Nashville. We do not have a Lobby in the News Readin' house. (Someday....)

Okay, I'm tagging these sensational seven bloggers:

1. Happy Homemaker because without her encouragement (harassment) there would be no blog o' mine
2. Pretty over at I Pick Pretty because she's wicked, fabulous and would make for an excellent partner in crime
3. The Mrs. from One Fabulous Mom who is so sweet and a joy to read
4. Mamacita who resides at What Would Jane Austen Do? simply because she's a must in my daily blog fix
5. Ned over at Peyton Place in light of her incredible, inspirational strength
6. SippyCups because she is the bomb! (Hope to see you next weekend...)
7. The Coterie - I'm pretty sure she doesn't indulge in the blogger award thing - but she is a must read for me and a shout out is required.

See y'all in few days...

Live from the West Coast,

Mrs. News Readin'

Not so much...

The Food Network ranks pretty high on mindless tv watching for me. Except when Rachael Ray is on...then Food Network becomes the most hated channel among the 851 we get. (Comcast, you kick ass!)

Rachael Ray drives me insane. The voice, the Oprah love fest, the talk show, the books, the Maxim spread, the Yum-o. All of it makes me want to cook 25 minute meals every night of the week out of pure scorn.

At a wedding a few years ago, we sat at a random table to enjoy the bride and groom's offerings from the mashed potato bar and their signature cocktail. (Say it with me...martini...you threw in some juice. Way to be original.) An older couple at the table started whispering back and forth and throwing their eyes my way. Did I have bacon bits on my face?

The wife leaned in, "Has anyone ever told you look like Rachael Ray?"

The husband chimed in, "You even sound like her!"

Oh, the rage. It was boiling over and Mr. News Readin' could see it and braced for a less than sweet response...through clenched teeth, "No, no one has ever told me that."

I am not Rachael Ray's doppelganger. We both have brown hair and brown eyes - that's it. AND my chest is double hers. (Like that's a difficult feat.)

Sooo...when I stumbled across this little nugget - well, you can imagine my reaction.

It wasn't one of despair.

W.W.B.W.W

What Would Brian Williams Wear?

As far as fashion forward anchormen go...Brian Williams was rockin' the purple power tie well before the rest and obviously is fond of the self-tanner. Yum.

W.W.B.W.W is the super fun game we play on Sundays around 2:30 pm. That's when Mr. News Readin' starts asking about a clean white shirt and what ties he should festoon to be everyone's favorite Sunday night anchorman.

I don't mind that he seeks counsel regarding his attire. I'm flattered he appreciates my keen eye for what will read well on camera...but I just wish he would not ask me while I'm:

1) Catching up on DVR'd Oprah
2) Catching up on blog reading
3) Window shopping on the interwebz
4) Planning our weekly menu (Old El Paso Gordita kit, Weight Watchers Key Lime Pie yogurt)

I remain stationary during the entire exchange and shout out suggestions, while Dr. Oz tells me that I'm rotting by body from the inside out because I don't take fish oil supplements. (Whatever. I prefer lobster.)

Which leads to the real issue...his tie cycle.

Make no mistake, Mr. News Readin' knows exactly when he last wore a tie. It's insane. I'll suggest (shout) the Ben Silver blue and gray tie and he'll say, "No, no, no...I wore that two weeks ago when I did the story on slowing fireworks sales."

"Mmm, that's right." (Inside voice: Who has two hours to work out - Gwyneth Paltrow?!)

This man keeps his ties in color order on a rotating rack. Once a tie is worn it moves to another rack and is worked back into the rotation in a timely fashion. Three weeks is the minimum gap between wears. In my estimation, he owns 100 to 150 ties. Seems excessive, but I guess if he played professional basketball I wouldn't care how many hi-tops he owned. (I especially wouldn't care if he had a $10 million deal with Reebok and his John Hancock on the shoe. Anchorman endorsed tie deals just don't seem to be as lucrative...)

The organization and cycle of the tie-wearing borders on an Israeli military operation. Take no prisoners and never deviate from the plan of action...It amazes me. This is the same man who doesn't understand that pulling the laundry out of the dryer and wadding it up in a basket is not the last step in the laundering process.

And to complicate matters, he has new school clothes en route. Just like you may have gone shopping for white polo shirts and khaki pants to outfit your little ones, the News Readin' Husband ordered three new suits for the school year. Semi-custom. Because that's how he rolls.

This presents a whole new set of W.W.B.W.W. moments...because it always goes back to our on-air fashion inspiration:


And while we're at it - shall we take stock of Mr. News Readin' and BW's similarities...

Luxe locks
Natural looking bronzer
Stellar styling (obvi...)
Good at reading the news

Oh, fair Brian...your days in that chair are numbered.

Sunday Morning Amusement

On Sundays, I love sitting down with a cup of coffee and leisurely going through the paper.
I try my best to read it cover to cover, but often times lose steam around page 3, main news. (The news sleeps next to me every night. I'm well informed.)

I'm really glad I made it through the whole thing a few Sundays ago...or else I would have missed this gem by Stephanie Hayes of the St. Petersburg Times.

Somebody get this girl a Pulitzer...

Fashion cleanup in aisle 3, please!
By Stephanie Hayes, St. Petersburg Times

The other night, I had a case of crankypantsitis. Students of science and medicine know there is one prescription: cookie dough, Diet Coke and DVD’s.

My guy and I hit Blockbuster, then a very nice Publix. Once inside, I trembled in fear. I witnessed people wearing the following items of, er, apparel:

• Four pairs pajama pants
• Three “muscle” shirts (six male armpits)
• One halter dress, exposing dingy frayed bra on verge of snapping to liberty
• Too many dirty flip-flops to comprehend
• One tube top, and therewith, zero bra
• One t-shirt reading, I kid you not, “Boone’s Farm Babe”
• One pair mesh basketball shorts paired with braided leather businessman loafers, as if to say, “Was too busy watching ‘West Wing’ to find proper pants, but dang, I really needed this Moose Tracks ice cream.”
• A partial nipple

When did the supermarket stop being a public place? Why does the pursuit of Pizza Rolls make reasonable folks dress like escapees from the Wacko Jacko Institute of Boudoir Wear? I know we’re tired. We work hard and pay taxes. We dash out last minute, because, WHO ATE ALL THE TOASTER STRUDEL?

I’m not suggesting evening gowns for the store, or even lipstick. But people still SEE you. It’s not a racquet-club steam room. For the love of all things holy, we’re dealing with open-air food here! THINK OF THE TOMATOES.

I implore you, fair nation. Take back clothes at the supermarket!
A vote for pants is a vote for change!
(Paid for by the National Coalition to Keep Pajamas in Bedrooms Inc.)

Amen.

Thirty-one years ago today...

Today I am officially a 31 year-old, northern grown, southern living, wife of an anchorman.

Damn. How did that happen? Just last week I was in my early twenties...

No fear. I was asked if I was still "in school" at the grocery store recently. I'm not sure if it was my youthful glow or my Nike running shorts, frat-tastic t-shirt ca. 1999 and hair piled on my head.

Probably the latter.

30 year-olds, and certainly 31 year-old women, do not dress like they are dashing off to chicken finger night at their university's dining hall. What can I say? I still rock (on occasion) my senior year formal t-shirt with pride...It reads: "Last time I had this much fun I got spanked," accompanied by a cartoon of a sorority girl paddling a frat boy. Nice. I'm all class.

On other fronts...this morning I started my routine at 6:05 am with coffee and decided since it is my birthday, I'm just going to lounge on the couch for a little bit. Mr. News Readin' (who usually sleeps until 7:45/8:00) poked his head in the den around 6:45 am to inquire as to when I was getting in the shower. Cute husband! He wanted to surprise me with Starbucks après showering on my birthday.

Life in a word is excellent. Amazing husband, caring family and friends, good job, awesome dog and cat, cute house, fab hair and no regrets. Not bad.

Now, if I could just add passenger rail service to and fro' work and friendship via Facebook with Tim Gunn - it would be perfection...a News Readin' Wife can dream, can't she?

More at 11.

Politically Motivated

While Mr. News Readin' is enthralled by the debates and listening to endless political commentary, I on the other hand, can't bear any of it. If he consumes six or more liquor drinks, he even starts talking about about someday running for public office.

(FYI...I signed up for small towns and the perks of local celebrity. Not yard signs and community forums. Ugh. Makes my teeth itch...)

So, if the mission is filling the last spot on the debate team - Mr. News Readin' is your guy. As for me and the inside voice...if you need to buy gifts for the debate team, give us a call.

I am a self-professed retail whore. I'll shop for anything, anytime. Looking for someone to talk you out of a purchase? Don't call me. No can do.

In honor of the hearty political season we're enjoying, thought I'd share some retail highlights - inspired when I went to order some gifts from Fishs Eddy and found the mugs below.

Although kitsch, I thought they were mildly amusing. (Who doesn't want to start their day with a cup of coffee in the company of Strom Thurmond and Newt Gingrich or RFK and Eleanor Roosevelt?!)

I went on the hunt for other politically inspired gifts - that are not t-shirts, really bad ties and cuff links. We should all be in the trash and trinkets business. These people are making a damn fortune off of crap.

Exhibit A: Presidential Nesting Dolls

'Nuf said.


But here are some things, that I thought, "Meh. Not bad."


Above referenced mugs from Fishs Eddy.



Convention shorts from Orvis. (Slightly out of season...)
Perfection in red and black for a seamless transition to gameday wear for Mr. News Readin'.

Hooked GOP or Democrat Donkey Pillow courtesy of Art & Artifact.




Do you think Mary Matalin and James Carville registered for these?



Pewter Democrat & Republican Salt & Pepper Shakers from Modern Artisans.






Definitely would make us look smarter just by hanging on the wall...
History of the Political Parties print from HistoryShots.








Every politically responsible tot should enjoy carrots in one of these.




Even Noteworthy has gotten in on the act...Republican or Democrat self-inking stamps.

So there is my contribution to all the political blather.

Maybe Mr. News Readin' running for office wouldn't be such a bad thing after all...think of the stationery needs alone!

Stay tuned.