Bon Voyage

We're off for a whirlwind trip to Spain for my childhood bestie's wedding.

Four days.
Seven pairs of shoes.
Six dresses.
A pound of jewelry.
A husband who knows ZERO Spanish.

And a new camera.

Oy.

Be back on Monday with a full report.

xoxo,
Mrs. News Readin'

Our New Addition

Calm down. The Mommy Mafia has not claimed me...yet.

We would like to take this opportunity to introduce you to the newest member of the News Readin' household - Simon.


Big Sister, Putter is still trying to figure out why we had to get another kitty.

I told her that instead of costing us money like her (open heart surgery, visits with a canine cardiologist, physical therapy for ligament damage, etc.) - he is earning his keep.

He's already killed two mice. Oh, and he's only four months old.

We are so proud!

xoxo,
Mrs. NR

"I carried a watermelon..."

If you are unfamiliar with this movie quote, then I recommend you scoot right along to the next post in your google reader queue.

For those reading this who are not communists and recognize the line that Baby utters to Johnny Castle at the after party in Dirty Dancing - we are meant to be friends. (Stick around. I give pretty good birthday gifts.)

"I carried a watermelon..." is exactly what I say when I find myself embarrassed by an item I may have blurted out for usually one of two reasons:

1) I've been over-served by a bartender or myself (more often than not it is by my own hand)
2) My Sweet & Thoughtful pills ran out and the real me shows up...gah. Hate those days.

We recently attended a very lovely 30th birthday party for a dear friend and member of our game night group. The sweet tea vodka flowed and I became a casualty of my own seemingly bottomless highball glass. The good news - I was sweet...not so much thoughtful.

There are five couples in our game night group. It's a well-balanced bunch. We've got a good thing going. No need to fiddle with the recipe. Right? Well, after four drinks this cook headed to the kitchen.

A very cute couple mentioned how they wanted to start their own game night group. I responded quickly - "Pish. We've done all the leg work...just to come to ours next month."

Fast forward an hour later- chatting with another couple, the Williams*, game night was again mentioned. And, I offered up an invitation to next month's gathering.
*Names have been changed to protect the boring and dis-invited.

Later on the nicest woman in our group (Daisy Troop leader, teaches Boot Camp every morning at 5 am, coaches her church's youth basketball league...you get it) asked, "Did I hear you invite the Williams to game night? They are terrible."

Ruh-roh.

So, I can only hope that they indulged in equal parts sweet tea vodka resulting in general alcohol induced memory fuzziness and will not be ringing the doorbell in a few weeks for our Connect Four Tournament.

Yet again - "I carried a watermelon..."

Mr. News Readin' let me know that if we are asked to leave the game night group he will formally protest and petition to retain his membership, but will accept my dismissal based on inappropriate conduct.

Thanks, dear. The support is overwhelming.

Stay tuned. More at 11.

**Edited to add: When I penned this - I had no idea it would coincide with the passing of Patrick Swayze. No one made dancing or the Catskills sexier and inspired millions to "try the lift."

Special Report: Size Denial

On a recent outing of the Breaking News Team to a local festival - I nearly went blind. After surveying the crowd, I decided we must live in a locale that is experiencing a severe shortage of mirrors. Although, not as life-as-we-know-it threatening as the dwindling water supply of metro-Atlanta, alarming nonetheless.

How could we have let this happen?!

Thank heavens I was wearing the biggest, darkest sunglasses my nose will support - otherwise I'm sure I would be writing this from the comforts of a hospital room with two black eyes and bruised ribs. What can I say? If ogling poor fashion choices were a sport, I would be Olympic.

Back to our special report...size denial is reaching epidemic proportions.

Main offenders:

Little Bags for Big Girls

In college, hippie girls wore them across their person to carry their well, patchouli oil and other sundry hippie girl supplies. You're an adult now and your little, itty, bitty handmade bag from Ecuador ain't cutting it. Additionally, the tiny shoulder bag stuffed to the gills with everything from an arsenal of lady products and your school coupon book needs to be retired. I know, I know..."But, everything fits in there..."

The bigger the bag, the smaller you look. So, size up.*

*Note: This of course does not apply to small, sleek and chic evening and envelope bags. So don't go sending any crazy comments about how you can't always carry a bag the size of a toddler. I know this - I just practice it in moderation.


The Seduction of the Smaller Size

My friend Catherine has fallen prey to this throughout her adult life. Regardless of how the garment fits - she will buy a size 4 because she cannot bear the idea of sizing up. Sadly, I have seen her split two pairs of pants and had the great misfortune of literally cutting her out of a Lilly skort. According to her it had a faulty zipper. Ummm...yeah.

Even though the smaller size fits, it doesn't mean its the right size. At the end of the day it is just a number. Jackie O wore everything one size bigger. For good reason.


Denim Gives

Good gracious is the greatest of myths! It seems that the 20 and under crowd are especially susceptible to the dread muffin top. Sure, those low slung jeans elongate your torso - but their restrictive sizing are also causing your flesh to spill over the belt loops.

For one- you cannot be comfortable! I want to unbutton my pants just looking at you. And sadly, you've paired your mis-sized denim with a form fitting t-shirt. Sweet. Baby. Jesus. What did we ever do to you?? Have you never heard of a babydoll top? Find one. Stat. At the very least...

One last thought on denim -if you think your bottom looks smaller without pockets - you are KIDDING yourself. Step away from pocket-less pants. PUH-lease.


This has been a special report - LIVE from my Perch of Perfection in the Breaking Newsroom.

We now return to your regularly scheduled program.

xoxo,

Mrs. News Readin'

And, we're back.

We experienced significant technical difficulties this past month in the Breaking Newsroom.

Frankly, I felt that rather than put out half-hearted content it would be best to take a breather, a moment to get my act together and regroup.

Oh, and I was busy organizing my dream closet.

*All images courtesy of HalogenLife.

*Sigh* I wish...

Love the Hermès boxes across the top shelves and the steamer trunk dresser.

If I had a Mr. Big - this is the closet he would build me.

Stay tuned. More at 11. (I promise...)

xoxo,
Mrs. News Readin'

Today

My thoughts about today remain the same today as they were one year ago and sadly - eight years ago. So, I am re-posting what I wrote one year ago today.

My heart still breaks when I think about the families that face marking another year without their loved ones. My heart breaks for this country that will never enjoy the same bliss of security. However, the strength of spirit and commitment to this country were never stronger then in the days immediately following September 11, 2001.

We should never let that wane - no matter how many years pass.

******
September 11, 2008

I wish today were just another day. I wish I didn't remember what I was doing seven years ago today. I wish I didn't know anyone who marks this day by going to a memorial service or visiting a place of final rest.

As an American and moreover a New Yorker - my heart breaks and tears well in my eyes when I think of the events of seven years ago and the services I attended following September 11, 2001. Listening to eulogies about amazing fathers, sons and friends who went to work like it was any other day.

For months afterwards, I would walk to work past St. Patrick's Cathedral and hear bagpipes and see firefighters or police officers lined up to pay honor to a fallen brother or sister in service. Groups of strangers would stand together in silence on nearby corners fighting back tears.

One of my dear friends lost her brother-in-law. Another friend lost his father and another - his brother. A girl I knew in high school lost her fiancé on one of the planes that hit the towers. A friend from college lost her dear friend, a flight attendant who picked up an extra flight when someone called in sick. My mother had a little boy in her preschool class whose father, a firefighter, stayed on after his shift finished - to go to the Towers.

It's not just another day. I do remember where I was and exactly what I was doing. And unfortunately, there are too many people attending memorial services and visiting places of final rest today.

Let us not forget this was not an accident or tragic natural disaster that robbed so many families and friends of just one more phone call, birthday party, Christmas morning, Thanksgiving dinner, goodnight kiss, births of children of grandchildren, weddings or just a funny email.

This was a deliberate, calculated and well orchestrated mass murder. We owe it to the families who lost so much seven years ago today, to never - never - never forget and seek justice against every last person involved, responsible or supportive of these acts.

But for today, here is a prayer that we can say for those who had so much taken from them on September 11, 2001:

An Irish Prayer in times of Sorrow

May you see God's light on the path ahead
When the road you walk is dark.
May you always hear,
Even in your hour of sorrow,
The gentle singing of the lark.
When times are hard may hardness
Never turn your heart to stone,
May you always remember
when the shadows fall—
You do not walk alone.