The Sky is Bigger Here

God's Chisel

And Your Point Is...?

David: I decided that 13 is my new lucky number.

Leta: I thought your lucky number was four?

Isaac: Yeah, isn't 13 an unlucky number for people who believe in luck? Which would be me...

David: Nah, not for me, since I'm so great.

Isaac: But is luck real? Or is it just a coincidence?

Leta: I think everything in life has a purpose.

David: Not me. Most of the things I do are pretty pointless.

     







      Except

      for

      maybe

      his

      hair.

And Your Point Is...?

David: I decided that 13 is my new lucky number.

Leta: I thought your lucky number was four?

Isaac: Yeah, isn't 13 an unlucky number for people who believe in luck? Which would be me...

David: Nah, not for me, since I'm so great.

Isaac: But is luck real? Or is it just a coincidence?

Leta: I think everything in life has a purpose.

David: Not me. Most of the things I do are pretty pointless.

     







      Except

      for

      maybe

      his

      hair.

He Da Man

I have somebody I'd like you to meet.

He has wavy brown hair...

 

...and gorgeous blue eyes.

 

His name is Stanley. Flat Stanley.

 

Flat Stanley loves to travel and try new things. He will be spending a few days with us here in New Mexico, where we will be photographing and journaling his adventures.

 

Would anybody else like a visit?*

*Cute little girl not included.

I Believe I Can Fly

I have been doing a lot of flying lately.

This is a new thing for me. I flew fairly often as a kid, but as an adult I became more than a little white knuckled over the whole endeavor. Like ridiculously strangling my traveling partner while clenching my teeth and squeezing my eyes shut as tightly as I could, simultaneously singing "La la la la la," at the top of my lungs to drown out the sound of the engine.

It was even worse once we actually got to the airport.

Obviously, and with the help of meds, I have mostly conquered my fears. I have been on exactly 12 airplanes this year, which as those of you with highly mathematical minds may have already figured out, is equal to one a month. Well, let me tell you, Mr./Mrs. smarty pants, it has been even more often, as the first one was in April and the last one was in October.

I need to stop before this turns into a story problem. The only thing I fear more than flying is a story problem.

My kids don't seem to have as much of an issue with this. Or maybe it's just the boldness and naivete of youth.

My older two have actually jumped. From a plane. While it was flying. Way up high in the sky.

Tyler at least has an excuse, what with being in the Air Force and his job being on a flying plane and all.

Ben, on the other hand... did it for fun. FUN!?!

I was sooo glad he didn't tell me about it until after the fact, because let me tell you, my hair is gray enough as it is.

But his rash act has inspired in my sweet innocent six-year-old a desire to follow in his footsteps. Or lack of footsteps, as there is nothing to step on as you are hurtling through the air at a bazillion feet an hour in a downward direction.

She even wrote a book about it.

Cats always land on their feet, doncha know. Parachute or not.

Falling Pumpkin Alert! Look out below!

 

This is all your fault, Ben. Ooh, look, there I am! I'm their mummy!

 

I am so not liking the gravestone on this page. Emarjense! Emarjense! Mummy is having a heart attack!

And she's sticking to it.

Just don't expect me to read this at bedtime.

It's Gonna Be A Bright Bright Sunshiny Day

I just want to say, "Thank you, New Jersey and Virginia! And even you, NY-23! You have restored my faith in the common sense and conservative values of the American people."

The mainstream media is saying this isn't a referendum on Obama, but I beg to differ. Obama campaigned for the Dems in New Jersey and Virginia several times, and they should have ridden easily on his magical coattails.

The Dem in NY? Obama didn't campaign for him... and he won.

Not by much, though. The white house is claiming victory there, but the Conservative, an unknown and painfully un-charismatic accountant named Doug Hoffman, entered the race a little more than a month ago and not only forced the ultraliberal Republican Scozzafava to drop out of the race, but he only lost by 4 percentage points.

And during the evening, as the results were coming in? Michelle took the First Girls to a Hannah Montana concert, and the prez stayed in watching an HBO special about himself.

Oh, I feel good.

Total Eclipse Of The Brain

I can't believe that three days in, I am KO'd by a huge muscle bound headache.

I'll have something decent tomorrow, I promise. In the meantime, enjoy:

And just in case you are too culturally sheltered to have any idea what this is about, here is the original.

Apples and Chocolate

And now, back to our story...

You left us at the end of this post thawing our poor little southwestern selves at one of Manhattan's 158 Starbucks. It was almost 2:30, so we decided to mush the sled dogs on over to Ben's place of employment a little early to wait for his shift to end.

 

Ain't it purty?? And the kid is kind of cute, too.

See the guy in the red jacket standing in the doorway?  He's a red Apple (employee). He had the highly refrigerated job of standing there and bagging customers' umbrellas as they walked in so as to keep the floors from lawsuit inducing puddles. Thoughtful, really. He was a very nice young man. Probably still is.

There is a glass staircase leading down into the store. The place is almost like Disneyland: overpriced fun, huge crowds, and employees dressed in character costumes (concierge, helpful salesperson, security, genius, etc.).

 

 

 

 

 

Do I seem a little obsessed with that staircase?

Sorry. I'll stop now.

 

 

 

A Ben in his natural habitat: an Apple Store.

 

Son actually introduced us to many of his fellow worker bees ("Thanks for the cookies, Mrs. Dickinson!"). We met various Brandons, Ryans and Francoises, and I'm fairly sure there were some Daves and Mikes as well. A veritable herd of high tech and very sweet male types. I commented to Ben about the testosterone level of the sample group of his friends, and he went back into the Genius cave, emerging about half an hour later with a small sample of the rare and elusive female friends. We had to be very still so as not to frighten them off. They were so cute.

When we were finally able to fight our way through the crowds and back up into the frigid air, we headed off for an early dinner. David and I were hungry at weird times due to screwed up body clocks.

We passed a huge candy store, the name of which escapes me at the moment...

...on the way to this place:

 

The restaurant definitely lives up to its name. Full of kitschy knickknacks and funky decor.

 

 

 

It was like being Alice in Wonderland, but without the Jabberwocky. At least, I didn't see any Jabberwockies while we were there.

I was going to show you portraits of our various dinner dishes, but I forgot to take the pictures until we were halfway through and the food was pretty well mangulated by then. So just picture adorable puffy chicken pot pie, a huge seafood crepe, and a pasta dish with vegetables and garlic sauce called Madame Butterfly.

Fortunately, I did remember to take pictures of dessert. Here it is on the menu:

Oops, sorry. The flash obscured that a bit. Here, let me turn that off.

That should do it.

 

Yes, that is a dessert reigning in the Guinness book of records as the world's most expensive sundae.

Sadly, we hadn't put in our 48 hours notice, so that was a non-starter.

Here's what we had instead, minus the mint.

 

Yes, Frozen Hot Chocolate. Awesome.

 

 

No wonder Marilyn Monroe liked eating there.

Gotta keep up the curves, ya know.

Before And After: The Halloween Edition

NaBloPoMo 2009

It's the most wonderful time of the year! 

And I ain't talkin' the holiday season either. You won't gain a pound or have to spend a dime (well, except for your interwebs connection). All cookies, pie and fudge will be virtual!

Yes, it's time for NaBloPoMo, and I will once again be participating in a month long daily assault on your eyeballs.

Brace youself, kids! No telling what will happen!