What I Wore Yesterday

This was one of those outfits that never really crossed my mind beforehand and in less than five minutes yesterday morning, I pulled it together. I can wear jeans to work. I usually opt not to because jeans aren't really my thing and I own only about four pairs. I'd rather really get dressed to go to work than wear what one would usually wear on weekends.

Here it goes: pink floral top is from Forever 21; the grey sweater is from Express (and I think I saw it in there the other day, I bought it last fall); the jeans are Blue Cult; and the bracelets are Forever 21 too.

Happy Halloween, I'll be hanging out with a birthday girl for her 30th!

6 Days and Counting...

If you don’t know, don’t you think you can do something about that?

One of my biggest pet peeves always comes into action around election time. Well, let’s make that a few of my pet peeves because there is more than one. It irks me when I hear of someone that doesn’t vote. But what really kills me are the reasons. Because lets face it, one of the bright sides of being human and living in this country is you get to do whatever you want to do without coercion. So, if you don’t want to participate, fine, I just think you should back it up with a good reason. I have yet, to hear a good reason for not voting.

Reasons that get under my skin:
I don’t care. How do you not care? Are you paying taxes? Do you have or plan to have children? Do you own a home? Work? Do you go to the doctor? Yeah, then you should care.

It doesn’t matter if I vote or not. Think about if everyone used that excuse and didn’t vote. Where would we be? Your small vote may not change the world or anything but a lot of small votes added up, do make a difference.

I don’t know enough information to vote. This one kills me. Then can you find out? Its hard not to know when its allover the news – even the tabloids and Marie Claire for goodness sakes. Find out what’s happening, sheesh!

It doesn’t really matter who is President, anyway. REALLY? You’re joking, right?

And the best excuse, I don’t know where to vote. A church, school, the post office – these places usually have signage that says in big, red, bold lettering, VOTE HERE.

Time After Time

I can’t believe it’s the end of October already. What the calendar?!

Well, let’s see the other night I went on my girl date with That Baby’s Mama. I really like her. She is funny and reminds me of what it would be like if I was besties with Rosie Perez. I am not kidding. Who wouldn’t want to be best friends with Rosie Perez? She’d always have you laughing and would kick anyone’s ass for you. That’s how That Baby Mama is plus she sounds kinda like her.

Since That Baby Mama is a cop, she has lots to say when she sees things on the street. It could be annoying but I keep telling myself, if I’m ever in a pickle…After the movie last night, we swung by Walgreens to pick up some pictures for her. Across from Walgreens is Albertsons and in that parking lot there looked to be some sort of car show with over twenty cars with their hoods up and oddly dressed men huddled about. It did look odd. Since I was riding with a cop, she just had to get nosy with it. There is never a day off for a cop. She called someone to check it out, which I didnt mind if we didn't have to stand out there scoping out the scene like a pair of stalkers.

Before all that, we saw Changeling. HOLY CRAP. I knew the story, I’ve seen the previews but that film was sad allover the place. It was pulling heartstrings left and right. Just when you thought it was over, it kept on going. It was really good. If you can take a very long movie at the theater, I recommend. And can we talk about the fashion? I want every outfit Angelina wore. Every dress, every shoe and every hat. I’ll even go as far to say that I would love to rock dark eye shadow and red lips everyday all day as well. I just love how the people dressed back in that day. Leaving the house was a to-do. Oh and speaking of house – I loved the house on set too. Gorgeous film and great story.

Since I was having a great time with That Baby Mama, I decided to give her boyfriend, CR1 another chance (more like his tenth chance, if anyone is counting) and try not to let his caveman idiocy affect me. I don’t know why and I am sure I just set myself up for disappointment later on. And I tried to ask her what it was she saw in him but it never took off. Oh well.

Go see Changeling.

31

Now that everyone has caught up and has turned 30, I have a a little over a month to enjoy the age with them before I turn 31.

Holy crap. Thirty-one. Why? I was fine for 30. Actually I was beyond fine, I was hella in it. I danced at every free moment that weekend. I am not kidding. I planned a pub crawl which ended with a midnight brunch. So me.

While I enjoyed being thirty, the creeping thought of 31 sat in my brain. This year I turn 31. Do I have to? Here we go, again.

I was the type that thought I’d be married with child by 30. Thirty seemed so old when I was twenty. Now, I have to squash my twenty year old’s self’s image of the future and tell her reality is here. There is no marriage and there are no babies. But there is love, life and happiness. Yah!

Turning 30 was dandy, I didn’t understand what all the hype was about. Sure, it’s a marker in life but it wasn’t traumatizing. Thirty-one will mark going over that hump. I’ll be on the other side. I am definitely no longer on the left side of the timeline. It sucks.

To honor it this year, we had planned a trip to Houston. God knows how I love to shop it up in Houston. And eat it up at Gravitas. Cowboy just learned that if he switches shifts (he may have to in order for his drills) he won’t be able to go.

Dang it. He was part of the reason for going. One of my good friend in Houston hasn’t met him yet and he has not yet experienced the greatness of Gravitas. I may be planning to turn thirty-one right here in Dallas. For some odd reason that sounds so boring to me. Same old Dallas. Same old me. Nothing new just another year. Only it’s my 31st.

The Enchiladas

To give credit where it is due, I found the enchilada recipe on one of my top ten favorite blogs, Shutterbean.
Go over, check her out and her new baby. Isn't he the cutest?

And here is the recipe, enjoy!

Tex Mex Enchiladas (makes 8 total)

Ingredients:

2 tablespoons olive oil
1/2 cup all purpose flour (spooned & leveled)
1 can (14.5 oz) reduced sodium chicken broth
1 1/2 tablespoons chili powder
1 small canned chipotle chili in adobo, minced-plus 1 tablespoon adobo sauce from can
1 small onion, finely chopped
2 garlic cloves, minced
3/4 lb. lean ground beef
Coarse salt & ground pepper
8 tortillas (6 inch)
1 1/2 cups shredded cheddar cheese (about 6 oz.)
1/4 cup cilantro
1. Make Sauce: In a medium saucepan, heat 1 ½ tablespoons oil over medium. Add flour and cook, whisking occasionally, 1 minute. Add broth, chili powder, chipotle and adobo sauce, and ¾ cup water; bring to a boil, whisking constantly. Reduce heat, and simmer until lightly thickened, about 10 minutes.

2. Make Filling: In a 10-inch nonstick skillet, heat remaining ½ tablespoon oil over medium-high. Add onion, garlic, and beef; season with salt and pepper. Cook, stirring, until cooked through, about 8 minutes.

3. Preheat oven to 350°. Spoon ¼ cup sauce in bottom of an 8-inch square baking dish. Set aside. Make enchiladas: Stack tortillas; wrap in foil, and warm in oven, 10 minutes. Fill each with a heaping ¼ cup beef mixture and 2 tablespoons cheese; tightly roll up.

4. Raise oven heat to 450°. Arrange enchiladas, seam side down, in baking dish. Top with remaining sauce; sprinkle with cheese. Bake, uncovered, until hot and bubbly, 15 to 20 minutes. Let cool 10 minutes before serving.

But You Are Skinny! (Bitch.)

My ears! I hate to hear that. I hate it so much. It may be the only thing I hate these days. It is.

There are certain things that I know I cannot say or complain about. Like not being able to fit into the size two pants at Banana Republic when I can get into a zero at the GAP. What gives there? But can I really complain, no.

I am skinny proud.

I am not going to lie about this. If you think you’ll be offended, stop reading right now. About five years ago, I was a size eight. Don’t gasp, if you know me. It is true. There is a picture in my friends kitchen to prove it. I want to throw it away every time I visit her. I didn’t stop dropping size until two years ago. Before that, I would fluctuate between an eight and a six. Back and forth. Up and down. Yo-yo.

I feel that everyone’s body was made to be a certain size and way. My body shape can be a size eight/six but it doesn’t look good, to me. Let’s take for instance, my boyfriend. You remember when I never thought he was chubby until I saw his pre-Iraq photo. It could be that I’m blinded by love but I never thought he had to lose any weight for his body shape. Now? Holy crap, I can see the inches burning off and yeah, he looks good. Better? That’s not for me to say. He looks good. I always thought he had.

That’s the other thing, I think everyone looks good. I wouldn’t change anything about anyone. I’m not the type to think any less for anyone bigger or tinier than me. If you’re happy with it, so am I. If you’re not – that’s you, not me. And please do not compare yourself to me because I’m happy with me and what I have and what you have. I will never think or tell you otherwise. I think the only time a comparison can come into play is when someone is doing exactly what I’m doing and maybe they are not getting the same results. To that, I will say – its not in God’s will. And maybe this is how your body is and will always be so why spend wasted precious life moments on trying to change it? Honestly, life is too short to be exercising everyday. Word.

I was never on a diet, it was just the way it happened. I didn’t exercise either. Exercise was so not me, then. And I was a size eight/six. I don’t think I was fat. What I do think is that I wasn’t fit for my body type. I’m also 5’5” and have a rather large chest and semi large ass. As a size eight/six it just all ran together. My middle was not defined and my thighs were big. This is not a bad self image, it was a true self image. That was my body. I was okay with it then. Now? Heck no. Why? Because I run, exercise and dance. I don’t really diet. Once and while I will do something diety and eat only green food for a week but that’s only when I feel like I want to be that healthy about it. But, this is it. I’m not skinny because I sit around.

This is not hereditary. True, my mom is thin too, but she wasn’t so much either a few years back. My point is, I am not naturally skinny. No way. No how. I used to be a size eight/six. I need people to remember that when they want to call out, “Skinny Bitch” my way. Or when they whine that it is so easy for me. No, its not. It’s really hard.

I wake up at 5:50am to run. Who does that? Crazy people like me, apparently. I could run after work. F that. The only thing I want to do after work is eat dinner and watch television. See, that, there – that’s me. Its also how I was a size eight/six.

I had to force myself out of bed so many mornings so that my body could get used to this. I had to defeat the voice inside me when I just didn’t want to. My will. I love my will. It took some time for me to adjust and I did. Thank you, will. When I was finished with that run, I had to talk myself out of falling back on a couch or bed to exercise or dance. Well, that’s how I got to dancing everyday. I had to find something that was fun. Fun exercise is the key. If you hate it, you won’t do it.

For a few days, I tried the South Beach non carb diet – I couldn’t do it. I love food too much. So I had to scale back from McDonald’s and Burger King and any Mexican food. It was rough. But my will made it all worth it. Now I can eat anywhere I want. Do I? No. I’ve cut fast food from my diet, a tough but great decision. I still love a hamburger but now get them from sit down establishments.

I dislike skinny bitch. Hate it. My boss said it to me one day and I gave her a look like she was crazy. What I hate more, is when I tell someone I ran this morning or I’m going to run this afternoon and their response is, “Why? You’re skinny!” Isn’t that the point?

W.T.F.

The dinner went great. I loved cooking dinner and hosting Cowboy's boss over at our home - which it finally felt like, now that we've hosted our very first dinner guest in our dining room ;)

We moved it to Sunday night and that gave me more time to double question the menu. When I get excited to do things like this, a million ideas cross my mind making the last great idea null and void.

I ixnayed the Halloween theme dinner and went Tex Mex. I made chipotle beef enchiladas, Spanish rice and black beans. We had chips and salsa and Riesling. I know, Riesling, right? CRAZY. I was the only one drinking so it was just fine by me.

Pre-dinner, Cowboy announced that CR1 would stop by to say hello to the boss. CR1 and Cowboy met while stationed together waaaaay back so CR1 knew the boss man as well. I didn’t mind if CR1 stopped by, he hadn’t seen the boss man in years, it was cool by me. I should have known better when it comes to CR1.

He was working too, so I told Cowboy to tell him that he should just stop over on his dinner break and that way he can eat some of the food I cooked while he is over. Great idea! Cowboy does so. Several minutes later the boss man appears and the three of us have a great dinner and conversations and I’m pretty much high on my hostess hat.

Then CR1 comes over. What’s the term? Wet Blanket. Debbie Downer. Yeah, any of those could apply.

CR1 enters, shakes hands with the boss man, then sits down in a chair and says nothing for about ten minutes. He is just sitting there watching TV. We try to include him the conversation by directing questions at him, where he just mumbled an answer back to us. Soon, our conversation became very minimal and the room had way too many silences in it.

Finally, I asked CR1 if he wanted me to fix him a plate of food. I’m such the gracious hostess. He declined and said he’d fix one himself in a few minutes. Then he asked Cowboy some questions about if he was off work Tuesday night. What I’m getting at is that CR1 said all of three words to his old military boss who he specifically came over to see. WTF?

Oh and all this while, while he is sitting there not speaking, he must’ve grabbed three man-handfuls of candy corn from our Halloween candy jar. After that, he asked me if I made any dessert. Again, WTF?

At this point, I decide Riesling is going to get me through this one and just as I’m enjoying the drink, CR1 says how he searched for houses in the neighborhood we were checking out to buy a house in! And then says, “There are no houses under $200,000 in that area”. Oh, hell to the motherfucking no.

I gave Cowboy that look and then corrected CR1 and said, “there are some but you have to really look” and “Are you looking for a house over there?” CR1 said no, he wasn’t (Glory be to God) and that if he were to buy a house, he’d buy it in Timbuktu, Dallas (Thank you, Jesus).

Buuuut, then why was he looking at houses in the area we were checking out? It hit me! He is double checking on us.

I dislike it when people do that. I really do. You know the type. You tell them you found such a great deal on something and they have to go scope it out for themselves with no intention of purchasing said item – they just have to double check what you said. Grrr.

But this is CR1 and I don’t expect any less of him. Moving on, he is ready for dinner and starts to help himself. He put on his plate, two helpings of each item. The plate was packed in like CR1 hadn’t eaten in days. He eats, says nothing the entire time, clears his plate – mind you he ate about a third of what he took(!), says goodbye and leaves.

Who does this?

He specifically came over to say hello (literally) to his old boss, says all of three sentences to us and leaves. What was the boss man thinking of this scenario?

In other news, earlier that day, I accepted a movie date with CR1’s girlfriend, That Baby’s Mama to go watch Changeling. I’m seriously thinking of some changeling for her and getting down to how and why she is dating that caveman idiot!

True Television

Time to talk TV again. My good shows ended. Tootles Rachel Zoe and Project Runway. I’ll miss ya!

With them gone, I have a few shows that I’m tuning into religiously. First up – True Blood. Holy crap. This show is the bomb. I am not lying. I didn’t expect Sookie to sleep with Bill so early in the series. I was expecting that in a later season. But, sheesh, was that hot or what? I’m so happy this is on HBO so it can get away with what it does. I’m calling it, Sam is a werewolf. Cowboy first said this to me and I shut the idea down. Then we see Sam running nude in the woods. Add that to the barking and crazy sheet smelling – I am now thinking werewolf. I also think he is the killer but he doesn’t know it. Maybe when he goes wolf, his human brain goes into a coma state, so Sam may not even know he is a werewolf and that he is killing people left and right. That’s my theory. And Tara! Girl always has the best storyline and funniest shit to say. The exorcism, her mom and the possum! Excellent TV.

I’ll admit last week’s Ugly Betty was the best one yet. Maybe because I could relate. Who didn’t want to just be friends with the cool popular girl in school? And I love Lindsay Lohan playing a Mean Girl once again. There’s not much to say about this show. Its pure entertainment for me and it has yet to fail me. I want to be BFF with Betty and Marc – is that possible? Can I be both of their friends if I worked at Mode?

Next up is Grey’s Anatomy. Sheesh. I really want to stop watching this show but right when I start to say that – they bust out with “The Sloan Method” and the hot Army doc is back. How can I not tune in this week? I will say this, I am so over Derek. He’s cute but if he pulled that non credit giving crap with me, he’d be back in his trailer. Done.

Still Talking About B-More

I don’t even know how to tell you this one. I was sitting in the hotel lobby waiting for my boss. It was 9:00 AM Eastern time. The guy next to me, who looked rather normal, struck up a conversation with me. He asked me where I was from. I said “Texas”. He replied, “That makes you a chocolate taco”

I thought about it for a minute…Ew.

In other news, I seriously need to pick up running twice a day, starting tomorrow.

I’ve done nothing but eat like there is no tomorrow while in Baltimore. Shrimp & Champagne Fettuccine dinner which included grilled shrimp in a white champagne sauce over fettuccine pasta. Surf & Turf Hamburger for lunch, which included the juiciest hamburger topped with grilled shrimp and smothered by a spicy aioli on foccacia bread. I shouldn’t forget the side order of sweet potato fries. Then there was the countless M&Ms. That night ended with one of the best curry chicken & lo mein bowl ever had.

So, as you can read, I need to just stop. I’m already kicking myself in the butt that I didn’t take workout clothes with me to Baltimore.

And let’s discuss this – Who thinks that airport wireless internet should be free? For serious, it’s wireless, it’s just floating around. Why do I have to pay for that? If your laptop is already wireless wired and you have it with you traveling, don’t you think that’s cost enough? Nope. They are asking for $6.95 for an hour of internet!! Sheesh.

What I Wore Two Days Ago

I love people watching. I’d do it as a part time job if I could. I’ll admit I do it for the fashion. I don’t watch the people in the non cute outfits. It’s the well put together gal, man or couple walking past me that catches my attention. Sometimes, it becomes a quick jealousy. Why couldn’t I look as put together as she does? You feeling me here? There is always some cute girl somewhere looking like she effortlessly put together her outfit and there isn’t a crease on her anywhere. I people watch that girl.

I used to be an active member of Style Diary. I got the bug from a fellow Vivster (shout out to Lil Brownie) many years ago. Style Diary was the ultimate people watching online until I discovered Sart. The Sartorialist is the website for people watching and outfit scouting. I can lose half a day browsing fashionista blogs.

The point here is that I used to be heavily active on Style Diary. A lot of the original members have quit and that’s why I haven’t been on at all lately. It’s lost its pull for me.

I still love putting together outfits – so why not use my blog? Yep, that’s right. I’m going to randomly post outfits here from time to time. Today we start off with what I wore on that dreaded flight back to Dallas a few days ago.

In the above photo I’m wearing a red dress from Banana Republic, a black double clasp belt from Charlotte Russe, a tweed jacket from Target and Nine West boots.

**No worries, I'm working on how to get a better picture. This one was taken at 1:30am when I got home that night, so the lighting was horrible.

Boo!

Last night Cowboy told me that we would be having his commanding officer over for dinner Saturday night. In non military speak, his boss is coming over for dinner. Cowboy asked me if I wouldn’t mind cooking dinner for the visit. HALT!

What does this sound like to you? The first thing that came to my mind was that I was the hospitable housewife that needed to cook dinner for my husband’s boss. Should I wear my big circle skirt, too?

Actually, I’m a wee bit excited. We haven’t had any real company. And I did re-do our dining room. The company we usually get are our friends. Mostly his since most of mine live out of the city.

Point is, cute hostess stuff that I do is never appreciated or noticed by our crowd. I have an example for each and every time. Once, I had my college roomie over for dinner. I made enchiladas and margaritas. Naturally, I busted out my margarita glassware because isn’t that what you drink a margarita out of? She called it fancy. Another time CR1 and That Baby’s Mama were over, it was a quick unplanned visit that turned into a long one; so halfway into it, I whipped out my chip and dip serving tray and cut up a meat and cheese spread. Oh my word, they called me ‘Martha Stewart’.

That’s the thing. I feel like they were making fun of me. Why? Because I had a chip and dip plate specifically designed for chips and dip. On top of that I had a meat and cheese platter, with oh gosh, cheese knives! I’m not trying to show off. Its just how I am.

Or how I was raised. My mom would always take out the specific use serving ware and glassware for company. She’d make sure that I helped serve our guests, too. You can’t visit our place without me asking if you would like a drink. I’m a natural hostess. I also started to create hostess baskets for overnight visitors. We’ve only had one planned visit since.

It’s our friends reactions that knock me down. I’m acting fancy or snobby. How so? Cowboy thinks I’m too cute. I thought about it and I honestly think it’s the crowd of friends we’re hosting. They are either too young, immature or ignorant. They just don’t know the difference between a pasta serving bowl or cookie platter. And that’s okay. I just wonder why I get made fun of as the result? I feel that some must be laughing behind my back - Look, at silly Golighty, she has to do everything just so.

I'm sorry I just can't be so. I can't call it a party and just throw salsa and chips on a table. Life is fun. Why can't it be fun if you are over at our house for an hour or so? I can get a boring bowl of nacho chips at restaurant. At my house, you can have nacho chips in a cute sombrero style bowl. It's no trouble, really. I already own the bowl. What good is it if it just sits in a cupboard?

I refuse to stop being a hostess. It kills me. I see cute dinner party ideas or hosting activities and I want to try them out. Problem is you cannot try them out alone or just with the two of us. Cowboy gets it daily. I try to make everything cute with the two of us but we don’t bust out the chips and dip tray when we’re snacking, just us two.

Yes, I’m excited for the Boss to come over. I want to make a good impression – not for me, but for Cowboy. I’m his woman. No matter how old fashioned it sounds, I want to be the good hostess for him. I think its important.

Last night I toiled over what we would have for dinner. And the Halloween dinner that I’ve had in my head for months had to be the choice. We’re not going to go crazy with it. Think those ghost mashed potatoes Martha Stewart whipped up and the spooky Halloween themed wine in the stores. Classic dinner with a Halloween twist.

I’m happy to host – no matter how 1950’s or silly it sounds.

Et Tu, Southwest?

Southwest Airlines has never let me down. Ever.

Sure, there has been the occasional flight delay but in all my experience they’ve been weather related and SWA cannot control the weather, so we were on an all good relationship. Until last night. And I’m not even sure I can complain, but I’m going to blog it out. So, there.

I got to BWI airport an hour and a half before the flight was scheduled to take off. My position in line was A32. Normally that means I’m the 32nd person to board the plane. Not last night. Last night I was the 69th person to board an hour after scheduled take off.

While sitting at the gate, the SWA desk attendant made a very loud announcement that our flight would include 37 WWII Veterans. She went on to say that they would appreciate it if we allowed them to board first. I didn’t see anyone take a vote…she continued to thank us, seriously, we had no say, so I didn’t understand. Oh, well. Until I saw the 37 men. 37 WWII Veterans meant 37 wheelchairs. I kid you not. Which meant an hour for them to board. And while they were boarding the president of the group decided to get on the PA and tell the rest of us a story about their annual trip to their monument in D.C. Seriously. He talked for about half an hour.

Our 7:25 scheduled flight, didn’t take off until 8:30pm. The good news was, according to the flight attendant, that since us passengers allowed the veterans to board first when we stop in St. Louis, they are willing to depart the plane last. Yah? While on the plane, the veterans had lots to do to educate the rest of us passengers about WWII.

I’m all for history, don’t get me wrong, I am. And I’m all for a war vet. Seriously. Just not on my flight that took off an hour late. At night. One of the activities was having a few veterans say some words/war stories on the PA system. This was quite a task as some veterans, as you can imagine, took forever. I thought it would never be over.

Yes – I tried to drown it out by busting out my portable DVD player and watching SATC-The Movie. Buuut you’d never guess the veterans were hella loud on that PA. You know old folks, they think they have to yell into technology. And then, the darn DVD player lost its battery charge. I was forced to listen.

After the war story part of the trip, they moved on to mail call. This time a SWA attendant took over the PA portion but the yelling remained – I guess she needed the vets to hear her. Here’s the deal – each vet’s living family members write them a letter for their trip, but they use the mail call just as if we were back in war times.

For each veteran’s mail, the attendant would call out, “Private Brown. US Marine Corps. 38th Batillion. 3rd Guard unit. 2nd man from the left” obviously I made that up, but it was seriously that long of a title for EACH veteran. All 37 of them. If they didn’t hear their name, she read it off again – same way. I couldn’t wait for St. Louis.

The same way it took them an hour to board, it took them an hour to deplane. My flight is now two hours behind. I landed in Dallas at 12:50 when I was supposed to get in at 10:30pm.

Now, I expect this sort of thing from American Airlines, not my beloved Southwest. I just think the veterans needed their own plane. Or should travel during the daytime.

Something.

Caught!

What do you do when your boss or some higher up totally catches you reading blogs instead of working? Ignore whatever is on your screen? Quickly minimize the window? Strategically stand or sit in front of your monitor hoping that they don’t notice? What do you do? Today I got caught twice by the same person. The first time I was reading a fashion blog. The second time, a wedding blog. Shame on me. But it was Monday, what heck was I to do? Work? My weekend was too good to work.

Let’s see, we had NKOTB Friday night. For those of you too young to know, that’s New Kids on the Block. They put on a totally rad show. I seriously felt like I was eleven years old in my thirty year old body. We had a blast. They played all the old favorites and the newbies. If they coming to a town near you and you are old enough to appreciate, go see them! It won’t disappoint.

Saturday – you’d be so proud of moi – we played Bar Golf in honor of the 3oth Birthday. I made it to the eighth hole! That means I succeeded the shots and dirty martini like a champ. I have to admit we had the best deal: a designated driver who didn’t know the birthday girl or most of her friends and still drove our drunk butts around town to nine bars (and most of the bars were not close to each other, so he did plenty of driving); the coolest bar golfing outfits worn by all and no drunken mishaps. Whoot whoo.

Sunday we lazed about and Cowboy survived a weekend without me. I worry when I leave him alone. I know he is perfectly capable of taking care of himself and finding his own dinner and entertainment. But part of me gets sad that he has to do it alone. I wonder what he ate, how he is doing, what he is doing constantly when away. Not being nosy or distrusting just worrying for my baby.

Tomorrow, I’m off to Baltimore. YES. I’ve never been as an adult, so I’m looking forward to it. Cold fall weather. Good food. Hello, crab cakes! What more could you ask for a mid-week trip?

And because it was hilarious and I’ve watched it a billion times…Get Yo Hands Up!

For Southern Yankee

The meatloaf was a hit. I basically made up the recipe in my head because I couldn't find one that included barbecue sauce. Barbecue sauce is Cowboy's favorite condiment next to ranch dressing. Enjoy!

Turkey Meatloaf

1 lb of ground turkey
1 diced onion
1 clove minced garlic
1 cup breadcrumbs, I used Italian style
1/3 cup chopped parsley, the flat parsley. I bet you can use dried flakes too.
1 egg beaten
1 tsp Worcestershire sauce
1/4 cup barbecue sauce, plus some more
salt and pepper

Since Cowboy despises raw onions, I saute the onion and garlic first until the onion is looks clear. Pre-heat oven to 400 degrees.
Mix everything in a bowl - with your hands if you are really into it. Since its meatloaf I think you should be really into it.
Mold and form the mixture into a loaf shape on a lightly oiled baking sheet with high sides, I think about an inch is good.
Bake for 50 minutes
Pour some more, to your liking, barbecue sauce on top of the loaf.
Bake for five - ten more minutes.
Remove meatloaf from the oven and let it rest for around ten minutes.

Enjoy!

House Hunting

Compromise is a biatch. Since we talk a lot, Cowboy and I learn something new every day about each other. Since we are scouting out neighborhoods for future house purchasing, its been a constant learning situation on what we both like and look forward to in the future.

My boyfriend wants a yard. Plain and simple. I was pushing really hard for a loft or a townhome - either one is more like me. Then a financial advisor came in and told us that buying a house looks better to the banks. Oh, crapola. So I’ve switched sides but you better believe I did so with a compromise.

In said house, I don’t want two floors. I just don’t like the idea of being split up and I’m thinking of those nights where Cowboy may be away and that means me in house alone. I know me and I will be too scared thinking of what may be happening on the other floor. Also, I want a deck or patio. I envision brunches, lunches and dinners outside.

I had some other requests but had to hold those back for when I need to give something else up. That’s how it works when you play Compromise. Its not that nice, I’ll admit. I have a few things in my back pocket that I’m only willing to unveil when I need to. Ha.

The other situation about this is location, I’m an adamant Dallas Proper gal. I didn’t want to know of anything existing above Highway 635. No way. Then he tricked me and showed me some cute new.shopping center. I am a sucker for cute shopping. Now, we’re including ‘hoods in faraway lands north of Dallas.

I had to put my foot down and declare, “anything but Plano” and then I pulled out one of my compromising cards. See, how that works? I love it and him.

I just love how he is putting all his thinking energy into researching house buying items. It’s a whole other world with its own language and laws and I look so lost and confused when people start talking equity, interest, property tax, blah, blah.

I leave it all up to him. Just until I need to pull out a card.

Ick!

If I weren’t in this relationship, I’d think we were disgusting.

The other night Cowboy turned to me and asked me if I thought we babied each other too much? WTF? Then he gave all these examples and shoot, we do baby each other, a lot. Isn’t that kind of the idea? Take care of one another? I admit there are times where I probably have gone a wee bit overboard.

Example: I pack his lunches. He never asked me to do it, just one morning I did and then the next and the next. Before he went back to work, everyday I asked him what he had for lunch. I like to know he is taken care of. Is that wrong? And he tucks me in at night. Cowboy goes to bed way later than my midnight cut off. When I hit sleep time, he waits for me to climb into bed and tucks me in. Sickening, isn’t it?

If I hear him knock into a wall – oh crap – when he hears me knock into a wall, he always runs over to make sure I’m okay. I know yelp out “ow” no matter what I hit or where. I hit my thigh on my car door yesterday and said, “ow” hoping Cowboy would be right there. No, he was at work. We ask each other all the time if the other is comfortable, too hot or cold? Let me get you a blanket.

I folded socks and put them in neat little rows in his drawer. I cook his favorite foods. I ironed his first day back to work shirt and made sure his outfit was fabulous. He toasts bread for me every morning. He picks up items when I drop them. Last time, I checked my knees still work.

I would hate to be around us. For serious. And then there is the talking.

We talk all the time. We talk when I’m cooking; when we’re eating; watching television; brushing our teeth; before bed; while running; during sex; in the shower and while we’re at work we email constantly. We’re in constant communication with each other. I’m shocked I get a word in with my friends. Have I spoken to you lately? If not, its because I’m chatting away with Cowboy and I do apologize. I’ll admit I was so worried that once he came back things would be at a dull. I was wrong.

Every night he has us doing something. Monday night we went and saw Apaloosa. Oh, we need a time out to discuss. Apaloosa. I love Ed Harris. I love Viggo Mortenson. I have seen the previews at every commercial break. I thought I knew what the movie was about and all that was in it. I knew Jeremy Irons was in it and looking, dare I say, hot? He was! During the film I just couldn’t get Scar’s voice out of my head. What I did not know about Apaloosa was Renee Zellwegger. Her face isn’t in any of the previews or trailers I’ve seen and she is the main plot. If you call it a plot. Take this warning: I fell asleep midway in the film. Go see and we can discuss because I just didn’t get Renee at all in this role. Or her relationship with Ed Harris.

Back to Cowboy and I’s sickening relationship…we do stuff every night. Last night was ‘Lady in the Water Night’ – we got into a big discussion about M. Night films (I wont even attempt to spell his last name, you know who I’m talking about) and turns out Cowboy has never seen Lady. I know a lot of people didn’t like it, but it is in my top three of M. Night films. Yes. I’m weird with film. So Cowboy declared we watch it – after the Project Runway finale. And I made his favorite, turkey meatloaf & smashed potatoes. Of course!

I Got Your Crazy

I knew it was coming and it would be great. Crap. It's better than great. It's fantabulous. Welcome back...



P.S. I'm running six miles tomorrow. Do you see her body? Yeah...uhm...huh.

Thirty. Flirty. Wordy.

Everyone is Turning Thirty! It’s birthday season around here again. That means some travel and lots of partying. Lots of.

Last weekend That Baby’s Mama turned thirty. CR1 planned the entire shindig – which believe me was a shocker. He’d been calling us all week to make sure he was doing this and that and asking for receommendations. When we arrived, I had to give him major points. There was a full spread of food (way too much), margarita machine, a keg, three cakes and a dessert bar to rival any wedding candy bar. We had way too much fun.

Cowboy and I both had to watch the TX/OU game while nursing our hangovers and then later that night we watched AP’s little girl while she attended a wedding. AP nor her little girl are turning thirty buuut this just has to be said, her baby is the darndest cutest thing, ever. She says, ‘thank you’ for everything – granted, it does sound like, ‘dank ew’, but still the cutest thing ever. I so appreciated spending time with both of them. It made miss our old days together madly.

And speaking of missing people, I wish I was near Bev as she turned thirty on Monday. When she lived in San Antonio, it always worked out that I was in town around her birthday date. This year, so many things have changed and she is in Pecos, but no matter what, she still turned thirty!

This upcoming weekend we have another flirty turning thirty. I’m going to San Antonio for this one. First, we are going to the New Kids on the Block concert. Holla. I’m so excited. NKOTB was my very first concert and I was in 5th grade. We lived in upstate New York in a very small town and the concert was in Canada. I thought I was so cool. I was leaving my parents for the night and going with my neighbor – who was my very best friend do or die and I have no idea where she is nowadays. So, with that said, I’ll be one of those screaming women reliving my youth when Hangin’ Tough busts out.

The next night the birthday girl is planning a beer golf celebration. OK – I suck at beer golf especially when told what drinks to drink to score. I am not a heavy liquor drinker. I cannot do strong drinks like gin and tonic, martini or rum and coke. I just can’t. I’m a fruity drinks gal. I can drink margaritas or mojitos all night long. Anything else doesn’t taste good to me at all or has me sick the next morning. Add to that – I don’t ever do shots. Anymore. My body just cannot hang, I’m weak, I know. But guess what? I’m thirty and that’s what happened to me: low drink tolerance. I say this now and I could very well be the one who wins.

Halloween weekend, V turns thirty. Her birthday is on Halloween. In celebration they are having a spooky Halloween party where you have to dress up in costume. I have no idea what to be this year. Cowboy suggested I go as Rachel Zoe – which would be funny but the crowd is not so much on top of that, so the comedy would be lost and no one would get it. I kinda want to do Flashdance again this year. I did that costume four years ago – can you redo a previous Halloween costume?

I have no ideas – anyone, help?

Oh Yes!

I've set a reminder on my Outlook, Google and Blackberry calendars. This will not be missed.

It's Britney, Bitch.

• MTV
• Music Videos
• MTV Shows
• Entertainment News

I Heart Egg Salad Sandwiches

If you like egg salad sandwiches and I do, this is for you. Lately, I’ve seen that recipe sharing chain email land in my inbox at least twice a month. Do you know the one? Where you have to share a recipe, move your name to the #2 spot and send to all your friends. If it works, you should receive at least ten recipes. I rarely get two from each time I participate and I always participate. I’m the one who always sends out the best egg salad sandwich recipe ever. Ever. It's so good, whoever random person gets my recipe always replies back to me.

I thought why am I holding onto to this gem just for that chain email when I can share it with the internets? And its been way too long since I’ve posted a recipe on here. Plus, I’ve had this every day I’ve brought in my lunch to work for the past two weeks. Its that good. Enjoy.

First, it's all about the hard boiled egg. I despise the grey skin on an overcooked boiled egg, so here is how to boil an egg perfectly minus the grey stuff. Put however many eggs you are using (I use six eggs for a week’s worth of sandwiches, one sandwich for five days) in your pot and fill the pot with water just so that it covers the eggs. Heat until the water is rapidly boiling. Then take off the burner and set your kitchen timer for seven minutes. Once the time is finished, place all your eggs into a bowl of ice and water for about a minute. Peel your eggs. There you have it. (This makes for a great healthy snack, if you want to stop here and just store your eggs in an airtight container in your fridge)

Now on to the salad part of this recipe. Place all your peeled eggs in a bowl – your eggs should still be whole, do not chop them up. Then add mayo (I use the new olive oil may from Kraft) and mustard. I don’t measure. It just depends on what ratio you like, more mayo, less mustard, more mustard, less mayo. You can figure this out. I do two tablespoons of mayo and about one tablespoon of mustard. Add in one tablespoon of chopped fresh dill. Add about two teaspoons of paprika. Salt and pepper.

Now for the fun stuff – grab a potato masher and mash those egss with your ingredients. Trust on this one. It gives you nice egg chunks and not the typical mashed potato mush looking egg salad. Picture a very rustic egg salad. I place mine on toasted seven whole grains bread.

Yumm.

Awarded!

Southern Yankee has awarded me my very first blogging award. I’m ecstatic. Thank you so much Southern Yankee.

In acceptance I must list six things that make me happy: Everything Cowboy, dancing every day, brunch, running just a little bit further than I did yesterday, a really great conversation that I never want to end with wonderful friends, and not to sound too Rachel Zoe about things: my closet.

I’m passing the award on to Bev, Blind as a Bat Beth, Swishy, Texas Cinderella, Jacki’s Spilling the Happy Cup and Nanette. All my daily reads, where I could never make it through a day without checking on any of you and left me the best comments of support during those four months ;)

Unagi

There is a small hallway between our bedroom and the bathroom. Every once and awhile I do find the need to wake up and use the bathroom in the middle of the night. I call it ‘Pee Happy’ moments.

When it happens, it’s usually around three o’clock in the morning, I use the bathroom and crawl back into bed and for some odd one it is the best feeling of sleep ever for me. Crawling into a warm bed, knowing you have about three more hours of sleep (unless I can’t get back to sleep) is one of my favorite feelings. I dub them pee happy moments. Last night one of us was not happy.

I knew it was going to be a slight readjustment getting used to someone else being in the house with me. There have been moments where I’ll find my mindset back to those dreaded four months. It usually happens when I’m so engrossed in television or a project that I forget Cowboy is even in the house with me. Other times it happens when he is out of the house and its just me, alone.

I never been to a self defense class nor do I think I can really kick someone’s ass if I had to. I’m weak like that. I talk a big game that I want to kick someone but I don’t walk what I talk. I have a pepper sprayer somewhere, my mom would gasp if she knew it wasn’t on my keychain and that I have no idea where it is. We don’t have a gun in our house (NO WAY!) and I don’t sleep with knives underneath my pillow. My defense plan if anyone were to attack me is pretty much scream, kick and run. What’s your defense plan?

Little did I know that when faced with defending yourself, your body can surprise you what its capable of…We sleep with the window shades (and sometimes the windows) open so there is a lof of street light that beams into our apartment at night. This creates all sorts of shapes in our apartment. I cannot even begin to tell you how many times I’ve thought that our tall lamp was a person standing in the darkness. I seriously have to stealthily walk up to it and push it to know its still the lamp. My point is the steet light beaming in makes it difficult to differentiate things, add the fact that this incident took place during a usual pee happy moment, I was not fully awake.

I woke up, went to the restroom, finished and when I opened the door, there in the hallway in front of me was a man. Foggy, half asleep my body went into defense mode. I hyah-kicked him in the chest and then slapped him on top of his head.

Yes, it was Cowboy. Poor thing. My excuse is he was just standing there waiting his turn to get some pee happy himself and my poor (GREAT) mind went into attack mode. He should be proud that I am so aware and can defend myself if needed. He shouldn’t have just been standing there in the darkness. After mending him – it was quite the blow as I’m proud of my strong runner’s legs, I crawled back into bed, very pee happy.

Unagi.

Hot Thing

This past Saturday, Cowboy’s old roomie (the one that is a girl) came over with her 5 month old baby. She's white and her baby daddy is black, all I can say, is this baby is the cutest ever. She is a mixed baby with blue eyes - it is so super cute.

This was her first time seeing Cowboy since he had been back from Iraq. Her immediate reaction to me was, “Look how hot he’s gotten!” Wha – huh?!

Let me back it up to a week before this incident when Cowboy was feeling down in the dumps and having huge body issues. He went on and on about how it really bothered him that he lost 23 pounds but not him or anyone could really tell. Twenty-three pounds is a lot but I’m not going to lie, I thought he could stand to lose it. Remember, all those fast food places we ate at right before he left? When he thought he’d never see the likes of McDonald’s again. Uhm hmm.

I was one of those people that could not tell just by looking at him, fully clothed. Naked – I could tell. His body was more ripped and defined. I likey. Cowboy had a huge moment and decided that pity day would be the first day he really bucked up and lost weight.

Then he started running with me and oddly enough, we both lost weight on vacation, I have no idea what that’s about. And I implanted my 4 months without fast food onto him and we’re both going to 2009 without McDonald’s (he had to draw the line somewhere). But let’s be clear: my boyfriend was not fat, he just had some oomph he could get rid of. With his body type and the way he carried himself, you’d think losing 23 pounds would make him look like Mary Kate Olson.

That’s just the thing about weight. I’m 126 pounds and so feel that I look like I’m still135 pounds because when I first learned I weighed 135 pounds (a very very long time ago) the friend that was with me witnessing this told me that her very skinny sister was also 135 pounds. Still, I thought it was a lot, no matter how it looked on me and got rid of it. I guess that’s how Cowboy was.

The night his ex-roomie came over and exclaimed his hotness, I was puzzled. Really? He didn’t look that much different to me right then and there fully clothed. Then she busted out her camera and showed us a picture of him, three days before he left. HOLY F.

My boyfriend is a piece of hot ass! The before Iraq picture was unbelievable. Cowboy and I stared at it for a good minute or two. I couldn’t believe that the chubby person in the frame was him. And I always have thought he was hot. No matter what.

Now? Now. He is a hot 100. (100 is the term I use for hotties) I need to desperately find a picture of me from four months ago. I wonder what the difference looks like before and after all this running, dieting and dancing have done to my physique. For now, I’m walking around with my hot boyfriend in tow.

Baby Steppin’.

Due to the poor economy and what not I had to ask my mom to refill my Yaz prescription. We’re allowed to blame the economy now, aren’t we?

My doctor is considered a specialist and a specialist visit costs a lot more than a regular co-payment especially when you are the one paying for your own health insurance. Yeah, that’s me. And my doctor is about half an hour away. But I looooooooooove her so I’m not finding another doctor.

Luckily, my mother is a doctor and this was the first time I’ve ever had to ask her to write me a script. It was probably the last as well. She pulled the “all my friends are grandparents” card on me. Then she gave me the longest speech ever about if I want a child in the next year (her timeline, not ours) that it’d be wise not to go back on Yaz.

Married or not, my mother is that cool, she doesn’t care – she just feels that I’d make a great mom and that marital status, security and/or money should not be an issue if you really want to be a mother. I agree. It’s just that I have a lot of stuff that needs to be made permanent before even thinking of when to have child – like, a permanent job position so I don’t have to shell out over $300 a month for my own health insurance. That’s my number one reason.

Cowboy’s number one reason is he wants to go back to school – which I’m not really having because I think it would be easier to go back to school while a baby is a baby and not a toddler; if he should go back to school in the near future. But that’s ok, the point is not one of us have marriage as the priority reasoning for having a baby. Call us Bragelina.

A couple months back I met the coolest couple – not married and having a baby. I was so impressed when the girl was talking to me, she just put it out there: we live in modern times, where does it say that you have to be married to have a baby? I’d rather not be married than be married to get a divorce and messing with a kids emotions that way” or something like that. Whatever she said it made perfect sense to me. Love is all you need.

Tonight is our talk night. Yes, we scheduled a time to discuss baby timeline and future baby. I think its important that you set time up to talk about important things – this way each topic gets the seriousness and respect you should apply to it and its not just some discussion you have on the way to theater. The other day, we set up time to talk about finances and the future mostly because Suze Orman on Oprah scared the shit out of me. While we were in Cabazon, we joked that no one would know the economy was in a crisis if you walked into the casino we were at – seriously. Money thrown left and right into any slot machine people could find. What economy crisis, we asked.

That’s how we do, we set up time to talk. On the plane ride back to Texas we talked about marriage. Tuesday it was finances. Tonight baby. I like our talks – we always come out of them more honest, more in love, more knowledgeable of the other’s goals, hopes and dreams. Tonight I feel we’ll need to conference my mom into the conversation so she can cool it with her desperate need to be a grandmother.

But my real question to her is, if she wants to be a grandma so bad, why’d she write the Yaz script for a year? Ha ha ha.

It's Pink

I love him so much. I love my boyfriend so much. It’s days like today that I realize how lucky I really am. My boyfriend made me pink lemonade. Not from scratch. But he made me pink lemonade. Lemonade is the only non alcoholic drink other than water that I will drink. I don’t drink soda. I order lemonade or pink lemonade when we eat out. Today, today my boyfriend made me pink lemonade.

Tuning In and Maybe Out

Let’s Talk About This.

Grey’s Anatomy. I’ll tell you why you are number twelve: Denny Duquette. OMG. Will there ever be a season where you wont have to pull the Denny card? Seriously. I was feeling the episode all along. Even the snippet of old Christina and Meredith. I was with you and I thought the three women drama was good. I was in tears when the woman’s memory didn’t come back. I was loving Bernadette Peters. I was even loving hot army doctor – we know that won’t be the last we see of him. And I was right there getting the whole “number twelve” thing. I was with you. Until Denny showed up on the scene. WHY? This is a dead horse. Move on. Denny is O.V.E.R. and everytime you bring him back, it reminds me of the reason I want to quit watching in the first place.

Desperate Housewives. Was it necessary to jump five years in time? If so, okay. I do not believe that Gabby would let herself go and have an overweight child named Juanita. I was seriously waiting for this dream sequence to end. How come the only person that aged any was Orson? And where were the rest of Lynette's kids? Not liking it so far. I’ll tune in a bit more and that’s it.

Ugly Betty. I love you. I love you so much. I dance around for Ugly Betty. I don’t know anyone who watches this show, but it is seriously that good. Betty is such a breath of fresh air. But just like the others – I was hoping the premiere was a dream sequence too. “Player Magazine”? Honestly. I feel like all the shows kind of didn’t give it their all for premiere week – at least the shows that I watch.

But there are some goodies happening out there: Thanks to Nannette, I now tune into True Blood. Cowboy loves True Blood, too so its something that we can both enjoy together. I don’t think the main vampire is hot but there is something about him that is oh so hmm. And I think Anna Paquin stands with her butt sticking out way too much. Pay attention if you watch. Her butt isn’t that big. Her friend, Tara? Oy, I’m seriously hoping the reason the character is the way she is, is because her mom drank a ton when she was pregnant with her. Loving LaFayatte. If you don’t watch, I recommend you do, if you have HBO.

I’m kind of weaning off Raising the Bar. At first it was good stuff, but now it just feels like The Practice. And I love The Practice. It’s just that Raising the Bar feels like it’s too much of a copycat. Gossip Girl is doing excellent in my book and I’m waiting for Blair to just blow up any time now but I’m on her side because Serena is just not the same without Dan. Boo.

So that’s it. That’s what I’m watching on the TV. What are you tuning into?

Who, What, Where Have You Been?

I’ve considered myself lucky that I’ve been on some pretty swanky trips and vacations. I separate trips from vacation because most of the places I’ve visited were on a company dime. I can honestly say that most of those have been expensive stays and I consider myself lucky that I’ve been able to go for work. It’s a good way to get the vacation you can’t afford. But, I have found a new way – the OFF season.

I looooved our vacation. Loved it. Los Angeles to Cabazon to Palm Springs to Cabazon to Los Angeles all in a spiffy Sebring convertible. There were only two snafus – American Airlines (expected because I honestly have yet to be in the air at 10:01 if they say the plane will depart at 10:00am. Seriously.) and some tar on Manhattan Beach. What is that about Los Angeles? We walked the beach in bare feet, of course and thought that the black patches of stuff were seaweed. Wrong! It was tar. I cannot even explain it, Cowboy looked it up and told me what the reason was but it was too late for me to care. After we spent an hour scrubbing it off our feet and I spent an hour scrubbing it off our tub Friday night, I didn’t care. Just stay clear of the black stuff that looks like seaweed, it’s not. The beach was awesome though. As many times that I’ve been in LA I never been to any of the beaches. I loved it. It was so great for Cowboy as well as the last time he’s been to a beach he was a kid. On Manhattan Beach I got to witness some of that kid in him, he was so darn happy to be there. So was I.

Before all that, we spent time in Cabazon at the Morongo Casino Resort & Spa. Loved that, too. The best part was the staff – everyone treated us with first class. Room service, the all night café, the pool staff – everyone. They were also filming Knight Rider while we were staying there so most of the staff really went out of the way to make sure that we were still getting our attention and were not bothered by the production crew. Not me!

It really was the vacation we would normally not afford – private casitas and pool side cabana, dinner at their roof top restaurant with a $84 bottle of Reisling for only $38, and of course the pool and room service. We ordered it up.

The best part was that right next door to the hotel is the world’s best ever outlet mall. I’m talking YSL, DVF, Gucci, Dior, Kors, Chanel – the list goes on and on and on. I spent over an hour at BCBG. Everything was $49 or $69. I die!

Just when I was falling in love with the middle of nowhere desert, we trekked on to Palm Springs. Loving it even moreso. Everything in Palm Springs is a kick back to the Sinatra/Rat Pack days of fun. I seriously can see us retiring there. Cowboy could see us marrying there, but that’s a whole other post and I’m talking vacation not relationship today. We stayed at the Hotel ZoSo – very nice. It was across from the Square, where all the shopping and restaurants are. Too bad it was way too darn hot to walk it all. The place was a scorcher for September – the low season is low for a reason. We also had a great happy hour at The Parker. It was much smaller than I thought it would be and ten times more expensive. Two drinks were $24 – a mojito and a beer. Yeah. Riiight. We kept our happy hour to just that, an hour.

Then it was time for the drive back to L.A. and that’s when we hit the beach and Shade Hotel. Shade Hotel is now my absolute favorite hotel in the entire world. I never heard of it until up to two days before our vacay. We were going to stay our last night in Cabazon but decided to take it to L.A. and I’m glad we made the change. Shade Hotel rocks!

And so did our vacation. It was much needed for both of us to get right back to where we were, before the brother stayed over, before the super duper gaming computer was built, before Iraq. It was so nice. I have to say that since we’ve been back, we’ve both been walking on sunshine (and not tar).