Nanook of The Northeast

My first bathroom selfie! What took me so long? It’s adorable. Look how slimming the long mirror is. Anyway that’s not what this post is about. It’s about my coat. Not a coat of many colors, but a coat of much girth and fabric. Isn’t it fantastic? My husband called me a character from Star Wars – I can’t remember the name but it’s the people all wrapped up like Wookies. Maybe he called me a Wookie…

Someone else commented that it looks like a sleeping bag. Yes! Exactly the look I was going for. Seriously. It’s been so wacky in the Northeast weather wise. One day it’s 60 degrees, and the next it’s 6. I needed a coat that did me right. That wouldn’t let me down. Get it. Down. I don’t mind being warm or even hot, I can take it. I don’t love it, but I’m tropical – I get over it. What I can’t stand is being cold. And guess who is never cold in this coat? This guy!

Is it attractive? God no. Would I wear it if I was a young, single gal out on the town? Who knows, I’ve never been young and single. And I certainly have never been out on the town.

Did you hear about the passengers stuck for 30 hours on the cold Amtrak in Oregon? I could’ve kept the whole train warm under here. Those are the exact kind of emergencies I bought this coat for. That and going to Target early on Saturdays. I could be wearing pajamas under here and no one would be able to tell.

Surprisingly this coat wasn’t that expensive – which probably means most people want nothing to do with it – but that’s just fine with me. Here’s one of me with the hood on and a giant scarf to go with my giant coat.

That’s really all I wanted to tell you today. I gotta go now and take more bathroom selfies. xoxo

I like big hoops and I cannot lie…

I’ve never met a big earring I didn’t like. I can’t help it. And the queen of all big earrings is the hoop. Yes people, the hoops you stopped wearing in 1987. I never put mine away, they left high school with me and are alive and well in 2019! I also brought my smokey eye and love for tights with me from the 80s. It’s all working out fine for me.

Actually I got even bigger, hoopier hoops from a dear friend (love ya Julie!). These are the size of a baby’s head… in other words, perfect. I think the only other people still rocking them are the Real Housewives of NJ and maybe Jlo. I’m in good company.

Ok… go continue your Sunday. I just needed to tell you that right now.

Snow dayzzzzzzz


I think this picture was taken in 2000. We were living in NYC on the upper east side. Kera was 2. Going for walks with her daddy was one of her favorite things, even in a blizzard. Even in dirty city snow.

That white snow suit was a gift from her godmother Colleen, my sister-in-law. Colleen bought Kera every winter coat until she became a teen – and stopped wearing winter coats.

The picture with the pink hat below became our Christmas card that year.

This was Kera’s first major sledding adventure. Look at that face! Look at that hat! Remember when you could put your kids in anything and they’d wear it? I don’t.

  I think this is that same year. We had moved out of the city to upstate NY.

  Then Jack came on the scene…ready to party.

 Just look at Kera’s toothy smile! I like taking this trip down winter coat memory lane….

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We still meet with family every year right before Christmas – back then we met in Lancaster, PA. Thanks to Aunt Dee Dee we’d see a show, stay in a hotel and kick off the holidays. The picture below is from one of the last times we were there. We drove down and a blizzard hit. The show was cancelled but we found an open restaurant and made the best of it. I’m not sure why Jack isn’t wearing gloves. I seem to have him wrapped up like a babushka except for his little, cold hands. I was too busy taking pictures.

Snow makes them happy. And anything that makes them happy is fine by me.

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Come on knock on our door…

Everyday I slip closer and closer to becoming Mrs. Roper.
Do you know who that is? Three’s Company. Jack, Chrissy, and the other one..Mindy? I dunno. Anyway, I have to be careful.
I looked in the mirror this morning and thought, “uh oh. Getting close to the edge.”
If I start wearing a tropical mumu please slap me.
Here’s a comparison.
I’ll be looking for yellow beads.
(Notice the beams of light hitting my big, fat beads. I think that’s Audra Lindley who played Mrs. Roper giving me her blessing from heaven)

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Fly Guy

I flew back home last night on a delayed flight that got me home at about midnight. So, approximately 14 hours at the airport, in transit and on the tarmac. Awesome.

But there was a silver lining. I met Leo. The French Australian gay man of my dreams. Here’s what I learned about him during our travels together:

  • He grew up in Versailles. He laughed when I made my Marie Antoinette joke and asked if he lived in the main palace or the petit appartement de la reine..  I’m completely sure he’s never heard that before.
  • His father and mother are both tailors. He has 4 sisters who are all still in France. He went to school to become an accountant but realized he wanted to join the family business.
  • He has lived in Australia with his boyfriend for 20+ years. They almost adopted a baby some years back but spent the money on a vacation instead.
  • He had a stroke at 30 and was blind for 4 months.
  • At one point in the conversation he said in a very thick French/Australian accent,” I ADORE your scarf.” Then I regaled him with the story of said scarf. Bought in Paris (kismet!) by my husband. It’s a beautiful blue with what look like dark boxes from afar. Close up they are TVs. Yes. TVs.
  • As we watched Safe Haven together on the flight (it was awful, I still cried at the end), I convinced him to download Sleeping With The Enemy – a much superior woman-runs-from-abusive-relationship-to-small-town movie. He admitted that he thinks Julia Roberts looks like a horse and he doesn’t know why Americans love her. I then spent 20 minutes talking about Pretty Woman, “incase I forget to tell you later, I had a really good time tonight”, “Welcome to Hollywood! What’s your dream?”. Come on. You can’t hate Vivian.
  • He asked for 2 inflight meals and polished off both in an instant – which was surprising because he was small enough to carry in my pocket.
  • When he first boarded the flight he walked right over to the seat and said, “hello friend”.  Like Little Bill. That’s when I knew I’d love him forever.

By request – pics of my scarf.

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Hair Apparent

It was the 80’s.

That’s my defense. I was so young, I didn’t know better. All the popular kids were doing it.  I was lured into it.

And by the way – where were all the parental figures in my life that could have saved me from this fate? Turns out, they were right next to me doing the same thing. Oh well. What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger – that’s what Kelly Clarkson told me. Anyway, it’s time to come clean now. To open up all my cobwebbed secrets and get them out of my head – or off my head.  It’s time you all know about my deepest, darkest time. Although back then I thought I was happy. I thought I was rockin’ life. I thought I was cool. Sigh. Don’t judge me, just learn from me.  I was addicted to my…

PERM.

Not a long, flowing ringlets perm. This was a short, tight, helmut head perm. And I loved it. I was 10 and delusional.

With all this Michelle Obama bang talk I started thinking about my hair through the years. I rocked my hair styles yo. Sadly, some of the those styles were hideous and scary in hindsight. But that’s normal right? Right?

Listen, I had dark black hair. I couldn’t bleach it or lemon it or turn it funky colors like my blond haired pals (I’m talking to you Kelly Jensen), the most drastic thing I could do was curl it. And boy did I.

Because I’ve been absent from writing for a bit I feel like I owe you all. Big time.

To you from me PinkyLee (any Grease fans out there?).  I added a recent picture of myself so you see that bad 80’s perms really do grow out and because I do not want that picture to be your lasting impression of me. Although it’ll take a while to shake the image from your mind’s eye. Trust me.

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Sorry the old photo is a mess, I had to dig it out of my drawer of shame.

Phew. Now I feel better. Now we are even. All debts are paid. In full.

You know what they say about big earrings….

We are having a neighborhood yard sale on Saturday, and like a glutton for punishment I’ve signed up again (technically I forgot to sign-up but my responsible neighbor who knew I wanted to participate did it for me – soon there will be a blog titled,”people who carry me through life.”).

What I forget every year is that I live with the ultimate thrower-outer.  We have no extra stuff.  I’ve told you all – we hardly have stuff.

So I decided to go through my jewelry and maybe get rid of some of the outdated pieces.  As I’m sitting on my bed, digging through, reminiscing about where/how/with whom I wore each thing, my girl bounces in the room and says,” you know what you should write a blog about? How you love really big earrings.”

What? I wear really big earrings? No. Stop it. I wear normal earrings. They aren’t what you would call dainty or demure – but really big? Was that a complement? Was she trying to tell me something? Should I be worried? Nah. My earrings are all regular sized.  Nothing to see here folks. Move along.

Except for these….

And these are a tad big, I admit it.

And maybe these are slightly on the larger end….statement pieces is how I like to think of them.

I knew these were big but I bought them for special occasions. Like going to the grocery store.

Ok those are not bracelets – those things are massive. Taylor Dayne big (anyone? anyone?).  Point taken.  I wear really big earrings.

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