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I Want All My Babies’ Mamas
I am hopping mad, y’all. Madder than a cat on bath day. Our civil liberties as citizens of this fine nation are under attack. Our constitutional rights are being trod upon. And no, I’m not talking about efforts to rein in assault rifles. I’m talking about the premature cancellation of this fine bit of television…
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It’s Not a Fad If In Fact You Do Get Fit
My personal-trainer-for-eternity XFE is making me try new workout classes lately. He’s talked me into going to BodyPump a handful of times. Tonight, he’s got me doing some CXwork class, which sounds intimidating as all get out. (Where on my body is my CX located anyway? Are we absolutely sure it needs work?) We’re trying…
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Banjo Lovers Need Not Apply
Scene: 7 am on a Friday, getting ready for work. Television is on and tuned to a music video station in the master bedroom. I am in the bathroom putting on makeup. My gangsta-thug-sucka-free-rap-star boyfriend XFE walks into the master bedroom and snorts definitively. Me: What’s up? XFE: Banjo lovers. Me: What? Oh, Mumford & Sons?…
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A New Packing Strategy for Sensible People (Not Me)
I forgot to include this in yesterday’s post. It really is quite impressive. It’s my travel year in review. I flew 59,866 miles. My longest flight was between Munich and Bangkok, twice 5,474 miles. Anyway, our latest trip was a long weekend in Austin, Texas over New Year’s Eve. Usually, I fret and panic over what…
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All I Want for Christmas is World Peace. And a Gateau Basque.
So Christmas is always, in my experience, an emotional roller coaster. And I don’t like roller coasters. Or emotions, really. But what I do like is cake. Or, pie. Or, cookie/pie/cake hybrids. Which is why for Christmas this year, I made a Gateau Basque. Actually, we’re not very big on sweets in thePoeLog household. Neither…
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Happy Kwanzaa.
A real post is coming your way tomorrow. Promise. In the meantime, may I present: Rhett Miller of the Old 97s.
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Christmas Ennui
In lieu of a post, I bring you Henri, who is visited by the cats of Christmas past, present, future, etc. He learns nothing. The. End.
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Reality TV: Made in Chelsea is Better Than Dental Surgery
This morning, I’m at the dentist. Or, periodontist. Or whatever he’s called. Suffice it to say, I’m at a place where a man is going to shoot needles into my gums and then proceed to cut at those gums. I’m not happy about all this. Thanks to the excellently neglectful childhood dental care I received,…
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‘Best Funeral Ever?’ More Like Best Idea for a Reality TV Show Ever
Listen, I know I owe all of you a real post. I’ve even started a post on our last stop in Spain (the alluring San Sebastian). But it’s not ready, and I’m super-important and really busy, and it’s the holidays, and there’s lots of baking, and entertaining, and partying, and fancy dressing going on, and…
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Rioja Part Two: Do Great Architects Make Good Wine?
“This Gehry guy really seems to know what he’s doing,” I said out loud, albeit, a bit breathlessly. I’m pretty sure the bellhop heard me on that one. The swirling riot of metallic ribbons of fuschia, gold and silver that make up the roof of the Hotel Marques de Riscal will do that to a…