A Very Special Tuna Sandwich.



This Sunday I broke a 6 month seafood boycott. One look at Amy's very special tuna salad sandwich, with coconut, tamarind vinigrette, walnuts and baby greens....it was all over. I had just one bite and the next thing I knew, I was standing in John's kitchen finishing half of the sandwich. I can't tell you it won't happen again.

Sorry fish.

ALL POINTS BULLETIN: Scratchy bandits on the loose in Boulevard Park.



Someone scratched my car too. I was dismayed to find a scratch and a whole lot of white paint on my back bumper this morning. Somebody's out to get us. And if I were annoyingly pretentious and just plain dorky, I would have ended that last sentance with: methinks. But I'm not like that.

Top 3 things the Colonel* says everyday:



1. "Well back when I was at Record Bar...."
2. "Now I'm stupid, so tell me again how to...."
3. "Well bless your heart."

*There's a guy here in my office that, if you dressed him in a white suit and black tie, you'd take one look at him and one look at the real Colonel Sanders and say: "Y'all kin? 'Cause y'all sure do reckon."

Someone sang to me:



Little viola hidden in the orchestra, how I love to pretend the sounds you make are flowers that slowly encircle the band.

From this song.

And that last part is so sad.

On your marks, get set....shop.



Without further ado, my winter holiday gift list.

Ginger perfume.
Kangol Furgora hat in black or red. Size small.
Clarks like yours. Size 7 1/2.
Books or DVDs from my Amazon Wishlist.
Things that smell like lavender or ginger.
Warm socks with different patterns.
Honey colored chenille throw.
Gift card from clothes stores that I like.
Black or navy pea coat (size XS or S).
Business card holder.
Digital or Analog watch with metal band. Like this. Or like this.
Slippers. Size 7 1/2. Any kind.
A computer program that makes a snowman that says “I love you Teeni!” when you click on his carrot nose.
A mix CD of nice “I love you” songs.
Sweater, size XS.
Sweater, size XS.
Sweater, size XS.

In the queue



Last year, I wasn't nearly as busy as this. Often, my hot date with the Sims or with Diane Sawyer was the norm. Now I have too much to do. I'm pulled in all directions.

I want to nap on the couch. I want to read books and not magazines.
I want that time machine I keep asking for.

I will put you back together.

Just do what they say.



Sandy, she's like a mountain goat. She can walk anywhere.

They're playing our song.



Having gone to 3 weddings in the past three months, I have definitely learned a thing or two. I only hope ours turns out to be fun. How we loose? We're getting a mariachi band.

Flat Broke.



I'll be eating mac and cheese for the next week. For this, I would like to thank wedding culture and all the pricey and kooky customs that come with it. I can't wait until everyone is married and over with it.

The offering.

In the office this morning:



It's not uncommon for one of my co-workers to ask who handles a certain market, regionally.

Co-Worker: Hey Teeni, who does Dallas?
Me: Um, Debbie?
Co-Worker: Who's Debbie? Debbie. Oh! HA! (fit of laughter ensues)
Me: Ha ha, no really. I think it's Irene.

At the moment when I thought she didn't get it, my face turned an alarming shade of reddish purple and an intense meeting with HR flashed before my eyes.

But I sure am funny.

In the crowded grocery:



Leon: You know what we need?
Me (Looking at the sorority girls who were oblivious that they were blocking our cart): Um, a cattle prod?

They still didn't notice.

But I sure am funny.

The Sauce



We drank too much on Saturday and played to a sparse living room crowd, which made us feel like total killjoys.

I'm over it.

I'm so over it.