I have found an absolutely fantastic artist who expresses sentiments that I want to share with so many of you. Please visit her site and perhaps you can find something that would make a perfect gift for a wonderful woman in your life.
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God, I love this one: 
The Strip District, here in Pittsburgh, is such a fun place on a Saturday morning. Stores selling fresh meats and fish, Chinese women cooking chicken on a stick or mung bean pancakes right on the sidewalk, a popcorn store, specialty Italian cheese stores, guys from the Andes Mountains selling wool sweaters and finger puppets at a table on the sidewalk, the best biscotti bakers in the tristate area (their little store was even used for the filming of a Scott Baio movie), boxes of $15 shoes on a corner, coffee roasters, a pottery store, restaurants, churches, a store dedicated to kitchen items next door to a store dedicated to nothing but spices, party supply stores, a candy store that even carries boxes of those little UFO like wafers with the sugar beads inside, specialty Asian food stores, a few bars and night clubs, adorable little unique gift stores and probably more folks selling Steelers stuff than you can count (they carry everything Black and Gold that you could possibly want: gloves, t-shirts, earrings, hats, sweatshirts, pj pants, little kids’ outfits, leather jackets, fleece jackets, scarves, beer coozies, steering wheel covers, ear braziers, baseball hats, bottle openers, playing cards, shot glasses, mugs, necklaces, flags and more).
I met Gary about 10:30 this morning so that we could do breakfast at Pamela’s in the Strip. The place has been there forever and has some damn fine food. In fact, their potatoes might just be the best I have ever had. Coming from a girl who is about half Irish, that is saying something! Unfortunately I did forget to bring my own Bailey’s, but the coffee was still pretty damn tasty. All around great meal.
We followed that up with a bunch of walking the shops in the Strip. Took everything I had, but I didn’t buy anything. Then we headed over to Homestead for a movie at Loews. Four Christmases was MUCH better than I had anticipated. Perhaps it was still a residual high from my great breakfast and the resulting good mood, but I laughed my ass off. Really enjoyed the movie. Helps that I love Vince Vaughn, but still. Fun movie.
Barnes and Noble is only a block away, so we spent entirely too much time in the book store after the flick. I have to tell you, it was a true pleasure to see so many people purchasing books for presents.
After spending entirely too much time buying stuff at the book store, we were on our way back to drop him at his car when we decided we needed a good, cheap meal. I hadn’t been to Big Jim’s in the Run in a really, really long time so we headed down below the bridge for a meal and a beverage. All I wanted was a salad until I looked at the menu and saw lasagna. Since I don’t cook, it is not a meal that I have the pleasure of consuming with any regularity so when I heard there was no sausage baked in, plus it came with a small and mostly iceberg lettuce salad, I just had to have it. Oh my fuck, was it good. And HUGE. Like “no fucking way I could eat it all” big. At least I will have breakfast tomorrow!
Speaking of Big Jim’s, be sure to watch my boyfriend Guy’s show on the Food Network (Diners, Drive ins and Dives) on January 5th. Seems Guy was here in town filming again. The bartender at Big Jim’s said he also loved the lasagna. See? There was never a doubt in my mind that we would be terrific together. 
ANYhow, now I am all about happy at home, on the couch with the puppies. I have no desire to go out. So I ain’t gonna! Love that I don’t have to. Happy Saturday to me! With my remote control, my couch, my puppies and my Eclipse book, it should be a terrific night.
Out of town sales reps have been in our headquarters for the past few days. Lots of meetings and training going on. Not really bad stuff, either. I learned a bit yesterday.
After I get through Friday’s day of being cooped up in our gorgeous conference room, our company Christmas party is tonight. Yay!
Thankfully it snowed a bit (maybe an inch?) yesterday. Might get some more today. Feeling a bit more like Christmas.
Happy Friday. (You might wanna call it Fuck Me Friday, but considering who I’ll be around all day, I’ll skip on that.)
Oh yes, I went through with it. Again. And I stand by my original review: ouch.
Wednesday evening I rushed to the spa to pay a bucket of money to have pain inflicted on me. By choice! Full body waxing…legs, Brazilian, eyebrows and underarms. A little over an hour and a half of hot wax and ripping hair from me.
First time I tried this was early November and I vowed that no matter how much it hurt, I would not stop the technician, nor would I cry. For the most part I did alright, but I certainly yelped a bit every now and then.
Wednesday I was determined to do better. Everyone says waxing gets easier the more you do it, so dammit, I wasn’t gonna yelp again. Since I got out of work a little late I had to call and say I would most likely be about 15 minutes late. When I heard that H was running late with the client before me I sort of happily explained something about it being a great thing because I would have time to stop at the bar next door for a shot of tequila before my appointment. The owner laughed and told me not to bother because they had a bottle of tequila. Yay!
I had just arrived and was bullshitting with one of the employees when the owner came gliding out from the back, headed towards the front desk, with a wine glass that was almost half full of tequila. On the fly she handed me the tequila. While she was still within reach I had the contents consumed and was handing the glass back. Seems next time she’ll give me more tequila / Novocain since I “drink too fast.”
Thing is, I think it worked! The waxing didn’t hurt as much as I remembered. Yay, tequila!
Until over an hour into it when I had to turn over. Please take a moment and try to imagine hot wax on your ass. Not on the left side, not on the right side, but right in the middle. Fuck, that hurts! And this is before they rip the wax off. Deep breath! Now imagine that hot wax clinging to the few hairs around your sensitive asshole. Keep imagining…paper being pressed into the wax and riiiiiip!
Yeah, the deep breaths didn’t help. A gel squeezie ball that I brought with me sort of eased some of the pain by giving me something to focus on. So did distracting myself by taking photos of my face while my ass was being waxed…
Fucking crazy Brazilians and their waxing.
ANYhow, when these photos were taken, I was more than half nekkid so these totally count for today. To those of you who wanted me to video my experience, I might consider it for next month’s adventure. (However, you still would only see my face for that!)
So, anyone in the Pittsburgh area own a video camera?
Monday evening I was leaving work about a half an hour past my official quitting time. I had to get home and take care of the dogs before I could get my butt to pick up the girls and then get to the arena where the Penguins game was to start at 7:35. Walking out from the office I noticed a car parking next to my SUV and I couldn’t help but mumble about the entire parking lot being empty and yet some dude is parking next to me. Grrrrr.
Then he steps out of the car and I recognize him as the owner of my company. I happily holler something like hi and then wolf, saying, “Wow. You look really good. That outfit so agrees with you!” Yes, I “wooolf”ed at the boss, but he was quite literally stunning with his gray hair, red scarf and long black wool coat. Seeing as how I have worked there for 10 years, he knows I am harmless, yet appreciate his physical appearance. (You have to know by now that I don’t hold much back!)
Approaching me he smiled and teased about me leaving work so early. I said that I had plans and needed to get the hell outta dodge. What surprised the hell outta me was when as I was about to get into my vehicle he hollers, “Keep your pants on! Have fun!”
I froze for a second and pondered if my ears really heard “Keep your pants on!”
He stopped and actually giggled. I couldn’t help cracking up as well. He said, “I was going to say something about enjoying whatever blows your skirt up, but I know you don’t wear skirts.”
Best part of my job isn’t the travel, the pay that keeps a roof over my head or the variety of daily tasks. Nope, I am so thankful for my job because I work for and with phenomenal people who allow me to be me while they are their true selves. And our true selves don’t have to be perfectly politically correct. Even if I do have to keep my pants on.
Happy Wang Out Wednesday.
While you all know I absolutely adore Pittsburgh, there are plenty of places I would like to visit. For some reason I have always had a desire to head towards the North Western part of our country. Just so happens I am all about sad to have missed this spectacular display at Mt. Rainier:
Please check out the website where I captured these incredible images for more photos and all of the photographer information. Thanks, Komo News.
Holy shit, those pictures were so gorgeous. Sure, I have always wanted to see Mt. Rainier, but reading about these clouds totally tugged at my heart.
Happy Tuesday. Photos from my silly Monday night out will follow.
I didn’t think I was down. Adam wasn’t so sure. So the other day he sent me the drawing that I had won way back before his Halloween party. And wow, did it lift me up. Made me laugh and filled me with such joy. Most excellent surprise. If I were premenstrual I would have totally cried, that is how touched I was by his gesture.
(Before you comment, Adam, I did not touch myself. I was simply trying to say that I was thrilled to receive my new awesome artwork and I really appreciate you thinking of me. Oh, and I loved that when someone said “fucking rainbows and puppies” you said the same thing as I did, “wonder what it is like to fuck a rainbow!”)
I highly recommend that yinz click on the image to make it bigger. This smaller image doesn’t do justice to the brilliance that is Avitable’s Artwork.
Adam, thank you. More than I can possibly convey, thank you. For everything.
Especially for making my boobs so high and perky.
I’m donating every cent that I would have spent on presents for my family to some folks who I know that need money more than we need stuff. Ever since Mom died I just don’t feel right about the excess and I can’t shake it. From one of those International Help the World catalogs, Mom would buy chickens and goats and pigs in the family name and I am kinda carrying on the tradition, except donating to those I personally know / know of. Not that chickens for villages aren’t needed, but I feel better this year giving to individuals close to my heart who are struggling.
BUT, there are a few friends who I really want to buy a present for. And I am at a loss as to what to buy for the woman at work who has been a dear friend for years. She is brilliant and wonderful, but she has everything she could possibly desire. Any suggestions?
Please don’t say a chicken. Or a goat.
Thanks.
Friday’s bulletrama contained the fact that my dogs have last names which differ from my own. The lovely Finn was a tad baffled by the fact that their names don’t match my own. Pretty easy to explain, actually.
See, I don’t consider myself their “mom.” They are not my children. Instead, they are my boys and I am their Becky. We live together in this house with a long backyard, a place I bought for them, but I am not their momma. Sometimes my heart is thisclose to bursting with love for the boys, yet it makes me uncomfortable when someone says something about my babies.
No. Just, no.
Now that we have that out of the way, my dogs are gifts in my life from wonderful people. I did not give birth to either of them.
Reilly’s mom was a beagle and his dad was a black lab. He was born at the vet tech school where a cousin was studying. She brought him home with her as soon as he was old enough to leave his mom. The sweet little boy lived with her for two years until she moved to an apartment that wouldn’t allow dogs of any size. I was desperate for a dog in my life and just so happened to be moving to an apartment which allowed pets. Because I already knew the gentle little Reillymonster, I didn’t hesitate when the offer for him to come live with me was extended.
Eventually I felt bad about leaving Reilly at home all day by himself while I worked. A customer knew my dad had been a city k-9 cop and that I had a soft spot for German Shepherds. He kept pushing me to contact folks an hour plus away from Pittsburgh who accidentally had a litter of puppies incredibly close to Christmas. Gorgeous, purebred pups who cost more than I could afford at the time. So an ex-boyfriend that I was still talking to bought Ludo for me. He sent payment and a note to the seller, asking that the note be handed to me when my then boyfriend wasn’t nearby. I was so touched by his wonderful, generous gesture that somehow it just seemed natural to me for Ludo to carry his last name. He probably doesn’t even know that, but it doesn’t matter. Ludo should still carry his name.
So there you have it. Proof that I am crazy. (As if the internet needed proof!)
Non crazy photos:
Ludo, too young to leave his mom.
Reilly, almost three years old. 
This past October…
So much is a happenin that I don’t have as much time as I would like to write here . Which means happy little bullets! Don’t complain. You know you love them. Gets you here and out quickly.
Now, aren’t you thankful for bullets?