Twenty Four At Heart

Readers, Meet Ms. Narsa Sist

I have another salon experience from last week which I thought was worth sharing.

As I sat at the salon patiently reading magazines and waiting for my hair to turn back to it's chemically induced natural shade of blonde (oxymoron!), I couldn't help observing the people around me.  There was a stylist working near me who was dressed as if she was perhaps planning to shop on the Champs De Elysse in Paris instead of spending her day cutting hair.  As she styled her patron's new cut, her eyes stayed fixed almost entirely on her own reflection in the mirror.  I was anticipating a really bad haircut for her customer.

I don't know the stylist's name so I have dubbed her Ms. Narsa Sist.  Ms. Narsa Sist wore five inch stiletto heels.  Mr. Dunlop would be so proud.  My male readers may not appreciate the significance of those heels, but ladies can you imagine standing in 5 inch heels all day cutting hair?  The pain, the agony, the permanent crippling, all so that the other women in the salon might, what?  Admire Narsa Sist's legs?  

Narsa Sist wore a green velvet skirt.  Green velvet in the summer, in sunny Southern California.  She also had on a blouse, a green velvet jacket, and a hairdresser's apron to protect her clothing.  It was 90 degrees that day here in the OC.  What the hell was she thinking?  The highlight of her outfit, however, was her green velvet top hat which perfectly matched her green velvet skirt and jacket.  She resembled a leprechaun.  Oh, and did I mention it was ninety degrees that day?     

Women love to prattle on to their hair stylists.  Hair stylists know everything about their customers.  Observing Narsa Sist, however, I realized her patron never had the opportunity to say a word.  Narsa Sist chatted incessantly about herself, all the while riveted by her own appearance in the mirror.  There was no real conversation taking place.  Narsa Sist is quite talented at entertaining herself while her clients occasionally smile and nod. 

Narsa Sist was sharing her beauty secrets.  Primarily how she keeps her "figure".  Can I preface this by saying I couldn't make this shit up if I tried?  Now that we've made that clear, let me share Narsa Sist's beauty secret.

Narsa Sist rubs Preparation H all over her stomach, butt and hips.  That's right, hemorrhoid cream all over her body.  Then she wraps herself in Saran Wrap.  (I think Briefcase and I did something along these lines once or twice, minus the hemorrhoid cream.)  After the plastic wrap, Narsa Sist puts on a neoprene body wrap.  Clothes apparently go on top of that.  Narsa Sist also proudly declared she wears Preparation H as her eye cream also.  Apparently she feels it is a wonder drug and rids her of eye puffiness, stomach bloating, rounded hips, a fat ass, and other woes that distract from her "look". 

So ... along with the stilettos, the green velvet skirt, blouse, green velvet jacket, green top hat, and hairdresser's apron ... underneath there is hemorrhoid cream, Saran Wrap, and a neoprene body wrap.  Did someone mention it was ninety degrees?

Fortunately, I am no expert on hemorrhoid cream.  Aren't you glad I shared?  However, can I just say ... disgusting?!

I keep wondering what happens when Ms. Narsa Sist gets her man.  I'm sure she heads out for a night on the town dressed in her version of the latest fashion, covered in hemorrhoid cream, plastic wrap, and neoprene.  I picture her picking up on some poor unsuspecting guy at a bar, inviting him home where he discovers ... all her layers.  And the odor of hemorrhoid cream. 

Maybe some men get turned on by neoprene and hemorrhoid cream?

Mr. Dunlop - We Need to Talk!

I was at a salon last week.  That sounds so Orange County, doesn't it?  As if, all we do here is hang out at spas and salons.  The truth is, I needed to get my straw hair fixed.  All these women who want to be blonde?  They don't realize what happens to blonde hair in the summer.  Swimming in the ocean and in our pool (which is a salt water pool) turns my blonde hair white and the consistency of straw.  It's one sexy look if you like Bimbette Blonde.  Personally, I'm not a big fan so I was having low-lights put in to take out the Bimbo-ness of my current look.

In any case, those low-lights (darker streaks for my male readers) take awhile to soak in.  I, of course, started flipping through magazines because there's not a whole lot else to do while you're sitting there with foil pieces sticking out all over your head.  The August edition of Oprah Magazine has a column titled "Adam Says".  It is some type of advice column.  A woman wrote in with the following question, "I'm 48, divorced, and re-entering the dating scene - what should I wear?"  

Don't you wonder what this woman was really thinking?  Did she believe a total stranger, who has never met her, doesn't know where she lives, what she looks like, or the lifestyle she (or her community) has, will have a good idea of what she should wear on a date?

Do you know what Adam, the advice columnist, told her?  He told her, "You don't want to look like a housewife of Orange County."  That's right, that was Adam's advice to jump start her love life. 

This magazine is read throughout the entire world.  Oprah is big; Oprah is huge.  Everything Oprah says is believed by everyone in the entire world.  And Oprah's magazine says, you don't want to look like one of those hos ladies from Orange County.  OK, that about does it for me.  I'd like to talk to Scott Dunlop, please.  Preferably now.

Mr. Dunlop (may I call you Scott?) is the producer of The Real Housewives of Orange County and I think it is about time he and I have a chat.  He's the one who gave all of us Orange County hos our reputation.  He lives in Money Town; a conversation should be no problem.  Mr. Dunlop and I?  We're neighbors!  I think we even have some mutual friends.  Does anyone know if he has a sense of humor?  Would the man consent to an interview by a non-Money Town resident?  Or do you think not living in Money Town puts me beneath him?  (So to speak ....) 

I know I have a lot of Orange County readers.  If any of you know Scott (I think he likes it better when I call him by his first name), why don't you see what he thinks about being interviewed for Twenty Four At Heart?  

Adam, the advice columnist, went on to let everyone know what to expect an Orange County "housewife" to wear.  His list included, "Anything that looks too easy to remove."  Yes, here in the OC we all wear clothes tailor made for immediate removal.  If Briefcase ever came home and my clothes didn't just fall to the floor upon his arrival he'd be very dismayed.  Apparently, we wear easily removable clothes everywhere we go because Orange County women need sex, everywhere, with everyone, and all the time.  We have lovers by the dozens.

The list goes on.  Besides clothes that are easy to remove, Adam says other clothes "real housewives of Orange County" wear are, "ultrashort, sheer, tight, or plunging, or bare."  How do you wear "bare" clothes?  In addition, Orange County hos wear heavy makeup ... and killer stilettos ... and garish colors.

When I go out shopping?  I search first for garish colors.  If I can't find "bare" clothes, then of course I go for minimal coverage that is easily removable.  And my stilettos?  The killer ones?  I wear them to drive the kids to school, to the beach, when I clean the house, and walk the dogs.  I wouldn't be caught dead without my garish colored, killer, stilettos.

My makeup?  It's not heavy.  Heavy means really a lot of makeup.  Ironically, despite what Adam says I rarely wear more than mascara.  I know women exist in Orange County who wear a lot of makeup, but I would guess that most Orange County women wear less makeup than women in other parts of the country.  It's too warm here.  Who wants it melting off your face?  Most of us are into a more natural look.  (Well, natural as far as makeup, I admit there are not a lot of natural boobs in Orange County!) 

I hate to dispel any Orange County myths, but that's reality as I see it.  I'd really like to chat with Mr. Dunlop Scott and see what he thinks about all the commotion he's caused.  Jeez ... that man has given all of us OC women reputations to live up to. 

 

Mooning the Train

A lot of people think California is "the land of fruits and nuts".  Sure, we have our share of unique individuals just like any place else.  Being a 5th generation native to California, I have noticed that the majority of "extreme" individuals here are not from California at all, but have moved here from ... I don't know, someplace nice and calm like Idaho or Wisconsin.  They just go crazy once they get here.  They're not used to all that sunshine or something.

That being said, we do know how to have our own brand of fun here.  Recently one of my girlfriends decided to celebrate her birthday by joining in on the 29th annual "Amtrak Mooning" day.  Eight thousand (yes, you read that right ... 8,000) people showed up to moon the passing Amtrak trains.  Some of them might have been drinking?

This event started 29 years ago when a patron of the Mugs Away Saloon in Laguna Niguel challenged a few buddies to go moon a passing train.  In exchange he promised to buy them a drink.  It is an unsponsored event, no one is making money off Moon Day except perhaps local businesses from the thirsty/hungry crowds. 

Forget trying to find parking anywhere within miles of this "event"!  This year mooning began at 7:30 in the morning.  Mooners came expecting to moon approximately 40 train passings by the end of that same evening.  Unfortunately, this year the police made everyone disperse around 3:30 in the afternoon. 

This is the first time in the history of the event that the police have had to break up the event early.  It was a disappointment for those who planned to stay for "night mooning" which begins at dark.  For night mooning, please bring your own flashlight or lantern to light up your ass. 

The police broke the event up early because apparently some women started flashing their boobs to the train this year.  Mooning is okay, but tit-flashing isn't.  In addition, a couple guys decided they might as well go completely naked instead of just pulling their pants up and down over and over again everytime a train went by.  Full nudity and tit exposure is not acceptable at a mooning event. 

The police also said there were a lot of drunk people there.  Really?  

Mooning, in itself, is not enough for everyone.  Some people decorate their butts.  Oh yes they do!  On the mooning website the question is asked, "I am overweight, in fact very obese, is it O.K. for me to moon?"  The answer is, "Yes, yes, please 'moon' with us.  We need people like you for the extra high intensity mooning you can provide."  I'm going to repeat that for you, "extra high intensity mooning".  Someone put a lot of thought into that sentence.  

The event also carries a disclaimer which says, in part, "Attending this event may be hazardous due to the high concentration of silly people."  It also states that if you fall and get hurt, "There is no one to sue," and that "the city and railroad would rather you did not bother to come to this event."   The disclaimer also states that there is no insurance covering the event because who would insure an event called "Mooning Amtrak"?   

Not only were there 8,000 folks mooning this year, the normally half-empty trains were packed full for this event.  What's more fun, drinking nonstop on a train while watching people moon you?  Or being a mooner?

The police said the very happy crowd dispersed peacefully when asked to this year.  Next year Mooning Amtrak will be held on July 11th.  Mark your calendars!

We Have a Winner!

I really enjoyed the first Twenty Four At Heart contest!  Readers, you were fantastic!  We have the greatest group of readers on this site.  I really feel lucky (and honored) to have such a great group!  Over 120 great summer songs were listed in the comment section.  In addition, some of you sent lists of songs directly to me through email so I wound up with over 200 song suggestions.  I tried to get back to everyone individually who submitted songs to send my thanks.  If you didn't hear from me, I apologize.  I had a crazier than normal week last week.

First I wrote down all commenters names.  Please notice at the top of the right hand column, one reader entered as "Lurker".  This is just one example why I love my readers!  Not all the names are visible in this picture so don't panic if you don't see yours because every last one was written down.

Then I cut the names onto individual slips of paper.

I put all the names in a hat.  PR mixed the slips of paper around.

Briefcase pulled out a winner.  

And the winner is ....

Congratulations Channah!!!

I will get your $25 iTunes gift card in the mail to you today! 

I enjoyed this contest so much.  I think I will have to pick new themes once in awhile and do it again.  I had so much fun going through the song lists, and listening to some new songs along with many old favorites.  Briefcase may cringe when he sees how many songs I downloaded last week, but I think he's used to it by now.  I didn't download every song (I had a small dose of self control), but I sure downloaded a lot!  There are probably a lot worse things than being married to a music junkie?  

Before we close the summer music topic, I'd like to pass on a couple suggestions for your summer playlist.  One of my favorite summer songs came out about a year ago.  It is Summertime by Bon Jovi.  If you haven't heard it yet, I'm betting you'll like it.  It's one of those catchy tunes that you'll find yourself singing along to.

Another group I am playing a lot this summer is called Rebelution.  They are reggae-ish and if you like Bob Marley, Jimmy Buffett, or music along those lines you will love them.  They are a Southern California band and they're just starting to take off.  I've had them on my iPod for awhile.  Suddenly, in the last few weeks I'm hearing them everywhere.  In fact RC, who is coming up on his senior year in high school, told me Rebelution has been getting a lot of publicity lately with the older teens and college students.  I was surprised.  I think you might like them too!

Thanks again to everyone who entered songs in the contest!  You really are the greatest group of readers I could wish for!  Tomorrow I will be publishing a post that is guaranteed to make you smile - if not laugh out loud!

A Glimpse of Money Town

RC and I ran into Money Town for a few minutes yesterday.  We needed to drop a few things off with a friend.  I had previously received an email from a reader asking for pictures of Money Town.  I didn't have a lot of time yesterday, and I didn't have my zoom lens with me.  I snapped a few photos anyway while I was there.  The problem is, Money Town can't really be captured in a photograph.  The essence of Money Town is in the attitude.

Again, I want to state that there are some very nice people living in Money Town.  We have several friends who live there.  Now that I've written my disclaimer, I will tell you that they are the first to admit that there is a lot to make fun of in Money Town.  The sense of entitlement, the Swinger's Club, the cutthroat need to keep up with neighbors, the materialism, the plastic surgery compulsion, the competitiveness in every aspect of life imaginable are all attributes you can probably also find in other pretentious affluent neighborhoods.  It is all these things which make Money Town what it is.  It is not a mansion, or several, it is not the array of luxury cars ... it is so much more.

I am sure everyone knows that real estate in California is like gold.  In the South, in the Midwest, and in other areas of America people can own acres of land and large homes for a fraction of the cost of a small lot in Southern California.  Even in current economic conditions, housing is expensive here.  I will show you some photos of large homes in Money Town and depending on where you live, they may not look like much to you at all.  To give you an Orange County perspective, first I took some other photos from a neighborhood adjacent to Money Town.

Orange County is a pretty affluent county which is not to say everyone here is wealthy because I'm they're not.  The neighborhoods surrounding Money Town, however, are nice above-average neighborhoods.  Here is a non-Money Town photo of two houses:

   

These two homes are attached by a shared wall.  The car you barely see in the driveway is a Mercedes.  I point that out so you understand that an attached home like this is not inexpensive and is not affordable to everyone here.  There are no yards for kids to play in at these homes.  Also, take a look at the whole street:

 

Every home looks identical.  They are "cookie cutter" homes.  These homes are in a nice Orange County neighborhood.

In contrast, here's a look at one of the landmark homes in Money Town.

Can you even see the house?  It is that little speck at the top of the hill.  Look closely, behind the gates.  Money Town is a gated community, but a lot of the homes, like this one, are gated behind the gates.  Double gated homes - that's a whole separate topic!  The house looks small from a distance, but it's not.  Trust me on that!  (And yes, it's worth many, many millions.)  I believe the property consists of around 130 acres, but don't quote me on that.  It is rare for a home around here to be situated on even half an acre. 

This is a portion of that same home's front yard.  Behind the white fence is the river they built to run through the property.  I, personally, have yet to build myself a river.  But then, I don't live in Money Town either.  Can you see the oranges on the tree in the background?  I bet the butler makes fresh orange juice every morning.

 

This is a small portion of that same property.  These are just a few of the many orange trees in their orchard.  Isn't it nice to know that there are still orange trees growing in Orange County?  Even if they only exist in Money Town?

This is a different home.  These are miniature horses.  There are a lot of horses in Money Town too.  Most of them aren't miniature.  Money Town is a community made up of many separate neighborhoods.  Money Town residents tend to size each other up at parties by asking, "Which Money Town neighborhood do you live in?"  The whole thing makes me throw-up (just a little bit) in my mouth whenever I attend Money Town parties. 

This Money Town home wouldn't fit in one photograph.  I tried, but it is too large.  I have a friend who lives in this Money Town neighborhood.  He is divorced and lives by himself.  Would you want a home too large to fit in a single photograph if you lived by yourself?

Behind all the plants is a Spanish style home.  It has been featured in magazines before. 

Here's a closer look.  Once again, I was not able to fit the entire home in one photograph.

Let's look one more time.  One mile away we have these two homes:

And in Money Town we have this:

I would have needed to take three photographs to capture this home in it's entirety.  I was hoping you'd settle for seeing the front door(s).

Thank you to all of my readers who participated in the music contest!  The winner will be announced in Monday's post.

  

 

Bitch Reflex

I was floating doing my arm rehab in the pool yesterday.  As I floated worked very hard (the Torturer reads my blog) I also did some thinking.  I'm feeling a little out of sorts the last few days.  (Read: bitchy!)  Briefcase is off traveling, but that's nothing new.  TR is spending a few months in Europe studying.  (Really she's partying in every country she can get to.)  RC is in and out a lot this summer.  He's busy working at his job, or vacationing with friends, or socializing.  PR is ... fine.  Everything is just fine and so ho-hum.  So why do I feel like my Bitch Reflex is barely under control and about to emerge any second?

You know what a Bitch Reflex is, right?  When you just want to tear someone's head off, stomp it on the ground and find the next person to do the exact same to.  When you can give a look and that look alone sends quivers down the spine of the recipient.  A strong Bitch Reflex changes your tongue into a lethal weapon delivering words that can do more damage than a gun or a sword.  The Bitch Reflex in all it's uncontrolled glory is quite a sight to behold.

Sometimes hormones bring on a Bitch Reflex.  I wish I could blame the way I've felt lately on hormones, but I can't.  Men have Bitch Reflexes too.  Women don't own the Bitch Reflex, although we may have perfected it.  Maybe it's the heat or the fact we've had some unusual humidity lately?  I'm not used to humidity in Orange County.  Sure, I guess I can blame the weather.  I feel like it wouldn't take much at all to push me into Bitch Reflex land right now.  It might be awhile till I come back.

Or perhaps it's not the weather but the fact that I can't seem to accomplish one single productive thing each day with the kids out of school.  They seem to be running in and out constantly.  Why do I feel the need to be productive in the first place?  Why do they need me to drive them somewhere or pick them up from somewhere every time I start to do anything.  Why is it getting on my nerves so much lately?  Usually I'm okay with it.  

I love summer.  I love the heat; I love having the kids and all their friends around.  I like staying up late each night without the restriction of a 5:30 a.m. alarm to get the school day started.  So why a Bitch Reflex surfacing now?  Could it be post-Hawaii let down?  Taking a vacation the very first week the kids were out of school was great.  Now, however, a lot of hot summer days stretch ahead without anything super exciting to look forward to.  Maybe I just need to plan a cheap weekend getaway or something?

Well, whatever it is ... it is.  I may not be able to pinpoint what the cause is, but I do recognize that it's taking immense willpower to contain the Bitch Reflex.  What makes you cranky?  What revs up your Bitch Reflex?  Also, what snaps you out of it and gets you back to normal?  Anyone have any sure-fire cures for Bitch Reflex?  And please don't say sex ... Briefcase is out of town and I didn't buy Wire Man!

Speaking of Wire Man ....  As an aside to those of you who read yesterday's post.  Last night I could not stop singing The Hammer Song.  I was singing and/or humming it for hours after reading your comments!  You remember it, right?  "If I had a hammer ... I'd hammer in the morning.  I'd hammer in the evening ...." Ha!  

I Found Myself A Boy Toy

Reminder:  The Music Contest which was posted on Monday ends at 7 p.m. Pacific time today.  The winner will receive a $25 iTunes gift card.

Last weekend we went down to Laguna Beach to attend the Wood Chip Sawdust Festival.  I met an attractive man with a hammer for a penis while I was there, but that's just a small part of the story.  Let me start at the beginning.  You need a little background to understand. 

The Sawdust Festival has been taking place in Laguna every summer for the last 42 years.  It is held inland from the beach, outdoors, and consists of approximately 200 booths of Laguna-resident artists selling their wares.  There is a live band playing.  There is also a small selection of food and drink available which, quite honestly, you are better off not consuming.  The last time I went to the Sawdust Festival I was disappointed with what it had to offer.  For some reason I decided to give the festival another try this year. 

Can you say disaster afternoon?  Briefcase and I made the mistake of insisting PR go with us for some "family time".  RC had to work, and TR is away at a study-abroad program for the summer.  What the hell were we thinking?  Never, ever, take a teenager somewhere they don't really want to go because they will make you miserable.  The entire car ride to Laguna was met with angry silence on the part of PR.  Well, except for the two times he criticized Briefcase's choice of music in the car.  (Couldn't blame the kid for that!) 

Traffic is always obscene getting into Laguna, and it is that much worse when the Sawdust Festival is going on.  PR looked at the bumper to bumper traffic stretching for miles ahead of us and stated in that teenage-sarcastic tone, "Well, this is just great fun, isn't it?"

Excuse me for a moment while I strangle my annoying teen.

We eventually arrived, found parking (no small feat) and waited in a long line to pay our $21 to enter.  The moment we walked in, PR looked at the ground and in complete disgust announced, "These are wood chips, where's the sawdust?" 

Um. Who. Cares.

Teenage skepticism being what it is, there was no chance for the Sawdust Festival to redeem itself in PR's eyes after fraudulently advertising sawdust only to deliver wood chips.  Why something as trivial as this can be a big deal to a teen is beyond me.  It is one of those mysteries that only another teen would understand. 

"WTF, can you believe they call it the Sawdust Festival, but there was no sawdust?" 

"No shit?!  Not cool at all!"

Things went steadily downhill from there.  PR has mastered the attitude called sullen lately.  Slumped shoulders, rolling eyes, impatience with everything parental.  He is such a joy to be around sometimes. 

The festival was uncomfortably hot and very crowded. 

The grounds were packed with people unconcerned that they were walking on wood chips and not sawdust.  PR started walking up and down each aisle of booths as fast as possible so we could "be done and get out of here".  

Realistically, even if PR hadn't been with us, I would have once again been disappointed in the Sawdust Festival.  I love cutesy little stuff that I don't really need, but there was nothing there that even interested me.  Well, not initially anyway.

Then, there they were.  Two full size wire sculptures of adult humans.  One of a naked Wire Man and one of a naked Wire Woman.  The female was no big deal.  It just looked like an average Wire Woman.  Is there such a thing?  An average naked Wire Woman?  The Wire Man had a hammer hanging there as it's penis.  A hammer down to it's (his?) knees.  

Can't you picture a full size Wire Man standing in your living room with his (ahem) hammer hanging to his knees?  I would have taken a picture, but the artist who created it wouldn't let me.  He also laughed heartily when he saw PR's horrified face.  

Shortly after we saw the Wire Man, PR announced he didn't "feel good".  There was nothing wrong with PR and I knew it.  He was desperate to escape the festival; he was willing to say anything.  I was done anyway.  It was too hot.  The merchandise was disappointing.  PR was pushing my button's.  After only a short visit, it was time to go. 

Miraculously, PR felt better once we got home.  The instant Briefcase brought up the possibility of buying some new baseball equipment for PR, he felt fine again.  PR prompted his dad, "Yeah, let's go!"  The two of them bolted out of the house in seconds to visit our local sporting goods store. 

I looked around my living room and tried to envision the Wire Man standing in a corner.  He'd be a great conversation piece.  Not to mention that Briefcase travels constantly and it would be nice to have a man in the house.  Especially a man that never talks and is well endowed.  Unfortunately, I think I'll have to pass.  The new boy toy?  I don't think he matches my decor.         

Tag, I'm It!

As a reminder, the Music Contest which was posted on Monday will stay open until 7 p.m. Pacific Time on Wednesday.  You may enter more than once.  You may also list a song that someone else has listed previously.  So far some great song suggestions have been left.  Keep them coming!  The winner will receive a $25 iTunes gift card.

This has been an unusual week for me.  First I was tagged with a meme and then I got an award.  I've posted about them in the opposite order of how they occurred.  There's a reason for this, but I'm not going to explain it because you would read my explanation and still not get it.  My brain works in mysterious ways sometimes. 

Last week my friend Jan, from Jan's Sushi Bar tagged me with this meme.  She said she did so because I am "a good sport"!  Me??  I guess I have Jan fooled.  However, I am always trying to improve myself so, here goes.  My attempt at being a good sport! 

Oh, by the way readers, the rule is that I must answer with only one word.  Is that even possible for me?  No, it is not!  I blow it on my very first answer. 

 1.  Where is your cell phone?  Cleavage/Don'tAsk/LongStory! 

 2.  Your significant other?  Briefcase

 3.  Your hair?  Blonde

 4.  Your mother?  Kind

 5.  Your father?  Eccentric

 6.  Your favorite thing?  MyKids

 7.  Your dream last night?  Wild!OohLaLa!

 8.  Your favorite drink?  RegusciWinery-Cab/MustGoToNapaVeryOverdue!

 9.  Your dream/goal?  BeachHouse

10.  The room you're in?  FamilyRoom

11.  Your hobby?  Blogging

12.  Your fear?  Spiders - ugh!WayTooManyLegs!!!!!

13.  Where do you want to be in 6 years?  Beach

14.  What you're not?  Employed

15.  Muffins?  NoBagels!

16.  One of your wish list items?  Australia

17.  Where you grew up?  SCalif.

18.  The last thing you did?  PR-to-gym

19.  What are you wearing?  Shorts/tee

20.  Favorite gadget?  MyLaptop

21.  Your pets?  2Retrievers

22.  Your computer?  Yes!MineAllMine!

23.  Your mood?  Introspective

24.  Missing someone?  TR/Europe/MissHerLots!!

25.  Your car?  Black!

26.  Something you're not wearing?  Shhh!NotTelling!

27.  Favorite store?  AnyBookstore

28.  Like someone?  Friends

29.  Favorite color?  Green

30.  When was the last time you laughed?  Today

31.  Last time you cried?  PhysicalTherapy

Well, I may have fudged a little on the one word rule.  In turn, I am supposed to tag two bloggers to carry on the meme.  I'm not going to.  Instead, I am going to offer this meme to whoever would like to take it home with them and play with it for awhile!

Come back and visit again tomorrow.  I'll tell you all about the new man in my life!