Stuff You Should Buy Right Now

Laura Geller Blush and Brighten

My mother, product lover like myself, has introduced to me many things. One of them is QVC. I know, I know. HOME SHOPPING REALLY? When my mom first became addicted to home shopping, it didn't always turn out well when you were on the receiving end of one of her more questionable gift purchases. But thankfully, QVC has started carrying higher end cosmetics. Which is how my mom, and subsequently myself, was introduced to Laura Geller Blush and Brighten.

One of her more endearing qualities is my mother's desire to have you try EVERYTHING SHE HAS EVER BOUGHT OR EATEN. So when I was at home for Christmas, she rushed into her bathroom and admonished me to try this product at once. I wasn't exactly sure what I thought of it, until I saw the photos of myself wearing the blush. I had actual visual cheekbones! This is pretty miraculous for someone with a perpetual case of fat face.

I also really love the brush that comes with this product. I am normally not a fan of the brushes that come with blush compacts, but this fold up brush is the perfect applicator. And as my mom, who should work for QVC pointed out, if you would like to have some blush in your purse for touch ups, you can just put some blush on the brush, then twist it down and put the cap on and have it with you in your purse all day without worrying about the product busting up in your purse!

$29.50 at LauraGeller.com or QVC.

J. Crew Broadcloth Scalloped Shell

The perfect thing to wear under suits, or alone. I am IN LOVE with this top, and on sale for $49.99, plus an extra 30% off thru Thursday!

Color Wheel Earrings

The perfect dangly earring. They go with everything, thanks to the broad color palette. And, in spite of their size, they are light as air. My new faves.

$58.00 at Anthropologie.

ShutYourFuckingMeatFace Tee

This week the OAF received a gift from his favorite aunt, Kristabella, emblazoned with his new favorite phrase. Get yours at Kristabella's Bacon Shop for $12.95.

Also note that the OAF is wearing a button to support the St. Baldrick's Foundation, which is also supported by Mr. A's law firm. Learn more about this children's cancer charity here.

What does the future hold? Loads of disappointment. Apparently.

Scene: Friday night dinner, Pei Wei of course, while opening fortune cookies.

Slynnro: What does the future hold?

Mr. A: Only the cookie knows.

(I require people who open fortune cookies in my presence to say this.)

Mr. A: Oh, this is a good one. An actual fortune.

Slynnro: Instead of a platitude?

Mr. A: Yes. ‘Soon you will be sitting on top of the world.”

Mr. A: What does that mean?

Slynnro: You will soon be sitting on the North Pole.

Mr. A: Or perhaps it means soon I will be sitting on top of Mt. Everest.

Mr. A: I’ve read everything there is on Wikipedia about mountains. But still. I don’t feel prepared for this at all.

Slynnro: Yeah, I don’t think so.

Mr. A: I have a piece of information I’m now going to share with you. You probably won’t find this interesting at all. Mt. Everest is actually not the highest point on the surface of the Earth. There is some mountain in the Andes that sits on a plate that makes the base much higher, so even though the mountain is less tall, the peak is actually further from the center of the Earth.

Slynnro: Why do you gotta be like that Pooples? And insult me like that? You assume I don’t care about facts. And mountains. And facts about mountains.

Slynnro: What I really want to know what the highest mountain a celebrity has ever been on. Is there a J. Crew on Mt. Everest? What’s the highest point that an item of J. Crew clothing has ever been? THAT IS WHAT YOU THINK OF ME!

Mr. A: No, I don’t. I’m just protecting myself in case you find that boring.

Slynnro: Whatever Pooples. The only thing I don’t care about at all is space. THE SPACE PROGRAM IS A TOTAL WASTE.

Please do not attempt to convince me of the merits of the space program.

So, what you read up until this point was written on Friday night. On Saturday, Mr. A and myself drove down to Austin to attend the fabulous wedding of Kate and Evan. We spent the evening at the Courtyard Marriott. The following exchange occurred between Mr. A and another elevator rider:

Elevator Occupant: Going to the 11^th floor too? Maybe we will get lucky and this will take us straight to the top!

Mr. A: Hopefully.

Elevator Occupant: Top of the World!

Mr. A: Top of the Marriott Courtyard anyway.

Mr. A is severely disappointed that for once he got an actual honest to goodness fortune (in opposition to the usual platitude), and had it come true in such a disappointing manner.

How I Met Mr. A. At a Location. That HAPPENED TO BE a Bar.

So when I asked for topic suggestions last week, a few of you wanted to know about how Mr. A and I met. If you asked Mr. A, he'd say we met in a bar. Because Mr. A is a fool. Whether or not we "met in a bar" is actually a point of contention between the two of us. How is this possible you ask? Sit back and enjoy the Truly Unromantic Tale of How Slynnro Met Mr. A.

At some point during my first year of law school, I became friends with a girl we'll call Lisa. Finding Lisa in a law school for me was quite a relief. I had a large group of male friends, but only one or two female friends. Lisa and I immediately fell into that kind of best friendship situation you typically have in junior high- IM's during class (all hail wireless internet), ridiculously long telephone conversations. She was the kind of friend you could be super bitchy honest with, which was exactly what I needed at the time. We even shared a mutual crush on a boy who later became known as "The Other Aaron," who was a bit of a hipster bad boy which didn't make a bit of sense for either of us. And yet, we shared a mutual gushy crush on this guy. It was quite safe for the two of us to have this mutual crush because there was basically no way in hell this guy would have ever been interested in either of us. He rode a Vespa, he was highly interested in socialism, and wore skinny jeans. Before people even wore skinny jeans.

I know, it's a bit shocking.

At some point during the summer after 1L year, Lisa began dating a guy we'll call Paul. This is where things started to get a bit messy. You see, Lisa? Is Mr. A's ex-girlfriend. From high school. Paul? At the time was Mr. A's best law school friend. Lisa, Paul, and Mr. A all went to college together. During college, Mr. A and Lisa had some sort of friends with benefits relationship mess, and periodically dated during college. However, by the time Lisa started dating Paul, they were LONG LONG over. To this point, I only knew Mr. A as Lisa's horrific asshole of an ex. To say that Lisa often spoke ill of Mr. A is an understatement to say the least. Not knowing Mr. A at that time, none of this meant much of anything to me.

As Lisa and Paul continued to date, Lisa repeatedly voiced her concern about Mr. A knowing about their relationship. Making that situation worse, at least in her mind, was the fact that Mr. A and his girlfriend broke up around the same time that Lisa and Paul began dating. Lisa, and perhaps to a lesser degree Paul, were apparently convinced Mr. A would not handle the news of their relationship well. Lisa, being a TOTAL FUCKING EGOMANIAC, was convinced that Mr. A still had feelings for her and would apparently fall into a suicidal depression upon learning that she was dating Paul, or anyone for that matter. This was, of course, a total crock of bullshit. But I had no idea.

One fateful Thursday night (THE night to go out in law school), I was IMing with Lisa and Paul, who were both at Lisa’s apartment. They begged me to meet them out, as they had plans to meet up with Mr. A and they wanted me there to distract him from their relationship, which they believed he would be so devastated over.

I was so so not in the mood to go out. I hemmed and hawed and only agreed to meet them due to their relentness IMs and phone calls. Little did I know that would be the night I met my husband.

So I drove downtown and met them at our favorite 6th Street bar, Shakespeare’s. The two of them were already at a table when I arrived, but Mr. A had not yet made an appearance. The three of us ordered a drink and continued to sit and chat. And then in walked Mr. A. And he ran right past us and proceeded to look around the bar for us for a minute or two. We just sat there and watched. I said nothing because I didn’t know him, and Lisa and Paul said nothing because they are kind of jackasses. Lisa remarked that this was so typical. And she’s right. As I would later come to know, Mr. A is not exactly the most adept person and spotting someone in a crowd.

Finally, Mr. A came over to our table. Honestly, at this point, I wasn’t even looking at him as a potential prospect. In fact, I was sort of actively avoiding talking to him. Not because of anything about him, but because I was pretty uncomfortable serving as a distraction from Lisa and Paul’s relationship (about which Mr. A was still ignorant), and recall that up until this night, all I had hear about was Mr. A’s nefarious acts and misdeeds. Cute or not, I was so not interested.

But time went on, and more drinks were consumed. Lisa and Paul would frequently disappear, attempting to force Mr. A and I to talk. I was still pretty uncomfortable with the whole thing, but…how to put this…..Mr. A is pretty much 100% Mr. A all the time. I have no idea if he was even remotely interested in me at this point, but he was being kind of charming in his own Mr. A way. And by that I mean, making odd commentary and being generally aloof. What can I say, he makes it work for himself.

We continued to every UT student’s favorite stop for last call, Logan’s. At this point, Lisa and Paul were fairly intoxicated. And uh, perhaps so were Mr. A and myself. Lisa and Paul began groping each other and making out across the bar from where we were standing. Because he is not blind, Mr. A figured out what was going on between them. We shared a chuckle about that, and things eventually turned flirty between the two of us. And by flirty, I mean, I threw 10s of olives from the bartender station at Mr. A and he was apparently interested enough in me that he pretended not to find that entirely irritating.

At this point, it was getting close to 2 a.m., and we realized that Lisa and Paul had completely ditched us. Mr. A, being the smooth operator that he is, suggested we go to a restaurant called Player’s (no, really) and get cheesesticks. So that’s what we did. At 2 a.m., we sat at Player’s and ate cheesesticks. Or rather, Mr. A ate cheesesticks. This presented a convenient opportunity for me to inform Mr. A about my distaste for cheese. I’m always glad to get that out of the way early in relationships, as it is always a controversial issue. Knowing Mr. A and his love for cheese as I do now, I am actually sort of surprised he ever pursued dating me. But he did.

Nothing more happened that night, we went home to our respective apartments. I went to bed, and Mr. A? Well, he sent an email to Lisa, which she immediately forwarded to me, that will live in infamy:

“I actually genuinely liked your friend, who I couldn't help but feel was being thrust upon me as some sort of big-breasted distraction. Also for the record, we did not hook up although I wouldn't mind calling her.”

Yes, that is what Mr. A called me. A “big breasted distraction.”

And I still agreed to go on a date with him the following week. Thankfully, it turned out okay.

But that leaves us with the point of contention I mentioned earlier in this post. Mr. A likes to claim we met in a bar. Mr. A is mistaken. In my opinion, “meeting in a bar” means you were two random people, at a bar, who met. It does not mean that you were two people who met mutual friends in a location that happened to be a bar and subsequently decided to date. Tell me I’m right. BECAUSE I AM.

How I Met Mr. A. At a Location. That HAPPENED TO BE a Bar.

So when I asked for topic suggestions last week, a few of you wanted to know about how Mr. A and I met. If you asked Mr. A, he'd say we met in a bar. Because Mr. A is a fool. Whether or not we "met in a bar" is actually a point of contention between the two of us. How is this possible you ask? Sit back and enjoy the Truly Unromantic Tale of How Slynnro Met Mr. A.

At some point during my first year of law school, I became friends with a girl we'll call Lisa. Finding Lisa in a law school for me was quite a relief. I had a large group of male friends, but only one or two female friends. Lisa and I immediately fell into that kind of best friendship situation you typically have in junior high- IM's during class (all hail wireless internet), ridiculously long telephone conversations. She was the kind of friend you could be super bitchy honest with, which was exactly what I needed at the time. We even shared a mutual crush on a boy who later became known as "The Other Aaron," who was a bit of a hipster bad boy which didn't make a bit of sense for either of us. And yet, we shared a mutual gushy crush on this guy. It was quite safe for the two of us to have this mutual crush because there was basically no way in hell this guy would have ever been interested in either of us. He rode a Vespa, he was highly interested in socialism, and wore skinny jeans. Before people even wore skinny jeans.

I know, it's a bit shocking.

At some point during the summer after 1L year, Lisa began dating a guy we'll call Paul. This is where things started to get a bit messy. You see, Lisa? Is Mr. A's ex-girlfriend. From high school. Paul? At the time was Mr. A's best law school friend. Lisa, Paul, and Mr. A all went to college together. During college, Mr. A and Lisa had some sort of friends with benefits relationship mess, and periodically dated during college. However, by the time Lisa started dating Paul, they were LONG LONG over. To this point, I only knew Mr. A as Lisa's horrific asshole of an ex. To say that Lisa often spoke ill of Mr. A is an understatement to say the least. Not knowing Mr. A at that time, none of this meant much of anything to me.

As Lisa and Paul continued to date, Lisa repeatedly voiced her concern about Mr. A knowing about their relationship. Making that situation worse, at least in her mind, was the fact that Mr. A and his girlfriend broke up around the same time that Lisa and Paul began dating. Lisa, and perhaps to a lesser degree Paul, were apparently convinced Mr. A would not handle the news of their relationship well. Lisa, being a TOTAL FUCKING EGOMANIAC, was convinced that Mr. A still had feelings for her and would apparently fall into a suicidal depression upon learning that she was dating Paul, or anyone for that matter. This was, of course, a total crock of bullshit. But I had no idea.

One fateful Thursday night (THE night to go out in law school), I was IMing with Lisa and Paul, who were both at Lisa’s apartment. They begged me to meet them out, as they had plans to meet up with Mr. A and they wanted me there to distract him from their relationship, which they believed he would be so devastated over.

I was so so not in the mood to go out. I hemmed and hawed and only agreed to meet them due to their relentness IMs and phone calls. Little did I know that would be the night I met my husband.

So I drove downtown and met them at our favorite 6th Street bar, Shakespeare’s. The two of them were already at a table when I arrived, but Mr. A had not yet made an appearance. The three of us ordered a drink and continued to sit and chat. And then in walked Mr. A. And he ran right past us and proceeded to look around the bar for us for a minute or two. We just sat there and watched. I said nothing because I didn’t know him, and Lisa and Paul said nothing because they are kind of jackasses. Lisa remarked that this was so typical. And she’s right. As I would later come to know, Mr. A is not exactly the most adept person and spotting someone in a crowd.

Finally, Mr. A came over to our table. Honestly, at this point, I wasn’t even looking at him as a potential prospect. In fact, I was sort of actively avoiding talking to him. Not because of anything about him, but because I was pretty uncomfortable serving as a distraction from Lisa and Paul’s relationship (about which Mr. A was still ignorant), and recall that up until this night, all I had hear about was Mr. A’s nefarious acts and misdeeds. Cute or not, I was so not interested.

But time went on, and more drinks were consumed. Lisa and Paul would frequently disappear, attempting to force Mr. A and I to talk. I was still pretty uncomfortable with the whole thing, but…how to put this…..Mr. A is pretty much 100% Mr. A all the time. I have no idea if he was even remotely interested in me at this point, but he was being kind of charming in his own Mr. A way. And by that I mean, making odd commentary and being generally aloof. What can I say, he makes it work for himself.

We continued to every UT student’s favorite stop for last call, Logan’s. At this point, Lisa and Paul were fairly intoxicated. And uh, perhaps so were Mr. A and myself. Lisa and Paul began groping each other and making out across the bar from where we were standing. Because he is not blind, Mr. A figured out what was going on between them. We shared a chuckle about that, and things eventually turned flirty between the two of us. And by flirty, I mean, I threw 10s of olives from the bartender station at Mr. A and he was apparently interested enough in me that he pretended not to find that entirely irritating.

At this point, it was getting close to 2 a.m., and we realized that Lisa and Paul had completely ditched us. Mr. A, being the smooth operator that he is, suggested we go to a restaurant called Player’s (no, really) and get cheesesticks. So that’s what we did. At 2 a.m., we sat at Player’s and ate cheesesticks. Or rather, Mr. A ate cheesesticks. This presented a convenient opportunity for me to inform Mr. A about my distaste for cheese. I’m always glad to get that out of the way early in relationships, as it is always a controversial issue. Knowing Mr. A and his love for cheese as I do now, I am actually sort of surprised he ever pursued dating me. But he did.

Nothing more happened that night, we went home to our respective apartments. I went to bed, and Mr. A? Well, he sent an email to Lisa, which she immediately forwarded to me, that will live in infamy:

“I actually genuinely liked your friend, who I couldn't help but feel was being thrust upon me as some sort of big-breasted distraction. Also for the record, we did not hook up although I wouldn't mind calling her.”

Yes, that is what Mr. A called me. A “big breasted distraction.”

And I still agreed to go on a date with him the following week. Thankfully, it turned out okay.

But that leaves us with the point of contention I mentioned earlier in this post. Mr. A likes to claim we met in a bar. Mr. A is mistaken. In my opinion, “meeting in a bar” means you were two random people, at a bar, who met. It does not mean that you were two people who met mutual friends in a location that happened to be a bar and subsequently decided to date. Tell me I’m right. BECAUSE I AM.

Why You Should Be Watching The Dish with Danielle Fishel.

(Yes, that's Topanga if you weren't sure)

If you were watching The Dish, like I have repeatedly admonished you to do, you'd already know about the horrifying phenomenon that is Baby Bangs:

Yes, a fucking TOUPEE. FOR BABIES. Because you should really try and fuck up your daughter's self image as early as possible, and it's hard to teach anorexia to infants.

(But seriously....watch The Dish. Funniest thing on TV. Or at least the Style Network.)

What Happens When Losers Go to the Grocery Store on Saturday Night.

After devouring yummy burgers from Twisted Root, getting into a stupid argument, and Mr. A watching UT's heartbreaking loss to Duke last night, we decided to go to the grocery store. At 10:30 p.m. Because we are lame. And have no friends. *

And just to stir things up, we decided to take a special friend. Just to see what happened. And also because Mommy needed some new blog material ASAP.


What happened was people really seemed to enjoy his presence. Of course, this could have something to do with the fact that most people there were not doing grocery shopping, but instead making their way to the refrigerated wine cave, after perhaps already enjoying some alcoholic beverages. Perhaps a little Boone's Farm?

The Strawberry flavor really compliments Sour Cream 'n Cheddar chips.

Which reminds me of a funny story about my old secretary, who claimed to have never been drunk until her 50th birthday. Where she proceeded to get wasted on Boone's Farm, which really, quite apropos. Isn't that what most people drink the first time? Then she decided she was a wine connoisseur. So I asked what her favorite wine was. Her response? That blue one, coconut? Yes, Boone's Farm blue coconut is her favorite wine. I know I am a lame old teetotaler who never drinks, but this made me feel good about myself and my lack of wine knowledge and consumption.

Unrelated, but what exactly does diamond powder smell like, Olay? Money? Cocaine?

I also managed to find a cake that I AM TOTALLY SUBMITTING to Cake Wrecks:

It's a GIANT FONDANT COVERED CAKE CROSS PEOPLE! GIANT FONDANT COVERED CAKE CROSS. What better way to honor good ol' J. C. than with a GIANT FONDANT COVERED CAKE CROSS?

*Note, I do in fact have friends, but I did too much socializing during the week. Meeting up with friends! Two whole times! And my very own happy hour in my honor at work! Exhausting. Also, I am mentally 65.

No, this isn't a good post. But it is A post. That's something, right?

Okay, so thanks for your suggestions. I will be responding to them soon! First up, the SO NOT ROMATICAL story of Mr. A's and my early courtship.

BUT ON TO MORE PRESSING MATTERS....

Am I the only fully grown adult who is still completely uncomfortable with changing clothes at the gym? Because I refuse to be SANS UNDERPANTS in front of women I don't know. Actually, in front of people I do know for that matter. Guess what, female friends? I have no desire to see your private parts, not even incidentally. I wasn't raised in a NAKED HOUSE (this is a quote from some movie or tv show....WHAT IS IT? IT IS DRIVING ME NUTS!)

And yet, I feel so juvenile heading to the handicapped stall with my gym bag. But then, when I spotted an entirely naked woman leaning down putting on some socks, and caught her boobs at a most disturbing angle, I kind of decided that maybe I'm not the one who should be ashamed.

Which brings me to another issue....handicapped stalls. In all my years as a bathroom goer, I have never ever once seen a handicapped person use a handicapped stall. I've always used them. But recently a friend told me she has been accosted twice over this practice. Really? I am of the opinion that these stalls are not RESERVED for handicapped persons, but instead made to ACCOMODATE handicapped persons. Am I incorrect in this belief?

(not sure what the deal is with the comments, but if you click on the post title and wait a sec, the comments are available.....grrrrr.)

Oh, hi. My blog sucks

No, it's okay.

You don't have to say that...

No. I know.

I'm trying.

It's just that....my life is boring right now, ya know?

No inspiration!

So yeah, things have been sucking around these parts lately. And there's no mental end in sight. My life is pretty blah lately. Which isn't to say it's bad, but not particularly funny either. I'm really fresh out of ideas.

HELP!

Anyone, ideas? Something you'd like to see me write? A product you'd like me to sample? More Ask Slynnro questions? Leave them in the comments.

OR THE BLOG DIES.

Or at least continues to suck for that much longer...

EDITED TO ADD: If you are having issues with the comments (which I am at least), please send an email to Slynnro @ gmail.com. I really do need your ideas!

Scenes From A Trip to Austin: Vegetarians Are Weird Edition

Scene: Z. Tejas, Austin. Saturday night.

Heather: You know, Susan, I always thought you were saying empire (pronounced um-peer) waist wrong until I read it Stylista.

Susan: I may be pretentious, but I am saying it right.

Slynnro: You know, I was never sure because I heard it so many different ways from so many different sources. I usually just say "Ya know, the waist that starts right here." (Slynnro uses her hands, indicating a line just below the bustline)

. . . . .

Heather: Ugh.....I forgot how full eating meat makes you feel. I feel full all the way up here (Using her hands to indicate just below the bustline).

Slynnro: Meat. It fills you to the empire waist.

Yes. I actually said that. And no one even made a penis joke. And I thought I knew these people.

Chris: Personally, my steak salad has ME full to the scarf.

Effing Snaggletooth, AGAIN?

It happened again today. It pops up irregularly, taking with it my self esteem.

"You look like....what'shername.....the chick from Spiderman?"

"Kirsten Dunst?"

"Yeah, Kirsten Dunst!"

PEOPLE. I DO NOT LOOK LIKE FREAKING KIRSTEN DUNST.

You will notice the distinct LACK of vampire teeth on my part, and the lack of Medieval Times crown on hers.

Others I often get......

Zooey Deschanel

Which, I wish! But I'll take it-she's fucking adorable.

Parker Posey

Again, I wish. But NOT offensive.

So, who are the people that people tell you YOU look like? Offensive or otherwise? But being me, I prefer the offensive ones obvs.

Ah yes, I have a blog.

Soooooooooooooo.....do you miss me yet? I miss you! I miss the blog world! I miss having extra time to catch up with you all. I miss having a moment to check my email and Twitter. I really miss knowing for certain I was going home at 5:00.

But the new job is great. I have not yet met one person that I immediately disliked. People! This is miraculous! I can't walk outside of my apartment without finding at least 5 despicable people.

Take for example what enraged me the other day. I was leaving the gym and the exit is near a busy street, which has cars parked up and down, blocking your view of oncoming traffic. Not much of a problem, you simply have to pull out a bit into the street to look around the parked cars. Most people recognize this and slow down near the gym exit, especially because there is traffic light approximately 100 yards past the gym exit. BUT NOT THE ASSHOLE I ENCOUNTERED NO! Instead, he slowed down to a near stop while his car was directly in front of mine, not to allow me to exit. NO! But instead to point his finger at me and scold me for pulling my car out. WOW! Someone who is quicker to anger than I? Now that's impressive. Never one to back down from a challenge, when I found myself directly next to him at the next stoplight, I stared at him from my car until he noticed me and wagged my finger right back. The look of shock on his face was worth the potential risk of him shooting me in the face.*

Immediately following this little incident, I went to Walgreen's in order to buy some Prilosec, which is apparently a controlled substance as it is now kept under lock and key like the razors. I set off to find a Walgreen's employee in order to gain access to the precious Prilosec.

"Hi! I need to get access to a medication."

"Whatchu talking 'bout access to medication? You need medication, you go to the pharmacy."

Seriously, bitch, seriously? You work at Walgreen's. By now you should have probably noticed that there is medication besides that which lies inside the confines of the pharmacy. In fact, DARE I SAY the majority of the medication in Walgreen's is not in the pharmacy.

So, yeah, these are the kind of people I hate. And none of them work at my new job.

I can't really talk about what I do, but let's just say it's a hell of a lot more like the kind of lawyering you see on tv than my last job. It is quite exciting, but quite stressful, with never a moment of rest all day. So 8 hours go by pretty damn fast, but by the time I get home, I'm pretty mentally dead. Hopefully once I stop expending this much mental energy to do everyday tasks that I am just not yet used to, I will have more energy for blogging soon!

In the mean time, I have some exciting plans coming up! This weekend, I am heading down to Austin to meet up with Heather B, Susan and I'm not even sure who else for SXSW. Will any of you be there?

And at the end of the month, I will be back in Austin again to hang out with Maggie and Mojito Maven at Kate's wedding. Speaking of, I'm so excited and proud of myself. I made miy own little Dallas clique composed of these 3 lovely ladies! All on my own! We even have a tradition- Champagne Thursday at Cru. Sadly, I've lived here for three years without getting a new group of girlfriends. I am very pleased.

And lastly, Mr. A and I have booked ourselves a vacation to the location we were supposed to visit last year before Mr. A changed jobs and altered our plans. Hello, Four Seasons Great Exuma! We aren't going until September, but as Mr. A says, a vacation to look forward to is necessary to maintain my mental health. I am also quite excited that upon alerting the resort to my gluten free diet in the special requests on our reservation, the hotel immediately contacted me about accommodating my special needs. Hooray fancy resorts!

So that's what's new with me....what's up with you?

*Um, yeah, it was actually a 70 year old man driving a Lexus. I wasn't exactly brave here.

A Timely Post to Follow Mr. A on Finance

Even I, world's biggest product snub, have some drugstore faves. Check them out at Blissfully Domestic!

Mr. A Guest Post No. 2- Mr. A on Finance?

Q: HOW FUCKED DO WE BE?
A: WELL AND TRULY.

Admit it: things are not looking so hot these days. The US economy is in freefall, and our fiscal woes are metastasizing like a cancer around the globe. With each passing day, more people lose their jobs, their homes, and their belief that life is just going to go on as usual. I spent 10 minutes yesterday browsing the business sections of the major on-line news pages, and came across the following bits of good cheer (along with my thoughts in italics):

- The DOW Jones Industrial Average fell below 6800 on Monday, the lowest point in 12 years and a whopping 52% drop from the October 2007 high (Everyone reading this who is under 50 should say a silent thanks to whomever you think is listening that you haven’t had to watch your retirement plans dissolve over the last 12 months. If your parents are close to retirement and were the investment portfolio types, give them a call and tell them you feel for them)

- General Motors Corp. has reported that its U.S. light-vehicle sales fell 53% in February, while Ford Motor Co.’s declined 48% and Chrysler LLC’s fell 44%. Proving that the woes are not confined to traditional Detroit powerhouses, Japan’s Toyota Motor Corp. reported a 40% decline. The world’s automakers posted their worst collective month in over 25 years in February. (So, to be clear, GM, Ford, Chrysler and Toyota are all in varying degrees of meltdown. Volvo and Saab, the Swedish arms of Ford and GM , respectively, are in a bad ways as well, and may end up being sold – although there is concern over their ability to survive at all as true independents. I have nothing more to say on this other than that it is pretty fucked up)

- US-based international insurance giant AIG has reported a loss of $61.7 billion for the final fiscal quarter of 2008, the largest quarterly loss in history. The news of the staggering loss came just one day after the U.S. Treasury Department confirmed that AIG was to receive an additional $30 billion in federal aid, on top of the $150 billion it received in 2008. The US Treasury Department has suggested that it is unwilling to allow AIG to fail under any circumstances for fear it would “cripple the global financial system” (I am sympathetic to a certain degree with concerns that tax-payer and foreign debt funded bailout funds are simply being frittered away on executive bonuses and haphazard attempts to right sinking ships, but AIG insures everything. AIG probably insures gravity. If AIG goes belly up, I am buying a gun and a cabin in the Ozarks. I am only sort of joking. It would be like the end of Ghostbusters)

Aside from being scary and morbidly fascinating, what does all this terrible news actually mean? While I know that LOTS of folks have lost their jobs and are really struggling just to get by, I can’t speak for anyone other than myself and the people I know. I am still employed, and so is Slynnro (newly employed in fact), and we aren’t struggling with getting the bills paid. Still - I have to be honest – business is not good. Every day the air of tension in my office seems to ratchet a little bit higher. My co-workers and I spend far more hours than we would like doing, well, nothing (aside from browsing the grim headlines and wondering when things will pick up again, when the phones will resume ringing). In the interest of full disclosure, my company has already engaged in lay-offs (although on a limited scale) and initiated an across-the-board salary freeze for 2009 (in part to avoid engaging in more extensive lay-offs). The scary thing is that those measures are not uncommon these days in the industry and my employer is doing as well or better than the majority of its competitors. So, while I certainly can’t call myself a victim of the economy at this point, I am definitely one of the legions of people who worry that I will eventually become one. I also know several people who have lost their jobs, and none of them have any real sense as to when they will be employed again.

I certainly don’t have any answers to the current economic debacle, and, like most people, I have no real control over the vast economic trends which determine the fate of my job and my investments. So, I try to compensate in other ways. Since I am naturally thrifty (some might say cheap – although I suspect that the word is going to become less pejorative in the coming months), my first instinct is to try and cut spending, the logic I suppose being that if things keep getting worse and I find myself without gainful employment, I would prefer to have as much money saved up as possible when that happens. So, today I packed a lunch and brought it with me to work (a bagel sandwich, a bag of pretzels and a yogurt, if you must know). Nothing huge, I know, but it feels good to take even such a relatively meager step. Maybe I just want to be able to tell myself that I am not totally powerless – that I can do more than just worry, even if it accomplishes nothing more than saving $50-60 a month (yes, I have figured it out).

And now, a little bit of a rant. I live in an absurd little bubble of new wealth and leased extravagance. I like certain things about it quite a bit, and I certainly don’t mind having the means to live where I do, but from time to time it still makes me a little sick to my stomach. Everyone in our building, and in the buildings around it, is young and has some money, whether by virtue of a job as a doctor or lawyer or accountant or banker or a rich mommy and daddy. The parking garage is thick with the gleaming badges and sleek contours of BMW and Lexus and Porsche and Range Rover and Yukon. I suspect that few, if any, of our neighbors are feeling the crunch yet – and many of them probably never will. Still, the thing that simultaneously frightens and infuriates me is that I know that many of the blissfully prosperous young professionals that I pass in the halls each morning are totally unprepared for any sort of actual economic adversity. If they lost there jobs, the cost of their inflated rent and over reaching lease payment and student loan payments and myriad other expenses would quickly become an anchor around their neck. They don’t SAVE. They just spend and spend and spend. Where is it written that you aren’t supposed to give a shit about planning for the future until you can see 40 on the horizon? Where is it written that we are all somehow guaranteed every material thing that we want, and that so long as we have enough money to eat and keep the lights on at the end of the month, we are being fiscally responsible? It honestly drives me crazy.

Ok, enough of me chattering. I leave you with some questions:

Have the tentacles of this ever-growing economic implosion reached out and touched you, and if so, in what ways? Do you lose sleep over the future, or do you still feel secure?

Have you taken any specific steps to change you lifestyle or spending habits? Why or why not?

* Author’s Note: I know this was kind of heavy, so I promise that Friday’s post will be thoroughly stupid and (hopefully) funny, with no mention whatsoever of current events. I am not all doom and gloom.

Mr. A Guest Post One: Your Questions Answered

It is I, Mr. A! You asked for me, and now you have got me (for about a week at least). I have pledged to produce a minimum of three posts while Slynnro is otherwise occupied assimilating herself into her exciting new workplace. Excited? I am! I hope to provide a refreshing (albeit brief) change of pace around here. I have long been the proverbial barbarians at the gates, but now, inexplicably, Slynnro has offered me the keys to the city and you have all lined up to welcome me with cheese and wine.I thought a good first post would be to address the topics which you, Slynnro’s loyal devotees, have suggested thus far (I am aware that some of these were likely suggested purely in jest):

1. I would like to hear what Mr. A is coveting, where he likes to shop and his fave hair and skin products.

Where to begin. Assuming you mean “covet” in the traditional material sense (and not in the, uh, biblical, sense), not much. I like sunglasses, and since I tend to be unable to keep any one pair for more than 6 months at a time, I periodically have to buy new ones. I like cool t-shirts as well, and once or twice a year I feel the urge to buy some new jeans. I already own a snazzy plasma TV, but eventually I am sure I will feel the urge to acquire another one for the bedroom. The bottom line is, most of the things I would really love to have are either totally infeasible or quite literally impossible (suits of armor, an otter, a great horned owl, a tank, a real-life Wall-e, a life-size Predator statue, a vampire, etc.) As you might guess from the foregoing, I don’t really like to shop – although I will gladly wander for hours in any of the following (1) a book store, (2) a sporting goods store or (3) a toy store (which confirms that I am essentially an enormous, very well read child). I strongly dislike stores of the sort that only sell clothes, and the more expensive the clothes are, the stronger my distaste grows. So, as you might imagine, I am a BLAST to stroll a mall with. With regards to hair and skin products, I enjoy Pert Plus (it is a revolutionary product that combines shampoo AND conditioner, look for its stylish green bottle), as well as Head & Shoulders. I am also known to throw on some Old Spice body wash, which I like because it is cheap and comes in gigantic thermos-esque bottles. That is about as sophisticated as I get on my own, although recently Slynnro has, through sheer tenacity, convinced me to make use of a variety of face washes, astringents and moisturizers. I am told that I am much less hideous than I used to be as a result, specifically in terms of my overall pore size. Honestly, I still pine for the days when I spent 4 hours a day in a pool and all anyone expected of me was to scrub myself head to toe with caustic chlorine-removing shampoo/body-wash. Grooming was a lot easier when people were just happy that your hair wasn’t green. *sigh*

2. Personally, I'd like to hear Mr. A's take on J. Crew, the spring collection and what trends he foresees for fall.

I wished I owned J. Crew, because then I would be filthy f*cking rich (Slynnro note: Or just have a fair amount of his money back). This Spring, I think J. Crew is going to throw the women of America a serious curveball and roll out a line of S&M themed pieces (leather masks and latex bodysuits, yet somehow made appropriate for a night out or the workplace). For the Fall, I think the hot look will be Joan of Ark inspired (get excited about chain mail!)

All snark aside, I don’t mind J. Crew because the men’s clothes are pretty durable (unlike the Gap) and actually fit me (unlike Banana Republic, where the XL concept is just a sick joke).

3. Okay, Mr. A, I'm a sappy romantic so I want to know how you knew Slynnro was the one. Spill it!! Please?

Sadly, I already ran aground on the treacherous little question when Slynnro put it to me in private. Some men may actually have a coherent answer to this question. These are the sorts of men that other men loathe. Honestly, I can’t point to a single moment, no stunning romantic epiphany involving a sunset or a tender kiss or a dinner on a hot-air balloon. All I can say is that she IS the one, and I take secret delight in the surprising variety of ways in which I am constantly reminded of that fact. To wit, sometimes I leave Slynnro little notes (with messages that are far too steeped in our peculiar little lingo to be reproduced without serious embarrassment here). The notes are just scribbled lines on unremarkable slips of paper, yet she collects and keeps them. Or, very recently, she got us tickets to the King Tut(ankamen) exhibit at the local Museum of Art, which I loved (because I am a freak for any sort of ancient history), and she could really care less about.* Sounds mundane, but that is what love really is on a real world, day-to day basis.

4. Please Mr. A? We'd love to hear what you have to say!

Trust me, I have plenty to say. Check back on Wednesday.

*That's not entirely true. Probably not something I would have just gone to on my own, but I'm human. I dig ancient Egypt too.

Nervous Tummy TO THE MAX.

Mr. A has promised me at least 3 posts this week. What they are about remains a big surprise, but he claims the first post will be ready for publication on Tuesday!

In the mean time, I'm getting pretty effing nervous about tomorrow and starting the new job. I'm not normally one to beg for comments, but if I checked my email tomorrow (from the bathroom of course) and found some encouraging words from you people, I know it would be extra sweet!

And now I'm off to steam my suit. Which I suspect is something I will sadly be doing every night.

Oh, and P.S. I'm going....how about you?