May We Never Forget

Time passes on. It's been 11 years, but still the words come no easier today than they did 11 years ago as we watched unspeakable horrors unfold on our television screens.

The single most violent act to occur on American soil by a foreign intruder.

Yesterday, I asked work what we would do to recognize today... we recognize most other holidays with our staff . I was responded to with, "Why? What's tomorrow?" Another co-worker said, "Oh, it's too morbid..."

As I sit here this morning typing this out, I'm still in shock that those were the responses I received. Granted, many of my employees are young, were probably in grade school when this tragic act occurred. But, isn't that all the more reason to teach them respect, honor, and make sure we are living up to the commitment to never forget?

We all made a commitment to never forget. But are we living up to it? Today, I challenge you to take a moment to do more than just watch the news and the memorial shows. Thank a first responder or member of the military, member of a flight crew for the jobs they do.

Do not let the memory only live on with those that were involved. Use it as a teaching opportunity the the youth of this country what true Patriotism is. May the never have to know the horrors of our generation, and may they never forget what this country has gone through to give them the freedoms they take for granted.

Why I Support Chick-Fil-A

WARNING: What is about to follow will be an unedited stream of conciseness. I am sure I will ramble. I will not go back and proof. This is to prevent over thinking of the message I want you to hear. I know some of you are my journalist friends, some of you were grammar/English scholars. If you think it will make your palms too twitchy, stop now. ;)

Today's the day that has the social media world in an up-roar. The day everyone decides whether or not they will support Chick-Fil-A. Why? Because Truett Cathey is a Christian. He runs his restaurant chain based on his personal beliefs. SHAME ON HIM! Really?! That's what you believe? That's the best you have for why you don't want to partake in the deliciousness that is Chick-Fil-A? Have you ever had one of their sandwiches? It is (in my humble opinion), the best fast food chicken sandwich to be had. And, I should know... The two years I spent as a travelling sales rep, I spent an average of 180 days a year on the road eating non-home cooked meals and plenty of fast food.

This is what's wrong with politics in America these days. We boycott and support organizations for what's "politically correct". We need to stop being "Policitally Correct" and go back to governing our lives with common sense.

Let me impart some of my life experience on you... yes, it's limited. But here goes. I was 16 when I had my daughter. I went to a Christian college. I had a decent social life, but there were many who thought of me as an outcast or a lost cause because of the choice I made to bring her into this world. I could have crawled into a ball and said, "Oh no, the Christian Right is a terrible thing." You know what I did instead? I embraced it. (SIDEBAR... some of the people that perpetrated the above mentioned acts were not "right winged conservatives" but were "leftists"... surely I'm not the only person to be outcast by BOTH parties?!)

I'm a stronger person because of it. I sat in bible classes with professors who said I would burn in hell because not only had I had a child out of wedlock, but I was raised in a religion that learned the Rosary and prayed to graven images. I was called Satan (literally) by a person in a friend's church (during the church ceremony... nice). The next Sunday I was afraid to touch the Holy Water in my own church for fear it would boil... it did not and my Priest and I had a good laugh over it.

Did these experiences hurt as they happened? Yes. Do I hold it against the people that perpetrated them? No. I would not be who I am if these experiences had not happened. And, whatever you want to call it God, Allah, Fate, the power of the moon & sun upon my earthly being... there is a reason I had those experiences.

It gave me a perspective not to judge others regardless of if their choices were what I agreed with or not. It made me stong enough to be a successful business person. It has made me a successful mentor to various employees, associates, etc. I wouldn't take any of it back if I were given the choice.

It shouldn't be a surprise that the Cathey family holds these values. They are closed on Sundays. Their website says they are closed to allow employees time with friends and/or family to do as they wish, worship or not. Other companies closed on Sundays? Hobby Lobby, many auto-dealerships and liquor stores, most bridal businesses, florists, doctors offices, banks, government locations. There's an idea... let's boycott the welfare office because it isn't there on Sundays to issue food stamps to the person driving a Cadillac Escalade with $500 rims, toting the latest $300 Coach bag and sporting some kick-ass Nike's she paid full price for.

I'd never do that you say? That's my point.

Yes. I'll have a Chicken Sandwich today. Not because I give two hoots about Mr. Cathey's personal belief, but because I'll be in the mall. And a #7 grilled chicken sandwich with a side of yogurt instead of fries and some diet lemonade is the healthiest choice I'll have available. The manager behind the counter sees me coming and has it wrung up by the time I get there, because working in retail she sees me at her counter multiple times a week and she knows that's my standing order. I'll eat Chick-Fil-A today because I can afford to spend $8.67 on my lunch, I appreciate their customer service, and dog-gonnit nobody is going to tell me I can't!

Miracles do Happen: I Ran a Mile Today. And I'm Still Alive.

I've blogged before about my on-going struggles against my body. We have a love/hate relationship. You see, my inner goddess is fairly certain I'm still a size 2... while my actual body that the general public sees every day is more along a size 14. EEK! I've publicly admitted my arse is large. Next step, do something about it.

See, that's where I have issues. The doing something about it. For so long I've been content to live my life by this:

But, over the course of the past month I've been working with a personal trainer. The inches are slowly starting to drop down (maybe they'd be a little quicker if the hubs would stop bringing cookies into the house. Damn his speedy metabolism and my unwillingness to have any self control)!

So, after meeting a friend for coffee this morning, I had some free time before heading to work. I thought this would be a perfect time to log a quick run. "What? Someone your size can actually move at a quick pace," you say. Yeah, I'll deal with your smart mouth later... it's amazing how I know how snarky my reading audience is, isn't it?

Anyway back on topic: I changed, I went outside and I ran a few blocks. Then I hacked up a lung and walked a few blocks, then repeated the whole process multiple times.  I'm fairly certain more than one neighbor may have thought either a wild animal was dying outside or they should call 911 because an escaped mental patient in work out clothes was dying by their house. I actually logged a mile. I know, I know... that's not much to most of my friends who routinely run anywhere from a 5K to a marathon but come on, you know me. You know that in my mind exercise is right up there with unmedicated childbirth... an absolute unnecessary concept in this world of "give me a pill or medical intervention to make the pain, fat stop"!

So, while I"m still not this woman:

And I probably never will be... I am actually making it past the end of my driveway and turning back around for cinnamon rolls. And in my world, that's a pretty big accomplishment.

Toddler Man Plots his Take-Over

I may look cute and innocent,
but I will rule the world someday.

Toddler Man's vocabulary has been expanding rapidly recently. He's starting to string together sentences. He has named his piggy bank (a pig in a football helmet and jersey) "Tim"... apparently even at two he's a Tebow fan. He can string together a rather remedial sentence telling us we'll stay at home or do this or that... He knows football player's names.... but he has an odd hang up with his own family.

He will not, under any circumstance, call his brother by his name. He also will not call the dog anything other than "dog." I have a theory... albeit a rather disturbing one:

You see, Toddler Man, is quite the feisty 2-year-old. I'm fairly certain he's set upon World Denomination (picture Baby Stewy from Family Guy, minus weapons). The two creatures he tries his evilry out upon most often are his brother and the dog. I think he's willing to name anything else on the planet, but the things he wishes to destroy are required to remain nameless so the guilt doesn't wrack his little toddler conscience.

So, if you run into us and he's perfectly willing to explain to you who his favorite Manning is (Yes, he can differentiate between Peyton, Eli, and even Archie) but he refuses to call you anything other than "dis," I'd suggest you take cover. 

Toddler Child the Tattoo Artist

My house is slowly turning blue. And pink. A little bit of purple.  And any other color Toddler Child can get his little hands on. I keep throwing away markers, but alas the child has already mastered some fierce ninja skills and somehow manages to find more.

It's not just markers. Oh no, my ivory couch has been tatted with black ink as well as a lovely blue swirly marker design. The door to my office has some sort of green chalky substance smattered about on top of his trademark blue.

Even the floors - my lovely hardwood - has not been spared. No, here and there you will find a speckle of color. A dab of whatever he could get his hands on, even some of Oldest Child's lipstick made it's non-facial debut.

So, what's a mother to do? Squelch his artistic ability? Scream and put him in more time outs than his little toddler brain can comprehend? Beat him within an inch of his life? eh hem, calmly explain that we do not have an art room but we'll be happy to accommodate his freedom of expression in other ways?

For now, this mother is stocking up on Resolve Upholstery Cleaner and hoping the phase passes soon. But, be warned: if you see this kid - HIDE ANYTHING THAT CAN LEAVE A MARK!

Future Picasso, or Tattoo Artist in the making? You be the judge.

I'm Almost Back!

I'm back! And doped up. So, you know, the reading should be fantabulous today. Mis-spellings, mis-punctuations, all that good stuff you look forward to in a blog.

Where to start? My hiatus has been for several reasons:

1. My adult onset ADD has kept me away from the computer and too inattentive to type more than a sentence at a time.
2. Vacation - we visited the hubs' family in Europe earlier this summer... don't worry a blog about that will follow, once I'm coherent again (which should be sometime this week).
3. Sinus surgery (hence being doped up on pain killers while typing this)

With the splints coming out today I should be back to a semi-normal state tomorrow and then the blogging shall resume! You've been warned. Feel free to duck and cover.

The Mayans Were Wrong - The End is Now!

I heard a few seconds of a sound bite on the news last night about the end of the world coming May 21. I didn't pay much attention. Chaulked it up to yet another crackpot who found a way to get airtime. But then, my former college advisor had a quip about regretting sending in his car payment, since the end was upon us and I thought this might warrant some investigation.

Of course, investigation on my part these days means googling things (I can hear all my former pr/journalism professors gasp that I'm too lazy to get off my chair and actually WORK at investigating - that is if I haven't already killed them by the misplaced punctuation that's rampant in my blogs). So after typing in "judgement day 2011" I found this lovely billboard:

                    

Nice, isn't it? I'm thinking this isn't doing such a great job of winning over people to listen to their station... unless it's to make fun of them.

OK, OK... that was harsh. But here's what I believe (and I'm not going to quote the Bible or anything so my non-Christian friends can relax), when the end of the world is upon us it will happen unexpectedly. None of us can sit here and proclaim to know the end of the world.

Besides, I doubt it's going to be next Saturday. The crazy, ranting street preacher downtown told me it was going to be last month, we're all still here. I have a European vacation next month that I've already paid for, dammit - I am not allowing the end of the world to happen before I get my monies worth!

"But wait, Beth, how can you be so sure? "  Yes, I hear your thoughts. How can I be sure? hmm... does January 1, 2000 ring a bell? We all just KNEW the end was upon us then... heck I know some folks who thought they needed to stockpile canned food b/c their refrigerator was going to go kaput. Guess what? At the stroke of midnight nothing happened and the world continued as usual. Finally, we all know that we've got until December 2012. Didn't you pay attention in history class when you studied the Mayans?

But, just in case the end IS upon us  I think I'll go shopping today... plenty of Manolo Blahniks and Christian Louboutins are in my future. Think of how many fabulous shoes I could have if I didn't have a mortgage payment (shh... don't tell the hubs)! 



My Stint as a Hobo

I am neurotic enough to have quite a few travel rules. Those of you that know me, know I'm not a really flexible person - rather set some ground rules and then stick to them fairly heavily. So, the predicament I got myself into yesterday is somewhat surprising... and unfortunately a little comical considering it goes against everything in my nature.

You see, I find myself stuck in a hotel in Oklahoma City with nothing more than my work kit and the same clothes I wore yesterday. I finished with my client meetings early yesterday and since I've decided that Oklahoma isn't exactly my favorite vacation destination I thought it would be a nice treat to go home early. Of course, when does anything I do not consist of some sort of oddball shenanigans?

Long story short, I sat in the OKC airport on stand-by for about 9 hours. Planes came and went, many going to Denver... none with me on them. At one point I had somewhat of a mental breakdown, so spent the last few hours sitting there with raccoon eyes from smudged eyeliner/mascara. Here is where I should note that my clothing, make-up, shampoo, etc. has all made it to Denver... while I sit here with a disposable hotel toothbrush and stale coffee. Oh... and did I mention the same clothes I wore (and slept in) yesterday?

When the lady at the ticket desk said, "Oh, don't worry Mrs. Copic, we'll get you home today. Go ahead and check your bags and they'll meet you in Denver."  I should have insisted that I'd gate check everything. Some of you would say "why'd you check your clothes, you idiot? You should have sent your work kit." But that is where I'd say, "Any travelling salesman will tell you they never part with their kit. You can work in clothes from Target, you cannot sell wedding gowns based on drawings of a stickwoman in a poofy skirt." Next you'd ask, "Why didn't you go buy clothes from Target last night?" and I'd say "Because my GPS is in the suitcase that went to Denver and I couldn't venture to far from the airport for fear of never finding my way back!"

I had to sleep in the same dress I wore yesterday. I mean, it was that or sleep in the buff... and after the day I had it would be just my luck the hotel would catch on fire and I'd be standing outside in a bathtowel. If I'd lost the weight of a small wildabeast like I need to that might not be a horrible thing - but in the present state of my body we'll not go there.

And as I put my pantyhose back on this morning, I realized they somehow have a run in them. So yes, I'll be that lovely woman walking through the airport in the same clothes as yesterday, bedhead hair (and not the sexy bedhead) and holes in my stockings. I can't wait to get home and soak in my tub, use every Aveda product I have at my disposal on my hair and put some damn makeup back on! Hopefully the airport gift shop will have some crappy hairbrush I can pay a small fortune for and look a little less like a hobo.

Someone Actually Believed I'm Nice!

I know, that is a weird headline, but for those of you who know me well - you know I have a bit of an edge, I'm fairly blunt, and sugar coating things isn't always my strongest point. Blame it on my "half breed" status... I'm half Yankee, half Southerner. Sometimes the Yankee side gets the better of me.

Growing up in the South, I rebelled against our genteel ways. I was a bookworm, but I also liked to play in the dirt. I frequently had dirt under my nails and I didn't learn how to keep my hair presentable until adulthood - and sometimes "presentable" is still a questionable term. In fact, I went through a weird stage where I didn't want my Barbies to look like Barbies so I shaved off all their hair with my mom's razor. Afraid of what she might say, I stuffed the hair down the air vent in my room. She was much more angry about the fine silky Barbie locks floating around the room than she was the spiky buzz cuts I'd given them.

Once I hit college; however, I realized that there is something to Southern Charm. And, I'll be the first to admit - I frequently use it to my full advantage.

This past weekend I attended my company's sales meeting in California. Of course I was on my best behavior, and somehow that translated to the sales rep from the Northeast territory (also female) thinking I might have a hard time. You see, we are travelling sales reps for a bridal manufacturer. Six months a year I travel a seven state territory to place gowns in bridal shops. There's a lot of rejection. There's a lot of travel through the remote hinterlands of our country. There's 3 meals a day in sometimes questionable establishments. I love it. But, I travel the South/Southwest. I understand the mentality - and the idea that someone saying "Betty Sue, bless her heart, ...." may be a nice way of saying "Betty Sue, that stupid *&%$  idiot, ... "

So, getting back to my headline - over breakfast we were talking about different situations that could hit us out on the road. My counterpart turned, looked at me and said, "Do you think you're hard enough for this type of work? I mean, you seem to be a really good salesperson, but you're just too nice." I actually dropped my fork. I think coffee may have squirted from my nose, and I died laughing.

When we got to the office that morning, I told my boss. He died laughing too. You see, he grew up in Chicago. He's a somewhat hardened LA resident now. He told us of the first trip he took to the south. He described the average middle-income southern woman - perfect make-up, perfect hair, perfect nails, impeccable clothes and stylish shoes. Always smiling, nodding, speaking softly. How on that trip, he decided those soft spoken well mannered southern ladies were probably the most ruthless, scrappy group of women on the planet.

You see, we were taught to be a genteel group. To love our families, be excellent hostesses, and keep up appearances. But, we were also taught to look out for ourselves, be fiercely independent, and not to take anything from anyone. True southern women can cook you the most excellent meal you've ever eaten, take a leisurely stroll through the garden, and then, quite possibly, sharp shoot her way out of dodge.

Afterall, isn't it the quiet ones you have to watch the most?

Why can't it be 70 everywhere all the time?

After shovelling about a foot of snow off the driveway to get out, I find myself in sunny So Cal for a sales meeting for work. If it weren't for the pesky earthquakes, fires and mud slides I might actually like this area. It's a beautiful part of the country and the weather is gorgeous - especially if you're used to being blinded by the white glare of the sun bouncing off the snow.

For those of you that follow this who are also clients or industry friends - look out! We have an awesome line for fall 2011, and I can't wait to share it with you. I get home late tomorrow night and will be planning my road trip for the upcoming travel season. Just think, those of you who thought my perils in LA last October, and subsequent strange happenings in TX (lizard room mates, random border patrol searches, etc) - all these occurrences and more are about to start up again late February/early March.

This travelling mama is sure to have plenty of weird stories to report. So until then, in my best Ron Burgandy voice, "Stay Classy, internet readers."

The Weather Outside is Frightful!

Thanks to my Weather Channel App, I know it's a balmy -9*, and feels like -28* right now. Hey, that's a heatwave, considering I woke up to -12, with a feels like temp of -32!

I had great plans for the day, take the baby to the sitter, go downtown and have my hair done, maybe even get lunch somewhere I don't usually get to go. Instead the schools are closed due to record breaking cold and I'm stuck inside with three crazy kids and an even crazier dog. Yeah, even with her coat Diva Dog refuses to go outside in this mess. There's only about 2-3 inches of snow on the ground, nothing major, but she just sits there and stares at us like, "no way, lady. You go do your business out there and see how that feels."

Needless to say, there's been lots of hot cocoa made today and I'm thinking we'll have some sort of stew for dinner. It was going to be beef, but I can't decide. We have a family visitor from Salt Lake coming over for dinner tonight before attending a conference downtown tomorrow so I might get creative. Who knows? Depends on if I'm brave enough to venture to the grocery store.

Since moving out here I've thought a lot about the pioneers. I don't know. Maybe it's my obsession with Denver native author Sandra Dallas and her books, which are all set in or around the Midwest and several in Colorado mining towns. When it's this cold I find myself thinking, "how did they survive?" Gives you a whole new respect for the awful things our ancestors went through to give us the comforts we have today.

Yes, My Hair is Naturally Dark... I Just Do or Say Stupid Things.

Ever have one of those moments where you say something, and the second you do you just know it was stupid? Well, that was me last night... and it was published out in cyberspace for all to see. I thought I'd be smart and sassy responding to a friend's facebook post.

This was her post (names left out to protect the innocent):

Every State of the Union makes me think of the time I made my sister watch and asked her government questions. Me: "Do you know what the Attorney General does?" Her: "Um, tells you not to smoke?!"

My response, in my most "intellectual" typing voice:

He/she also tells you not to drink when preggo. What? Did I miss something? ;p

And then, a lightening bolt hit me, and I attempted to redeem myself:

Oh wait... That's someone else. Lol. Surgeon General's warning... Now everyone knows why I went from poly-sci to something more creative.

Of course, we all know that the Attorney General is the head of the Department of Justice and is considered the chief lawyer of the USA. But for a moment, I just knew he was the guy who said if you drink during pregnancy your kid will come out with three eyes and 16 toes.

Believe it or not, I have a rather high IQ, and my college entrance exams were in the "impressive" category... even if my every day actions leave you to wonder... "Is she the girl the dumb blond jokes are written about" and why are they blond jokes if she's so obviously brunette?

So, now that I've opened up to the world and shared my most recent stupid moment, what's yours? Come on... one of my 15 followers has to have something much worse than this they can share and make me feel better!

Danger: The Office Monster May Still Be On The Prowl

My friend Audreya's post today was about how we all have rooms we don't want our friends/family to see when they visit our homes. You know, like my office that may eat you alive if you accidentally wander into it. This has been a greatly debated topic in the Copic househould lately. You see, it's time to start the passport process for the baby. And the passports the older two have are expiring this year.

Since we are planning to visit the hubs' family in Europe this summer, then it's kind of important that I get off the couch begin the paperwork process. The problem is, I picked such a "safe" place for our special documents, that I have no clue where I've stashed them.

I spent most of yesterday looking for them. I checked all the usual places. Found all our old tax returns, some checks for bank accounts we no longer have, random pictures of our college days (yeah, those needed to stay hidden) but not the passports - or the baby's birth certificate.

So,clearly I still have some work to do.  But it may be safe for a quick thinking adult to wander into the office now... still too risky for small children. The office monster may still be lurking.

Christmas and New Year's in Review

Things have finally gotten back to normal from the holiday activities (well, almost normal - the decorations are still up, but will come down this weekend). Christmas itself was fairly uneventful. I cooked "Christmas Dinner" on Christmas Eve, and we opened all our gifts afterwards.



The older two taught baby M
how to open his presents.



Christmas morning was filled with the usual excitement of finding out what Santa brought, as well as the hustle and bustle of us loading up the car for our first Christmas Vacation. The hubs grew up skiing, none of the rest of us have ever attempted any sort of winter activity - other than sledding - so of course, an eight day trip to the mountains was just what we needed, right?

After loading the car full of suitcases, skiing/snowboarding/sledding/skating equipment, the dog, and of course ourselves (and yes, the car looked like it belonged to the Clampets once all of the previously mentioned items were in it) we were off to Winter Park, a ski resort town about an hour's drive from home.

<>

View from the car as we crossed
part of Berthoud Pass.

Most days were full of activity; however, I will confess that cooking at a higher altitude than what we're currently at proved to not always be as easy as it is down here at a mere 6,000 ft. Somehow, I managed to bake cookies (not typically an easy feet at higher elevations), but didn't get soup right - I'm blaming it on the water, no way it could be anything I did wrong!



Day one of our quest put both me and the middle child in "ski school". I use this term loosely because he will fiercly tell you he does NOT ski, he boards/rides/whatever the "cool" term for snowboarding is. All I know is after two lessons he's flying down the mountain fearlessly while I'm still plowing my way at a snails pace on the baby slopes. It was a lot of fun though, and I'm looking forward to many memories being made out there.



Proof that - contrary to any reports
 you might hear -  I can stay upright on skis.



I am happy to report that there were only two falls made by yours truly on the mountain. The first was when I went a little faster than what was in my comfort zone, and subsequently got the tips of my skis stuck together. I know, rookie mistake... Fortunately there was a nice soft snow dune that I drove myself into. I'm sure it was a lovely sight. The second was a classic "Beth Accident". For some reason I have an unrational fear of the chairlift. As the hubs and I approached the end of one of our rides, there was literally a man down. Some guy had fallen not far from the lift's exit ramp. Of course I was afraid of running over him, so got stuck on the chair and instead of exiting when I should have, I instead jumped from the chair as it turned the corner to head back to the bottom. Luckily it had snowed a few inches the previous night and I had a soft landing pad.



Middle Child (in green jacket) gets
ready to head downhill in class.

Middle child, of course, is much more athletic and was zooming down the slopes in no time. Laughing at me as he passed by, and upset the last couple days we were in town because it was too cold and windy to take him out.

One of the highlights of our trip was a jaunt over to Grand Lake. An area known for summer activities, but also a haven for snowshoeing and ice fishing. Originally the plan was to do some ice fishing, but we got a late start and just did some sightseeing and shopping instead.

We did not;  however, venture close
to them. Moose are not known for
being nice if they think you are
invading their space...

We did see three large moose in a meadow on our drive. To me that was one of the highlights of the trip!

Unfortunately, our trip was not without drama. We originally planned to come home on the 2nd. But, as temperatures plummetted (windchills ranged from -50 to -31, with real temps being around -4 for the highs) the hubs and I decided we'd all be a little saner if we went back to our own home, where we each had our own rooms to retreat to instead of the two bedroom duplex we were staying in.

We packed up and decided to leave after lunch. While we cooked, the kids entertained themselves. And that's when middle child decided he would carry baby man around the back bedroom. Somehow, they fell and when they did the baby took a face plant into the metal bedframe, splitting his right nostril open.



What? You mean stury strips aren't
normally part of my handsome physique? 



Nine and a half hours, two emergency rooms and quite a few stitches later - we were home. Thankful that nothing more tragic happened, and wondering if maybe we should have left after breakfast instead of trying to cook lunch.

It was a good trip; however, and these are the things memories are made of, right?

Oldest child refused to pose
for pictures - but that's her on the left, just
in front of the bridge skating
.

Baby Man loving the sled!

***Side note, I have no idea why there are two of the same pics of middle child snowboarding, the first one is not showing up in my edit thread, it appears to be deleted but when I publish it's there. So get over seeing the same pic twice. Also, I apparently lack the skills of making a cool photo montage, so deal with the sloppy way they are there. As you can tell, I did not resolve to be less snarky this year - only to post on a more regular basis. Cheers!***

Movie Review: Burlesque

Here's a link to the trailer

I had a rough Sunday - more about that another time - and the hubs was thoughtful enough to think I needed a night out of the house, so he surprised me with an impromptu date night.

We checked what was playing at the local theatre and decided that Burlesque was a movie we had both heard of and wanted to see. I wasn't really sure what I expected going into it, but I was happy with the result.

The costumes are great, and surprisingly the acting isn't too bad, either. It's a fairly typical story - small town girl goes to L.A. to make it big. She falls on hard times, can't find a job, wanders into a burlesque club and stands in awe by what she sees. At first she thinks she's in a strip club, but the guy at the door quickly points out that these ladies don't strip. The lights go out and the show starts. She is dumbfounded and wants in. Blah, blah - not giving away too much of the plot - she finally ends up "in" when the owner realizes she can dance, and not too long afterwards hears that she has some amazing songbird capabilities, too.

There's some romance and they try to throw in a few life lessons, too. My biggest disappointment was that in a movie where more than half the dialogue was sung, Cher only sang two songs. However; Christina Aguilera did not disappoint. I was surprised that she could actually act and as it was her character singing the majority of the songs. Her trademark sound was perfect for the part. I'm not ordinarily a soundtrack person, but I think if I see this soundtrack in the store it's going to make it's way into my shopping cart.

So if you're looking for an escape from your holiday shopping, cooking, party going - I'd recommend this one.



An Open Letter to my Blackberry

Dear Blackberry,

We've had a long relationship. It's had it's ups and downs; however, we always worked out our differences and you just seemed to compliment me so well. That said, I'm seriously beginning to question how much longer we can keep this up. You see I'm being courted by newer/flashier versions of you... not to mention the iPhone and the Droid. They are seducing me with glitz and extra apps that you don't offer.

It's true, I did have an on-going side  relationship with the iPhone a while back. Since I broke it off  I've had withdrawl from what the iPhone offered me during those months. And, you can't fulfill my scrabble fantasies.

Lately your service to Facebook hasn't been that great; and then today... horror of all horrors, you just stopped allowing me to read my texts. I'm not sure how to break this to you, blackberry, but once the baby wakes from his nap I'm going to have to go to the AT&T store to have a discussion about our relationship. I'm giving you full warning. Maybe between now and then you can snap out of your funk and return to the loving blackberry I once knew. If not, I'm unsure of our future. At this point it is in "the plan's" hands as we'll have to see what is covered and what isn't.

Thank you for the memories. And I hope we can work it out.

With a heavy heart,

Beth

What Thanksgiving Means to Me

Thankgsiving has always been a favorite holiday of mine. As a child we would pack up the car and head over the river and through the woods on a 12 hour trek to northern Illinois to my grandmother's house. Upon arriving we would be plied with all sorts of treats and goodies - not to mention some of the best food ever put upon this Earth.

Every day of the week was dedicated to a special treat we couldn't get in the south - for example: one night would be Italian beef night, Friday or Saturday would typically be homemade Ravioli night (complete with the family story of who held the record for eating the most ravioli's - my mom or my aunt. The number eaten grew like a great fish tale every year, and of course the loser always proclaimed it was because they drank more milk, but actually consumed more calories).

No joke, by the week's end we each probably gained about 20 pounds, would reload the car and head south again. When we arrived back to the house the Christmas season would be in full swing. As we've gotten older and family members took jobs across the country keeping this tradition has been harder and harder to keep. Since moving to Colorado last year, the hubs and I decided we would create our own version of this yearly holiday trek. Only instead of heading to IL we now head back to Arkansas.

To me, Thanksgiving is a holiday for family and we want our children to have similar experiences to those I had and hold dear from when I was a child. We will go back to Colorado and anxiously await a white Christmas, but this week is dedicated to bonding and memory making with family.

First I was searched, then a lizard tried to sleep with me

This trip to Texas has been interesting, to say the least. I have done absolutely no sight seeing - just work. However, since it is me we're talking about there have been some interesting occurrences.

For instance driving from San Antonio to Brownsville I passed many highway patrol cars and border patrol agents. I didn't think anything about it, I am in south Texas after all... however, yesterday afternoon as I drove back to Corpus Christi from McAllen I had to stop at a mandatory checkpoint. Now, this is the first checkpoint I'd ever gone through. I didn't know what to expect. And of course, I have a vivid imagination. I see the drug dog sniffing the semis and the vehicles in front of me.... I start to wonder who's driven my rental car before me. And, was I about to end up in some third rate prison cell because Rin-Tin-Tin detected something from the freak that drove my car prior to me renting it! Of course my husband's friend who works in the Secret Service popped into mind. He lives down here somewhere. Would he vouch for me if I ended up in the clink? Do I know where he lives? Do I have his phone number? hmm... too late to think about him, it's now my turn. The nice border patrol agent tells me to keep my door closed, but pop the trunk and allow them to open all my doors. Fido hops in the trunk, then he sniffs around inside the car. The agent asks me where I'm going... I momentarily forget and point north. I stutter out, "ummm.... north.... San Antonio. I'm a sales rep for a bridal company. Visited Brownsville and McAllen today selling dresses." This was way more information than the dude asked, but I was nervous. And of course I can't be short and to the point even when I'm not. The guy obviously got that I was much to much of a geek to be a criminal so he waved me on and told me to be safe - and get a hotel before dark. Why do people keep telling me that here (and by that I mean my husband, my parents, my sister, the lady I work with in CA, the store owner I saw this morning, and now the border patrol guy)? Seriously - believe what you see on the news about the state of things in northern Mexico... according to one of my store owners it's much worse than the American public realizes (and yes, I will subject you to a blog on my meeting with her as soon as I can logically type it out).

So, since everyone now has me freaked out about driving after dark - not one of my usual phobias... and I have plenty of them, thank you very much - I head to Alice, TX for a room. Unfortunately this somewhat sleepy little town is completely booked. I tried three hotels that fit my criteria (I am weird, I require my hotel room to be nonsmoking, with all interior rooms - no drive up and park outside the doors anywhere on the property, prefer a king sized bed, and it must provide breakfast b/c that is more than likely the only meal I'm guaranteed to remember to eat until I figure out where I'm laying my head the next day). All were booked. I called a couple of my frequent sleeper programs to see what might be nearby. 25 miles south of me was a Hilton brand hotel - an executive suites Hampton Inn. This sounded promising. It was a little more than what I typically budget, but it's now getting dark and the border agent has warned me about roaming around.... even if I am 100+ miles north of him by now.  I give my billing information and head over to the property. I am in Kingsville, TX.

There is a branch of Texas A&M here, the famous Kings Ranch is here... these is cowboy country. I should be safe here, right? I get my room keys... I go upstairs. I open the door, the bathroom door is closed. Hmm... this is unusual. I've stayed in a lot of hotels the last 2 weeks - the door is never closed upon entry. I start thinking of the mass murderer who is hiding in there waiting to rape and kill me. I prop my suitcase in the main door so I can run out if necessary (keep in mind I'm in 4 inch stilettos so not sure how exactly I plan on running). I open the door... AND SCREAM. There, scurrying around in the floor is a LIZARD. It is not huge, probably about 5-6 inches long. It is brown with black stripes... and it appears to be furry. Who the hell ever heard of a FURRY lizard? I locked it back into the bathroom and called the front desk. They switched my room. I have no idea what happened to the lizard. But I can say that yesterday was not a good night's sleep. I kept thinking something was going to crawl/slither into my bed and bite me.

Needless to say, I head home tomorrow morning. The next 9 hours can't pass quickly enough so I can get back to Colorado. Who cares if it's cold... it's lizard free, and safe to wander about after dark!

Movie Review: The American

Even the movie poster makes you think
 it's going to be Bondish.
007 would be sorely disappointed.

As I alluded in yesterday's blog, The American was a disappointment. The trailer wisely edited together the best parts of the movie thinking you were going to see George Clooney in some sort of James Bond film. I didn't do any research on the movie before hand. I really wasn't sure what it was about, and figured it was some sort of action movie.

Hmmm... should have done my research on this one. While there were pieces of action, the movie was dreadfully slow. And, there was barely any conversation. I'm all for artistic expression, but when the dialogue in the movie makes Castaway seem like an endless manuscript of dialogue, you know something's missing.

To the director's credit, there is some gorgeous camera work. The artistry of depicting the Italian countryside is splendid. However, it just wasn't enough to keep me entertained. You can only see the main character speed down the Italian countryside (and I use the term "speed" very loosely as he drove an older sedan that didn't appear to be able to go above 45 mph without falling apart) so many times before you start to wonder what color the walls are behind the tapestries of the theatre you're sitting in.

George plays an assassin/arms dealer of sorts who decides he's giving up the life. He befriends a priest. He courts a prostitute (another awkward bought of filming - while I'm all for a good sex scene, really the camera doesn't need to focus on the lady's naked boobs for which seems like an eternity) and asks her to run away with him.

Things don't go according to his plan. I won't give away details, but know that it's a movie that requires you to think.

On the plus side, George gets more lickable with age. On the downside, it's only entertaining to watch him work out the first time, the following 2-3 scenes of him working out in dress slacks are somewhat stupid. Why would anyone, especially an assassin, not have a pair of proper work out clothes?

In case you haven't figured it out, I would give this movie a D-. I don't like to give F's, and I can appreciate the artistry of the movie. But, I truly could have been more entertained if I had taken a match to $20 and watched it burn to a crisp.

Me VS. The Weekend

The weekend went by too fast. But, with it's end I'm on the downhill side of the hubs being in Kentucky for work so I'm not going to complain. The weekend was fairly typical in the life of the Copic house. Soccer game, trip to the zoo, plenty of TV time. Nothing too out of the ordinary.

Saturday was our hectic day. J had his second soccer game of the season. He's on a pretty good team; however, the hubs is his coach. With Andre in KY until the 24th that meant a sub. Since this is a public forum and I don't know that they can't google and find me I will not go into details of my let down of the game. I will just say that we lost. A huge loss. It wasn't due to a lack of skill or because they were outplayed. It was because his team was not organized. And organization is the coach's responsibility. When the coach doesn't coach/mentor the kids, a breakdown happens. And that's exactly what we experienced Saturday. OH well, we have six more games this season, and not everyone wins 100% of the time. So, we'll pick ourselves up, dust ourselves off and go back out there. in Wild Dogs vs. Wolverines, Wild Dogs won. But Wolverines learned how to be good sports even when they don't win. So, I'd say it was a moral victory.

J is a fairly good little goalie. Here he catches the ball before the opposition scores.
Me vs. the Weekend, take 1 - weekend wins.
But I'm claiming moral victory for kids learning how to be good sports when they loose.

We went home, relaxed a bit and decided that we'd take a family outing to the zoo. Sure, that doesn't sound difficult. But have you ever tried doing this alone with a passel of kids? I loaded up the car, stopped at Target for snacks and the four of us took off to the Denver Zoo.

It was a nice outing. The weather was gorgeous and most of the animals we wanted to see were out. J always bugs us for a train ride and we never want to wait in the line, but this time it wasn't too bad so me and the three kids piled on and rode around for a bit. The zoo has had quite a few babies born this year, and we saw the baby orangutan and mountain goats up close. The only complaint to be heard was from J because I don't do the reptile house, so he had to skip it. Oh well, his dad can take him in another time. We did catch the sea lion show and that was entertaining. Baby Man really could care less; however, and took a nap during the second half of our excursion.

Mama Orangutan with baby on her shoulder. I couldn't catch her up close.

J & H outside of the sea lion exhibit. Baby Man was sleeping by this point so he's not pictured.
Me vs. the Weekend, take 2 - I win.

That evening after the Baby went to sleep I escaped with the neighbors to grab a movie down the street. They wanted to see Devil. I don't do scary movies. I especially do not do scary movies when I'm alone. They joked that I would go home and put all three kids in bed with me. They didn't know that was probably true, and I'd sleep with every light in the house on. Instead of doing this we saw The American. Look for a movie review later. Don't be shocked when the review is not good. The plus side of The American is George Clooney is lickable. That's about it.

A brooding well toned George. Best thing about the movie.
Me vs. Weekend, take 3 - me because I didn't get up and leave, and I managed to stay awake.

Sunday was what I like to call a lazy day. We lounged around the house and watched movies. Letters to Juliet is adorable. And the premier of Broadway Empire came on last night. My kids managed to play nice and not kill each other. All and all it was a good day.

So, All told the final score was Beth - 2 (plus a moral victory), Weekend - 1. I'm saying that's a resounding defeat to the weekend!