tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4036695061151553322024-02-20T20:35:43.157-08:00Bloggity Blogster"T-Bone" Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00388295799913646592noreply@blogger.comBlogger156125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-403669506115155332.post-4366984255623572122011-06-19T21:50:00.000-07:002011-06-19T21:58:00.510-07:007 years (and 9 months)<div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div>7 years ago (yesterday)....chris and I decided to stop pussy footing around the issue and declare that yes...we were indeed....."dating" (we'd already been dating for about 9 months). eek! Two years ago (yesterday) he asked me to marry him.......and a year ago (yesterday) we were just a month and half away from getting married. We celebrated by pulling some carrots from our {organic} garden, opening up a bottle of Syrah I gave him as a gift for this same occasion last year and roasting a rack of lamb with cous cous and sauteed carrots (in butter and brown sugar of course). Finished the whole thing off with some carmelized peaches and vanilla bean ice cream. Nom!<div><br /></div><div>The only picture I have of the occasion is this:</div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 237px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZ9x9HC9oxY-o4H281NfCnnmAXopnA7gbH_yJ_nWUT9Z8UGmV8YMyswmoQkgEAkS2Sksl_WaBcaQ2Tx_W5BtM8dgtadIQwRgFmQekacpiQ8k7OdN-T-b3lrMdSXmorfeCZD9ivYk46t_d2/s320/Screen+shot+2011-06-19+at+9.54.25+PM.png" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5620161010617882018" /><div style="text-align: center;">of our first harvest......</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div>....because when I'm spending an awesome night drinking wine with the man I love...I forget to take pictures. :)</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>As a side note: I totally burned my fingers on spattered caramel. It hurts. War wounds. </div><div><br /></div>"T-Bone" Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00388295799913646592noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-403669506115155332.post-13681040302301350022011-05-29T13:17:00.000-07:002011-05-29T14:34:14.470-07:00Because homemade is always better.<div style="text-align: left;">Sunday is the only day both Chris and I don't have to work- usually (as I write this he is actually at work today....Sunday...on Memorial Day weekend....ugh...go figure) and I look forward to this day every week. Sundays used to be about pancakes around this house.....and we've become masters of a delicious blueberry pancake (I'm on blueberry duty.). But for the past few months Sundays have been all about waffles. The quest for the perfect rich buttermilk waffle. Crisp on the outside, fluffy and light on the inside...we're really almost there...the last few Sunday have been phenomenal on the waffle front. This week, I got it in my brain though that the perfect accompaniment to homemade waffles would be homemade butter....and the product of homemade butter is buttermilk which can then be used in the waffles! Genius!</div><div><br /><div>So this morning.....I made butter. Oh....what's that? You'd like to know how??? OK! I'll tell you! </div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnvC15gptKEmBsvrzy-6CZqrw_O0mkOmDWcG8BQ5Dg_zpB11vzIefYjkjcp8T6BStMbj6R5C6oAzzFEV4wWmyyfY2EuObfWFhp4llKWHqIr_eFMqs85xgvXOWwsBn_QT7fhAXW4DXTXRG6/s320/IMG_0792.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5612237502496627250" />Step 1: Heavy cream goes into fancy food processor that you got as a wedding present and that your husband insists you didn't want but he convinced you and oh now look who loves it! (phffffttt...)</div><div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisZYDVWqRv8xWDeK5xroGeuacRRiglIsuEedt9CFHQ3i6PRfrf0Y1M3zorxQfBm44JRlzWMskvMqh4MqS0P2bhQKjuHIu65QjzM_Au-4e2EuGWu7LBjxnw_QVxPK8HaExYVjOiFFQT8Xkr/s320/IMG_0793.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5612249710165831730" />Step 2: Turn fancy food processor on and let the cream go from liquid to beautiful whipped cream and then into the phase where it starts to break apart and separate from the liquid....all while your husband stands over your shoulder going "ooooh look! it's changing!". He's cute, that one. :)</div><div><br /></div><div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1Yv_UTXApCTqd2pR2pWOQnCHVn7_an9IrrdXO-UEJfFqZ7HXohAWQn5Db5ZDk7MMhndXecuf92yVj76j7W6qzLD8jSey8XqfRlpv9bVXHg9dg1_wd6idX2lLvNKSHQ7G25qkZr5amNszx/s320/IMG_0794.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5612249715821593474" />Step 3: The liquid that separates is buttermilk. Pour it out pressing the butter with a spatula to get even more liquid out. Save that delicious buttermilk for the waffles you'll make....you're going to make waffles aren't you???? (sidenote: like my manicure? It's called "booty camp" cuz it's pink camouflage. I'm so hardcore.)</div><div><br /></div><div>Step 4 (sorry...no picture...I was busy doing step 4): rinse the butter with very cold water....drain off the liquid and wash again until the water is no longer cloudy.</div><div><br /></div><div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpQsHe-jZA6LFwiNZ-obDWBGiM5OFecabhlMWzfGyp-6D95aEeDsUGoAhiOwh1yDM86yaIaWs7ZSLShwyVoKM6WS8Jb8q1HnCSDF8zlwF_y02qjI9Wlx24js9xMP2gcjy5OfWpg8HdTRxc/s320/IMG_0795.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5612249718968969538" />Step 5: Mix a few pinches of salt (even if normally you use unsalted butter) into the butter and place in small bowl pressing out air bubbles with spatula. And BOOM! Fresh creamery buttah...is there anything bettah? (british accent necessary). Seriously....this butter is amazing.....I know it sounds stupid to describe it this way...but it was just so....so....<i>buttery!</i></div><div><br /></div><div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEga_Fhd3RX85as89T12Sj05wk62vdZ3kJaS65oXC3lhr1CwpNcohVtCqbE1hmaLwMyUV0m1MnqmVt9lbUanBeHiHDDZP7E0NEAVNVeVuiZv0ui0XEF1_olP-XQgEjHpHO3riTFr6juTRGpk/s320/IMG_0796.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5612249724804753058" />Step 6: Make waffles (slather with fresh butter), turkey bacon and french press coffee.....and watch Meet The Press (followed by discussions about the ridiculous idea of Sarah Palin running for President and medicare with husband). And that's our Sunday morning. </div><div><br /></div><div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlGP4yEFp23mAmMPXu2a-MDrqq5nl13bzhK171oJtQ6XuSNH0qLz5bOVEWNRqWLFQlIxlAdWsCLwxMT8WyBvt5NZtHhKTu3mQH7n9_eJbcEa5crzU5jXblDUmhCRLssMItae-JG2qaIwWx/s320/IMG_0797.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5612249731614969362" /><div style="text-align: center;">Indy says "they know I love the waffles and the bacons...but they never offer me any."</div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">He's so abused.</div>"T-Bone" Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00388295799913646592noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-403669506115155332.post-62119460828540714852011-05-25T16:09:00.000-07:002011-05-25T16:29:56.153-07:00The Little Things<div style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#0000EE;"><u><br /></u></span></div><div>Sometimes we just need to be reminded about how many amazing moments there are to be found in life.</div><div><br /></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpN87YxMM1IRuqQQw5DkIdBaB9-teKIUhZd7eRoRAZa6tDBFKtdjz6YCggM1hjKbjegqkeRPQUdYv3F-l_v5GiBJOmPrQK_jh-dViyczBUUCZrHjX_FJ17xH96TP-wDHINzUVWUDhL-mS-/s1600/Screen+shot+2011-05-25+at+4.11.44+PM.png" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 224px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpN87YxMM1IRuqQQw5DkIdBaB9-teKIUhZd7eRoRAZa6tDBFKtdjz6YCggM1hjKbjegqkeRPQUdYv3F-l_v5GiBJOmPrQK_jh-dViyczBUUCZrHjX_FJ17xH96TP-wDHINzUVWUDhL-mS-/s320/Screen+shot+2011-05-25+at+4.11.44+PM.png" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5610799089550550738" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRgaIZFiyWIMJsV7YtE6Ei3WXxnBel322fQHX9JxqK2xqWA21MLRFFHQvqa3o3RztLVMLr1cTRsO6pnKlF7adD6kogiRKlAEZYVeX7fzeVlL_b0-a8NU0fwsV3Lm4QQiSZnn5Duw2a36_u/s1600/Screen+shot+2011-05-25+at+4.12.01+PM.png" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 223px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRgaIZFiyWIMJsV7YtE6Ei3WXxnBel322fQHX9JxqK2xqWA21MLRFFHQvqa3o3RztLVMLr1cTRsO6pnKlF7adD6kogiRKlAEZYVeX7fzeVlL_b0-a8NU0fwsV3Lm4QQiSZnn5Duw2a36_u/s320/Screen+shot+2011-05-25+at+4.12.01+PM.png" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5610799088832319506" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9hLTwSdSji2R2fG1LRipshztXyEUOxxHJdCYIPFAmnM90ps8-ubgHOwSB2IbAXvxj7N0oY0NA8c3LP5Q2QA6JxJVI-x5VJFyGRxhZGg2dqxkP94my-dW53ePX4zK8WmzdFa76mEjjZX5Q/s1600/Screen+shot+2011-05-25+at+4.13.33+PM.png" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 224px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9hLTwSdSji2R2fG1LRipshztXyEUOxxHJdCYIPFAmnM90ps8-ubgHOwSB2IbAXvxj7N0oY0NA8c3LP5Q2QA6JxJVI-x5VJFyGRxhZGg2dqxkP94my-dW53ePX4zK8WmzdFa76mEjjZX5Q/s320/Screen+shot+2011-05-25+at+4.13.33+PM.png" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5610799084795810306" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdogoAoWek65L-ePD2ebhrS9sZeHvJc4oPSl3D-qSpJ2H1URZ7VHk2beYywrThGA0ryZPa72KFIq6VWoLJ1Lyit_cbFRcRgVfRWiV1fuOdUBWXPUG_97jW-x8ypjdNMPrtfTU54i70pqPg/s1600/Screen+shot+2011-05-25+at+4.16.38+PM.png" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 222px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdogoAoWek65L-ePD2ebhrS9sZeHvJc4oPSl3D-qSpJ2H1URZ7VHk2beYywrThGA0ryZPa72KFIq6VWoLJ1Lyit_cbFRcRgVfRWiV1fuOdUBWXPUG_97jW-x8ypjdNMPrtfTU54i70pqPg/s320/Screen+shot+2011-05-25+at+4.16.38+PM.png" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5610798580471062594" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqXd481_OrxKemNQcMTTDaSywLCQlJWsLRt-Edv5nEzeD93EEEe8cJNYsMAI7EclVFf-vfswlXP32c5e-TlNGUi_abHH590rqbL4cUHUF2mR84vcY-RFR-rFIQJFpUF4DpntLrwU0Rj9Tf/s1600/Screen+shot+2011-05-25+at+4.17.14+PM.png" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 224px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqXd481_OrxKemNQcMTTDaSywLCQlJWsLRt-Edv5nEzeD93EEEe8cJNYsMAI7EclVFf-vfswlXP32c5e-TlNGUi_abHH590rqbL4cUHUF2mR84vcY-RFR-rFIQJFpUF4DpntLrwU0Rj9Tf/s320/Screen+shot+2011-05-25+at+4.17.14+PM.png" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5610798575620204466" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJMiWR_DsQCTgKChX-eIo241JmFIeouHpUoi6upRgNKj8e7B3aYJwGohxWa7v-f8d3dd4CLe5TwDsQpCKmFa4hTCwzC6ISBC-WJb1dh9g_P5jRkIDUDmNdtbsW13ztf3icAC89GD18DqPJ/s1600/Screen+shot+2011-05-25+at+4.17.45+PM.png" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 225px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJMiWR_DsQCTgKChX-eIo241JmFIeouHpUoi6upRgNKj8e7B3aYJwGohxWa7v-f8d3dd4CLe5TwDsQpCKmFa4hTCwzC6ISBC-WJb1dh9g_P5jRkIDUDmNdtbsW13ztf3icAC89GD18DqPJ/s320/Screen+shot+2011-05-25+at+4.17.45+PM.png" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5610798568779758626" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#0000EE;"><u><br /></u></span></div>I just discovered <a href="http://justlittlethings.tumblr.com/">this blog</a>......and you should spend some time there. Especially if you're having a rough day. I could keep posting, but these are a few that I love. <div><br /></div><div>I would add:</div><div><br /></div><div>* Hearing "I love you" first.</div><div><br /></div><div>and</div><div><br /></div><div>* When a little kid runs across the room in excitement to hug you.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>"T-Bone" Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00388295799913646592noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-403669506115155332.post-40105136105905926262011-03-17T11:29:00.001-07:002011-03-17T11:37:10.836-07:00Anguilla: Day Two.So I get home from work this morning and walk back in after doing a little yardwork and I see this guy RUNNING up our yard, trampling our new grass and displacing our walkway rocks. I am displeased already. Then the doorbell rings. "W.T.F" runs through my brain. (and Indy's....although his thoughts manifest as just a cocking of his head). I open the door thinking that maybe this guy is panicked about a lost child or worse....lost dog (just kidding. settle down.). He's standing at the bottom of our steps and blurts out quickly "HI! I SELL WHOLESALE STEAK AND SEAFOOD! I'LL SHOW YOU WHAT I GOT!". Just as he's about to run away to what I assume is to get whatever he's got to show me I say "I'm not interested" and he pauses as though that's a surprise to him. "oh. You're not? Ok. Thanks" and he RUNS away. So I close the door....and assume he went next door to yell at someone else about his fish. Not 60 seconds later I see him RUN. FULL SPRINT. down the street back to his truck that is labeled with black stick on letters "wholesale steak". Then he PEELS OUT down the street at speeds not appropriate for a residential setting. <div><br /></div><div>And that was Anguilla Day Two. Blogging is fun.</div>"T-Bone" Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00388295799913646592noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-403669506115155332.post-50864670000977846162011-03-11T13:07:00.001-08:002011-03-11T13:09:02.964-08:00I'm back.<div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div>Consider this one single post as my way of saying....keep checking back. I think I'm going to start back into this blogging thing after almost a year hiatus. Wow. It's been quite a year. <div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 246px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjn_IAvN1Yx_enhNBwHBD8SD00jWKgnB65EmUCKxypXvIatjbT8gPW4yqarHy0vSZlDb9Nf5bzBs3hUF0u_-WITRDAkYt4sFcyIIWZWsdtY6SkgmS4CjDiXhloBWj6s7FejtNfq-nKup8Ls/s320/Mr+%2526+Mrs+LaMons.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5582932287831251874" /></div><div><br /></div>"T-Bone" Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00388295799913646592noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-403669506115155332.post-68021155979337886752010-06-22T10:11:00.001-07:002010-06-22T10:44:06.732-07:00Anguilla- Day One.Really? April 21st? THAT'S the last time I posted? GAH!!!! All these responsibilities and THINGS to do are really sucking me into a black hole of.......................................................................<div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>So rather than go into detail about all the stuff that is going on right now (ie. 39 days until zee weddin!!!!! ) I think I should finish the train of thought I started back in April and finish the Anguillan vacation talk.</div><div><br /></div><div>So...where were we? Oh! Yes! The first whole day. So we arrived Wed. night, had that awesome dinner and woke up Thursday to find a gorgeous beach waiting for us. So we did a little of this:</div><br /><br /><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgK10CRDBSfUuTlOnF4xFXCHkQKBSNefYk39SbPEnP03yQ6SgCU49SgnyDg8YCtM_UjgE2V0IpiSzgF3j6SkyXrQf2Nd6lLbM8CkWMFJhB33Hu9jIRjxZbby0ji2gsXRo6yf1JD6RFGxUn4/s320/IMG_2115.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5485647817622162514" /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNxJ_ecVN8w0vfz9gwoyPrbcT9dq_4cYv3qoNMZ-RRxO3D7XUrbtz8qH7wGRShRgR91brknOdwnjj74w19OYCd6UKoXq77i9Hrex3ZS6i7lhL8tWdnhevSLbthPIpj4UPwzeItG2NG_-DL/s1600/IMG_2118.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNxJ_ecVN8w0vfz9gwoyPrbcT9dq_4cYv3qoNMZ-RRxO3D7XUrbtz8qH7wGRShRgR91brknOdwnjj74w19OYCd6UKoXq77i9Hrex3ZS6i7lhL8tWdnhevSLbthPIpj4UPwzeItG2NG_-DL/s320/IMG_2118.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5485647828204029698" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: left;">......and it was nice.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">We took a little stroll down the beach to Gwen's for some awesome BBQ and rum punches (except I had beer cuz of the stupid possibility of food coloring in the rum punch...stupid allergy....but the beer was still pretty good). There were lots of photos taken in front of what basically looked like the screen saver photos for a Mac.</div><br /><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5LhoAR1wBFb_cNGIHa5gMLGiU0RRBb2GmL6xAxDMyQKX40UYr29gwNtl5WHdhjRcCjUop8_O70ZzIBCocmJhVrjnW-6yiaS263kerZ2O074jES_3QxZWXca4lxPOJaHRushfWN5gV2k6F/s320/IMG_2120.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5485648802941226658" /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzKeIaZnKgTV-r7FPnb-nJY3vV8Xc4uzb2U8gjP0Wzgg5RIW1DmGmxgCY-xYLQEA6xWJADvV97sQ2HDZ5tvLxmy4SKisPegcL2AyxfrWpq0GvywXVtqxjXDCMNOHDYUawqNkDqexEa2zC9/s1600/IMG_2136.JPG" style="text-decoration: none;"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzKeIaZnKgTV-r7FPnb-nJY3vV8Xc4uzb2U8gjP0Wzgg5RIW1DmGmxgCY-xYLQEA6xWJADvV97sQ2HDZ5tvLxmy4SKisPegcL2AyxfrWpq0GvywXVtqxjXDCMNOHDYUawqNkDqexEa2zC9/s320/IMG_2136.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5485648823020553570" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBi040efrZalIXkbCVH2J8eiJAQQIwPkaMHJjpL26UXsEVqJbLNuM6_bRjQ6ITpAen5wCfOqbbUTC99wZWT7GGGfC0iwBUvnvRudqL_Umi4AGb8nHhN867eE5FM4vVoN6RiRfHOeaDiHs_/s1600/IMG_2133.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBi040efrZalIXkbCVH2J8eiJAQQIwPkaMHJjpL26UXsEVqJbLNuM6_bRjQ6ITpAen5wCfOqbbUTC99wZWT7GGGfC0iwBUvnvRudqL_Umi4AGb8nHhN867eE5FM4vVoN6RiRfHOeaDiHs_/s320/IMG_2133.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5485648815920280530" /></a>after lunch we headed back to the hotel to get ready for what turned out to be quite the night of partying. just wait....it gets awesome.....<div><br /></div><div>so.....we headed to the other side of the island to the Viceroy hotel to watch what was supposed to be an amazing sunset.....but the overcast night had another plan. Still, the hotel was AMAZING. The drinks at the bar fresh and delicious and the company fantastic.</div><div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div></div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaCpVTjTksXdpAUltejoRG_nGwtzv7xRUMSy59UIf51_pznhlsyDhbjn4OnhBr1voy1UaGm_qJvhgk-UFEV4bkxouJEpuUFuwDErLsz85xeLHuw47KSjWtthGnql01WBgquZkN2oZfXC9x/s320/IMG_2144.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5485650009449416706" /><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDXT1nsq6rx7A7wtcTVofY7vPxNgBwyPVlAxbfZDZybxQkiQFMh0LYkbkOqXJVWd8wbvahrEpHg-pFvx3uaecbAIGMHQp7Bt67mRo-UHJ-H-I8kO5pdWheQOALpMjuBbOBbSGINqvgA842/s320/IMG_2146.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5485650023365355186" />and by company I mean...."hey! look at the crab!"<div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbi4xd6vkIUNT6vRFeXMiUIklUEbhzXSWYX2Op23J00VkmXc8CUFvDf-NRokZq650JILgx0Hzx9faQCgXIzzwXAt9xCLrMkJDqQ2N9esCUx0F3iMI1v_Rdc0pxUf1vGIuHybTDjI8W4xk-/s320/IMG_2153.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5485650035426602994" /><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">"I'm going to get a photo with the crab!!"</div></div><div><br /><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5ckWTQh5rnaotmwK8zR28naUSN4OMk6596jEji9sYj9bUDrP73kXG-EJbSvHHn7mUe8xAtqUKzogmKe7bj4TIXbWkqBT7skWvaiJ5i5dMzm1Agi70hnbgw_RcLRKKFaa0r5HcXIPm0pIe/s320/IMG_2154.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5485650448936432626" /><div style="text-align: center;">"Damn. Too close".</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjx6VWoaxsLTOihbxGWnqeYY9VRUbomaV-h1NLnQM4WwJe1lqgRdOTtCZA61ov9A6mf9tv4IPdf2vbEw5U9jvvcTECdfJyCeqMR95yYDfV23dpj15FN_OnbDxld_ztlUZp-dnTm7_ZjZ4Xe/s320/IMG_2155.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5485650457536300578" /><div style="text-align: center;">"Shoot! Stupid thumbs up is blocking the crab!!"</div></div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgl3GvP1qGKgvnifhGbSiaua5lW6PLVoyWBjXkKjR5df55IJSEYQAEiTSRDQmyF8q9-Sa7I8VYFqC3F8YF3pGEyQUuMR_uUSCvrwDATY8L-1tXTvHzPMNReQmuUEzEA_v8fHo94TlDbh999/s1600/IMG_2156.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgl3GvP1qGKgvnifhGbSiaua5lW6PLVoyWBjXkKjR5df55IJSEYQAEiTSRDQmyF8q9-Sa7I8VYFqC3F8YF3pGEyQUuMR_uUSCvrwDATY8L-1tXTvHzPMNReQmuUEzEA_v8fHo94TlDbh999/s320/IMG_2156.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5485650048449359506" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">"Theeeeere we go!!!"</div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">While at the Viceroy we made friends with our bartender/waiters and they kept asking "are you going to the Pumphouse?" (sidenote: i have no idea if that is one word or not).....apparently anyone who is anyone was going to the pumphouse. So.....naturally.....we headed to "The Pumphouse". Now.....the pumphouse, turns out, WAS the place to be for tourists and locals alike. A band played steel drum island versions of tunes like Taylor Swift's "You belong to me" and everyone was dancing up a storm. Including me.....with my new best friend....</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsUU1WElBJf4IuvgGjhnkDAwxkyfXDbvKfc5aXBly4a5RfemfxDPCcTnDYtw9Ldv_TrBbBDXYsmqtOPRowInrL_DL42PZmA-yCh8hI5lm-pLhmQIsirZaFUN9xwkwFWuR4EOumhag5ANyk/s1600/27073_437897698857_725998857_5701765_7995980_n.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsUU1WElBJf4IuvgGjhnkDAwxkyfXDbvKfc5aXBly4a5RfemfxDPCcTnDYtw9Ldv_TrBbBDXYsmqtOPRowInrL_DL42PZmA-yCh8hI5lm-pLhmQIsirZaFUN9xwkwFWuR4EOumhag5ANyk/s320/27073_437897698857_725998857_5701765_7995980_n.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5485652392232201794" /></a><div style="text-align: left;">Then there was the ill conceived round of Jager shots.....</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2sU4oJxj4pZrBE-hj07xju68aLE7M5WKsKTGWrB_XaqUnSBWgbtlmS-njYxoL2ZPSEYQV5St7lGM2brIIjISDVeD5PgIlfobr-t0xh2t4zGHzp2q0eJaKiiIn_7pq1XeWCTsClT_9EEI6/s320/IMG_2173.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5485653011233747762" />Always seems like a GREAT idea at the time.....<div><br /><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnAWLxUq0F2My3nyzD6DNwoXtf3pM2xvttaT1XUHENrXzUFtC0Q9RqujKZtK1PITlFrrdQljdAjYd747XQHEKGgqFsgqSNshByZqoWgUS-sgUOMxh5JM7y6KBKvve9YW5VTX3IJTvBaENC/s320/IMG_2175.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5485653023899685794" /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1SfnQldXXC895LzEQlSzFSar5mHJy7K0KpD0DfthX_kJ-eI04qBXU5WkPji5NIJa-UJgD02B5zjug1hMYY8_HDTgS8tfQPVSBjL8sAXr2L_5KSQWszMJJ3kZFWN41C7eKb4WVn7NW47-A/s1600/IMG_2176.JPG"></a></div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1SfnQldXXC895LzEQlSzFSar5mHJy7K0KpD0DfthX_kJ-eI04qBXU5WkPji5NIJa-UJgD02B5zjug1hMYY8_HDTgS8tfQPVSBjL8sAXr2L_5KSQWszMJJ3kZFWN41C7eKb4WVn7NW47-A/s1600/IMG_2176.JPG" style="text-decoration: none;"><img style="text-align: left;display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1SfnQldXXC895LzEQlSzFSar5mHJy7K0KpD0DfthX_kJ-eI04qBXU5WkPji5NIJa-UJgD02B5zjug1hMYY8_HDTgS8tfQPVSBjL8sAXr2L_5KSQWszMJJ3kZFWN41C7eKb4WVn7NW47-A/s320/IMG_2176.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5485653038717464402" /></a>Okay...I guess even at the time it seemed like a bad idea....</div><div><br /></div><div>Needless to say the night went a little like this:</div><div><br /></div><div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlXnjz07Ix0svGtmh19_hWkfkk2XCkoC2Gdc66lbTkRrT4etoWOQmSw3hQ_reqf6wh-LUryf6prT57K2P1FKUi6Vf8Z3DjvW62tPJHXDFyeoeodwrd8Zbp8AGB5HqJqdMYCbUfTkhqxi3G/s320/IMG_2163.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5485653640830593346" /><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSNb7iczwZbH-EkFeDlsxyl7jzRJvykrPEtp0BS4zxkqJ0M8NyELiyMGsUqFiNnXekJXukIff5Wx315VKtelBD095ubBpHkEgDM3sRsW_rAzWUEstsEGHo6d8TCq82Go-b-nPIq57Hk6A9/s320/IMG_2157.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5485653633932899810" /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4jAWoF9F0S5S1_uXeWY1kYNE91D7rr8bAv-PqqExDWb58yyT9M8ycLKFEc18G1o7K_Y-7i2VgYm5SHbauHFgOhmSCFnjJet75jqfCioetxHAQ4fpNMS69TWivQGRWmWFIhcAGDSbwjUg5/s1600/IMG_2159.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4jAWoF9F0S5S1_uXeWY1kYNE91D7rr8bAv-PqqExDWb58yyT9M8ycLKFEc18G1o7K_Y-7i2VgYm5SHbauHFgOhmSCFnjJet75jqfCioetxHAQ4fpNMS69TWivQGRWmWFIhcAGDSbwjUg5/s320/IMG_2159.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5485653650141924002" /></a>A local dog found it's way to the bar....he was clearly starving and all skin and bones....so we started feeding him pieces of pizza.....</div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihgZ3xxmHTiMQZhgx8qj3mnGxUXncZ6UM4vpw2Xx26qg2UWLdPx9WskUcpDeXGNv3fi7P-Y8UWTvMeTG_QggWBopAkpAfIdWtmq5XbB5Cewrqnn9Dy1boEyAFnk1rW7STUc-Ojrk2oiHwZ/s1600/IMG_2171.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihgZ3xxmHTiMQZhgx8qj3mnGxUXncZ6UM4vpw2Xx26qg2UWLdPx9WskUcpDeXGNv3fi7P-Y8UWTvMeTG_QggWBopAkpAfIdWtmq5XbB5Cewrqnn9Dy1boEyAFnk1rW7STUc-Ojrk2oiHwZ/s320/IMG_2171.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5485654167587964210" /></a><br />He liked it.......A LOT......see?<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0tT9KGV7malsk56Y289MigjIua9hlGb7KIX1K0kACJJfMQVDABRQZxeML1Cc7vRZBAPrAEtXehi6d4kF8hf-_5IPuy2p3vj_iVqt6Q28447VsoBAaDrI_3vYZKVz_sa0c2BiKtuoy6HCS/s1600/Picture+6.png" style="text-decoration: none;"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 242px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0tT9KGV7malsk56Y289MigjIua9hlGb7KIX1K0kACJJfMQVDABRQZxeML1Cc7vRZBAPrAEtXehi6d4kF8hf-_5IPuy2p3vj_iVqt6Q28447VsoBAaDrI_3vYZKVz_sa0c2BiKtuoy6HCS/s320/Picture+6.png" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5485654515227533682" /></a><br />And that pretty much puts a cap on the end of our first full day in Anguilla. Just wait for the next day in which everyone is hungover and goes on a BOAT! Hilarity ensues....."T-Bone" Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00388295799913646592noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-403669506115155332.post-75535016882496975072010-04-21T17:12:00.001-07:002010-05-05T17:11:00.840-07:00Travel Day One- Tropical Island of Splendor.Aaaaaaand we're back. (Ok. we've been back for a while, but life is crazy busy and you're just now getting an update. deal. mmkay? thnx.)<div><br /></div><div>I feel even more exhausted now that we're back than I did before we left! Let's just say that Anguilla is a long way to go for three full days. I'm not complaining...it was absolutely worth it....but seriously....traveling to the Caribbean from the west coast is no easy feat. After a long day at work, we left the house Tuesday night at 8pm to make it to LAX for our 10:20pm red eye flight to Philly. After a 3.5 hour layover in Philly we boarded another four hour flight to St. Maarten where we went through customs and hopped on a ferry to Anguilla where we went through customs again. Then we hopped in a cab that took us across the island to our hotel....where we arrived at 3pm the next day. Aaaaand scene.</div><div><br /></div><div>After arriving at our hotel with THIS VIEW:</div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmt9MkUe-dmXGv_VfM15GbuIQHOn-LarafvdLqMVmWTQXt_ywctsEekf8ma7BYNOCEdzWq6u70UlIy_IYtVnrErat7f4h6CP6abJal-f44tNErqQqHGZonPaQZe3O49S1Um6hwfW1fPbEC/s1600/IMG_2113.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmt9MkUe-dmXGv_VfM15GbuIQHOn-LarafvdLqMVmWTQXt_ywctsEekf8ma7BYNOCEdzWq6u70UlIy_IYtVnrErat7f4h6CP6abJal-f44tNErqQqHGZonPaQZe3O49S1Um6hwfW1fPbEC/s320/IMG_2113.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5462751449541118114" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">(yes. i took that photo. from our balcony. it's not from the brochure or anything)</span></div><br /></div><div>We showered and headed down to the bar for some drinks and mingling. Then on to an amazing gourmet dinner at Veya where I proceeded to stuff my face with the best johnny cakes and red snapper you've ever tasted...not to mention the vanilla duck that tasted like french toast. Seriously, like FRENCH. TOAST. in...a good way. I neglected to take any food porn photos so forgive me. you'll have to trust that it was awesome.</div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUBMdFWXrcXm5wAkgjzRwwGZrZJ_Y-Dk5BUUFxW_gmaH8nAxlSOVcPJhQeFSjEWRSct_suW0S4hHmQ8euYN4GFbLaBY8pPvUHdRroh6cobU17Wfc4oNTS9tMDMDVsBooAndc5UGFf-T0-0/s1600/IMG_2110.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUBMdFWXrcXm5wAkgjzRwwGZrZJ_Y-Dk5BUUFxW_gmaH8nAxlSOVcPJhQeFSjEWRSct_suW0S4hHmQ8euYN4GFbLaBY8pPvUHdRroh6cobU17Wfc4oNTS9tMDMDVsBooAndc5UGFf-T0-0/s320/IMG_2110.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5467942578435192642" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">(at the rehearsal...we look a bit tired, no?)</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div></div><div>And that...concludes our day of traveling.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>"T-Bone" Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00388295799913646592noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-403669506115155332.post-77905576648650775852010-04-13T17:05:00.000-07:002010-04-13T17:12:20.708-07:00Anguilla BoundAs the hours tick away til we're beach bound there's lots of little last minute things to get done...and one big one that I can check off the list. Invitations have been officially designed, ordered and deposit paid for. YIKES! We're getting maaaarrried. <div><br /></div><div>I'm actually really happy with how they turned out and am excited to see it all put together....even so..these invitations have so far been the one wedding "chore" that has threatened to break my resolve to not get too stressed about wedding planning. I'll admit I'm a bit overwhelmed as we start to think about the details, but am excited that another BIG thing is checked off the list. Now I can enjoy four days of rum punch and sand in my hair. </div><div><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQg_IrxDWpdxC-BG7zYrI6O-ih1B3YzkbHrsB1GH3T1sLTZH4NWzTxPqvmEqRcAIjMGmuSMrk9xGEp66jlHeZPUWM3qVDINTPidBrVMLd9WSgs-e0uVK3M-AqOTuQLqX2uWx_GYSWYq1UY/s1600/photo_ku18.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 206px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQg_IrxDWpdxC-BG7zYrI6O-ih1B3YzkbHrsB1GH3T1sLTZH4NWzTxPqvmEqRcAIjMGmuSMrk9xGEp66jlHeZPUWM3qVDINTPidBrVMLd9WSgs-e0uVK3M-AqOTuQLqX2uWx_GYSWYq1UY/s320/photo_ku18.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5459778876883137698" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Yes. Fantastic.</div>"T-Bone" Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00388295799913646592noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-403669506115155332.post-18812465716302028652010-04-12T16:39:00.000-07:002010-04-12T16:44:38.082-07:00Things always get crazy right before vacation....Oh man....I really can't wait until we're on a plane Anguilla bound. Last week was an exhausting and trying week at work and today has only proved to be worse on many levels. With a busy work day filled with stress and topped off with a healthy dose of trying to get our wedding invites finalized before we head off on vacation so they can be ready to send out when we get back, I am already wiped. Another hour left of work and then some working out and teaching pilates to do. Sigh. Here's hoping everything gets done on time.<div><br /></div><div>On a positive note Indy is seeming better. He stopped limping right when we started him on the anti inflammatory but on Saturday he was hobbling a little bit (we think he may have over exerted himself) and then back to fine last night and this morning. Here's hoping he won't be needing x rays when we get back.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>"T-Bone" Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00388295799913646592noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-403669506115155332.post-77941086068064983012010-04-07T17:39:00.000-07:002010-04-07T17:53:43.891-07:00Indy and his fragile bones....I had to take the mutt to the vet yesterday.... poor guy has been limping for a few days and it doesn't seem to be getting better. Turns out the vet thinks maybe he just strained his knee tendons and that some rest and doggy advil will help...fingers crossed. If it's not better in a week we take him in for some x rays.<div><br /></div><div>BUT!</div><div><br /></div><div>In less than a week we leave for Anguilla to attend a friend's wedding (cuz how can you pass up THAT invitation!) and if you may remember from our<a href="http://tbonelee.blogspot.com/2009/07/little-rain-cloud.html"> last trip out of the country</a> Indy decided to up and get sick before that trip too! Luckily we've got Sam watching him again (thanks Sam!!) and that makes me feel all sorts of safe... but seriously, what is with this dog!? He better not try to pull any of this nonsense before our honeymoon!<div><br /></div><div>In other dog news Indy weighed in at the vet at a whopping 107lbs!!! GOOD. GAWD!! The last visit there he was 96lbs and the vet agreed that he should lose about 10lbs to get back to that lean 96. When we adopted this beast we were told he would weigh 40-60lbs. I would say I want my money back...but I don't. Not even a little.</div></div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRyBm7QGXoK3XeHbcubJlzMjj0-dXUEPkLKgFiJ147KE2JrtQHptPTASIzQ8-xF-TUcI0ucZ88cTBao3p04raraxSvlPk_17MBKJSvb8D2m9HwoUjsvI3yVuznMMe-rsyDX_eM4BC4zvAk/s1600/25833_427535637588_538317588_5469918_1191998_n.jpg"></a><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRyBm7QGXoK3XeHbcubJlzMjj0-dXUEPkLKgFiJ147KE2JrtQHptPTASIzQ8-xF-TUcI0ucZ88cTBao3p04raraxSvlPk_17MBKJSvb8D2m9HwoUjsvI3yVuznMMe-rsyDX_eM4BC4zvAk/s1600/25833_427535637588_538317588_5469918_1191998_n.jpg" style="text-decoration: none;"><img style="text-align: left;display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px; " src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRyBm7QGXoK3XeHbcubJlzMjj0-dXUEPkLKgFiJ147KE2JrtQHptPTASIzQ8-xF-TUcI0ucZ88cTBao3p04raraxSvlPk_17MBKJSvb8D2m9HwoUjsvI3yVuznMMe-rsyDX_eM4BC4zvAk/s320/25833_427535637588_538317588_5469918_1191998_n.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457562998680011346" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><div style="text-align: center;">It's probably this kind of behavior that made him hurt his knee....but sometimes you just gotta get the crazies out.</div></span></div>"T-Bone" Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00388295799913646592noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-403669506115155332.post-59978734472492423492010-04-02T09:32:00.001-07:002010-04-02T19:36:25.912-07:00Can we just do an evite?After a mini meltdown last night over the fact that the woman who is "supposed" to be designing our invitations hasn't emailed me in three weeks (!!) and I have no idea if she is even doing our invitations despite repeated desperate emails:<div><br /></div><div><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">chris: "If we have to fire a vendor, we'll fire a vendor"</span></i></div><div><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">me: *sniff*</span></i></div><div><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">chris: "We'll hire a vendor </span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">just</span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> to fire them in front of the other vendors....We'll gather them all in one place and make an example of out em."</span></i></div><div><i><br /></i></div><div>It's funny how the one wedding "detail" that was never even really a huge priority to me (invitations) has turned into the biggest hassle.</div><div><br /></div><div>On the bright side we are going cake tasting tomorrow...so that's fun.</div><div><br /></div><div>UPDATE: She emailed me today...saying that she would send a proof tonight....I'm not holding my breath.</div><div><br /></div>"T-Bone" Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00388295799913646592noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-403669506115155332.post-39022373895544300262010-03-24T16:24:00.000-07:002010-03-24T16:36:40.696-07:00Let them eat cake!!I made appointments for us to go cake tasting on April 3rd. Yay! That should be fun, right? I agree. We've got appointments at two different bakeries that work with our venue to work it into our catering package..... so as to avoid incidents like the one below.<div><br /></div><div> I LOL-ed (he he. nice.) at work when I saw this clip because it's just....SO. TRUE. sigh. <div><br /></div><div>oh weddings. you are a wacky wacky beast. </div><div><br /></div><div><object width="425" height="385"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/gimiDBAK2wA&color1=0xb1b1b1&color2=0xcfcfcf&hl=en_US&feature=player_embedded&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowScriptAccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/gimiDBAK2wA&color1=0xb1b1b1&color2=0xcfcfcf&hl=en_US&feature=player_embedded&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" allowscriptaccess="always" width="425" height="385"></embed></object><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-small;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-small;">video found on </span><a href="http://adesertfete.blogspot.com/"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-small;">a desert fete</span></a> </div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-small;">clip from Man Stroke Woman</span></div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">seriously though. CAKE. </span></span></div></div>"T-Bone" Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00388295799913646592noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-403669506115155332.post-59310321635477409652010-03-15T12:10:00.000-07:002010-03-15T12:26:38.878-07:00Busy Little BeesThanks guys, you're swell....and I <i>really</i> appreciate all the kind words and support...sometimes you just need to be told you're being a crazy person. <div><br /></div><div>I am getting SO excited for July 31st and am realizing just how quickly these next four months are going to go. SO much to do! and it's getting harder and harder to fit it all in. Chris has spent the last two weeks working a ton of overtime (getting home at 11 Friday night. boo!) and with me spending days working, nights and saturdays trying to finish my teaching hours for my certification it's all we can do to log some quality couch snuggle time on Sunday just to start it all over on Monday. We've also got the looming project of fixing up our guest room and turning it into a functional office/guest room. We bought a kick ass (read: expensive) sofa bed for the office...one that is both a comfortable bed <i>and</i> couch...and it arrived on Friday. Problem? Needing to rent a truck and go pick it up. Laziness (read: hangover) got the best of us this Sunday and we will be gone next weekend...wonder how long they'll hold it...</div><div><br /></div><div>Hopefully we'll get to our minor room remodel of new baseboards and trim and some paint before the wedding. On the horizon is also some new sod for the front and backyard. I would show you our back lawn, but it's too embarrassing for the internet. It's just a bunch of dead grass, thriving weeds and a giant dirt hole courtesy of Indy. You get the idea...not summer BBQ worthy. It's times like this that I really want to win the lotto. Being independently wealthy would solve 93% of my problems.</div>"T-Bone" Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00388295799913646592noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-403669506115155332.post-88298431459744094332010-03-09T11:45:00.001-08:002010-03-10T10:16:57.069-08:00Welcome to my neurosis. Grab a bean bag chair and a juice box...I have about half a dozen unfinished drafts of posts that I just either haven't gotten around to posting or have thought better of posting due to writing while emotional or just plain venting and not wanting anyone to take my post too personally....This wedding planning bidness...it is CUHRAZY! <div><br /></div><div>I think even the few people that read this blog would never realize what an insecure people pleaser I can be (I can hear them scoffing now), but damn if wedding planning doesn't just bring that out in me... When it's just the two of us making decisions I get excited, it's easy (...ok...that might be a total lie...easi<i>er</i>). But when you take the parts of the wedding that include our community...the community of friends and family that we so <i>desperately</i> want to include in our day...that's when things get stressful. I was discussing with a friend the other night about whether to have a socal bridal shower in addition to the one being thrown for me up north...and ended up saying (without even really thinking about this before I said it) that all I'm really worried about it that no one feels inconvenienced by our wedding. Gah! I, personally, have never ever felt inconvenienced or put out by a bridal shower, or bachelorette party or wedding...not even a little. I have felt excited and honored to be included....but when it comes to our wedding I just imagine everyone sitting around rolling their eyes and with big heavy sighs saying "<i>another</i> event surrounding their wedding??? geeeeeez....I'd rather be home mowing my lawn". Chris and I were talking last night about how we're wondering if our friends in LA are just seeing this as "the thing they are doing on their saturday night" because they'll just drive in....when it's such a HUGE day for us...such a huge happy day. Or I worry that out of town guests or bridal party members resent the money they will spend to fly in or go to events. All this insecurity and anxiety has left me with a knot in my stomach most days that's hard to shake and hard to explain. I know a lot of brides to be stress about what color linens or flowers to go with...and those choices are not at all what I find stressful about planning, but this stuff? GAH!! Maybe I'm just being crazy and overly sensitive...but I'm pretty sure I need to chill the eff out about it all. </div>"T-Bone" Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00388295799913646592noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-403669506115155332.post-91050616541430400642010-03-04T09:21:00.000-08:002010-03-04T09:23:18.056-08:00Just because....<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoU3MBGcHHIDKxSkqMpgUN0vp_27T2p3SbquELRCghh_VWfcJo7086aIe_aEDw0saRTlYmqlc2n8EsBEXR_or1zp8zTibXg53Lf5tdUTUp8aoikpJuPAgq1DeqQTsu_dLkzg9eBW3bpmRm/s1600-h/niblet_4.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 256px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoU3MBGcHHIDKxSkqMpgUN0vp_27T2p3SbquELRCghh_VWfcJo7086aIe_aEDw0saRTlYmqlc2n8EsBEXR_or1zp8zTibXg53Lf5tdUTUp8aoikpJuPAgq1DeqQTsu_dLkzg9eBW3bpmRm/s320/niblet_4.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5444830310156501346" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Because how could this not make you smile....just look at him! LOOK AT HIM!!!</div>"T-Bone" Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00388295799913646592noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-403669506115155332.post-78645691648324982032010-02-22T23:46:00.000-08:002010-02-22T23:50:43.623-08:00Well then.Today was a bummer of a day...for me it was just one of those days where you wake up in a funk. Nothing seems to go right and nothing anyone can say makes you feel like your life is going anywhere....and one thing after another just add up...even minor setbacks feel like giant hurdles impossible to overcome. Then we got some bad news about Chris'<img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 188px; height: 133px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEif54Uhehtcu5OhUPA4dp0nATS-c6dGbsg_QzDYHvuhMUIlrgW9UBAeyFjOUBqDBLIRr26IyG48Zn30Gak2smp3iWhOpRU5HPyfx5E0SaxCiR0l_pdsHfwXbEwIXpOMVOWXDlO2p-MczBKp/s320/rain+cloud.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5441343069011833074" />s grandmother's health and I would like to say that it put things into perspective, but it really only made today seem like one big giant poopsicle. We played a bit of Super Mario Bros. tonight on the Wii...and that was nice. <div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Here's hoping tomorrow is a new day.<div><br /></div><div><br /></div></div>"T-Bone" Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00388295799913646592noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-403669506115155332.post-27109108503026701672010-02-19T15:52:00.000-08:002010-02-19T16:20:01.492-08:00The Silent KillerHey! Like the new template? I appreciate it for it's clean simplicity. It makes me want to write in the blank spaces...and that's good since I have clearly been an absentee blogger.<br /><br />I have another post prepped all about our Valentine's weekend...but that doesn't seem very timely now, does it?<br /><br />I could also tell you about the amazing dinner I made on Tuesday night....Red Bean Chili and Buttermilk Chive Biscuits (from scratch...yeeeeeea. they are amazing.) But I have no beautiful pictures to share with you of my creations so that seems a little pointless....<br /><br />So I'll tell you about our misadventure from last night.<br /><br />We had a little visit from our friendly (and strapping) Burbank Fire Department. At around 8:45pm we were in the midst of an enthralling episode of Gossip Girl (as a sidenote: you've never seen a man more excited to get NetFlix in the mail than Chris when the second disc of Gossip Girl arrived yesterday. He likes to phrase it as "i bet you're excited for Gossip Girl!". We all know who's REALLY excited for Gossip Girl...but I digress). So around 8:45pm we hear chirping....a three chirped alarm going off in the hallway. We've been having problems with an unruly smoke detector who constantly mistook the steam from the shower for smoke, but we put him out of his misery a couple weeks ago and there was nothing cooking, no one showering......it was our Carbon Monoxide detector. Immediately we were both a bit flummoxed. I mean...what do you <span style="font-style:italic;">DO</span> when your CO detector goes off? I hopped on the google and everything says to 'GET OUT OF THE HOUSE!! CALL 911!!! YOU'RE SLOWLY DYING!!!". I read off the symptoms of carbon monoxide poisoning and immediately Chris and I both start to feel light headed, nauseous and head achey. We contemplate that maybe it's just the battery, but there's a separate light to warn you if the battery is dying. Chris reads off the back of the alarm that says "CALL 911! DO NOT PASS GO! DO NOT COLLECT $200!". The only other thing I could find online was that we needed to have a "qualified technician" inspect our appliances before we could reenter our house....but no explanation of what KIND of qualified technician. We called an emergency HVAC company who seemed thoroughly confused as to why we decided they could actually help us in any way. We had opened up all the windows and turned on the ceiling fans, but you can't just go about your evening when you're pretty sure you're being slowly poisoned....You can't go to bed<img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh269wCsteD_6ElUzaNWMkmZXylOqoTDtlkb_GFRnbrCGFrtKbmwk2u17OIeRl8fY_NJrova2WAhgIgs7dTEV_mNTUMF9GYsJIO4kIILsoRQJJ_97U9V48MDu_oKEk87OL0jiOtS4F0vpR4/s320/CO-decal.gif" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5440113148294644290" /> with a CO alarm going off! First off all you can't sleep with that chirping...second of all...we could die in our sleep! Carbon monoxide slowly filling up the rooms....Indy would be the first to go!<br /><br />So after a call to my mom to reassure me it wasn't stupid to call 911 we made the call. Within 5 minutes the fire department was at our house....the first thing they ask us? "Did you try changing the battery?". I immediately felt stupid. "Uhhh no. we figured if it was the battery the BATTERY light would be going off and the thing wouldn't be chirping three times'. They made us swap the battery out but the only one we had was completely dead...so that wasn't very productive. They checked all our pilot lights and gave our house the old sniff test for any gas...and declared us SAFE. They promised us we wouldn't die and told us that we might want to go ahead and replace our alarm....since it had been there since 2001. "uhhh...thanks guys! sorry to bring you all the way out here!". After they left I picked up the alarm and gave the back a once over....where I found the following:<br /><br />"1 chirp- replace battery<br />3 chirps- replace alarm<br />4 chirps- GET THE HELL OUTTA DODGE CUZ YOU'RE DYING!!!"<br /><br />I don't want to place <i><b>blame </b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;">or say that the giant fire truck in front of our house could have been avoided</span></i>, but I would like to point out that I was <b><i>not</i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"> the one that read the back of the alarm....I'm just saying.....</span></b>"T-Bone" Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00388295799913646592noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-403669506115155332.post-39505546210852813652010-02-01T10:54:00.000-08:002010-02-01T16:19:43.401-08:00Only in LA.......is this a real conversation between your friends on Facebook.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikUA7PfDx2ILdN2NS3CbJQ60CzRdOkhi0ZoqcfYlir8RwvztpByYINuNQQ0FUvvnJ2VvNYYzmIo-8jDmg3ez3-ovGJG9T8PZUPDRGhqI1Yk_1oIPF3onCZVNq3GEuiLGtcmwqGioJyPa3x/s1600-h/Only+in+LA.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 246px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikUA7PfDx2ILdN2NS3CbJQ60CzRdOkhi0ZoqcfYlir8RwvztpByYINuNQQ0FUvvnJ2VvNYYzmIo-8jDmg3ez3-ovGJG9T8PZUPDRGhqI1Yk_1oIPF3onCZVNq3GEuiLGtcmwqGioJyPa3x/s320/Only+in+LA.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5433434121354117266" /></a>"T-Bone" Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00388295799913646592noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-403669506115155332.post-19043059334143827872010-01-13T15:38:00.001-08:002010-01-13T15:40:02.780-08:00My dreams they are odd.The night before last I had a dream that my dad, my fiancé and my brother all went out to get breast implants. My mom and I had gone shopping and were meeting up with them. As we strolled through the mall my mom turned to me and said "oh...you know...those men and their breast implants". <div><br /></div><div><br /></div>"T-Bone" Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00388295799913646592noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-403669506115155332.post-91987575282895180222010-01-11T09:39:00.000-08:002010-01-11T11:16:51.152-08:00What a strange night....Around what I can only guess was about 3am this morning I was in and out of sleep when I heard Indy whining and staring out the sliding glass door of our room into the backyard. The sensor activated light by the laundry room in the yard had gone on and Indy was on alert for whatever set it off. This isn't unusual...on occasion we just tell him to go back to bed and he begrudgingly obliges with a huff. At other times I've opened the door to let him go check out whatever was bothering him. This time I got up to pee and thought "one of these days he's going to bark. that's when I'll be concerned." As I headed back to bed from the hallway I heard him let out a loud bark. Then another. He rarely ever barks. Chris woke up and I looked out the window with Indy. I couldn't see anything...but then the light by the laundry room when off..and my eyes played tricks on me. I thought I saw something...some<i>one </i>by the laundry room. <div><br /></div><div>I'm still not sure what my reasoning was, but I opened the door to let Indy go check it out....to reassure me that there was nothing there....but Indy had seen what was there...and he TOOK. THE. EFF. OFF. But not in the direction I was looking. He took off and I saw him full speed ahead tackle a small animal in the back of the yard. My mind raced. "Great", I thought. "He's gonna get sprayed by a skunk". He lunged on the animal. From the bedroom door I could barely make out what was happening. Then Indy backed up as the animal went still. I could only see the butt of the thing...it was smaller than I thought it would be. Indy stood above it...staring at it with an intense glare. It didn't move. I couldn't tell what it was, but I didn't see the large rat tail I was looking for to confirm it was a possum.</div><div><br /></div><div>All the while I kept trying to yell at Indy in my loudest whisper to "come! leave it!". I was convinced he had killed whatever it was. I tried not to think that it might have been a cat. Indy moved away from it...then decided to go back and check on it...maybe he saw it move. The animal let out a loud HISS. My heart lept in my throat and I was convinced he had tackled a cat. My mind flashed back to an article I read about a woman who's dog chased down a kitten in their back yard and shook it to death. I grabbed a shirt that was close by (I have no idea what I thought I would do with it) and ran out into the lawn to enforce that Indy leave whatever it was. When the animal hissed it had hopped up and backed itself into the corner of the yard by the fence and a large planter box. I had turned on the light and could see the thing's face. It wasn't a cat. I was convinced it was a baby possum. The creepiest looking baby possum I've ever seen (I've only seen one other baby possum). It didn't have a long nose. It looked like an owl actually and it moved it's head back and forth. Even Indy was freaked out. He backed away when I called him. He clearly had decided this wasn't anything to be too upset about and, while keeping an eye on the possum, took a pee. Then follow me inside. Never relaxing too much. I just stared outside at the animal in the corner. I'm not sure why but the look of this thing really freaked me out...the way it's flat face moved side to side. </div><div><br /></div><div>I'm impressed with the restraint Indy showed although I'm not sure what would have happened if the thing hadn't played dead at first. I do also feel safer knowing Indy is on alert....although chris and I have decided I shouldn't open the door for Indy to go investigate anymore. No good can come of that.</div><div><div><br /></div><div>As I fell back asleep the light went back on and Indy let out another bark. We told him to shove it.</div><div><br /></div><div>I had a dream after all the excitement that there was a crazy lady in our backyard in a giant possum suit. We had sent Indy outside and he caught her. She got away but he got her suit. In the furry possum suit were large quantities of drugs. Giant ziploc bags full of marijuana and tiny bags full of pills and powders. Her family came by the house with cops asking if we had seen her. She was mentally insane and dangerous and we were told to keep our windows and doors locked and drapes closed. </div><div><br /></div><div>Needless to say it was a weird night.</div><div><br /></div><div>UPDATE: So I went to google some images of possums (because what is a post without a photo) and have realized that maybe it wasn't a possum that Indy found. I think it was an owl. I didn't see a tail and this was a much smaller animal. After googling images of a Common Barn Owl I'm pretty sure that's what it is. The Owlets (baby owls) are known to play dead when attacked and they will hiss or rasp when startled or attacked.</div><div><br /></div><div>Well that doesn't make this any less weird, does it?</div><div><br /></div><div>UPDATE II: Apparently possums hiss when they are attacked too...and naturally they play dead when they are attacked.</div><div><br /></div><div>I guess we'll never know.</div><div><br /></div><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgI75aIvdbYuOenFsZIE_ViTZ5nwsVJMyTGmuvHXJXnb52-l8qkJ5BbStQ9TwHupyTf0SXLo5ymgz8ZZYYg0ZfqNC2JH6S3s1wi9MUYPTb58aVF4fd_E1cq-DyyNZEmL0Kb9OmWCRFImalx/s1600-h/possum2.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgI75aIvdbYuOenFsZIE_ViTZ5nwsVJMyTGmuvHXJXnb52-l8qkJ5BbStQ9TwHupyTf0SXLo5ymgz8ZZYYg0ZfqNC2JH6S3s1wi9MUYPTb58aVF4fd_E1cq-DyyNZEmL0Kb9OmWCRFImalx/s320/possum2.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5425545303002261890" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCJF_TLwhqQeGLU9vw91Nkj7hNoegh7UahN6Ro3b4AFtvHfA8ZZu865LKnAvAhtT80a3NatKHoRGyhcUdO8BqVjCoji5aYG2MOypw5-6LzneHxRlPU0s9PlvGnM7pjiU47fZVaAEtDmnXC/s1600-h/species-Tyto-alba-1.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 224px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCJF_TLwhqQeGLU9vw91Nkj7hNoegh7UahN6Ro3b4AFtvHfA8ZZu865LKnAvAhtT80a3NatKHoRGyhcUdO8BqVjCoji5aYG2MOypw5-6LzneHxRlPU0s9PlvGnM7pjiU47fZVaAEtDmnXC/s320/species-Tyto-alba-1.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5425545297974059522" /></a><br />Could go either way....whatever I saw out there....it was one of the creepiest animals I've ever seen.</div>"T-Bone" Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00388295799913646592noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-403669506115155332.post-64771695732346910872009-12-17T09:52:00.000-08:002009-12-18T11:06:54.615-08:00Good morning ladies and gentlemen, this is your pilates speaking<div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div>Have you noticed that I've been, shall we say, <i>absent</i> lately? If you were to see me in person you would have noticed a slight glazed over, exhausted look on my face as I stumbled through the last four months of my life trying not to fall over in the middle of conversations. I've been working towards a new direction in life....one that I really hope makes me a happier person, a better partner and eventually (I said EVENTUALLY PEOPLE!) a more available mom...to both furry and not furry children. In addition to working full time I've been getting certified to teach Pilates. And that, my friends, is why this blog has fallen slightly to the wayside.....well and because in addition to the working and Pilates (which occupies every night after work as well as my Saturdays and Sundays), we have this little thing called a wedding we've been trying to plan...gah! Not to mention Christmas!<div> </div><div>So my point is that is that last night I took my final test and PASSED!! YAY!!</div><div><div><br /></div><div>I still have a lot of practice teaching and observation hours to complete before I'll be fully certified to teach and it's not like my life is going to get any less busy anytime soon, but last night I passed the test that I've spent the last four months working towards and that feels so good. Merry Christmas to me!<br /><div><br /></div><div>yay!</div><div><br /></div><div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIFvBPlTIQE67pe0QkwsqnZ9K1Z1Znpa5LWyd-GOskyfOwOy_5zOwPAhsBkJMqr5ywGpYfUaxIbB1QUsaVJCWQoCCLppbzgq3_sbJb29FbmFC39d8mgIXOrjrRO8PDwlnD2K61o6n9jSY5/s320/funny-pictures-cat-stops-turtle.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5416654539735328162" /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">I don't know why I had to add this...it just made me laugh...</span></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div></div></div>"T-Bone" Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00388295799913646592noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-403669506115155332.post-83751079500648421222009-11-13T09:34:00.000-08:002009-11-13T10:03:24.094-08:00Grover On MarriagePlanning this wedding started off fun and exciting...but I admit.... I've hit a wall. I'm overwhelmed by the decisions and the seemingly vast number of tasks ahead of us and the very limited amount of free time we both have. The problem is that there seems to be an endless to do list with each and every decision requiring careful thought, discussion, planning, meetings and hours of back and forth conversation. I find myself starting one task (DJs!), getting overwhelmed and moving on to a different one (HONEYMOON!) and then a different one (INVITATIONS!). It's easy to get lost in what it all means...and I'm trying to constantly remind myself that the important part is that we're getting married and that all the people we love most will be in one place cheering us on ( would it be tacky to give everyone foam #1 hands to sport during the ceremony?)...and that is awesome.<div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/UQJvSzkVfRg&color1=0x2b405b&color2=0x6b8ab6&hl=en&feature=player_embedded&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowScriptAccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/UQJvSzkVfRg&color1=0x2b405b&color2=0x6b8ab6&hl=en&feature=player_embedded&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" allowscriptaccess="always" width="425" height="344"></embed></object><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Well that sounds nice....I'll sign on for that!. :)</div>"T-Bone" Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00388295799913646592noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-403669506115155332.post-38854738994847286452009-10-29T15:13:00.000-07:002009-10-29T15:31:44.135-07:00I feel bad...but not bad enough not to press "publish post".Friends, Internets, Strangers....I'd like to tell you a story about my friend....hmmmm what shall we call him to maintain his anonymity....ah well...fuck it...it's Linus. That's his real name. (Hi Linus!).<div><br /></div><div>Just a few months after I moved to LA (six years ago) I got a panicked phone call from Linus telling me he needed me to take him to the hospital because he was REALLY sick. I immediately hopped in my car and rushed out to the west side not knowing the lay of the land or where ANY hospitals were. At the time Linus was attending a certain southern california film school (anonymity!) and was on a student health plan which required him to use a specific hospital. I asked him what hospital, but he didn't know...so I tried calling his mother or sister...or the nurse associated with the school's health plan...all while driving around Los Angeles in the dark, a strange part of a new city while Linus moaned and whined in the passenger seat. Finally we decided to just go back to his apartment...where I made him some <a href="http://www.airborneeffervescenthealthformula.com/pages/airborne-effervescent-health-formula">Airborne</a>....as it fizzed Linus whined about why it was so bubbly and fizzy and how he couldn't drink it and how it tasted bad. I made him soup...and as he took a sip he gagged dramatically and spit it back in the bowl...I thought maybe he was about to yak....but no....the soup was just too hot. Poor little bunny.</div><div><br /></div><div>It should known that Linus didn't have the bird flu (that was all the rage at the time) or an appendicitis....so don't think me cruel...sure he was sick, but...well...c'mon. He was "man sick".</div><div><br /></div><div>So...I came across this little gem of a clip on <a href="http://dooce.com/2009/10/29/forever-family-four">dooce.com</a>....(read her entry about her husband's vasectomy. so funny.) and could not restrain myself from writing this post....sorry Linus....I told you! I COULDN'T resist. I tried...but I <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">COULDN'T</span></span>.</div><div><br /></div><div><object width="425" height="349"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/rXLHWmjA5IE&rel=0&border=1&color1=0x3a3a3a&color2=0x999999&hl=en&feature=player_embedded&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowScriptAccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/rXLHWmjA5IE&rel=0&border=1&color1=0x3a3a3a&color2=0x999999&hl=en&feature=player_embedded&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" allowscriptaccess="always" width="425" height="349"></embed></object><br /></div>"T-Bone" Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00388295799913646592noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-403669506115155332.post-3453905756194531532009-10-27T15:58:00.000-07:002009-10-27T16:01:08.943-07:00Giving the Platypus a run for it's money....I swear to god this is a real animal.<div><br /></div><div>Internet, this is the Mexican Neotenic Mole Salamander.</div><div>Mexican Neotenic Mole Salamander, this is the Internet.<br /></div><div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 233px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxz4MzM6qdeG_lTXPng6NuHl9xAEqQoUIGOvUV4ceVAbCe0_VYVKoyrdX8l6KHZcc6wgtT43vqN0hvVn5DZHmHrt44HGX8ZZHXZ7CA_Fvtvjj1ZBsmFQO4qHiOsR95LGPVvdRLD2t56Nus/s320/slide_3158_44678_large.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5397418563237110594" /></div><div><br /></div>"T-Bone" Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00388295799913646592noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-403669506115155332.post-87347764920215618832009-10-20T12:46:00.001-07:002009-10-20T12:51:34.859-07:00Dream Crusher.<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">Me</span>: "<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">I'm gonna be a lady bug for halloween...and wear a red tutu.</span>"<div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">Chris</span>: "<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">Ladybugs don't have red tutus"</span></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>well. duh.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>"T-Bone" Leehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00388295799913646592noreply@blogger.com1