Voice of an Angel.

Seriously. Have tissues handy.

Blog Fodder via Shelly...

This comes via an email from my friend, Shelly, and it was way too good to pass up as blog fodder:

1.YOUR DETECTIVE NAME: (favorite color, favorite animal)
Yellow Callie

2. YOUR MOVIE STAR NAME: (grandparent on your mom's side, your favorite candy)
Zola Jelly Belly (OK, that? Sucks.)

3. YOUR "FLY GIRL/GUY" NAME: (first initial of first name, first two or three letters of your last name)
M-DET (oh hell, yeah. I'm starting my own M-DET brand now)

4. YOUR PORN NAME: (first pet and current street name)
Butcher Alderbrook (damn. I sound like a 1940s ganster in Brooklyn. BTW -- Shelly, you win with "Princess Ambrosse")

5. YOUR SOAP OPERA NAME: (middle name, city where you were born)
Jane Louisville (Lame.)

6. YOUR STAR WARS NAME: (the first 3 letters of your last name, first 2 letters of your first name, first 2 letters of mom's maiden name, and first 3 letters of siblings name)
Detma Pasco (Fabulous. I can see me in a long pink dress now. Admit it. That's an effing great name. They should cast me in the new movie.)

7. TERRORIST NAME: (middle name spelled backwards, your mom's maiden name spelled backwards)
Enaj Enyap

8. SUPERHERO NAME: ("The", your favorite color, favorite drink)
"The Yellow Martini" (Fear the olives, evil doers)

M-Det, out!

Oh, the irony of being a mother.

1) I can get my child to do my housework just because I said so.

2) She thinks it's fun. When I thanked her for dusting, she held up her palm and said flippantly, "Oh, it's nothing, I just like to dust..."

NOT the Good Humor man.

At what point in time did the men who drive ice cream trucks -- sorry, scary white vans with no windows -- become cracked out pedophiles? Seriously. We have two who troll, er, drive around our lovely, upscale neighborhood looking to get kids high on sugar. But they're all nasty and gross, wearing wifebeater tanktops and sporting some foul-smelling hand, rolled cigarette hanging from their gnarly lips. Ew. Like I want Boo to get a popsicle from THAT. (In fact, there's probably meth next to the boxes of ice cream for those "customers" looking for something stronger). And why the hell do they drive through at 9 p.m. RIGHT. Like I'm really going to give my kid a sugar-filled treat so she'll stay up bouncing off the walls while I'm trying to watch "
"Big Brother."

With that said, here are the 5 Worst Ice Cream Truck Stories:

**A man from Brooklyn, NY became enraged when his $18,000 custom ice cream truck was taking too long to complete. Rather than relax with a delicious snow cone, he took a train to visit the manufacturer in Oregon and shot an employee in the head.

** Cops arrested a man in Texas selling $5 to $10 bags of marijuana to school children from an ice cream truck. Police didn't witness any sales, but they found drugs mixed in with the frozen deserts (ed: told you). Although the outside showed pictures of the delicious dairy treats, the inside had plenty of drug paraphernalia. The song of the ice cream truck signaled that "pot-sickles" were coming.

** In an incident of ice cream truck road rage, the driver of an ice cream truck stabbed a man in the chest with a screwdriver in south Florida. The man told police that he was being followed by the ice cream truck and was stabbed after getting out of his car to confront the driver.

** In Kansas City, some dude flipped out after ordering an ice cream sandwich from an Ice Cream truck and started shooting. The driver had serious injuries.

** A man in the UK was convicted of piracy when he sold bootlegged CDs, DVDs, and video games from his ice cream truck.

Yikes.

Sorry for the lack of posts. It's been an eventful week, with BooBerry sick with a mystery ailment two days... it's hard being a mom and not being able to make it better, especially when the doctor can't really tell you what's wrong. (I believe that would be 80 points for a medical mystery to the doctors at Seattle Grace.)

My friend Lori, who has been living in Turkey since 2006, has returned to the land of the living this month and will be visiting this weekend. We're sorority sisters, former housesmates and bridesmaids in each other's weddings. Sometimes, you just click with a person, and despite distance, time and life changes, you somehow manage to stay friends. The pictures of the military base in Turkey

We've got brunch at Limestone on Sunday morning –– always a good time with Bill's aunt and her roommate. Although this time we made the reservations for 1 p.m. –– stupid Kentucky laws. Stupid no Bloody Marys before 1 p.m.

Um. Live Big Brother tonight?

Sharon ('sup ol' yeller -- does she ever NOT YELL during her diary sessions) and Sheila (OMG. So hawt in her glory days.) up on the block.

Both nominated in the end. Who knew eviction was tonight? I didn't.

So I'm glad OL' YELLER left tonight. She's a nice girl an' all in a wow-need-some-botox-in-the lips-and-good-haircut-kind of way. Sheila? Still has some game left (albeit weak. We're lookng at a Ryan/Adam finale, I believe, folks). LAME.

Meh. Don't care who wins now.

OH YEAH, BRINGIN' ON THE BROADWAY!

Ok. Andrew Lloyd Weber on "American Idol"? Forget Mariah Carey. HELL, YEAH, ANDREW. The only person better would have been Alan Menken. Or Stephen Schwartz. (Anyone who knows me knows my Make-a-Wish dream is to be in a musical.)

Say bye bye to Brooke. While she was singing, I felt like there was no Santa Claus. Puppies died while she was singing. Kittens screamed in pain. Somewhere, fairies DIDN'T get their wings.(CHARMED I'm sure you're saying "GIRRRRRRRL. TOL' YOU SO!)

15 SECONDS of silence from Paula? Um, yeah....

But can I say that how divalicious Syesha Mercado sounded? Seriously. I hate her, but I'd watch that bitch in "Dream Girls" (not that I've even seen the movie. Or can recognize one song).

And Carly? HOLY SHIT. "Jesus Christ Superstar" so kicks "All I Ask of You"'s ass. And I love the latter. (Plus, this is one of the first dates Bill took me too here in Louisville when we first started dating! And he hates musical theater! Even though he knows I love it!)

Finally.

David.

Cook.

David Cook.

David Cook. David Cook. David Cook.

Singing "Music of the Night."

OH.

YES.

He stared into my soul (Bill, go away. Watching Idol). He sang directly to me (dammit, dog, do you have to go outside now?).

Oh.

Wow.

Another reason why I ...

LOVE DISNEY.

Also, forgot to mention ...

... Gossip Girl was back with an all new episode last night, and my girl Blair did not disappoint. Really, if you're not watching this show, you're missing out –– I can't fathom this world (oh, please. Like LOST could really happen, people.) of extreme wealth and MY GOD these kids drink. A lot. I didn't taste a martini* until I in my twenties and had a hard time choking that first one down** because it tasted like perfume infused with olive juice. Seriously, their livers must be positively pickled by now.

I sure wouldn't want my kid watching it ... but hell, I'll watch a test pattern*** obviously.


* Because I? Was missing out.
** Not a problem now. Or is it...
*** Paradise Hotel 2 is NOT the original.

Effing HUNGRY.

Pretend I'm the tiger and the baby
is a sausage, egg and cheese biscuit.

I have a doctor's appointment at 1:15 –– just a physical –– and I'm supposed to fast until then so they can do blood work. Apparently, that sounded fine when I made the appointment six months ago, but now that I have six HOURS of an empty stomach ahead of me (not to mention that I'm dieting, which means there's not a whole lot in there anyway) I am NOT. HAPPY.

A hungry Mandy is a hateful Mandy. So my co-workers have that to look forward to this morning.

RIP, baby dove.

Baby dove is dead. Now I can obsess about something else.

"I don't like it either..."

We woke up this morning to this:

Which seems to fit the mood around here, as Bill and I got about three hours of sleep last night. Boo's sick and currently camped on the couch flanked by warm Sprite and a trashcan. It's awful when you can't make it better for the little ones and have to wait intil 8:30 to call the doctor... She's periodically crying and saying "Mommy, I don't like this day..."

On the dove front, the male bird was kinda squatting on the baby, which didn't seem to be moving this morning... not sure if it survived yesterday's fall and/or being ignored for hours...

Dove Watch 08.

Well, the baby bird fell into the basket of old blankets I'd put beneath it... I used an old sock and picked it up and put it back in the nest next to the funky egg. The mama just sat right there the whole time and didn't do anything to me. If they push Baby out again there must be something wrong with it and Ill let nature take its course.

UPDATE: I walked out a while ago, and the mama was sitting on the baby again and I was thrilled. But when I took the dog out, the baby was outside the mama, and the poor thing looked like it was trying to burrow under the mama's wing. Really sad.

Doves' Parenting Skills SUCK.

So, my doves' parenting skills are of the Britney Spears variety. I'm a little heartbroken, since the second egg hasn't hatched (and doesn't look like it's going to). Here's a picture of "shift change" yesterday -- that's the male in the nest and the female on the railing:

This morning, I went out to check on them, and the male clearly wasn't sitting on the egg, and the fugly little baby was squirming in front of him and it is chilly outside. I wanted to beat him:

A few minutes ago, I went outside and caught shift change AGAIN, and LOOK WHERE THE BABY IS:

Holy shit! I have no idea what to do. I put a basket underneath it in case it falls. I wonder if there's something wrong with it and they're trying to push it out of the "nest"...

UPDATE: The mama's sitting near the baby. I got a long stick and tried to "push" the baby's leg back onto the shelf and mama pecked at the stick, so I'm assuming they're still caring for it.

Dumb birds are worrying me sick.

Raw Fish is Yum-O.

Hell, yeah. Bring it on.

Boo's at my mom's tonight stuffing her face with cookies, chocolate milk, candy and other sugar-coated shits she doesn't get at home, so Bill & I are having another sushi date night at Osaka. Yeah, we'll probably order the boat again and I'll go all Jack Sparrow on its ass.

I swear to God...

... if Bill doesn't take me to see "Forgetting Sarah Marshall" today* as promised I'm going to completely go ape shit. Every movie I've wanted to see lately he has said "ehhh" to (admittedly, he and I do not share similar tastes in movies. Unless Katherine Heigel somehow managed to turn into a ninja WHILE blowing shit up during a 90 MPH drag race WHILE being chased by aliens in "27 Dresses," I didn't have a snowball's chance in hell of getting him to go see it with me).

The last movie I saw in the theater was "Enchanted." (Which, BTW, was fabulous. I've been breaking out in to song in the park for the past 6 months, but nobody seems to want to sing the chorus with me. Go figure.)

We're also going to go buy a new vacuum today. (The last big purchase we made was the Toro last summer -- a huge, overpowered man tool known as a lawn mower. Bill had to go get gas for it, so he parked it on our front walkway so all the neighbors would see it and know we had a new lawn mower and be totally jealous. I swear, I expected the menfolk on our cul-de-sac to stand around it, scratching their balls and spitting while proclaiming what a beautiful tool it was.) OF course, we're going to Sears to buy the new vacuum, and Bill will deny me my shopping rights**. Dammit. What's the point of going to the mall if I can't peruse the merchandise? Stupid men and their stupid man tools.


UPDATE: We've talked ourselves out of going to the movie because we will not get to dinner until 8 p.m., and a hungry Mandy is a hateful Mandy. So instead, we're going to hang out at the house and then go eat an early dinner and maybe rent JUNO at the Red Box.


* Paul Rudd is spankalicious.
** I'll have to turn the Whine-O-Meter up if I want to go to Old Navy and the Gap.

Having a good morning already.

I went to Kroger this morning to pick up a few things for a photo shoot today at work and got $20 in cash back. Got to work and realized I hadn't actually gotten it out of the machine. Shit! I called Kroger on the off chance that it was still there -- and it was! They're going to put it at customer service desk for me to pick up on my way home from work.

Also, I thought I'd left my favorite pink Yves St. Laurent sunglasses at the immediate care center, but I found them on the floorboard of my car.

Finally, I went searching for a hairband to pull my hair up and found one while looking for my sunglasses.

I should just go to bed now while the day is still ripe.

Baby time!

Wednesday morning, I walked out on the front porch to check on RoseHeart (the dove who's laid eggs in a display case on the side of our porch -- Boo named her. Go figure). There was a tiny piece of eggshell on Wednesday morning. Yesterday, Boo yelled that she saw the baby*, one of two.

"U-G-L-Y you ain't got no alibi"

And here's a picture from this morning:


She had another egg under there somewhere. Hopefully, that one hatches soon.



* Effing ugly ass thing.

Earthquake.

So, thanks to a trip to the immediate care center last night, I was completely high on decongestants (the doctor thinks my ear is just clogged. Here –– have a $20 copay, Dr. Knowsalot) and I got approximately 3.75 hours of sleep. (I was asleep, however, after Bill came in to the bedroom after taking the dog outside at 3:15 a.m. and said she'd acccidentally brought a "mess" in with her and we had to change the sheets.)

Really, shouldn't a decongestant labeled as "nighttime" help you fall asleep instead of making you feel like you're completely tweaked on meth?

Anyway, imagine my surprise at hearing there was a fucking 5.2 magnitude earthquake at 5:37 a.m.? I actually SLEPT THROUGH IT. Ridiculous.

And even though I slept thorough it, I'm sure it was still more exciting than the EARTHQUAKE: The Big One ride at Universal Studios.

Lame-o.

My co-workers who live in Southern Indiana felt it -- it actually woke them out of their beds. Lucky.

Vote for Mo!

My friend Bridget is an awesome cake decorator. She's entered this gorgeous, pink MANDYLAND-like cake (look! It even has an M on it. OK, her daughter's name starts with an M, but that's just coincidence) in Family Fun's Great Cake Bake-Off:


That's a cake!

Can you believe it!

I can't even make toast!

I may be a little biased, but I'm pretty sure her cake takes the cake. So everyone go out and vote it #1. You don't have to register -- simply hit the fifth star! Good luck, Mo!

ACK!

My ear hurts! Is it possible to get an ear infection without having a cold or any other symptoms? I'm hoping it's just allergies maybe.

I have a physical next Tuesday; tried to reschedule, but the next appointment wasn't available until October. Holy shit!

You know...

Threatening to knee your husband in the nuts over AIM just doesn't pack the same punch.

WTF?

Welcome to DINNER IN THE SKY. For a price of 7.900,00 (I don't even know how much that is -- and gratuities are not included), this company will hoist your ass up in the air for a private dinner, complete with a chef, waiter and entertainer. It's for rent for up to 8 hours. My question is -- what if you have to pee?

Apparently, Forbes has listed the company in its ranking of the 10 most unusual restaurants in the world. Ya think?

More MEME

Stole this one from YAWW:

ONE WORD ANSWERS, ONLY, if you're planning on stealing this one, too:

You're Feeling: tired
To Your Left: door
On Your Mind: dieting
You Sometimes Find it Hard To: stop
The Weather: chilly
Something You Have a Collection of: DVDs
A Smell that Cheers You Up: dunno.
A Smell that Can Ruin Your Mood: smoke
How Long Since You Last Shaved: days
The Current State of Your Hair: flat
The Largest Item On Your Desk/
Workspace Right Now (besides computer): lamp
Your Skill with Chopsticks: dangerous
Which Section You Head to First In the Bookstore: new
and After That?: romance
Something You're Craving: Cabernet
Your General Thoughts On the Presidential Race: hopeful
How Many Times You've Been Hospitalized this Year: 0
A Favorite Place to Go for Quiet Time: bedroom
You've Always Secretly Thought You'd Be a Good: actress
Something that Freaks You Out a Little: buttons
Something You've Eaten Too Much of Lately: junk
You Have Never: bungeed
You Never Want To: sky-dive

Prom Time? Be glad it's not 1994.

Over at Suzanne Sez, Suzanne brings up an interesting topic: what was your prom like? I've been discussing it with some friends, and while we laugh now, it was totally serious at the time.

I can tell you mine completely sucked. I had run for senior class president and lost to the bratty incumbent and she, therefore, was head of the prom committee. So we ended up having ours at a crappy Holiday Inn. It rained (and by "rained" I mean POURED and completely ruined my Payless Shoe Source Dyables shoes -- shut up, options were limited), and apparently the Holiday Inn had a leak in their roof and it dripped down on the dance floor. And the staff remedied it by sticking a chair with a bucket on top of it to catch the drips on the dance floor. Classy.

Also, in 1994, it was all about sequins and slinky pageant-style dresses. I had neither a sequins or slinky nor a pageant-style body. Also, full figured girls got the shaft in 1994 and had a choice of either "Mother of the Bride" style dresses (SO HOT to an 18-year-old) or one of three plus-sized dresses at Bacon's, which I knew -- just knew -- somebody else would end up with (and I was right -- a cheerleader named Danielle bought the one I was close to buying, and she had a smokin' hot body. Somebody was lookin' out for me there...)

So, I'm sure you're wondering what I did. I went vintage. I wore my aunt's circa-1980s scrumptious velvet and taffeta concoction. It was burgundy and looked purple and black in certain light. I had to have it altered a bit (she was taller and thinner than I) but I STILL love that dress and would wear it again in a heartbeat. Still, if you're reading this and are in high school, you are so fucking lucky. Today's dresses are awesome.

Our theme song was some R&B crap called "One Last Cry" and I'd never even heard of it. Oh, and my prom date was a junior drama club friend who had the BIGGEST GLASSES ON THE PLANET. Seriously, if I could find the picture, I would post it -- they totally dwarfed his already-small head (easy there, don't jump to conclusions). Imagine the little turtle, Toby, in Disney's Robin Hood. Got that mental image in your head? Yep. My date looked the same.

As for an after party, I got talked into going on a cruise on the Star of Louisville. And they had a band, sure, for the CORPORATE PARTY also on the cruise. My group pretty much sat there stone cold sober (*sigh*) with Michael Scott and the entire Dunder Mifflin Scranton branch got schnockered and had fun.

Then my date drove me home, and ... well... that was it. Good times.

BooBerry's funny continues.

Last night, while driving to my brother's house, BooBerry announced that she wants to take Chinese lessons so she can learn how to be Chinese when she grows up. Aside from the fits of giggles (me) and head shaking (Bill), we tried to tell her that it would be technically impossible for her to be Chinese when she grows up (so much for dreams, kid).

In honor of Boo's fascination with all things Chinese, here are a few photos in her honor, courtesy of googling the word "Chinese":

This kid is having a very bad day.

Nothing good could come of this.

Gee, don't face masks come in a Mandyland shade of pink?
One has to look good while warding off pollution.

Think any of these guys got laid during
the Chinese New Year? Yes? No? You be the judge.

Snazzy. Dresser.

2004. The Year of the Regis.

"Suck it, Kelly Ripa."

BooBerry's watching "Lilo & Stitch: The Series" on Disney Channel. And the voice on this one character is familiar. So very very familar. And he's wearing a suit. HOLY-FRICKIN-COW. It's Regis Philbin playing Regis Philbin on "Lilo & Stitch: The Series." WTF.

According to TV.com, Regis Philbin was the first celebrity to play himself on the series. So, wtg Regis, for further whoring out your resume.

Weird Story of the Day.

SOMEBODY SOMEWHERE HAS GOT TO BE MISSING THIS ZEBRA.

Seriously. WTF?

Breaking News!

Callie ran out of the front porch and around the side when I opened the door. I chased her down and scooped her up and came face to face with a mourning dove who has built a nest on my four-shelf stand. It has a two eggs.

Apparently, males and females look alike and BOTH incubate the eggs (why can't HUMAN MEN STEP UP, TOO?). Bill wanted to knock it out (cold and heartless, honey) but Bella starting sobbing and Bill said it could stay. (It's not like we're ever on that side of the porch, and you can clearly see I'm using the shelf well.)

Update coming when the eggs hatch.

QUOTE OF THE DAY...

BooBerry has a sleeping bag bordered by stools and ponies on the floor. She's doing some sort of geisha dance, and she said:

"Look at me, Mommy! When I grow up, I'm going to be Chinese."

A Question about Dragon Tales ...

BooBerry's into a show on PBS called "Dragon Tales." Two of the characters are Zak & Wheezie, a two-headed dragon. One's male, the other's female.

So, they share a body.

So, is it possible for them to impregnate themselves?

Technically speaking?

Bad Day.

I'd contemplate taking a bottle of pills and washing down with a fifth of vodka, but I'd miss "Big Brother." Hopefully, the rest of the week will be better than the first two days of pure, unadulterated FAIL. I've got stress coming every which way outta my ass.

Baby Seals are so cute.

I'm cute. Don't beat me.

SIGN HERE TO STOP THE CLUBBING OF BABY SEALS IN CANADA.

Jeezus, Canada. You guys are nice people and have some good maple syrup and ice wine and ginger ale, so let's stop killing baby seals for their fur, eh?

I'm all jiggied up.

Went to the orthodontist today, and he's got me wearing a rubber band from my top brackets to the bottom on one side. I actually thought it was for orthodontic purposes until I realized how limited my speech is. I'm pretty sure it's a conspiracy between my co-workers, my husband and my mother to keep me from running my mouth so much.

And, it hurts. Bonus for them.

Seemed Appropriate for Today.

Being a parent sucks sometimes.

So, we got the magic blue letter that told us that Boo has been accepted into the traditional program (before you get all excited, it's a lottery process -- 425 preschoolers applied and they accepted 96). The only problem with the traditional porgram here is I think it's paper and pencil, and Boo is not a paper and pencil child (I don't think. Hell, I really don't know. She's FOUR.)

Meanwhile, we're still trying to get her hardshipped into the super awesome local elementary school where she's already enrolled in preschool (a strategic move to try to get her in in this fall). It's a mile away, but it's not in our stupid cluster (thanks to being one of only a handful of municipalities that still follows desegregation. Explain to me how this school is ONE MILE from our house, but the wealthy families who live 15 miles away can send their kids here. Yeah. THAT's fair.)

We're still not sure how the Supreme Court decision handed down last June is going to affect us, but Bill and I are all for the idea of neighborhood schools since she'd be able to go to Super Awesome School automatically instead of the ninja way I'm trying to slip her in now.

Nobody told me how difficult being a parent would be. And I only have ONE KID.

Is there a dream doctor in the house?

So I had another WTF dream last night. Bill and I were driving around Paris in a bus but we weren't sitting together (he was in the front seat playing on his iPhone thingy and I was a couple rows back). And we passed over this HUGE river with huge sailing ships (like pirate ships) going underneath the bridge with these little tiny dinghys and the river was so fast and the men steering the poor little dinghys were getting soaked and drowny.

And then we stopped at a hotel and I realized I had accidentally taken my dad's suitcase instead of mine, and we ate cheese and wine.

So, um, yeah.

Starting today.

I'm back on Weight Watchers. Looking all those skinny bitches in Vegas made me want to vomit. Wish me luck -- I joined about two months ago, but it was a stupid time to do it, as I went to West Palm Beach, had my birthday week, went to Disney World and then went to Vegas, which all adds up to a lot of eating and drinking.

I don't travel again until June -- and that's Minneapolis, not really a hot bed of either food or drink -- so I have absolutely no excuse, eh?

Bring it, I say. Bring it.

High School Reunion?

Really? Am I going to look like THIS in 7 years (Lana? The poofy scrunchies have GOT TO GO. Really, sweetie. No one has really used the full-out scrunchy since 1992. Or the banana clip, for that matter.)

I've been watching this show since the first season, and I find myself relating more to this season than I did to my own (c/o 1994) and that? Scares me. (Shut up, Ryan.) Jeezus. This season of balding fat men and haggard, desperate women make me so thankful for what I have and am.

(I'm just sayin', is all ...) Really. This show was so much more relevant when the "classmates" are twenty-somethings getting drunk and skinny dipping.

I have GOT to diet, though. And botox... Shit's going downhill, fast...

Vegas quick shots.

Bill and I rolled into the house about 3 a.m. this morning and I am so effing tired tired. Lots o' booze, and we hired two showgirls for the Rockin' Finals Party on Wednesday night and they were SO NICE. Seriously. LOVE THEM. They said women are usually mean to them:

Seriously. One is married and the other has a LT boyfriend. Love these girls.

My show boyfriend was back this year (HE IS HOT HOT HOT HOT) but he was only there one day. I've never talked to him but he is lovely. Dark hair, beard stubble...

I had the greasiest mook use the WORST PICKUP LINE ever on me... I was sitting at the company booth minding my own fucking business, and this bald, old fat guy walks up, takes my hand, covered it with his other sweaty, meaty paw and says, "I thought you were going to marry me and have my children?" My buddy Jeremy was in the midst of taking a drink of water and literally snorted it out and said, "She's got a wedding dress back in her room. She brought it just in case you showed up." And then he WALKED AWAY. Ugh.


Me with Josh (9one)'s wife, Jennie, and the ever patient
Kam from Canadian Pizza magazine. I'd had about 34
Bloody Marys and martinis by this pic.


Me 'n Jennie. (I hate my fucking braces.)


Josh, Jennie, Bill, Jeremy and a couple more were sitting in the Tempo lounge at the Hilton. The music swelled ... and then BAM! Three bartenders -- sorry, BEVERTAINERS -- began dancing. With choreography. We watched in awe -- and incredulation --for about 1 minute, and then WHAM! The music stopped and they all went back to work.

Did that really just happen? Was that a cumulative "Eli Stone" moment? Seriously? I'm still trying to wrap my brain around it, but Josh has pix, so it must've happened...

o hai!

I'm down 20 freakin' dollars here in a little town I like to call LAS VEGAS. Stupid effing DEAL OR NO DEAL machines.

On the plus side, we're on the concierge floor, which means free cheese, cookies, chips and WINE. And champagne! And cookies! And, did I mention wine?!?