Observations:

1. What is up with the matching outfits? They didn’t even do that back in the day.
2. Donnie completely fell back into his character. The baseball cap, the untucked shirt, the flirtatious pulling up of the shirt…very cute.
3. Poor Jon still can’t dance. But at least he didn’t have a panic attack and die. I wonder what meds they have him on.
4. I cracked up at the hootchie-soccer-mama backup dancers. I don’t think a-one of them is a day under 30.
5. I had some of the merchandise the women in the audience were sporting.
6. This is the best song they did, I suppose because it was written for their voices now. They don’t sound as good when they sing their older stuff.

Now, tickets go on sale tomorrow for their concert in Atlantic City. Tickets are $85/$125. Shit. This is not the time for me to be dropping $125 on a boy-band (man-band?) ticket. And I’ve sworn off the credit cards until they’re all paid. Maybe if my stimulus check was already here.

So as the New Kids realized they can’t do all the old dance moves like they used to and wisely re-choreographed some songs, I have to realize that I’m an adult now in a crappy economy and an uncertain time and I’m going to have to wisely let the party go on without me.

17″ necklace: Sterling silver toggle and crimp beads, pressed flower pendant from Lily Studios, 6mm amethyst beads, silver and purple seed beads.

Earrings: 24gauge sterling silver wire, sterling silver ear wires, beads from above, and 4mm purple Swarovski crystals.

It’s a HUGE leap of faith in oneself to rely strictly on one’s own skill when making a gift for somebody else. I had started planning this out at the end of March. I bought the amethyst beads (her birthstone). I made the necklace. I screwed it up. I took it apart.

I decided I wanted to do some exquisite wirework on the necklace. I bought the silver wire. I realized I had no wireworking skills. Nor do I have a jeweler’s hammer, anvil/bench block, or jig. I abandoned the project and started thinking about going to Macy’s for a top for her.

Two weeks ago, I thought “Screw it.” and strung the necklace again. Two days later, I saw the pressed flower pendant in a bead magazine. Mom LOVES the pressed flowers exhibits at the Philadelphia Flower Show every year. I ordered the pendant.

It arrived the day before Mother’s Day. I restrung the necklace. But I needed more. So I decided to break out the unused silver wire and make earrings.

DO YOU KNOW HOW *(#%^@(* HARD IT IS TO TWIST TWO IDENTICAL EARRINGS???? I SURE DIDN’T!!!

Sorry for yelling. And I know they’re don’t look 100% identical. But they’re ARTISAN, dammit! (twitch)

Long story short, she loved them, and once I verify that the earring wires don’t break, sproing open and slash Mom’s jugular, I may make a few of that style for myself!

He keeps his birthday low key, and that’s fine. So Happy Birthday to you, my Wandering Minstrel. We make beautiful music together.

<3

A fond memory of my youth is watching my Mom dye her hair. I’d sit in the hallway and watch her in the bathroom preparing the mixture as if it were a very solemn ceremony. She’d let me peel the plastic gloves off of the instruction sheet.

I’d sit in the hallway because hair dye REALLY stunk.

So she’d dye her hair, wrap it in a beat up old towel (either the ripped gold one or the bleached out pink one) for the required time, and I’d be sure to be present for the after-rinse unveiling. Sometimes she’d be pleased with the result. Sometimes she’d let out a small whimper.

But six weeks later, we’d be there again.

I’m no stranger to dying my hair, as the hostess photos can attest to. My God…the highlights. (small whimper) Lately, I’m trying to get it all one color, preferably the one I THINK I’d have if I had never started dying my hair in the first place. Quite a Sisyphean task. But more often than not, I consider going darker again…that golden brown I had last January.

I bought the above towel about six years ago, specifically for the hair dye process. The bleached out words say “Good Hair Day” which is cracks me up every time. As I was folding laundry tonight I noticed that the various stains on the towel tell a neat story of the colors I’ve tried and the colors that aren’t there because I was too chicken to follow through with the idea (black, black, and black.)

And maybe it’s because Mother’s Day just passed, leaving me (as it does every year) with the acute realization of what’s missing in this abundant life I live. But in the back of my brain…I’d like to think that someday I’ll have a daughter who’ll laugh with me at this beat up towel as I share my own tales of hair dye derring-do.

Don Adams was 42 years old when the Get Smart television series began in 1965.
Steve Carell was 44 years old when the Get Smart movie began shooting in March, 2007.

Barbara Feldon was 33 years old when the Get Smart television series began in 1965.
Anne Hathaway was 24 years old when the Get Smart movie began shooting in March, 2007.

So we go from having nine years difference between Smart and Agent 99 to TWENTY years difference?

Come on, Hollywood! You couldn’t find a 35 year old actress to be Agent 99? Are Jennifer Garner, Cameron Diaz and Gwyneth Paltrow too old and busted?

I guess they’re only available to leading men 55 and over.

Happy mothers day!

John, Mom and me. Happy Mother’s day!

Knight Park, Collingswood

And people say New Jersey isn’t pretty.

Gannett offers voluntary buyouts to select N.J. employees

Gannett’s New Jersey newspapers offer buyouts

They’re offering buyouts to employees 55 and over who have been with the company for 15 or more years. Obviously, I’m not eligible, but it’s scary and sad nonetheless because now I keep thinking, “What happens if they don’t get enough buyouts?”

Eight years ago, I thought working for a newspaper was the most secure job ever.

I LIKE what I do. I LOVE working for the local paper that I delivered as a kid. And I’m happy as HELL that I work on the online side of things because I feel slightly safer.

So anyway…to my eligible coworkers - take the buyouts! Please!

When it’s done, you have a fun jingly bracelet with a lot of movement. Ollie watched me make the whole thing, so I’m naming this one “Ollie’s epic bracelet.”

This weekend before I got sick(er) Mom showed me a pendant and bead set she bought. They’re white with brown matrix. (Matrix is the term for a color swirled through a gemstone. Think of the black lines you see in some turquoise jewelry. Or fudge ripple ice cream. Or the frosting atop a toaster strudel. Forgive me, I’m very hungry.) We stopped in JoAnn fabric and I picked up some brown stone chips to go with. She’s swamped at work, so I did the necklace for her. I put the pendant on a headpin with two bead caps. The clasp is magnetic.

Presenting: “Mom’s Commission”

I had enough beads left over to make earrings, too!

And that’s all. I still need to fix my two “epic fail” bracelets from before. I tried to do a Tree of Life pendant but it ended up looking like a beady steel wool pad. I’d LOVE to do an illusion necklace next.

Mmm…toaster strudel. You know…I think I’ll have a nice cup of fat-free yogurt instead! (rolls eyes, sighs pitifully and slinks away to her miserable, sad, junk-food-free kitchen.)

Max has gone through a lot. He was picked up as a stray when I came across him at the Animal Orphanage. Shortly after he came home, he bit me twice. Hard. He hated anybody who wasn’t white and was really skittish around kids. He’d shake if you held up a stick or broom or anything that you could beat him with. We worked and worked the kinks out with lots of love and treats, and he turned into my little cuddlebug. He loves and licks people of all colors and sizes. He moved from the first apartment, to the house, then moved to this apartment with me. He put up with me leaving him with BvP for the first 8 months, then taking him to live with me last February. He adjusted to a new guy and a new puppy. Max is a champ.

Last year, we got Ollie. Ollie was from a cocker spaniel breeder in Pottstown. His birth was completely planned for and welcomed. He lived his first 2 months in a lovely suburban home with a big yard and lots of furry friends to play with. Then he came to live with us, and found some new furry friends, and an apartment with lots of activity, people, toys and two lovely parks in walking distance. He’s completely loving, trusting and outgoing with EVERYONE and with the exception of the neutering has never had a sad day in his short life. And he’s still a puppy, which makes him clumsy and adorable and overly enthusiastic about everything.

That, along with his floppy ears, soft curly fur and instantly recognizable breed, draws people to him. They’ll pet him in the elevator, in the lobby, and during walks. We get people approaching us in the park asking about him and asking to pet him. He loves the attention and responds in kind with licks, grunts and the occasional trickle of excitement-pee. Which people STILL think is adorable.

Max loves pets and attention but is far past the ga-ga crazy puppy “LOVE ME!” stage. His fur is brown and black and wiry, not soft and curly and inviting like Ollie’s. Problem is, many of the adults who pet Ollie completely ignore Max. This is not a problem with children…they tend to love and pet both dogs. But teens and adults will pet Ollie, ask about his breed, and ask if he’s a good dog. Max’ll sniff their shoes and hands cautiously, but he usually gets the shaft. Then he’ll shuffle back to my feet and sit there, patiently waiting for the Ollie love-fest to end.

This breaks my heart and short of seeming like an overbearing parent (”Make sure you pet Max too!”) I have no idea what do. WM and I just pet Max ourselves and tell him he’s a good boy.

NB: The post title comes from Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie’s two daughters. Zahara was adopted from Ethiopia…had a shitty start but lucked into a charmed life with two loving parents and pretty much any luxury she could ever want. Shiloh, her little sister, was born into this Hollywood lifestyle and is regularly dubbed America’s most beautiful baby. While the Jolie-Pitts show equal attention to both girls - at least in photos - Shiloh is fawned over more by everyone else.