15 WEIRD, RANDOM FACTS ABOUT ME

1) As I child, I almost fell into the blades of a working windmill in Holland. My poor mother still goes pale and gets heart palpitations when I bring it up.

2) I have an insane knack for recognizing voices... I'm like a voice savant or something. I wish I could figure out a way to make money off this "talent".... Maybe one of these days. But 'til then, the TV commercial voice-overs from obscure celebs continue to help me hone this bizarre skill...

3) I once wore two different shoes to work. Sad thing is, they were of two drastically different heel heights and I didn't notice it for almost 12 hours.


4) I had a poster of Bo Duke (John Schneider) taped to the inside of my closet door, growing up. I kissed it goodnight every night. I finally had to take the poster down because it got all jacked up-- eventually frayed and devoid of ink around the mouth.

5) My Dad is a minister and my Mom used to model lingerie. (Explains a lot, eh? hahaha)

6) The Queen of Pop and I share the same birthday, August 16. Incidentally, the King of Rock & Roll also died on this day in 1977. The way I figure, that makes me the Princess of Pock… well, or something along those lines. (Madonna / Elvis, by the way). Others celebrating on this day are Steve Carrell (Yay!), Kathie Lee Gifford (Not so Yay), Frank Gifford (yeah, seriously) and Vanessa Carlton.

7) I'm planning to skydive.

8) Although a law-abiding citizen in every other way, I have a penchant for lifting glassware from public establishments. My collection from BB King's in Memphis is quite impressive, if I say so myself. But my Acambaro cup at the office certainly hogs all the glory.

9) I've never been in the hospital or had any kind of serious illness or injury. I even stayed awake when I had all four wisdom teeth cut out. (Although, if I keep stealing barware, karma will probably catch up… Note to self…)

10) In the sixth grade, my feelings were terribly hurt when the boys at school nick-named me "Flat Girl". I was a late bloomer, but I guess I showed those jerks the next year...

11) My first car was a two-toned 1979 Monte Carlo. Very Napoleon Dynamite.

12) With a little help from Aqua-Net, I was Prom Queen in 1988.

13) In my entire life, I have only consumed a whole beer... once. Yes, you read that right: one beer in 37 years. I don't generally have a tricky gag reflex, but I had to shoot it to get it down… I abhor the taste.

14) I've dipped Copenhagen. I have to say I preferred it to the beer.

15) I once submitted a 14-page application and video, begging the Extreme Makeover TV show to pick me. In a cruel twist of irony, I weighed 30 lbs less than I do now.

16) I don't particularly like babies, Christmas or dogs. That one may not be a surprise to some of you, so that's why it's number 16... consider it a freebie of sorts!

I'd like to invite all of my blog-inclined friends to play along... if you post 15 weird, random facts about yourself, please be sure to let me know!

THE REESE'S-MOBILE

I saw this slick ride in Ft. Lauderdale last week, and just couldn't resist snapping a quick pic.

This may be a marketing vehicle (literally, a marketing vehicle) for Hershey, who has definitely done it's part over the years, contributing to my ever-expanding waistline with all of those sinful peanut butter cups. Maybe this is a peanut butter coupe? No, I think it was a sedan... but I digress...

I'd like to think that the person behind this wheel is a brand maven to the inth degree-- someone so snack-obsessed that they would spend their own hard-earned dollars to deck out a car in full Reese's regalia. Frankly, I admire that kind of commitment... you don't see that level of passion in most people. I wouldn't go this far, myself. Not that Reese's isn't a worthy product, but I can't see rolling up to work in the Reese's-Mobile. It would have to be something I've devoted my life to... a Diet Coke-Mobile, perhaps. It would also have to be something cooler than a Caprice. And 86 the rims.

So Coca-Cola execs, if you're out there and you feel the need for a little extra brand representation in NWA: Make mine a Diet Coke muscle car. Preferably the up and coming Camaro convertible, but I ain't choosy. I'll even dress up like a straw while I'm driving it around, if you like. I can't promise the straw won't be a little lumpy in a few spots... but that kind of goes back to the "too many peanut butter cups" thing I mentioned in the beginning. So let me retract my statements... I believe I may be a better fit for the Reese's-Mobile, afterall...

"DARE MIGHTY THINGS": WORDS TO LIVE BY

Who would've thought that stopping in at Bud & Mary's would yielded up this little gem of wisdom? This is a quote from Teddy Roosevelt, and I can't think of anything to add. Wonderful.

I just read a couple of days ago that under Roosevelt's administration the White House was renovated so that the second floor would accomodate his children's exotic pets-- including raccoons, snakes, a badger and a bear. A menagerie in the White House? Now that's what it means to dare mighty things, alright.

SUNSET OVER ISLAMORADA

On Thursday, we were still in Key Largo, contemplating the next move. Should we drive back up to Vero Beach or ramble around the keys one more day? Did we really have to ask that question... really? Like the Allman Brothers, I fancy that I too was born a ramblin' man (or something like that) so maybe it was more of a rhetorical question. Besides, these are the Florida freakin' Keys and there's no telling how long it might be before we are here again.

We thought we'd see about a tarpon fishing charter for the night and start the drive down to Key West to spend the day. That's one place I've always wanted to see, so we decided to completely disregard that we were moving further in the opposite direction of home, and just went with the flow. I think I'm missing Sydney and Spencer more than I'm willing to admit, because all I could think about were the polydactyl kitties down there. I needed to get to those cats... Well, those cats and Hemingway's house and Duval Street and lots of kitschy tourist swag... I know, nerd-o-rama. But the closer we got, the more excited I was.

Turns out, getting a charter set up "on the day of" proved a little harder than expected... it took a good two hours, which cut into my exploring-Key-West-time. Crap. But this is vacation so it's no biggie. As long as I get some beach time and some sun, I'm golden-- both literally and figuratively, which is infinitely better than being at home in the workweek grind. We'd booked a tarpon-fishing excursion to begin at 6 pm, so there was no time to enjoy Key West and do it justice, anyway. We found a decent place to soak up some sun, Anne's Beach, which turns out is a clothing optional area. Yes, we landed at a potentially nude beach, which I discovered when Googling nearby beaches. Thank goodness no one exercised the option! Vacations always shore up my fundamental belief that people, by and large, are just not cute. Not that there aren't plenty of homely folks in NWA, but there's a wider variety, including foreign travelers, away from home.

Ok, so we beached... we shopped... we ate... we relaxed... and finally met our Captain, Danny Brown, at the marina at 6 pm. I'm not that avid a fisherman, but being out on the boat was great fun. We'd already caught several kinds of fish from the dock in Vero, plus saw a porpoise, a couple of manatees and a gator so far on the trip, so I took a book to bury my head in. I enjoy fishing well enough, but for me the sights, sounds and smell of the ocean make it a total sensory experience that requires no action on my part to enhance it. Over the next several hours, we had several big tarpon bites and a good fight with one of them, but never did get one in the boat. What we did get in the boat, though, was a bonnethead shark-- a member of the hammerhead family with big round eyes on the side of its flattened head.

That was pretty exciting, I have to say.

But the best part of the whole trip so far...

Watching the sunset over the ocean. Ahhh...

I know there's no place like home. But I'm not ready to leave this halcyon paradise just yet. For now, let's stick with there's no place like the tranquil sunset over Islamorada. Papa, I'll catch up with you and your amply-toed felines next time.

PELICANS ARE FUNNY

Well, not as funny as goats-- but they have the same quirky, comical demeanor that makes them amusing to observe. For me, they're kind of the goats of the sea... except that they can dive down and swoop fish up and into their pouches. I'd like to see a goat do that.

We've been watching the pelicans swim around the docks, totally "disinterested" in the fishermen who are cleaning and filleting the day's catch. Kind of reminds me of the way people act when someone totes a box of Krispy Kremes into the office: A few swoop right in for the take... But most circle, behaving rather nonchalantly and engaging in idle activity that can be halted the nanosecond the coast is clear.

ISLAMORADA

KEY LARGO RESORT AT MANATEE BAY

Not too shabby for a former Ho Jo... I recommend it, if you're ever get to Key Largo. And I definitely recommend getting to Key Largo.

PHOTO OF THE AFRICAN QUEEN, KEY LARGO

AFRICAN QUEEN

The original boat used in the filming of The African Queen is docked at one of the marinas in Key Largo. One of the original steam engines can also be seen next door in the lobby of the Holiday Inn. I just IMDb'd the movie, and it's from 1951. I don't think we'll be taking the African Queen out for a cruise today, though the sign above says that it's for hire. Hmmm... Let's see... a rusty old vessel that required a lot of encouragement from the Captain (along with a few kicks and bangs from a hammer), before it sank at the end of the movie, 57 years ago? Call me unadventurous, but that doesn't sound like a great idea to me.

If I want to perish in a vacation-related boating activity, I'll just take in the Titanic exhibit next time I'm in Branson.

JULIE'S CORONA COMMERCIAL

Ok, so I don't actually drink beer... but I do "drink in" lovely sunsets in Key Largo. This is the view from the little beachfront at the Key Largo Resort at Manatee Bay-- which lived up to its name, as we had just spotted a manatee swimming up to spend the evening in warmer waters. I took this picture just as we were nestling ourselves into a couple of cozy lounge chairs and sitting back to enjoy the best time of the day...

I wished that I could bottle up the sunset and save it for later. But the camera on my PDA did a pretty decent job... the only thing missing was a function for capturing the smells as well as the sights. I do love the fresh ocean air.

WHAT I MISS ABOUT THE 80'S: TODAY, QUANTUM LEAP

Remember Dr. Sam Beckett's weekly adventures as he randomly leapt across space and time to inhabit the bodies of various individuals, helping them right their wrongs for the greater good?

I loved this show in 1989. It was quirky, there was always a moral, and you never knew what kind of situation (or body) Sam would find himself in. The only thing you could be sure of is that the next leap would not be the one home and that Sam would always utter the requisite "Oh, boy" and see himself in the mirror so you'd get a little teaser for coming episode. You knew Sam would bounce to the next situation and uncover the obscure dilemma, with the help of his sidekick Al (who appeared only to Sam as a hologram) and Al's little gizmo Ziggy.

The plots were fresh and the show had a conscience-- something that seems to be missing from a lot of tv shows today.

MY DIET IS FAILING, AND I BLAME GERRY RAFFERTY

Well, I feel the need for a mid-month post about my dieting struggles. Mid-month, heck... we're only 8 days in. The ship may not be sinking, but it's taking on water (and carbs) at an alarming rate.

Let me start at the beginning. Last night, Mark and I went to feed the wild kitties. We discovered them back in the fall, one night when we drove past the old IBM building in Fayetteville. There were seven of them, playing in the parking lot, until we drove up and they scattered. Ever since then, we've gotten into this routine of taking them treats and catfood... and last night, it was some leftover chicken I'd cooked and not eaten. So we sat there for about half an hour, trying to build up some mutual trust as we coaxed them toward us with pieces of baked chicken breast. It's always fun feeding the wild cats. But it's amazing how you can work up an appetite. And in retrospect, I would have been better off sampling the kitties' baked chicken, because Applebee's was looming just up the hill. Like a carb-laden spectre of doom.

We walk into Applebee's, get seated, wash our hands and order. So far, so good. I stick with an order of a salad with grilled chicken. I'm hanging tough... no way I'll succumb to temptation tonight. And then Applebee's lulls me into submission with their feel-good 70's music. Have you ever noticed the music at Applebee's? It's insanely good. Much better than the food. I spend as much time singing along as I do eating, which is a winning combination, up to a point. And that point comes when you find yourself singing along to "Right Down The Line" and waxing philosophical over the musical genius that was Gerry Rafferty. No sooner than I'd said, "Remember Baker Street and Stuck In The Middle With You?", the words "I'll have a Maple Butter Blondie, please" tumbled right out. Suddenly, I didn't mind being 30 lbs overweight. Gerry Rafferty made me feel like a million bucks, and in an instant I was ordering a dessert with 71 carbs! That's, like, two whole days worth!

What am I going to do on vacation next week? My self-control is MIA. I've embarked on a spree that I can't seem to get a handle on. I don't have all the answers, but I think my TimeLife CD's had better not make the trip. I think there's some serious backmasking going on in restaurants. That's why all the tv's are set to closed-captioning... the music tracks contain some Svengali-like magic that stimulates dessert sales. I'm convinced that if you play "Right Down The Line" at just the proper speed, it says "Order the 71-carb dessert, Julie". Where is Tipper Gore and the PMRC when I need them? Can't they form the DMRC-- the Dieter's Music Resource Center-- to help combat the restaurants' musical voodoo I've fallen victim to?

Maybe this is all in my head. Maybe it's time to invest in a noise-blocking aparatus or some headphones I'd be too embarrassed to wear in public. Maybe it's time to stop dining out altogether. Maybe it's time to eat the catfood instead. Maybe Gerry Rafferty isn't enemy #1. Maybe it's time to stop making excuses.

Hmmm. I think I'll put on my Soft Rock CD's and ponder this conundrum.

THINGS I MISS ABOUT THE 80'S

2008 RESOLUTIONS... TESTING. TESTING.

Well, as much as I hate to admit it, my resolve took a bit of a dive in March. I definitely followed the old, familiar adage about March: in like a lion, out like a lamb. Quite possibly the most passive lamb in the whole darn herd.

So in true-Ju form, I must commemorate this post with another loser-themed tune, and this time it's Little River Band's Lonesome Loser. See, just like the dude in the song, I'm a loser but I still keep on trying!

Sit down, take a look at yourself
Don't you want to be somebody?
Someday somebody's gonna see inside
You have to face up, you can't run and hide.

I know, I'm kinda showing my age again on this one. But LRB was awesome... I could just as easily apply the words to Cool Change here, too. But that would just rate me another point on the cheese-o-meter. So let's get down to brass tacks. How did I really do in March?

I set a goal to lose 7 lbs, which I didn't reach. I only dropped 6 lbs, bringing my total to 27 lbs for the year. I had several hurdles along the way: Corned beef sandwiches at Oaklawn, birthday cake (carrot cake from a fantastic bakery, nonetheless), Easter candy, and one absurdly carb-laden trip to Johnny Carino's that dang-near laid me up for 24 hours. And my Stamina In-Stride XL also got very lonely.

Now, onto the fiscal goals, which moved at an even more glacial pace than their physical counterparts. I only paid $500 toward my credit bills. I know, I feel just rotten about it. I don't know what got into me... all month long, I shelled it out like I'd just won the lotto or struck Texas tea. First, I went to buy the iPhone that I was strong enough to resist last month. I was hoodwinked by the slick-talking AT&T guy and instead got a Moto Q, which set me back almost as much except for the $50 rebate I'll supposedly receive before I die.

The second temptation was lurking just around the corner, assuming the form of custom-framework. I know framing doesn't sound all that glamorous, but this was my biggest splurge, dollar-wise: I broke down and got the autographed Rolling Stones poster framed... now, since it's a one-of-a-kind piece of rock 'n roll memorabilia, I just couldn't skimp on it. We're talking velvet double-matting and a gorgeous frame that would make Mick Jagger change the words to "I Can't Get No Satisfaction". I'm oh-so-satisfied. Guilty, but pleased. It turned out beautifully and looks great in the office.

And last but not least, I dropped a bundle on bundles. Bundles of hair, that is. Yes, Spring is in the hair (I mean in the air) and it seemed an appropriate time for extensions. I don't know what to say. My priorities are all outta whack? I totally reverted back to my redneck roots. And in the interest of full disclosure, I'll also 'fess up and tell you that I've been cruising car lots again (well, just one... it beckoned me from the road) and fell in love with a sporty little navy blue BMW 325Ci. I have a terrible crush on it, but we will have to remain star-crossed lovers for now. A convertible is just not in my budget. Period. Nay, exclamation point. Get thee behind.

Fortunately, though, it's a new month and I've rallied. Back to Earth. I'm feeling strong once again. I've heaved up all of my misdeeds for all of blogdom to judge me, but my resolve is firm. I will lose 7 lbs and $1,000 of debt in April. I do have a mid-month vacation in Florida, and I'm sure there will be indulgences, both budgetary and dietary, but I have a good feeling.

Rome wasn't built in a day... and neither is a Goddess!

BACKSTREET'S BACK, ALRIGHT

"Omigod, we're back again... brothers, sisters, everybody sing"... Oh, yes, they are back and this time, the Backstreet Boys demand wheatgrass. To answer the next question in the song, Trace Adkins would definitely affirm that the Backstreet Boys are indeed "original". Yea-ahhh.

If you missed the last episode of Celebrity Apprentice, you missed one of the truly golden moments of reality TV. In the final showdown and two-hour finale this week, Piers and Trace will square off in a charity auction / concert. And when Trace, who's in charge of the entertainment, met with the BSBs to discuss their greenroom requests, his facial expression pretty much summed it up: total disbelief that the "Backstreet Old Guys" (as he dubbed them) would make such an absurd request as wheatgrass, amid a lengthy list of other demands. Trace was respectful to the BSBs in the moment, saying "I've never heard of it"and "I'm happy for ya, brother... I'm glad you found something that works for ya." But later in a confessional aside, Trace was more honest: "What? Are you punkin' me, man?? Is this a joke... Really?" Thank goodness it's not far from my couch to the floor, or I could've injured myself... this is the kind of reality nugget that keeps me hanging on all season! Check out the clip here: "Talkin' to the Backstreet Boys is time out of my life that I'll never get back... talkin' about wheatgrass juice..."

I'm the first to admit that I still like BSB. There, I've said it. I think their songs still hold up better than most from the boy band era. And I'm sure The Donald instructed them to soup it up a little and make the task more challenging for Trace... or I'd like to think so. If not, they made total boobs out of themselves for nothing. And that's no way to squirm your way back into America's hearts, BSOGs. A teaser-for tomorrow's ep showed that one of the boys goes into a tizzy over forgetting his black nail polish. Huh? Show me the meaning of being lame-o.

So the countdown is officially on... just 24 hours to go until the Celebrity Apprentice finale! I'm pumped! But am also a little worried. I'm supposed to be getting my hair extensions tomorrow night, so I can only hope that the process goes quickly and my long-haired butt (uh, not literally, of course!) is at home on the couch in time to catch the whole spectacle. If not, I'll have to fake an excuse... "I left something turned on at home" might work!

Go, Trace!

AH, THE WONDER OF IT ALL

How does one pass the time on a four-hour car ride to Hot Springs? Well, by making up songs, of course. I got the inspiration for this one while listening to "Wonderwall", the 1995 hit from Oasis. Suddenly, it struck me that I should rename it to reflect my feelings about the torture chamber we call the brassiere.

I give you... [drumroll, please]...

"Wonderbra".

Today is gonna be the day

That I'm gonna go shop for you

By now I've psyched myself out

Found a cup size I think will do

I don't believe that anybody

Sags the way I do, without you now

Bad news, thought I was double-D

But the measurements I took were whack

I need Tim Gunn's expertise

And Victoria's Secret for my rack

I don't believe that anybody

Droops the way I do, without you now

My sportsbra's 18-hour strap's unwinding

And all the hooks that hold me in are binding

There are many things that I would

Like to say to you But I can't breathe now

'Cause maybe

You're gonna be the one that shapes me

After all You're my Wonderbra

Today was gonna be the day

That I would find the perfect fit

But one boob's a triple D

And the other is a B-plus tit

I don't believe that anybody

Makes a freakin' sling To fit me now

And all the wires within these cups are binding

And as the high-beams light my way, they're blinding

There are many bras that I would like to burn for you

So I don't have one now

I said maybe

You're gonna be the one that chafes me

But after all You're my Wonderbra

I said maybe

You're gonna be the one that chafes me

But after all You're my Wonderbra

Said maybe

You're gonna be the one that chafes me

You're gonna be the one that chafes me

You're gonna be the one that chafes me

A FACE TO GO WITH THE NAME

For those who have wondered (and those who haven't)... Guess who.
Yes, it's the face of evil.

MARY POPPINS IS PISSED!

Well, I gotta tell you... Mary Poppins ain't dancing on rooftops or taking carousel rides through the countryside today. Uh-uh. That's 'cause Mary is 15 kinds of PO'd.

Getting this fired up is pretty out of character for me-- hence the comparisons people make between me and the irrepressible nanny. I normally take things in stride. Heck, I wasn't this flabbergasted when my ex-husband got his egg on with a coworker. I guess it's a good thing he decided to mess with another woman instead of my Ebay rating. One's Ebay rating is pretty serious stuff...

So let me start from the beginning. Brittnee turned me on to this awesome Giorgio Armani foundation and was kind enough to bring me a sample back from Neiman-Marcus in Dallas so I could ensure a match to my skintone. It's exclusive to certain stores, though, and can't be purchased anywhere in the state of Arkansas; so being the card-carrying redneck that I so proudly am, ol' Mary Poppins here decided to buy it on Ebay. Fast. Convenient. And cheaper than the $55 per fluid ounce price on the Armani website. So far, so good. I always have great luck on Ebay.

With eager anticipation, I checked every evening to see if my little miracle-bottle had arrived. A week passed. But that's ok, it mailed from Throop, Pennsylvania. 10 days. I'm starting to get a little concerned... I mean, I usually get any purchase within this length of time. 11... 12... and on day 13, it arrives! So it's exactly what I expected (plus I saved an Andrew Jackson), so other than the delivery-time, I'm thrilled. And like a good little Ebayer, I log on to leave feedback for Diva Cosmetics and I give Diva a positive score. I also leave the following comment: "Delivery not prompt, but pleased w/ item... Good value. Will buy again! Thanks!!" I thought that was the end of an overall favorable transaction. It never dawned on me that Diva would use the "delivery not prompt" part as a reason to crucify me.

So a week and a half goes by before I log into Ebay again, and I notice something I've never seen before. The little feedback icon on the listing looks a little different than it ever has. It has a " - " in it. So I click on over to see what Diva has to say... And lo and behold, it's my first negative feedback! What? Me? Mary Poppins?? With a besmirched feedback rating??? It just can't be. Ebayers live and die by their feedback scores! And to add insult to this grave injury, Diva wrote "Paid 2/7. Shipped 2/8. What more do you want?Unrealistic Buyer! Sellers Beware!!" Ya'll, my heart just stopped. As I stared in disbelief at the monitor, I thought Ashton Kutcher was going to jump out from behind it and yell "Ahhh... You've been Punk'd!" But there was no Ashton. Only Mary Poppins, whose happy little umbrella just bit the asphalt. 0 to 60 in less than four seconds. Thud.

I'm now a 99.1% on feedback.

So I fire off a quick message to my Ebay sensei, Mark, to explain the situation and ask, "If I send a strongly worded message to the seller, will I get in trouble?" I was hot, but didn't want to place my newly-lowered standing in further jeopardy. He was the voice of reason, though, which is just what I needed in that moment. My whole problem was that I knew exactly what I wanted to say; in my mind, I had already composed an artfully-worded message telling the Diva herself (who at this point, I've determined is very aptly named) that her petty retaliation is mighty unseemly behavior for a PowerSeller... and that I wish her "legions of terrible customers like me who 'Buy It Now', pay immediately upon clicking the 'Buy' button, then leave her positive feedback." What's negative about that, for crying out loud? Isn't that what every seller wants? After all, I didn't blame her for being slow to ship, I said "delivery not prompt". Plus I said I would buy from Divacos again (which at the time was true)... so how bad could it have been?

See, this whole feedback/reputation thing is of the utmost importance to me. Ebay was genius in setting it up that way... it keeps people honest because it's personal. Very personal. Under Ebay's own bylaws, feedback is to be honest, fair and factual. Ergo, my Ebay score is proof that I'm a good person. I could have used that as a defense the next time I'm pulled over for speeding... "Oh, but officer, my Ebay feedback is 100%... there must be a misunderstanding." I might have had it chiseled as an epitaph on my tombstone... "Julie Mannon: 100% Feedback from all Ebay buyers and sellers". I believe the Lord probably had it written next to my name in the Book of Life. But now it's in strikethrough font. Only kidding. But a good feedback score builds good karma. See, to build good karma, there are four things you always-always do in life:

• Tip your waitstaff generously.
• Hold the elevator door for others.
• Salute the flag.
• And at all costs, you make nice on Ebay.

That fourth one should be mandatory curriculum in kindergarten, along with sharing, washing your hands and saying "please" and "thank you".

So where we are now is that I filed a request for feedback withdrawal and/or reversal to a neutral rating. And Ebay has responded, saying that they don't do that. I understand, they get a lot of cranks who take this stuff way too seriously (uh, present company excluded). So Mary Poppins has to suck it up and live with 99.1% for now. Look at me... do I look like I'm nine-tenths of a percent shy of being a worthy citizen? Don't answer that... I don't really want to know the answer. But I do thank you for letting me vent.

I'll be over this little tiff before you can say "Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious". I'm not capable of keeping up this kind of angst for long. But I guess it just goes to show that even Mary Poppins can get blown around by the winds of fate once in a while. And Diva, if you're out there... Lightning wants to come stay at your crib for a while (you may recall from my previous posts that dog-boarding is infinitely more torturous than waterboarding.) Here's a-wishing a little of both on Diva Cosmetics (AKA: "Divacos"). ha! If you're contemplating a purchase, I highly recommend the Armani foundation... but pony up the extra $20 and buy it at giorgioarmanibeauty.com. Nobody likes a Diva. Or a cheapskate... Lesson learned here.

Round 2: You'll get a kick out of this... I messaged Diva to ask if she would be willing to "mutually withdraw" our feedback on this transaction. And despite the fact that my "negative" score is much worse than her "positive", even with my casual comment about delivery-time, I thought it was a reasonable suggestion. I mean, she'd gotten worked up enough to nail me, so it seemed like a win-win for both of us. Apparently, la Diva is not prone to acts of reason, however. I should have known. She not only messaged back to tell me "Absolutely not!", she proceeded to tell me that I need to learn the definitions of slander and libel (poor Diva doesn't realize they aren't applicable to this situation; but how can you expect someone to know the ins and outs of the law, when she's sooo busy manipulating and intimidating hapless Ebayers?) Anyhoo... she actually said her attorney "would be glad to explain it to me... in court", because she has forwarded my comment, message and IP address to him. ha! And I thought I took my feedback seriously! It was just the perfect example to show me how petty I was betting, getting all het up over nine-tenths of a percentage point. Suing someone for leaving positive feedback... Is that a hoot, or what? I thought I might laugh until I cried-- but that would streak my fabulous Armani makeup! And even if Mary Poppins doesn't act like a Diva, she'll die tryin' to look like one!

IN KEEPING WITH THE MAGNET METAPHOR...

Dear World,

This is pretty much the view from where I sit.

Yours in perpetual annoyance and dismay over the powers of attraction,

Julie

THIS IMAGE IS A METAPHOR FOR MY LIFE

I have a lot more to say on this topic... Volumes, in fact. The photo is just a teaser. Replace the paperclips with the oddities of all mankind, and you have me in a nutshell.

If you know me like I think you know me, you know that I think that whole crock of hooey called "The Secret" is just a lot of bunk. There's no way I could possibly be beckoning for the universe to send me a relentless throng of freaks, geeks, kooks, bores and wannabe-comedians... Is the world really in that desperate a need for a friendly face?

Oops, I almost forgot. This month I'm supposed to "make it work". Dang.