Sharon Stone's Lucky Day

I cut off all my hair four weeks ago. Ok, I'm not crazy, I did not cut off my hair - I paid a highly gifted hairdresser to do it, Jody Martinez, the owner of Luxe Salon here in Denver... I LOVE HIM.
He is talented beyond belief, kind, funny as hell and has FOUR dogs! In fact, he's the only man I can say I love right now, and he's gay and partnered, which says much about the state of my love life. Anyway, I brought in this picture of Sharon Stone and said, "What do you think?"



God bless him, he said, "I love it, I love it. It's exactly your hair. Let's do it."

By "your hair," he meant The Baby Goose. Years ago, I was sitting at an outdoor cafe in D.C. with my friend The Adorable Opera Singer. We were people-watching. Having been hair-challenged my whole life, I kept saying as women with blond shoulder-length hair walked by, "Does my hair look like that?" Finally, The Adorable Opera Singer said, "No. I'll let you know when a baby goose walks by." The fine, wispy, blond tufts finally had a name. Now, my close friends just call it "The Goose."

I digress.

So Jody, the gay man I love cut The Goose four weeks ago. And yes, The Goose looked like the picture above. Too bad for The Zadge that the face did not. Nonetheless, I was very happy with the cut - I got lots of compliments and good friends told me I looked 10 years younger. (That's why they are good friends.)

The problem, however, with short hair is that you have to get it cut A LOT or it starts to look like a mullet. (Ok, I suffered a huge capri-pants backlash from my capri-hating post a few days ago, so let me just say upfront that I think the mullet can look good on some people. I haven't met them yet, but I'm sure they are out there. Wearing capris - he, he, he!) Normally, I wouldn't mind seeing Jody-the-man-I-love every four weeks and paying him the $90 to tame The Goose.

But there is a small problem I may have mentioned....The Damn House That Won't Sell. As a result of TDHTWS, and the fact that The Zadge is now carrying a mortgage in D.C. and also paying rent in Denver, The Zadge has had to slash all unnecessary expenses. That means no boozy dinners out, no vacations, no daily dog-walking for the boyz, no HBO, no manicures, and even, as of late, no pedicures. Oy vay. But the one thing The Zadge will not give up is a professional haircut (and highlights!). So how happy was she today when Jody, the gay man she loves, gave her this haircut (can you see it?) for free?!!!!!




See, my appointment was at 3:00 p.m., and just as Jody was blowing out The Goose, he said, "Can I ask you a huge favor? Would you mind running out and buying me a bottle of champagne? I have a bridal wedding party coming in any minute." Of course, I said. But then I looked at him and said, "One bottle? For a bridal party? Should I get two?" And this is yet another reason why I love Jody.....he said, "Oh god, it's not for them, it's for me!" So I ran out, freshly coiffed, and picked up some champagne for the man I love so he could deal with his Bridezillas and he comped my haircut.

Then I headed out to meet some friends for drinks after work (if, by "after work," you mean 3:30 in the afternoon) ...me and my Sharon Stone bad-ass Goose met my friends here:




This is the Wynkoop Brewery, founded by Denver's now-Mayor, John Hickenlooper, a very cool, progressive dude. (As opposed to my uncool-ex-Mayor of D.C., Marion "The Bitch Set Me Up" Barry.) Denverites take their beer so seriously that they elected a BrewMeister as Mayor.

I walked in and discovered that it was "Downtown Employee Appreciation Week." Sweet!! I work downtown! That meant free beers, munchies, and massages were taking place throughout the Brewery. I was looking for my friends when the waitress came up. I felt weird getting a massage in a bar , so I ordered some of the free munchies and a beer...and guess what? The waitress freakin' carded me!!!! 45-year-old-Sharon-Stone-styled-Goose-me!!!! And she did it with a straight face.



I hooked up with the friends, we had some beer and free munchies. The bill came and I owed $3.00.

What kind of day is THIS? Free haircut, free beer, free food, some waitress thinks I may not be of legal drinking age and I love a man, even if he's gay?!!

I'm going out to buy a Powerball ticket.

Happy Birthday Harry!!!!

Look who turned 2 today! They say labs calm down when they turn two years old. Do you think yesterday's shenanigans were Harry's Last Hurrah?

Me neither.

The Worst Dog on the Planet

I have the worst dog on the planet. Perhaps in the Universe, if there are canines out there in space.

I came home at lunch to take the dogs for a walk around the block. (Had to cut the daily dog walker because of the Damn House That Won't Sell!) As I walked in the house, I was greeted by beautiful flowers:




I thought, how nice it is to live in Denver - I can make the 10 minute drive home at lunch, smell my beautiful roses, and give love and care to my two fantastic dogs (and poor neglected Tulip).

Then I saw him:




That would be my empty yogurt container from breakfast.



Ok, I thought, that's my fault - I guess I forgot to put it in the trash and left it on the counter. (Harry's stint in Prison - yes, the Colorado Correctional Institution - did not break him of counter-surfing. But more on his Prison stint later.) Then I walked toward the living room, where the "dog couch" is. This is what I saw:




On the left there is what remains of my "fun-girl" straw Cowgirl hat (a required accessory here in Colorado) and on the right is my partially chewed umbrella. Apparently, I didn't close the front closet door all the way when I left, and Harry went exploring.



What? Did I do something wrong? You think yogurt remains will fill me up?

Ok, so I'll have to buy another fun hat. And it never rains in Denver anyway, right? I tell Harry he is a bad boy and head upstairs. At the top of the stairs (stairs, mind you, that The Shone cannot climb because of his bad hip), I am greeted by this:



I know the photo is a little blurry, but my hands were shaking so much that I couldn't hold the camera straight because.....this was the baby's blanket I had been knitting for NINE FREAKIN' MONTHS as a surprise gift for my new little nephew The Finster!! I am a beginner knitter and this was only my second project (after some lame-ass scarf that looks like an anorexic snake). I had toiled and toiled at it literally for probably a hundred hours. I was almost halfway done.

The carnage was everywhere - Harry had grabbed my knitting bag off of a shelf and a) ate the actual bag itself, b) devoured all of the pairs of bamboo knitting needles, spitting out the remains all over the carpet, c) unraveled 2 feet of painstaking knitting, and d) somehow also threw in two pairs of underwear from the nearby hamper (eewwww).

Apparently, he even stopped to pick up some knitting tips:



This is what the blanket was GOING to look like:



After I performed CPR on myself, I started picking up the pieces. There was enough of the knitting left that I thought I might be able to salvage something for The Finster. Alas, The Finster, like his Aunt, will be sporting an anorexic snake scarf this winter.

Harry, on the other hand, is lucky to be alive. And people wonder why I drink.

Dispatch from the War Front

When we last left our intrepid heroine, The Zadge had vowed to resume her online dating efforts. That meant four "winks" to four possible targets. (See the July 16 post "Moving on After Keith.") Plus the e-mail exchange with the young Hot Toddy from Hot-lanta.

Well, friends, not much good to report from the war front. Only two of the four "winkees" even viewed my profile - which meant that the other two ... can I call them Schmucks?... didn't think I was even cute enough to lift a finger on their damn mouse to click on my photo to see the full size pic or more info!!! Schmucks!! They're 48-year-old divorced dudes with 37 children!!! Who do they think is going to be interested in their sheeet?!!

Oh, and the Hot-lanta Toddy?! It didn't take me long (like 45 seconds) to conclude that a) his profile photo was fake (It was the only one on his profile. If you looked like THAT, would you not have hundreds of photos of yourself up?!), b) he had sent a mass e-mail hoping some desperate spinster would reply, c) he was looking only for the booty call (which, if he looked like THAT, would not have been out of the realm of possibilities for The Zadge (Mom - don't read that part)), and d) he clearly was a misogynistic, psychopathic, serial rapist-killer. (Yes, I know, I overuse the parens.) So I dumped him like a hot potato.

The Zadge had barely gotten over her near brush with rape-death when Target #6 popped up on her screen:







Let's call him "Bearded Man with Children." Weeks ago, I had received a "He's Interested" notice from Match.com, my personal matchmaker. In response, I "winked" back. (For the love of god, is this the queerest thing ever?) No reply. But feeling slightly bruised and battered from being passively blown off by four guys I've never met, I decided to raise the stakes - I sent him an e-mail.

And surprise! He sent back a very nice response saying how flattered he was that I contacted him. We've exchanged a couple of e-mails....he sounds normal -- a big plus on Match -- and loves his kids. (He's divorced). Oh, and he's taller than me --- not so easy to find! Downside is that he lives in the mountains outside of Denver, over an hour away....

Will our intrepid heroine actually have a real, live date before the dawn of the next millennium? Will Target#6 turn out to be 5'6" and ten years older than the photo? Will The Zadge lose herself in blogging and forget to log into her Match account? Stay tuned for the next dispatch from the dating war front!

No Thank You, I Mean, No Thankles.

I watch the Today show every morning while I get ready to go to my "Top Secret Day Job." (So do The Shone and Harry....see them above watching the segment on Organic Pet Treats). Love it - love Matt, love Al. Tolerate Meredith, but love that she hasn't gotten any work done. Love her wrinkles. Totally annoyed by Ann - beautiful woman, but for the love of god, is she awful at interviewing people. Plus she's way too nicey, nicey for my taste. Get some evil in you woman.

But this morning, OMG as the kids these days say, I couldn't believe my eyes and ears. They actually ran a segment about "cankles" and fashion choices for those that have them. Baby Jesus of Bethlehem, are you freakin' kidding me???? See it here, if you dare: http://www.hulu.com/watch/85662/nbc-today-show-the-fight-against-%E2%80%98cankles%E2%80%99

For those of you who don't know, "cankles" is a term to describe those women who's ankles are the same width as their calves. I personally prefer the term "thankles" - thick ankles. Hilary Clinton is the most famous example of a woman with cankles, hence the constant pants suits.

Now I am not expecting the Today Show to rival Woodward and Bernstein with "real" news investigation and reporting. But even by my shallow and superficial standards, a "prime time" (for the a.m. ) news story on freakin' cankles?!! At first, I thought it was a joke and Matt and Al were going to jump out in leotards offering exercise tips. But no, they treated it like a serious medical condition and even had a synthetic human form to demonstrate the "condition." Seriously?! After the display of the plastic cankles, they brought out some buff trainer from Gold's Gym to show us exercises to "treat" this "condition." And it turns out that Gold's Gym is running a marketing campaign this month called "Say No To Cankles"

HAS THE WORLD LOST ITS MIND? We are in the midst of the worst economic times in more than 50 years, terrorists all over the world are plotting against us, Jon and Kate have split, and THIS is what the Today Show comes up with? And their closing line is "Don't wear Capri pants"?! [ok - i have to confess, I kind of liked that part. I have an intense personal prejudice against capris. I think the only women who don't look ridiculous in these highwater pants are 6 feet tall supermodels, and even then, it's only tolerable. Either wear pants or wear shorts. You will never find The Zadge in a pair of capri pants.]

Now, had they decided to feature something relevant and important, like How to Hide Your Gelatinous Muffin Top, ok, I'm down with that. And speaking of Gelatinous Muffin Tops, I'm off to eat my favorite dinner: The Skinny Cow!

The Proust Questionnaire

Have you seen this on the last page of every Vanity Fair? Always the same questions posed to a different celeb every month. I always wanted to pass out blank Proust Questionnaires to all my dinner party guests, have everyone fill them out, and then we would have to guess who wrote which answers. Of course, the guests at my dinner parties tend to get so sloshed that I doubt much readin' and writin' would be taking place!

Alas, all dinner parties have been placed on hold until the financial distress caused by the DAMN HOUSE THAT WON'T SELL is over. While The Zadge is no celeb, she does have some free time on her hands, since she has not one freakin' penny to her name until the DAMN HOUSE sells, so she has decided to fill out her own Proust Questionnaire:

1. What is your idea of perfect happiness?
Sitting in my villa overlooking the Amalfi Coast, on a couch with my dogs and a fresh glass of limoncello, listening to my husband Keith Urban serenade me on his guitar.

2. What is your greatest fear?
That the Damn House won't sell soon and I'll have to continue living on a $200 monthly budget

3. What is the trait you most deplore in yourself?
Impatience. Dammit, when is this quiz over?

4. What is the trait you most deplore in others?
Selfishness.

5. Which living person do you most admire?
My man Barack.

6. What is your greatest extravagance?
It used to be shoes, now it's $3000 cameras.

7. What is your current state of mind?
Befuddled - payday is tomorrow and after bills I'll have $13.53 to live on for two weeks.

8. What do you consider the most overrated virtue?
Moderation

9. On what occasion do you lie?
If I told you, you would know the next time I do.

10. What do you most dislike about your appearance?
Accepting the aging face is a daily struggle.

11. Which living person do you most despise?
Sarah Palin.

12. What is the quality you most like in a man?
Sense of humor on top of a broad set of shoulders.

13. What is the quality you most like in a woman?
Sense of humor on top of a big IQ.

14. Which words or phrases do you most overuse?
Dude.

15. What or who is the greatest love of your life?
The Shone.

16. When and where were you happiest?
I hope I haven't hit that apex yet.

17. Which talent would you most like to have?
I really, really want to be a rock star. But I can't sing worth sheeet.

18. If you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be?
The pipes - then I could be the rock star.

19. What do you consider your greatest achievement?
When I walked into a room filled with 100 party guests, tripped down the stairs, falling flat on my face and didn't spill a drop from the drink in my hand. My sister can confirm this, as she watched laughing her ass off.

20. If you were to die and come back as a person or a thing, what would it be?
Keith's guitar...Yowza!!!!

21. Where would you most like to live?
In Colorado, with a weekend home in Sonoma. Oh, and that villa on the Amalfi Coast with Keith.

22. What is your most treasured possession?
The Shone, Harry and Tulip...everything else is replaceable.

23. What do you regard as the lowest depth of misery?
A house without animals, flowers and booze.

24. What is your favorite occupation?
I'd love to be in charge of distributing all of the money in the Bill and Melinda Gates Foundation.

25. What is your most marked characteristic?
It certainly isn't being shy, demure and quiet.

26. What do you most value in your friends?
Loyalty.

27. Who are your favorite writers?
Whoever ultimately writes me a check for the Damn House That Won't Sell.

28. Who is your hero of fiction?
Owen Meaney.

29. Which historical figure do you most identify with?
Can't really think of any single career women obsessed with dogs, working out, flowers, photography, Keith Urban and Daniel Craig from the 1600s, 1700s or 1800s.

30. Who are your heroes in real life?
Moomskers, Captain "Sully" Sullenberger, Angelina Jolie. Just kidding about that last one.

31. What are your favorite names?
Duncan, Ben and Fin.

32. What is it that you most dislike?
People who are rude to waiters and people who walk slow.

33. What is your greatest regret?
That I didn't boot the damn tenants out of the Damn House That Won't Sell before I put it on the market.

34. How would you like to die?
In my sleep after a rip-roaring night with Keith.

35. What is your motto?
When the going gets tough, there's always booze and meds.


Send me your answers, and see if I can guess who you are!!!!!

Saturday in the Park

I love both of my dogs with all my heart (and poor neglected Tulip!). But adding a second dog really changes the dynamic - The Shone was my lone and constant companion for 9 and a half years before the Spawn of the Devil came along. It was a very intense one-on-one connection. I often feel slightly guilty that I don't spend the same singular quality time with The Shone since I have to spend so much time and energy dealing with Wild Child and all of his ensuing chaos. I imagine that parents feel the same way when the second child comes along.

So I decided to have a "Zadge and Shone" afternoon today. We headed up to Wash Park, a fantastic park in Denver that is just a few blocks from my house. It was a beautiful afternoon in the high seventies with lots of blue sky. The park was filled with tons of people playing volleyball, riding bikes, walking dogs and just relaxing, like me and The Shone.

As soon as we got to the park, The Shone did his signature roll:


He does this every time we hit the park. He makes all these grunting sounds of contentment as he rolls. He did it over and over this afternoon and everyone who saw it laughed.

He also made friends with lots of other pooches (or is that a horse?):



Here he is doing the requisite butt-sniff greeting with a 4 month old lab puppy named Paisley:



It was such a pleasant way to spend a few hours. In between his Shone Rolls and his butt-sniffs, The Shone sat peacefully next to me while I read:



I'll be updating my previous post about the recent books I've read, but in the park today I finished "Olive Kitteridge" by Elizabeth Strout. It won the Pulitzer for Fiction. I really liked it and would recommend it - it must be the latest thing for book clubs because I met two other women at the park who were reading it for their book club. http://www.nytimes.com/2008/04/20/books/review/Thomas-t.html

As I packed up to head home, I thought how sweet it was to spend a few gentle hours with my soulmate and guardian angel. On the way home, I heard an old Edie Brickell song, "What I Am" and one of the lyrics struck me: "Religion, is a smile on a dog."



Now that is my kind of religion!

Friday Flowers

In honor of my absolute favorite Impressionist, Friday Flowers are (is???) Van Gogh's "Pink Roses in a Vase" as photographed by me this week at the National Gallery of Art......



HAPPY FRIDAY!!!!!!!!!!!

Can you really go home again?

I'm back!! Here in Denver and here in cyberspace. Was in Washington, D.C. for a conference this week. D.C., my home for 37 years. In fact, I heard myself a couple of times before the trip saying to friends, "Oh, I'm going home for a conference." It's been a year now since I chucked the Nation's Capitol for the Wild West. I was startled and slightly unsettled by how the familiar could feel so foreign.

(As an aside, I had no real internet access, other than periodic access to my blackberry for quickly checking e-mails. My work laptop (you know, the one that caused the Things That Go Bump in the Night post) wouldn't freakin' work!!! Four days without any internet access, no e-mail, no Facebook, no TMZ, no BLOGGING!!! I'm a Blogaholic, I realized and had the shakes all week to prove it.)

The conference was basically a boondoggle and I seized the opportunity to see some of my old friends. Monday night, I hit the Palm for dinner. The D.C. Palm is a power-broker place - on any given day at lunch, you'll see a couple of congressmen, a Kennedy or two, a TV talking head, and lots of "D.C. power" lawyers and lobbyists. The walls are covered with caricatures of the power clientele. And once a week or so in my former life, I'd have lunch there with some work friends. Not really a power player at all, but I am talkative, friendly and smiley, so I got to know every one who worked there over the years. Here's the famous manager of the Palm, Tommy Jacomo, kissing my caricature Monday night



(Yeah, I know...the damn drawing looks more like some Avatar Female TV Anchor than like the Zadge)

I hadn't seen that many old guys in suits since the last funeral I attended. Denver, in contrast, is not a formal, "power" town - it's low key, definitely NOT fashion forward (someone really should pass a city ordinance preventing business men from wearing Tommy Bahama shirts Monday through Friday). Even though the Zadge is forced frequently to wear a suit in her "Top Secret Day Job," she rarely sees the sheer number of suits collected in one space as she did last Monday night at the Palm (are you OK with the shifting narrative perspective?). And I realized that I really didn't miss the male-dominated "power" networking dynamic of D.C.

So on Tuesday, I again blow off the conference and meet up with the The Kaiser, a dear old friend, for dinner and drinks.....

lots of these were consumed:

The Cosmo - almost cool again, after the Sex and the City overkill.

It's HOT and HUMID and CROWDED and BUSY....we pick an outdoor restaurant near my hotel downtown....suits everywhere, despite the heat....I try and convince The Kaiser to take off his suit jacket to no avail....but here he is doing what every D.C. person in a suit does throughout meals .....



I had forgotten about this D.C. phenomenon: the constant cellphone/blackberry (D.C. is way too establishment and conservative for the iPhone)- I-have-to-constantly-check-if-someone-important-to-my-career-is-"interfacing"-with-me (I also think there should be a law immediately imprisoning anyone who uses the word "interfacing" with a straight face).

To The Kaiser's credit, when I call him on this OCD Blackberry habit, he reacts with good humor:


Wednesday, I blow off the conference, uh, again (I've never been that good at doing what I'm told). Am feeling a little untethered: staying in a hotel in my "hometown", yet still owning a house there (let's just call that the goddamned-albatross-that-has-been-on-the-market-for-four-months-that-won't-sell-despite-the-fact-I've-lowered-the-asking-price-over-ONE-HUNDRED-FREAKIN'-THOUSAND-DOLLARS!!) ; a lot of my friends are out of town or busy....what to do?

Become a tourist, of course!!! Hey, you lived here for 37 years and never once thought it would be fun to run around during the middle of the most horrific summer weather taking public transportation and waiting in lines with crowds of tour bus passengers, all with cameras around their necks, to get in to the next of the 47 Smithsonian museums on the Mall - but why not try it now!

I hit the National Gallery of Art first - after a metro ride crammed to the gills with lots of ghetto tweeners cussing up a storm -




spent an hour wandering the Impressionist Collection:



Love, love, love the Impressionists, the same way I love the Cosmo - so cool, and new, and hip (and girly) when they first caught the public eye, then became too popular, too mainstream, that they lost their initial elan, but remained "cool" to those of us who like art/drinks/books/people/places just because they look good/taste good/make us laugh/make us happy/make us explore as opposed to what "the style-setters" say is "hot."

Then tried to get in to the National Archives....

Like a lifelong New Yorker who has never been to the top of the Statute of Liberty, I've never actually seen the Declaration of Independence, or any of the other amazing documents housed at the Archives.

But as I stood in a long line behind, seemingly, every family of five from Ohio to get in to the Archives, sweat literally soaking my tank top (overshare?), I say, "Fug it! I'm going back to take a nap in my air conditioned hotel room! And screw the metro - I'm taking a cab back." (Ok, fair enough, I've never said "fug it" in my life but don't want to turn off my non-guttermouth readers, all one of you.)

That's when I got "home" to the hotel, and thought....I miss Denver. I miss my dogs (and poor neglected Tulip too). I miss the blue skies and beautiful mountains and relaxed attitude. And I also miss my family and my D.C. friends - those I visited with and those I didn't. Terribly. Almost physically, the way I miss them. But I realized, I don't miss the weather, and the crowds of people (funny, I never thought it was crowded when I lived there), and the cars, and the pace of life, and the traffic, and the cost, and the attitude.

And I thought, I can't wait to fly home.

Everyone into the Pool!

The Shone and Harry got a new pool today. I say new because they had two identical pools last year. Harry ate both of them within 24 hours of purchase. Clearly, I'm an optimist, as I'm hoping that Number 3 is the charm.



It was hot and they loved splashing around under the beautiful Colorado sky:






Both were worn out from their big swim and retired to their respective couches.


Sleeping Devil:



Sleepy Angel:






A perfect way to spend a sunny, Colorado summer day!

UPDATE: The pool lasted 24 hours before becoming Harry's appetizer:



"What did I do wrong?"

Match.com Update

It's been two days and, as expected, not a peep out of any of the four "wink-ees." Well, I did get a "thanks, not interested" from #4 (you know, the one I'm YOUNGER than but apparently not young enough!) #1 has "viewed" my profile, but I gather he was not wowed, as not a peep from him.

And just as I'm starting to feel old and over-the-hill, lordy, lordy, look who pops up in my inbox - Helll-OOOOOO!



Is this a joke???? The guy is smoking hot, 10 years younger than I am and lives in Atlanta! I figure it has to be a mistake, but e-mail him back. Yes, he meant to e-mail me, yes, he lives in Atlanta, yes, he is 35 and yes, he will be in Denver this week. Of course, because the gods are determined to keep the Zadge single for eternity, I have to be in D.C. for the week for work.

But that's OK, because I still think it's got to be a scam by some crazed rapist/serial killer. (Are you noticing a theme - do I need to stop watching scary movies?)

Things that go bump in the night

One of the things I like least about being single is the creepy-middle-of-the-night-thing. Some noise wakes you up at 3 a.m. and all of a sudden, you are convinced that a drug-crazed rapist/serial killer is in your house, you're alone and powerless, and no one will know that your body is rotting away on your kitchen floor for days .....BECAUSE YOU ARE FREAKIN' SINGLE!!

Last night, I was awoken at 4 a.m. by the sound of Harry barking in my bedroom. Those of you with dogs know that you can recognize all of the different barks your dog makes: the feed-me-now-bark, the play-with-me-older-brother bark, the hey-mom-someone's-at-the-door bark. Well, this bark was the Holy-Shit-there's-a-homicidal-maniac-in-the-bedroom bark. It was loud, it was serious and it was alarming. I sat up in bed and saw Harry in full alert mode, tail and hackles up, staring intently at something in the dark. Harry is not normally a barker, which made me even more nervous. He kept creeping forward in the dark, then retreating. And he looked SCARED!

I jumped out of bed, grabbed the fire extinguisher I keep next to my bed (what? was I supposed to grab the stack of paperbacks or the body lotion?), and turned on the light, fully expecting to come face to face with my killer, determined to go out with a fight.

Here's what I saw:




MY FREAKIN' WORK LAPTOP!!!!!!!

Harry.

Friday Flowers

....because every home needs beautiful flowers, even in cyberspace. Happy Friday!!

Moving on after Keith

Well, surprisingly, my pursuit of Keith Urban was unsuccessful. Security was too heavy and I was having too much fun rockin' out to his show to get up and try to sneak backstage. That means for now, he continues to be with Freak-Face, until my next stalking opportunity arises.

So, that means my dance card is now wide open. In an effort to fill it, I've reluctantly turned to Match.com again. You've heard me describe my relative apathy to the dating site. But this morning, a colleague came into my office beaming about her great Match.com date last night. And this woman has had ZERO luck on the site for years. It gave me incentive to log back on and see who is out there in cyberspace looking for their "match."

I spent 20 minutes searching and found 4 possible candidates. (By the way, my search criteria included 38-48 years old, 5'10" or taller, non-smoker, at least a college degree, within 25 miles of Denver.) Match gives you the option of either e-mailing or "winking," the wuss's way out of starting communications. I opted for the wuss way and winked at the following targets:

Number One


Number Two


Number Three


Number Four


Who wants to bet that I don't hear back from ANY OF THEM?!!!! It seems the only men who e-mail the Zadge are 55 year old guys from Nebraska with lots of facial hair and not so many teeth. And, although the above targets are all between 43 and 48, two of them are only looking for women significantly younger than themselves - Number 3, a Dartmouth, Stanford, Yale educated professor who is 48 himself, puts his age limit at 30-38! Number 4, a 46 year old financier is looking for a woman under 40!! You know, now that I'm typing this, I'm starting to get really annoyed. I wonder if I can unwink Numbers 3 and 4? And now I don't feel so bad about putting their mugs all over the blogging world!! Pigs!!

Perhaps now you see why I think my odds are better at meeting Keith than meeting Mr. Right on Match.com. Stay tuned.

The Zadge turns Stalker....

Heading out tonight to see my huge crush, Keith Urban!!!!









The great band Sugarland is opening for him.


My plan is to sneak backstage (those who know me know I can accomplish this!), meet Keith, he'll be hooked and then he'll dump that freak-face Nicole Kidman!!!

This is what happens when you've been single too long.....you become delusional.

Books

UPDATED BOOK LIST!!!!!! I finished "Olive Kitteridge" and gave it 4 diamonds....Now, I need a new read - Please, Please Give Me Your Suggestions!!!!




I love reading and feel adrift if I don't have a good book going. A friend (V., my BFF) asked me today for a good book recommendation and it occurred to me that I can never remember all of the great books I've read. So I'm starting a list....here are some good reads that I've finished recently. 5 diamonds is the highest rating.......I'll be adding to it as I go along. AND PLEASE TELL ME WHAT YOUR LATEST GOOD READS ARE!!!!!

1. The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society, by Mary Ann Shaffer and Annie Barrows ♦♦♦♦♦
2. Unaccustomed Earth, by Jhumpa Lahiri ♦♦♦♦♦
3. The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo, by Stieg Larsson ♦♦♦
4. Mudbound, by Hillary Jordan ♦♦♦♦♦
5. The Thirteenth Tale, by Diane Setterfield ♦♦♦♦
6. I'll Never be French (no matter what I do), by Mark Greenside ♦♦♦♦
7. Team of Rivals, by Doris Kearns Goodwin ♦♦♦
8. The Legend of Colton Bryant, by Alexandra Fuller ♦♦♦♦
9. How to be Single, by Liz Tucillo ♦♦♦♦♦ (I LOVED THIS!!!)
   
10. Olive Kitteridge, by Elizabeth Strout ♦♦♦♦
    
11. The Geography of Bliss, by Eric Weiner (in progress)

If you are looking for ideas for other new books to read, here's a good blog:

http://everydayiwritethebook.typepad.com/books/


P.S. The Shone was very literary in his youth - he chewed more than 50 books before he was two years old!!!

The Night of the Power Women

I was invited to a "power women's networking" dinner last night....clearly, I was included merely for comedic effect. Apart from the powerless Zadge, the other power women were all current and former lawyers of a major national law firm or general counsels of clients of the law firm. It was a beautiful night for an al fresco dinner in Denver.

There was good food.

The appetizer.

There were beautiful, smart, accomplished women.



And there was WINE!!!!



A good time was had by all. But I was struck by a theme in the conversation. All but one of the women were admitted workaholics, claiming to be "stressed out" by their jobs, but at the same time almost proud and boastful about their demanding jobs. There was a distinct macho quality to their words.

One of the women couldn't "believe that you [the Zadge]leave the office at 5 o'clock?!! How in god's name do you do it" Uh, I get up and walk out the door? She then said, "Well, you must bring work home then to do at night?" Uh, no, I'm too busy being a newbie-blogger! "But then you must have to work on the weekend?" Uh, no, I do yoga, ride bikes, play with dogs and sign drunk guys' butts on the weekend. Interestingly, all of the women but me have to wear a mouth guard at night to stop them from grinding down their teeth.

Frankly, I felt sort of sorry for these women. Having lived and worked for years in the most workaholic city in the world, I'm all too familiar with the job-as-identity syndrome. When you're in that world, it's pretty easy to get caught up in it. One of my goals in moving to Colorado was, in part, to escape that mentality - to find a way of life where your identity was MORE than what you did for a living, who you worked for, where you went to school. And overwhelmingly, I've found that here in Denver.

At the end of the evening, one of the power women was bemoaning her stressed out life, that she didn't see her kids enough, that she wanted to change it but didn't know how. Knowing that I had left a similar worklife behind, she asked me how I did it.

I answered, you just get up and walk out the door.