All press is good press, right?

Let's hope so.

A few minutes ago I received an email stating "What a great shot in the paper today!", followed by a facebook comment reading "Loved your pic in The Scene today!". 

Um, what?

Oh, yeah.  That. 

Last weekend, the husband and I attended our FAVORITE (caps is definitely necessary... it's that good) event of the year, Dancing in the Woods.  It's a black-tie charity gala sponsored by Albany Medical Center, held in the old Macy's space in Crossgates Mall.  You would be amazed at the transformation from vacant department store to gorgeous ballroom.  They go all out.

And it's open bar.  Duh.

Ooh, and the New York Players perform.  Our wedding band, remember?  We even got a shout-out.  I love being us.

Back to the topic at hand.  While on the dance floor, we noticed the events photographer from the Times Union.  We know him, he knows us and he's photographed us at other various events over the years.  We noticed his flash going off quite often in our vicinity but kept dancing like fools anyway.  Stupid, stupid idea.  Why, oh why didn't we walk over to him to pose like normal people?

Photo by Joe Putrock / Special to the Times Union

At least Nick looks good.  I, on the otherhand, am a dancing, screaming fool.  I'm assuming it was a good song ;)

The photo was captioned with "Carolyn and Dominick Purnomo light up the dance floor during Dancing in the Woods".  Light up?  Really?  Husband's glowing expression, yes.  Mine?  Not so much.  Thankfully I shaved my arm pits that day.   ha

I'm feeling slightly embarrassed.  But that's just my vanity speaking.  And here it is again...

Photo by Joe Elario Photography



What I looked like from the front.  With my mouth closed.  

So, as for today's press?  Begrudgingly, I'll take it.  Anything to get people to notice me right?  Even if they are laughing.

Oh Napa, how I miss thee.

So.  I got into my car yesterday to head to an appointment and turned on the whore.  I mean GPS.  We just call her Whore because she likes to give bad directions.  Moving on.  I was going to a destination that I knew I had previously typed in so I tapped the Recent Destinations button.  Sadly, the first thing to pop up was Viader Winery.  A mere 2355 miles to the west.  Sigh.

Oh Napa Valley, we'll meet again, won't we?

If you recall, the husband and I headed to CA about a month ago (I'm so awesome at keeping my blog updated) for an awards-slash-anniversary celebration.

Since I think that literally all of my followers know me in real life and have heard the stories, I'll spare the details and just hit on the highlights.  Like my pretty green dress.  

Here is husband at the awards ceremony accepting the three (THREE!!) awards he won, from Mark at Sante Magazine.  Service Hospitality, Wine Hospitality and Spirits Hospitality.  Yay Yono's!

We met some pretty fantastic people at the Sante events throughout the week. Now we have new friends with amazing restaurants all over the country. And vacation destinations for a lifetime.

We made sure to teach our new friends the infamous "look-away".  They're now using it in their home states.  Love that we're spreading ridiculous traditions nation-wide! 

A plate like this appeared in front of us no less than three times throughout the week.  Who am I to turn down free dessert?

A winery highlight.  Loved this place.

Nick standing next to Chef Morimoto (pretending he doesn't know me as I'm taking picture after picture) at his new downtown Napa restaurant.

"A vanilla milkshake will make me feel better", said in a 4 year old's drawn-out whiny-voice, was one of the better lines I moaned during our honeymoon last year.  But seriously, these vanilla milkshakes will cure anyone's hangover.  And the shrimp tacos?  So good we tried to recreate them at home last week.  Best lunch spot in town.  Gott's.  Not our house.

Me at a winery.  Too bad I don't recall which.  Reason #3,463 I should update my blog in a more timely fashion.

 Me after too much wine at aforementioned unnamed winery.  Apparently I like to look at myself.  And document it.  I ooze cool-ness.

We got a little bored listening to our tour guide drone on and on (thinking he was the funniest thing alive) at Robert Mondavi.  So we opted for a photo-shoot to keep us occupied.  Awesome room though, right?

The husband, looking all GQ at Viader.

 We even found a dachshund to play with at one of the wineries!  Kiss kiss, Bisou!

 Between last year's trip and this one, I think we spent enough time at the bar at Bouchon to be considered regulars.  The bartender recognized us a full year later.  Not sure if that's a good or a bad thing.  ha

Oh, pretty Villagio.  How I long for your luxurious hopsitality.  And your afternoon tea. 

Until next time, Napa Valley.  Don't forget me.

xoxo

Holy Shellac, Batman!

For those of you scoffing at my $40 manicure, eat it.

This was taken at a full week in.  NO CHIPS, people!

Can I tell you how nice it was to be on vacation and not have to worry about my nails?!!  I suppose most people probably wouldn't, but we all know how I feel about my appearance, right?  Poor husband.  Er, lucky husband?

The manicure actually lasted a few days beyond this without chipping.  The first chip appeared around day 10 but wasn't that noticeable.  Day 13 came and went and I was shocked thinking I'd get a full two weeks (maybe longer!) out of it.  No dice.  Day 14 was like Armageddon for my nails.  Literally every nail began to crack and peel.  And because I'm impatient and didn't want to wait for a salon visit (or spend the money) for proper removal, I peeled the rest off myself.  

Good for my cuticles, no?

So.  Shellac?  Love.

 

One year down.

Showing off our marital bling.

One year ago today, we said I do.

And I still do.

I love you more each day and love the life we have created together. 

It's nice to have a BIP ;)

Happy Anniversary, Babe.

xo times a million.

Shellac me.

I know, I know.  Close up hand pictures are gross.  And seriously?  When did my middle finger's middle knuckle get so damn big?  And wow, my index finger is totally curved.  The cut on my pinky?  Spaghetti squash carving incident.

Moving on.

I got a manicure the other day.  This is not a routine thing for me.  My friends will tell you that there isn't much more that I hate in the world than wasting money on a manicure only to have it chip in mere days.

This one is different though.  ::crosses fingers and prays to the nail gods::

It's called a Shellac manicure.  Apparently it's like a gel polish.  Or something.  And you stick your hands in a UV light emitting thing in between coats.  Supposedly it lasts up to 2 weeks. 

Check back with me upon my return from Napa and we'll see what state my nails are in.  K?  Thx.

The love-affair may recommence.

That's probably not even a word.  Whatev. 

So this morning I got out of bed, peed and walked my naked-ass to the scale.  Yes, this is my morning ritual.  Don't judge.

And holy shit, the scale made my day!  131.2 people!  I've officially passed my original goal of 132 and am well on my way to getting under 130.  Too bad we'll be in Napa for the next 7 days gorging ourselves with wine, cheese and the like*. 

Anyway, after seeing that glorious number on the scale, I decided to try on a pair of jeans that I haven't worn in, oh, about 4 years.  All girls do that, right? 

Look at that beautiful "h" on the rear. 

I first heard about Citizens of Humanity jeans on Oprah (love her and seriously might cry when her show ends) during a show about denim makeovers.

On the show was a woman who had been searching for jeans for years.  She had flat-ass syndrome and ridiculously long legs and had never been able to find jeans to accomodate her, um, problem.  Sound familiar?  The next chance I got, I rushed to the store to try these puppies on.  It was love at first zip.  Thus began my love affair with COH jeans.  I own roughly a dozen pairs.  Overkill?  Probably.

When my waistline started expanding, however, I put them to rest.  Going up a size didn't do it for me... they just looked baggy.  Now that I am almost back to skinny-mini size, I'm bringing 'em back. 

This picture didn't come out as planned.  I was attemping to show just how nice my trusty COHs make my ass look.  But I cut off my legs.  Such is life. 

So.  Suffering from flat-ass syndrome?  Buy the Citizens.  Flat-ass be gone. 

True story.

 

*Have I mentioned how I excited I am to be back in a state that has a Jack in the Box??  There's a strong possibility that we'll be making a stop (or four) for some delicious deep-fried tacos.  And holy shit, our hotel has afternoon tea!  As in, fourth meal.  In the middle of the day!  See ya next week, diet. 

I have upgraded.

This post should really be titled "NEW CAR NEW CAR NEW CAR NEW CAR NEW CAR!!!!!!!!!"

'Cause I'm feeling a little happy.

Ok.  Deliriously happy is more like it.

But a little sad at the same time.

Like previously mentioned, I get attached to things.  My car is one of them.   

Here I am, looking like a tool, showing off my beloved, elderly Jeep, in my not so pretty garage. 

This Jeep took me through my twenties.  Literally.  I bought it at age 20, sold it at age 30.  This car and I have seen a lot together.  It made the trip between Cape Girardeau and St. Louis (during my college years) too many times to count, gave me a warm, comfortable place to nap when I found myself at work a whole 8 minutes early, nursed itself back to health after being involved in not one, but three accidents, none of which were my fault, held me together during my excruciating 30+ mile bumper to bumper commutes to various communities during my McBride days, and most importantly, made the 1,000 mile journey with ease, moving me, my dogs and my life from St. Louis to Albany. 

As much as I bitched and moaned about how shitty my car was, I loved it.  We have memories, people!  Is that ridiculous?

Anyway.

Remember this post? 

I finally got my wish. 

This lovely now belongs to me.  So pretty I can't stand it.

  

And one more time, for comparison's sake...

DINGY AND OLD

SHINY AND NEW



My husband spoils me.  Although I really think he was just sick of me stealing his car all the time ;)

Whatever works, people, whatever works. 

*And Jeep Peeps, you really should be thanking us for our devotion... we're on #5.  We may have a problem.