SHOWERPALOOZA 1 Of 3

Some B2Bs get a shower from her bridesmaids. Some B2Bs get a shower from her side of the family. Some are even lucky enough to get a shower thrown for them from the groom's side of the family. This B2B got all of the above.

The first shower the girls threw for me and it was a couple's shower, unless you were my cousin Steve or my friends Kim, Jillian and Jeannette. It was in my boss' backyard. This was a plus in many ways. Work is like my second home so I was completely comfortable and even had extra shoes and a sweater (as I do at work). It was also a plus because I didn't have to go home after a Friday at work and get ready and then rush off to some other place for the shower that started at 7. I just started getting ready at work around 4 and there were 5 little chicks to watch Britain while I did. It was a great time with about 45 people that showed up and I can't begin to tell you how many of them brought the most generous presents. More importantly, people cancelled plans, drove many miles and dumped their kids off on semi-satisfactory babysitters just to be at the shower. The food was amazing (filet mignon, goat cheese dip with roasted vegetables, Tositos) and the weather was perfect. It was a great kick off for SHOWERPALOOZA, 2007.

My mom.

Big Daddy.


My sister Theresa and my father.

My best friends from High School: Jeannette, Jillian, Kimberly and Shelly. Missing in action are Mary and Kim.



Em, sipping one back.






My bridesmaids, my flowergirl and I.














All the Chase Men: Father of the Groom, Glynn. Co-Best Men, Brad and Craig and the Groom, Matt.









My MOH, Payton and my bridesmaid, Emily.








My boss, Mary and my other boss Erin (in blue), aka, the girl's mothers.

My brother, JR and his wife, Monica.

BB8 Is Full Of Big Dumb Animals

If you're watching Big Brother 8, you know of Kail. Kail is apparently RUNNING her entire town because she's a realtor. Umm, K. Not sure how many "sold" trailers it takes to become a millionare, but I think she's about 6 years away. She uses a bunch of horrible, mispronounced phrases like "scotch free" and "in like Flynt".

I'm going to make a list of others and see how many she uses this season, such as:

Buck Naked

Tommy Hilfinger

Jenuis. Just kidding.

When Sorry Doesn't Cut It

for·Give [fer-Giv] verb, -Gave, -Giv·en, -Giv·inG.

–verb (used with object)
1. to Grant pardon for or remission of (an offense, debt, etc.); absolve.
2. to Give up all claim on account of; remit (a debt, obliGation, etc.).
3. to Grant pardon to (a person).
4. to cease to feel resentment aGainst: to forGive one's enemies.
5. to cancel an indebtedness or liability of: to forGive the interest owed on a loan. –verb (used without object)
6. to pardon an offense or an offender.

Related forms
for·Giv·a·ble, adjective
for·Giv·er, noun

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hind·sight [hahynd-sayt] –noun


recoGnition of the realities, possibilities, or requirements of a situation, event, decision etc., after its occurrence.

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cow·ard·ly [kou-erd-lee] -adjective


1. lackinG couraGe; contemptibly timid.
2. characteristic of or befittinG a coward; despicably mean, covert, or unprincipled: a cowardly attack on a weak, defenseless man. –adverb
3. like a coward.

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re·Gret [ri-Gret] -verb

–verb (used with object)
1. to feel sorrow or remorse for (an act, fault, disappointment, etc.): He no sooner spoke than he reGretted it.
2. to think of with a sense of loss: to reGret one's vanished youth.
–noun
3. a sense of loss, disappointment, dissatisfaction, etc.
4. a feeling of sorrow or remorse for a fault, act, loss, disappointment, etc.
5. reGrets, a polite, usually formal refusal of an invitation: I sent her my reGrets.
6. a note expressinG reGret at one's inability to accept an invitation: I have had four acceptances and one reGret.

If you still read this, it's in the mail, where it should have been a lonG time aGo.

Revistited

HERE'S a test I created awhile ago to get you through the hump day.

The Gift That Keeps On Giving

Britain turned two years old today. I keep reading that sentence over and over so it can sink in. My little girl, the one that fit inside my tummy, the one that came out three weeks early and was only 5 pounds, 14 ounces at a week old is a toddler.

There has been some stress lately...the wedding, the fighting, the fucking heat. And it's nice to take a day out from all of that and focus on the most important thing I've ever done. I don't usually brag about her. I feel like that's rude and obnoxious when parents go one and on about how wonderful their spawns are. But never in my wildest dreams did I ever think I'd have such an amazing, beautiful, creative, loving, brilliant and halarious daughter.

Matt was at work and it was just Brit and I last night. I was holding her after her bath, pjs on, and she was getting all sleepy and goofy. Five minutes before she fell asleep, I asked her if she was ready for her birthday.

"Yea!"

I told her, "if you go to sleep, you'll wake up and it will be party time."

"Yea!"

Then I told her I loved her and that "today is the last day you're one." I got a little choked up. She held both of my cheeks, gave me that half asleep smile she's had since she was two months old and gave me a kiss.

Yea.

I'm Getting Too Old For This

A couple of weeks ago, we went to New Hope, PA near Philly to a reunion on Matt's side of the family. It was a great time. I had a great time.

In fact, I had TOO good of a time, threw up in his aunt's yard and paid for it the following day.

But everyone was so nice and I would have had a great time, even without the Bacardi and diet dinner with vodka and cranberry dessert.