"N" is for Noonce...

Have you ever had a moment(s) in time where you feel like you are acting in a clip of a movie complete with surround sound? This picture is one of those moments where I can hear the 3's Company theme rockin' in the background. See Casa 34b has had a little more testosterone over the last few months. My bro-in-law graduated about a year ago (yay! Go Mavs) and has since landed his first "real" job. He's been shackin' up with us (figuratively, not in a weird swinger sort of way) and tuckin' away some extra cash-o-la to bite the bullet and buy a town house. "My dear, sweet brotha Nuuncy (Golden Child circa 1986 )"," "Noonce," "D," "Dano," or my personal fav, "D-Noonce," is one heck of a guy. Can you believe this is the LITTLE bro? My hubby, the middle, is seriously the runt of the litter (but you make up for it in your charm and good looks honey). Anywho, D makes three and if I get to cast the characters-my hubby and I will be Mr. and Mrs. Roper and Noonce will star as Jack. Just a little shout out to all the ladies...get while the gettin' is good, cuz he's still single. Please note: only accepting applications for fun chicks b/c I'm not down with a boring sister-in-law. But, in all seriousness this is the kind of guy you want on your Trivial Pursuit team, he is my human calculator (and dictionary), and best of all I can count on him to smack my hubby right in the "the sweet spot" of the shoulder during any sort of altercation (must be all those years of getting beat on as a little bro). If you loved Three's Company and want a throw back to kick start your Wednesday-pause the normal blog music and play the link in the right hand column. Theme song brought to you by Joe Raposa (the same dude that wrote "C" Is For Cookie). I know, the hits keep on comin'. Roll back tomorrow for the infamous story on how I met the in laws-it's one for the history books.

PS You don't need to tell me... I already know I look like the uni-bomber in this photo.

Fire in the hole!!!

B-O-M-B-E-D out! This is what our entire (you must know by now I exaggerate just a teeny bit) front lawn looks like. It is so depressing to look out and see how green and lush the other yards in the hood are. And then take a gander at the B cup's yard. Brown and dead, period. The only spots that have managed to bounce back from the long, hard winter are infested tufts of crab grass. See Miss Kato pees fire, always has and probably always will, 'nuf said? Each spring we crawl out of hibernation and contemplate if it might not be easier to just move and start over (so our generation, isn't it?). This year was just a little different because we had a little extra man power, if ya know what I mean. See the youngest from my hubby's clan has been hangin' round and so we put his young back to work (thanks Dano!). Check out Three's Company (loved that show) 34b cup style here. The process began for the boys at 10am tilling up the crusty earth and weeding out the dead (I was having a bloody mary and sharing nachos with MOM-as I should be). The next step was to fill all the gaping holes with rich, black soil and fold in mass quantities of gypsum (per Marla, the master gardener at Dundee) and YES the b cups were sweatin' too (seriously). Step three and four blend in grass seed and mist with fresh H2O to begin the germination process (not sure why we bothered b/c at this point it started to snow-WTF?!?). Last but not least cover the entire yard with the pellet-like-coating of good ole gypsum (again). Start to finish time 8:23:15. No wonder I was a little punchy during the filming of this clip with the fertilizer spreader.

Speaking of spreadin' em, erh, uh, nevermind... KIDDING. Seriously, tomorrow we're gonna talk about life as Mr. and Mrs. Roper. TTFN!

Keepin' a stiff upper lip (& a stiff drink too)!

Wow! What a weekend! It is waaaay past my bedtime on Sunday night as I frantically type a post to give you sneek peek into some of the weekend happenings while MOM was here for a visit. Saturday commenced with Hell's beer-bloody-mary's (the BEST bloodys ever are made by my friend Nicki C. from the lone star state-hands down) with 1 of my kissin' cousins, Roni, followed by a little shopping spree intended to boost the current weak economy (thanks to my favorite Auntie), and of course followed up with a cocktail hour chaser (we gals can hold our booze). And what great happy hour isn't followed up with a little group hair removal?!? I KNOW! My MOM and I (like all ladies whether you want to admit it or not) foster the occasional stray hair on the ole upper lip. I used to do the wax, but became frustrated by the very attractive "pimple mustache" the process left behind (seriously, which is worse?). I then turned to the tedious task of tweezing. Yes it gets the job done, but takes WAY too long to try and track down all those little suckers and then just when you think you got em all you get in your car and realize you weren't even close. Finally, a friend, colleague and fellow blogger showed me the way of Nair (for faces-please make no mistake). This stuff really works and leaves you smooth and hairless with no nasty little white heads (jury is still out on if the chemicals will make you grow a 3rd nipple...). I am so into the Nair ways of the world my hubby keeps tellin' me if I, "keep it up I am gonna look like Tom Sellick!" Seriously, is it true the more you wax, pluck, Nair, the thicker and full that stuff comes back? If so I am soooo screwed!

BTW, no animals were hurt in the posting of this blog entry. The white Nair-look-alike substance on Miss Kato's nose in indeed whip cream for photo enhancement purposes only (and because the drinks were flowin...)

Anyway, I'm dog tired. Come back tomorrow and I will show you why.

My B cups went to NYC and all I got was this stupid blog post...

Happy FF! Here's the deal. I am gonna make this as short as my best pal Amy B is (Ames you break 5 feet, don't ya?). I LOVE "I heart NYC" T's. As a matter of fact I own one, my husband owns one AND I bought one for cute, lil Hank for bloggey sitting a few weeks ago. This is a classic piece of true Americana. But please, whatever you do, keep this shirt tucked in your suitcase until you get at least 200+ miles away from Manhattan. Seeing people with a still creased in the shoulder, not one bit mis-shapen or shrunk shirt on walking down Mercer Street screams, "I'm a tourist and I woulda worn my fanny pack if I hadn't read a story about people getting mugged!" Yes we all love a little hokey memorabilia from our travels and I am not above it. I am just saying that 3 for $9.99 T you bought from the man with the bad B.O. on the corner of Prince and Broadway will be much cooler if you exercise a little restraint and wait till you get home to wear it. So there you have a little traveling fashion 101 whether you like it or not.

Like it or not MOM is coming for the weekend (kidding I love it when the double L (Linda Lou) visits). I am sure I will have a whole weeks worth of material come Monday-not that I would ever put you through that... Love ya'll and have a great weekend!

Rules of East coast engagement...

Sometimes you really gotta work it. I mean shake what-cher MOMMA gave ya and get your pimp on to get a interior design job in the big apple. No one and I mean no one does that better than the Brooke and Andrew show (the ambiguously 1/2 gay duo). We worked the Kips Bay Showcase House Gala last night like a part time job. And I learned a couple of great tidbits to keep in your back pocket should you ever decide to try Manhattan on for size. No. 1: If this show house was what established East coast designers have to offer they better be ready for the punch the Midwest crew has to offer-we could do what they did in our sleep, hungover, after laser eye surgery with 4" Manolos on! No 2: New Yorkers are a lot like eggs. They all have this sort of hard shell, but it takes just a tiny bit of effort to crack the veneer and they melt in your hands. I just don't think are used to randoms striking up a conversation (I'm sure you are so shocked since I am so shy). So when I/we do they are as easy as girls on prom night. We met a developer from the Upper East Side who asked where we were both from and when we told him he said, "aaahhh, no wunda you-ahhre so nice." (work with me, I'm tryin' my best to capture the accent) No. 3: Getting wasted at a big function only makes you look like a huge tool-box. Not that we all don't already know that, but non-the-less a good reminder. No. 4: Andrew really will do what it takes to get a job in NYC. We saw this perfectly quaffed, beautifully dressed, glamorously covered in jewelry woman who looked like she needed some male companionship. I said, "Well, you said you would do what it takes!" He said, "yup, and I will but I am not making any promises." And then I said, "bring as close to an A game as you can and leave only after a little snuggling and you're money." (yes-fellow bloggers-I was pimpin' him out) No. 5: A great little black dress is always a good choice for the unknown dress code situation. A friend of a friend used to say, "I'm not overdressed, everyone else just looks like hell." Amen.

No I didn't forget... Tomorrow a little souvenir for your Fashion Friday...

Inaugural Swim 2008

Some are born to round up cattle, or sniff out bombs/drugs or help guide the blind and some, well, some are born to be spoiled. This is livin' the high life if you are a 76lb (hopefully) Chocolate Labrador Retriever on a sunny afternoon. When we first brought her home (an impulse purchase/adoption that would forever change our lives) we tried to be the best pet owners we could be. Feed the natural instincts of her breed like loving kids, sniffing out birds and the love of the water (hence the kiddie pool idea which you see today). This is probably pool number 4 or 5 since I have taken to backing right over them when we are too lazy to empty it out at night and I screech out of the 'hood late for work. If you live a little ghetto style the pool can also double as a great cooler for massive amounts of ice chilled brew-ha-ha's (the thought is still makin' my tummy shiver). Sunday, recovery day, in our neck of the woods was a great day and we rang it in by sleeping off hangovers until 9:30am (those J-ston kids are such bad influences) and not showering til 9:30pm (P.U. gross we both admit). Once we got our bummin' butts outta bed we tried to think of every excuse to stay outside a little longer. We watered trees and the pansies (still living!), washed and waxed not one but TWO automobiles, received 3 solicitations from our neighbors to do theirs next (these guys think they are so funny) and while we had the hose out we let Miss Kato have her inaugural Spring 2008 swim. I know, there is something wrong with us (I admit it) but we love our furry friend. At least she didn't go potty in the pool-she is trained better than some kids (and sadly some adults).

Can you believe it is Thursday ALREADY? I am back in the big apple and will bring you somethin' fab from the East coast tomorrow.

2somes, 3somes or 4somes (depends on the day)!

Surprise! I'm no Tiger Woods. As a matter of fact I just "picked" up the sport in college. Each summer taking lessons from the local North Links Pro, Marc, and since then I have managed to get worse and worse every single summer. I used to "kill" the ball off the T, now I am just happy when I make solid contact (you know-no worm burners and for sure not "topping" the ball"). AND as I get older and begin to not give a rip about some things, I have for some reason developed some golf anxiety. You know, your heart rate soars and your hands get sweaty if the group playing behind you catches up and waits in silence for you to take a big hack with your driver (consider us close since I put this clip on the blog). Every time my Hubby reminds me, "Who cares? You paid the same amount as they did-just golf and have fun!" Easy to say if you have been playing since you could walk and have a 13 handicap! Seriously, we play & he scores a 40 and I score a 68, (on 9 holes people) no wonder I am exhausted. I was swinging away almost twice as much! If I have learned one important lesson in golf AND in life: don't ever try to take lessons from your partner and partners don't even try to give "pointers." I mean this is the sort of thing that breaks up great marriages. My Hubby used to be full of good-golf-wisdom, but soon learned to refrain when I threatened to wrap my club around his neck. He knows keeps his lips zipped... when he can no longer hold back... "Honey, let me know if you want me to tell you what went wrong." Do I have this guy trained or what? The other important tidbit? Be sure and get a cute, pink golf bag. PS Keep you eyes peeled for some pink head covers too-the navy ones just aren't cutting it anymore.

Ok, my blogging two-somes, three-somes and four-somes (get your head out of the gutter) come back tomorrow it's hump day!

Baked with love by the B cups...

I've whipped up something really special for your Monday fix of complex sugars and heavy on tradition. See I'm big on tradition-take for example Christmas morning has always gone hand in hand with bloody mary's with my fam, or this German dish (fat noodles) passed down through many generations MUST be served with watermelon or it just isn't right. A newer tradition (this being year #2-and I've threatened her I'm gonna bake her birthday-suit cookies until the day I bit the big one) is baking a homemade batch of sugar cookies for my gal, Nicki's, birthday. Now these my friends are not your run-0-the-mill baked goods, and you certainly aren't going to see these at the St. Mary's bazaar! Consider yourself lucky since you're going to be privy to a glimpse at what happens behind closed kitchen doors. Here is the recipe:

34b Cup's Infamous Cut Out Sugar Cookies

3/4 C Butter

1 C Sugar

2 Eggs

1/2 t Vanilla

Mix above and then add:

2 1/2 C Flour

1 t Baking Powder

1 t Salt

Chill dough 1 hour or overnight. Roll out dough until 1/8 - 1/4" thick. Select desired cookie cutter and firmly press into dough. This is the "cutter" I always use for Miss Nicki's birthday. Bake at 400 for 6-8 minutes or until golden brown like "buns in the oven". I whip up a simple frosting using a random amount of butter, vanilla, milk and powdered sugar. Frost those babies and decorate with your desired amount of "sprinkles". Check out the final product here (rated R-not X-just R for sexual content). Where might you ask can someone find a cookie cutter of this nature? Who knows-my MOM gave me mine (don't you dare act surprised). Birds of a feather my friends, birds of a feather...

Speaking of birdies-"t" that ball down cuz we tomorrow we hit the links.

XOXO,

34b cup

Fashion Friday & Happy Birthday!

Welcome to a very special Fashion Friday infused with a HAPPY BIRTHDAY wish to my home girl, Nicki (D cup featured in the center with the help of Molly's hands as under wires)(Martina and I for moral support). When I say home girl I really mean it since we both grew up in the same town (East River-just a little FYI). Of course she is much, much, much older (he, he...) than I, AND, went to private Catholic school (naughty girl) while I was a product of the public school system (angel girl) (my blog-nana, nana, boo, boo). I thought it appropriate to use her as this week's FF (Fashion Friday genius) role model. She, I, we love big sun glasses adorned with designer names (hers Prada, mine Fendi). She sports them perched on her button nose for function or flipped up on her head for fashion-but rarely leaving the Grove without them. Check us both out here at a golf tourney (in honor of my little cousin Oliver-love you Ollie) with the "fun team" as we so lovingly called them. Ya see we were the beer/shot cart hoochies and these were the only gents who seemed more into our company than the round. Check out her little guy, Hank, and my gal, Morgan here AND see why I will never be allowed to babysit again (too young to drink and too young to drive? Whatever!). Before you think those gals from S.D. sure drop bank of those designer eye duds you should know the best spot for BIG, designer, totally hip for the summer shades is Saks Off 5th-be sure to check it out. (Be sure to check "The Nick-ster" out here as she strikes a pose, and here as she molests Brian.) Just remember when purchasing your summer eye fashions go big or go home and you'll be just fine. As for Nicki, Happy Birthday my friend, not sure you will be "fine" after the all day, b-day extravaganza...

Now that I've left you a little trail of bloggin' birthday cake to follow... come back next week for the recap on the celebration AND a tradition baked with love.

I "smell" it like I see it...

I've got a sensitive smeller. Call me K-9 nose, but I remember the old Howard Hedger days and how certain kids smelled. Some smelled like funny food (a roundish kid who hid behind the bleachers in P.E.) some like day old grease (a kid who was about 1" from being a dwarf) and some like the heaters their parents toked on while driving them to school (one really naughty kid who refused to put on his boots-so my fav 3rd grade teacher did it for him). I'm not trying to be critical (not really, sort of, whatever) just saying my sense of smell can detect a ciggy from the car behind me at a stop light with the windows up. Of the friends and family who's homes I visit often I can recognize the smell of them. Take my Aunt's house for example. I LOVE the smell-it's some sort of sweet combination of Tide and dryer sheets combined with warm carbohydrates and coffee and a hint of her fabulous perfume. Weird right? My husbands truck smells like dog training dummies, fresh newspapers, turtle mochas' and a hint of dust (not one of my favorite combinations). The bathroom in the historic building I work in smells like cheap air fresheners, damp paper towels, musty tiles and touch of #2 (detectable even by a nose with a head cold-gross!). It is such a strange sensation to taste something and think that it smells like something you have never consumed before. Take for example Diet Coke with Lemon-might as well take a pull of the lemon scented Palmolive used to wash dishes. What about stinky cheese that tastes like what my grandparents lake cabin smelled like when the doors first opened for the season-is this a heightened awareness of what? Anyway, the whole idea of this blog started with me thinking of my new favorite smell from Pottery Barn (this is just a peek into how scary it is to live inside my brain)(so full of random and worthless thoughts). I have 3 Quince scented diffusers and one candle placed all throughout my house (plus the square bottle (function + style) has a nice shape). When I walk in the door the smell is soft-not in your face like a store peddling potpourri. I love the mix of fresh grapefruit and spice just enough to freshen things up a bit. So now before you get all paranoid about me sniffing around your house-forget it-chances are it just smells like, well, you (good, bad, indifferent... I just call it like I see it). Still worried? Swing by your local "barn" and pick a Quince diffuser and you'll be smellin' fine.

Bring your smelly self back tomorrow for Fashion Friday infused with a birthday wish.

Extra Credit Tidbit: Graphic stolen fair and square off the duba, duba, duba and spruced up on photobucket.com!

All Aboard the 784!

J'adore monter le bus! I really, really do love it! I feel good about doing my part to be a bit more "green" and saving Mother Earth one commute at a time. I mean what is better than driving just a couple of miles from home, puttin' er in park, and letting some other knuckle head deal with all the idiots in traffic (don't get me wrong-I'm an idiot too a couple times a week)? It is so simple to just hop on in the "grove" and get dumped off right at the corner where I hook, er ah, I mean work. The $2.75 ride each way even be the most economical (this may be the 1st time ever that I have been associated with the word economical) with gas prices at record highs. Plus, this "down" time gives me a chance to catch up on my latest trashy tabloid (I love US Weekly-more smut, less real life crap) or take in a couple chapters of my latest read (War and Peace-kidding-try The Manny). Above all the people watching here is unreal. You should see what some of these yay-hoo's wear to work; frump city (too harsh?). My only pet peeve, and when I say pet peeve, I mean in the strongest sense of the term... This drives me absolutely, 100%, freakin' nuts... ready??? Some guy gets on the 7:30am 784 each and every morning, jams his ear buds into his greasy ear canals and has the audacity to fall into a sleep sound enough to produce a disgusting, guttural snore so loud I can't believe he sleeps through it. Urrr-aahhhh! I dare him to board and sit next to me some morning, cuz I swear I won't be as nice as that little Asian lady is. The second he sets into his "cadence" my laser-accurate elbow is going right between his two floating ribs! Are you sensing a little pent up hostility this week? I know-a weekend of self medicating with cocktails/friends and I should be back to "normal".

Anywho, get yourself into the bloggy-carpool lane and swing on back tomorrow (don't act like you have anything better to do).

S.O.S.! (save our souls-I mean soles)

So I hinted at the topic yesterday and today I am ready to just get it out in the open and talk about it. As you know I am thinking about all things spring/summer lately and my tootsies are NOT prepared. Ya know when people have housekeepers (if this is you-you suck) and they pre-clean before the cleaning lady comes so he/she won't know how bombed out the house really is? This is exactly the sort of situation I am in except I have to clean my own toilets and we are talking feet here (keep up with me would ya). There is no way in H-E-double hockey sticks that I would dare show my feet to any trained professional in their current state. I wouldn't even consider going to HOT Nails or Turbo Nails or HOT Turbo Nails let alone some fancy-shmancy spa. I have ALOT of work to do before I am letting anyone get up (or down I guess it is) in my business. Running may be good for the ole ticker and may whiddle the middle but it's not doin' my feet any favors. I gotta get rid of the cracks in my heels, the calluses on the underside of my toes and buff and shine my nails before any polish will even consider adhering to them. If this isn't enough to make you gag I'm not sure what is. So anyway I am on a mission to find the latest beauty secret revealed in my recent copy of Lucky. Sally Hansen claims to have it all figured out with the La Cross Foot Smoothing Disc. In fact it is so sought after she doesn't even have it on her website, (probably not a good sign) but she eludes to this magical tool being available for $6 at drugstores. The second I publish this post I am heading to Target in search of this mystery piece of beauty paraphernalia that promises 1 week to perfect feet and toes. I'm looking for a miracle here... I'll keep ya posted.

PS IF ANYONE EVER takes a photo of me at the same angle as this unknown couple (circa 1936) and puts it on the internet for everyone to see I will hunt you down...

Now that we have that all cleared up-bring your perfectly polished little piggies back tomorrow for the inside scoop aboard the MG 784.

I'm No Pansey!

I have stage 4 spring fever. I am so sick of the cool weather and the grey skies I want to subscribe to one of those unlimited tanning salon promos. Why are we being punished with these 35 degree days when the AVERAGE high is supposed to be 55?!? Maybe that is the reason Paul Douglas (a local TV station's "goof on the roof") got the boot... folks 'round here think he's jinxing things. I am so over my winter wardrobe and ready for fun skirts, no sleeves and sandals-even though my feet are in need of some serious work. I love all my blogging friends in the Lonestar State but I am green with envy over the foliage I keep seeing in all their recent posts. Finally, yesterday Old Ma Nature decided to get her rear in gear and gave us a "hit" of sunshine to give me a little vitamin D fix (Hi, my name is Brooke and I am a sun-addict) I have been hankerin' for. I took FULL advantage. I drove myself straight the the nearest greenhouse with the windows down & the heat on so Miss Kato could ride with her head out the window. My pursuit? An annual as hearty as the people who put up with this crappy un-spring-like weather. The cute green-thumbed-gardener assured me pansies are no push overs. She said to acclimate them slowly over the next few days by keeping them tucked in over night since they are used to the toasty warm green house. Eight containers of pansies and $14.71 later I am back in my front yard filling my Southern exposed window box with my own little taste of Spring. And just because I love you I took a few pictures in attempt to put a little "Spring" in your step too. And if they die... I'm gonna go back to that greenhouse and poke holes in that woman's hose if ya know what I mean.

Ahhhhh, can't wait to see you again tomorrow-I think the forecast is calling for sun!

Happy Birthday!

Happy Birthday to my cousin (or close enough) Heidi.

Hope you have a rockin' time out on the town. Don't do anything I wouldn't do!

(translation: do just about anything)

And for sure don't do anything Kimberli wouldn't do!

(translation: go completely crazy!)

Oh Well(ies)!

Happy Fashion Friday my blogging optimists who are still thinking "April showers will bring May flowers." Oh, well(ie) enough pouting-if you have to trudge through puddles (or slush) why not do so in style?!? I love these of very British boots for sloppy Spring puddle jumping. Grab a pair of these fun rubber boots also known as gum boots and preserve those cute little patent shoes you have been dying to wear. How cute is this little chick with a more "utilitarian" pair of wellingtons & her fun retro-looking skirt, stripe shirt and crazy hat (no, she's not retarded...sort of stole that line from my fav movie 16 Candles)? I mean seriously, you know if Pucci approves its gotta be O.K. (don't fall in love with these unless you are getting a fat tax return). Even the celebs (she's such a hussy) pull on a pair of galoshes (we Yankees are so silly) to navigate through messy, muddy terrain. I plan on wearing mine with a darling little sun dress (not) to do all my gardening and weeding (plus no chance of any groggy-just-out-of-hibernation snakes or creepy crawlers making contact with your polished little piggies). In the name of Arthur Wellesley, 1st Duke of Wellington (who wore and popularized them) just go get-cher self a fun pair to wear with a spring skirt, cuffed jeans or if you (Nair) wear short, shorts (or dare wear short, shorts).

Can't wait to see you tomorrow. YES! On a Saturday! I have to wish a special little lady a very Happy Birthday...

Save the Ta-Tas!

Today we tackle a serious topic with a titch of good humor (I know, good humor is a change of pace for me). On a serious note I know many great woman who's lives have been impacted by breast cancer. I am so proud and overjoyed to say these strong, courageous and beautiful women have been victorious in the battle against cancer. I won't name anyone by name (only because I didn't ask their permission first) but they are inspirational not only because they fought this terrible disease head on, but because they decided, "they had cancer and cancer didn't have them!" These feisty chicks all put up there dukes and told the big "C" to take a hike! But, we gotta (and by "we" I mean all those smarties from your college biology labs) find out what we can do to make sure we are able to SAVE ALL THE TA-TAS OF THE WORLD! Big (C's and ups), little (B's and smaller), perky (well, one perk to the B's), saggy (damn babys) we must, we must, we must preserve our busts! So listen get yourself some of this new, "boob lube," which is shower soap with a smart little calendar on the back to remind ladies to "round to second base" each month. Go on cop a feel for cry'in out loud cuz we all know early detection is the key. Now, I know we've been talking about getting our butts off the couch to get fit for the Summer... which is a perfect time for me to remind you about the Race for the Cure on Mother's Day at the MOA. Come support ta-tas everywhere by walking with your family and friends. I am working on roundin' up a group of troops so just holla if you are interested in joining in. Click here for more information on the race (use the term race loosely-you can walk, run, hell skip for all I care-just come out for a great cause)! Now of course we all know how important it is to race in style so pick up any of these great save the ta-tas T's by following the little link in the left column of my blog. You can bet your boobies I will be wearing one! TTNF-see ya tomorrow!

Itsy, Bitsy, Teeney, Weenie...

and when I say "weenie" I mean as in yellow polka dot you dirt balls. Well anyway, if you had a chance to snoop around the sidebar of my blog you will see a new feature. I know, no one wants to do it and fur-shur no one wants to utter a word about it. But my vitamin D deficient blogging pals we can no longer avoid the countdown to summer and the dreaded preparation of bikini season. I know. The sun maybe hasn't seen those hard to reach parts since last summer and maybe longer. Before you freak out and decide to sit this one out and just hang in the A/C all summer chill a sec. There's time kids we just need to get our fannies in gear and hit the trails ASAP. We have exactly 73 days from this point forth to do what we have to do to stand a chance against the battle of the winter bulge. I am going to face the battle head on and target the areas on my body that have suffered the most "winter kill." See for me it's the extra in the saddle bag area & the additional junk in the trunk I have been carrying around. I mean I'm no idiot-I'm not gonna hang with Kate Moss by the summer solstice, but getting a bit more lean is totally do-able. So anyway I did a little math (not really my bro-in-law did) and figured working out 5 times a week between today and Summer 1 mean 50 work outs (at which point he said "that sounds terrible"). Whatever, I am always up for a good challenge and I thought if I put it on the blog you might (and I might) hold me to it. Listen, we're not talking lb's here we are talking about the feel good factor which I think is what matters most. So here is my pact to you... I'm gonna work on tightening up my cheeks and ironing out my dimples (not on my face you nerd-farther south) and when I do I'm gonna find some cute lifeguard-type and perform this "chest stand" like in the photo instead of my typical keg stand (another blog post). (PS I have no idea who the goof balls are in this keg stand photo, but I think this chick's form is a perfect 10)

See all you toned and tanned bloggers tomorrow (and you pale and ones too).

Rise and Shine

Latte is right sister! A latte money is deducted from the family checking account each week to get our fill of the fully leaded, high octane, piping hot beverage that clears the cob webs from our sleepy heads. My hubby has been known to consume up to two of the medium-non-fat(***ya right)-turtle-mocha's a day from the folks at the Bou (cha-ching). I my blogging barristas love, love, love my Cuisinart Thermal Grind and Brew for sure one of my favorite things. I am pretty confident I have mastered the perfect cup-o-joe. We brew only the best in the Grove and my personal fav is Starbucks Breakfast Blend baby-no Folgers here (best part of waking up my arse!). My perfect concoction is 1 part fat free vanilla International Delight and 4 parts freshly brewed java (I mean seriously it is crucial when your alarm fires off at 5:10am). Now if your the fancy coffee type (my husband once ordered his fav drink with a hunting buddy and his pal asked if his coffee came with a purse-ha!) may I suggest a really cool new kitchen appliance? I mean this is really rockin'. The Nespresso machine can make a true cup of espresso or a more coffee like version of it (for all the light weights). Step One: just pop a little "pod" of your prepacked caffeinated-drug of choice, press one button and its show time. Step Two: Fill up the Aeroccino (yah, I know not sure who was the wise gal/guy that came up with the names) with milk a press of another little button and voila you are on your way to the perfect froth and steamed milk. The downside? Be sure you have the coffee "pods" on the grocery list when you do all your shopping at Bloomingdales. With these kind of brew at home options there is no need to shell out $5 a pop at the local boulangerie (hubby) & on the contrary I don't recommend a $1 cup from your local 7-Eleven unless you want to spend the rest of the day in the johnnie.

***One of my best gal pals was a Indigo barrista and recently confessed spiking all the skinny girls drinks with whole milk when the ordered skim-I mean seriously it doesn't get any better than that! Can't wait to see all you white lie telling bloggers tomorrow!

Home, Home on the Range...

...where the deer and the B cups play. I single handedly shot this video (impressive, I know) of a herd of Bambis' right in my own back yard. I hope they all evade the Elmer Fudd's of the world (and your bumper) and make it through many-a-deer-hunting-seasons.

It's always fun to jet set, but even sweeter to come back H-O-M-E. When I arrived home at 1:30am I plopped my bags down at the door, took a shower hot enough to quickly empty our water heater and wash away the travel funk. Ooooohhhhh, did it feel good to pull the flannel sheets up to my chin in MY OWN BED after being gone for a week. Then my hubby crawled in and tossed and turned until he found just the right spot to begin his slumber (and muffled snore). Aaahhhh, oh well (back to me) I just re-fluffed my pillow and found another cozy position and re-tucked the sheets up high around my neck. And then; Miss Kato flops her 80 pound frame along the other side of my travel weary body and claims her stake on our now fully loaded king size bed. Hhhhhmmm, (all about me once again) I just streeetttchhh each of my legs out enough so I have carved a perfect little spot to catch some zzzzz'z. Ughh, by now my husband re-adjusted and was breathing right in my face and I could hardly separate carbon dioxide from fresh oxygen. I decide to roll over which is a struggle since I was then "pinned" like a " crazy in a St. Peter straight jacket" in between the dog and my hubby. Once I finally got turned over and correctly the pajamas that where wrapped around my body like a tightly wrung out rag-I nestled right back in... Until Miss Kato started dreaming-tail flopping, legs striding and lip curling to release a sleepy woof in her REM pursuit of whatever she was chasing. Time check... 2:17am and I briefly reminisce about the apartment in NYC and a bed all to myself. In my last attempt to get comfortable I hold my breath and puuuussssshhhh both of my legs out to the sides (so glad for the extra reps on the inner/outter thigh machine at the club) successfully moving the dead weight my sleepy hound on my right and my drooling hubby on the left. PRAISE J.C. !!! I could finally drift off into my much anticipated sleep thinking "it's so great to be home!"

Rub the "sleep" out of the corners of your eyes and come back around tomorrow for your morning cup of java and your dose of the 34b cups!

A smidgin' of the east coast...

Well now that didn't take long now did it? I think I just might be hooked. I think I may like being a part-time New Yorker. I mean just today I left the apartment in Tribeca and jumped on the 6 train uptown and got off Spring Street just in between Lafayette and Broadway (Soho for all you Midwesterners) to run a few errands and act important. This city has great energy and ooodles of people everywhere. I noticed a few things... people don't look at people much-everyone is just pretty much on a mission to get where they need to go and making any eye contact just isn't worth the extra effort. I notice people wear A LOT of black, brown, grey and navy-so just to go against the grain I bought something I have had my eye on for really long time. Now if these don't say hello 34b cup I don't know what does! Yes, the low tops-woulda sprung for the high top Chuck-e-Taylors except they didn't offer them in my signature color. I spotted Keri Russel and her cute little bambino strolling down W Broadway by the Amish Market. Of course I can hear city folk round here talk a little funny and though I haven't quite put my finger the exact problem yet I do know I am a little more aware of how the folks in the movie Fargo sounded. I am amazed at how everything gets delivered. I mean I have NEVER been know for being frugal, but picture me on the subway, sweating like a hoar in church, toting more bags, upon parcels, upon packages trying to avoid the average $15.00 courier fee?!? Listen I give up-once the 35b cups began to collect the always attractive cleavage (or lack there of) sweat-I gave up surrendered. Sign me up deliver it all-the $15 bones is worth it my friend. Only in the big apple does the cute chick at triple B (Bed, Bath and Beyond) asked if my boss, "was my husband?" What she was really wondering is why does your "husband" like boys too, or why is he "gay as dutch doors" as he himself says?!? We both got a kick outta that! I mean where else do you get to stay in a great apartment on the 31st floor (overlooking the "hole" - I know a little grim -think 9/11) with your other boss, who is also as he says, "a little light in the loafers" AND have cocktails at the proper hour, a pre-dinner drink, followed by wine with dinner, succeeded by an after dinner drink and just in case I wasn't fuzzy by then one more "night cap" at home in our jammies. Why not have that last shot of port before bed. Gheez-these guys/ladies/whatever really know how to take care of a woman (alright, in some ways). Anyway, think of me tomorrow night as the B's sail over the US of A headed toward home (and detox).

I can't go until I say a very special thanks to my bloggy sitter and friend, Ms. Nicki. I mean did she do a great job or what? And if you think I didn't text her in a moment of panic about missing a post then you are totally kidding yourself. Ahhh, it's gonna be good to be home.

Technical Difficulties

Due to technical difficulties, 34b Cup has no access to the internet. Who's shocked here? You're getting everything lined up, everything hinges on getting the stupid computers hooked up, you schedule the guy to come, he comes, he leaves, and nothing works. Then you call your IT guy, and he won't return you calls. Its not a big deal to him because his computer works, and now you've turned into one of those freaks who can't live without their computer. So you grab the closest thing you have to a computer, and its your pink razor phone, and you text everyone you know..."F! Stupid computers!"

I'm Hank and I'm bloggy sitting for 34b Cup. I wanted to put a cute picture of her and me on the internet, but this is as close as I could find. It includes things she loves dearly: Kato baby girl, her cute jeans, and well, of course me!

The noises sounded like they were coming from a zoo,
HAJ

Dance Party 34b cup and friends...

Remember when we used to pull on our size 4 Express "black pants," tuck our feet into uncomfortable shoes and freeze b/c we left our jackets in the car while we ran I.D. in hand to the club entrance?!? Gosh, we WERE all that and a can-a-beans fur sure! Those were the days of pressing the 34b cups up against the bar in attempt to get the bartenders attention (dah-it didn't work). I know you recall the nights of purchasing round after round of at-the-time-expensive cocktails and waking the next morning feeling like someone kicked your arse, stole all your money and pooped in your mouth (yes, some of this still happens). These were the nights of wearing matching bra and undies AND pre-parties AND after-parties. Then at some point you get old... Everyone you hang with procreates and the party moves from sticky dance floors to sunken living rooms. Instead of starting at 9 we meet at 5. Instead of bartenders we self retrieve beers from the garage fridge. AND instead of matching undergarments I make sure I don't have any holes in my wool socks. BUT, my friends, we haven't completely lost it yet. The consumption still happens and then we do this... (sorry it so dark-we keep it that way so you can't see the forming crows feet) Can't wait to see you tomorrow (without the beer goggles on).

EXTRA, EXTRA, read all about it!

I can't believe it and you won't either! I wake up and feel nausaus! My tummy is pushing over the waist band of my sevens! I am consuming Ben and Jerry's Cherry Garcia by the pint full! I don't know whether to paint the now guest room Benjamin Moore 2063-70 Cumulus Cotton or 2008-60 Little Piggy! My hubby is logging the miles from casa 34b (working on 34c) to the nearest hospital! I'm thinking of a Mazda5 mini van instead of a Mazda3 hatchback! I just ordered a suction-cup-attached "Baby on Board" sign for that van! Instead of push ups I'm dreaming of breast pumps! My latest read is "What to expect..." instead of "The Manny!" I mean if we aren't careful we could seriously screw this kid up! I have so much going on right now I almost, and I mean ALMOST forgot to wish you a Happy April Fools Day! Maybe I should have opted for the ole rubber band on the kitchen faucet sprayer trick?