Today was the day. I encountered my first full length fur. To my amazement, she was not wearing sweats.

Some say that copying is the sincerest form of flattery.

I opened a recent invitation from someone we know in Atlanta and found shocking similarities to several Barnes Place events. Their experiences at Barnes Place and the Barnes Place Formula for Event Success certainly were divine inspiration.

Breaking News …

Mega Millions Fever Broke. Several days of high temperature frenzy to buy handfuls of Mega Millions tickets, the fever broke after someone struck gold. One lucky winner in California matched all the Mega Millions numbers and will take home a $315 million jackpot.

After checking my numbers and tossing my ticket into the recycle bin, I wondered what would one person do with all that money? It will be interesting to see.

I will freely admit I was momentarily caught up in the Mega Millions fever. On my way home from a meeting I went out of my way to purchase a ticket. Under normal circumstances I buy 1 or 2 tickets each week.

I went a bit overboard tonight. I splurged and bought 5 tickets for tonights draw. I couldn’t control myself with a jackpot worth over $300 million dollars.

Yeah, yeah, I know my chances of winning the jackpot are 1 in 175,711,536. I figure what the heck, crazier things have happened.

Since Tim and I haven’t taken any trips this year, we decided to splurge on our adventure to San Francisco. We turned in a pile of miles to fly first class. I am always game for a wider seat and more leg room … oh yeah, and free cocktails too.

It has been a couple of years since I’ve been in First Class since I don’t travel much for work anymore. I was so looking forward to a bit of pampering on the long flight.

Lunch was about to be served (that alone is a miracle) and along came the flight attendant with a warm towel. On her next round, she placed the linen over my tray table. I looked down and stared in disbelief. I looked right, then left, thinking she ran out of linens.

Oh no, everyone was staring at the same thing I was. The linens had been replaced with a blue paper placemat. I immediately ordered a cocktail to take the edge off. The bubbly flight attendant returned with my beverage. I grasp the glass, eager to sink into the comfy seat and sip my cocktail from a glass, glass.

I sighed deeply as my brain sorted out the signals from my hands and eyes. It wasn’t glass. Oh no, just a fancy plastic cup, just like I get in coach. I finished it off in a couple of swigs and ordered another – it was going to take a whole lot more to numb the pain.

There are no more meals, pillows or magazine. I wondered, what will be next? Bring your own glass or toilet paper. One thing is for certain, you will always be able to buy a cocktail in coach. Someone has to help pay for the cocktails I drank on that first class flight.

Just plane fun…I am amazed at what we pay for… mediocre service, jam packed planes and bag of Sun Chips on a 4 hour flight. Next time, I expect to be branded, poked with a cattle prod, then handed a bill for services rendered.

Overheard while getting a haircut …

“Now I got more hair grow’n out my ears then on top of my head”

Wrapped in a towel, infront of the mirror, putting in my contacts, reality quickly came into focus. Oh no, not the graying temples, or the patch of gray hair on my chest. Something even more sinister.

Love Handles! Plain as day…the morning light giving them a healthy glow. It popped out of my mouth before I realized it, Loudly I declared “I’m not in love with you! Love Handles begone!” I laughed at the outburst and glanced back with the tiny hope my love handles left willingly. Alas, they still cling to me.

As I shaved, I wondered how they got their name? What possessed someone to call them love handles? I giggled at the dirty thoughts that danced in my head. As the saucey images faded like the disco beats of yesteryear, I found no logical explanation to marry “love” and “handle”.

Then, memories of being a chubby kid flooded my head (God love the baggage of childhood) and my adult-onset vanity set in. I smiled at myself and started my new mantra …

“Love Handles begone!”

I’ve always heard, a mantra-a-day will keep the love handles away!

Oh okay, I’m eventually gonna eat smaller meals and get off my butt to exercise. In the meantime, I continue with the mantra …

“Love Handles begone!”

He says I keep them in a bubble
Why would he say that?
They run about the house

He says I keep them in a bubble
He is so wrong?
“Go slow on the stairs boys”

He says I keep them in a bubble
Why does he think that?
“Don’t jump off the bed boys”

He says I keep them in a bubble
Umm … Such a silly statement?
“HEY! Don’t eat that”

He says I keep them in a bubble
Errr … How absurd?
We have to get back to walk them now

I keep them in a bubble
What am I thinking?
I just want them safe

I keep them in a bubble
So very true
I love them so

Living in the Stepford like community has it’s advantages. Low crime, clean streets, a kick butt recycling program, and “manicured” is used to describe both lawns and residents.

Our mail carrier delivered a neighbors piece of mail to us by mistake. I’m in shock at the moment and not because it is trashy porn. It’s just a catalog; mind you, not your everyday clothing, housewares, or decor catalog.

Oh no, we are talking about the November 2005 edition of the Paula Young catalog. Some of you may be wondering, who or what Paula Young is and why is this guy wasting my time?!?

Paula Young, if you must know, is “America’s Natural Choice for Beautiful Hair”. Hair care products? Oh no, even better, wigs, and plenty of them. Glamorous gals, made up and decked out in the sexy fashions with hot new “hairdos”.

Every page is more amazing than the next. I was especially captivated by the real hair wigs and simple steps to finding your correct head size.

I now know one dirty little secret to a perfectly manicured resident. The most important question, “Will my new wig be shipped in discrete, plain brown packaging?”