The Little Man works it

People are always on the lookout for a good deal. They like to think they got a bargain. Any little bit counts. For whatever the reason, there are those that will haggle over every little price. Trust me, I know. I've had plenty of yard sales. One woman thought paying $3 for a Tommy Hilfiger skirt that was never worn was too much. She haggled it down to $2. Really people?

Just this past weekend we sold Coach sneakers for $2. The original $4 price tag was too high. I get the bargaining thing. Really I do. I get the yard sale thing too. Sure, you don't expect to pay top dollar. Sometimes you just want to reach out and slap a bitch, tell them to go to the store and find some designer merchandise for $4. Not gonna happen.

It's the whole art of the deal. They need that deal. You see it everywhere. I've seen people work it for free drinks in bars, people haggle for discounts on clothing that have a slight defect. I'm actually impressed a lot of the time. I would never think to do what they do which is why I usually don't get the discounts or the free drinks.

Sure, occasionally I notice a stain & mention it to the cashier and get that 15% discount but damn, I must admit, I am mortified doing so. Hell yeah it feels great getting that cheaper price but sometimes it is embarassing asking for it. Which is why it's even better, more brilliant and an even sweeter deal when you don't have to ask for it and get it anyway.

It has nothing to do with me. If I were by myself I wouldn't have gotten any discount whatsoever. I can guarantee that. It's my little man. Nothing makes me more proud than to have my little man Charlie Brown work it for me at the car dealership. That's right people. My little tyke got me a discount. Or as the saleswoman referred to it, "the cute dog discount".

Just by being cute, Charlie saved us money. Personally, I think he knew what he was doing. He really does know how to work it. Once he saw the saleswoman looking at him he really turned on the charm. Paw up, belly exposed. Yes, he saw an opportunity and he took it.

She asked me to bring him back next time. I can guarantee he'll have top priority seating waiting for him. At home he'll be getting an extra frosty paws.

Where to call Home?

I am a nomad. I may have left this fact out when I met Mike. I don't think he realized what he was in store for. He's a settle-down-in-one-place kind of guy. I do not like to stay in one place. Ever. The idea of forever is not something I like to think about. Sure it may seem "nice". Find a place you love, or think you do, buy a house and settle down.

Warning sign number one. Settle down. Translation - stay put, tied down, get bored. Die. Ok, maybe that last part is a slight exaggeration but you get the picture. I do not like to be in one place forever. Maybe it's just that I haven't found that perfect place or maybe it's just that I'm not that person who is meant to be in one place forever. Whichever way you look at it we have a problem.

I love to watch those shows on T.V. where they are looking at houses in different areas all over the country and all over the world. I see a new place and think how great it would be to live there. The thrill of unchartered territories, discovering new areas, finding new shops, new neighborhoods, new roads, just new everything. It's so fun & adventurous.

Mike always laughs at me because everytime I see a different city I tell him that it would be nice to live there. He knows that all would be good for a few years and then I would be done and ready to move on after that. Or would I? How am I to know if something is right for me or not if I don't try it out? I could be missing out on so many areas simply because I chose to settle down in another. Part of the problem is that I've discovered years ago that the place that I was meant to live is Paris and since it can't happen at this moment, I must spend my life finding a replacement. Not an easy thing to do.

I used to be a traveller. That was all I wanted to do. Travel the world, see new sights, experience all that the world had to offer. Why would I want to limit myself to just my immediate surroundings? I was happiest when I was travelling. Stepping off the plane in a new location, finding my hotel, unpacking, settling in. I loved it all.

Walking outside to start the journey in a new place is a great feeling. I miss that. Most of all I miss me when I was exciting. I feel like when I'm on the move I'm more alive. I need to bring that person back. Travel helped me not mind where I lived as much because I was able to move around so much. Once that was curbed, my restlessness grew. I felt like I was stuck.

I do a lot of thinking on where I want to live and where I want to be. I still have no clue. Depending on the day, I want to live either here or there. I told Mike that I am willing to live anywhere for at least a few years. I mean that. Location must be within reason of course. A girl's got standards.

Shark Encounter

"We are going snorkeling in La Jolla this weekend".

Oh shit. As you can see, excitement was not my first reaction. I knew there was no getting out of this one. I'm not going to lie. I'm all for a little adventure, a little danger, but this was different. It had nothing to do with the recent Great White Shark sighting or the gathering of the Leopard Sharks.

Nope, those were the cool facts. This is what draws the crowds, adds to the excitement. I'm a thrill seeker. I love these things. If we were in Hawaii, I'd be one of the first ones in the water but this was different. About 20 degrees different.

Ah the Pacific Ocean. For those of you that don't know let me explain. I'm not up for freezing my ass off. Yes, this body of water is cold. Very cold. Even in the height of summer. Of course it doesn't help that we haven't had a very warm summer either. I knew what I was in store for but I wasn't going to be the one to say no.

The day arrived. 65 degrees and cloudy. Really? Full body wet suit for me. Oh look - just as I suspected - I'm given neon yellow come-get-me-shark-flippers. Perfect. I saw that on a documentary once. Those sharks love yellow the most. Red came in second. Go figure. As we walked towards the water I just kept thinking of the icy bath we'd bjumping in. What was I doing? Oh wait, I did have to pee, maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all.....

I was in. OH MY GOD IT WAS COLD. We're all in. Mike, check. Teresa, check. Gotta keep moving. I'd better see something. We were swimming around for a while when we saw one. A Leopard Shark. Mike grabbed the camera. We swam after it but it's fast. We had been in the water for a while and it's actually not that bad anymore. It could be because I had lost all feeling in my body. At this point it didn't matter - we were on the shark hunt. And the Teresa hunt. We lost her.

Then it happened. Well yes, we found Teresa but it's what we found with her that was absolutely amazing - the school of Leopard Sharks. They were everywhere. At first we thought we would just see 2 or 3. Then it was like a sand veil lifted and there they were. 10 to 15 sharks just swimming around right under us. We were so excited that we just stayed there, floating, then we tried to reach out and touch them. They weren't that far away, maybe about 3 feet. At one point I remember just floating, surrounded by sharks, with sunbeams shooting from above and my hair like a halo of red encircling my face. Yeah, that's right I said it. Don't be hating on my halo.

We were entranced for at least 15 minutes when all of a sudden we realized, it's freezing in here. We hadn't moved from our spot for so long that we knew that was the end of it. As long as we had kept moving we were good. I couldn't feel my feet or hands. It was time to get out. We rode the waves back to shore. As we walked back to get our bags and the sun warmed us up, the feeling slowly returned to our limbs.

I may have not been excited when I first heard about the snorkeling expedition but I will say this - not once did it ever cross my mind to say no. I knew it would be cold but I also knew there would be so many things that we experienced on that trip that would far outweigh that minor inconvenience. Friends, sharks, sunbeams and halos - all worth a few frozen limbs. Oh and a couple of lost toenails (they were loose anyway). But given the choice again I'd say yes, bring me that wetsuit and my neon yellow come-get-me-shark-flippers.

Do we really need to know ALL the details?

I work out. There, I've said it. Now you know. I belong to 24 hour fitness. I love to go to dance class, perhaps take shadowboxing or kickboxing, sometimes pop in on yoga and maybe, on occasion, even go to bootcamp. On the weekends my husband and I will try, when we aren't lazy and when we are feeling inspired, to bike ride from our house to the beach. The bike path is only 8 miles and it's a direct run.

However, these are things that I do not brag about. These are things that when I finish I see as a huge accomplishment each time I get through them. I do not post it on my facebook or twitter on a daily or weekly basis or send out a newsletter alerting the masses that I'm cool like that. Do I really think the world needs to know that I exercise on a regular basis? No. So here's the question - why is it that people feel the need to give a run down of their daily workout activities? Is it to make us think they are super fit? To think they are really dedicated to fitness? I don't know about you but that's not the first thought that comes to my mind.

The daily report. I'm not just talking about a little blurb. I'm talking full run down. How many miles ran, squats, lunges, jumping jacks, pull ups, reps with a weight bar, crunches, well you get the picture. Why stop there? Why don't you give me your full menu for the day? Let's get the tally of how many calories were ingested so I know what I'm up against.

As if that weren't bad enough, you have to read that this was just to start their day. Are you freaking kidding me? Apparently they want some feedback or else they wouldn't be bothering to post all the details of their fabulous fitness routine. So really the question is this - should I tell them how amazing they are or just leave a comment with the first thought that came to my mind? I think you know which way I'm leaning.

The Infamous Question Returns

It happened again. The infamous question. This time I can absolve my hairdresser of all guilt. I had spent an hour in the chair, chatting, getting cut and styled to perfection. I had just finished telling "my man" about my brilliant find & perfect match in Frederic Fekkai's at home hair color only to have it taken away before I could start stocking up for when the time came to cover those nasty grays. I think he felt my pain.

I was just about finished. Out of the chair, shake the hair, get that final spray. Damn I was looking pretty fine. Well, at least my hair was. I turned to walk away when I heard it. Off to the side, that question. I wasn't sure if I heard correctly so at first I ignored it. It came from the salon owner. Hhhmmm. I turned back in time to see my guy smile, shrug and say "You'll have to ask her yourself". Nice save. He probably forgot. Owner repeated, "Is that your natural haircolor?" I replied yes. "Wow, that's a great color, I wish we made that here", Owner said. I sighed. Damn, that answers my question. I replied, "So do I".

Hindsight - I should have told him Fekkai makes it. A little healthy competition never hurt anyone.

French 101

I love France. More specifically Paris. Yes, I am indeed a Francophile. Always have been. Why, I have no clue. I chalk it up to being part French although my brother doesn't feel the same way I do. Hey, what can I say? Not everyone can be as stylish and trendy as me. The brother just doesn't get it. There is just something about Paris that is magical. It can't even be described which always makes it so hard to write about. Waking up to the smell of crusty breads fresh from the oven, the sounds of shops opening up, bicycles pedaling by your window. Nope, doesn't do it justice. Each time I went back I found something new that made me fall in love even more. I walk on clouds when I'm there. Literally. I have pictures to prove it. Paris is amazing.

I am always excited to find a product to bring Paris or France into my home. Whether it's a picture to hang or a dress that screams "Parisian lady walking down the Champs Elysees", yes, I'm going to buy it. Which is why I was thrilled to find a product called Votre Vu. It's a double bonus - a fabulous product that works amazingly well on your face and body AND here's the clincher.....IT'S FRENCH!! You can imagine how happy I was to discover this. Not only is it from France, but the labels are also in French (also in English) Brilliant. Every morning and night when I open my medicine cabinet I see those perfectly lined bottles of Votre Vu smiling back at me and it's almost as if for a moment I can lose myself in the ultimate French dream - living in Paris. And at affordable prices!

For now, I must be content with my face full of French cream until the day comes when I finally make it happen and jump the pond to the other side. But now it's time to prepare for Bastille Day. French restaurant here we come.

*Disclaimer - I don't speak or read French. Love carries me through.....

A coastal difference

I have always loved to throw parties. Notice the use of past tense here. When I lived in NYC, my house was the place for all of the gatherings, year round. That's just the way it was. Invites went out, whether by mail or phone or word of mouth and RSVPs always came back. Always. That too was just the way it was. As I've annoyingly discovered over the past few years living in San Diego, this is another one of the huge differences I have found between the east coast & the west coast. At first I thought it might just be a sign of the times. I know how busy things are, how hectic things can be, how some things just aren't top priority. F*ck that. This is about common courtesy people.

Since the first party we have thrown on the west coast, we have noticed that most people just don't care. Okay, so it's not everyone. There are a few people that are great - they respond to invites, whether it's yes or no - and we appreciate the courtesy and respect that they show which is why they get repeat invites and which is also why we attend their functions. But there are those that ignore or even worse, just don't show up. I forgot is not a valid excuse. This was a basic lesson taught in high school.

Right up there with the non-RSVPer is the "I changed my mind" guest. They say yes and as the date gets closer they decide they either have a better option or they just don't feel like coming anymore and come up with a usually lame reason for why they can't make it. What makes both of these types of invitees great is that at some point I have gone out of my way to attend functions for them. My favorite is this - both types of these guests will actually think nothing of what they've done and then invite you to they're next party or event and expect you to come. Seriously? I must have dumb ass written across my forehead. Well, actually I used to but no more. I got out the washcloth and scrubbed that sh*t off. So go ahead and invite me. Guess what the answer will be.