Newport folk festival
So, I’m not big into GET THE MAN crap and all that jazz (no pun intended) but this weekend at the Newport Folk Festival, (for which I battled 6 friggin’ hours of traffic on the Connecticut Freeway -it’s only supposed to take three) with my mother telling me to TURN AROUND and come home (every 30 minutes or so on the cell — maybe because I kept calling her and telling her I was in friggin’ bumper to bumper and I don’t know what to do) and by the time I finally got to the festival to see one of my favorite groups (SWELL SEASON) to sing, I was ready to KILL someone and this BE THE MAN. (Not sure if that is the correct venacular, but you get my drift.)
So, apparently there is a “rule” that all the screaming (well, not really screaming, this is a folk festival after all–do these people look they are about to jump on the stage and wrap their sweaty bras around Glen’s head? They don’t EVEN own bra’s.)
Back to the screaming fans, so “we” are allowed to stand next to the stage for 3 songs and take pictures. But that’s it just 3. And then the ASSHOLE started chasing us out after only TWO and Glen’s all like HEY, WHERE YOU THEY GOING? (In case you don’t know, Glen is Glen Hansard of Swell Season) WHY ARE YOU LEAVING??? And then we say, he’s making us! Glen, my new hero says in his adorable Irish accent FUCK EM, if those people who are sitting down can’t see, let ’em stand up. So of course Asshole turns red and is very upset because the one thing that he has to his ego is that blazing SECURITY label on his bright yellow shirt. That and a god damn walkie talkie.
So, Glen wins the war and we all get to stay. Best concert ever. Just 2 hours too short.
The most beautiful place on earth
So, I’ve been trying to figure out where to go on vacation this summer, and well YEAH, I guess it’s a little late considering summer feels half over to me when July 4th weekend is upon us. But anyhow, I found this site, and who CAN resist a click. And here it is.
The most beautiful place on earth. Yup. I agree. Now how to get there on a non-salaried CEO’s salary. Any thoughts?
Happy Father’s Day Dear Daddy
Happy Father’s Day Dear Dad,
you are never far from my thoughts,
I hope all is wonderful and happy where you are
And you are having a nice laugh with all our shenanigans.
We love you.
We miss you.
My dearest dad.
Love,
Lara
Halfway there and Memorial Day memories, 2010
And suddenly I find myself in that weird age group called middle aged. Somewhere between this:
and this:
I still more or less feel like this:
So when that AARP thing came in the mail box I’m, “like who the fuck you mailing to, ME?? I don’t think so.” But I particularly got to thinking this weekend (about age and such) when I should have been thinking things Memorial (which I did).
That being said, I tried to have a minute of peace without dogs, or daughters, up at the Doral Arrowwood only to be interrupted by planes (every 15 minutes), trains (joking) and fire alarms (yes at 1 in the AM I was standing in my sleeping jersey , a sweat shirt and shorts with ex-Yankee baseball player, Paul O’Neill- And I hate Yankees) because someone was smoking in a non-smoking room (so because of that I got $25 off my next stay, would you go?) At last today, I’m getting 5 minutes of peace and quiet at the pool and this lady who is in her golden years starts talking about her doctor’s appointments and her ailments and then starts burping and she says, “I hope its not my pancreas.” And am like “give me the headsets to drown out the noise of Westchester.” And after a moment I think, “I hope its not her pancreas either.”
Lara’s Love Life: Part I don’t know what –I found him…or so I thought
So, things haven’t been so friggin’ bad for a struggling startup CEO. I’ve been happy for a change. But busy. Too busy to write, to post, and dear internet I’ve MISSED you! but then again… it’s not like I’m off line or anything, but alas, I digress.
So, in all our expansive expansion, we are moving into a REAL office– not just the fake, Micro Office setup which isn’t bad. To start off. But, we’re moving across the street and upon my exam of the new space I saw him coming out of the elevator. He smiled. I turned to my partner and said, “we are taking the space.” Now of course I LOOKED at it too, and it was perfect. More or less for Manhattan, but anyhoo… Two days later, I see him in my favorite organic coffee shop and I’m like, “this is FRIGGIN’ Kismet.” So, overhearing his conversation about websites, I go over and PRETEND I need his services, and I get his number and I pretend I don’t know that he works in the building I am moving into, and lo and behold I find out who he uses for sanitation and all those sundry office expenses that you can’t possibly image exist– like INSURANCE, blah, blah, blah. AND it turns out he has office space for rent and is all pissed off that the super didn’t tell me about HIS space and I’m like all, “hey, I just signed my lease, but I have 2 days to reneg, so let me take a look at yours (and I’ll show you mine- hehe), but anyway, we plan to meet the next day at his office. And, hey, don’t get me wrong I NEVER know when someone is interested, but his EYES DID light up the next day when I showed up. And I’m like, Kismet.
Thus, when one week later, I chose to email him to grab a bite for lunch (business yabber and all that) and he said sure, when? I assumed, and you know what that means, that perhaps he too felt the kismet of our meeting.
So today, we meet in his rainy (soon to be my) lobby and he walks very fast to the restaurant, I’m like “he is NOT interested.” But over Cobb salads we bond about movies and databases, and I’m like yes. YES. I found him. He likes Quentin Tarantino and god, a whole bunch of others, and the glimmer is DEFINITELY in his eyes. And then the check comes. And he’s “let’s split it.” and I’m like, “he’s NOT interested, but then again, maybe taking his time.” So I give him cash and he puts down his card and takes my cash. But when he’s figuring out the tip he figures out the cents so it’s exactly $40. I’d I sigh and think “he’s cheap”, but maybe just OCD about a rounded number. And we talk again about real estate and then he drops the F- bomb about his F-iance. And I’m like “oh SHIITE.” Of course. but then he’s trashing her to me about the bad driving and now he wants to dump the 1980 Manual BMW because not only is she a bad driver, but add to that manual and Manhattan and what a friggin’ bad mashup that’s goin’ be.
And I’m like “so when are you getting married?” and he’s like well, we just moved in together, so we wanted to see how that went…no date set yet.”
So, I figured that the way married/taken guys flirt is to somehow bash their GF/Wives to the OTHER woman–in a subtle but still not so nice way. At any rate. I didn’t find him. Or did I?
So after the last nasty comment…
I stopped posting. NOT. I have just been so busy in my new life as a C fucking EO that I haven’t had the time. But I am on a new DIET. Did I say diet? And I am posting my weight loss sojourn on a new blog– called: I Eat Too Much. But, instead of posting all over the place, I am REBLOGGING. Is there a term like that? So here it is: Day I: The Only Natural Food Diet. Oh, I am SOO motivated: And while you’re at it, check my newest site: ONLY NATURAL FOOD dot COM
Total Calories: 1,325 Carbs: 78g Fat: 47g Protein: 124 Oh yeah, plus one teaspoon (heaping) of Swiss Dark Fudge—50 Calories. I couldn’t resist.
Top ten lies you told you kids…top ten lies I tell mine
So, I found this list today on Parent Dish which was kind of funny:
1. I always paid attention in school.
2. There’s no such thing as a favorite child. All of you are my favorites.
3. Sorry, the playground is closed today.
4. Cuddles the Hamster went to live on a nice farm. Yes, the same one where your goldfish went.
5. I have Santa Claus’s cell phone number on speed dial. Do you want me to tell him how you’re acting?
6. Whoops, the KidzBop CD is in Dad’s car and he already left for work.
7. “SpongeBob” isn’t on this week. And the DVD player is broken. And the cable is out.
8. Of course I wore to work today the macaroni necklace and bracelet you made me.
9. Daddy is allergic to cats/dogs/birds/reptiles.
10. I never took drugs
And here’s mine:
1) I always listened to my parents, YES ALWAYS.
2) I never got drunk–are you kidding? (I still never do–well, maybe a buzz)
3) Of course my room was clean. ALWAYS.
4) I cleaned the bathroom including the toilet every other week. (Ooopps, that’s actually TRUE)
5) Yes, I FED AND WALKED THE DOG–every day, God Damn it.
6) I cleaned my room everyday.
7) I always helped my parents…without being asked. I JUST KNEW!
8) We didn’t have computers, VCR’s, DVD’s, ipods, cellphones, iphones, or MTV. And we WERE smarter. (Ooopps that’s true too)
9) I only had sex one time. When I was 29. With your father.
10) Of COURSE you were planned!
There ya have it folks. What are yours?