Wednesday, September 30, 2009

My practical and perfect answer to 'The Necklace'

Absolutely EVERYONE who is ANYONE is all a-buzz with talk of this book entitled:

THE NECKLACE By Cheryl Jarvis

And on my recent get-away to the lovely Oregon Coast with friends old and new, I learned of this little gem of a tale and the journey of 13 women who invested in a $37,000, 15 carat diamond necklace (which of course they got on sale for $16,000 so it was a STEAL) and how it transformed them.

Now I'm all for sales. . . and getting together with fabulous women. . . not to mention owning luxury items that I really can't afford or don't really need.   So OF COURSE, I was intrigued by the story--and the idea of sharing with others and bonding--and TELLING all about it in a public setting.

That  gave me a crazy idea.  Here I was with 2 friends that I knew and 3 more that I had just met and we had shops galore at our finger tips--a beautiful sunny day at the beach--and all the time in the world. . . (well at least that afternoon)  soooooo. . . why not do a smaller, more economical version of our own?  

There were 6 of us all together--which meant we could wear 'the necklace' for TWO months out of the year, instead of just one. . .AND we didn't have to invest in something so expensive.  I mean, after all we could be really cheap practical and go in for just a buck a piece and get something for six dollars!   And truth be told--we didn't have to go for classy or even pretty.  We could really make a statement by finding the most hideous thing on the planet and clasping it around our neck and see where life took us.

So when I presented my BRILLIANT idea to the gals--it really didn't take much convincing.  They were all IN and ready to experiment.

The only rule I laid out for our little half-baked group was:

If it was a 'no, not on God's green earth' for one of us--it was an 'absolutely not' for all of us.  We either had to totally love it or completely hate it--but we all had to agree it was worth the purchase price. . . whatever that turned out to be.

We were fairly giddy with excitement as we began our shopping spree to find that ONE NECKLACE that would make a statement and that we could actually live with wearing for a month without needing a trip to the psychiatrist. 

After checking so many shops (and being kicked out of a couple) we finally found a shop with some promise:

The name of the shop was 'Rare Discovery' and we knew we were in for a real treat when we entered the door.  HOLY MOLY!  We found the perfect necklace too!

We dubbed it 'amoeba guy'. . . because. . . well. . . just look at that amoeba of a pendant hanging off it!

This little beaut only cost $129.00 so we each had to cough up $21.50 which was extremely affordable and nothing we would have to guiltily hide from our husbands later. . . We diplomatically figured out who would have to wear 'amoeba guy' first--and since 'Karen' was in the bathroom at the time--naturally we picked her to do the honors when she returned.

Upon leaving the store my new friend, (who I will call 'Karen') was approached by this really old lady.

Karen:  (to the rest of us)  I wonder what kind of experiences I will have wearing this thing?

Really old lady:  (coming up to Karen and looking with disgust at the necklace)  My God, what are you wearing?

Me:  Look!  You are already being worshiped!

Karen:  (all smiles)  You know, you're right. And I haven't gotten 3 feet from the store!

Rest of the gals:  AMAZING!

Really old lady:  You people are sick.

Now this is 'Karen'.

  She will be wearing this little gem through the month of October--then my friend 'Heidi' will tackle the beast in November--and then it will fall upon the neck of yours truly during the month of December. . . the rest of the gals will be fighting over it next year. . .

And oh YES INDEEDY!  I will be updating you of the amazing journey of this little guy--month by scintillating month--  (that is if any of these gals ever speak to me again)

It just goes to show you what six amazingly desperate, certifiably insane, devil-may-care, and willing to settle for the mediocre, women can do on a weekend binge. . .

Tuesday, September 29, 2009

Remember when it rained?

Well, if today is any indication for the great northwest (where I reside) the rainy season is upon us. . .

But I actually welcome the fall--and even the rain (to a certain degree, of course)

And when you have a brilliant artist like Josh Groban who can create and perform such a beautiful song about those little moisture droplets. . . then what's not to like?

This is just BEAUTIFUL! Bring on the RAIN!

Thursday, September 24, 2009

Um. . . before I go. . .

Well, I'm about to run away to the coast and 'play ' again for a long glorious weekend while the weather is still GORGEOUS.

Somebody has to live the fabulous life around here--and I'm willing to do my part. . .

So before I take off for frolic and fun I thought I would post something truly beautiful for your eyes to gaze upon while I am away. . .

Here is a rare clip of that hunk, Patrick Swayze dancing with his beautiful wife for the 1994 World Music Awards.  I just loved Patrick Swayze. . . and will miss his talent. . .

Wednesday, September 23, 2009

The wonderful world of Karma. . .

If a picture is worth a thousand words--then I don't think I need to expound much. . . suffice it to say with all the crapola going on in our country. . . the failing economy, the political fighting, the corruption and greed in both government and business, the uncertainty over health care and energy resources. . . .

Well. . . Karma is about to be unleashed and probably go on a feeding frenzy.

I'm not going to say I told you so--because, well, that would be gloating. . . and Karma has a way of finding the gloaters as well. . .

Just remember, a while back when I posted this gem on 'Global Warming'?  Many scientists and researchers in the field have now told the tale that due to sunspots and other SUN-RELATED phenomenon--we are going to be going through a period of 'global cooling' for the next few decades. 

So while America scrambles to pass bills so it can cash in on the taxes and revenues to be gleaned from implementing rules and regulations (like cap and trade) and punishing the peasants and businesses to death with penalties and collapsing the free market by creating a few dozen green jobs while thousands of jobs are lost and now  have to go OUTSIDE the U.S. in order to be able to survive. . . (Which by the way, is QUITE ironic, since most countries do not have the strict laws in place to keep the environment as clean as possible as we do---so since we are dumping thousands of jobs that we can no longer do HERE in this country. . . we'll just get some OTHER country to provide the labor and yucky environmental hazards and call it good!)

Those few of us that have some actual brain cells that WORK might just want to go grab a jacket or two for the winter--and have a bone and some kibble to throw at Karma when he comes round to collect his pound of flesh. . .

Tuesday, September 15, 2009

I smell a blog post coming. . . .

That's my new catchphrase. . . formed last week when I went 'help shopping' with a gal pal and her adult daughter to get a few items of decor for her home.

Do you have any idea what 'help shopping' is like?  It's when you are dragged along by a dear friend to every home decoration store on the planet and made to look down each and every isle and try to find THAT SIMPLY PERFECT THING that will go marvelously in that little nook off the family room next to the doodle cart by the fireplace mantle and just ahead of the stairwell. . .

After we found not one, but TWO perfect things! (One to go in the other place, just off the newel post near the harpsichord draperies by the porte-cochere)  That's when my dear friend noticed that I had not purchased anything and was giving me that 'come on, be a sport and spend a ridiculous amount of money on something really stupid that you simply do not even want' look.  So I grabbed a velveteen garden gnome from the bargain bin and we headed to the check out isle.

Now I must interject before I continue with this scintillating tale that one of the things my gal pal just HAD to have was not only scratched up--it had a piece that was completely broken off--but she wasn't worried a bit, as she had her dear daughter and I to negotiate a reduced price for this one of a kind item.  Our mission was to get a 'damaged price reduction' if you will.

So her daughter and I were waiting with anticipation to see how well we could negotiate the price down for this ruined distressed piece of crap art.

As the young salesman tried to ring up the ' perfect thing' her daughter piped right up:

Gal pal's daughter:  Hey, wait just a  minute.  Do you see how scratched up this is?  And this piece is completely broken off.  Don't we get a discount or something?

Young salesman:  Ummm. . . I can give you  a 10% discount.

Gal pal's daughter:  Are you kidding?  Did you see the sharp metal sticking out of the back?  Why I could cut myself just carrying it out of the store. . . come on--is that the best you can do?

Young salesman:  Uhhh. . . yeah it is.  But I can throw in a box of band aids with your 10% discount.

Gal pal's daughter:  Really?   Is there someone here who can do better? 

Young salesman:  Miss,  a 10%  discount is all we are allowed by law to give on slightly damaged items.

Gal pal's daughter:  But what about really damaged items, like this piece of junk I'm trying to buy?  I mean, just LOOK at it!

Young salesman:  Well. . . I'm really sorry, but I can't go any lower.

Gal pal's daughter (beginning to raise her voice):   Is there a manager or supervisor I can talk to?

Young salesman (looking very uncertain now):  Uhhh. . . yeah.  Do you want me to get her?

Gal pal's daughter:  Yes, please do.

I was really starting to be impressed with gal pal's daughter. . . when the  supervisor came into view.

Supervisor:  What's the problem?

Gal pal's daughter:  What's the problem?  Just look at this ridiculous wreck of home art.  A piece is broken off, the entire thing is scratched, and half the back is missing.  You are not going to be able to sell it, now that my blood has gotten on it for carting it up here. . .

Me (deciding to interject a bit of ' kiss-up' here, just in case)  We'd love to be able to take this off your hands.  We've got a soldering gun in the back of the car that we can slap this metal piece right back on with--and we'll use #5 sand paper to smooth out the scratches--and we'll go to the fabric store right across the street to replace the backing.  What's your best price you are willing to let this go for?

Supervisor:  Well, let me take it to another register and look it over and see what I can do.

Gal pal's daughter makes sure to hoist it over to her so she has to grab the sharpest corner with the exposed glass shards and we are giving each other knowing looks as the supervisor struggles to get it to the next cash register.

While we are waiting for the verdict to come in, some hussy behind us who looks just like Peg from 'Married With Children' starts placing her 50+ items on the counter which need to be individually wrapped SEVERAL times in paper to prevent breakage.

After waiting nearly a half hour for the big-haired tart in skin tight vinyl capri pants and stiletto heels to get her items rung up and packaged--AND for the  supervisor to make her final calculations and get back to us with the item--I was thinking we should just forget the whole thing.  But finally the supervisor  appears all smiles.

Supervisor:  I think I can give you 30%.  How does that sound?
Gal pal's daughter (rather skeptical):  Really?  30%?  What do we have to pay?

Supervisor:  No, I am GIVING you 30% of what the price was for this item and you just take it out of the store and never come back, OK?

Gal pal (who is all smiles and has managed to put on work gloves and protective goggles):  Deal!

She gingerly takes it out of the store. . . and her daughter and I congratulate ourselves on our wonderful negotiating skills.

As we watch the Peg look-alike try to untangle her 6 inch fingernails from all her shopping bags and heft them into her car, we all work feverishly to get that art contraption into our car trunk.

Then we high five each other, do a little dance and sing the 'Oh Yeah--We're Some Sick Shoppers' song.

That's when I looked up at the sky and took a deep breath and turned to my gal pal and her daughter.

Me:  I can just smell it. . .

Gal pal:  Smell what?  I didn't  do anything.

Me:  I can smell a blog post coming. . .