une nuit a paris.
sunday night, hunkiest and i stole away to paris for woody allen's latest.
luckily our favorite theatre happened to be showing said flick. a newport beach institution since 1938 when it premiered neighbor bette davis' 'jezebel', the lido regency is a walk back in time "when women smoked and chatted in the ladies room, while arranging their makeup." every single inch of the building, down to each tile, has been restored to its original 1930's look. typically the lido tries to show more independent, less blockbuster type films. a win, win.
seaside duds.
those before.
sugar sugar. red vines pour moi, peanut m & m's pour lui.
making out is better on the balcony.
and lemonade always tastes better pink.
movie was sweet. without mademoiselle paris as a co-star it would have fallen trés short.
monday happy to you m'loves.
happy weekend
kick those heels high m'loves.
let off some steam, love on each other, hug longer, relax those shoulders.
enjoy the view.
love,
katie
grilled cheese thursday
eye.
doll.
*let me be clear: i don't know much about miss wendi, and i really don't want to know. she's NONE of my business. and i don't trust anything i read anymore; which is exactly {and rightly so} why her husband is under investigation. what i do trust is my naked i. and her flying across the room to protect her family {whether i think he's good or bad} is awesome in my book.
give me a beat boys and free my soul....
i'm in the center part of summer's sandy, beach blown hair.
today i'm going to dance down the middle like it's my own, free for all katie runway.
cartwheels, peace signs, booty-shakers-all need apply.
let's drift away m'loves.
steal away to the cinema
a couple of hot, steamy sundays ago, hunkiest and i stole away to a cool, air-conditioned movie theater to see "tree of life".
a stunning, heartbreaking, brain-swirling film-i adored it. my husband did not.
strokes different, folks different. marriage.
we do love a great, dramatic {me}, days on debate though, especially when it involves a movie we have seen.
i think that's a sign of fabulous movie. yes?
here are a three other movies i'm eager to see before summer's end.
[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IShjmWYuHZ0][youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=p3FFj-r3UK0][youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IRpFKwJHQ7g&feature=relmfu]
i think hunkiest would like to hire "buck" for me sometimes.
"the devil's double" just looks sick scary. if 5% of it is actually true, that just makes it all the scarier.
and vera farmiga? so wonderful.
see you at the movies m'loves.
buenos dias mi amigos
i'm back.
boo.
from the lack of posting and tweeting it should have been apparent i was removed and relaxing.
just what the 4 different doctors ordered.
here's what bliss looks like to me:
a patio with an ocean {hidden in photo} and palm trees wishing you good morning and goodnight.
sand, sea and salty friends making breakfast's finest companions.
in the distance our cabana beds await for afternoon napping and silly.
mexican coffee and huevos rancheros compete with the pacific's baby's blues.
no need to leave the resort for tours in punta mita's exotic wilderness or journey out ziplining adventure. the walk to our room alone was a trek through iguana-ville and a jungle in stereo sound.
happy girl.
happy girl. hunky boy.
not retouched. {kills me, cause i look like shit}
lobby love.
just plain, old fashion love.
sad girl leaving the hotel.
so my twitch actually went away. we arrived home saturday night, and then next morning when i awoke twitchy was gone.
sunday consisted of an all day celebratory family dance party {beast included}
unfortunately waking up today, twitchy has returned.
oh well, at least i had a beautiful week.
monday happy to you m'loves.
weekend happy
this morning i spooned the entire can of my beast's breakfast into my coffee cup.
i can see how that can happen: she eats from a 2 quart, day-glo-pink, plastic bowl. i drink from a tiny, beige, retro looking cup that reads "breathe in, breathe out."
someone needs a vacation.
weekend happy m'loves.
joy is
a grilled cheese sandwich.
hide nap and seek.
finally scratching that itchy lust to wander.
popsicles.
[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pRUGvArWXLk]
this song over, and over, and over, and over again. and again.
dreamier live version with johnny depp here {oh! my! god!}
first bites.
laundry fresh.
dates with deliverance.
what's making you happy m'loves?
do you smell that?
i did not follow the caylee anthony trial.
from the little i had heard of the case it seemed pretty open and shut. but who am i to deem innocence and guilt?
haven't we all faced false accusations?
i have.
it's a hands triple-tied behind your back, cat hair in your eye, trapped in a door-less, vent-less dark room kind of feeling.
all you have is your teeth and your voice.
in these circumstances i choose my voice. an inside voice. sometimes one that only i can hear.
but it speaks the truth and it prefers singing lullabies of peaceful resolution and understanding, rather than spitting spite.
baring teeth, taking bites...those are someone else's strappy sandals.
i can't even kill the cricket under the nightstand.
and. i. HATE. crickets.
but back to yesterday's verdict, i'm a bit perplexed.
from the snippets i saw casey anthony confuses me.
when i lose my car keys i meltdown to epic proportions: alarms are sound, tears are publicly shed, sirens sound, streets are closed.
when casey anthony lost her precious baby caylee......she went dancing.
i am not a mother. the closest i've come to that kind of love are my beloved beasts.
just thinking of my girl lost, taken or harmed by someone and i suddenly understand the word bloodthirsty.
if such event actually were to horrifically occur the above, lullaby, serenading pacifist would not only grow teeth, she'd grow neck ripping fangs, eye gouging claws and all bets would be off.
....someone comes after my child and yes, you may have to lock me up.
something stinks in florida.
i plead guilty.
i admit to it.
i am guilty of glut.
yesterday i was a complete beast.
i did things to a thousand island jar, only the likes of coney island hot dog eaters have attempted.
hopefully my fellow partygoers don't remember my caramel corn grand finale.
i'm off to pay my penance.
{head hung in heavy shame}
weekend happy
see ya on the other side of sunday m'loves.
until then, the beast and i will be soaking in miss july's sunny delights.
and the world will live as one...
i see london, i see france,
i see moonbeams disco dance.
some hear sea and waves.
but for me, my friends, the seashells, spin tales and sagas on par with atwood and irving.
on any day a magazine moose becomes my afternoon confident.
how is he the only one so far who understands?
we later go for a bike ride in the andes.
each morning my lushy, warm backyard awakens like a wave unfurls:
piece by piece its heartbeat rouses and grows stronger; the beast and i make our rounds to our pals, the flowers, bugs and trees, offering them coffee and croissants.
my tub, my fortress in the forest of fairies, conceals me from the dragons and ogres wanted me to drink the local witch's kool-aid brew.
hidden and safe, i stop up leaks of doubt and floods of fear. my hoover dam is a conscience clear and an open heart.
beast by my side, petals lapping in rosy unison round the basin, candles flickering in time to the peaceful ballet of the nighttime nymphs who prepare the house for sleep.
fairy tales do come true.
my evening crew takes watch. keeping vigil over a bedtime that is all too often elusive and full of fret.
drowsy drunk on the night jasmine piping up through the bedroom window, my bumble bee brain begins to slow down.
i can hear the footsteps of mr. sandman. off to dreamland i go....let the true fantasies begin.
you may say i'm a dreamer....i hope someday you'll join me.
carry on my wayward soldier
you ever just know you're going to have one of those days?
those days where you just know you're going to find yourself face down in the bottom of a bag of kettle corn, licking the last remnants of salt, sugar and the wounds of the day.
the kind of the day where all you want to do is put your flannel lanz nightgown back on, hide under your laura ashley sheets, watch ally mcbeal reruns until you too, along with portia, courtney and calista, develop an eating disorder; and then afterward, get all "ironic" and emo with old alanis c.d's.
that kind of day?
tis the day i'm about to have. i can smell its prelude. but instead of black flying my chardonnay, i'm strapping on my boots, and facing this mutha head on. there will be no unisex bathroom in my future today.
tuesday happy m'loves.
scenes from a weekend
this weekend, summer officially started her sun-sprouting engine in california.
shoes came off, knees were bared, frolic ensued.
here's a glimpse of how it went down here.
friday date nights call for silk scarves and red lips.
hunkiest and i tried out the newest, local oyster bar.
red for him, sparkly with a fancy garnish for me.
unfortunately neither of us losers eat oysters, luckily we had other options.
fish and chips for him {he at his fish...i ate his "chips"} and copper river salmon for me!! the last of the season!
if you've never had copper river salmon, please try it next year. it's only available {fresh} four weeks a year. and YES, it is that good.
post seafood sweet.
i limit myself to toppings. and only the crap kind.
saturday we strolled the coast-lined streets of our azure-skied town.
sunday morning coffees and pastries with the beast.
sunday, bloody mary, sunday night.
we beckoned the naughty vamps to come out and play.
a fine finale to a grand weekend.
so far, summer's holding the promise of sun, sultry and romp.
ching ching!
monday happy to you m'loves.
*all photos: goodniteirene.wordpress.com
weekend happy
what a week m'loves?!
this morning i've officially cried "uncle buck".
i'm strapping on my skates, and grooving back into simpler times this weekend.
wanna join?
[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6CK-rQuLTGY&feature=player_embedded#at=10]
we can chrissy snow and jack tripper ourselves down to the regal beagle where hijinks and clowning are king, rifts and wires-crossed pack the punch of a pillow case and family feuds last the length of a blink.
well, that's where hunkiest and i will be.
{to be honest, that's where we like to live}
see you on the other side of sunday.
