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when you have called on the world wide web gods and goddesses
(no, i don't really believe in gods and godesses, it is just funny)
before 8am
just to check out pictures and the birthdate of your celebrity twin
because you are only 99% sure that
your mom didn't actually have twins
and give the other one away to an aunt or a nice co-worker
well, you know it is a good thing today is friday!

what are YOU doing this weekend for fun?
(i'll be busy printing out new pics of maggie g. and hanging them on my wall. just kidding.)

*** here i am ***

just starting to see a little light at the end of the tunnel
life has been a little bit nuts
and still is
but we are getting there

("gosh", you might ask youself, if you use the word "gosh" . . .
"gosh, what is she talking about?
life?
projects?
matters of the heart
or just the daily grind?
why is she so cryptic?"

my response . . .
"YES."

does that help?)


take care.
more soon.

the things that amuse my husband never cease to amaze me!

all you need to know . . .

is that as i sat toward the front of the movie theatre
and craned my head back
i saw plenty of light reflecting
off of the metal emblems centered on the foreheads
of children, tweens, and teenagers alike

me: "are those people wearing headbands?"
herb: "yes. yes they are."

i kept my hand secured on herb's forearm most of the evening
to ensure that i didn't laugh outloud.
instead, i just dug my fingers into his flesh.

you also need to know that people were cheering throughout this film
we waited for the prompts of our seatmates
(who, impressively, did not take us up on our offer to sit behind them!)
before hooting or hollering.

my 15 year old friend was sweet and funny
her companion
(whom i was brashly informed "is NOT my boyfriend")
was equally sweet, funny, and charming.
and he shared his mozeralla cheese sticks with me at Red Robin.

on the way home, i told herb
"i don't know how B wouldn't like him.
i am a grown, married woman,
and i had a crush on him within 10 minutes!"

that's not weird, is it?

weird would have been if i had worn the ninja costume.
i didn't.

love is . . .

going to a movie that you would never watch on your own
nope
not in a million years
but you go
you always go
you've seen king kong
and the hulk
and ghost rider

and now she wants to see naruto
you don't care about this film
but you will go see it
and your husband will go with you
because there is a 15 year old girl
that you really love
and she really loves japanimation
and her mom won't let her
go see a movie with a boy
without an adult

so here we go
the chosen ones
wednesday night
double date with a pair of 15-year-olds
to a japanimation film

this is love

Counting Down

five days.
and counting.
until the Lazy River . . . (also known as Pirate's Cove)
is opened for another summer of fun!

there are certain things that
i will always think make funny
joke content.
random things.
like pants.
pants jokes will get me
every time.

the other thing that i like to tease
herb about it building a moat around the house.
with a bridge
and crocidiles.

what he doesn't realize
or at least pretends to be oblivious of
is that i SAY moat but what i REALLY mean is
"what would you do if you came home and there was a LAZY RIVER around the house?!?!"
you see, i would call it a moat . . .
because i know it is just quirky and funny enough that herb could get into it
and it would technically be a moat
really it would

minus the crocodiles and henchmen
and add a waterfall streaming down from the bridge.

same thing.

Three Thoughts and a Recipe

three things struck me at the pool today:

1. i am really pleased that the young co-ed behind the counter at the DU rec center took the initiative to organize all of the lost ID cards and made a note in each of the delinquent card-holder's files.
it saved me $10.
i assured him that it was that kind of "go get 'em" attitude and "can do" spirit that will secure him a job and many promotions. i left out the part that first he has to figure out what he wants to do with his life and that that can take years. and once he becomes passionate about something, it actually gets worse, because then he has something to be disappointed about when he realizes how difficult it can be to find a real job.
i didn't want to burst his bubble, so for now i allowed him to bask in his ID card organizing skills.

2. at the end of my work out, i was able to pull myself out of the deep end of the pool without:
a) swimming over to the edge and using the ladder
b) hoisting myself face first onto the pool deck and bruising my thighs.

i actually grabbed onto the starting block, stood all the way up, and just stepped out.

it has been about a year since my doctor began treating me for chronic fatigue and fibromyalgia. i am very grateful that all of our hard work and time is beginning to pay off. (more on this later)

3. i love that there is a 50+ woman at my pool who swims (a full workout, not just playing around) in a string bikini.
swim cap.
goggles.
and a string bikini.
fabulous!

cellulite and jiggly tummy not withstanding, this woman struts her stuff! it makes me smile! may we all be so confidant and in love with ourselves and our bodies!
go go go!!!!

and now . . .

cara's chicken parmesan:
i don't use recipes . . . so here we go.

take two chicken breasts.
beat the crud out of them until very thin.
take two thin pieces of nice, dense bakery bread.
throw in the food processor to make coarse crumbs.
take two eggs whites and put them into a shallow bowl.
into another shallow bowl, place bread crumbs, a large handful or two of shredded parmesan cheese, a thumb-sized dollup of fresh basil (i like the wet kind in the tube), 2 garlic cloves.
learn how to spell dollup.
mix ingrediants together.

coat chicken . . . alternate between egg whites and bread/cheese mixture.
coat twice.

heat skillet with olive oil coating the bottom.
cook chicken until golden and cooked all the way through.

place on pan. top with tomato sauce from a jar and sliced fresh buffalo mozzarella.
place under broiler until bubbling.

enjoy

A Story in Pictures

sHow are you doing today?

Today at the Harjes Haus . . .

listening to a little bonnie raitt today . . . she always makes me smile and dance a sexy little dance!
go bonnie go!
it is a rainy day . . .
just perfect for testing out all of my . . . well, i don't even know what they are called.
gels and varnishes . . .

basically, i spent an hour or so just messing around, mixing different mediums into my paint to see what would happen.
i think the super cool, "i have funky colored hair and you don't" girl behind the counter at the art store must have thought i was nuts when i showed up at the counter with all of these mediums.
she was probably thinking, "amateur! you are buying four things that basically do the same thing" . . .
and i thought about making a cute comment so she would know that i am indeed NOT an amateur.
then i thought, "but i AM an amateur. that's okay."
i left her alone.

then i went to the pool last night after work and felt like an amateur again when the girl i was sharing a lane informed me that she needed to get into another lane because the older gentleman and i were going a bit too slow and she was getting ready to start her workout.
what?
seriously?
she had already been kicking our butts!
and she was just beginning her workout?
that was her warm-up?
after noticing that she was faster than her new lane partner . . .
who happened to be on the Master's Team . . .
i consoled myself by telling myself that she must be training for the Olympic trials.

well . . . she might be.

anyway, i realized that when i just DO something . . .
sometimes, ANYTHING . . .
i have fun . . . more fun . . . than if i just sat on the sidelines wishing i could paint or swim fast.

this week i have been having fun swimming slow and playing around with my paints.
so there you go.

herb and I went to counseling this morning.
things are really moving fast for us . . . finally in a good direction.
we are so thankful.
on the way home, I suggested we run by Target for a quick little peak at the fun new pretty stuff . . .
well, an hour later . . .
I found some books for my pal Noble Sing Nanda . . . a four year old who reads at a second grade level.
Noble recently went to the doctor's office for a check-up.
he had so many questions that the doctor just handed him her copy of Grey's Anatomy and told him to take it home to read with his mom and grandma!
I hope these will serve as some lighter reading for him on the side!

In other news:
We are picking out new cars, as the lease on my car ends in a few weeks. Hmmmmmm.


There is lots and lots of work for me to do at this week at "the office" (basically, wherever i choose to set up shop at any given moment becomes, "the office").


And, just in case you are curious . . . here is our new living room set up. We hosted a little party on Easter and moved some furniture around to different rooms in the house. This is what we came up with. We like it.


Bye!

ps - i am very proud of herb . . . and this project he did earlier this month!

Follow Through

. . . not one of my stronger suits.

Yesterday, I was laughing with my friend Allison about a conversation I had with Herb earlier that morning. I was running out the door to meet Allison for a walk (late, of course). The night before, I told Herb that I would make him breakfast the next morning. Come Tuesday, I woke up an hour late. So, with about 30 minutes before I am scheduled to meet Allison, I threw the sausage in the pan and hopped in the shower.

The sausage burned.

Without much explanation or attempt to redeem the lack of delievery, I threw my coat on and said good-bye to herb.
Regarding the lack of breakfast he said, "I feel like you never even intended to make me breakfast!"

Well, I giggled at this for a few reasons:

1. The burnt sausage on the stove serves as evidence to the contrary.
2. Lack of intention has rarely been an issue for me. No. I am a dreamer. And a promiser. It is the follow through that I often lack.

I told Allison that if Herb is going to pick on my character, I need for him to at least expose the accurate character flaw!

(Sidenote: Herb in no way requested that I make his breakfast. It was fully offered and inadequately delievered. And in response, after a moment of pouting, he was extremely gracious about it.)

All of this to say, I have been following through in some other areas . . .

For starters, I mentioned back in February that Herb and I decided to ditch Valentine's Day in exchange for a monthly day of intentional romance. Decided by us - not by Hallmark. A date. A suprise. Just something that says "I love you AND I took a few minutes to put something together to show you!"

So here we are.
April.
We are alternating months, so it is technically Herb's month, but I am playing catch-up from March because we were out of town quite a bit (plus I planned both of the romantic trips we took, so technically, I am in the clear, but I really wanted to do a simple, herb-style denver based date.)

The whole "romance a month" thing really started to fulfill MY needs. Herb doesn't need this as much. And his low romance requisit makes it tough to know how to pamper him sometimes. So after much pondering and prayer (no kidding), I finally figured out how to put together a date for my guy.

Thursday night, you will find me and Herb at Steve's Snappin Dogs . . . a hot dog stand on Colfax Ave . . . followed by the 8:15pm showing of "Blades of Glory".
Yes, that would be the new Will Farrell figure skating movie.

Mmmmmmm.
40-something comedians in lycra.
Nothing says I love you more than that!!!

I Was Trying to Pay Bills Online, and Oopsy-Daisy, I am Blogging Instead!

Apparently it is all the rage to google: "(your name) needs".
When I googled "Cara Needs", this is what I discovered!

1. CARA NEEDS YOUR HELP!
(if you would like to help, you could choose from many exciting opportunities such as cleaning my bathroom, making dinner, and figuring out how to get that janky smell out of my kitchen garbage can! after that, i have some client notes and filing to catch up on. then there is the . . . )

2. CARA NEEDS THESE PANTIES.
(well, i have always heard that you should wear clean underwear just in case you got into an accident and the paramedics have to cut you out of your clothes. the reality is, that ACTUALLY happened to herb a few years ago and i bet that since he knows how it feels to be stretched out, mostly-naked on university blvd., he would agree that i do indeed need these panties.)

3. FOR SERIOUS, CARA NEEDS SOME OF THAT PAPER YOU ARE HOLDING DOWN.
(well, if it is scrapbooking paper, sure - give it to me!)

4. CARA NEEDS CARERS (care-givers?) THAT CAN UNDERSTAND HER DIFFICULTIES AND PAST LOSSES.
(no, i am not quite to the stage of needing caregivers . . . and while i have difficulty focusing on paying bills instead of blogging, i don't think there is that much to be concerned about!)

5. CARA NEEDS VOLUNTEERS.
(see number 1)

Perplexing, Tri-ringular Flavour Circus

Just trying out new names for my blog . . .
not really.

This is an exerpt from the back label on the bottle of wine we had with dinner last night.

Herb was so amused by this that it comprises an entire blog entry over on his little slice of blogger-land today!

He's so funny.

That is really all I have to say today.

Herb is funny . . .

and i really really love him a lot.

I am amazed how much your affection and commitment to one person can grow.
what "they" say is true: I really do love him more now than i did when we got married.

so, that's cool.

Take Two

After a week or two of posting on his blog without banter, I think Herb realized that comments are most of the fun in blogging! SO, here we go . . . let's call this: herb tries blogging: take two.
Enjoy.

Oh! Be sure to check out the hilarious video on his "about page" (tell me more about this daytime in the night)!!!

Love Letters

Dear Austin, TX
It was so nice to meet you this weekend.
You are indeed, very weird.
But then again, so am I.
Thanks for all of the hospitality.
I especially enjoyed the perfect amount of humidity, the green grass, and the cool breezes through the window of the cottage we stayed in.
I also loved window shopping for hours in your quirky boutiques.
Oh - and I loved that the main street was packed with people for a vintage car show all weekend.
That was funny.

The truth? I feel like I can be honest with you, Austin . . .
I hear you get kind of steamy in the summer, so i am afraid you might be a little too hot to handle for a long term relationship.
but maybe we can have one or two long weekends together every year?

Love,
Cara

. . . And the Winners Are . . .

In these little bags, you will each find a pretty little pair of bobbles for your ears! ENJOY!

Sarah, if you could email me with your address, I will pop these in the mail to you! cara@herbandcara.com

Also, I simply must share this guy with you:


I passed by the larger (and much pricier) version of this little guy several times before breaking down and deciding i would be sad if i left the island without him! And though my view of him has changed just a little bit since herb called him Elvis and our innkeeper called him Richard Nixon, i still love him!

And in case you need proof that we were actually on this glorious vacation, here are a few pics of herb and i from the trip . . . (were you begining to think that i just downloaded a bunch of pics off of google images?)

Sorry, When I am About to Leave for Mexico, I Apparently Call Herb by Many Different Hispanic Names.

Well, yesterday's post was not actually meant to be a call for affirmation or a roll call of all of my blog readers (though that is not above me!) . . . i was actually going to write the story as a letter to Kelly just to make her laugh. Then I realized that Jennifer watches Grey's Anatomy and would also think it was funny. Then I realized, they might be the only ones left who read.
OKAY! So, now that Kelly and Jennifer DO read this blog, plus the two commentors and my friend Kaye who just emails me when she feels like leaving a comment, we have established that I have five readers!
Notice that Herberto is not on that list.

We are now at the four day mexico countdown. Arnesto has been mocking me for weeks now about my tendency to pack early . . . but i did't start until last night!

This is not the first of countdowns for me. When we were about a month out from our wedding, I made Jose a long paper chain and each day, he took down one link to find a sweet message from me . . . his mexican bride! Then there were the numbers (printed out on my parent's dot matrix printer) that hung in my locker the last 50 or so days of my senior year in high school.

But the truly funniest count down I ever did was in high school. I had a crush on a boy named John Stevens. Little heart breaker. Anyway, John and I were on the swim team together for years. This particular summer, I decided that I loved John. So i would ride my bike (or just walk) around the neighborhood trying to find where he was mowing lawns. Then i would sort of prance by as if i hadn't noticed that he was there. But looking extra sassy, no doubt (me, not him). Can you see how I made it 27 years without a "real boyfriend"???

The real treat was that he mowed our next door neighbor's lawn. I would take note of this and wander out to sit on the hammock in our yard when he was our mowing.

Fancy that.
Here I am. On my hammock.
Which just so happens to be hung across two trees . . .
one on our property and
one on the neighbor's.
Oops.
Do you have to mow the grass RIGHT where I am lounging?
Shame.

Huge shock - this didn't actually do much in the way of making John my boyfriend. So when the summer was coming to a hault, I began the "14 Day John Countdown". I cannot tell you a thing about it other than the fact that it was well documented in a properly labled journal. And while I did go on several dates with John, there was only friendship in the cards for us. Oh the entertainment I provided for my parents. Years and years.

I really should send them a bill.

Luckily by the time I met Jorge, I had outgrown the "oblivious hammock lounging" routine. I had graduated to much more mature, stelth-like techniques, like just boldly stopping by his house wearing nothing but running shorts and a sports bra (the kind that covers your tummy . . . come on, what do you take me for?!?!?), "on my way home from the park, because you know i live in the neighborhood now . . . yep. just four short blocks directly southeast of here. riiiiiight over there. would you like me to draw you a map, phillipe? i know how you love maps. i mean, um, well that is what i have heard. i have not set up web cams in your house or anything. i don't know that you sometimes read maps while taking a dump. But if I had set up web cams, that would not be a deal breaker would it? i mean, i know you like tech-y stuff. hey, eyes on me. don't look directly into that corner."

Smooooth.

And yet, lookie who is leaving in four days for mexico with their sexy latin (with subtle german undertones) lover?


(*** and this, ladies and gents is why i don't blog more than every 10 days! i just came over here to check my email . . . an hour ago! and here i am, still in my towel, blogging. dangit!)

No, It Isn't At All Like the Movies

Our friend Libby says that Herb and I are perfect for each other because we both have that "urban hipster" appearance . . . but it is a mere disguise for our down-home, mid-western sensibilities.

It's true. Herb single handedly led our block into a "barn raising" this week . . . he has been out in the ally for two weeks, chopping the 8 inches of ice with an ax. Eventually, the other men whose families share our ally began to come out and help him. By Sunday, we had four men out chopping . . . and I brought out a pitcher of water while another wife scurried inside to retrieve a plate of homemade cookies.

Despite my nose ring, my charming cynisism, and my tendancy to be a "christian cusser", at the end of the day, I like having my car door opened for me, baking cookies, and I look forward to being a (mostly) stay-at-home mom in a few years. And while I would love to be like my cooler friends who can say, "Valentine's Day is just a holiday made up by vendors to trick piss-poor husbands into spending way too much money on one contrived day to make up for their aloofness during the other 364 days of the year", I just am not that cool.

The thing is, my husband is not aloof. He is sweet, and kind, and funny, and home every night for dinner. He makes me laugh. He is faithful. He is a hard worker. He shovels the snow and makes me a smoothie any morning I am running late. He repeatedly plays my favorite dice game with me even though he has only ever won twice!

But I still enjoy the idea of being over-the-top romanced for no reason at all!

As it stands, Valentines's Day has been a bit of a sore subject in our house the past few years. I really love the idea. A day to be showered with romance and affection. Herb is not only disinterested . . . he is actually turned off and fairly disgusted by the whole thing. And I totally get that! But it makes the days leading up to February 1-4 a little tense around here.

After a few tears, some unkind words (on my part), and some last minute planning for this year, I think we finally negotiated it for next year in a way that will please us both. There will be some sort of reallocation of the 14th to another, non-commercial, non-publically celebrated day. And that is fine with me. See, it only took us three years of Valentine's to figure that one out!

Before we offically canceled Valentine's Day for the future, I did a little cupid-ing of my own . . . but because I do not care to look or feel like this:


I will in fact, NOT be wearing this tomorrow:


I guess I learned my lesson about buying into cliches.

To my credit (I hope), it did not look like this AT ALL in the pictures when I ordered it. It is not quite what I had in mind for accomplishing a romantic valentine's day look. In fact, I think my sister and I had some jammies for our Barbie Dolls that looked pretty similar to this. But, Herb did give me a good laugh by trying it on for me before I mail it right back to where it came from!!!!

In other Herb news, please note our casual breakfast conversation from today. While looking at the blisters on his hands from all of the shoveling and chopping of snow and ice this winter, the man said (with a straight face) . . . "It's a good thing I wasn't in prison back in the 1920's . . . I don't think my hands could have handled being on the Chain Gang. Or in France during the time of Bastille."
To which I replied: "I get the Chain Gang thing . . . but, France?"
Herb: "Oh, I am mostly basing that off of Les Miserables"

At this point, my ice chopping, snow shoveling, ugly pink liangere tutu wearing man began singing the first song from Les Miserables . . . complete with ax swinging sound effects.

Love is sweet. You just sometimes have to look for it in places other than roses and wine. In the end, I much prefer his silly humor and his faithfulness to me over a box of chocolates. It all just takes a little readjusting of the expectations!

So, sometime in the middle of April or October . . . you might find us unavailable . . . because we just might be off spelunking or taking a couples karate class . . . you know, to celebrate our Non-Valentine's Day!

Well, the guest room is complete. And later, I will post some pictures.

For now, let me share the joys of painting with a four year old . . . .

A few days ago, Herb asked if it was cool if he had a few friends over to join him in his man cave (IE: the basement on a sunny, beautiful Colorado afternoon) to watch the Wolverines play some football.

I said, "Sure".

We had a few "stop-by'ers", and one tried and true . . . our friend Russ came over with his two boys.
And stayed for five hours.

Nathan, or "Na-Na" as they call him, is two.
The NA in "Na-Na" is pronounced, nae.
Between the fact that he is two, and my theory that the entire second year of human development is just one big drunken acid trip, he is a very rambunctious boy.
Made of rubber.
Doesn't cry or whine.
Just throws himself across the room until he hits a hard surface.
His brother actually rolled over his head and he just laughed.
And is always ready to fight.
I think it is because he is twerked that they call him Na-Na.

Christopher is four.
The differences between two and four amaze me.
It is the difference between,
"I need a bobby (bottle)!!!!" and a consistent need to have your butt wiped by another human being

and

"Miss Cara, excuse me, but there is a bad guy behind you. I am just going to shoot him real quick."

After a few hours of watching the boys catapult themselves off of the couch and onto a pile of pillows and cushions, I decided to start working on the guest room.

Christopher could not have been more fascinated by this.

I pretty much felt like a celebrity.

"You're going to PAINT?!?!? NIIIIIICCCCEEE!"

Okay, first of all, I LOVE that these two little people say "dude", "nice", and "sweet". SO funny!

Second, you need to understand that Christopher has bright red hair, glasses, and yesterday - an eye patch!
I do not have words for the cuteness here.
And unfortunately, I am still learning to take decent pictures . . . plus, he kept posing with his gun, so I don't have any great photos to show you.

Christopher was convinced that helping me paint was the best way to spend the rest of the afternoon. I figured that the 20 minutes it would take me to set things up would be long enough to disinterest him and cause him to move on.

Not so.

He waited with baited breath, perched on the edge of the bed.
And sometimes standing over the unopened paint can, lunging, with the roller in hand.

Being that I might have some sort of inner-Montossori school teacher dwelling inside, I decided to let him help me. It is the same place inside that, several years ago, felt it was good idea to let the baby I nannied for feed himself . . . his mother finally asked me to stop, because, while it was "sweet to let him help", the squash and mashed pea stains were a little excessive.

Apparently convenience and cleanliness outweigh exploration and discovery.

But what do I know, I am not a mom.

Turns out, Christopher was actually quite good at painting.

And fun to paint with.

You can always count on a four year old to keep things real.
At one point, after switching places, Christopher said, "Thanks for trading, Miss Cara."
Well, you are so welcome Christopher.
Really, what a lovely thing to say.
Us grown-ups should try being sweet like that.

At one point, we heard the grown-up boys yelling at the game on TV. Christopher looked at me and said, "Miss Cara, don't you think my dad and Herb are CRAAAZZZY?!?!!?!?"

An hour later, they yelled again.

Chrisptopher, "Really, Cara, don't you think they are crazy?"

Maybe.

At one point, Christopher decided that it was a good idea to paint with the enormous rubber glove that he found in the painting box.

ME: "We are not going to paint with gloves on."
Christopher: "Yes. I can do it."
ME: "No, we are not going to paint with gloves on."
Christopher: "But I want to."

And then I had the gratification that parents who use "Parenting with Love and Logic" must feel all of the time! I can't believe this stuff works!
You give two choices.
Both of which you will be equally satisfied with if the child chooses.
Then they get to decide which one they will do.
In the end, they are happy because they think it is THEIR choice.

Suckers.

Too bad this doesn't work with bosses.
"You can either give me a year off, at double pay OR let me have an early retirement while continuing to pay me 75% of my salary."

So, I said, "You can wear the glove. That is fine. But you won't be painting. You can either wear the glove OR paint. It is your choice."

Christopher: "I am wearning the glove."

This lasted about three seconds, until he realized how boring glove-wearing alone can be.

Christopher: "No, I want to paint."

Glove off.
Reinstatement of free and effective child labor.

Score!

Eventually, after the first wall was painted, I realized that I no longer had the patience to have a four year old help. Not because he was not useful - we really should re-examine those child labor laws - but because with a four-year old comes a two-year old brother on an acid trip. Na-Na periodically decided to "help". This mostly comprised walking in the room, picking up something random and trying to dip it into paint.

SO, the guest room had to become a no-kids zone.

But later, when I was cleaning up in the laundry room, Christopher ran in, took one look at our space-age looking, front-load dryer as it spun a load of darks, and said, "NIIIICCCCEEE!!!! That's so cooool! I can SEE what the clothes are doing!"
And then, pointing to the washing machine (which was not running at the moment), "I wonder what THAT one does?"
"I wish I could be clothes, so I could spin around and around in there too!"

Christopher, I wish you could live at my house so I would have a constant flow of entertainment by a little person that actually says, "I wish I could be clothes . . . "

Seriously.

It makes you want to rent a four year old.

The other day I asked Kelly, "What do you think your signature shot is for wedding photography?" To this question, she replied, "I have been told that the couple kiss where the wedding party goes nuts is MY photo."
I do LOVE that picture from our wedding. Here is how I would narrate this picture . . .

Top Row (L to R): Sarah, Latonya, Mikki, Kelly, Megan, Craig, Russ, Dave, Libby
bottom Row (L to R): Amy, Cara, Herb, Matt, Andy, Jake

Sarah: "Oh my . . . now THAT is a kiss. Looks like they have done THAT once or twice before!"
Latonya: "AAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Dawg, you are going to LOVE sex!"
Mikki: "YEAH! You are going to love sex!"
Kelly: "Cara! You are in public!"
Megan: "Yeah! You are going to love sex!" (see a trend here with the married girls!:)
Craig: "I would rather not act silly, i need to have as many sexy poses as possible for my modeling portfolio!"
Russ: "But she is so innocent. You can't kiss her like that!"
Dave: "Look! I'm JUMPING high! I must have trampolines in my shoes!"
Libs: "Come here, Andy . . . it is going to be alright."
Amy: "Sis-ter!"
Cara: "Ahhhhhh!"
Herb: "MMMMMMMM!!!"
Matt: "Um, herb. Excuse me. Um, that's a girl your kissing. Herb?"
Andy: "That's my SISTER he's touching like that!"
Jake: "I will play along with just about everything. but i am not doing this. i will just smile."

SPAM-tastic!

Dear Richard, Adam, Simon, Henry, Hugh, Gilbert, Peter, Nicholas, Geoffrey, Ralph, John, Brody and Reginald:

Thank you for your personal concern for my well-being. I don't remember meeting any of you, but our encounter obviously made an impression on you! And you seem worried. Especially in the past 24 hours. I had not heard anything from you and then all of a sudden you have been thinking about me a lot. And emailing me. A LOT. You must be worried about me. But don't be. I am okay. Obviously, there are concerns floating about that I am having concerns in the bedroom. But I need to let you know that I am just fine. So while I am flattered that you would take the time out of your busy schedules to compose an email to somebody you hardly know, I feel your tools and resources might be useful elsewhere. As for me and my house, we are just fine.

Thank you.

Sincerely,
Cara

How Could I Forget?

Friday was my sister Amy's birthday! I adore my sister! She is wise, kind, and hilarious! And even though she has yet to forgive me for the Barbie Incident of 1989, she is by far one of the best people I have ever known! Here is to number 27, hot stuff!!!!
This is a picture of the card I made her. I also sent her a fabulous wool and felt bag (that almost didn't get packed into the box because it is so adorable), a tambourine, some Mexican Pumpkin candles, some bubbles that you blow out of a squeezey rubber fish, an ice pack in the shape of Mr. Bump (from a children's book we used to read), and some other goodies!