The Queen of Pin Attire

You know I would trade my left arm for a Madeleine Albright sighting. While my best friends in middle school worshiped N'sync (and their counterparts that they today deny like...Backstreet Boys) I was a FANATIC about Maddie. Hey to a 10 year old - the first female Secretary of State (and most powerful woman in the US) was pretty Bad Ass.

Well she has come out with yet another book - and thus adding another book signing to my to-do list - only this time it's a picture book. As part of her press junket duties - the author was invited to speak at the Newseum last month. I had a chance to interview her late last year, but you bet I was there - with a video camera this time. Despite SnowOMG!2010, 150 of her closest friends - and a few obnoxious media mates managed to pack into the studio. Did I mention I'm a little obsessed? Somethings you just don't outgrow.

Known for her elaborate broaches during her service, she put together a coffee table book called Read My Pins to capture her collection. Her pin attire often served more as subversive political commentary on the international playing field.

Donning a chocolate cashmere sweater during the interview, she appropriately had emblazoned on her lapel, a giant broach. In her 30 minute conversation she covered everything from her snake pin inspiration to how "irritating" she finds the press comments on decision maker's style.

The Results Still Rolling In

Checking my voice mail this morning - this was too funny not to share. This is my sister Carly calling to fact check from Hawaii where she is finishing up her last semester of college . Apparently the date April 1st meant nothing to her either.

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Dear April - You can't fool me

Beware: Funny Man Weaver At Large

Another winner from the legendary News Man Mark Weaver. I get this email from Mark titled Jen's secret life. My first thought is "there are two Jen Richers in DC?! We must meet!" So of course I get my google on - only to find this woman's no Jen...she's a Julie....and more importantly I am no Julie (look at those credentials!)  Something is very wrong here. How did Mark get this screen shot? - He's of a generation still working on the concept of cut-and-paste - he couldn't possibly have edited it himself.


So before I call and notify this organization (which happens to be in our building) that they may have some code on their website going haywire, I ask The Weave how he got this screen shot.

Grinning with self satisfaction, "I did it cuz that women is a dead ringer for you.  Don’t you see it?" he says. 


Well color me fooled.... you win Weave.


The Real Version

Insert Face Palm Here

Act Like a Lady, Think Like .......seriously?

Act Like a Lady, Think Like a Man: What Men Really Think About Love, Relationships, Intimacy, and Commitment by Steve Harvey


My rating: 3 of 5 stars
I love Steve Harvey but this book was written along the same lines as the He's just not that into book. It's 190 pages of "look lady - he's just not that into you - he's into him." If he cheats - it's on you. Either you're doing something wrong - like not putting your foot down - or it's nothing personal. 

Harrumph.

Steve - that's not a man - that's a boy. Let me sum this church bulletin into one line - ladies: don't settle for boys. Look for men. They're in high demand but if you stop dating the boys - maybe they'll try to be men. Fingers crossed - Mr. Harvey "da man" is on wife # 3 - I hope he learned something in the process. As for his "advice" I guess some women need to hear it - but I think the title should have read. Men: Act like a boy, pretend to be a man. Women - bring me my pie.

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Book Report: From Elephants to Legends

This is your double helping of book love. I have no idea where I dug up enough time to finish two books, but you won't here me complaining. (Sleep is overrated.)

The first read was our book club selection for February, Water For Elephants. I have to be honest nothing about this book's description interested me. Not a huge fiction fan for starts, but carnies creep me out, and as someone who would take the company of a dog over 90% of humanity, the last thing I want to read about is animal cruelty. (Insert inner Mommy Voice) But Jen, the whole reason for starting the book club was to read outside your narrow wonk-non-fiction-journo-genre.

I was pleasantly surprised. Kudos Sara Gruen! I couldn't put the sucker down. It's the story, set during the Depression, of a young Cornell Vet senior who loses his parents in a sudden accident. Penniless, he literally runs away to join the circus. Telling his story from the end of his life looking back, it speaks volumes about the aging process, which is a nice little emotional bonus. But aside from the thrilling and compelling plot line, the author spent years researching circus life from that period. If you omitted the main characters, this could easily be a case-study of a particular troop. She even starts each chapter with an actual photo from the 30s from various circus groups. Very cool. Attention Nerds: it's safe...we are welcome.

The second read, was also a book club selection from last fall, but I pulled 8 shades of cheating on this one.  I went to our discussion for Julie and Julia with nothing more than Amy Adams/ Maryl Streep's interpretation of the quack blogger and the tv foodie, and a whopping 30 pages under my belt. Here it is, March, and I am finally clearing that bad boy off the night stand.

Now, I love me a good blog-turned-book (the stream of conscience writers of today - take that J.D. Salinger) and you know I love me some food, but I found this little paperback to be highly overrated. You'll never hear me say this (so I'll write it - what a hypocrite!) but I liked the movie better than the book. Shut up - nuh uh. Gasp - go ahead it's safe - I won't judge.

I mean it was cute - don't get me wrong. An overworked, urban wife is fed up with her job so she decides to channel Julia Child and cook everything in her French bible in a year, while blogging about the adventure. I get it - it's cute. And as a chronic bitcher, I, garnered some serious support for her storytelling. But the best part of the read for me was the few pages she talks about her quirky friend Isabelle (who is a literary doppelganger of my friend Megs.) Now she is a character. Not that it was bad - or boring - but I felt like she could have wrapped the whole delicious lamenting up in about 200 pages.

Stay tuned next month - I'm hoping to knock off three more on our little cruise!

Pretty Bad Ass

Ever wonder what Dad was doing in the garage when he was supposed to be fixing Mom's car? Yeah will this is like 1 bajillion times cooler than that stupid fence post digger he invented. Sorry Dad.

All Clear in Hawaii

The predicted 12 foot Tsunami waves for Hawaii turned out to be a false alarm. Yes, Carly and puppy Jake, evacuated from her Hawaii Kai beach hut on Oahu, and yes, she returned home yesterday safely, with nothing more than a great story. Just got off the phone with her and all is well. Now, back to our regularly scheduled program.

Awkward Elevator Deja Vu

As host for a training workshop for our alumnae sorority chapter, I offered the conference room in our very delicious apartment building, last Saturday. Hey it was free and a super easy commute for me.

Jamming out of Chez Copa, carrying entirely too much for one trip - I grabbed my frothy java brimmed coffee mug too. Sloshing into the elevator, nice neighbor to the rescue, offers to help me carry the boxes. What a nice guy, I would have offered to carry the coffee. After a polite but much appreciative decline, he insists and next thing you know we're on our way to the conference room - coffee saved! (Listen you momma bears with love connection on the brain - you just cool your jets.)

On the trip down twelve floors, he stops me to ask where we know each other from, apparently I look familiar. Sure - often a common pick-up line in DC but his face was genuinely contorted as he scanned his Rolodex of Facebook pics in his head. Not surprised - I get it a lot - it's the round face and blue eyes - I look like everyone's cousin's best friend. Offering a couple possibilities, we still can't figure out where he knows me from. Note: I don't know this kid from Adam - not an ounce of recognition and I made no attempt to pretend otherwise.

Arriving at our destination I showered him with appreciation (more for saving the coffee than the heavy lifting. - SHOCKER) but he can't shake the deja-vu. Being that we're neighbors, I introduce myself as Jen.

Literally - my tongue rests on the 'n' and he finishes 'Richer?' As my eyes swell to the size of grapefruits, I hesitate, "how do you know me and I don't have a clue who you are?"

"We went out on a date about a year ago, and I never heard from you again."

F-M-L

My caffeine induced response, "Well I guess I can't hide from you now, neighbor."

Of course I will keep you kids posted but suffice it to say....way to go Richer.

When You Don't Have Tim The Toolman Taylor To Blame

Linds and I have been talking about putting shelves up in the living room FOREVER now. So while on an errand from my brother (he's in San Diego mind you) I ventured into the IKEA neighborhood and figured I would just pick up the shelves and get the ball rolling.

Well the shelves sat in the living room for three weeks - staring us down. I blinked first and decided to trap linds into helping me hang them. Studying for law school demands distractions, right?

Well after an hour of research on how to find a stud (not that kind ...this time) we went for it - screw drivers a-flailing and sure enough - we found a sturdy stud. Now the nature of these shelves requires you mount the first bracket - slide the shelf into the bracket, slide the other end bracket on, and then mount that bracket to the wall. (Ha this really sounds like a heaving-bossom-throbbing-member paperback intro). Regardless, Linds and I figured out the first step - bracket mounted - and after an hour of agonizing - finally go to slip the shelf in - and wouldn't you know it - the shelf was two wide.

While linds is howling - I try to make my case - "but IKEA put the shelves and the brackets next to each other in the display aisle." "Did you think to measure? You didn't even look at the boxes did you?," she presses through belly laughs. I try once more to pass the blame with no avail. "We effed this in a serious way," she tells me.

No matter - we now have a very prominent member hanging from our wall. I came home to this sticky note the other day: "At least it's good for something." Tom Villa's got NOTHING on us!

Starts With 'P' -- Ends with 'UPPY'

You hear it all the time...those women with a silly little clock ticking away demanding procreation. Well if the world of science can xerox sheep - there must be a cure - a tick-enectomy or sorts. Not seeing baby Jens in the forecast. But another ticking has taken hold of apartment 1202S. Puppy-mania.

Like any infection, it sneaks up slowly and is wickedly contagious. This is a perfect opportunity to blame the parents. What started out as a childhood with Labradors quickly became the Richer Home For Wayward Strays, and over the years abused and displaced mutts slowly infiltrated our purebred palace. And we loved them. From one-eared Spencer, Schizophrenic Sparky to Anti-social Runty (we never really got around to naming her). Leaving town? Landlord bans pups? Know a neighbor who shouldn't be allowed within miles of a dog, let alone own one? Call Beth (mom) ...if she waivers...mention it to the kids. Bam - puppy chow for 4 please.

In the early DC years a puppy fix was just a plane ride away, and summers were spent home with the pack. But after graduation, money was tight and visits were fewer.  Now like proud little mommies sporting baby bumps- everyone seemed to be adopting. Tommy has Chip, Carly has Jake, Megs has Darcy. Ugh and I can't stop thinking about the little fur balls

Linds ever the rational one reminds me that 1. our hotel-esque building won't allow the 4-legged friends 2. neither of us has time for all the responsibility and 3. dog hair in your dinner parties, walks regardless of windchill, and total destruction of furniture. All valid points. But the clock - or whatever it is - ticks. And the word puppy comes into EVERY conversation. Try it - how was your day linds...oh thats great...you know I was thinking it's time for us to get a puppy......we need to pick up more milk...and a puppy. Have you seen my keys? Oh the PUPPY must have hid them...right we don't have a puppy.

This of course facilitated by the latest read Marley and Me. (for me - not the rest of the world - my reading list is as current as Japan is to Blockbusters)

Ugh and yes - I knew the ending before I started. Even strangers in waiting rooms felt compelled to warn me. But just like adopting a dog- the unspoken but impending universal doom lurks. But the time you have leading up to that ending is priceless. So yes if that's all remember about that book is the end - sucks for you. The 200 pages leading up to the doggie funeral had me rolling on the floor - literally - in fits of laughter. Not because the writing was particularly funny - but because it was so spot on. He captured the world's worst dog -second only to every dog we ever fostered. It was like reading an account of my childhood.

But Marley had nothing on Hershey our chocolate lab. She chewed through power wires, and barbie dolls for breakfast. (So much that our Ken, Barbie's Marine Biologist husband had a "shark bite" accident in Barbie land) Jumping a 6' fence was hardly an obstacle and within weeks - she was a recognizable fugitive in the the neighborhood. Ironically, she took orders from a 4" Pomeranian and an even smaller dachshund mutt. Duncan, our yellow lab feels intensely that coffee should always be outside of your mug - and while nuzzling will give a quick nod to the bottom to facilitate the process. Damn - fooled again.

Macy - our black lab can turn knobs, open doors, rip tin foil and open cabinets - nothing is too difficult for a taste...or a full dish of people food. With the same ease she can take over a queen size bed with a mere stretch of the legs - finding myself on the floor in the morning.

Those dogs were part of the family and now I can't help but want to start my own here on the east coast. Shedding and all. Did I mention...I want a DOG!

Ain't That The Truth

Happy Friday Home Fries! Stay Tuned...Tomorrow is Chez Copa's first skiing lesson. I'm still not counting the "lesson" in Big Bear at age 8 as I spent most of it sitting on my skis or splayed out on the fake snow.