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So yesterday, Chad told me that I needed to make sure I answered the door because he was expecting a package that I would have to sign for. Well, that limits my day a little but I only had plans to lunch with a friend and those plans fell through so it was no big deal. Under orders from my doctor to “get as much sleep as possible” all I have been doing the last few days is just that and it has left me rather groggy.

The doorbell finally rang with the courier at 4:00 and it was a man standing there with roses and a teddy bear. I nearly fell over. He said “I am looking for Colleen.” Well, if knew my husband, you would know that he HATES to send cut flowers. He says that they are a waste of money because they are already dying and it makes no sense. The analytical side of me sees that point while the girly side of me says SHUT UP! smushy smushy! So of course, I looked at the courier and went squeeeee and took the flowers inside and released the little bear from captivity. THEN…I read the card because it was no special occasion that I remembered and I was starting to wonder if he had broken something. The card read:

I met you in the Fall of 1989. I was 18. That was 18 years ago. You have enchanted me for half my life. My better half.

I just have to say one thing to say after receiving something so beautiful. Nanner Fareakin Nanner!

*warning the following commentary contains satire, if you are unfamiliar with it or are an idiot please disregard this blog.

As an American, I believe that we have gone the wrong way in dealing with foreign relations. Being proud of our culture is one thing, but to be hateful to the people of France while doing it shows a disrespect to Europeans on a level that is just no longer politically correct. If you really stop to think about the names we give to these people, you will see what I mean. We do our best to be conscious of those that live here, but what of the Americans that live abroad? Aren’t they Americans too? Take the people of France, for example. We have been calling them “French” for so long. Wouldn’t you be offended if someone called you French? All this time, we have had the answer right here under our noses. It is on every can of Spaghetti-Os and we couldn’t see it because we were just too racist or too proud. They want to be called Franco-Americans. That is their dream, people. So next time you go to McDonalds, proudly order your Franco-American fries and super size them! Do it for your country. Do it for ALL European-Americans. Remember, just because someone wasn’t born here or doesn’t live here, doesn’t make them any less an American and underneath it all, our veins are blue and our blood cells are either red or white!

OK, I am on a diet plateau. I have done pretty well so far. Between me and Chad, we have lost a supermodel or a ballerina. I am getting impatient now though. I need to kick up the exercise. I have been doing the floor work (pilates-ville), but I am gonna need some cardio. After sitting with my tri-athlete friends at lunch yesterday and hearing about a 4 hour workout of swimming and biking, I decided that a daily dance jog really won’t kill me and it might be kind of silly and fun. Besides, I know the parrots will like to bob their heads along.

I dropped three pounds in 24 hours. How did THAT happen? It wasn’t all this Wii exercise.

I need a pianist for the lounge act of my dreams. If you can play the tunes, we can get the gigs. Are you my ivory tickler?

If I stay on my diet, by next Halloween I will be merely chubby. Ah, to be that cute, chubby girl again. It is a mere 35 pounds away. It is quite shocking actually, when I think of how much I have already lost. I have found some of the best ways to make frozen dinners better too. You can make a diet Kashi meal 400% better and only add 40 calories by adding chopped sun-dried tomatoes! I am talking a WORLD of difference here. The Kashi meals are only about 300 calories as they are anyway and fairly decent, but they need a little kick. H.E.B. has a whole section of organic, dried fruits and veggies that are low cal. and my new best friends. Now, how I am going to survive Disneyworld without gaining weight, I am not sure. However, I know that you average about 8 miles a day there so I am sure I will be burning more than I take in.

I finally sat down and watched the film and first off, Obi Wan looked pretty hot in it. A little less hot but more poised in this film than he does as Ewan McGregor. Maybe it is because when Alec Guinness is playing Ewan McGregor playing Obi Wan he is having to play it as an Englishman playing a Scotsman playing an Englishman. That has to be difficult, especially with a last name like Guinness.

Anyway, the film really is as good as people make it out to be. It does leave you wondering what the hell happened to Zhivago’s wife/son/dad after they were exported back to Paris. I like to think that she became a famous clothing designer and had a torrid affair with a very buff man who could please her in ways Yuri never could. As a result, Sasha (the son) grows up to be a male runway model and shakes it until he breaks it. The father dies of old age after having all the french tobacco he can smoke.

I do kind of have a couple of questions. I think I am supposed to believe that Lara was raped by Komarovsky (Rod Steiger), but that had to be the wimpiest rape scene I have ever seen. I saw the seduction cause them was some purdy dresses and he might have been a big guy, but a knee to the nuts is a knee to the nuts. So, what was up with the limp hand and sigh…talk to me people. Anyway, jerky for sure, especially after being called a slut. But rape? I dunno. I suppose the Colleen jury is still out on how sympathetic I feel for Lara. I mean she schtooped a sleeze for nice dresses…ok I can understand that, but on the other hand – she schtooped a married guy behind the wifes back…

For that matter…Zhivago just blatantly lived that “love the one you’re with” lifestyle in the middle of a civil war until his heart gave out. I have to say if we all could do this, we would have a great freaking world. Unfortunately, it goes against basic human emotions to be this evolved. Now I am going to have to read the novel, because it was not completed until the mid 50’s and I wonder if it has that underlying 60’s free love feel to it.

One more thing, every man should master the Omar Sharif stare. Look into your woman’s eyes like Omar. I mean the guy is not all that good looking to me, but can he give you a look, ohhhh yeah.

Oh how to tell the MSU alumni association that I have no intention of giving money to sponsor football? Oh I know, NO! I received a call today asking me if I would like to be a sponsor of the fighting mustangs football team. I informed the poor student victim that when I joined the university, I did it because they did NOT have a football team at the time so I knew more money would be spent on academics and fine arts. Therefore, I had no intention of supporting a team that took money from the departments that I cared about and frankly did nothing for the school.

This year, however, I did send a girl to MSU for voice to study under Dr. Maxwell who to my surprise is still teaching there. I hope she is doing well and learns the foundation of the Psyche and Soma system.

I adored New York. I walked so much. I ate so much. I did so much. I must announce that if you are going to go to New York, Clell Tickle is the ultimate tour guide. He is a realtor and an actor so not only does he know all kinds of trivia about the city, but he knows where loads of things were filmed. I lucked out so hard that he was not working and had time to show me all over town. I don’t think that I could thank him enough for everything. He showed me little treats all over the city. I had oysters for the first time at the Oyster Bar in Grand Central Station, I saw the ferris wheel inside ToysRUs, I walked on the big piano in FAO Schwartz, I stood in awe at the Twin Tower memorial, I ate pizza and cannolis in Little Italy, I bought fake designer sunglasses in Chinatown, I saw a show impromptu off broadway show that was fabulous by seeing a sign in Soho on a wall. Clell really knows how to show a gal a good time. I tell you, ladies Clell is a keeper.

I also saw one of my dearest friends Dave when I was out there. He and his wife, Rifat live in New Jersey with their darling son Benjamin. Ben is way too cute for words and Dave is doing quite well for himself. I was more than delighted to see them all as it has been several years. They will always have a place in my heart.

So in one little trip, I went to Hoboken, Ridgewood and some other parts of NJ and all of NY and I saw 2 shows. One called “At Least It’s Pink” which was quite hilarious and the broadway hit “Avenue Q” which was in no way short of phenomenal. It is the show with the puppets which explains my attraction.

*Gits out her shotgun and stands in front of the Texas flag as rousing music plays*

The great state of Texas was built on iron and grit. This sovereign nation within itself is an institution of pride and freedom. The ancestors that blazed a trail to Texas were hearty folk with steel backbones and true hearts. They were not the bookish, quiet types that would sit in libraries and build legislation. No. They were gun totin’ wild men with fire in their hearts and hot blood in their veins. You can’t expect the descendants of such strong willed folk to think before we act. Native Texans are doers and we are proud to be so. And, unless you live in the panhandle, Texans are not used to anything white coming from the sky.

When the first ice pellets hit my window, I knew we were being attacked. I got my Colt 45 and ran outside. I was shocked. Cold things were flying at me from all over. I began to buck and scream! “Holy Jeezers! It must be the terrerists!”, I screamed at my husband who began to calm me down. As a person who travels for business, my husband has seen this kind of weather before and reassured me as to what was happening. I had help. Other Texans were not so lucky…*sniff*