TAAA DAAA! The Binford

Because he's a sweetheart and he kinda got tricked into telling me how to post it, here is a very blurry shot of the partial Binford. The Monk helped me with the downloading; unfortunately he can't do dick with the pedicure. The Monk's powers can only go so far.

It's a Binford kinda day.....

A long time ago when I was still married and living in Dallas, I popped my big toenail off my right foot in an unfortunate furniture refinishing accident. While scraping the footboard, it slid toward me and because it was Texas, I didn't have shoes on; the bottom edge of the footboard caught my toenail and lifted it just like you'd open a trunk. It bled and I tried to hold it down with band aids but as it grew, it pushed itself right off my toe.

Now around this same time I had a friend named Steve Binford, who lost both is big toenails kickboxing as a kid. After the toenails were popped off a number of times they gave up and stopped growing back so he had what kinda looked like a belly button where the nail should have been. So in Steve's honor I named the big toe on my right foot "The Binford". After about 6 months it had replaced itself but I noticed that the nail didn't have as good a grip on my toe as it used to and figured somewhere along the line it would pop off again, since these things tend to happen to me. When the Roommate and I took a trip to New Orleans a few years ago I had an nasty hangover-induced run in with some rolling luggage, and wouldn't you know it, the damn thing jumped ship again, and once the nail grew back it had even less of a grip than before along with a nail as ugly as homemade soap. I've been paranoid about another toe episode ever since.

Well, as luck would have it I jammed it on something a few months back and since then the damaged part has grown out to the tip and I had noticed a greatly weakened toe nail. Saturday morning I woke up and it felt kind of funny, I guess a little more Binford than usual, so when I looked at it I saw that the extreme left third of the nail had split and fallen off. Or escaped, if you will. One would assume it was in the bed somewhere but despite extensive search and rescue, the toenail was not recovered for a proper burial, although the family (the other toes) have been notified.
Maybe Rufus found it----everyone say it together----ewwwwww!!!!!!!!!!!!!
The Monk asked if I should put a bandaid on it and I asked him "Why, so you don't have to look at it?". Unfortunately there is no way to make this thing look pretty and I'm going to have to suffer until it grows back. Or falls off completely. Thank god it's not going to be flipflop weather here until July.
And guess what!!! I took a picture of it---or where it used to be, anyway. I tried to post it this morning but had trouble downloading it from my camera. Too bad the picture didn't download as quickly as the toenail did. Make sure to check back later for the photo.

What is with you people???

I posted this picture on my Photo a Day site. To me no biggie, just M and D goofing around for the camera at the Space Room. Now on an average day I get anywhere from 12 to 30 hits on my photo (yeah, I suck) but this photo, at last count, got 222 hits! And it's not a "great" photo by any stretch of the imagination, but it has the one element that catches your eye---hot girl on girl action. Now this funny shot of the Roommate is funny and if you saw that as a thumbnail you'd think "What the fuck is going on there?" and I would assume you 'd click on it and find out. But no, it's a picture of a man stretching a rubber chicken with his teeth. Not interesting at all.

The Monk Arrives on the Scene

I need to introduce a new character in my blog world, and he is quite the character at that; he will be known here simply as "the Monk". He brought me flowers (one of which is pictured here) on our second date (and the first date lasted all weekend) and is funny, kind and extremely interesting.

He's a real sweetie and he's just now reading my blog for the first time so if you hear a high pitched scream, that's him running for the hills.
So, seeing a monk has tons of fun aspects to it, besides the obvious connection to the "big guy upstairs". There's the fun things you get to say like in response to.....
"Hey Suz, what did you do this weekend?"
"Fucked a monk. You?"

It takes a special person to go toe to toe with the Roommate, and the Monk is a worthy opponent; the Monk is quite funny and very quick with a witty reply. The other day when we were hanging out at a local tavern with some friends, the Monk left the table to make a call on my cell phone. The Roommate immediately started giving me the third degree, he's all "do you like him?", "does he like you?", etc etc and the Monk walks back to the table and says, in that very attractive Australian accent of his, "You should wait until I get farther away from the table before you start asking those questions----and yes, he does like her, a lot."
So unless I run this one off as quickly as all the others, I have a feeling you will be hearing more about him.

The Suz is impressed---and a bit smitten.

Compare and Contrast

Ok, I came across this photo that was taken of me way back in 1986 and was doctored a bit by the photographer to give it the wacky effect you see here. But still, it's me. I swear.

And this photo was taken last summer at a friend's wedding, and again, it's me.

I'm thinking I got a bit blessed in the gene department. Not bad for an old broad, huh?

Ok, I'll stop bragging now...........and go hit the Gerratol.

Transamerica

We may go see TransAmerica tonight, so I thought I'd post this shot.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, ROOMMATE!

Today is the Roommate's birthday and considering he's the rock star that he is, a bunch of us will be getting together to celebrate his Rock Starishness. Happy Birthday, ROOMMATE! I love you and so does the Rufus!

S goes to a ball game.

"S" in action

So, my friend S in Seattle called today to tell me how she spent her Sunday yesterday. She and a friend had decided to go to the Seahawks game and ended up buying scalped tickets from a guy in front of Qwest Field. Because the game didn’t start for several hours, S and her friend decided to get their groove on before the kick off so they headed to a bar close by. Now if you know S you know she knows all about "the drinking", and is quite good at it, to boot. There were shots and beers and she probably made out with a guy or two, knowing S, and I do know S---we’ve been friends since way back, when we both lived in Dallas. So anyway, S and her friend stumbled back to the stadium and presented their tickets to gain admission and were shocked to find that the tickets had already been scanned and therefore no good. Oh, the travesty! Oh, the disappointment! Oh, that asshole that ripped them off was going to get his come-uppence, but good. S and her friend were hell bent on a little Texas Justice. Imagine if you will two hot chicks, a bit on the stumbly-drunk side who manage to track down the bastard that ripped them off for $125 a piece and also manage to get their money back. Now our two lady friends still wanted to go to the game but didn’t want to take the chance of bunk tickets again, so they put on their thinking caps to come up with a real Lucy and Ethel plan. And Lucy and Ethel they did! They spotted a stadium employee pushing a medium sized dumpster out of the stadium gate and asked their would be savior if he’d be interested in smuggling them in for the tune of $100. Well, our hero, Fernando, was more than happy to watch two drunk-ass hot chicks climb in a dumpster and then have the perverted pleasure of dumping trash all over them and soiling a couple pair of $145 designer jeans. Fernando whisked the dumpster full of trash and trashy chicks back into the stadium, helped the ladies out of their chariot and was duly presented with his $100 reward. S and her friend had to spend part of the game in the “standing room only” area but managed to stumble upon our friends K and R and squeezed their garbage-smelling butts into their row. So what do you do when you wrangle an almost free pass to a NFL playoff game? You continue to drink! And that is what S and her friend did. She called me just before noon today to tell me this fabulous tale and now I’m telling you all. Enjoy, and pass the story around.

Because I am desperately trying to avoid work today.........

I shamelessly swiped this idea from Will; pass it on:

FOUR JOBS YOU'VE HAD IN YOUR LIFE
1. Bookstore Manager
2. Yearbook publisher's layout artist
3. Creative Director for a design company
4. Customer service for a telecom company (Great career path, that)

FOUR MOVIES YOU COULD WATCH OVER AND OVER
1. Citizen Kane
2. Fisher King
3. Pulp Fiction
4. Chicago

FOUR CITIES YOU'VE LIVED IN:
1. Dallas, Tx
2. Portland, OR
3. Shreveport, LA
4. Reading, PA

FOUR TV SHOWS YOU LOVE TO WATCH
1. Will & Grace (made the list even though I haven't seen a single episode this season---may possibly have jumped the shark)
2. Six Feet Under
3. Sopranos
4. Andy Griffith Show

FOUR PLACES YOU'VE BEEN ON VACATION:
1. Vancouver, BC
2. Prague
3. Cancun
4. NYC

FOUR WEBSITES YOU VISIT DAILY:
1. My credit union, to visit my lack of funds
2. PaD to post my photo a day
3. Work related/extremely boring telecom intranet bullshit
4. Fresh Pepper ( my thinly veiled, yet completely pathetic attempt to get listed on his links)

FOUR OF YOUR ALL-TIME FAVORITE RESTAURANTS:
1. Bernie's, a Southern Bistro, Portland OR
2. Cafe Maspero, New Orleans, LA (hope itÂ’s still there)
3. Acadia, Portland, OR
4. Cantina Lorado, McKinney, TX

FOUR OF YOUR FAVORITE FOODS:
1. fried chicken, #1 with a bullit
2. mashed potatoes
3. cheese
4. crusty bread (especially to dip in fondue)

FOUR SCHOOLS YOU'VE ATTENDED
1. Louisiana State University
2. Richland College
3. Commercial College
4. School of hard knocks

FOUR PLACES I'D RATHER BE RIGHT NOW:
1. Cancun
2. Key West
3. NYC
4. Anywhere but here at work, I'm not picky

IM conversation

ME: So, I have a date with a monk tonight.
Her: a monk?
Her: where did you meet a monk?
ME: Customer.
Her: you're dating your customers again
ME: Well, actually it's not a date but drinks with a customer, and he's not really a monk he just works with them. But still it's fun to say.
ME: "Date with a Monk" A new reality show on Fox.
Her: you should wear mink to see the monk
ME: Funny.
ME: T said he's attractive and funny and really smart. We've been exchanging funny e-mail all day.
ME: All day being 1 hour and 11 minutes, but you know.
Her: just you going?
ME: Yep..
Her: that IS a date
ME: We'll see.
ME: He said he had scary white hair, but T said it's attractive.
Her: flirting.. talking about how you look.. it's a date
Her: susan's dating a monk susan's dating amonk
Her: you should wear all brown
ME: They aren't that kind of monks, not like friars. They're Dali Lama kinda monks.

At this point I think we both got bored with the subject, as I'm sure you are now, too.

A little background info on Rufus, the Dog from HELL

Are you, gentle reader, aware that my dog Rufus is POSSESSED BY THE DEVIL HIMSELF?

The devil's watching you.......

When we first got the little angel he was the sweetest thing ever but then the realization that he did in fact rule the house dawned on him and he became a holy fucking terror. Chewing anything he could fit his choppers around, barking, jumping up on unsuspecting guests and becoming a general pain in the ass. The worst was his biting. He'd bite me when he didn't get his way so in an attempt to wrangle him in I started smacking him on the nose, just as a small correction. Well, that Rufus is a smart one and he figured out pretty damn quick that we were a HITTING HOUSEHOLD, not a biting one at all as he had incorreclty suspected from his limited exposure to only dogs before living with us. So that little ratbastard started hitting me with his paw when he didn't get his way or if I hit him. Can't you just hear his little doggie voice yelling "......but SHE hit me FIRST!" So the Roommate put his foot down and demanded that I send that cute little 18 lb ball of fur and fangs to DOGGIE BOOT CAMP. A full month of nothing but sleeping in a semi-outside kennel and intense training was bound to do him good. So after a month of carefree travel afar (Canada, Mexico, Prague and Key West) I returned to Camp Doggiebisket to pick up my darling pooch (now a good 22 lbs and long, skinny legs like his mommy's) with his newest accessory, a remote controlled shock collar.

shocking!

Works wonders when it's on him, only problem is he knows the pain is caused by a combination of a) collar actually on him, b) remote control in your hand and finally c) loud threatening-to-actually-USE-the-remote screaming. That was when he was 6 months old; he's a big boy now and has calmed down a bit at the advanced age of 2.5 years---don't get me wrong, he still chews money, matches, shoes and is an expert sock theaf, but he's easier to live with. Don't ask the Roommate, take my word for it. He's calmed down but now he's sneaker, actually. He keeps that wall-eye on my hand ever on alert that I'll reach for the remote.

wall-eye

What the hell............

Just because I'm in that kind of a mood..................another shot of RUFUS!

Movie Review: We got a winner!

Yesterday the Roommate and I decided to catch a movie, Breakfast of Pluto, so we headed downtown but unfortunately got a little distracted by the Aveda store ($50 worth of shampoo and conditioner simply HAD to come live with us); we ended up running a little behind for the 4:20 show. Once we got our tickets we were quite disappointed to find that there were not two seats together except on the far left hand end of the first row. The Roommate scanned the crowd and spotted an empty seat, then two women and then another empty seat on a row near the back. He asked the women if they would mind moving one seat either way so we could sit together and one of them replied "Someone's sitting there". The Roommate stifled the urge to say "That's not what I asked you" and decided to go to a different theater across town to catch that geisha movie. So we drove across town and park right in front of the theater, and as I stood in the rain---the Roommate sat in the nice dry car and read the movie's review. Evidently the ENTIRE review be cause I probably stood there for a good 6 or 7 minutes, at which point the Roommate decided the movie was pooh and we weren't going to see anything at all. So off to the video store I went because I had NO INTENSION of watching wretched broadcast television all night. And guess what.............the shelves were bare at the video store and I stood there like Mother Hubbard pondering the fate of a movieless evening. I did happen to pick up a movie called "Heights" starring Glenn Close and although I had never heard of it nor saw it released to theaters, the DVD jacket kindly informed me that Jeffrey Lions said it was the best movie of the year, so yes, I'll take it, thank you very much.

cutest dog in the world with the LONGEST eyelashes and that gumdrop nose


I got the movie home, we made some fondue and the Roommate, Rufus (the dog) and I settled onto the couch for some movie watching. The flick was pretty good, well acted and isn't that the chick who played the crazed nympho in "40 Year Old Virgin" when all of a sudden onto the screen of MY VERY OWN TV strolled none other than the DEMI GOD HIMSELF, Rufus Wainwright, all beautiful and poised and lisping all over the place.

Demi god, Rufus Wainwright

Caught completely by surprise, I pointed to the screen and yelled "RUFUS" at the top of my lungs. Rufus (the dog) jumped up, startled out of his nap and looked at me with his big brown monkey eyes and said "Fuck, mom, I'm right HERE, you don't have to yell and scare the shit outta me... Jesus" and wandered off to sleep in his nice, peaceful kennel. The Roommate just looked at me and said, "bonus, huh?". So Rufus (the demi god) had a bunch of lines and later on he showed up in another scene and had some more lines and even rolled his eyes at one point and at the very end of the movie his name with in the credits along with Glenn Close and all the other stars. He's a big movie star now as well, not just the most talented singer/songwriter of his generation. My boy's done good.

So check out the movie because the story was good, the acting was great and there's that extra special bonus Rufus thingie factor going for it as well. Two thumbs and one paw up, Rufus says check it out!

One more thing..............

I found this photo from the symphony benefit. Our friend Doug is to the far left. We LOVE Doug.

Photo Essay: Late Night Afterhours Fun

Friday night the Roommate and I went to a benefit for the Columbia Symphony and the evening was all about silent auctions, full symphony playing and opera singing, rich old people being snooty and free champagne. I'm sure you've figured our why we went----that's right, a dear friend is on the board of directors and asked us to attend..............and he just happened to mention the free champagne. So we spent the time between 7:30 and 11:30 eating as much cheese and downing countless glasses of champagne and watching old folks nodding of, basically having the "high society" evening we are undoubtedly accustomed to. Then we went home, changed out of our cocktail attire and called L and T and invited them to the house for beer (that they were of course asked to bring) and fun and games. So the drinking continued and we played darts and foosball and drank more beer and wine...............

..........when the silly hats and wigs and wig-with-a-hat came out................So there was some of that..................

.........................adding a little fake-giant-spider wrestling with a side of weird wig.............

.............followed by "Glamour Shots" modeling of the odd colored wig............. ....................followed by some rubber chicken torture on the way to get some grub......................

..............with a little "I can't believe we ate the whooooole greasy thing"...........

...........add a huge helping of anything and everything on the menu that's greasy or fried.........
................finishing the evening with a 6 am group photo taken by the "graveyard shift" waitress and by then the only thing left to do is call it an evening.

So that was Friday evening, and sadly that isn't an out-of-the-ordinary description of your average weekend night around the Roommate. Fun pretty much lives at our house.

Next weekend is the Roommate's birthday (I won't say which birthday as I do not want to die just yet) so there will surely be more fun to follow. Stay posted.

Realization Hell

I have come to realize that my career path (said with a straight face) has come to a dead end. And not only have I hit the glass ceiling at the pone/internet/network services company I have been with for 7 stupid years, but now I find out that the Roommate brings home almost as much on unemployment as I do slaving away babysitting largish internet and dialtone customers for 40+ hours a week. And although being unemployed is unpleasant and stressful, sitting at home for 8 hours of daytime TV and occasionally checking on job postings sounds a whole lot sweeter than being bitched at because the OC3 crossconnect at One Wilshire isn't fished or the directory listing isn't the way you wanted it, even though I ordered it exactly the way it was requested. I mean com'mon, I went to art school for this?

Oh, wait, I didn't go to art school for a career in telecom. My bad.

Dubious of the Losers

Recent conversation with a former coworker via instant messagner, subject being the pitfalls of online dating:

Her: hot dates this weekend?
Me: No, no dates, hot or otherwise.
Me: I'm thinking about giving up on men.
Her: okay, but we're only going to second base on our dates
Me: K
Me: That'll do me.
Her: and just so we're on the same page - that means nothing below the belt, right?
Me: I think it's above the sweater but not sure. I was never into baseball.
Me: God, you should see the losers on Match.com. Major LOSERS, but that's probably why they're meeting ladies via the internet instead of through their rugged good looks, superior conversational skills and sparkling personality.
Me: Speaks volumes on why I'm there. Low standards. Married twice, that'll lower them.
Her: my friend angel is on fastcupid
Me: How does she like that?
Her: she gets a lot of dates from there
Me: Is she in a younger age group than I?
Her: she's 34
Me: Ah
Me: Perhaps I should dump Match since I get the same losers time and again.
Her: yeah
Me: Funny how they don't get any more attractive with a second or third viewing and ever decreasing expectations on my part.
Her: funny ha ha or funny queer?
Me: Funny as in disappointing. I pay good money every month to buy me a heap of disappointment.
Her: its expensive?
Her: fast cupid is free
Me: Really? Ok, I'm signing up. Free disappointment is better than paid disappointment, any day. I paid 6 months in advance in November; wonder if I can get a refund. Their fault, they attract losers.
Me: I always figured you'd get more losers on the free services, but eh, I'm sure losers are everywhere. Willing to give it a whirl.
Her: i am asking where else she recommends
Me: I get old guys pictured in recliners made of the same fabric as their shirts, wanting to take me hunting.
Her: lol
Me: Seriously, if I'm going to date an old guy he better be handsome, rich and have a prescription for viagra.
Me: she said the old guys are everywhere
Me: I'm sure. A huge percent are probably married.
Her: bastards
Me: Evidently my profile says I like fat, bald, bespectacled, old guys who happen to actually be married.
Me: Oh, and ESPN junkies.
Her: have you gone on a date with one that you know has been married
Me: Nope.
Me: The dude from Seattle, I asked him repeatedly if he was and he always said no. He had such a weird schedule of when he's available and only contacted me via IM. Suspicious.
Her: yeah
Me: Or shall I say dubious.
Her: nice word
Her: moot* and dubious
Her: moot dubious
Her: dubious moot
Me: Words are fun!

* Yesterday's word of the day.

Another Reason I Need a New Job

The other day this note was posted on the bathroom stalls in the women's room here at work---why do the bathrooms hate us, and why are they so "in your face" about it, too. I need a new job---can they make it any more difficult for me to get out of bed in the morning? Hell, already I try to fool myself EACH AND EVERY WORK DAY MORNING with the "I don't feel very well today, I should stay home" excuse but luckily I rarely fall for it, but I digress. So, the building I work in is only seven years old and is situated in a relatively new area of Vantucky, so I'm surprised that there's a plumbing issue at all; had this been an ancient building in downtown Portland I would not have been surprised with this situation at all. But then again, they used to smuggle Chinese slaves through the sewers there, so I could be wrong. Anyway, as far as I know we've never needed Roto-Rooter here at this address before so I'm thinking someone is being a little overly alarmed by an isolated issue that we, the general "ladies" public, were not even made aware of (bathrooms were never closed for maintenance or anything). I'm a little surprised that the system can't handle the "traffic" (if you will) even considering the size of some of the women I work with. Did someone flush a sheep down there? And the nothing-but-paper-products part, what about the boom-boom? Was it a huge #2 left over from "Junk Food Friday", and therefore chocked full of preservatives and unnatural fillers? Com'mon, SAVE THE BIG STUFF FOR HOME, ladies. If they want us to pull a Miss Doxie they're going to have to supply us with Dixie Cups and a window overlooking a porch.

And it's signed "facilities"---as in "may I use the facilities". Cranky toilets.

I dream of Ruffie

Night before last I dreamt of Rufus Wainwright again. Only this time we just hung out, he wasn't a department store window dresser this time. This morning I woke up because I heard really loud music playing in the house, so loud the air filter machine in my room that drownds out most noises couldn't drowned it out. Once I woke up and really listened, I realized I the music was in a dream.

I think I did too much acid in the '80's.

Ring in the New Year with wedding bells!

How brave, to propose to your beloved just before midnight on New Year's Eve in front of all your friends. "Show off" you may think, but you'd be jumping to conclusions if you think that for one minute. Rob's probably one of the most genuine people I've met and you just can't help loving him and that contagious smile of his. Rob's just the kind of guy would answer the question "wanna go to Prague just for shits and grins" with "Fuck YEAH!". And that would have been appropriate for Kate to respond to his proposal. Kate's a sweetheart but doesn't but up with bullshit nor frets the small shit. Not high maintenance in the least bit. So as far as the "show off" comment, no, Rob just wanted his "family" there. Touching even to me and I'm bigtime jaded----married twice and two for two with the divorces as well. Congrats to both but who's gonna marry them? Rob's the official marring man in the group, the "man of the cloth", so to speak. So between these two love birds and FiremanMike and Sarah, gonna be a whole bunch of wedding pictures on this site.

Such nice couples! Congrats to all! Make sure you register at Neimans, Suz loves the gold card!

The Time We Invented Lingerie Croquet

Crap, it’s the fourth of the new year already and I haven’t posted yet. What’s worse, not a whole lot of funny stuff has happened this year---and that’s a bad sign. But anywho, I think I’ll revisit a fun time a couple of summers ago when the Roommate and I invented “Lingerie Croquet”.

One sunny Saturday morning in early September we were sitting on the patio (which now has a deck on top of it) wondering what to do. “Let’s go to the river” the Roommate said, quickly followed by “Do we have any tequila?” Any story that starts with “Do we have any tequila”---or any random sentence with the word “tequila” in it---isn’t going to turn out pretty. So, after a shot each we decided to see if any friends wanted to join us for a lovely dip in the Tequila River.

So we called Katie. She was running errands but would come over.

We called Rusty. He had worked the night before (graveyard shift tech at a local hospital) and was grumpy. He’d think about it.

We called Dana. She didn’t want to come over. Period. Because she was on her period.

So, we waited, which means we drank some more. Rusty called back and would come but had to do some laundry first and he had to work that night, anyway, so really he was a "maybe". We would wait and he’d be fine to work, we guaranteed him. Katie called back but was stuck in traffic (I know, on a SATURDAY?) but was on her way. Dana called back but still didn’t want to come over. So we drank some more and then the Roommate called Dana back again and told her she WAS IN FACT COMING OVER and hung up on her. She called back fuming but the Roommate informed her that her cell coverage must be bad and she lost the call, so come over. AND BRING BEER. And he hung up on her again. This went back and forth a few times until she was convinced she HAD TO come over and she was bringing a CASE of beer, too (remember, the Roommate is in sales). Then Rusty showed up and Katie called and was close, did we need anything? Beer---so Katie showed up with beer. Then Dana showed up with a case of beer and a bad attitude, but that was not to last long, as fate would intercede. And then the Roommate decided that it was kinda late and maybe we should just play croquet instead, which didn’t exactly go over well but what the heck, everyone was getting a little lit anyway.

So the Roommate stripped down to his boxers because the shorts were long and kind of hot. When I saw this I said, “Well if you’re wearing your underwear, so am I” and I ran into the house to get the cute little (which is the perfect word for it) matching bra and panties you see in the picture. Of course everyone wanted to wear undies, so I hurried in and got all the lingerie I could find, at one point even Rusty had on a camisole. I also brought out some fun hats and a couple of boas. Let the games……..begin!

So the playing of croquet and the drinking of anything that wasn’t nailed down ensued and after the trio of Katie, Rusty and Dana wandered into the front yard to greet the neighbor’s realtor and a lot of other stuff happened that I don’t remember because of the tequila fog, I decided to have a nap. When I woke up the sun was still out and the back yard was full of people playing croquet, the music was blaring, and Rusty had called in sick. We were having ourselves a regular house party.

The neighbors complained later that night but that didn’t deter us. There was drinking, there was hot tubing, there was all around good cheer……in OUR backyard anyway. And although we’ve tried to relive the initial festivities of the first Lingerie Croquet, we never were able to pull it off. Some things are just better left as a fond memory.

So keep this theme in mind for your next party, once your guests get over the initial shock of having to strip down to their skivvies, fun is sure to follow.

I wish it were summer already.