Mickey and the Triple D's

As predicted, I am really bad at meeting my ill conceived commitment for producing a blog entry a day. Why you ask? Here are the excuses at the ready:

I've been sick.

I've been in Miami.

I was kidnapped by the real housewives of somewhere.

I've been fielding nannies (I know. I said nanny. I'm totally one big ass yuppie now)

I'm getting ready to go back to work.

Yikes people! Real live grown up work. Luckily though, it's work from home. Couldn't have asked for a better situation. So many thanks to those involved. You don't even know how grateful I am!

Things I've neglected in the last couple of weeks - I would like to take a moment to acknowledge a special moment in our nation's history. I am so pleased that Misho and I were able to take in the specialness of this historic change of events together as mother and son. I know one day Misho will look at me and say: Mama, where were we when this happened? What was I feeling? What were we wearing? I made sure to capture this moment on film.

I'm talking about the unbelievable and unexpected return of Mickey Rourke to the Red Carpet of the Academy Awards.



M. Rourke was robbed. We were unable to see any of this year's nominated films but although I love love love Harvey Milk, and wouldn't mind having a martini with S. Penn, I so wanted to see the oracle that is M. Rourke give an AAwards acceptance speech. It might be Beverly Hills chihuahua movies for the big guy from here on out so there might not be another chance. I believe in you brother, but the industry is rough.

In other news, Daddy D and I made a quick trip to South Beach for some sun and sanity. It was the first Misho-free trip and all went well. We missed him fer sure, but we surely appreciated the opportunity to swear openly and drink adult like libations without guilt. The sun was also a pleasant addition.

My favorite thing about Miami - triple D mannequins.



Most store displays used these big busty plastic tools to sport their wares. For the love, from which developing country factory do they spit these babes out? It certainly reflects the clientele base so nothing innacurate about it. But we had to take a look at this one for a long time to make sure it wasn't breathing. Not a lot of difference between behind the glass and in front of the glass.

Overall, an awesome mini-break.