Home Sweet Home

In a few hours, Mike and I are headed to our attorney's office to close on our new townhouse.

Unfortunately, when we went for our walk-thru yesterday, they had already taken down the 'For Sale' sign, so we couldn't take a shot of it saying 'SOLD.'

For what it's worth, here it is. It'll be all ours in 30 years:

Moving day is Saturday, so packing continues in our condo. I think we're just about ready though.

If only we could get rid of the butterflies in our stomachs and enjoy the fact that buying this place makes us real estate moguls!

I Don't Even *Know* This Kid...

But I watch her every day... just to smile.

He's in for a Surprise

Last night, as I was taking a shower, I reached up to grab the shampoo. Hair soaking wet, dripping right into my face, I realized the bottle was empty. I put it back, reached up and grabbed a bottle my philosophy shampoo, body wash, and bubble bath - Strawberry Milkshake. I washed my hair, followed up with conditioner and finished my shower.

Later that night, as the hubby and I were drifting to sleep, I said: You know, you used up the shampoo and didn't refill the bottle. He said he meant to, but forgot. Then he asked if there was anything he could us in the morning. I told him he could use the Strawberry Milkshake stuff and drifted off to sleep.

This morning, I noticed he had left the still-empty bottle of shampoo in the shower, except he had squeezed every last drop out of it.

Then I went to put on deodorant (As an aside, I don't know when we started sharing deodorant, but we do). I noticed there were two drops of Mitchum gel left. I used it underneath my left arm. Frantically, I searched the hall closet for another Mitchum. Nothing. I grabbed a Secret and applied it underneath my right arm. Immediately, I noticed an aroma - pears.

Now, all I can do is smell myself - one side of me smells fresh, while the other side smells like pears.

It's going to be a long day.

But the greatest part is when he puts it on and realizes that it's pear. Take that, silly husband! It's punishment for leaving empty bottles in the bathroom (insert very, very evil laugh here).

What's Weirder Than Weird?

So, Lance Bass is gay. As if we didn't see that one coming. The greatest part of him being "also gay" is that he's dating Reichen! From the Amazing Race! They've both come such a long way; what a journey to find one another.

I remember Lance from his early days of N'Sync - Bye, Bye, Bye. And Reichen - I cheered for you when you won the million on the Race. But back then, you were dating Chip. Actually, I think the two of you were married. See? I pay attention. *I* remember.

But even stranger than this whole Lance/Reichen/Gay thing is a conversation I had with my ma-in-law yesterday. My sister-in-law is taking her to see Tom Jones in Atlantic City this weekend.

I don't know what's weirder: that my sis-in-law provides the casino with such business that it's comping her the tickets or that there's a chance - a very very very slim chance - that the Norton duo could potentially throw their panties on the stage.

I do hope they have fun watching Sir Tom and his crazy moves.

My Political Post

I normally don't 'do politics.'

But... today I have to make an exception...

Today is July 26th. It is the anniversary of that Commie's attacks on the Moncada Barracks. According to that Commie (no, he doesn't deserve his name mentioned on my blog), it is the anniversary of the beginning of La Revolucion. It's the day that Cuba began to lose itself to an ugly and diseased man.

I wasn't born in Cuba, but my parents were. They left Cuba as soon as they realized what was happening - and because of that, they were punished. For years, they lived alone En La Yuma, not knowing whether their loved ones in Cuba were living or dead. They missed weddings and seeing the births of their nieces and nephews.

They were robbed of the chance at saying goodbye to their own parents - my grandparents. And because I was their daughter, I was robbed of having aunts, uncles, cousins, and grandparents to share my life with. All I have are bits and pieces of stories - told to me by my father and mother, and then a few years ago, by my maternal grandfather, who was too old to remember much of anything.

This morning, my mother called me from her South Florida paradise: Good morrrrning, mi hija. How are joo? Felicidades - hoy es Santa Ana.

No mention of Cuba. Perhaps it's easier for her to not remember it.

Being my mother's daughter, I didn't mention it either: Gracias, Mami. Como estas? Y Papi? Mandale saludos. Te llamo por la noche.

We hung up.

But both of us knew: despite it being a day to celebrate todas las Anas, my grandmother and I included, it's also a very, very grim day.

To that Commie - I hope when you die, you rot in hell. Not only did you ruin a beautiful and magical paradise and its people, you stole my history from me. You stole the stories that I am supposed to tell my children. And not only did you do it to me, you did it to countless others. That is unforgivable.

To see what others are saying about today, check out Blog for Cuba and Babalu.

Late Night Conversation at the Norton's

Me: You know, I bring about 64% of the brains into this marriage.

Mike: And I bring most of the good looks? Is that what you're saying?

Me (after a long, thoughtful pause): You bring a lot of the strength. You're very, very strong.

Mike: Goodnight, Anna. Just go to sleep.

Tee hee hee. It's fun to be married.

Jersey Summers

Despite last week's heat wave, where temperatures were up to 100 degrees and felt even higher due to humidity and the heat index, Jersey isn't that bad a place to spend the summer.

Of course, once the heat breaks, there's those wonderful summer nights where it's in the 70s and you can sleep with the windows open (like we have for the past two nights).

There's the infamous Jersey Shore, which is popular for its boardwalks, funnel cakes, rides, and bars.

There's the PNC Arts Center, where you can enjoy live music under the stars.

But the best part of a Jersey summer is the produce. Seriously. The produce.

Last week, my ma-in-law drive to our house to help us pack for the big move. With her, she brought some boxes and crates. But the best thing she brought (beside herself - hey, I have to brown nose a little bit) was Jersey corn. Sweet, succulent Jersey corn. I cooked it the other night and it was... perfection.

She also brought radishes, peppers, and peaches. Magic!

We've Got Work to Do

With all our friends have such adorable kids, Mike and I have decided that we have a lot work to do. There's a lot of pressure to make a cute kid.

The latest kid (belonging to yet another friend):

Miss Olivia

Acquisitions and Mergers

Five years ago, I moved out of my parents' house in Miami to New Jersey for a job in the big NYC. With me, I brought only a truck's worth of stuff - clothes, a radio, a computer, some pillows, blankets, and some photographs.

In Jersey, I bought a bed, a dresser and a night table. Later, I bought a desk and some other 'necessities' - pots, pans, some cups and dishes, etc. Friends and family were generous enough to supply me with a dinette set, some chairs, and a stand for a tv. My aunt even gave me a used washing machine.

Slowly, but surely, my pile of 'possessions' began to grow.

Then I made my very first adult purchases - I bought a sleeper sofa, a refrigerator, and a TV. Holy crap, Marie! I was a grown-up.

A few years ago, my parents decided they were moving to their condo in Aventura, Florida. That meant they were selling their home in suburban Miami. After nearly twenty years of living in that house, my poor mom was going crazy with all the things she had 'acquired.' She donated a lot of stuff to Goodwill, the Salvation Army and the Veterans, and sold the house furnished.

But, there was still stuff in there from Annie's youth. Yearbooks, scrapbooks, CD's, and books adourned my old bedroom. And so, my dear dad called me and requested the hubby (then-fiance) and I drive down with a truck to get all my damn stuff out of there.

Result - we drove back to Jersey with a truckload of Annie's memories...

Last year before I got married, the then-fiance and I purchased our first piece of real estate - a two bedroom, two bathroom condominium in Northern New Jersey, just minutes from NYC. I moved in first, with my full-sized bed, desk, sleeper sofa, TV, books, pots and pans, clothes, etc. A few months later the future hubby moved in. He brought with him: a queen-sized bed, a recliner chair, more pots and pans, another desk, more clothes than I could ever acquire, a library (I kid you not) of books, and various other items that I try not to look at (a framed Homer Simpson comes to mind as I type this, as well as a framed Highlander movie poster).

We purchased furniture - a real bedroom set, a real dining room set, another chair to match our couch, and some coffee tables. Our purchase was becoming our home. A full home, but *our* full home.

Then my bridesmaids threw me a bridal shower. Another truckload of wedding gifts - an assortment of china, linens, and appliances were included.

A year and half later, we are settled and comfortable in our home. We have worked hard to make it our own, to decorate it tastefully, to keep it clean. And, of course, we've filled it with a compilation of our most valuable and treasured items, both from our single days and now, our married days.

Sometime next week, we will close on our new home. Obviously, this means we will be moving. August 5th, to be exact. Packing began last weekend. Already, we've made various trips to Goodwill to drop of items we rarely use. Already, we've thrown out items that are broken and tacky.

It doesn't even feel like we've made a dent.

And I only have two weeks to finish packing and move.

Holy crap.

Proceed With Caution

My very good friend has decided to join eHarmony. I have to say that I am really proud of her courage to do so. Already, she's been matched with about 30 men in her area and is in the communication stages with a few of them.

The older we get, the pickier we become.

The older we get, the more set in our ways we become.

Considering these two points, it's very brave to go ahead and 'put yourself out there' for the sake of finding a companion, partner, friend, lover, etc. Especially since in the world we live in today, people are extremely crazy. Especially online where you don't know what you're gonna get.

Then again, if you went to a bar and met someone, you still don't know what you're gonna get.

I hope she meets someone nice.

Hell, for $59.95 a month, she'd better meet someone nice.

Wednesday's List

1. The book nearest me: my Real simple “to do” book

2. Stretch our your left arm, what do you touch? my computer printer

3. Last thing watched on television? Rescue Me

4. Without looking, what time is it? 11:40

5. What is the actual time? 11:34, not bad

6. With the exception of the computer what can you hear? The XM radio – Mariah Carey is playing

7. When did you last step outside? about an hour ago, when I left Starbucks with an icecd latte

8. Before this survey what did you look at? my best friend’s blog

9. What are you wearing? a red blouse with black polka dots, black trousers, and black mules

10. Did you dream last night? I can’t remember. :(

11. When did you last laugh? This morning, during my 9am meeting

12. What is on the walls in the room? Nothing. It's all packed up.

13. Seen anything weird lately? Yes, some male friends were making really fruity drinks this weekend and drinking them as shots. They were embarrassingly ridiculous.

14. What do you think of this quiz? It’s a good Wednesday meme.

15. What is the last film you saw? Munich

16. Tell me something we don't know. I’m moving to my new house on August 5th!

17. If you could change one thing about the world, what would you do? I would make every location look and smell like the Hawaiian Islands.

18. Do you like to dance? Oh yeah – you can feel it, it’s electric! Boogie woogie woogie…

19. George Bush? Which one? Father or son?

20. Imagine your first child is a girl..... She’s probably as cute as I am. And named Lola. After the showgirl in Barry Manilow’s Copacabana.

21. Imagine your first child is a boy. I hope he pees all over his father. Ha!

22. Would you consider living abroad? Definitely

23. What would God say to you when you reach the pearly gates? “Oh boy, things are gonna change around here soon!”

We Are the Boys of Old Florida...

F-L-O-R-I-D-A.
Where the girls are the fairest
The boys are the squarest
Of any ol' state down our way, hey!
We are all strong for old Florida,
Down where the old Gators play.
In all kinds of weather
We'll all stick together
For F-L-O-R-I-D-A

Can you believe it? It's almost college football time.

Time is moving way too quickly...

Here's what they're saying about my beloved Gators:

Florida's fiercest rival may be its schedule. The Gators face Alabama, LSU and Auburn in consecutive weeks, and even their early-season "creampuffs" (Southern Mississippi and UCF) made bowl games last season.

If the Gators can come together and survive their schedule, they have a great chance to return to the SEC title game for the first time since 2000.

For the entire article, click here.

For more information on traditional Florida songs, click here.

It's the Heat

Conversation with my husband earlier today -

Hubby: I threw out my Taz shirt today.

Me: Which one? The one with long sleeves?

Hubby: No, the t-shirt. The Taz was fading away.

Me: Why would you do a thing like that? You love Taz!

Hubby: Because you always tell me that I don't throw anything away and that I have more clothing than you do.

Me: I do?

Hubby: Yes. Everyday, Anna, everyday.

Me: Really?

Hubby: *sigh*

Let's blame my forgettfulness on the 100 degree weather.

Or better yet, on the fact that I'm losing it since I did not allow myself to eat that funnel cake on the boardwalk last weekend.

Serious

Yesterday, she was a bucket of lemons.

"Yes? May I help you? I'm busy playing with my legs."

Today, she's serious.

Priceless

Isn't she awesome? She belongs to friends of ours.

"Cruel fate, why do you mock me?"

I love this kid!

Pollito... Chicken...

The other day, the hubby and I were telling eachother stories and I suddenly remembered my first pet - when I was a little girl, I had a pet chicken.

When my husband didn't believe me, I called my mother who retold the story of my chicken. Unfortunately, she couldn't remember it's name, but she told me that it was given to me when I was a little girl and we raised it in our basement apartment.

Once, it ran away and I cried for days. But soon, it was found, and I was happy again.

Me at age 2, when I had a pet chicken

Some time later, I'm told, my father took my baby chicken, who had grown into a full sized chicken, killed it, and cooked it.

Thirty years later, my mother tells me I ate my pet chicken.

Good thing I can't remember what I named it, or I would need therapy.

Ashamed

Last night, as I was driving home from work, listening to the radio, a song came on the radio.

Immediately, I knew who it was, but something stopped me from turning the dial. The song... it was so... catchy. It reminded me of summertime. I got home, and googled it.

A Public Affair.

It's official - I am a Jessica Simpson fan. Ugh.

As I type this, I taste my own vomit coming up. How could I like that hoochie?

Sweet Success

This weekend, the hubby and I went down the Jersey Shore to visit the ma-in-law. On Saturday, we took the obligatory ride to the boardwalk.

After being bullied into going into a fun house with my nephew, the hubby asked if I wanted an ice cream.

No, thanks, I replied.

Oh, I know, you're waiting to get a funnel cake, he said.

Nah, no funnel cake either. Too fattening, I said.

He looked at me like I was crazy. I probably am, considering the fact that I absolutely LOVE funnel cakes. But hell, I wasn't eating it. An entire funnel cake is worth a day's allotment of food. I'd rather eat 152 rice cakes instead.

Today, I'm thinking about how good it would have been. I've even considered driving down the shore to get one. But with the price of gas over $3.00 a gallon, I think I'll take a ride to the bookstore instead and buy Shopgirl by Steve Martin, which coincidentally, was a great movie.

Okay, enough with my ramble. The point is that I was face to face with my nemesis - the delicious and wonderful funnel cake - and I didn't cave. Less than 15 weeks to our trip to Hawaii and I am going to look awesome in my bathing suit, since I don't plan on bringing any other clothing.

Whoa!

Edie Falco was not nominated for an Emmy for her role as Carmela Soprano. What's up with that?

On the other hand, Grey's Anatomy (Patrick Dempsey... swoon) was. So that's a good thing, right?

Check out the list of nominees here.

Annie Asks Why

Everyday, I am intrigued by dozens of things and I wonder why they always have to happen on my watch.

My list of ponderings (with many more to be added, I'm sure):

• Why does the deli guy always take a break right before it's my turn in line?
• Why do we (the hubby and I) always encounter crazy people while standing in line at supermarkets, department stores, etc?
• Why do people pick their nose at red lights, while parked next to me?
• Why do people feel the need to speed light crazy when they are in the exit lane on the turnpike?
• Why does it always rain on Memorial Day, the 4th of July and Labor Day?
• Why is that the day after you dust and vacuum the house, it's dusty again? How does that happen?

Letter to My Husband

Dear Sweaty Husband,

A year ago today, in front of our families, friends, and God, I promised to be your wife through the good times and bad, the sickness and health, the entire twinkie.

Boy, am I glad I did.

The past year has been awesome - more fun than than any trip I've ever taken, more delicious than any funnel cake I've ever eaten, more entertaining than any Tom Jones show I've ever seen, and more exciting than my favorite Indiana Jones movie.

Thank you.

Being married to you has been the happiest time of my life. With you, I have found a best friend, lifelong companion, confidante, and punching bag - all rolled into one. And there's no one in this world that knows me better - my strengths, weaknesses, fears, and joys - than you do.

And if I had to do it again, I most definitely would. I'll take an entire year of dirty clothes, flatulence, cleaning up, and baseball watching - just because it's a year spent with you.

Thank God I played "hard to want" for all that time.

Happy anniversary - I love you!

Love,
Me