weekend 3-Way: I Will

Please join the 9/11 Tribute Movement by briefly  describing what you will do this year, a good deed, charitable  activity, or other plans, to honor the 9/11 victims, survivors and those  that rose in service in response to the attacks.

What will you do on 9/11 in Tribute?

Jacquie: I will revisit the images, stories, and memories of that day with my children and and I will try my best to inspire them to be intentional ambassadors of peace throughout their lives.

Ellie: I will celebrate a 2-year old's birthday, and bask in her innocence, and in the company of my friends. And I will think about my friend Scott.

Beth: I will marvel in the fact that an entire decade has passed, and that much healing has taken place, but also take a look backward to remember that morning, which changed the lives of all of us forever, some very much more than others.

Weekend 3 way: Saturday morning

It still feels like winter around here, but then I remember when it was really winter.



How many children do you think I've got in here?



Ah, the pool, on a crisp almost-spring morning

Well, here it is, the weekend. While Ellie ponders the New England winter, Jacquie settles into her Italian hotel (with whoever else was in that bag), and I head off to the pool. While there I plan to ponder the fact that although I may not be in Italy, at least I'm in no danger of seeing ice hanging down from my rooftop....

Weekend 3-way photo project

Awwwww, look. A sweet, innocent face.

Awwww, look! Two sweet girls enjoying a sweet, innocent moment.

Awww, hell. What are the odds that all three of them would be sweet and/or innocent?

Weekend 3-way: Marital Bliss

Mistah and I are going to a wedding today.

A wedding!

It's been years -- years -- since we've been invited to a wedding. We used to go to 18 million every year, then the invites died off. Which is really too bad, because we are fun wedding guests.
Weddings are fun. They're festive and positive and optimistic and downright fabulous.

Get a load of these two -- imagine going to this wedding on June 20, 1959:

I know. Their beauty is downright embarrassing. The only thing more embarrassing than that is this:

My sisters and I call this one Di and Dodie. A lot going on in that photo . . .

Sigh.

Anyway. Weddings. There are a million things to say about weddings. But let's narrow it down to one. One-ish.

Weddings. What do you love? What do you hate? Give us an anecdote from your own. And oh, how we love photos.

Ellie:
Well, I have a lot to say about weddings, mostly that I love to go to them, and that I love to have them.

I have a million photos from my wedding to good ol' Mistah, but I'm going with this one, the Fleur-de-lis one, the marching down the aisle with a giant-grin-on-my-face-one.

What I love about weddings is the promise of them, the leap-of-faith of them, the we're in-it-together of them. I also have a giant soft spot in my heart for wedding bands, and for open bars.

Oh! And you also may notice I'm wearing my mom's dress. There are so many things I love about that. The fact that I did not have to go shopping? Not the least of them.

Jacquie:

Hey! That's MY wedding dress! Yep, I wore it too. With short sleeves, the way God and nature intended.

I haven't been to a wedding in ages either. Know why, Ellie? Because we're old. And everyone's already married.

I love the dancing, no matter how cheesy or rotten the band or dj might be, I love to get out there on the dance flo'. At my wedding, I hardly missed a tune. Even when I had to take a potty break, I'd hear the next song being played and rush through my business to get my bootie back out there. My wedding was really fun. I think it was 40 or 50 hundred years ago.

here's where I'll put a photo if I can possibly manage it before 11 am on Saturday. If not, you'll get this awkward space holder and forever wonder about the fabulousness that might have been.

Beth
Weddings? Well I’ve had a couple, lol.

I too enjoy a good wedding. They are so very, very optimistic! Divorce rates just keep going up, but does that stop anyone? Maybe, but it doesn’t stop most people. It didn’t stop me.

I love the wedding gowns, I love the tuxes. I love the grooms men all throwing shots before the ceremony. I love the flowers and the campy hors d’oeuvres, and the toasts and the ever present photographer. I love the kids dressed up and fidgeting with their fancy duds. Like Jacquie I also love the music. Mostly anyway.

I also love the variety. I mean almost all weddings share the basic tenants, a ceremony followed by some sort of celebration that typically involves food and drink. But within these broad parameters, there is so much latitude. There are so many second (and third) weddings, and far-flung destination weddings (that I’m not invited to nearly enough), and family-only weddings these days, that you never know exactly what you’re going to get.

The last wedding I attended was my own, and there were only 4 of us, but the wedding before that? 400 plus. Both were beautiful. Because in the end? It’s all about the love.

And the open bar.

Weekend 3-way: best of the web

Obviously we're all fans of the Internet. Who's not, right? It's changed life in so many ways. It's now so easy to keep in touch, social network, research anything, and be entertained.

Most of us have our daily web routine: open up gmail, check for a new MY&E post, see if that handbag has gone on sale yet, etc.

We're all hooked, are we not?

I know I am.

What I'd like to know, though, is what is your very favorite website? The website that you think is just the bomb. Smart, funny, informative, or whatever....

There are SO many amazing websites out there, that I'd love to know what yours is so that I don't miss out.

Beth:
My newest favorite site is TED. Have you been there? I can't visit during work, because I can't tear myself away from the amazing speakers. From Elizabeth Gilbert on creativity to Ken Robinson on education to Elif Shafak on the politics of fiction.

Their motto is "ideas worth spreading," and it's true. Everybody should be hearing these talks, and the Internet makes it possible. Yay for everybody.

Jacquie:
Yay indeed, that's a very cool site. Thanks, Beth!

Yeah, I have a routine - or I had one anyway, before everything got all back assward and weird. I've just started revisiting my usual internet haunts in the last couple of days - it's hard to narrow it down to one favorite, but I'm going to go with two that never fail to make me laugh. No, three. Okay? Three:

1. Postcards from Yo Mama
2. Awkward Family Photos
3. Cakewrecks

You asked for one, and I gave you three, so I'm not even going to mention post secret. That would be rude.

Ellie:
You two are just so hip and cool and connected. Get it? Connected?

There is nothing quite like that moment of turning on the ol' laptop, is there? Those seconds before the homepage pops up -- you know you're about to be connected to the world and immersed in all its glories.

That said, I seem to be a much more utile internet user than my lovely co-bloggers. I check email, facebook and MY&E, read the 5 funny papers I follow (I guess they're officially called comics but funny papahs is much more fun to say), check baseball scores on espn.com and local stuff on theday.com. And then I invariably end up on Bank of America and/or the New London Public Library site.

I know: yawn.

All that's about to change, though. Right this very second. So if you'll excuse me, I've got some surfing to do . . .

[photo by Mistah, Oceanside CA]

weekend 3-way: bedmates

A few nights after Dad died, my sister Julie tearfully informed me that Mom was now sleeping on Dad’s side of the bed. How sweet, we thought. She misses him so much, and wants to be close to the place he so suddenly left vacant. I asked Mom a few days ago whether or not she was still sleeping in Dad’s spot, and she said: "Well, sort of... but I’ve got to tell you, he was a total bed hog." Turns out that for the past 51 years, my Dad had slept sort of diagonally across the middle of their double bed, leaving mom to a wee crack on the edge! It goes without saying that she would give anything to be back in that precarious position on the edge of a shared bed, but of course that is not possible, so Mom is reluctantly enjoying - under protest with the universe - the space to spread out a little bit while she sleeps.

In the next room, we’ve got these two knuckleheads

I feel sorry for their future spouses, because they are terrible bedmates. We’ve played musical beds around here for the last three weeks, the sleeping arrangements negotiated according to the number of people staying each night. I’ve had the misfortune pleasure of sharing a bed with each of my children on one bed/air mattress/sofa or another during this time, and have been head butted, kicked, pushed, poked, prodded, and awakened by soliloquies, shouts, giggles, and grunts.

So, my lovely co-bloggers, the question for this weekend’s 3-way is:

How do you sleep with your bedmate?

Keep it clean, kids.

Jacquie:

Aw, Bill. I miss him, I do. He’s not the world’s best bedmate, though. He does this thing where he jerks and twitches, mostly in that space between light and deep sleep, I think. Unfortunately, that time tends to correspond with the space between my own awake and asleep states, resulting in a terrible cycle of fits and starts before either of us can get ourselves to sleep. Bill will deny this entire phenomenon, and gets really irritated when I smack nudge him to please cease the twitching. But I love him, and I miss him, so I’m not even going to mention the grinding of teeth or snoring or blanket stealing. Don't get too comfortable on my side of the bed, honey!

Ellie:

Aw Jacquie. I love this. Poor ol' Mom, sleeping with a bedhog for 51 years.

My husband is a total bed hog, too. And noisy. I've actually written a song about all the noises Billy makes in various states of sleep and waking, but he'd kill me if I share it. (I do love to sing it, though; remind me to next time I see you.)

The only other person I've slept with lately is Jacquie, just the other night, during one of the musical beds nights at Mom's (sigh). Before we went to sleep I was extolling to her the virtues of my sleepedness -- I never writhe around, I stay in the same spot all night, I'm quiet and calm and take up less space in the bed than is actually physically possible.

What I forgot about, though, is this nagging, nasty sinus congestion I've had for a week or two. Here I was, all smug in the knowledge that Jacquie would finally have a good night's sleep without one of her kids kicking her. When we woke up, though, Jacquie said, "Dude! You snored all night!"

Maybe somebody should write a song about me.

Beth:

Sorry to be late to the party. I didn't get a good night's sleep. lol. My husband is a lovely man, but not easy to sleep with (I'm sensing a theme here). I, like Ellie, sleep in one, teeny, tiny spot all night long, way over on the edge of the bed. My edge of the bed.

My husband? Not so much. He does the same twitching as Bill, sometime for hours, or so it seems. We refer to it as the Jimmy leg, although I should probably set it to music -- good idea, Ellie! He also steals covers and insists on exposing our feet while we sleep, which I DO NOT like.

In addition, he insists on either high wind or AC, both of which I loath (except for those last two weeks in late August). Can't we just get a white noise machine, I plead? I'm so sick of having dry eyes and a sore throat...

I'm convinced that on some more advanced planet married people sleep in separate beds. It would no doubt account on their advancement. Good rest is everything. Well almost.

Weekend 3 way: pool party

There's no denying that summer is here. It's sunny. It's warm. It's July. Even here in San Diego the June gloom is behind us, and it's time to get outside and enjoy.

We've established here at MYE that we love this time of year, for the most part embrace the heat, and all love the beach, especially with a cooler full of coldies.

But one cannot live by beach alone.

Sometimes the craving for the unsandy loveliness of a pool is overwhelming. And sometimes there's no pool in sight. Or is there?

Let's hear your best, or worst, or favorite pool crashing story. And if you don't have one, well, you better get at it.

Beth:
We now belong to a pool, so don’t have the day-to-day need to crash, but we’d been crashing said pool for a few years prior to becoming members. In fact, it was not until they installed metal plates on the pool gates, making it impossible to reach your hand through to push the metal bar to freedom, that we joined. But join we did. Now our entertainment is sneaking in food and beverage in creative ways so that we are not stuck paying their ludicrous pool bar prices.

We’ve been known to crash pools while on vacation though, most recently in Scottsdale when we were staying in a relative’s condo. The complex had it’s own little pool where crashing was unnecessary, but up the street just a wee bit was a big gorgeous pool at the Valley Ho.

Crashed it we did. We could not resist. And, as usual, it was so damn easy. The key to crashing is confidence. As long as you look and feel like you belong, you have no problem. Simply pretend talk on your mobile until someone enters the gate, step forward to gingerly catch it before it closes and you are in. Like Flynn. With board shorts.

Jacquie:

Oh, I do so enjoy a lovely pool. When I've got my druthers, I'll always choose the beach, but sometimes the appeal of comfy chaises and frosty cocktails is pretty strong. My husband, on the other hand, is a notorious pool crasher. He is lucky enough to have summers off with the kiddos, and they've cut a path throughout the city to find the best spots. It's become almost an epidemic. They chatter on about the pros and cons of each spot as we drive down the freeway. I've got to hand it to them, they've found some pretty fabulous options. Their requirements are easy parking, a hot tub, and a bar. Can you match the requirement to the individual? The need for an unlocked gate goes without saying, right? Sometimes I tag along on these missions, and I'm not always impressed with the result. One day Autumn and I took the kids to one of the pools that Bill and the kids are always raving about, and it turned out to be a total pit under the freeway! But it had easy parking, a hot tub, and a bar.

A couple of years ago on Memorial Day, we packed up and headed downtown to one of the big hotels where we'd successfully crashed previously, only to find that they were now requiring wristbands! That was embarrassing enough to put a halt to my pool crashing days for most of that summer, but the kids and their dad gallivanted around the town's water holes almost daily. Around Labor Day that year, I took the kids in for an eye exam, and when the doctor came in to chat up his patients, he asked what they'd been doing all summer. My boy responded: "mostly just sneaking into hotel pools." I died.

Ellie:
Like father like son, Jacquie.

Unlike my lovely co-bloggers, I'm not so fond of the pool. I grew up in a pool -- every day at 6 p.m. my mom would drag my ass out of the pool that I had been in all day long so we could all go home and scarf down dinner. I was a hungry, hungry child. Anyway, I think my veins are still full of chlorine, so unless I'm working out, or flipping my nieces and nephews into the air, give me a beach anytime.

That said, my nieces and nephews do visit, and when they do visit, that means one thing and one thing only: Cannonball Contest! I opt not to compete in the contest, especially after my nephew said last year "Come on, Aunt Ellie! Last time you made a splash as big as a whale!" Harumph. No, instead I choose now to be a judge of all those flying cannonballers. And in 2008, I was the special, first-time-ever underwater judge.

And my point? My point is that every time my wee niece -- whose water displacement made a splash as big as a minnow -- cannonballed, she and I waved to eachother. Underwater.

1 . . . 2 . . . 3 . . .

Cannonball!

Weekend 3-Way: interviews

While preparing to give interviews recently, I spent some time looking up good questions that I could adapt for the purposes of this particular job opening. I glossed over many of the usual tired and true standards like: "What are your strengths and your weaknesses?" and "Where do you see yourself in five years?" and "Tell us about a challenge you faced and how you handled it." Yawn.

But I was intrigued by this whole subset of Unusual Interview Questions, questions that are intended to throw the applicant for a loop and get past the polish of an anticipated and rehearsed answer.

These suckers just scream for pondering by none other than your favorite blogging team at Me, You, and Ellie!

For this weekend’s 3-way, answer the following interview questions:

If you were a salad, what kind of dressing would you have?

If you were written about in the newspaper, on the front page, what would the headline say?

How would you design a spice rack for a blind person?

How would you explain a database a blog in three sentences to your five-year-old nephew?

"What did you want to be when you were 10 years old?"

Ellie:
1. Balsamic Vinaigrette. I can't separate myself from my tastes.

2. "Awesome Woman Wins Nothing! But She's Awesome Anyway!"

3. Oh, I love this. Braille and alphabetizing are *so* yesterday. I'd go from important to less important, left to right. Which, now that I think about it, is exactly how my spice rack *is* organized. Hot sauce, rooster sauce, hot chili sauce, soy sauce, garlic sauce, then as you get toward the right.... well, nothing you need to worry about.

4. If I had a five-year-old nephew --as if! My stinking nephews are gigantic huge adults at 14, 12, 11 and 9, for the love of pete's sake -- he would probably be more savvy than I, but here goes:

• 4.1. Awesome women write it...
• 4.2 ...about their awesome lives...
• 4.3 ...and if you're nice to your mom, maybe I'll write about you.

5. A doctor. Unequivocally. Sigh. Sorry Dad.

Jacquie:

The thing I love about these questions is that they’d be so perfect to tailor to a particular job interview, or to highlight one of your many talents or strengths. If you think about them, most are just looking for creative thinking, problem solving skills, and a self image assessment. I wish I had asked some of them in the actual interviews I just did, if only to see the look on the poor nervous applicant’s eyes while trying to explain her blind spice rack design. Okay, so here are my best answers:

If you were a salad, what kind of dressing would you have?

I’d have a dressing that compliments rather than overpowers the individual elements of myself, the salad. I’d look for a dressing that enhanced my best parts and made my lesser parts seem even better. Some occasions would call for a cooling sun dried tomato vinaigrette, while others might tolerate a blast of jalapeno and onions. On any day, I’d have a dressing that was adaptable, reliable, and easy to digest.

If you were written about in the newspaper, on the front page, what would the headline say?

LOCAL WOMAN DREAMS OF HIRING A HOUSEKEEPER.

How would you design a spice rack for a blind person?

With smelling portals to preview the herbs inside. Plus, Braille labels. Duh.

How would you explain a database a blog in three sentences to your five-year-old nephew?

A blog is a website where you can write about stuff. It’s kind of like a diary, but other people are going to read it so you should try to be funny sometimes and not too gross. You’ll understand more when you learn to read, dumbass.

"What did you want to be when you were 10 years old?"

A vet and/or figure skater. I do not know what happened.

Beth:
If you were a salad, what kind of dressing would you have?
The very best, very tastiest kind, of course.

If you were written about in the newspaper, on the front page, what would the headline say?
Woman stays sane during family vacation!

How would you design a spice rack for a blind person?
I'd first ask a blind person for their insight because, never having been blind myself, I'm sure they would have a better idea than me. But, by smell and feel are my first reaction.

How would you explain a blog in three sentences to your five-year-old nephew?
That's a tough one, still not really understanding the concept myself, but here goes. A blog is a website where you can post whatever you want. You can be as creative as you want. But it's best to blog with friends.

"What did you want to be when you were 10 years old?"
A nun or a flight attendant. I do not know what happened either.

Weekend 3-Way: The Fourth of July. Natch.

Happy Independence Day!

We've written about the Fourth of July before -- of course we have -- but it would be just plain silly, not to mention awkward, inappropriate, and downright unseemly, not to approach this subject again, this being America's fabulous holiday weekend.

So, whaddya got, my lovely co-bloggers? Cookouts, Boom Booms, Beach? World Cup, Baseball, Badminton? Beers, Margies, Lemonatas?

Tell us what you're up to this weekend. Or tell us what you wish you were up to this weekend. Or tell us about your favorite Fourth of July ever. Or your worst one. Just tell us.

Ellie:
Music. We're going to see lots of music. At New London's We Rock Festival. Because we do. Rock.

My Dad thinks it's odd when I say we're going to see music because music is, traditionally, about listening to, but what does he know? (Kidding, Dad.)

I may even be in my favorite place at the We Rock fest -- behind the bar, serving all the good peeps of New London beer and wine. Because they rock, too.

The rest of the weekend? Oh I imagine a bike ride or two, a cookout or two, definitely a beach outing or two. And music. Lots more music. Because we rock.

Beth:
You do rock, Ellie.

Music will not be the focus of the weekend around these parts. Although I'm sure they'll be some. Of course there will be. But will we be able to hear it over the screams of the neighborhood youth? That is the question.

The focus of our 4th will be the street; yes, we'll be en la calle this 4th. Our street has a long tradition of getting a permit to shut it off from through traffic. With blockades at both ends, the street opens up for party time. And this year, we plan to have the badminton you suggest set up in the street between our house and the Winchester's.

Actually, my fourth will entail 5 of your 8 suggestions: Cookouts, Boom Booms, Beach, World Cup, Baseball, Badminton and Beers, Margies, Lemonatas? And the World Cup and mixed drinks are a definite maybe. Shit, maybe I'll even turn on the Padres game, just so I can cross all your suggestions off my list. Plus I'll add kayaking to it.

July 4th 2008; T pulling out Jacquie's and my kids

Jacquie:

You BOTH rock. You do.

We'll be crashing joining some friends who are spending the weekend at one of the big, beautiful hotels that line our lovely Mission Bay. There will be many of my favorite peeps in attendance, especially now that Beth has mentioned crashing stopping by! There will be 80 billion kids, and when you throw a couple of pools and a bay and a boat or two into the mix, it's impossible to imagine that it won't be a rollicking good time. The fun part now is to decide what I'm going to bring. I'm thinking of our Jane's famous marinaded flank steak for the grill, and some class of asian noodle salad with the usual accouterments of veggies and hummus and lots and lots of potato chips.

But let's get serious for a minute here, Independence Day is America's birthday, it's not about the food or the friends or the sunshine or even the venue; it's about the drinks! What should we drink?! I saw a photo on the food network's webpage about a firecracker cocktail that is red in color and the glass is rimmed with blue pop rocks, there is no recipe or additional details, but I'm a smart girl, I'm sure I can come up with something red. Or I could go the more traditional route, opting for a cooler of love or the classic drinkie-poo. I don't know, though... there's something about those blue pop rocks that just screams U-S-A!!!!

Weekend 3 way: hot stuff

Summer is officially here -- the kids are out of school (sorry, Jacquie), Memorial day is a distant memory, and the summer solstice has passed, which means the days are already getting shorter (but we won't dwell on that just yet).

Summer means swimsuits and sand and sunsets and sangria, and well, sweating, sometimes.

So when the temperature rises, what are your favorite ways to beat the heat? And if you can illustrate your methods via photo, all the better.

Ellie:
I love the heat. So instead of trying to beat it, I embrace it. Summer is such a fleeting blink-of-an-eye season in these parts, it would be downright silly to try to wish it away. Plus I believe one can complain about either the cold or the heat, but not both. I choose to complain about the cold.

That said, there is nothing, nothing like a bike ride or Westy ride down to Ocean Beach, 2 miles away, on a hot sultry summer afternoon and a dive right into the water. Ahhhhh. Then there is nothing like sitting on a beach chair and opening the cooler to see what it brings. Beers? Chardonnay? Vodka and ruby-red-grapefruit?

Ahhhhhhh.

Beth:
I love the photo, Ellie! And I agree with you, who the hell wants to beat the heat? Not me, well very rarely anyway. (So why did I pose the question? A lack of imagination, that's why!) It has not yet even begun to get too hot in these parts. In fact this morning is gray and cool.

But I love summer. I can't wait for it to heat up. My very favorite thing about summer is when it's so warm that you can stay outside in your tank top at night. Sadly, that's only about a week or two around here, but I eagerly anticipate it every year.

If it does somehow get too hot to handle, I too, love to go to the beach, Ocean Beach (west), or otherwise. That ocean breeze takes the temp down at least 10 degrees, although I'm such a wimp that actually going into the ocean is reserved for child rescues and bladder emergencies.

And a cooler of cold, cold beers always helps (most everything, really). And if all else fails, I can sneak away into the evil air conditioning of my bedroom, which my husband insists on having, and which I relentlessly bitch about, except, of course, if I'm too hot. And I am hot.

Jacquie:

As Beth said, it really hasn't gotten hot yet around here. These are the days that give San Diego its reputation for having the perfect climate, it's lovely and sunny and comfortably warm. I do not like those fleeting weeks Beth speaks of, those too hot to sleep (if your room is not air conditioned) nights. I like this. By the time my kids do get out of school, it will be time to beat the heat. I live by the fans, either on the ceiling or pointing at my face. I firmly believe that hydration keeps me cool, so I like to have plenty of cold beer on hand. And I keep as much of my body submerged as possible, we spend most summer days in the water either at the beach or a pool. It's mostly about the beer, though.

Ellie again:
Beer? Did somebody say something about a cooler of beer? Here you go, girls. Have one on me.

Weekend 3-way: random loveliness

I'm inspired by my lovely and loved co-bloggers' recent posts, highlighting select random moments of pure loveliness. I love those photos that we save without quite knowing why, the ones we make a point to skip past when running through a cleansing purge of the ol' memory stick. Ellie's Motley and Beth's Hodgepodge posts brought to mind some of my own random images, and what better way to share the lovely than in this weekend's 3-way?

Let's celebrate the random lovely moments we've recently seen captured on camera...

Jacquie:

First, let it be noted that I will never again be caught without a ready photo of a pretty drink

Eric's mai tais, as I live and breathe

Next, we have a shot that really requires no explanation:

right?

Finally, the photo of my heart. My girl and her Brownie Troop, fastidiously preparing breakfast at the soup kitchen for a long line of appreciative folks on a bad turn of luck.

Those faces. Those faces.

Beth:

Does this look like a Mini Boden clothing ad, or what?!

Doesn't this marshmellow ant just make you smile?

How to get a baby to sleep on an airplane

Ellie:
Wow, what loveliness you lovely co-bloggers have! Let's see if I can find even more loveliness this week.

Ah ha!

Sunday, June Twentieth, is a Big Day in our family:

Happy 9th Birthday to my lovely lovely niece.
(This was her 6th birthday, way back when.)

Happy Fathers Day to our lovely lovely Dad.

Happy 51st Anniversary to our lovely lovely Mom and Dad.

Loveliness, indeed.

Weekend 3-Way: World Cup, Baby

It's the World Cup! The 2010 FIFA World Cup South Africa, to be precise.

32 teams, one month, one winner.

I think everyone in the civilized world -- actually, probably everyone in the uncivilized world, too -- knows that. Except maybe for my two co-bloggers. Ha! But I love to make Jacquie and Beth talk about sports. Keeps their minds nimble, and all that.

Who will it be? Brazil? Spain? Argentina? Holland? Côte d'Ivoire?

It doesn't matter, not really. It's the event of it that makes it fun.

Or..... not. Tell me, my lovely and erudite co-bloggers. Does the World Cup mean anything to you? And if it does, well, predictions, please.

Ellie:
I have never been a fan of soccer -- my favorite soccer quote is my Dad's, who says "Soccer is the game of the future . . . and always will be."

I do love the World Cup though. I love the event of it, the majesty of it, well the World-liness of it. Plus, I really really love the flags.

Mostly, though, I love the Côte d'Ivoire team. I love saying Côte d'Ivoire and I love spelling Côte d'Ivoire and I love the exuberance and joie de vivre (which I love saying and spelling too) of that country and that team. They're the Elephants, after all (or, as some might say, Ephalants!).

Word on the street is they'll get nowhere without Drogba, but we'll just see about that.

And in the meantime? USA vs. UK today. As my friend and World Cup blogger Stephen says, "Maybe, just maybe.... "

Jacquie:

Funny. We were so very recently discussing sports in our daily family email correspondence, and I had the following to offer:

“If you recall, I'd rather watch burning babies than hockey. Ditto for golf. Basketball is the WORST, the noise of it makes me want to off myself. Baseball is okay because you can just read, and it's easy to know when to look up. Football would be okay if we only had to watch one game a week, but I protest the whole Thurs-Mon monopoly of my husband's attention.”

Now please, don’t panic about the burning babies thing, although it’s a tough one to explain without coming across like an asshole. My husband and I were watching a particularly tragic episode of Dateline in which some man’s poor children perished in fire. During a commercial, we were flipping through channels and I asked: “What were we watching?” and he responded “burning babies”. Later, he switched to hockey, and I simply pointed out that I’d rather watch burning babies than hockey. Hmmmm. I still sound like an asshole. So does he.

Anyhoo, my point here is that nowhere in that whole entire paragraph about watching televised sports did I even recall the mere existence of soccer. So, world cup? Whatevs.

Beth:
Funny, Jacquie.

Well, I can say this, I wish I was going to be in attendance, not at one of the games, per se, but in Johannesburg, because you know it’s going to be a month-long party. A month-long very international party.

I want to buy me my own vuvuzela, and see the fireworks, and music, and check out the beaches. Okay, and attend a game or two. I guess. (I'd prefer that to burning babies, for sure.)

And I want Brazil to win.

I know, I know, they are favored to win, so what fun would that be? Well it would be fun, for Brazilians at least. And I must say, they know how to celebrate. When Brazil won the World Cup in 1994, for the fourth time, I was in Rio, and it was something I’ll never forget.

That crazy city, teeming with people, became a ghost town every time the team played that month. No one was out in the streets, but instead crowded around TVs, screaming. And the ending of the final game, winning the penalty shoot out after the game ended 0-0 after overtime? People were losing their minds.

Yes, I’m rooting for Brazil.

Weekend 3-way: We've got baggage

I lug around a pretty good sized purse, which is a good thing, because I store a lot of crap in there. So much, in fact, that it’s often hard to find the specific piece of crap I’m in need of at any given moment.

My phone and keys do have dedicated areas, which is essential.

But the other stuff? Who knows.

Sometimes when I’m fishing around in there I pull out the damnedest things. Barbie doll shoes and sticky pacifiers, expired coupons and old airplane barf bags. Things that have obviously have no place being carted around by me day after day after day. But yet are.

I’ve got a hunch that I’m not the only person with too much baggage though. And it’s the moment of truth…what’s the most random item in your purse?

Beth:
Well I have to say that today’s pickings are slimmer than I thought they’d be. No Barbie shoes or barf bags, although the airplane headphones that my husband felt compelled to take (but will never use) are still in there, and probably qualify as the most random item. I mean really, when is the next time I’ll be using them, August? Never?

Wait, they fit right into my iphone, so actually these could be used at any time and now qualify as useful! (I should really go through my purse more often).

Still looking….




Is it the ticket stub(s) to a concert performance from two weeks ago? Last week’s grocery list (which, by the way, I never look at but my husband feels compelled to send me off with)? Old store receipts? Or the ubiquitous Ralphs rewards card sign-up sheet?

It’s gotta be the crumpled, slightly illegible grocery list.

And honestly, what NUTS aren’t healthy?

Jacquie:
Oh, this is going to be good. My purse is a toxic wasteland. I switched back to the handy-dandy backpack model now that I’m so often using both hands to propel a wheelchair. So yes, that means I’ve been using this purse for about 6 weeks, and already the random-o-meter is binging right off the charts. I actually just finished cleaning out my wallet, because it was becoming dangerously costanza-esque and although funny, that’s too embarrassing to post in photos. Even for me.

Let’s see what we’ve got in there today:

Exhibit A: kneepads and fingerless gloves

Not exactly random, per se, knowing what we know about my kiddo. Some might wonder why these items are in my purse rather than, say, his backpack. Where he could actually retrieve and use them if desired.

Exhibit B: beer coupons, baseball cards, and $11

Again, the cash might not appear random. But please recall, I just cleaned out my wallet. These bills were wandering loosely around in the depths of my backpack, along with several hard candies and loose change and pills that are probably advil? The baseball cards were garnered at the game last weekend, and the coupons? Come on. Beer!

Ellie:

Wow. You two have me so beat.

I walk or bike to work wearing a backpack, so I can't let the clutter pile up too much. I don't want to end up like those poor high school kids bent over in two, carrying their backpacks around.

I never find barbie shoes in my backpack, and I certainly never find kneepads. Or money.

No, what builds up for me is paper.

I end up with lists of things to do, the pronunciation of a certain Icelandic volcano, my Customer Appreciation Day tally, the agenda for today's Parade Parade festivities in New London (amended to include the ponies running at the Belmont Stakes today. Go Fly Down!), lots of copies of NYT crossword puzzles -- I never go into a post office without one -- and a postcard of this guy:

That's Swede, sitting in the Tavern in the old days. Isn't he great? And on the other side I wrote down one of my own quotes, from our fabulous time in Charleston with the lovely Paul and Keely, which, presumably, I was going to send them, but which is still in my backpack:

I think Swede would agree.

Weekend 3-way: surplus

On Friday evening, I threw together a veggie tray to bring to a gathering. It was somewhat slim pickings, but I filled the little sections of my trusty travel compartment tray with broccoli, carrots, cucumber, and celery. All were fresh and crispy. I had no dip, so I opened up 3 or 4 of those little snack sized hummus containers we get at Costco (favorite thing), mixed in a dollup of Trader Joe's pesto, and toasted some pine nuts to sprinkle on top. The big bucket in the fridge was gone, so I went to the cupboard to grab some olives, I always have a spare jar of kalamatos in there. But lo, there were none! There were, however, no less than three unopened jars of chinese chili garlic oil. Which is delish, but not to meet this particular need.

But it did bring me to this weekend's 3-way:

"What do you always buy too much of? And/or on a related note, what do you always make too much of? (think lefties that end up down the drain) OR: What do you always run out of?"

Jacquie:

As stated above, I tend to buy too much chili garlic oil. It just always looks so good and for some reason, I convince myself that I've gone through the last jar I bought. I am also known to overbuy the kind of instant oatmeal that my girl enjoys, peanut butter (how many jars did you find that one time, Ellie?), and all manner of delicious sounding dips and spreads.

I make too much of many things. Growing up in a family of eight, I often envision serving sizes by those measures. As I believe we've discussed here at MYE, we Coreys are loathe to throw anything yummy away, but even though Bill takes lefties to work for lunch, every time I clean out the fridge I find several tiny buckets of stupid veggies.

And the saddest story of all, the things I don't buy enough of, and am thus chronically plum out. That list of shame would have to include: pickles, beer, citrus fruit, garlic, and any baking ingredient ever invented. In my defense, I don't bake. But there's no excuse for the garlic.

Ellie:
Jacquie, garlic?! You're half Lebanese! That's a sin and a crime against your People to run out of garlic.

And I too love chili garlic oil. Love it. Love the tall bottle of it with the rooster on it as well.

Anyway. I can't keep turkey in the house: we buy it for the week, and it lasts 2 days. I can't keep pretzels in the house: I buy a bag and I eat a bag. We never run out of beer or wine because there's a package store a couple of blocks away and we're really good customers.

I overbuy beans. Garbanzos, kidneys, black, small white, cannelloni: I've got enough cans to last until the Armageddon. I'm about to lighten my load, though: I'm in the midst of making a killer pasta/bean salad to bring to anybody's house who invites me over this weekend. It's going to be bean-heavy.

Beth:

We always have way too much cereal and far too little beer. But like Ellie, we've got a package store close by and are regular customers to say the least. You know, the sort of customers whose kids call the cashiers uncle.

We are constantly running out of baby food too. I know, I know, a good mother would be making mashed, strained, organic vegetables fresh daily, but I've never claimed to be a good mother. Organic in the jar is all I typically manage, and man, do those jars go fast! But in all fairness, Blanca plows baby girl full of food, so neither T nor I see the daily damage.

Weekend 3-Way: Drinkie-Poos

Drinks. We've not talked about drinks for a while, have we?

Yum. Drinks.

Mistah Schleckah and I drank these two particular drinks on our deck a couple of weeks ago, before the huge, emotional, landmark haircut. Delicious? Oh, they were delicious. And courage-providing.

I got thinking about drinks while looking at photos the other day, of the haircut, and of drinking margaritas with our incredibly awesome, incredibly-awesome-looking, new-mom friend Hsinny recently -- also on our deck. Our deck is, clearly, a really great place to have a drink.

So, my gorgeous, brilliant, delightful, and drink-loving co-bloggers: tell us. Give us a drinkie-poo story. What are you drinking right now? What do you wish you were drinking right now? What do you regret drinking? Right now or any other time?

Drinkie-poos. Detes, please. And photos? Oh, how we love photos.

Ellie:
I may have told this story before, I'm not sure. But I love it, every time.

Schleckah and I were condo-sitting in San Diego, north of Jacquie and Bill's house, where we had been staying, well, for months, as we were wont to do.

Jacquie and her kids, naturally, came up to play. Mrs. Schwabbie (both of Jacquie's kids' kindergarten teacher)'s condo had a pool, afterall.

I got in the pool with the kids, and flipped them up into the air. Actually, I flipped the boy up into the air. He and I had a great routine, where he'd stand on my shoulders, I'd grab his feet, I'd sink underwater, I'd tap his feet three times: "One, two, three . . . " and I'd push against the bottom and burst up into the air and throw him up and he'd do a giant flip or at least a jumping twirlsey, from my shoulders, into the air. All the while the girl was hanging onto my neck, strangling me, screeching into my ear like a screech owl.

See?

My favorite part of that day, though, was Jacquie brought drinkie-poos (along with lunch). Now, for the likes of us, margaritas are margies, a beer's a beer, and a glass of wine's, well, a glass of wine. But a drinkie-poo? Well that's something else entirely. It involves vodka and Sobe and lime and seltzer and Jacquie's man Bill is often, but not always, involved. A drinkie-poo is, most of all, entirely refreshing.

So. We were drinking drinkie-poos at the pool. Of course we were. And Jacquie's girl, who had just turned 6, saw a so-called grown-up with a big red plastic cup in his hand, and although she had no earthly idea what her Uncle Schleckah was drinking, a so-called adult with a cup meant one thing to her, and one thing only. And so she screamed, in her screech owl voice, for all the world -- and all the condo complex -- to hear,

"Uncle Bill! Put down your booze and get in the pool!"

Beth:
Right now? Well, right now I’m drinking water out of my SIGG water bottle; can you say healthy environmentalist?

Me neither, at least not without choking, because what I WISH I were drinking is an icy cold margarita. I don’t say this all that often, as I really have a lasting, true affinity for beer. But I was out late last night, seeing the John Butler Trio, and, well, drinking beer, so right now something more refreshing is called for. (Where is Ellie with her Jacquie’s blender when you need her?)

Regret drinking? Oh lots of things, Ellie, lots of things. I think maybe even these lovely drinkie-poos,


which were made at home shortly before heading off to the pool, where official drinkie-poos cost $10 and up. Pffft. As if.

Now, don’t get the wrong idea, it’s not that the above pictured drinkie-poos weren’t fruity and delicious and perfectly rum-spiced, because they were, it’s just that they go down way too fast, and always taste like more, and I have a hard time staying sober while downing sipping these girly drinks. Yes, past experience reveals that spiced rum leads to terrible haircuts, and lacerations, and who knows what all else.

Jacquie

My bonehead streak continues. Despite the fact that I've known about this weekend's photo assignment for days, I never quite got a good shot of a drinkie! Shall we pretend that I was on the wagon all week? You so funny.

Here's the moment of recall:

It was yummy.

But so does not meet the challenge of this weekend's 3-way! Thankfully, I've done my share of booze talk here on Me and You and Ellie, so all hope is not lost. Take a gander at these two luscious displays:

First, the ubiquitous cocktail of the summer of 2009, The Strawberry Lemonata. Click the photo for the recipe. You're welcome.

And then, a favorite photo of a favorite drink from a favorite spot. Mimosas at San Elijo.

Is that photo and its corresponding memories enough to inspire Autumn to find a way to finagle us back up there this summer? One can only hope.

God, I'm thirsty.

Weekend 3-Way: Whaddayougot?

It’s spring, and will soon be summer, and with the warming of the weather comes increasing opportunities to get together with friends -- to share meals, and delight in hanging on the deck, the patio, or even poolside.

Often, these fetes involve bringing something to share -- some winning appetizer or decadent dessert.

My bet is that most of us have a few tasty tidbits that we fall back on again and again (and again); something that’s easy and good, and that won’t break the bank.

So, what is it you bring when asked to contribute to a backyard barbecue, fish fry, or wienie roast?

Do you have a tried and true potluck standby?

Beth:
I can’t really say I have a tried and true standby, but I do tend to go through phases. My last phase was to bring Trader Joe’s mini crab cakes with a homemade pepper dipping sauce everywhere I went. It was easy, and yummy, and relatively cheap. And I didn’t feel too bad for buying the crab cakes already made because I’m lazy I did make the sauce myself. And the making of said sauce even involved a mixer.

I halfway discovered a new offering the last time I had people over. It's a super easy pasta salad, which I liked well enough the first time I made it, but that I now know how to vastly improve. It will involved substituting the parmesan with feta and adding lots of pine nuts. I know you want to try it.

I'll bring it, I promise. All I need is an invitation.

Jacquie:
Good one, Beth! I'm sorry to beat Ellie to this response; but the one and only tried and true, sure as gold, big-winnah bet that anyone can bring to a gathering, ever is goop.

I am forever seeking a good dish to bring to a pot luck, but that's partially due to the fact that I am cursed with the inability to show up empty handed to any class of gathering of peeps.

I do like to go with the flow if there is one, embracing the theme of the event or occasion with a complimentary dish.

But when the cards are down and you're pressed to show up with a crowd pleasing entree, my new go-to dish is none other than a good old fashioned ham. Cover your ears, mom, because in this household, those are known by no other moniker than a Goddamn Ham. You sometimes get one free at Ralphs around Easter, you sometimes crave one when you pass by a Honeybaked, but I promise you that with the minor exception of Jews and vegetarians, everybody loves a Goddamn Ham. And it will go nicely with Beth's pasta salad.

Ellie:
Jacquie you rat. Goop has been my go-dish for years and years and years. I got bored by it and stopped bringing it for a while but then I got tired of showing up at parties and watching everyone's face drop when they saw me without it, so I started bringing it again. My specific goop-claim-to-fame? I can make it in the car. On the way to the party.

But since you're already bringing the goop, Jacquie -- harumph -- and the goddamn ham, I'll bring my next go-to-option: a cheese and crack and olives and hummus and carrots platter. Because the peeps love the cheese and crack and olives and hummus and carrots.

And Beth, like you I always have the fixin's for pasta salad in my larder this time of year, including artichoke hearts, pepperoncini, roasted red peppers, and black beans. I can whip it up in an instant once I get that phone call . . .

Wow! Someone needs to invite us to a party!

Weekend 3-way: Eyes on the Prize

As Beth mentioned on Friday, I was a big winner at a recent raffle event. I came away with an interesting haul, and although some of the stuff is quite useful and cool, the prize itself is almost less exciting than that moment of winning! I don't usually win stuff, I've been playing the lottery with my coworkers for weeks now and have nary a mega-million to show for it. But I have come away with a gift basket here or a boogie board there from time to time.

For this weekend's 3-way, tell me my pretties:

Have you ever won a really big prize? Or a really small prize? Or a prize that was juuuust right?

Jacquie:
Well, as we've established, I hit a lucky streak last night. Before that momentous event, I really can not recall at time when I've been "the lucky one." But maybe that's because I'm not much of a betting girl. I usually consider the purchase of raffle tickets to be a donation toward the cause (in this case, it was the Susan B Koman Foundation) rather than an actual opportunity to win something good. I do tend to win stuff that I don't know what to do with, in fact I've won two drawings at my kids' school that I have yet to cash in, both involve having someone come to my home to render their service, and that just seems impossible in this nuthouse. Both would be quite welcome and needed at this juncture, though... one was a math tutor, and the other a massage! I had a tantalizing reminder of the joy that massage brings at last night's event, and although Beth thought the guy was a bit too rough, I loooooooved him. I've been known to love a hard core massage, though.


Ellie:
Yes! I did! I did win a prize!

I used to run the Sailfest 5K every year, and after the race there was -- still is, probably -- a raffle. Everyone who runs is automatically entered.

There were some good prizes, like nights in a hotel and massages, and some clunkers, like pillows from a home decorating store, or an oil change (we change the Westy's oil ourselves, thankyouverymuch). But I had my eye on one prize and one prize only: a $30 gift certificate to Captain Scott's, an outdoor, picnic-bench-style, BYOB, seafood eatery in New London. Love that place.

The emcee called out the prizes one by one but I pretended to be invisible when he called out the duds. Finally he said, "Next is a $30 gift card for Captain Scott's" "Oh, I really want this one," I said out loud. And he called out . . . my number! I leaped into the air, did a jumping twirlsy, collected my loot, and had an automatic highpoint for the entire weekend. And that's saying something, on Sailfest weekend.

A week or two later Mistah and I packed a cooler and headed right to the good Captain's. We ordered steamers, we ordered clam chowder, we ordered lobster rolls, we ordered corn on the cob. It was a veritable summer feast, with the sun shining down on us and cold beers refreshing us. The bill came to $40. "Figures, " I thought, "godforbid we get a $30 gift certificate to a restaurant and actually spend only $30 there."

It was fabulous, though, and worth every extra dollar. Then as we headed back to the Westy, we looked down and found a $10 bill in the parking lot.

Beth:

I love that, Ellie! It's so perfect.

I can't recall very many big wins, although I did win on Thursday night too. And it wasn't too shabby. The prize was essentially a day at Seaport Village, a touristy but fun outdoor shopping and dining area on the waterfront in downtown San Diego. Not only did it include 4 tickets for the very fine antique carousel and five Ben & Jerry's ice cream comes, but also a $100 gift certificate to be used at any Seaport Village establishment. I figure, split 5 ways, that's a $20 splurge for each of us.

I'm quite pleased with my win, but I have to say, doesn't it make you wonder if you've used your luck up for a while? You know, now that I won that package, I'm probably WAY down the list for hitting those lotto numbers??

Weekend 3-Way: Parental Visitation

Mom and Dad are coming today! Actually, they're here. Visiting us!

My parents get around. They spent Easter in San Diego with Jacquie and her Bill and their kids and went on a cruise to Mexico. My nephew is, quite literally, still reeling from that adventure.

They spent last weekend in Chicago -- our sister Jane's oldest was the star of a middle school production and was, by all accounts -- including accounts made by audience members who are not her parents or grandparents -- awesome. The words amazing, lovely, poised, stunning, outstanding, and beautiful were thrown around. Her voice was like an angel and she just took your breath away got heard, too.

Mom and Dad got to see our sister Ann when they were in Chi-town too, see Mary Beth and Mark Dowd regularly -- they're going to see them tomorrow, in fact -- and get down to Asheville NC to see Julie and her family quite often. They drive to Asheville, which is like a 47-hour drive. Okay, 13 hours. Well, for them. It takes the Westy at least 2 days to get there.

Anyway.

Today? They're here. Even though we have no grandchildren for them to gush over, and even though -- perhaps more importantly -- we have no TV for them to watch, they're visiting us. Because they rock. But because we have neither chitlins nor TV, we need to come up with a strategy for full-on fun.

So. The Question. Parental Visitation. When your parents or your mom comes to visit, what's the plan?

Ellie:

Children? TV? Who needs 'em? After my mom finishes her conference and my dad and I finish our couple of small lighting fixture projects, there is only one thing to do: Happy hour on the sunny deck on the most spectacular day of the year.

And then? Well, today is the Kentucky Derby, my friends. And Mom and Dad and Billy-Boy and I are heading straight to the Tavern to watch it. We'll pick horses out of a hat and one of us will undoubtedly win it all. My Irish mom says there's only one horse for her: Paddy O'Something. And there's only one horse for me, too. When there's a filly in a race, I root for her. Girl Power and all that. Johnny Slips and I already picked our horses; he picked the filly and I picked Awesuuuume Act and he traded with me. I know! That's a win-win!

Go Devil May Care!

Jacquie:

One of the few great things about living far away from our parents is that visits are such a special event! We’ve been seeing both sets of grandparents a couple of times each year lately, which we intend to keep up! When my parents are set to visit, it’s important to prepare my colon. You see, we will eat nothing but Mexican for the duration of their stay. Now my dad is not too proud to order a hamburguesa, but I would not dream of such travesty. So whenever mom and dad are in town, it’s a bean fueled foos-ville of joy.

Bill’s parents have a favorite seafood joint in town, and we delight in a trip down to the harbor every time they come. So yeah, it’s all about food. At least in terms of planning when the ‘rents come to town. But as we’ve established time and time again, it’s the quiet moments that truly inspire our memories. That and the hotel swimming pools.

Beth
Well, Ellie, isn't this timely?! My mom is in town this very moment. Yes, she flew in from St. Petersburg, Florida, Thursday night, and will be staying right here with us until Monday morn.

This visit, it's all about the dance. That's right. It's a big competition weekend for my oldest. The first weekend that she'll perform both her jazz and hip hop numbers in front of the judges. These competitions are other worldy, to put it lightly. It's a whole parallel universe. But that's a story for another day....

So, we're off to watch the dances today, after watching dance classes last night, and sending one of the girls off to dance class just hours after Nonnie arrived on Thursday night as well.

But tomorrow? Tomorrow is all about the pool.

Weekend 3 way: queue it up

Earlier this week I was working on my Netflix queue. You know, trying to add plenty of good flicks to the list so that I’m certain to have something exciting and anticipated coming back at me the next time I send that bright red envelope on its merry way -- instead of a big fat nothing.

My problem, however, is that I’ve never been big into watching movies. I don’t enjoy going to the theater, as much as Ellie’s film festival post made me wish I did. And although I do enjoy watching movies at home, I don’t do it all that often. Or at least didn’t used to. Having a baby who goes to bed at 6:30 pm is changing this a bit, so I’d like your help.

I want to have a kick ass queue. And you probably do too.

So………what are you top 5 movies ever?? Or, if that’s too ambitious, just list 5 that you’ve recently watched and would recommend to all. Provide us with some super suggestions so we don’t end up feeling like this. Please.

Beth:
I like action, and drama, and romantic comedy. I like family movies, and thrillers, and foreign flicks. What I don’t like are sci-fi and fantasy. So it will not surprise you when I say, I did NOT like District 9. This does not make my top 5. Not by a long shot.

But here are some that do make my list:
Chocolat
Brokeback Mountain
Parenthood
The Bourne Identity
The Hangover
Life is Beautiful

Ellie:
I don't have a queue. I fervently wish I had a queue, because I love watching movies and I don't watch them nearly enough. Actually, I don't watch them ever lately, since our laptop crashed and we got it reloaded and it won't play DVDs anymore. All that's going to change, though: I'm going to find an external laptop DVD player. Hmm, I just looked on ebay and didn't see anything. Why is this so hard?

Anyway.

A couple of months ago my niece Chapel Hill Girl emailed me and my sisters and my mom (and dad, but he's an email lurker) this:

It is near the end of the semester (one week before exams start!) and for my film class, my TA has requested that everyone compile a list of about 8 films that we would recommend to our classmates. The kicker is that they have to be films that the majority of people would not have seen, so not blockbusters. I'm drawing a blank and I was wondering if you all had any suggestions.

Did we ever. We are a family full of suggestions. We'll suggest anything, to anybody. We're very helpful that way.

And this actually has nothing to do with Beth's question, but Beth's question made me think about this exchange with Chapel Hill Girl, and the ensuing emails that flew around, and I've had such fun revisiting it all. (Ohdeargod I am such a geek)

But anyway. Top five movies ever? That's a tough one. Here are five I fervently love:

*Brokeback Mountain
*Young Frankenstein
*Moonstruck
*Hair
*Run Lola Run

Actually, that wasn't hard at all....

Jacquie:

Ummmmm, Beth? You DO realize that the movie I invited you to watch with me on Weds is in a theater, right? LOL. It's an advance screening of "babies", can't wait! Top movies, hmmmm. That's hard. Here are a few:

The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo (don't miss it)
Go
Empire Records
Johnny Dangerously

I reserve the right to add billions more after We're discharged!!