obama us and tattoos

If you want to talk fashion and beauty and drop-dead elegance, you have to look at these John Singer Sargent portraits. Let's face it. If you had the money to hire him to do your portrait or your wife's portrait, he must have known he had to make you look good. Make that goddamn good.

Ever notice how a sort of hayseed guy and his wife get elected to national office and they look entirely different two years later? The man, usually the one elected, looks OLD. The wife, on the other hand, has stylists and makeup people and who knows what else and she looks FANTASTIC.





Compare this man and wife







to this glamorous couple



What am I trying to say? Sometimes, SOMETIMES people look better when they are older. And I confess more than two years elapsed between those two photos. Okay, let's try these two.





Very young






Old and Far More Stylish


Okay, so this proves that I badly need stylists and makeup "people" and advisors. Before it's too late.

NEWS FLASH: I am kitten-sitting for my daughter's mischievous pets. What will happen?

A bientot

love,
Becky

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Four friends. Four tattoos. One ancient evil.

Bailey Morgan isn't the type of girl who shows a lot of skin, but somehow, she ends up in a dressing room at the mall with her friend Delia applying a temporary tattoo to her lower back. Never one to suffer fashion doubt, trendsetter Delia knows exactly where she wants her own tattoo: on her stomach, right where her shirt ends—can you say "midriff"? Annabelle, the quiet one, chooses the back of her neck, and tomboy Zo plasters hers on the top of her foot. The tattoos will last for three days, and Delia's sure that with them, the four friends will absolutely kill at the school dance.

Unfortunately, killing is just what someone has in mind, and Bailey, Delia, Annabelle, and Zo are in for the battle of their lives. Along with her tattoo, each girl receives a gift—a supernatural power to help them in their fight. As Bailey's increasingly frightening dreams reveal the nature of their enemy, it becomes clear to the girls that it's up to them to save the world. And if they can get Delia to stop using her newfound power to turn gum wrappers into Prada pumps, they might actually stand a chance.

What Critics Are Saying:

"Imagine the gang from the Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants series with magic tattoos that give them each different powers... Spunky, fun-loving, and sometimes cranky teen-girl friendships and realistic dialogue propel this character-driven, fast-paced read."
-Booklist

"This chick-lit fantasy, similar to though not as dark as Neal Shusterman's fairy-tale retellings, is a fast-paced, fun read for Buffy and Charmed fans." -School Library Journal

"Fantastical, but with a reality check." -Kirkus

“In the end, readers will get a few good laughs from these sassy heroines.” –Publisher’s Weekly

"Jennifer Lynn Barnes' Tattoo is a page-turning thrill ride that incorporates Greek mythology with the supernatural adventures of four likable, wisecracking friends. Fun, entertaining, and a total reading pleasure." -Melissa de la Cruz, author of BLUE BLOODS

“I haven't met a greater group of friends since THE SISTERHOOD OF THE TRAVELING PANTS… TATTOO is a unique story that is sure to satisfy any reader -- fantasy lover or not.” –Teensreadtoo.com




Bio:

A Native Oklahoman, Jennifer Lynn Barnes is a recent graduate of Yale University, where she studied cognitive science (the study of the brain and thought). Jennifer is a 2006-2007 Fulbright Scholar in the United Kingdom, where she is currently doing autism research at Cambridge University. She wrote her first book, Golden, when she was a teenager and wrote several others- including Tattoo- while still in college. Her next book, Platinum, will be released in September of 2007.


Visit Jen at her website and her blog.

Attention published female authors: Would you like to be a member of the virtual tour for women authors called the Girlfriend Cyber Circuit? Here’s an FAQ about the GCC. We are now adding candidates to our waitlist. If you’d like to be added, please email Karin Gillespie .

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How long have I been walking past these obvious decs? Gosh, a month? I put everything away ages ago, but these were sequestered off in a corner. What else is lurking? Tiny Santas in obscure crevices, holiday towels on unknown racks, elves laughing evilly (evilly?) from behind oven mitts--GOTCHA!! Trust me, I hate when this happens.

This is really a filler entry because the entry that's supposed to be here about Jennifer Barnes' new book is giving me problems with the photo upload. As soon as I figure it out, TATTOO will be here.

Maybe I'll have a Christmas tattoo etched on my neck. An angel? A tree?

A bientot
love,Becky

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This is where I look for the little suckers and sometimes they fall from the upper roof into this view. If I had a gun, I would shoot them without remorse, although my yuppie neighbors might have some objections. I have had a trap out here on my roof in the past and it has worked quite well. At one time I caught 13 or 14 fine writhing specimens, then transported them to a nearby park. It was a good system in its way, but I started to wonder if I was actually attracting MORE of them with my trap.

HEY. YOU CAN USUALLY FIND PEANUTS UP ON THAT ROOF, YOU KNOW.

NO KIDDING. WHERE'S BILL?

I DON'T KNOW. BILL HASN'T BEEN SEEN SINCE HE WENT UP THERE. IN FACT, NONE OF OUR FRIENDS EVER COME BACK WHEN THEY GO TO GET ONE OF THOSE PEANUTS.

YOU SUPPOSE THERE'S SOMETHING TO IT? LIKE A BERMUDA TRIANGLE KIND OF THING?

COULD BE. I MIGHT GIVE IT A TRY ANYWAY.


Squirrels are stupid but more persistent than any human. My father once had an expensive bird feeder filled with seed, which the squirrels naturally wouldn't leave alone. Dad said he was determined not to let them get the best of the situation, but guess what? In the end he surrendered. Why? Because the squirrel was willing to give his whole day to the problem and my dad wasn't.

In other news, I have given up my DW book. Dalliance Woman is dead but not forgotten. Adultery is not funny, some say. I of course say--why not? But it will have to wait for another time.

Meanwhile, I'm working on something about a nun. How's that for a 180? My nun is an ex-nun, though, and entering the world for the first time at age 43.

My new semester is going well, lots of enthusiasm as always. Little do they know I am a wildlife trapper of great skill.







Here, boy! Come get this peanut!







A bientot
love,
Becky

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See it there, lying in the darkness in its undignified offseason position? It hates me for making it look so disheveled. That's the way Virgos are, you know. They are a fastidious lot and very clean.

Virgos, according to astrologyonline are modest and shy and my Christmas tree is both of those on the surface. Underneath, however, it is full of opinions and if you sit in its blinking glow of a December night, you will get to hear those opinions. Geesh, what a conservative. I have to use the threat of heavy tinsel garlands sometimes to get it to shut up.

Virgos are intelligent and practical and my tree fits that profile too. It knows all the electrical requirements for optimum fiberoptic blinking and it insists on them for its yearly performance, sometimes unfairly so.

IT'S PLUGGED IN. SEE? NOW WORK!!!

SORRY, BECKY, SOMETHING UNDERNEATH ISN'T RIGHT.

YOU MEAN WAY UNDERNEATH? ARE YOU GOING TO MAKE ME LIFT YOU UP AGAIN? I CAN'T TAKE IT.

DO YOU WANT LIGHTS OR NOT?

See what I mean?










Here is a famous Virgo.










Here is another one.






What do they have in common? Probably nothing in the fashion area. Plus one is dead and one is alive. Astrologyonline says Virgo is sometimes represented by a pedantic and spinsterish woman, which if we had to assign the role here, would have to go MT. Raquel falls more under the emotionally cold, critical face of the sign.

I guess.

I can't figure this stuff out anyway.

Guess what I am, dear reader?

You're quite right.

A bientot
love,
Becky

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They lost. We're stunned. No one thought it would happen, not with Tom Terrific guiding the boys down the field. Oh well. Emotion courtesy of the beautiful and talented Maeve Motew.


Good Things That Make Up for Pats Loss:

1) Hardly any snow. My plow guy hasn't even been here this whole winter.

2) No 90 minute classes this semester. Those are, forgive the expression, ball busters.

3) Dice K, the new Red Sox phenom from Japan. Let's hope he works out. I imagine he is surrounded by interpreters night and day. That could be a fun job and I wish I spoke Japanese. "He says throw harder, Dice. Yeah, I know. The finger thing? I don't know what that means."

4) $15 still left on Starbucks gift card

5) I don't have polio.

6) I haven't been in a car accident.

7) Christmas still 11 months away.

8) No toothaches

9) Roof and windows intact

10) Four pounds to go to High School Weight.

10a) Fiendishly clever plot underway for new book.


Lies Told in Above List

1) No fiendishly clever plot. Struggling with ideas for two books at the same time.

2) Still five pounds to go. Body holding tough, in the red zone, won't give up points. Can't shake football talk.

That's because we're still stunned at loss.

But we are Here Now, dear reader and I will quote my mother.
It's a great life if you don't weaken.

A bientot
love,
Becky

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Of all the places we spend time certainly our legal residence probably logs in at the highest number of hours. After all, we sleep there in addition to eating and reading and doing anacrostic puzzles or whatever it is that the rest of you do.

After that might be our place of employment. We log a few hours there too.

But after that, for most women anyway, it's our local grocery. We walk into this establishment in the summer, in the winter, in the fall and spring. We trigger that automatic door in the rain, in the bright sunshine, in the sleet and snow and whether we have poinsettias in our hands, Halloween candy, or Super Bowl snacks (coming soon).

I think it's truly remarkable that I almost never see anyone I know here. Considering that every one of my neighbors undoubtedly shops here, most people from my street and even my town walk in that door, it shocks me that I never see them.









Most of us can walk through our regular grocery blindfolded. I certainly could. Here is the grape department where all too frequently the specimens are a bit soft. The prices are not cheap either and I frequently spend five bucks on grapes. They are an essential part of my South Beachy weight loss regimen. Lately I have been seeing customers removing grapes from these plastic bags and putting them into different plastic bags. I haven't had the nerve to ask them why they were doing this.
BECAUSE I FEEL LIKE IT.
BECAUSE I ONLY WANT A BAG THAT I PICKED OUT.
BECAUSE I WANT SOMEONE TO ASK ME ABOUT IT.

There are plenty of weird people in the grocery. A woman stopped me recently and asked me if I used colored Kleenex. I said I did. She said you really shouldn't because, and I apologize for this, when you blow your nose and then look at what you have blown, you won't be able to tell with colored Kleenex if you have an infection.

These people shop at my grocery.







Name the two words in this sign that you will never hear inside the store.
That's right, dear reader. I shan't belabor the point.

Okay, I have this out of my system. At ease.

A bientot
love,
becky

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This little scamp, named Dahlia, belongs to my daughter. Dahlia is very young but looks suspiciously as though she wears eye makeup. Frankly, I wouldn't doubt that she slips her way into the bathroom on a mascara forage.
She has ideas above her station.
As I sat in a chair, she scooped my car keys from out of my purse right in front of me and hauled ass into the other room.
There is no doubt her ambition is to take off in my car.
I am wise to her.









This is the good sister, Violet. She obeys, minds her manners, and cuddles up









It's exhausting being so good all the time and putting up with your sibling's high jinx. Sometimes you think you need to see a shrink.



Dahlia: COME ON, LET'S SCRATCH THE HECK OUT OF THIS LAMPSHADE.
Violet: NO, MUMMY WON'T LIKE IT.
Dahlia: OH, YOU ARE LIKE NO FUN. WELL THEN, LET'S RACE AROUND LIKE NASCAR, OKAY?
Violet: NO.
Dahlia: JUMP IN THE REFRIGERATOR AS SOON AS IT'S OPEN AND THEN WHIMPER AND MEW WHEN WE'RE CAUGHT INSIDE?
Violet: I SAID NO.








Shouldn't we all be having more fun?



love,
Becky
p.s. Hannaford's next

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WHAT IS THAT FLAVOR ON THIS HAMBURGER?

IT'S DEEP WOODS OFF. REFRESHING, ISN'T IT?

You have to give yourself little laughs in your life, don't you? I mean little repeating ones that always get you. This is one of mine, dear reader. Every time I reach for the cooking spray I see these three cans side by side and have a good chuckle.

I really should get out more.

But I am proud to say I have never made the above mistake. I think it would be more fun if a guest did it. I don't ask too many guests to cook, though, so the odds of it happening are low.

The converse of the hamburger event would be trying to ward off mosquitoes with butter flavored cooking oil. Don't we think that would agitate the mosquitoes beyond belief?

OH.

MY.

GOD.

HAVE YOU BEEN TO THE MOTEWS'? YOU CAN GET BATHED IN BUTTER THERE.

YOU'RE KIDDING.

NO. IT'S AWESOME. I MET A GNAT THERE WHO IS INCREDIBLY HOT.


You have now seen the inside of one of my cabinets. Of course I did spruce it up a little for your inspection, but I must say, this blog stuff is getting rather intimate. I'm tempted to show my new shower curtain next, but what would people say?

No, I think next will be an insider edition scoop of Hannaford's. See it the way I see it.

They should only know about the cooking spray.








You never know who's watching.



A bientot

love,
Becky

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Doesn't this look delicious? Melissa Senate's newest sounds terrific!!!

LOVE YOU TO DEATH (January 07, Red Dress Ink)
By Melissa Senate

Abby Foote’s worst exes are on someone’s hit list. Who’s going around shooting men who broke Abby’s heart? And why?

First, a former boyfriend (who dumped Abby in the most humiliating way possible) is found murdered the day his engagement is announced. Then two other exes report attempts made on their lives right after breaking up with her. Coincidence? A very hot detective from the Portland Police Department doesn’t think so. Neither do Abby’s friends, family, coworkers and former boyfriends dating back to kindergarten, who are all shaking in their shoes as though the Abby they know and supposedly love to death is capable of, say, poisoning their Diet Cokes. Is someone trying to frame her? Do her some kind of warped favor? Abby, with that delicious detective on her trail, is about to find out.

“Readers will cheer Abby every step of the way as she tries to clear her name and find her prince for whom the glass slipper will finally fit.” –Publishers Weekly

Check it out on Amazon here (but ignore the attached excerpt because it’s not for Melissa’s book)!

Visit Melissa’s website here for more info and to read an excerpt.

Bio: Melissa Senate is the author of six novels, including her best selling debut, See Jane Date (the cute TV movie version is available on DVD), and one (so far) young adult novel, Theodora Twist. Melissa contributed an essay to the newly published anthology It’s A Wonderful Lie: 26 Truths About Life In Your Twenties and to the forthcoming anthology Everything I Needed To Know About Being A Girl I Learned From Judy Blume. A former book editor (romance novels, Mary-Kate & Ashley tween novels and Sweet Valley), Melissa now writes full time from her home on the southern coast of Maine, where she lives with her young son and his toys.


Attention published female authors: Would you like to be a member of the virtual tour for women authors called the Girlfriend Cyber Circuit? Here’s an FAQ about the GCC. We are now adding candidates to our waitlist. If you’d like to be added, please email Karin Gillespie .

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For all those who doubted my balancing abilities, think again.

I wanted to do one of those Karate Kid poses, but couldn't quite manage it given the slipperiness of these rocks. I had intended to walk out to the farthest point, but my friends said if I did, they were turning around and leaving me there. Right after this shot, I slipped and fell into a more ignominious pose. Champagne fuels courage if not coordination.

Those of you who picked shopping weekend with the girls, YOU WERE RIGHT. Except it wasn't all shopping. It was mostly laughing. Everybody sets everybody else straight on what they are doing wrong with their lives and mostly how they need to THINK about their lives.

I have been set straight. I am on the Right Path. I will not falter.










Or these people will kill me.




I have been working on a totally new idea for a book. It's rather shocking for me. But in the larger sense it isn't shocking at all. I'm not ready to talk about it yet, though.

Class starts Tuesday and naturally that's the day they're saying snow and sleet and ice and every other undesirable thing in the weather. That means class prep tomorrow, UGH and UBER UGH.

I pray there are no grass moles in my class [figure it out, dear reader].

Go Pats.

A bientot
love,
Becky

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What makes a great photograph? Inherent beauty? Capturing the sensual pleasure and spiritual worthiness of an object and immortalizing it?

I think I've done a pretty good job here.











You can always show the great outdoors and your neighbor's secret garden. There's nothing like nature for the big picture.











This might be more my speed, though.



At any rate, I am headed off today for one last vacation weekend. Guess where I'm going?

a) illicit weekend with Johnny Depp
b) illicit weekend with Hannaford's produce manager
c) shopping weekend with girlfriends
d) writing retreat
e) four days of concentrated saxophone lessons




Remember, only one is true.

And that's all the news I can talk about, dear reader.

Be back on Sunday.
love,
Becky

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Mmmm yes, that's right, dear reader, I get to eat ice cream all day (not the cone, though). That's because I came through dental surgery yesterday and am still alive.

The surgeon was very cute and nice. This always helps.

"Are you comfortable?" he asked from time to time. They do not want you to say "no" to this. My girlfriend and I have delineated three degrees of tooth pain.

1) bearable
2) unbearable
3) hurts like a mofo

I generally do not complain unless I hit level 3 and then what the heck. At level 3, admonitions about becoming addicted to painkillers are laughable. SO WHAT. ADDICT THIS. I will take any pill, climb any mountain, ford any stream for any drug to get relief.

But I digress.

He wore black safety glasses and smiled at me with a warm crinkly look of concern. I like being in love while I'm being worked on. I wanted to tell him if this career doesn't work out for you, you can be a welder and I can bring you lunch.

"You okay?" was another thing he asked frequently. "mmghdks;f," I murmured in my most cheerful monotone, instead of "What time is it now? About how much longer do you think this will be? How many more times is that long probing thing going in?"

They showed me a collection of CDs I could listen to while they worked on me, but I declined. What if I started keeping time to the music? Dum da da dum dum DUM OH MY GOD TRAGIC ACCIDENT. Were they trying to get me not to listen to what THEY were saying? Things such as "Can you see her nails? Good grief. And you'd think she might own a better pair of shoes, wouldn't you?"

You get a goody bag when you leave. It has an instant ice pack, toothbrush, and I forget what else. No coupons for next time, though.

My face is swollen slightly. Here is a picture taken early this morning






I don't think it's too bad as long as I can get to the hairdresser's fairly soon.

A bientot

love,
Becky

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Come on in, but don't bring Rex. What I hate is when there IS a dog on the track following you around and people assume 1)it's yours 2)you are casually breaking the rule. Every time someone passes me (uh, that would be about everyone), I think of doing a Peter Sellers--"It's nut my dog."

It's quite unbelievable even to be ON the track in January. Normally this is treadmill time and thank god this is happening because my treadmill is trying to pull a fast one. It's acting like it is a bureau. It just wants to sit there and not do anything even in the face of 120 volts of electricity. Or whatever.

Watts?

Volts?

GOOD EAR NEWS!!!!!!!
I forced the doctor to see me on Friday and he flushed out my ears (THANKS FOR SHARING, BECKY!) If you have never had this done, I do not recommend it. He takes an enormous stainless steel contraption that looks like a frosting tube and fills it with water and then blasts it into your head. It went all the way to the early childhood lobe of my brain on one side and my college dorm memories on the other. I remembered where I left my Physical Science textbook at long last.

Anyway, I can HEAR AGAIN OUT OF BOTH SIDES AND PROBABLY WON'T FALL DOWN. This is never guaranteed, however.



And in other news how, you might ask, is the 600 pound gorilla doing?






Could that be SATAN? Or rather SANTA?? CHRISTMAS CLEANUP, which Becky loathes.


Are you ready?



I did it ALL.

Yes, dear reader, I scoured and hunted down and put away every little doobiewicky. They are all mashed into the den cabinets and/or one big cardboard box. Even the tree has gone not to its final reward but possibly close. It is upstairs resting uncomfortably on its side in its box. Several more limbs are now disattached. BUT I DON'T CARE.

I have one week left for writing. I am working on something a little different which I will share soon.


love,Becky

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My ear is no better and the doctor is putting me off. Says I should continue using drops, etc. and some "irrigation system" which I think is this tiny little turkey baster thing which I can't get to work.

This diagram scares me. It's a long way in there, isn't it? I don't like the looks of that butterfly thingie way on the inside. That's the thing that's full of wax, I'm sure. I think I have a big Yankee candle in there that somehow got misplaced over the holidays.











Now let's look at this diagram.

I hate to say it, but it almost looks like a gynecological diagram, YUCK. That butterfly thing looks a bit smaller here, maybe a little more like a unicorn creature. Come on, baby, loosen up!!!!


I am headed off to do what I can:

HELLO? I CAN'T HEAR YOU. I'M TRYING TO SUCK MY EARDRUM.

WHAT? OH, I'M JUST KIDDING. I'M SOAKING IN HYDROGEN PEROXIDE. IT'S AWESOME. I'M GOING TO TRY IT ON MY NAILS.

WHAT? I HAVE TO LIE HERE ON MY SIDE FOR 20 MINUTES. IT'LL DO ME GOOD, I THINK. I DON'T FEEL LIKE WORKING ON MY SYLLABUS ANYWAY.

WHAT? YEAH, IT'S ALWAYS SOMETHING.


And on Monday, boys and girls, I have massive dental surgery at 10:30. I'm having my face reconstructed to enter the Witness Protection Program. They give you new ears for that too, I think.

Wish me luck.

A bientot
love,
Becky

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I can't believe I'm here at the track in January!!! Yaaaay!!! In truth I should be home facing my tasks. New syllabus, new book, new life in the new year. But the 600 pound gorilla remains. And what is that?






AAAARGH!! Christmas cleanup! Yes, that's right, my house looks totally like Christmas Eve. Santa could come down that chimney any time.

Ew. I forgot to look, but I think there is a dead poinsettia in that fireplace. It's supposed to be red and there is no sign of it here.

I don't want to be rash, of course. Maybe today will be Candle Day. I will collect any holiday candle items that I see anywhere in the house and deliver them to the table in the den. Yeah!!! I think I can manage that! By Fourth of July I should be ready to haul the tree upstairs, speaking of which, it sustained some fiberoptic damage on its way down this year and I fear for its little blinking heart on the way back up.

Toughen up, baby!!!

I need to toughen up, too. Yesterday I woke up to a numb ear. Seriously, my ear is blocked up. I bought eardrops at the drugstore and walked around all day dealing with various situations with my head tilted dangerously to the side (the few brains I have left I think are leaking out). See?





It makes you see the world differently and maybe I need to.




Anyway, I'm meeting a writer friend today and I'm very excited about it, although sometimes we can be somewhat morose.

GOD, I SUCK.

OH, I SUCK TOO. NOBODY LIKES ME.

YEAH? WELL, MY PICTURE IS UP IN HANNAFORD'S SAYING NOBODY LIKES ME.

OH, SHUT UP.

A bientot

love,
Becky

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I want to write well.

I want to be my old self.

I want to read a lot, the way I used to. I love all the Bloomsbury writers and artists and I might be in the mood for one of those thick biographies. Or Mary Cassatt, there must be a definitive one of her, or maybe Lillian Hellman. I'm interested in her life and the choices she made. I would like to know how she felt, with Dashiell Hammett and without.

I want to be more like my daughter, who reads nothing but classics. She says when you pick up one of those, you're guaranteed something good. She is well educated but always learning.

I need a new book of puzzles and I will get one.

As always, I wouldn't be here if it weren't for my friends and family, who hold me up through all the hurdles and cuckoo escapades and still laugh at my jokes.

Last year my goal was to lose weight and I did. I met that goal and then some. I finished the book I was writing also, Victory as I called it (fate unknown but stay tuned). I launched Coupon Girl and had a blast. I met new people and liked them.

But now I want to be what I was before. I want to be happy and have a twinkle in my eye.

I choose this for myself.


b

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