Friends 2.0

When it comes to friends, I am a rich, rich woman - the Bill Gates of compadres. I've always gratefully accepted this bounty but this weekend has brought a wonderful new revelation - a concept I hadn't fully grasped before.

Beyond the interest on my 401K, the passage have time has brought forth another great perk: My friends have gotten together and spawned a whole new generation of people that I REALLY dig. For years, my friends' kids have often been just cute short people whose faces I saw in Christmas card photographs. Lately, however, I've been getting to know them as people and they are a friggin' blast. They are also LOUD but hey - that's what happens when you're fairly new to Earth and have a lot to say.

The kids pictured above are a perfect example. (This photograph was taken around 1:30 a.m. on Saturday night, mere minutes before we went and toiletpapered somebody's house.) I have been pals with their moms since high school - together we have endured love, loss, run-ins with the law and lots of sisterly support.

Daughter of my wonderful pal, Debbie, Hannah is the blondie on the left. With her own modeling portfolio and three older brothers - she is both tough and beautiful. (You can find her on doll packages at a store near you, though she is since 'retired.') Nathan (in blue) and Tanner (with arm outstretched) are two of those brothers, whose main job is to "make sure no one kisses or harasses Hannah." Nathan is an actor and comedian in training and has inherited his father's great skill; Dad Greg is one of the funniest people I know - and I know A LOT.

Meanwhile, Tanner is already a rugged individual. He'll be one of those guys that either flies his own bush plane over the Alaskan wilderness, runs his own surf shop in Mexico or quietly becomes a powerful business tycoon. Whatever he does, he'll be independently content cuz that's his vibe.

Daughter of Andrea, Samantha is on the right and she was one of my very first friends in this generation. (Here we are again, in a parking lot fashion shoot in Santa Monica.) We have been in Wild West shows together and once loitered together for three days at petting zoo. Some of you may have seen me sporting the famous cowhide purse? Well, it was Samantha who picked it out. I'll carry it until it wears out or until PETA finds out and rips it off my shoulder - whichever comes first.

Sam is 14 and like her mother, doesn't mind telling you off in one breath and then laughing at herself in the next - a very lovable combination. Also like her mother, she is fierce, stunning and fearsome on the volleyball court. Both she and Hannah are the peak of their "OMG!!! OMG!!!! OMG!!!" take on the world which is hilarious when I realize that I used to be exactly like them. It's hard knowing all there is to know at 14 - it all goes down from there.

Another "kid" that I saw this weekend is, amazingly, no longer a kid at all but a real man.

When I first met Aaron, he was just two years old and very short. Now he is 22 and much taller. He is the "Mr. Son" of my dear friend, Heidi, whose birthday we celebrated this weekend. Because he is Heidi's son, he was raised without television and tons of real-life adventures which may or may not have anything to do with the fact that he is one of the kindest, gentlest deep thinkers I know. Aaron just graduated from UCLA with a degree in history, minoring in Art History. He is very zen and quite accustomed to bending down to hug people like me, who adore him.

This here is the daughter of my pal, Kathleen, who I've known since First Grade or so. Technically, her name is Emma but I know her simply as Gumdrop or, in cases of supergreatcoolness, "The Mighty Gumdrop."

She has a great brother too, named Devin (see below) - I used to call him "The Little Prince" but he needs an updated name that pinpoints his inherent studly coolness. I fully expect to see Devin on the cover of a Wheaties box someday, winning the World Cup for the U.S. I didn't actually see either of these kids this weekend but I came across these photos while penning this post and thought I'd throw 'em in the mix because I consider them friends as well, even if they don't know it yet. (Also, Gumdrop has a brilliant business plan - I'm hoping she loops me in at some point as an investor... it pays to remind her how far back we go. Business politics and all that - wink!)

There are ton more 2.0 kids I could mention here and eventually will, as the friendships grow and the adventures continue ... I'm happy to be that 'crazy Aunt' person who will give it to 'em straight and take their advice on what it means to be cool, once again, because I have surely forgotten.

To all my friends: Thanks! Now, go make more!

RIP Randy Pausch

The good-humored and incredibly brave soul of Randy Pausch passed away today at the hands of that hateful bastard, pancreatic cancer.

Randy was the Carnegie Mellon professor whose "last lecture" became a huge Internet phenomenon and became a best-selling book. I've read so much about this guy and was constantly amazed at how he stoically dealt with the horrible news that his cancer would soon take his life, leaving his wife a widow and his three young children without a father.

His reaction was to have as much fun as possible and pass along whatever gems of wisdom he had acquired in 47 years of life on Earth. So when the opportunity came, he shared as much we could handle. I read every interview I could get my hands on and marveled at how a man could summon the courage to say goodbye his family and still take the time to share with strangers his gifted insight.

I just kept thinking, "This is not a marketing stunt. There is no ulterior motive here. This guy is really going to die." Today, that horrible fact is driven home by Randy's passing.

Thankfully, he left with some fantastic advice in his lecture, "How To Achieve Your Childhood Dreams" in which he infuses humor, some push-ups and very sage advice:

"The brick walls are there for a reason ... to show us how badly we want something. Because the brick walls are there to stop the people who don't want it badly enough. They're there to stop the other people."

Thanks so much, Randy. We wish you could have stayed longer.

Quote for the Day

I came across this quote today and I am quite fond of it:

“The average pencil is seven inches long, with just a half-inch eraser—in case you thought optimism was dead.”

—Robert Brault, some guy

Off to LA!

Shocking news: I have to get on a plane again. I'm leaving in a few minutes for yet another flight - this time to Los Angeles, home of my birth. The point? To visit Mama Iva and attend the 50th birthday party of my dear friend, Heidi.

Let's hope I don't lose anything this time.

Summer Traditions

In my new sweltering Colorado summers, a couple of steady traditions have developed. First off, my closest friend - who happens to be a furry beast named Simone - gets a gooooood shaving. I put it off this year for a number of reasons, mostly because it's so traumatic for her. However, day after day of watching her considerable form - encased entirely in thick black fur - flop desperately on the coolness of the bathroom floor, made me reconsider.

Some of you may recall last year's episode of Simone's adventure with Crytal's Clips, a mobile pet salon. This is such a great service. Crystal has been doing this for 20 years and she is highly efficient - I don't even have to leave the house. I just throw a towel over my cat's face like a Columbian kidnapper and bring her into, what she can only perceive to be, the Den of Torture.

As expected, there was much thrashing and deep gutteral growls that came from the bowels of Kitty Hell. I think Simone is a particularly difficult case but Crystal just buzzes on using various tools and devices to complete her task. I love the thoroughness too - the exact line of the booties and the precise poofiness of the lion tail. Simone, once again, now looks like a big rat - albeit, a much happier streamlined rat.

Then, there's the harvest. Last year, ya'll may remember the ridiculous bounty that was my garden. This year, I'm sharing my plot with my neighbors so I may not have so much extra. I granted them the first zuke (they are hard to eat from another city) but I got the second one. Behold, my first home-grown veggie of the year:

I've helpfully placed an egg alongside the monster zuke for you to grasp the sheer girth of this sucker. I feel like a proud mama ... except that I cannot wait to eat my baby. Tonight's the night!

Okay, so this one isn't a summer tradition - yet. Monday night, I was invited to be a guest player with Monkey's Uncle, that other fabulous Denver improv troupe. Okay, so maybe I whined a little to get the invite ("Hooowaaaard! When are you gonna invite meeeeeee?") but the point is, I wormed my little Rodent butt in there with the primates - howzzat for animal imagery?

Lost ...and Found

Now that I've unpacked from my most recent trip, a few troubling facts have surfaced. Well, just one fact, really. I somehow lost several very important items. Namely:

The little super secret thingamajig that keeps me connected to my company network. It's small but mighty; it's basically the key that allows me to work so remotely. And it's gone. I already sent a note to my IT person with the subject line: "Uh-oh."

My corporate credit card. Just went looking for it now and poof! Gone. Cancelling and replacing are easy enough to do but holy cow, what's my problem?

These last two pain me tremendously: I've 'misplaced' (still in denial about it) two very sentimental amber rings - one from my sister-in-law and one from a love, and not just any love - THE love. I am trying not to think about the loss too much and have asked all hosts/hotel management of last week (I slept in five different places last week, counting naps) to please check around. God, I hope they resurface. Why did I bring them? Why didn't I just leave them home? Oh, the pain of regret!

So, just now, I thought to myself, "I'll check in my truck. Maybe I dropped the corp. card when I paid for airport parking." I knelt down deep and looked in all the nooks and crannies. Oh, I found something alright, just not what I was looking for.

When I first moved here two years ago, I took my truck in to be "Colorado-ized" and prepped for the new climate, including snow. When I got my truck back, my security system was gone. I looked everywhere but could not locate the elaborate Scottish dagger (complete with a yellow hard wood sheath) that I kept tucked tightly next to my seat. My plan has always been to use it on a foolhardy carjacker. Sure, he can have the truck but the knife will come with it - upfront. After all these years of monthly payments, it's a matter of principle, dammit.

With the dagger suddenly gone, I could do nothing else but assume that someone at the car shop had swiped it. I even considered calling the manager to complain but instead, opted to just not go back there. Meanwhile, I missed my dagger and longed for its unique and deadly beauty. I hoped no carjacker would come at me as I'd found no suitable replacement - nothing with the flair of the lost weapon.

So, while searching in vain for the card, I spotted the angry King's head of the dagger. Unbelievable! A whole two years later! It must have gotten stuck out of view and been dislodged only recently. So, while the card is long gone, the dagger has returned and I did not come away empty-handed in my search.

Now, if only I can conjure up the rings ....

A Long, Bright Night

(Photo by the very talented Julia Wahl.)

Sure, I was in town for work stuff, the BlogHer convention and a few other social engagements but what I wanted more than anything else, was to see 'The Dark Knight' in IMAX with my favorite movie buddy of all time, James.

And so, we willingly signed up for the 'The Tweaker Screening' at 3:30 a.m. at the SONY Metreon IMAX and made our plans. This required some pre-event napping, the avoidance of alcohol (on a Friday night, no less!), some caffeine and perhaps a few other creative approaches. Best of all, the wild and weird evening all took place under a full moon - perfect conditions for caped crusaders and evil villains.

Luckily, we were able to keep ourselves awake by stopping in to the "Hubba Hubba Revue" at the DNA Lounge, a British-themed showcase of numerous burlesque acts. I wanted to see my old troupe, The Devil-Ettes, perform and see my favorite girls, Jamie Lee (The Assassin) and Baby Doe, (The Hellcat) once again. We saw lots and lots of glittered nipples and twirling pasties. Some acts were better than others. I was especially fond of the "Tit for Tat" act, which had two cute girls with chimney sweeps doing a very proper strip dance. They were so dainty and delicate, even with the 'soot' smudges all over their bodies. Delightful.

Eventually, it was time for the screening and we were beyond ready. Turns out, everyone else was too. There was the cutest scenario when James and I parked the car and scrambled into the elevator, with hyper-joy and nervous energy. We were giggling because we felt like kids.

Then, the elevator stopped at the next floor and another couple came aboard with the same exact look in their eyes. We four just looked at one another and started laughing hysterically and collectively yelled, "WE'RE SO EXCITED!!!!!!" No explanation was needed.

We then joined the long, winding queue and suddenly, it felt like we were at an amusement park and waiting to board a brand new roller coaster. I think others had the same feeling as I saw a few arms go up in the air. The crowd was loud and excitable. We looked like a bunch of 4th graders post-candy - ZOWEEEEE! WHEEE! HEE-HA!!!!

Once in the IMAX theatre, James and I fanned out to find the best seats. He'd picked two way upfront but it was much too close. So, while he held the seats, I went off and with his direction, landed two center seats. Perfect.

Then, we waited.

We were not patient or quiet. The crowd was so amped up, I thought that we were going to start clawing at the screen. At one point, we were doing the wave. People were clapping and stomping their feet: "BAT-MAN! BAT-MAN! BAT-MAN!" I don't recall ever experiencing that kind of mob excitement over a film - any film - in my lifetime. Folks were yelling and screaming - it was a madhouse. I can only imagine the blood level of caffeine, sugar and drugs in that particular audience. I'm just glad we were all there for entertainment reasons. Had been a political protest, cars would have been turned over and set ablaze.

I just remember one guy in particular sitting below me who came straight from the caveman era. He just kept grunting aloud: "MOOOOOOOOOOOOVEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE." And then, a few minutes later, "MOOOOOOOO-VEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!" He was persistent in his protest.

Amongst all this, a odd scenario unfolded. A few people in the audience were watching movies on their laptops while they waited. This led to a great outcry and verbal harassment from the audience. I was even concerned that it might come to blows and they'd have to cancel the screening. James and I could not figure out what the big deal was but it clearly upset some people. Seems to me they were just passing the time but maybe I'm missing something.



ANYWAY, the film finally began and "The Dark Knight" did not disappoint. Ya'll have read the reviews by now and they are accurate. Heath Ledger is beyond creepy and he pretty much owns the film. Every second he's on screen, it's like a drug - you just can't get enough of him. It's more than the melted make-up and the lip licking, his performance is so swift and complete, you can't even recognize the actor. When asked, "Why Heath Ledger as the Joker?" direcotr Christopher Nolan said, "Because he's fearless." Damn straight.

But it's not just Ledger who blows you away. Christian Bale is, in my mind, the best Batman we've ever had. He's tortured and resolute; dark and determined. A big surprise for me was the performance of Aaron Eckhart, who plays a dual role of Harvey Dent/Two-Face. I wasn't expecting to get so much from him but he was intense.

There are two decisions made by director Chris Nolan that made this film so special - beyond cowriting the script with his brother and making brilliant casting choices. First, he shot at least four major sequences in IMAX, giving an amazing depth to some crucial scenes. Secondly, he avoided the use of CGI, unless absolutely necessary, giving the film a true gritty feel. Fans of the original Batman comic books, especially Alan Moore's "Batman: The Killing Joke" and "Arkham Asylum: A Serious House on Serious Earth" will appreciate this effort.

Of course, an indicator of a great film is when an audience spontaneously claps at the end, knowing full well that none of the cast and crew will hear them. Another sign is when most of the audience sits through ALL of the credits until the lights come up. I heard someone lament, "It's over."

Finally, we all stood up and I yelled, "Okay, everybody, back to bed!" A few responded to me bemoaning a different plan, "Man, I gotta go to work now." We walked outside and watched the dawn break over The City. Time for a nap.

BlogHer '08

Right now, I'm in San Francisco, hanging out with 1,100 of my closest blogger friends here at BlogHer 08. I always look forward to this gathering - so much brainy estrogen in one place ... it can be overwhelming.

Business cards are flying back and forth like feathers in a storm.

Lady of the Sea

When Mom and I boarded the Royal Caribbean's "Monarch of the Sea" a few weeks ago, unbeknownst to us, we were crossing paths with history. Turns out, we were in the capable hands of Captain Karin Stahre Janson, the world's first female captain of a major cruise ship - EVER.

I was thrilled when Captain Karin held a champagne reception for all the guests and delivered a funny, warm speech. While she did not speak to her history-making achievement directly, she seemed keenly aware of her place in nautical history. She talked about her early interest in the ocean and the many years of hard work as a deck hand. "I love this life," she gushed.

At 5'11", this 39-year-old Swede is no slouch. Mom and I had our photos taken with her and she towered over us. She mentioned the great majority of males along the way who cheered her on and gladly helped her achieve this position but there was just one old man who chided her ambition: "You should be looking for a husband and making babies." She simply patted him on the head and continued on her path to the helm.

What struck me most about the Captain was her humor and warmth. After her speech, she brought key members of her staff up on stage (including the "Environmental Officer" ...!) and bragged about each person's unique skill. Other cruisers told me that while cruise ship captains often do this, they usually have notes in hand; this Captain needed no prompters. Each word came from the heart and it was easy to see that the gratitude and admiration worked both ways. The Monarch's crew loved their Captain and she loved 'em right back.

When I tell people about Captain Karin, I get the same reaction: "You mean, it's taken this long? It's just happening now???" They were annoyed at some imagined injustice - the 'glass bridge' perhaps.

But from what I gleaned from the Captain's speech, the lack of women in this position is not due to unassailable obstructions or ignorant sexism, it's primarily due to a lack of female interest. Evidently, there's just not a ton of ladies who are dying to be ship captains. Sometimes, my generation gets so used to breaking down walls and resetting expectations, we forget to give the world some credit.

"Like anything, you just have to want it bad enough and then one day, it's yours," she said. Aye, aye, Cap'n!

A Heated Crash

Apologies but I've been experiencing blog-clog lately. It doesn't mean I have nothing to say - unfortunately, I'm rarely at a loss for topics to rant and expand on - it means that other forces have kept me from posting.

For the past few days, it was a dangerous mix of oppressive heat and an unscheduled depression. Both situations are entirely organic but make me simply want to lie down with my mouth open, like a dog or a crocodile.

Despite this urge, it's a better plan to keep my body moving lest I "sink into the oozy tarpits of Hell", to borrow a phrase from my dramatic 7th grade youth.
And so, to fight the Demons, I went running. Then, I groomed and rode a horse until we were both sweaty, filthy and starving. Then, I rode my bike to some bluegrass/ beer fest to meet with friends. Then, I rode my bike around the city some more. Then, I did yoga and watched "Groundhog Day". Then, I watched it again with director's comments "ON" which only exacerbated my my Harold Ramis crush.

Next day, same thing: Jogging, horse time, frantic weed pulling in my garden followed by dinner/ice cream with a friend in the Highlands. This schedule seemed to work. Today, I awoke and feel clear headed and content. Just in time too, as I am leaving for San Francisco in a few hours.

It might just be a matter of racing ahead of the black cloud. Not sure but it's the only plan I've got.

To Do List: Circa 1978

My mother's house is bursting - literally - with memorabilia from the past. It is so full that every once in awhile, the house will burp out some random piece of the past with no warning.

Case in point, when I was at my mother's house last week, she handed me a yellowed piece of paper from my youth and said, "Look what came out from under the guest bed last week!"

On one side, it was a map of Bancroft Jr. High School. I had taken colored markers and carefully mapped out my route, Periods 1-7, in preparation for 7th grade. I didn't want to get lost and look like a dufus, apparently.

On the other side, I'd made a list (which I am famous for) of important things to be done in my 13-year-old life. As usual, I've listed them (misspellings included) in order of urgency:

Rest
Clean room
Do Homework
Excercise (strecth)
Piano
Pick up house

Yessiree. It's good to see that my priorities have not changed. "Rest" still comes waaaay before any silly house cleaning ....

Cruising Report - Part 1

I've returned from my cruising adventure with Iva Mae - pictured here in downtown Ensendada. It was great to have some quality time with Mom and experience new things together. I've got a boat-load (ha!) of photos but here's a quick report.

We met a lot of nice folks and many regular "cruisers" addicted to this mode of travel. I'm 99.9% certain that this is not going to be me. I loved being on the ocean and going to a different country without getting on a plane but there was something about it that felt forcibly planned. I'm not one for big group travel so this was a first for me; overall, I prefer to get dirty when I am on vacation.

The food was great though it often felt like the day's activities were centered around eating. Which brings me to an observation that Mom and I both picked up. There are A LOT of fat people who go on cruises. I don't mean chubby, I mean obese. For some reason, the great majority of them were women and it made me both sad and irritated. I'm not exactly svelte but I try not to take up more than my share of airspace.

One day, we met two very nice ladies who could barely fit in their chairs at lunch. We listened to them complain about how little room they had in their shared stateroom, their bathroom and especially the shower and we could only nod in polite agreement, our eyes wide, just trying to imagine it. When we back to our room, we measured the space, as if we were their size, and tried to maneuver with very uncomfortable results.

Question: How does a person not notice that they are 300+ pounds and then complain that the world is too damn small? I don't get it. Time and again, I watched these people go back to the buffet for more. It was an ugly situation - like a page from Animal Farm.

Ironically, most people get off cruises and feel fat and overstuffed. While Mom and I definitely ate more than usual, we got off that ship feeling pretty damn skinny.

Happy Birthday, America!

Today is the day we put aside all our differences, all our complaints and let the pride take over without reservations. America may not be perfect but I do believe she is the greatest country on Earth and feel extremely lucky to have been born here. At 232 years old, we're young 'uns as countries go but rather hard to ignore. The United States is like the Marlon Brando of nations. And, as my Dad used to say, "Love it or leave it!"

Often, when I was traveling abroad, I would be forced to defend my country. One of my favorite arguments was with a guy in New Zealand who said we were the bullies of the world. I didn't disagree with him per se though I did relish in pointing out that he was wearing Levi's, drinking a Coca-Cola and sitting on a Harley Davidson. I mean, who did he think he was? Marlon Brando?

Quite ironically, I'm celebrating America's birthday by heading to Mexico. In a few hours, I'll board a cruise ship with my mother, Iva Mae. This trip was a long time in the making. For years, I have tried to get my mother to travel with me and for years, she has balked. Time and time again, she'd put me off with her infamously non-committal line: "We'll see."

I finally realized that I'd been aiming too high with pitches like, "Let's go to Scotland and locate our ancestors!" and "Peru! I've always wanted to see Peru!" Since my mother has never been out of North America, such crazy plans scared her off. And since I have a reputation for rough-and-ready travel, I think she was afraid I would make her sleep in the dirt and climb a mountain or something.

So, we're starting small. A very simple three-day cruise to Ensendada, Mexico. We leave in a few hours from San Pedro so she didn't even have to get on a plane. And, since she has feet trouble, I assured her that our ample butts could stay continuously parked on a deck lounge chair, if that's what she wanted. No pressure to explore, walk to or do anything extra. This approach seemed to work.

She is now standing behind me, packing excitedly for our first official mother-daughter sea-faring adventure: "Hmmmm ... I wonder if this 'cover-up' covers up enough?.... I hear they have a casino on board ... Will this jacket be too warm?... Oh, I need my curling iron ...Make-up! I still have to pack my make-up!"

Happy Fourth of July, everyone!

Fox News Uglifies New York Times Reporters

(This is a cross-post from my regular BlogHer gig.)

Talk about desperate. Like a jealous schoolgirl armed with a Sharpie, Fox News has now taken to wielding a Photoshop sword against those that might reveal its shortcomings. As reported by those helpful rascals at Media Matters, the nimrods over at 'Fox & Friends' recently did a segment called "Attack Dogs" that brought the network - unbelievably - to a new low.

In the segment, co-hosts Steve Doocy and Brian Kilmeade labeled New York Times reporter Jacques Steinberg and editor Steven Reddicliffe "attack dogs," insisting that Steinberg's June 28 article, which notes an "ominous trend" in Fox News' ratings was a "hit piece." The segment included photos of Steinberg and Reddicliffe that were quite obviously altered to make both men appear, well, uglier and most definitely, wormier.

Their teeth had been yellowed, their features exaggerated, and portions of Reddicliffe's hair moved further back on his head. They added some pretty obvious dark circles under both sets of eyes implying ...uh ...sleeplessness due to an all-night porn habit? Dunno. Naturally, Fox News never mentions any of these alterations to their audience.

Fox News - what the hell is your problem? Were you invisible in high school? Picked on at Christian camp? Did you not get to go to the prom? Did you have an older sibling who stole food off your plate? Did you sit on the bench time after time and not get in the game? Is this why you feel the need to show the bodies of suicide victims and mess with faces of real journalists?

Using Photoshop to mislead the public has been much-discussed here at BlogHer and in the wider blogosphere but I'd naively assumed the issue would remain mostly in the fashion world - a wildly successful publishing conspiracy to make us ladies feel fat and ugly.

But grown 'newsmen' pulling such catty stunts? Men - with jobs and ties and everything? Wow. What's next? Will they be putting cayenne powder in Arianna's eye shadow? Telling everyone in the quad that Maureen Dowd is a slut? Talking behind my back at Tommy's party on Saturday? This is exactly the type of stuff that makes writers for 'The Onion' and 'The Daily Show' clap their hands in glee. Unknowingly, the Fox morons are not practicing journalism but merely providing some very healthy seeds of satire.

Speaking of caricatures, I'm being extremely generous here by not even mentioning the fact that F&F also pasted the doctored photo of Steinberg over the body of a poodle. Oops. I mentioned it. Apparently, these snively little weasels have not emotionally matured beyond junior high school. What's next? Water balloons? Ding-dong ditch 'em? These are the type of idiots that would have given Edward R. Murrow a wedgie, given the opportunity.

Some observations out in the blogosphere on this pathetic incident:

Endi Thinks: "Fox News is almost an oxymoron."

Terry Ann Online: "This isn't journalism anymore."

KabobFest was the kindest of all in their post, "Faux News' fauxtography":

"For the sake of Murdoch's wallet, let's hope they can find a Lynndie England-type of intern to blame for those crappy photoshop skillz."

LAME.

View the entire whiny-schoolboy segment here:

Melted love

Little known fact: Underneath my tough ClizBiz exterior, I'm all squishiness and love underneath, especially when it comes to animals.

For every angry blog post on HuffPo I read, I must balance it with visits to Cute Overload and ICanHasCheezburger. Somewhere along the way, I caught this video today and I just melted all over my keyboard. Someone hand me a tissue!