Sadie's big debut

Okay, so maybe it's not that big, but Sadie's picture is being used on a hip little Austin pet store's website. http://www.austinloftydog.com/index.shtml

Dear Princess Tawanda:

It has been brought to my attention yet again that I'm too awesome to date. I'm too good, yet again, for another man in my life. Don't misinterpret...these are not my words. I don't believe that I'm too 'outstanding' - too 'successful' - too much of a 'bad ass' - too 'strong' - or 'too good' for anyone. Who knew when I was a little girl my Daddy should have told me to tone down my awesomeness or I'd grow up to be a beautiful, lonely woman. Shame on him.

Surely I'm not alone.?.? I can't be the baddest mother fucker out there, can I? (I felt sure Oprah Winfrey or Ana Kournikova would hold said title.) When I finish writing this I'm going to Wikipedia myself. As I'm told, the first word I'll find next to my name is outstanding. Following that will be amazing, intelligent, the smartest person he knows (granted, I'm not so sure that one will stand up in a court of law), confident, hilarious, interesting, beautiful and the ability to make him putty in my hands (that one is kind of fun). If that's the case, I'll accept my reign as baddest mother fucker on the planet and wear my crown with pride. I guess it really is lonely at the top.

Wait a minute...Does this mean I can finally register at Nordstrom's and be the one receiving the party and lavish gifts for the first time in my life?!?! Hmmmm. Maybe this isn't so bad after all.

My dearest, thank you for letting me bend your ear. And my apologies on the infrequency of my correspondence. You know it's hard out here for a pimp.

Your gracious and loving pen-pal,
Anna Danna

Holiday - Amsterdam - Part II

My apologies to Shanda for the delay in sharing this post. I've been too busy playing the role of important marketing executive and all-around mover and shaker. I vow to be better.

Now...for the rest of the story. And, I'm making this more photo montage, less words...because frankly I don't remember a lot.

Leslie, Tayar and I bellied up to a little bar to thaw out and formulate a plan. There we met Terrence, the sweet, young bartender who gave us the clif's notes on public transportation and the fastest route to the red light district.
Our first stop in the red light district was, you guessed it, a coffee shop. Tayar and I tasted the local fare and the rest is history.

Stoner's Paradise
More local fare...
C-Team Sex Show...To protect the innocent I'll tell you the story in person.
Followed by the A-Team Sex Show across the canal...more stories I will not put in print (until I publish my book).

I don't have a picture of our cab driver that got arrested for hitting a bike cop with his car. It all happened so fast I didn't dare reach for my camera when they began pepper spraying him in the face and bitch slapping him out of the cab. I also failed to capture a hot pic of Leslie pushing the police chief in the chest asking him, "Does that hurt? 'Cuz that's how hard the car hit her." *sigh* I miss all the good stuff.

When No One Is Looking

I dance and jump around the kitchen singing to Sadie that "I can have wine if I want to...I'm a grown-up."

skype me? skype you!

I typed this while being entertained by two of my best friends last night. It doesn't matter how old they get, boys will be boys.

Willie: (looking at Carl) He's got good ass soccer ass legs. Look at these legs. Do the leg thing.

Carl: What? (flexing with the foot twist) That right there? I've got soccer legs for sure.

Willie: (looking at self) These legs are actually pretty good. I can't even tell you how many compliments I've had on these ankles. (running in place)

Carl: Is he double-dutching? What is that? Kolo can do it.

(Willie's dog Sydney begins humping Carl..Carl humps her back)

*sigh*

I'm sitting on the porch in my white ski jacket missing the wolf pack.

Holiday - Amsterdam - Part I

The morning started off a little rocky. I was ready to roll before Tayar and Leslie so I went out to buy us coffee before we took a car to the airport. I asked the little old woman at the counter if they had take away cups (nobody knows what to go cups are in London...or A'dam or Dublin for that matter). I mean honestly, how can you NOT understand that. I understand take away cup. Why can't you understand to go cup. Irritating as hell...but I digress. The sweet little lady said 'yes' so I ordered the lattes. When she handed me the three small styrofoam cups I noticed the lids didn't have that little perforated peel back area to drink through. The lattes were cheap. It was early. She was old. I didn't have the strength to complain. I brought them back to my travel companions only to get an earful of shit about the lids. Leslie spilled 75% of her latte on herself, Tayar and the car on the way to the airport. By the time we arrived at Heathrow she and Tayar smelled like a Starbucks and were as sticky as a couple of barefooted kids at the Wrath of God HEB.

They got cleaned up, we made it through security and found our gate. We were perplexed to find that not only did our gate have doors, but said doors were also locked. We hung outside the locked doors for 30 minutes and scarfed down convenient store sandwiches (perfect for a hangover, disgusting if you're sober). Airline personnel in funny top hats finally let us in and we took a seat in the waiting room (which had seating for approximately 200 people - so why in the hell were we locked out for so long with no place to sit??? It was really strange.). Tayar and I sat down beside each other, Leslie across from us. In my peripheral vision I noticed Jesus' doppleganger approaching. (Jesus' doppleganger was headed to A'dam? I guess it only makes sense that Jesus' doppleganger likes to party. I wondered if we'd see him in a coffee shop later that day smoking hash. We didn't. Two thumbs down.) I knew Leslie noticed him, too. We had a conversation about it without saying a word. Those are the best, aren't they?!?
After a short 50 minute flight (power nap) we arrived in A'dam. Contrary to popular belief, the first item on the agenda was a trip to the Anne Frank House.

Anne received a diary on her 13th birthday where she began writing her deepest of thoughts. The profound insight that little girl had about humanity is truly staggering. She gave the diary to her father every evening for safe keeping. He promised to never read it...and he didn't until after her death. During the tour there was a video clip of Otto, Anne's father, discussing his feelings after reading the diary. He spoke of the wonderful relationship he always had with Anne and the discussions they would have. He knew she was a smart child and believed he was close to her, but upon reading the entries of Anne's diary he came to the conclusion that parents never truly know their children. The idea, of course, saddened him. I walked out of the AFH with tears in my eyes. In the grand scheme of things, I guess nobody ever truly knows anybody else. Those deepest of feelings, fleeting thoughts and crazy ideas that we keep to ourselves are part of what defines us as people. Sharing those things would make us more vulnerable than we already are. Hell, I censor myself on my own blog that I'm not sure anybody reads. The idea that no one will ever truly know me...all of me...feels lonely.

If you've never read The Diary of Anne Frank, read it. If you read it when you were in high school, I encourage you to read it again. Her thoughts and ideas are light years ahead of her time and wise beyond her years. That's powerful stuff.

It took a 20 minute, freezing-cold walk to shake off the heaviness of that experience and jump back into my party pants. The rest of my time in A'dam is a bit of a blur. I'll try to get a grasp of what happened via pictures and get back with you soon.