Don't mind me

My husband finally ordered some Nespresso capsules.


He had this machine when I met him. You know, back when I first discovered he had a secret cabinet.


Don't you all just love Monster Garage
(I know, it seems so out of character).


But anyone who makes sweet toys, gets my vote.


So, back to the capsules. We've been out for about, oh, two visits to the cabin. So my husband got on the ball and ordered some up for me last night. Of course, that dream became a nightmare when he informed me that George Clooney is now a spokesperson for the company.


I'd say something stupid like, "Oh great, now they pay him extra to be even more arrogant (if that's possible). But then I thought, my husband and I have searched high and low for matching sets of these cups. He initially bought a standard set of four, back when he was just fiddling with the idea of rubbing elbows with his hot espresso-loving wife, someday.

And since we're not the dinner party-throwing types (and never will be), our only concern is, "what if one of these gets broken?" As is often a concern of parents who invest their lives in children instead of high society.

But alas, don't want to insult the prick (George, not my husband), he may have connections. And I do know he must know Julia Roberts, and I obviously respect her (can't act for the life of her, but she does clean her own house).

And consequently, some of these folks may claim to know Angelina (on a good day), and if Tim Gunn says she's got the best style he's seen in two centuries (hey, if you're gunna go throwin' sturm and drang around), then count me in for the next yacht party.

But only if I happen to pass you at Sundance this November, when I'm celebrating my ELEVENTH anniversary (you know me and elevens) with my husband. God better make sure none of my cups break in my luggage, 'cause when my husband finds out he's getting not just two sets, but three...

...well, you'll just have to wait 'til Christmas to hear the rest of that bugger, won't ya?