Kargaret Kay-Kardashian

I'm seriously considering buying something from the Kardashian Kollection. The Winter 2014 line.

Although the rational part of my brain says,"Don't give them any money! They don't need it!" and "You have neither the body nor the occasion for a black jumpsuit with a mesh and velvet-lined sweetheart neckline", the emotional, Sasha Fierce part of my brain thinks WHY NOT?!

With a bit of bronzer, some fake lashes and a leather bodycon dress, I could rule the world.

Actually, my feeling toward the Kardashians' winter collection is a microcosm of my feelings toward the ladies in general. Intellectually, I'm against them. Spiritually, they are my soul sisters. Fellow goddesses of sultry, Armenian beauty. Audacious in their fashion choices, unapologetic for their fame.

Do the stuffed leopards and white ukeleles come with the dress, or do you have to buy those separately?

Siiiigh. I've had a busy day of work, and staring at this screen is making my eyes hurt. Although I could write a dissertation on my complex feelings about the Kardashians, it's probably best if I refrain and direct you to my #TurkeyHat giveaway instead.

If you haven't entered for a chance to win the fantastic piece Thanksgiving garb, do it now! You only have until Saturday morning (Edinburgh time). Don't let his opportunity pass you by!

There will be a better blog tomorrow—I promise!

Love,
Margaret

Confessions of a Forearm Flexer

It's Sunday evening, I'm watching Return of the Jedi and flexing my forearms like a mad woman.

I managed to keep my obsessive forearm flexing to myself for many years. It's an urge that can be satisfied quickly and discretely. A simple fling back and forth of the wrist is all it takes. Or, for an extra deep stretch, I'll just extend my arm out straight and curl my fist inward for a firm three seconds.

No one has ever really noticed it - until now.

Yep, Andy is on to me. He pointed out my forearm flexing a while back and gets enormous pleasure from impersonating me. When he notices me doing it, he immediately starts flapping his wrists and moving his face muscles up and down like crazy (apparently I sometimes do an eye-roll/face stretch at the same time as flexing my forearms).

In the spirit of confessing, here are a few other things I'm willing to admit to on this 21st July 2013. As Usher would croon, these are my confessions:

1. Return of the Jedi is mostly terrible and I HATE the ewoks.
2. 50% of the time I prefer powdered Parmesan cheese to the freshly grated variety.
3. I'm off diet coke (if I announce it here publicly, it will keep me strong).
4. I like golf.
5. The only thing better than a night out with friends is a night spent alone with a reality TV show and some pretzels.

In other news, Seattle is only about a month away! Let the countdown begin!

Not only will it be wonderful to watch Max/Natalie and Jody/Anton get married (reminds me, gotta send back the RSVP cards), but it will also be wonderful to sit outside on the deck and eat fudgesicles in the K-town sunshine. Not to mention salted almonds, giant Nash's carrots and gut brot.

Until next time,

Margaret

P.S. To all the Brits in the audience wondering 'what is a fudgesicle?' - my heart aches for you.