Why him?

Whenever I hear Springsteen, I think of Trooper. I have no idea why, but just his music makes me think of Trooper and I have to smile. Maybe because the day I decided to tell him he curled my toes, I heard the song "Back in your Arms Again" by The Boss and now every time I hear Springsteen, I think of Trooper.

Trooper is so.... good. He's solid. He's so strong. He's brilliant- smart, the type of smart that leaves me awe struck. He's practical. He's fearless. He's sexy. He's humble, kind and generous. He's... earthy? No, that makes him sound all granola- tree hugger like and he's not. He just... masculine. He's sure of himself. He can build a house, fix a car, hunt animals, and chop wood with an axe. He's a MAN. And that. is. so. hot.

Here's my realization. Follow me if you will. I always thought I wanted someone in my life who wished on falling stars. While I don't believe it's going to make my wishes come true, I still do it. I like the whimsy behind that idea, and what if it did come true! Enchanted is the word, I think. So I always thought I wanted a guy who wished on stars because that might mean he's got that side of him that lets him wish on stars. Now, Trooper doesn't wish on stars. But what I do KNOW about him is this: he doesn't care that I wish on stars; actually, he thinks it's sweet, and he would never burst my bubble of that silly little wish- he understands. So I guess what I really wanted was not necessarily a man who wished on stars, but let me wish on them, with a smile on his face.

Staying with my star analogy I also know he can see stars in a crowded city. He can close his eyes or even gazing into the city cluttered sky, he can still see our Wild West sky anywhere he is. I do that, too. I drive out in the country here in Civilization and though I can't see nearly as many stars as I could in the Wild West, I can still see them. We are very much alike in many ways.

He makes me want to be a better woman,
Maggie

Retail Therapy Day 1- Feelin' love for the Dollar Tree

I was actually working on a post where I was going to proclaim my love for Dollar Tree. It's been sitting in my drafts folder for a bit when I was surfing my blog favs and over at Little Pink Magnolia she also professed her love of this saving store! I thought maybe I should declare July "Dollar Tree" month in honor of such a great store!

I love to go there for... well, for everything. I've found ultra low cut socks there, which are perfect for the type of Sketcher tennis shoes I wear. And these socks are just darling, with fun and cute pictures on them, like slices of pizza or hearts or flowers or even a pair with pink flamingos. I also love to buy balloons and gift bags at the dollar tree- beautiful gift bags in ANY size, including huge, which are usually about 5 bucks at Wally World or 9 bucks at the Hallmark shop are ONLY 1 DOLLAR!

This is the perfect place to indulge my sweet tooth because they sell the movie theater sized boxes of candy there- I can get my fill of Sugar Babies, Junior Mints, Sweet Tarts for Mac, and a plethora of other goodies.

This is the best place to get cleaning products and if you keep your eyes open you can actually find name brand cleaning supplies. And that's the spendy stuff when at any other store so I try and get my 409, Dawn Dish Soap, toilet cleaner and Comet (or Spic n Span) at the Dollar Tree.

As a teacher, I go nuts there right before schools tarts. I stock up on pencils, paper and pens for my classroom. I decided it's not a battle worth fighting and if a student would show up sans notebook or writing implement, I would furnish it. Hey, I can get 24 pencils for a dollar- I'd rather take those few minutes I would spend reprimanding a child for being unprepared, and use them to say... TEACH stuff! And I get stickers there to put on students papers all school year long. (Yes, I put stickers on HS kids' papers. I just do it. mac's fault. Post for another time!)

And I could go on and on and on about all the scrapbook stuff at Dollar Tree- stickers, paper, pens, stamps- everything for the scrapbooker and I am one of those so I like to pick up stuff for my hobby cheaply and this is a good place to do it.

Curley, Daddy-O, Mac and I like to go to the Dollar Tree to just walk around and look to see what stuff they have. the stock changes all the time. One time we might find a beautiful set of coffee mugs and another time we find statues of Golden Retriever puppies with wings and another may have us in an aisle looking at 300 foam cones in all sizes... now, I never usually buy any of those things (I am so not even going into it about the dogs with wings... I mean, really, seriously, do I even NEED to?) but it's still fun to look and be shocked at what sort of tchotchke will be out.

And it's a great place to get holiday themed decorations and paper goods and party stuff. You want pink paper plates, for example, this is the place to get them, and get them cheap!

When I lived in the Wild West, I was about 3.5 hours from the nearest Dollar Tree and I can't believe I actually survived without it. I go at least twice a week now! It's like... crack! Or coffee! Or sho shopping- okay, wait, not like shoes! And since I still don't have a full time job (Okay will someone in bloggerville hire me to do something PLEASE? I'll even move, at this point. As long as there's a Dollar Tree!) this is the perfect place for me to indulge my shopping needs and worship the shopping goddess. Wanna see a picture? Click here!

Can you believe I actually got a pair of orange flip-flops there, that have a large white Daisy on the toe, and white polka dots?!? Shoes at the Dollar Tree! FOR A DOLLAR?!? Ah, what bliss is this!

Will buy almost anything for a buck,
Mags

He could never be my enemy!

Since I morphed from my previous blogger persona into Maggie, many readers here at "shoes/purse" may not know the extent of my devotion to Johnny Depp. I am a fan. Not a wacko have his posters hanging on my walls at age 37 and write him fan mail sort of wacko, not a stalk him sort of wacko, but I am a huge fan. I think the man is talented and his body of work shows his vast talent and the fact he never sticks to a certain "type" of character. He's not afraid to take cinematic risks. I think he's made some crappy films, but I still think he is one talented man. And he's beautiful. Handsome. Sexy. Passionate. And well.... :ahem: I am a huge JD fan. So...


Last night was the opening day, or public premiere, of Public Enemies, the biopic John Dillinger film starring- OMG- Johnny Depp!

And this was a great film. I was impressed. Well acted, well shot, well... just well everything, except for 2 very bad lines of dialogue that weren't really "bad" dialogue, but really didn't fit the time period. Otherwise, this was a fabulous film. And I was thrilled that I went to the latest viewing which didn't end until 1am.


Americans are fascinated with gangster movies- we have an ongoing love affair with everything mobster. And this movie would just romance ya right to death. From the zoot suits and car running boards, to the Tommy guns and music, this movie had it all. It was a perfect period piece with lots of action, a little romance, and some perfect Johnny Depp.

This was also shot in high def video giving it sometimes a grainy handheld camera feel, which I think was apropos for the time period. Sort of gritty, which worked. Director Michael Mann made a good movie. Only in America do we take a man that J. Edger Hoover declared as "Public Enemy Number One" and walk out of the theater feeling sad about this demise. It could be because Johnny Depp was that Public Enemy, and men and women alike appreciate the actor, or it could be because it was just a great movie. (Depp is far better looking than real life Dillinger ever was!)


I have no idea how much artistic liberty was taken with the life of Dillinger in making this film. I don't know much about him, and that really didn't matter to me. Sometimes I just want to go see a film purely to be entertained and this did entertain me. Major stuff wasn't changed, I know: Dillinger is a bank robber being hunter by the FBI- led by Melvin Purvis (played by Christian Bale. Does this guy EVER smile? In real life even?). Dillinger did other bad stuff. They got him. Okay, that's true enough and all the filler in between? Well, let's say it makes a good story no matter what. This isn't research- it's a movie, for fun!


I know lots of people are panning this film, but I personally enjoyed it, recommend it and think there lots worse ways of spending 2 hours and 23 minutes.

What I'd rather be doing

I'd love to be waking up in the late morning or early afternoon, rare sunshine streaming in the room, peaking in around the closed curtains, find its niche to wake me up. I would turn to Sam, and snuggle against his still sleeping form, quietly talking when he wakes up and then making love. Afterward we would lay entwined together, and we would talk and whisper and laugh like only lovers can, pillow talk that only make sense to those laying there together.

I would try to leave our bed but he would spoon me, and hold me and say to stay and sleep a little longer... even though it was already 1 o'clock in the afternoon. We were such lazybones because we drifted into sleep at 4 o'clock that same morning, after talking and laughing and kissing and not wanting to give in to our bodies demands that we must sleep, not wanting to stop sharing what precious time we had left together, not ready to give in to the sleepy monster, even though we would be sleeping side by side.

Finally I would wriggle out of his grasp, claiming I would have to "pee", and he would let me go, but I would cheat and use my escape to shower and dress and be ready to go out, for Mother Nature was giving Dublin a much needed gift of sunshine, no clouds, just light and warmth. I would sneak back to bed and nuzzle Sam's neck, cajoling him to wake up and go out with me, but he wanted.... no needed, more sleep.

So I would leave him a hastily scribbled note taped to the bathroom vanity where I knew he would find it and I would hit the city. My intention would be to go to "Fresh", the market near the flat, but the sunshine would draw me further into the city. I would desire to be outside, to be part of the alive bustle of the city. I would shed my coat and walk along the now familiar route, the now familiar cobblestone way, enjoying the sounds of the city which had been awake far longer than I. I would cut over to amble along next to the Liffey, loving the irony of the still waters parallel to the flowing and frantic traffic. Finally, I would arrive at Bewley's, a coffeehouse and cafe Sam had introduced me to, and then I would get a mocha and a pastry and sit outside at one of the small sidewalk tables. I would watch the people and giggle at the tourists, even though, I guess, I would technically be such. I would read a book I had tucked into my bag, or the newspaper someone left on the table, and drink my coffee, and smoke Sam's cigarettes, enjoying the thrill of the moving city that I can be part of, of the outdoors that comes with being in a city, of the quaint appeal of it, feeling so metropolitan and European in my monochrome attire.

My mobile would jingle and it would be Sam, asking where I was. He said he would join me, for this is a wondrous place that he showed me and became one of my favourite Dublin haunts- he's a fan too. He would arrive in an hours time, and bend to kiss my offered lips, tasting of minty toothpaste and tobacco. I would wave him into the empty seat opposite me, and I'd push my way through the crowd to get him a double shot espresso, and a pastry, that I knew if I asked nicely, he would share with me. We would sit companionably, mostly quiet, together in the sidewalk cafe, sharing random comments about passersby, smoking, and just enjoying being together- me letting him still wake up and let his body come into tune with the city's movement, and to tune in to mine, waiting patiently until we were humming along at the same pace.

We would take our leave and meander about, winding our way to St. Stephens Green, strolling through the park, hand in hand, chatting and laughing. The sunshine would still be a gift to us and we would sit on the grass, his head curled in my lap and we would soak up the sun. We would watch the people. We would watch a group of teens play a casual and silly game of football, the catcalls and jeers to each good naturedly ringing out. As the shadows of dusk would start to fall, we would decide to walk more, talk more, stopping in the middle of the sidewalk to kiss, and wouldn't seem to stop.

As the cool darkness of the evening would settle around us, I would pull on my coat and Sam would take stock of where we have walked and then we would head to the Library Pub for pints. We would sit in the cozy chairs and watch the street below, sipping our ale and sharing contentment. We would leave and find dinner on the way back to the flat, kabobs or sushi at some place Sam knows, and then maybe go to the Celt, a pub he enjoys, for more pints, for more conversation, for more kisses, for more laughs, for more 'together'.

And then in the darkness of the city, we would leave, take a cab, holding hands and between whispers, kiss in the shadows of the bask seat like teenagers, would go back to his flat and just be together, again fighting the sleep we know we must partake in, just to enjoy a few more minutes, a few more seconds, together.

That's what I'd rather be doing today...

Obviously Missin' Sam,
Maggie

What's doin' with Sam

Things with Sam are still good. We had an awkward adjustment period for several days when I got back. We are the King and Queen of bad timing. He got deathly ill in Milan and stayed sick when I left- high fever, stuffy nose, cough, congestion, aches, pains... and he has asthma so a small head cold turns into a major ordeal.

He also learned on St. Pat's Day that his job might be downsized into- no job. So the day before I leave we're dealing with me leaving and the emotional roller coaster that is taking us on, him ill and him in danger of no job, and his grandfather here in the States who practically raised him was hospitalized. Again, can we say Bad Timing?

And really, when we got back from Milan, neither he nor I thought I would actually be leaving until tomorrow- yes March 26- we had just planned to move my ticket to then. We had decided I should stay longer and when we got back to his flat he was going to go online and change my ticket. Except when he went to do it, the ticket prices had sky rocketed since he ordered mine. We would've had to pay the difference in ticket prices and a fee, making the price $300, While I have no job and that he was just informed that he could be loosing his job, we decided that I should probably go home. He also did some research and found that for under $300 in 5 weeks I can come back... damn the pricing around St. Patrick's Day!

The first 5 days after I left were terrible. He was sick and all he wanted to do was sleep when he got home. He had to go to work with all the pressure on maybe not having a job so he was exhausted and ill, and most certainly not in the mood for our late night chats. He was stressed and edgy. I think we talked a grand total of 20 minutes in the 5 days I got back. So of course, being a woman with PMS, having just left the man she loved, the jet lag and the stress of LIFE, I assumed he was blowing me off and the last 2 months had been a lie.

The long and the short of it was that we finally had a "come to Jesus" meeting and cleared the air. He explained all the work stuff- and had the bad news that San Fran is up in the air- he was afraid I would throw a fit (baggage from his ex wife makes him think I'll going to throw a hissy fit rather than understand he may not even have a job that takes him to San Fran, let alone me being there with him...story for later!). His asthma was acting up and he was still sick. And he missed me. He was mad at himself for not paying the ticket price to come back. He was mad at himself that he wasn't sure when we would see each other again and he wants to have a plan. He hates that I'm not there. He misses me and is frustrated because of that.

Geez, he should've told me all that in the first place!

So, all is well now. He's feeling better. His company owner is coming to Dublin tomorrow and he should have job answers. He also has a plan of when we'll meet with or without a job. His grandfather is better, fine and home. *Exhale a deep breath*

The Big Boss is coming in sometime today. Sam said he might have to take the guy out for a pint- that doesn't sound too much like getting laid off... but he said you never know in this business. the guy you drink with the night before can sack you in the morning without batting an eye. If he can just go home after work tonight without having to play host, he and I have a phone date to watch... hang on, lemme give you the background story on this...

Okay, we both love to watch the TV show The West Wing. He worked in the Clinton White House so he has a special affinity for the show. I love the show because it's just great. Aaron Sorkin is a brilliant writer and that show, for the first 5 seasons is smart and quick and just a pleasure to watch. (Funny the little things we have in common). Sam doesn't have a TV so while I was there, sometimes we would just curl up on the couch at 2 am and watch an episode or two of West Wing on DVD on his laptop. It was sweet. Now, there's an episode in Season 3 called "Dead Irish Writers" which is one of Sam's favorite episodes. I have missed that one- and come on, the irony of Irish writers, I love Irish writers, he lives in Ireland...so...

Tonight Sam and I have a date to watch "Dead Irish Writers" on DVD- me on my lap top here in Civilization and him in Dublin on his laptop. (Sam owns the series on DVD and Guard and Booknut owns it here, so I borrowed their copy). We can both watch and talk. Yeah, I won't be curled up in his arms with my head on his chest, but we can still watch together. It's funny the concessions you figure out when you have a long distance relationship.

Hurdle jumping,
Maggie



Across the Pond pictures

I could use some suggestions

I want to bring Sam a nice gift next week. And I have no idea what... I have to battle customs so a nice bottle of wine is out. And I want to do something fun but clever and whimsical and not trite...

So... I was thinking about a desk compass, engraved- but is that too... I dunno, businessy? I also was thinking of a copy of either War and Peace or Ana Karenina- both by Tolstoy- an antique, leather bound copy if I could find one- would go along with our running joke and could be cute. But I'm not sure about either.

I'm open to suggestions... any thoughts?

I go nuthin',
Mags

Another Sam story...I know, I'm making you all sick

Sam and I talk on the phone every night, as I think I've mentioned. And we've talked on the phone every night since that's all we have- that and Instant Messaging plus emails. All telecommunication mediums. I don't think I've ever loved technology so much.

We talk every night. We revel in the chaos that is our lives and how to blend us together over the thousands of miles and the Pond that separates.

S0, yes we talk every night- usually a few hours, until the wee hours of the morning in Ireland, when he should be in bed sleeping, but instead he's telling me anything and everything just mere hours before he needs to get up and go to the office. We whisper secrets into the dark, share our fears and thoughts about everything, we share our past lives, our desires, wants, needs, and play 'what if' with our future, our stories, and many many laughs. We just click, in a strange way that is so very good. And he's quoted some movie (neither of us can remember which one- When Harry Met Sally?!) because he said it sums up how he feels very well. He said he likes that he wants my voice to be the last one he hears at night before he sleeps... and he can't wait until it's the first one he hears in the morning... Oh my. Oh my oh my oh my.

Sam went to Amsterdam this weekend for business. Well, Friday and Saturday were in Amsterdam for pleasure- a mini vacation- and then Sunday until Wednesday are business in a town about 30 minutes outside of the city. And while in Amsterdam, he is enjoying... a particular offering of the city which is legal. He also told me that he MUST keep conversations on Sunday through Tuesday nights brief so he can get some sleep and be at the top of his game for business with potential new clients. Now, to recap the weekend talks: our conversation on Friday was brief; he booked my ticket and we chatted about his trip and my upcoming visit and the wonders of the State Department and my First Passport Ever. Saturday afternoon he called and it was... a brief conversation, which made me laugh and he doesn't remember.

Then there was Sunday night's phone call. Or shall I say calls? He called and I wasn't near my phone and he left a delightful message. (Some of you who've known me for a loooong time will get the ironic humour here.) He said "I'm in The Middle of Fucking Nowhere, Holland and have no Internet and no cell service. I'll try back in a half hour. If you want to call me, here's my hotel phone number and room number..." He called a second time and again, I missed the call- Mac and I were playing music in the car way too loudly. That message said, "Sorry I missed you again. If you get this message in the next 10 minutes, give me a call." This one came in about... 1:45 AM his time. I missed the 10 minute window so I figured I was just out a phone call from him, for the first time in over a month, damn it!

Ah, but I was wrong... he called me at 2 am his time. Because he missed talking to me before bed time. Because the weekend didn't allow for our regular phone call routine. Because he has it bad for me. Because he doesn't sleep as well if he doesn't chat with me before bed. Because of me. I couldn't stop smiling because it was 2 am in the morning, he was seeing clients at 7 am and he missed me, wanted to hear the sound of my voice. Even though he told me last week we couldn't have a late night chat, he still called me. He likes me, he really likes me! This boy has it BAD!!!!

Shhhhhhhhhhhhhhh, don't tell, but guess what? So do I!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Somebody likes me lots,
Maggie

Anyone want to hear a happy Valentine's day story?

Last night I had a phone date with Sam. We decided we would set a time and just talk until one of us was ready to fall asleep.

We talked for several hours and we each drank a bottle of wine. This is an interesting way to get to know each other because it's all about talking and sharing. We can't kill time with a movie or doing stuff- we are getting to know each other since we're a continent apart, separated by an ocean. We talk just about every day, every night.

It was funny because last night we concluded that we've told each other stuff that we haven't ever told other people, which is cool, and scary. We laugh LOTS and tell stories. We debate politics, talk about the news, films, books, our lives. We giggle and sigh and are often times very stupid and teenage like. We talk jobs and families.

And since we actually had a date, we were sweet and silly and just relaxed. It was our Valentine's Day since we couldn't be together, we did our own thing.

Background so what he did makes sense: Sam moved to Ireland for... a change in life. He asked his wife of 10 years for a divorce and then got the heck out of dodge. He was sick of working in a Bush DC and thought he would just flee the country and do something he always wanted- live internationally. The time was right, the job offer was irresistible and he went. He, of course, had no idea he would meet an American still in the States that he was "intrigued" by and that he found "beautiful, smart, charming, sexy, smarmy when necessary, and witty." <-- That's me he's talking about!!!! I understand him, I "get" this, wanderlust??? I mean, does this guy sound like anyone we know- maybe some crazy girl who moved to the Wild West to teach school??? Hmmmmmm? Anyone? Anyone?

So... here we are, with a Pond between us, feeling a bit melancholy and whimsical, on the eve of Valentine's Day, having a silly phone date, chatting in the darkness, drinking our wine when he gave me a Valentine's gift. He... well... he... sang to me. He had a beautiful voice, with some classical training thrown in, and he... he put a head set on (phone) and grabbed his guitar and sang and played me a song. The. Most. Romantic. Thing. In. History. O.M.G!!!!!! Yes, schmaltzy. Yes, you can't believe it and I know Farrago is rolling his eyes and throwing up in the back of his mouth a little bit. BUT-- it was charming, sweet, perfect. I... I... and it gets BETTER. He picked a song. And had to learn it for this occasion. And I'm putting the lyrics (and a youtube video) here because, well, because he's a guy who picked this particular song. Oh hell, I'm not gonna spell it out- just read the words, and it will make sense. "It's a Long Way Back Home" by BNL.

My dear Goddess, help me, help us all because... I like him; I really like him.... Oh dear. Oh dear... Can a phone date be one of the best dates ever?

Happy *Heart* Day! Love and kisses,
Maggie

It's a long way back home
to pack up and leave again
Together alone
You without me again

It's a long way back home
and a long way back here again
I should have known
That you would just bleed again

For the first time I knew what to do
The first time it's just me and you
and then the worst timing I ever knew
I have to go
I already know

It's a long way back home
To feel like I'm far away
How should I know
What goes on here anyway?

For the first time I knew what to do
The first time it's just me and you
and then the worst timing I ever knew
I have to go
I already know

Why not spend a week on a star
No time, he can't get there by car
When we get some time on our own
We'll plan our next year alone

It's a long way back home
from just about anywhere
'Cause once through the door
I'm not even halfway there

For the first time I knew what to do
The first time it's just me and you
and then the worst timing I ever knew
I have to go
I already know

It's a long way back home