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Eileen M. O'Connell‏@i_Lean

By confessing that I've never been to Olive Garden, I am also confessing that I never went on a date in high school

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THE WORLD NEEDS MORE PROBLEM SOLVERS.

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LIFELONG FRIENDS: CRAZY LEOPARDS

Today I had lunch with a few friends. Old friends. Kindergarden class old. Time and circumstance at times drifted us apart, but we always find the time to celebrate each others birthdays, catch up, and compare notes.

Besides our shared internal disaster sensors, there are tiny elements in our lives that have become indelibly tangled with our personalities. For one it’s her experimentation with hair color, for another—an infectious laugh. One friend is up to date with the latest fashion trends, another on physical fitness. We’ve all had our ups and downs, share a self-deprecating humor, and weathered many a relationship. A constant throughout, is the continuous referencing of “All things Leopard.”

Crazy Leopard references stemmed from a college spring break trip to Florida. We stayed at a family friend’s condo, comfortably situated near the ocean. Six pale girls on the loose. Only a hangover or low SPF could stop us. And it did—but not before being stopped in our tracks at the condo. Here was a glaring lesson in the not-so-subtle art of decorating. Everything…EVERYTHING in this apartment was animal themed. Leopard printed upholstery, bedding, and towels. Cheetah patterned china. Serengeti prints. Safari photos. And, a lovely leopard print negligee in the closet. Ready to Pounce. Crazy Cats. Girls Gone Wild.

This occurred 30 years ago and we still laugh about it. It’s taken on a life of its own over the years as we’ve accrued our own collection of leopard items. Two of my friends in particular have made it their mission to purchase said items. The collection consists of, but is not limited to leopard pajamas, robes, snuggies, blankets, headbands, scarves, gloves, shoes, skirts, slippers, picture frames, wine stoppers, band-aids, kleenex, purses, and my personal favorite: duct tape. All tastefully presented in a leopard gift bag. Prrrrrrrrrrrr.

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MURPHY'S LAW: CHRISTMAS

                  The probability of a light strand malfunction is directly proportional to its height and replacement difficulty.

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MURPHY'S LAW: CHRISTMAS ADDENDUM

                                          "Computer Angst" by Angela Kenley

                ********************************************************************

The website will crash after you filled up your shopping cart and before you hit the "Place Your Order" button.

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HAPPY OCTOBER EVERYONE.

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COOKING 101: MEALS ON WHEELS

         Life has taught me that parental expertise is not necessarily inherited.  My mom was a great cook, so you'd think I have a small thread of the cooking gene -- but no.  This apple fell far from the tree.

Probably the best compliment regarding my cooking skills came from my 11 year old son:

"I like this. It taste like airplane food."

~Take that Martha Stewart~

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ANATOMY 101: GLUTEUS MAXIMUS

                       The LOSERSISTERS' local taylor was a middle aged Ukranian lady with thick eye-glasses, sporadic facial hair, and a daughter named Gina.  With a stronger command of English, Gina manned the counter. She had a pleasant face and proportions until she turned around.  Then we were transported from earth into some unknown galaxy. Here was an ass of such enormous proportion that we marveled that her legs and back didn't buckle. Here was an ass so robust that it resembled a glacier shelf.  Effusive sedimentation fired, deposited, and rounded her hind quarters. It was awesome.  She then became known as:  "THE GINA OF THE LARGE BUTT."  

To this day, the LOSERSISTERS' default reply to "What are you doing?" is "Just working on my shelf butt."

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LIFE AS I KNOW IT, III

                                                     It's a dog eat dog world--and I'm wearing bacon underpants.      

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MODERN CIVILIZATION

        "Where is all the knowledge we lost with information?" --T.S. Eliot

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THE ROAD TO HELL IS PAVED WITH GOOD INTENTIONS

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U.S. HISTORY 101: GROWING UP IN THE 1960s

                                    In my hometown, a white middle class suburb of Chicago, children engaged in a variety of activities ranging from reading to sports (especially if you were a boy). We were allowed to roam freely as long as we were home by dinner. Summertime lent itself to swim lessons, the occasional camp experience, and the rarer vacation to a lakeside cottage.

Scheduled and structured recreational activities were limited.  Mostly, we played. Played for fun, friendship, and neighborhood playground domination. Boys played imaginary war games and girls played with Barbies. This wasn’t all bad, because MY Barbie was Astronaut, Scientist, Actress, News Anchor, Concert Pianist BARBIE.  And she could belt out a tune. I decided that she was also a Surgeon after dismembering and reattaching her limbs.

The Computer and Information Age was escalating. Technical/mechanical advancements generally reserved for Cold War espionage, Ian Fleming novels, and “The Jetsons" crept into the vernacular.  We watched “Get Smart” on black & white televisions and coveted the Shoe-Phone. We learned about the mushroom cloud and hid under our school desks. Neighbors built bomb shelters --Extremely homely looking neighbors.  We figured if they were the only other survivors, we’d be better off dead.

The Vietnam War and the war for Civil Rights entered our living rooms and national psyche. Television introduced us to the Beatles. I knew this was a big deal, but was embarrassed and mortified by the female hysteria.

We used the Encyclopedia Britannica as THE definitive research paper source, typed our term papers on manual typewriters, and stained our fingers with carbon paper.

To those who say it was a simpler time --simply weren’t paying attention.

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CINCO DE MAYO

THREE AMIGOS (THEN):

THREE AMIGOS (NOW):

How Steve Carrel, Jon Stewart, and Stephen Colbert would look if they had to pose like females.

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THE QUINTESSENTIAL LOSERSISTER

                                                            ERIC BOWMAN'S  "ICE WOMAN"

LOSERSISTER RECIPE FOR FUN:

Babushka?                Check.

Eyeglasses?              Check.

Cake?                        Check.

Bucket of Frosting?   Check.

Let the celebration begin. 

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LOSERSISTER DECORATING DEMO

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GARAGE SALE FOR THE PERSON WHO HAS EVERYTHING

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LUCK OF THE IRISH

                                            I was definitely at the back of the line when God divvied out the good luck gene. The only time I ever won anything was in a trivia contest in a bar. The big prize was a 6 pack of warm beer.

This year was different. Notre Dame, my college football team, had an unbeaten season and finished the regular season ranked #1. Finally after 24 years, The Irish were back in the title game.

This year’s BCS (Bowl Championship Series) game was the tightest ticket in college football history, and I WON in the alumni lottery. Go figure. It’s the closest I’ve ever come to being a big shot. But wait.

The game was a complete disaster. We were totally out-matched, out-coached, and out scored. It was a stunning loss. We never stood a chance.

~Winning the game ticket lottery was akin to winning passage on the Titanic.~