Let's play: Get To Know Your Chain Store or Restaurant

Okay, I've had it. I can't stand listening to established, cultured human beings constantly refer to pop culture places of business by a name that they are just... not!

Read the name on the building, people. It's something different than what you're saying.

This rant stems from my reading and hearing gross misnomers of popular places. For example, Nordstroms.

 

Nordstroms? Really? Go read it. What does it say?

No "S." Perhaps if you are planing on shopping at more than 2 Nordstrom department stores, you'd say "I need more expensive, fancy underwear so I'll be going to 42 Nordstroms today." But that's probably not the case 99.999999% of the time. Therefore, if you plan on shopping to the tune of the baby grand piano, just simply say "The half yearly sale at Nordstrom is tomorrow. Yay!" and call it a day. Perhaps this gross mispronunciation of an additional "S" comes from other stores that DO have an "S" (usually possessive) in their names, such as Macy's or Mervyn's. That shouldn't matter though. It's a simple task of reading and repeating.

This above phenomenon goes for deliciously-famous-for-gigantic-portions Claim Jumper. I constantly hear Claim Jumpers. And it's wrong. Nope. One. Just one claim jumper. Only one little mean miner guy who violates another man's land claim. One. See? I'm not even lying:

 

Get ready, because this one really irks me. Not only does it change the spelling, but changes the meaning! Ready? Ok, here it is. The violation: Victoria Secrets.

WHAT?! Really?

I'm cutting to the chase. It's Victoria's Secret. See here:

I mean, the running joke for years and years and years has been "Wonder what's Victoria's Secret even IS?" If the name was actually <shudder> Victoria Secrets, than that little wink-wink-nudge-nudge of a joke wouldn't even make sense!  I guess I just don't understand why it's so difficult to make the proper noun possessive and keep the 2nd noun singular. It's a story, an enticing name of a lingerie store. It's something to discover: "If you come in here and try on these ridiculously small panties, you shall discover .... Victoria's Secret." Oooooo. It's stupid and dramatic, but it's a multi-gazillion dollar business with a published, branded name. Use it.

The rules of English just make sense to me the same way the rules of math make sense to other people (NOT me! I wish!). While I have my frustrations with gross misprintings of words -- commonly seen are possessive vs. plural issues -- I think this (Nordstroms, Claim Jumpers, Victoria Secrets) bites at me more because, well, they're all proper names. The work's been done for us. We don't have to think. We just have to read it and pronounce it (or write it). It's a simple game of copy-cat. And yet, it's still  a problem. If we can't even just mimic an already-created and branded name, then society will never get the actual rules of English that need real, actual attention.

Princeton's first...

real haircut happened this week!!

The day after we got him, he was all raggedy so we had him groomed and they trimmed some of his fur to clean him up.

It's grown a lot since and to help keep him cool for the rest of the summer (and, selfishly, to help keep our house a little cleaner...) he got groomed again on Tuesday and now has the most handsome haircut. He's very dapper and looks like he should be on the cover of a puppy version of GQ. What can I say? I like my men clean cut.

Ugh, moooOOOooom. this is SO embarrassing.

Well if you MUST, at least capture my good angle. I do have an exquisite jawline.

 

Ok, you can take one more after this. I want to go play now!

I'm wagging my tail and ready to go. Haircut shmaircut. I look great, yada yada, now let's play!!

Doggone days of summer

My Granny got her doggy companion, Sweetie, about a year ago and that's when my dogological clock started ticking. I fell in love with that cute little pooch and realized I really needed to have a pup of my own one day with the hubs.

Now we have our furry bundle of love, and Granny and I finally made a date to introduce Sweetie and Princeton to each other. Technically, Sweetie is Princeton's Great Aunt (okay, so I got a little carried away with the family tree, but if Sweetie is her child and Princeton is mine...), but the 6-ish year-old maltese/yorkie mix acted like a puppy, full of spritely energy and loving every second of attention. Meanwhile, Princeton was a very calm guest and preferred to chill out and watch his new canine family member spend all her energy. You'd think Princeton was the old fart of the family (and why not, with his Andy Rooney eyebrows?!), but he's only about a year and still getting used to his new home with us.

We started the morning with playtime on Granny's enclosed patio:

Then, I drove all of us to lunch where we ate outside and enjoyed some sub sandwiches. You'd never know we were there to eat -- it seems like all I did was snap photos of the dogs on the sidewalk. Every person that walked by during the busy lunch hour stopped to pet the dogs and ask about them. They ARE pretty cute and only someone without a soul could resist a smile.

After lunch, we headed over to the park. Since Granny is 80-something, Sweetie doesn't really get to run around and frolick through the park, so I grabbed the leash and ran her around. She loved playing and definitely appreciated the exercise. At one point, I ran Princeton AND Sweetie together and I got all tangled up in the leash!

 

I took a cute pic of Granny with her sweet Sweetie:

And then she really felt the puppy love!

 

This older woman was walking by us and stopped to say hello to the doggies. She began to tell us about the joy and heartache she went through with her own dog. We all agreed that dogs are wonderful creatures who bring us so much joy, but when they are gone, the pain is indescribable. I think we made her day by letting her talk about her deceased loved one. She was so grateful to have the opportunity to let her feelings out and told us she felt she could now move on with the healing process. We all agreed that dogs do so much for us, and when they are no longer here to chase rabbits and chew treats, they've got to find themselves in a doggie heaven full of grass and toys. It must be hard to be at the end of your life, without your human friends and suddenly without your furry friend. Granny sounded so relieved to have Sweetie in her life, as they'll both be able to grow older together. While this exchange seems very sad and depressing on the surface, it makes me happy to know that dogs are like family members and have provided such necessary love and companionship to those in need of it. Why pay for therapy when you've got dog kisses?

5 Friends in Vegas

What do you get when you have a friend who has a hook up for a free timeshare for a weekend in Vegas and he invites 4 of his favorite friends? You get Friegel, Stacobs and Kevin Do Vegas! (I love word/name fusion and Bryan and I are Friegel based on our last names; Stacey and DJ are Stacobs based on Stacey's first name and D's last name: big thrill).

The timeshare was off the strip. No big deal; we took the monorail!

We ate yummy gourmet burgers and other delicacies at the Mirage at 2am on our first night:

fried pickles = Bryan's idea of Heaven.

The next day, we woke up and brunched at Mon Ami Gabi (The Friegel's personal favorite) at Paris. We all shared lots of yumminess like:

baguettes!

 Seasoned grilled salmon over citrus and spinach!

Steak sandwich with caramelized onions on ciabatta!

Eggs Benedict!

Perfectly crisp frites!

Waffles with chocolate Nutella -- by the way, OH. MAW. GAWSH.

We rolled out of Mon Ami Gabi after we were all round and satisfied and snuck into the Paris pool after a series of comical events, i.e., D and I going up to people in the registration area of the hotel asking if they have an extra key so we could "join our friends who are already at the pool and won't pick up their cell phones to come get us." We were turned down by the following: rules-obeying old men, flirtatious 40-something women on a menopause vacation who had JUST turned in their keys upon check out, a German who didn't understand the situation in question, a threesome of hicks who said they didn't have keys yet but heard you can just walk right in anyway. ding ding ding! Up we went to the 3rd floor and lo and behold, we walked with a purpose onto the pool plaza, scored some chairs, grabbed some towels, and within minutes, we had our cocktails in hand. Fantastic-ness.

Our lava flows didn't come close to our favorite Hawaiian honeymoon drink, but what the hell, it's Vegas.

Stace double fists a margarita and an iced coffee. Only in Vegas.

After we roasted out by the pool for a couple hours, we sluggishly made it back to the other end of town where we played some games at the Hilton. I played blackjack for about an hour and didn't win. But I didn't lose. Lots of fun for free. The boys and Stacey learned craps. I was way too confused. They did well! Believe it or not, that is the only gambling I did the whole weekend, though we found ourselves in the casinos a lot... usually pulling D away from every single blackjack table he got magnetized to.

We cleaned up nicely and headed out to Bobby Flay's restaurant at Caesar's, Mesa Grill. Very yummy food. Good atmosphere. Interesting waiter. Nice wine spillage.

Notice D's nice clean shirt. It will not stay that way.

Looks gross, but I swear this tiger shrimp and husk-wrapped corn salsa was delicious.

Bryan's rubbed pork chops were the best thing I ate there.

Kevin's T-bone steak with 2 kinds of sauces made with Bobby Flay's famous and favorite flavors: chiles!

These are the faces of two very full men, exhausted from an eating experience like no other.

An oops with the red wine and there goes Geoffrey Beane. Snappy waiter had a Tide Stick on him, but it was still questionable if the shirt would survive.

After dinner, we hoofed our bellies over to Bellagio where our evening would continue. We started at Caramel for some two-for-ones.

And once we had our fill of two for ones, we moved on over to The Bank (which has replaced Light), where Stacey's friend hooked us up with no-line/no-cover. It sure felt nice to be escorted in while lots of thirsty guys and gals waited behind the ropes. It was super crowded inside and was a trek to get drinks or go onto the dancefloor. The hubs and Nivek and I got too sober to tolerate it and after about 2 hours, we cashed out of The Bank. But what does a girl with a camera do while she's sobering up in a dance club? She shoots!

We did learn a thing or two while spending time in The Bank:

1. Men in uniform can basically have sex on the dancefloor and it's completely acceptable. No big deal.

2. Asians LOVE the club. And they get DOOOOWN.

3. Bottle service with a table is THE way to do it... as we longingly stared at those lucky bitches.

We hobbled on over to the Bellagio cafe for some 2 a.m. grub. We ordered desserts and fried food. Does the phrase "whatever happens in Vegas stays in Vegas" apply to calories?

my husband, the narcoleptic.

The business partners get sleepy. (I still think it's cool that my husband and my college best friend are business partners).

And, just like that, there ends my photo recap of our Vegas trip. Food, games, food, dancing, food, alcohol, food, pool: a quintessential, low-key weekend in The Veg with good friends and lots of laughter.