Mallory asked me to go see The Devil Wears Prada with her the other night. This appeals to me on so many levels because I get to be in the vicinity of butter since there is popcorn on the premises and I have a weakness for it.

All in all, it was a silly movie but I went because my daughter asked me to and I will do just about anything to spend time with her and it fit all the requirements of a Girl Thing:

1. There was butter.

2. There was female bonding.

3. There was an opportunity to poke fun of the fashion industry and “chick flick” theatre.

A comment we heard upon leaving the movie as the credits were rolling:

Person #1: I’m not one to talk about anybody, but…

Person #2: Yeah, right. Who are you going to talk about?

Person #1: Twelve o’clock. Two ladies. The one on the right.

Person #2: Ummm….where?…oh! I see.

Person #1: Right. So what I’m thinking is this: would YOU come to see “The Devil Wears Prada” in overalls? I’m just sayin’. Overalls? Who looks good in them, huh? WHO? Are those back in fashion? Please tell me they are not. Because that? That. Is tragic.

Person #2: ……..

That’s all I can tell you about the conversation. Oh, and that it was between me and Mallory.

Today is the day. I’m digging out the last bit of the Moroccan coffee that Ron sent me and I’m indulging. It will be pure. Nothing added. Nothing detracted. Just spicy, heady flavours and an aroma that will make me inhale deeply for the rest of the day. Aaaahhhhhhhh.

Not to be confused with Sniglets and, I’m showing a little bit of my age here which, you know, is fine and all because I’m the only 35-year-old I know with a 20-year-old kid, but I miss Not Necessarily The News.

I liked that better than SNL when I was growing up and I’m not sure I was supposed to be watching it. Just like all things on HBO in the 80s. However, some really good movies came out during that time so I don’t regret it. Like Three O’Clock High. Does anyone else know this movie?

Sniglets have kind of been replaced by Urban Dictionary.com where, by the way, I have learned all kinds of very bad stuff.

Case in point:

Me: (reading something online at the table across from Mallory) Hey, this would be really funny if I understood everything.

Mallory: (completely disinterested in me and completely interested in her bowl of cereal) Oh, yeah. Like what?

Me: Like, I think I need to know what a Dirty Sanchez is.

Mallory: MA! STOP! NO! GAAAHHHHHHHHH. (her tongue is hanging out by the end of this word/sound/facial grimace)

Me: Fine. Don’t tell me. I’ll look it up.

Mallory: (stops eating her cereal and looks at me in disgust) You DON’T want to know.

I hate it when my 20 year old is right. I did NOT want to know. And now I do. And now I won’t be able to order the sanchez deluxe at my favorite Mexican restaurant.

However, the best sniglet I can recall is the schwiggle which was defined as “The amusing rotation of one’s bottom while sharpening a pencil.” It was fruitless to get my 11 year old to understand this one as he’s grown up in a world with only electric pencil sharpeners.

You know what I think? I think that just now, when you read that, you stood up out of your chair and made that movement. Didn’t you?

Some snippets from this weekend:

A voice mail: “It’s Becky. I’m only telling you this because I know if I don’t you’ll give me CRAP: I made chocolate chip cookies. Bye.”

A bit of advice from the husband when I lamented all this working out and not losing a single ounce of weight from it: “You’re toning. That’s good for you. Your body will start to lose pretty soon. I learned that from Celebrity Fit Club.” This was NOT related in any way to the above comment. I didn’t go over her house and snarf those cookies until AFTER this.

A friend let me drive her Jaguar and as I was moving the steering column up, I snapped off some button. Later, to Ken, I said in one complete breath in my rapid-fire speaking: “Dear sweet Jesus! I was in that car a full fucking 20 seconds and I broke it! I broke a Jaguar! Why do people let me drive their Jaguars?”

To make me feel better about the issue of exercise and not losing weight, Mason chimed in: “Mom. Ok, turn to the side. OH MY GOSH! I CAN’T EVEN SEE YOU. You’re getting so thin I think you’d be really good at hide-and-seek.”

After attending a wedding reception Ken and I discussed co-workers: “You realize that every time we get together and have drinks with them that so-and-so takes off their pants and we’re treated to a fine piece of ass, right?”

This is normal snippet material for everyone, right? Tell me that my snippets are traditional and that I lead a completely conventional life.

Right after you stop doing that schwiggle.

Certainly not coffee. Yet. Lots of water, perhaps. Yes. I’ll have water and then crawl to the coffeemaker to plead with it to give me a cuppa. I don’t even care if it’s Folgers. Yeah, I must be sick.

Not too long ago I went to a baby shower for my girlfriend Tammy and another friend of ours, Krista, who lives near St. Louis, came to visit as well. She had on the most adorable sandals which she got at J. Jill. Since she lives in a different town completely, I asked if she would mind if I got some like them. Honestly? They are not only cute, they can be construed as hott. With two T’s.

Normally, I don’t like stealing anyone else’s style and I have been known to get upset when people do it to me. I’m still quite pissed that I bought this beautiful coat (which, at the time, I had to pay for in half-cash and half-credit card so Kennimus wouldn’t see the price) I got and then noticed this woman wearing the same one. My gaping mouth gave way for Ken to ask what was wrong and I sputtered, “LOOK. She… she… she has my coat. It was so different. I…. I…. really liked being different.”

He tried to assure me that it was ok but I found myself walking right up to her (since we saw each other at several places and were acquainted enough in that way) and saying, “You know, I have that same coat. Haven’t you seen me wear it?” My hope was that she could hear the accusatory tone with which I asked this question and hang her head in shame. She smiled this big (fake) smile and said, “I know! I loved it so much I went and got one!”

I was NOT. AMUSED.

We ran into her last year at a wedding reception and I hid behind Ken in the receiving line when I spotted her and her husband walk in.

What are you DOING?

Oh, it’s that bitch who steals my look. Don’t let her see me! These are my favorite gauchos and boots and the last thing I need is some heifer walking around with MY CUTE GAUCHOS AND BOOTS.

Needless to say, I’m a fan of individual style. In the sandal instance, however, I know that no one else here has them and I asked Krista if she would mind if I got them, too. When she comes to town to visit, her sandals may trump mine. In the event that we both show up wearing them, I must return to my residence and change my footwear (that’s all contract language she made me sign for this arrangement). In fact, the ones I ordered were darker and slightly different enough to make me feel ok about this idea.

Look. They are cute, no?

There’s even a bonus shot of her pumpkin who delighted us all at the baby shower.

Happily, I went about ordering the shoes online at J.Jill and converted the European sizes to American sizes (might I add that size 11 has always sounded bad to me until I ordered a 42?) and patiently waited for them to arrive. When they did, I tore into the box and I knew immediately when I saw them that they were THE WRONG SIZE.

Checking the box and the sole of the sandal confirmed that yes, these were size 11. If I lived in Munchkinland.

Since I’m a fly-by-the-seat-of-my-pants type gal, I called up my best friend Becky and asked if she wanted to ride to St. Louis for the day to exchange my shoes. When she got to my house I showed her the sandals and she proclaimed, “Hey. These look like a 9. I wear a 9. I’m trying them on.”

*I can’t get this picture to look right. Instead, click here.

So now, she wears them everytime she goes anywhere with me. She looks adorable in them. She looks cute in them. She looks hott in them.

I really do love my girlfriends, but now I have TWO OF THEM walking around with my sandals and they look great in them.

Heifers.