Chinatown Special: COACH Bag Giveaway! (And me and the jeans go out on the town. And we eat six desserts, accidently.)

I know you all came here anxious for Album I totally forgot to listen to for ten years but is really super great, plus look how many crickets are in my sink Wednesday, but I just didn't feel like blogging about music and crickets today, and I just refuse be tied down to such conventions, even though this would only be the second week. I'm a free-bloggin'-spirit. I usually wear a bra, though. A free-bloggin'-spirit is like a hippie, only with a bra.

The jeans arrived on Friday, midday. I love them. I think they like me okay, too, but they might be happier if I didn't fill them up quite so much, with so many desserts and hamburgers. I might need to stop going to In-n-Out drive-thru 3 times a week. Why oh why are the burgers only 1.5 miles away? Is dangerous proximity. Some days, though, I just need to get myself a hamburger with grilled onions and light spread, and go home and sit on the couch and watch House Hunters on TIVO. That 1/2 hour is the most relaxing part of my day. Is like a mini spa vacation. If spas had pink spread. Which they don't.

Also, I might have gone to delicious new Italian place down over to the San Tan Mall two Fridays in a row. It is called Brio, but a better name might be DELICIOSO. Which might not be an Italian word at all, cause I only speak Spanish.

While I was there, I might have ordered 6 desserts. Yes, on both visits. Stop opening up your eyes all wide like that. Like you've never eaten six desserts before. Your contacts are going to dry up and fall out, if you don't blink. I know, cause when I'm lying on the floor after yoga class and listening to the relaxing porpoises-screeching-new-age-beach-music (like us free-bloggin'-spirits are wont to do), sometimes I forget to blink, and once my contact fell out. Which isn't relaxing at all.

*** IMPORTANT CORRECTION*** As I pondered the dessert, I began to think there might have only been five, plus some of Jake's cake, which really only equals 5.5 desserts. I can't believe I OVERestimated my dessert intake. Is crazy.

Anyway, there were five tiny cups (minuscule, really) filled with cheesecake, creme brulee, chocolate cake with caramel, something that tastes like flan but isn't (panacotta), and finally, I switched out the requisite tiramisu for

chocolate hazelnut creme brulee.

Which is the best one.

That's why I bolded it.

In case you were skimming this post to get to the free coach purse giveaway. Which is cool, but you shouldn't miss out on the chocolate hazelnut creme brulee just because I'm so verbose that I can turn a picture of me in my new jeans into a Master's thesis. I totally need an editor.

So anyhow, when you go to Brio and order your six desserts, don't forget to make the switch. Or if you are digging the booze soaked lady fingers (gross), switch out the panacotta (medium gross, but I still ate it). Tell your server you want the Beeswax Special. He'll know what you're talking about, and will wink at you conspiratorially.

No, he won't. I'm totally lying.

Anyhow, don't fret about me and my jeans. They go on for now, it's just that one more Friday at Brio, and they might have to go on sabbatical until I get a handle on the treat intake.

(I didn't even tell you about Saturday night at the Krispy Kreme. I think you already the picture on the dietary train wreck, though, right?)

I do have a plan, you know. The whole problem is easily solved by:

a: aversion electro-shock hypno-water-therapy
or

b: moving further out into the desert, away from the In-n-out

or

c: only ordering one dessert, not six, every week

or

d: going back on the "Kelly, you eat too d*** much" diet (the *** stand for a,n, & g), on which I lost nearly 13 pounds, by using tough love on myself and eating a measly 1300 calories a day

or

e: combination of all of the above.

Okay, maybe not "b". Moving is extreme behavior for hamburger avoidance. Should only be last resort.

Here's a picture of me in my new jeans at the apple store, which is right across the street from Brio. It was taken by my lovely sister-in-law Jane, with whom we double-dated, and who always remembers to take pictures. I sort of love that with my wonderful Cole Haan/Nike Air Mary Jane tall-tall shoes, I dominate all 35 inches of that inseam! I'm thinking of taking my old tall jeans to the tailor to get hacked, and leaving these alone for awhile. Seems a shame to cut them off, you know? I mean, I already have the shoes...

What's that? You would you like a better look at the shoes? My 35 inch inseam is obstructing your view? I got them at the Carlsbad Outlets while I was on vacation in California, for almost free (only mine are pewter). Like 40% off of already 75% off. And they are tall, but also very bouncy, thanks to Nike, so I might be able to dunk if I wanted to play basketball in these beautiful shoes. Which I do not. And since they wanted to give them away to me, I also got these hot mama Nike/Cole hybrids, which I enjoy;

Spouse thinks they look like working girl shoes.

If he is referring to the kind of girls who work in the Primary at Church with all the sweet, little children, then he is totally right! Cause that's where I will wear them. And maybe to give my talk on Sunday. They are going to have to raise the podium when I get up there with my stiletto-Nike-shocks-technology.

So, did you know my FIRST BLOGIVERSARY is coming up on Saturday? Well, the anniversary of when I commandeered the blog from Jake (the Spouse).

I've been around this big, wide blogosphere, people, and I know that propriety requires that I give something away in celebration.

And so, I shall! With gladness!

I've got a 50% chance of being 100% authentic (by which I mean, almost no chance of authenticity at all, but who knows?) Coach purse that I purchased, in frigid single digit temperatures, in Chinatown earlier this year. From genuine, authentic, New York Chinatowner folk. It is brand new with (likely fake) tags. I'm going to give it away on Saturday. If you win it, you will be the envy of all your lady-blogger friends who didn't win it, and the envy of all your real-life friends, who will see it on your arm and want their own Canal Street Special. If you are a man, then you should give it to a special lady in your life, and she will likely kiss you. On the lips. Unless she is your mother. Or your sister. Cause that's creepy. You should skip your relations, and give it to someone you've got your eye on, if you know what I mean, so you can get off the Mommy blogs and get some action. Sounds like you might need it.

Anyhow, I am going to choose a comment at random from this post on Saturday, August 30th, at 8:58 am. 8:58 am is one year to the minute from when I first hit PUBLISH, sending my words out into the world, for good or ill. It's all terribly romantic, isn't it? I'll bet Jane Austen would have been an excellent blogger; although, she would probably have given away ribbons, or a new bonnet for her blogiversary.

Oh, and though I would love to send the purse overseas, I am afraid that mailing such questionable merchandise to foreign climes might cause an international incident. I am not ready for an international incident. Of any sort at all. So, continental U.S only, please!

Okay, Canada, you, too. I'm such a softy for Canada.

Tell all your Canadian friends to come visit and leave comments! (Oh, and all your other friends, too.)