Food on Friday: Strawberry Honey Butter

Today's recipe is not so much about product placement as it is about me trying to experiment with my new favorite honey. And by honey, I mean the food product, not a new boy-toy. Sheesh, people - c'mon!

Fortunately, due to the miracle of crack Pinterest, I found this delightful little tidbit from Half Baked and it is definitely the bees knees! Yeah, I just wanted to work "bees knees" into a conversation.

Strawberry Honey Butter 

1 pint strawberries, hulled
3 T honey (I suggest using Bertossa Honey Farm honey)
2 t fresh lemon juice, or to taste
1 1/2 sticks (3/4 c) unsalted butter, softened

In a food processor, purée the strawberries and force the purée through a fine sieve into a saucepan. Add the honey and the lemon juice and boil the mixture, stirring for 3 minutes or until it is thickened. Let the strawberry mixture cool to room temperature. In a bowl cream together the butter and the strawberry mixture. Let the butter stand, covered, in a cool place for 1 hour to allow the flavors to develop.

Wouldn't this be a cute Christmas, Valentine's Day, or 4th of July hostess gift? For those of you who do that sort of thing, that is, and don't just stop at BevMo for a bottle of wine on the way to the party.

Food on Friday: Knock You Naked Margarita

Technically limes are food and since margaritas include limes, they must be food, right? I'm trying to dust off my deeply submerged algebra brain cells and come up with some transitive theory thingee to prove my point. You know that "if a=b and b=c, then a=c" theory? So just plug in the following variables...a=food, b=limes, c=margarita...and voila! I stand corrected, Mr. Junior High Math Teacher; I did use algebra again! But we're not here to talk about math - we're here for a margarita recipe. Although, if I had to do math on a regular basis, I would drink a lot more margaritas. I bet there's a formula for that, too. However, here's the kind of math I like...

And before you start in with the ewwwwws, I must tell you that this recipe has been tried and true manymanymanymany times in my household and I can guarantee you that it is quite possibly the best.thing.ever. I know it seems weird to mix beer and tequila, especially when they've had a shot/chaser relationship all these years, but joining them together in a civil union is pure magic. BTW, I first discovered this magic from the Sweet Potato Queens and if you haven't discovered their fabulousness, you need to stop reading now and click on over there. I'll give you a few minutes...

...Back? Okay, now on to the "recipe", which is pretty much just remembering 4 ingredients: frozen limeade, tequila, 7-Up, Corona. Use equal parts of each, mix together in a big pitcher and pour over ice. Or stick a straw into the pitcher, if you prefer. Oh, and please heed these words of warning: 1) This is an "on the rocks" drink, not a "frozen" drink. For most people this might go without saying, what with the carbonated beverage and all, but don't put this in the blender. I went ahead and tested it for you and you're welcome. 2) There's a reason it's called "Knock You Naked" so beware of its tasty goodness and the overwhelming mind-trick that you're just drinking a soda. Drink responsibly and stay clothed!

Thanks Mr. Postman

Remember letter-writing? On stationery? Okay, not the point of this, but I just had to reminisce for a brief moment. So, the other day I was reading an article by Mental Floss (my favorite magazine in the whole wide world) called 11 Amazing Thank You Notes From Famous People. You really need to check it out. There's one from Neil Armstrong to the NASA team who designed his spacesuit, another one from Audrey Hepburn to Henry Mancini, another one from Liz Taylor to Andy Warhol, and lots of others just to some commoners.

My favorite was this uber-touching one from Ronald Reagan to the American people. Politics aside, I really liked Ronnie. He always seemed like someone I would want to meet no matter what side of the political fence I rode. I ached for his family when he was suffering from Alzheimer's Disease (an up-close and personal issue for me) and bawled while watching his funeral. And then I re-cried while reading this letter, which is not like me at all. I don't do sad. However, I'm going to make an exception so that I can share this beautiful letter that I so blatantly plagiarized from the Mental Floss blog. Grab a tissue.

My fellow Americans, 

I have recently been told that I am one of the millions of Americans who will be afflicted with Alzheimer’s disease. Upon learning this news, Nancy and I had to decide whether as private citizens we would keep this a private matter or whether we would make this news known in a public way. In the past, Nancy suffered from breast cancer and I had cancer surgeries. We found through our open disclosures we were able to raise public awareness. We were happy that as a result many more people underwent testing. They were treated in early stages and able to return to normal, healthy lives. So now we feel it is important to share it with you. In opening our hearts, we hope this might promote greater awareness of this condition. Perhaps it will encourage a clear understanding of the individuals and families who are affected by it. 

At the moment, I feel just fine. I intend to live the remainder of the years God gives me on this earth doing the things I have always done. I will continue to share life’s journey with my beloved Nancy and my family. I plan to enjoy the great outdoors and stay in touch with my friends and supporters. 

Unfortunately, as Alzheimer’s disease progresses, the family often bears a heavy burden. I only wish there was some way I could spare Nancy from this painful experience. When the time comes, I am confident that with your help she will face it with faith and courage. 

In closing, let me thank you, the American people, for giving me the great honor of allowing me to serve as your president. When the Lord calls me home, whenever that may be, I will leave the greatest love for this country of ours and eternal optimism for its future. 

I now begin the journey that will lead me into the sunset of my life. I know that for America there will always be a bright dawn ahead. 

Thank you, my friends. May God always bless you. 
Sincerely, 
Ronald Reagan

Food on Friday: Toffee Crack

You know how I'm a big scrapbooker nerd, right? Well, to add to the nerdiness, we have a group at church that meets every other week and we're called the Christian Croppers - awesomely nerdy name, right? Every few months we have All Day Crops, which, if you belong to the Scrapbooking Cult, you know what that is and if you don't, well, it's pretty self-explanatory. The one in February is always the "Chocoholic Crop", which means everyone brings a chocolate snack to share and for 15ish hours we binge on sugary, chocolatey goodness and painstakingly create cute scrapbooks that our kids will promptly toss upon our deaths. Or, in my case, spend the whole day binging on chocolate, talking, organizing pictures/stickers/papers, etc., looking at other people's scrapbooks, and maybe finishing one page. But I digress...back to the chocolate portion of the program. One year I brought my chocolate fountain, but neglected to read the directions.....

It may have been the suggestion that I go with a less destructive chocolate creation in the future or maybe it was the "crack" in the title (since that propels it straight to the top of my "love" list - and I mean that figuratively, as in "so good it's addictive like crack" not as in.....oh, never mind, you get it) that attracted me to this sweet-n-salty chocolatey delight. This easy-even-for-me recipe is from Julie at Joy's Hope. Julie's blog is about so much more than recipes and even though I don't know her, I love her. I mean, her tagline is Do something good. Everyday. and you know how much my sunshiny-flowery-bekind-glasshalffull heart swells when I come across phrases like that. But, back to the chocolate..... 

 Toffee Crack

Saltine crackers
1 stick butter
1 c brown sugar
1 bag chocolate chips


Line cookie sheet with crackers. Melt butter in pan, add brown sugar, and stir until slightly caramelized. Pour over crackers and spread evenly. Bake at 350F for 5 minutes. Remove from oven and pour chocolate chips on top. As they melt, spread over the toffee and then place in refrigerator to set. You could break it into bite-size pieces to serve on a plate or you could just shovel it straight into your mouth from the cookie sheet and cut out the middle-man. Don't say I didn't warn you!

I Love My mmmmm...TV

I watch a lot of television. I know - gross, right? I like to consider it research for my Celebrity Stalking obsession, rather than admit that I'm part of the "ass-stuck-to-couch" crowd. In my defense, at least I don't watch Reality TV. And GodBlessAmerica for the invention of DVRs because my old-school VCR would never be able to keep up with my current addiction.

Currently my favorite show is Revenge, because, let's face it, this is my fantasy. On the outside I have this kindness-good-karma-do-unto-others-nicey-McNice persona that really works for me 99.9% of the time. However, suppressed on the inside, wayyyyyy deep down (sometimes not as far down as I would like), I think Carrie Underwood is way too kind.

Me with Trevor Donovan

I also enjoy a good teeny-bopper show. This started when I was teaching 9th graders and Beverly Hills 90210 (the original) was all the rage. I wanted to see what they were talking about and gradually my, "Oh.Ber.Oth.Er." turned into, "I can't believe Donna and David broke up-Valerie is so mean-who will Kelly choose, Dillon or Brandon?" 20+ years later and I still occasionally channel surf to the reruns. So imagine my thrill when they created the new 90210, especially when Kelly, Donna, and Brenda were on the first season! Admittedly, it isn't as good as the original, but all of those beach scenes are filmed in my 'hood, so yeah, back to the stalker thing. My zip code even starts with "902..", plus, I've met hotty Teddy the tennis pro, so basically I'm connected to the show in so many ways, I'm practically a part of it.

Throw in Friday Night Lights, GRΣΣK, Hellcats, Life Unexpected, Melrose Place (old and new), One Tree Hill, The OC, and Veronica Mars and you can see that I've been very busy these past few years nurturing my ass/couch relationship. All good things must come to an end, though, as did these cinematic masterpieces. Thank goodness I still have Gossip Girl and Glee to keep me firmly attached to the couch. Can I just tell you that I am INLOVE with Mr. Schue? And then, just when I've barely finished basking in the glow of his sexy Jagger moves, along comes Ricky Martin, who I fell in love with as Miguel on General Hospital almost 20 years ago. Seriously, watch these beautiful biceps and shiny white teeth and then just try to pry me off my couch!

Food on Friday: Pizza Dip

With the help of my newest addiction - Pinterest - I'm going to add a new segment to my blog repertoire: Recipes That Look Fantastic, But I'll Never Cook Them Because I Don't Cook.

This one is from Kevin Lynch at Closet Cooking: Cooking in a Closet Sized Kitchen. I don't know Kevin, but I do know that I love men who cook. And pizza. And dips.

Pizza Dip

4 oz cream cheese, room temp
1/4 c sour cream
1/4 c mayonnaise
1 c mozzarella, shredded/grated, divided in half
1/2 c parmesan, grated, divided in half
1 c pizza sauce
2 oz pepperoni, sliced
2 T green peppers, sliced
2 T black olives, sliced
(Actually, you can use any of your favorite pizza toppings.)

Mix the cream cheese, sour cream, mayonnaise, half of the mozzarella and half of the parmesan, and spread it across the bottom of a pie plate. Spread the pizza sauce on top and sprinkle on the remaining cheeses, pepperoni, green peppers, and olives. Bake in a preheated 350F oven until the cheese is melted, bubbling, and golden brown (about 20 minutes). Serve with baguette slices because they make the perfect beds for large spoonfuls of this pizza delight.

If you make this, report back and let us know how it turned out. I'm only allowed supervised visits to our kitchen, due to a few minor burning incidents that may or may not have created some smoke, so it may be a while before I get to it. I'll have to settle for gazing longingly at the recipe.

Oh, My Achin' Tooth

Yesterday I had a root canal. My first ever. I feel a little violated.

First of all, I was sad that this poor little broken molar who's been with me for so long couldn't hang in there just a few more weeks to hit the 50 milestone with me. And lest you think, "it's just a tooth, who cares? - you lost your uterus and didn't shed a tear over that major organ - why so sad?", think about all the memories you have surrounding your teeth. First there's the slight little wiggle - "Mom, mom - my tooth is loose!!!" Then the pull-out hysterics (wait, was that just me?), then the Tooth Fairy, and then the little nubbins of a brand new grown-up "permanent" tooth who would soon guide you through your life of chewing pleasure. Oh sure, adult-stressed-out-you abused it with continuous grinding, but it could take it, right? It was supposed to be permanent, after all. Alas, no. RIP my sweet molar #19.

Once I worked through the grief, my "fight or flight" response kicked in, which, for me, is more like a "tremble in fear" response with the same adrenaline rush. I am terrified of the dentist. Terr-If-Fied. Seriously, I cry almost every time I'm there. Thankfully, my dentist doesn't think it's strange for a 40-something-year-old person to cry in the chair o' doom, so she dries my tears and pets my forehead until I'm all better. I am in love with this woman, even if she is a masochist deep down inside. The next few days hours were a blur: I cried and hyperventilated, endured unceasing torture, got some good drugs, and survived. Cue Aretha.

Naturally, when I got home I played BraveFace and announced to The Husband that, "It doesn't hurt at all!" He smiled. I guess pointing out that my face was still numb and when it wore off I would be in all kinds of pain, which would be the impetus for all kinds of whining, would have been just plain cruel. Oh wait - he did that. And he was right, dammit. To quote one of my besties during childbirth, "Dude, this hurts a lot!"

I'm pretty sure the only way to power through this trauma involves lots of ice cream and Vicodin. I'm also pretty sure that's what the grown-up Tooth Fairy will be bringing me.

Planes, Trains, and Automobiles

In the first 22 days of 2012, I have spent a whopping 5 of them at home. And before you say, "Gosh, what a jet-setter lifestyle," let me assure you that it's not. Seriously, does this look jet-setter-ish? Do you see Hawaii or Italy anywhere in these paths?

LA > Riverside > LA > Sacramento > Chico > Stockton > Sacramento > Cincinnati > Lexington > Cincinnati > LA

Nope, not even a nearby glance at Hawaii or Italy. What you may notice, however, is that almost all of my destinations were NORTH of Los Angeles. In January. You know what that means, right? Weather Whine-itis struck with a vengeance. At one point I even said to someone, "Gosh, there's ice all over the cars in the parking lot," to which he responded, "Um, yeah, it gets cold here." I could feel his eyes rolling and heard his in-head thought of, "Silly little Cali girl."

Fortunately I have good travel karma these days, which is a good thing, of course, because I am not a very responsible traveler. I've been known to jump on the plane as they were pulling up the jet bridge (back in the pre-9-11 days when you could behave in such ways without fear of being tasered) and I've definitely had my name called over the intercom more than once. But these days I tend to make it to check-in with at least 2 minutes to spare. Most of the time. Of course it wouldn't be a travel day for me if I didn't have a ridiculous story to share, and - bonus - I have two:

Adventure #1:
I had just squeaked into the Sacramento airport, with minutes to spare, and they told me that my flight was delayed. At first I was relieved that I had extra time until I realized I'd be missing a connection. Therefore, I was "involuntarily rerouted" from Sacramento to Salt Lake City to Atlanta to Cincinnati, arriving at 9am for a 10am meeting. But then, when I landed in SLC, the karma fairy interceded because there was an "involuntarily rerouted" plane going to Cincy, so I was able to jump on it instead of spending most of the night in airports. Whew! Of course my luggage had to take the scenic route through the ATL, so we didn't reconnect until the next day, which means I wore jeans and sneakers to a client meeting. Really no big deal considering the alternative. Big bonus points to Delta, who delivered my bag to the hotel, and to the front desk clerk who gave me toiletries. I have found that people are usually very helpful during travel crises. Not always, of course, but almost always, and I SOOOOOO appreciate them.

Adventure #2:
Since I spend more time in hotels than I do at home, I am surprisingly very careful about unpacking and repacking. In fact, I've only left 2 things in hotel rooms ever, which is pretty amazing considering what a ditz I can be at times. However, I broke the streak and broke it in a big way. I left my sweatpants with my drivers license and credit card in the hotel in Cincinnati and didn't realize it until I got to Lexington. Of course I was in a panic thinking I'd have to have The Husband overnight my passport to me for ID so I could get on a plane to go home and then have to go through the pain of cancelling a credit card, and - most importantly - have to get a new drivers license, which would have been horrifying because I've gained 20 lbs since my last DL pic. (You see where my priorities are, right?) Fortunately, the karma fairy stepped in again, and the maid found my stuff, the front desk clerk held it for me, and I am once again indebted to the hospitality industry for taking care of me. Whew times 10!

Jet-setter lifestyle? Not even close. Home sweet home? Why, yes, I think I'll stay a while.

Waterboarding, Writing...Synonyms, Right?

I'm going to let you in on a little secret (of course posting it online pretty much guarantees that it's no longer a secret)...if you ever want to torture me, don't bother with the solitary confinement or waterboarding - just skip ahead and ask me this question: "Why don't you write more?" My head will spin, I'll start sputtering and spewing the most creative excuses known to mankind, and I'll probably whine a lot. Because I don't know the answer. Okay, that's a lie. I do know the answer, but as an English major and former English teacher, it's too horrible a phrase to utter aloud.....

I hate to write!

There, secret's out. I hate to write. I like to think about writing, I like to pretend-write in my head, I like to comment on other people's writing, I like to read about writing, I like to read stuff I've already written, I like to re-write, I like to think I'm a writer, I've fooled my employer into thinking I'm a writer, but I just Hate. To. Write. And I don't know why. I'd like to think it has to do with a childhood trauma and can be therapied out of me, but I suspect it has a lot to do with laziness. (Really? You're kidding! No way!) Sooooooo, taking a writing course - not associated with school or work requirements - would be the absolute last thing I would ever do, right? Yeahhhhh, wellllll, ummmmm...

So here's the back story...a few months ago a friend (can't remember who, but I'll either kill you or kiss you when I remember) posted an article on Facebook, which of course propelled me into the "Oh this is interesting, let's click on this other link that sounds interesting, oh this is interesting, let's click on this other link that sounds interesting, oh this....." tailspin. Hours later, I stumbled upon Daphne Gray-Grant's Publication Coach website. It was love at first sight when I read these magic words: "Are you tired of writing too slowly and too painfully? Is writing a dreaded chore that you avoid? Would you like to write faster and more easily?" Yes. YES. YESSSSSSSSS!!!!!!!!!!!! HallelujahandpraisetheLord, YES! I promptly signed up for her newsletter and recommended it to my fellow writers. (See how I say "fellow" when I'm not even one of them? I WANT to be a writer; I THINK I'm a writer; I just HATE to write. So I include myself in with my writer friends, but actually I'm a fraud.) So then Carrie-In-The-City says, "Let's take the Extreme Writing Makeover course. And being the typical passive-aggressive that I am, I said, "Yeah, sure" when I meant to say, "Hell to the no." I figured I could continue with "yeah, yeah, sure" for a few months and then we'd forget all about it. But then it became the dreaded New Year's Resolution time and C-I-T-C and her evil steel-trap mind remembered and I got caught up in the frenzy and suddenly, "Yeah, sure" turned into "Yes, that sounds like a great idea, let's sign up now" and here we are. 52 weeks of writing assignments. Homework...Commitment...Writing, oh my!

So stay tuned. And this time I mean it. Yes, I realize I pretty much wrote nothing last year. I started thought about starting a lot of posts, though - does that count? Clearly not, according to this new accountability thingee I have going on.

Whirlwind Tour of Florida

Ya know that "I need a vacation from my vacation" phrase? Yeah, that. Here's the recap - the super short version...

Parental units/Ft. Myers...my favorite neighborhood. My dream is to live in a retirement community where you eat meals together in the dining room, go to arts and crafts classes anytime you want, drive a golf cart, and take bus trips to the mall. I kinda did it backwards though, because I lived in FL in my youth and now I'm in CA during my old age.

Brother-SIL/St. Cloud...another one of my favorite places. The Brother is in the bee business, which The Husband was brave enough to check out. Note the picture-from-a-distance that I took of The Bee Whisperer Wannabe.

The SIL is in the fabulous-clothes business, which is so much more "me" that I excused myself from the nature channel and drooled over some gorgeous shoes instead. Not only are these the most beautiful shoes EV.ER., but they're also in that magnificent hue of Gator Orange and Blue. Rumor has it that you can custom order any colors, but why would you?

While we were in the Central FL area, we also participated in AFSP's Out of the Darkness Walk. Ya know, because I don't do enough OOTD Walks from September through November in SoCal - I needed to travel 3000 miles to do another one.

Also while in my hometown 'hood, I got to play with my girlz. Seriously, the four of us have known each other since about 4th-5th grade (which was only a few years ago, mind you) all the way through college and beyond and the stories we've accumulated along the way are why the Mother's Curse was invented. The best one was, "I told them (referring to teenage daughters) they couldn't go to that concert and can you believe they snuck out and went anyway?!" Really, and that was shocking to you? Because we didn't do the same exact thing a million times? (Mom and Dad, if you're reading this, I'm referring to THEM, not ME, because, well, I was an angel and always followed the rules. Yup, sticking with that story.) So here we are circa 1979...

And here we are (minus the feathers) a mere 32 years later in 2011...

We practically look the same, right? Okay, well at least we still act like 17-yr-olds.

The rest of the whirlwind consisted of visiting the in-laws in New Port Richey, a Sherlock Holmes-esque adventure in Tarpon Springs (more on that later), and then back to visit my parental units and aunt/uncle in Ft. Myers. Finally, on our last day in the other Sunshine State, we relaxed on the beach. Fun was had by all!

Blinded by the light sun!

AFSP Leadership Conference Debrief

I love conferences and I love meeting new people. If only I could make a career out of my grown-up version of Sorority Rush. Plus, I love learning new stuff (that I'm interested in - not boring stuff like astronomy). Plus, I love getting new creative ideas that I will eventually steal and call my own. So spending the weekend schmoozing at a conference in San Diego where it's sunny and warm (except for the 3 days I was there, of course) ranks right up there with a scrapbooking getaway weekend, which is only slightly below a Hollywood stalking event. Anyway, here's my somewhat incomplete review. In other words, I started keeping notes and then - squirrel.

Thumbs down:

• Finance in a general session first thing Saturday morning. Yaaawwwwwn.
• Brain disease research, with pictures, right before lunch. BLE: "Here's our brain stem friend." Yummy, now what's for lunch?
• Reading PPT slides. Uber-pet peeve of mine.

Thumbs up:

• Sitting (and getting a picture) with Wade Hanson from Season 10 of The Apprentice. Okay, I know I'm stretching the definition, but I think we all know by now that I'll take a celebrity sighting in any way, shape, or form. I am not proud of this.
• Lunch with a real live brain surgeon (Dr. Victoria Arango). I'm pretty sure I'm smarter by osmosis now.
• Watching the super-awesome peeps from AFSP-Indiana win all kinds of awards.
• "Carnival of Ideas" open house, with wine and cheese. And not only do all the different chapters share their ideas, but they encourage you to steal them. It's a win-win! As our big boss said, "I've never had an original idea in my life, but I'm a good thief." He even stole those words right out of my mouth.
• Trees and shoes. Not only do I love this as a memorial, but it's all kinds of crafty goodness.

• Quilts, quilts, and more quilts. My favorite is the one that's made in individual squares that can be unbuttoned and rearranged.

Blunder of the day: 
As I tripped over my bag/purse/books underneath my chair for the 15th time, I blurted out, "Jees, I'm gonna kill myself tripping over this stuff" except that's not how it came out. I inadvertently inserted a pause after "myself" as I was in mid-trip. Cue gasp.

PSA - The More You Know:

• Depression is a disease of the brain just like asthma is a disease of the lungs. The brain is an organ just like the lungs, heart, liver, etc.
• Suicide is the result of a diseased brain. Bullying, stress, etc., are triggers, not causes.
• The correct word for a death by hanging is hanged, not hung. "He hanged himself" not "he hung himself".
• The phrase “committed suicide” is NOT accurate...you should say “died of suicide” instead. (Would you say "he committed cancer"? No, of course not.) People commit crimes. Suicide is not a crime. Period. 
• If you're interested in reading the latest articles about suicide prevention and mental illness, check out Normal Is a Setting on a Washing Machine.

And now to lighten the mood, here's a picture of our boss and our Board president in the hotel bar. Nope, not even a costume theme party. Normally I would say, "Oh those crazy kids", but that falls into the "things not to say while surrounded by mental health peeps" category. Finally, I must close with a picture of our fabulous AFSP SoCal crew. Basically the whole weekend was just one big hot dish of fabulousness.

Words on Wednesday, reprised

I discovered this bundle of grammar goodness the other day and I must share. And by "discovered" I mean, someone sent me a link to thebestwebsiteever, The Oatmeal, and I got sucked in for hours of giggling pleasure. Now, for those of you who have been missing Words on Wednesday, here ya go. The first two are reviews of previous lessons, and the last two are things that are tricky, even for me, The Queen Goddess of All Things Grammar. I know it's hard to believe, but I've actually made a couple of grammar errors in my lifetime. Of course I quickly had them covered up, held a press conference, hired a PR firm to spin it, and swept it into the closet with all those other skeletons, so no one ever found out the truth. Let's just keep it between you and me, okay?

Click to enlarge	Click to enlarge
Click to enlarge	Click to enlarge

p.s. Teachers/Parents - click on the link to buy The Oatmeal Grammar Pack of posters.

Welcome to Hollywooooooood! What's Your Dream?!?

The day I moved to la-la-land, my friends/family starting contributing to my bail money fund. Similar to a college fund, but way more practical. You see, I spend an inordinate amount of time in the fantasyland that is my head, which causes me to have stalker-like tendencies. Specifically, celebrity stalker tendencies. And they have these pesky laws against that. So, while I have no plans to make an appearance in Nick Cage's house wearing his jacket, I can't promise that I haven't thought about it. And because my friends know me so well, they closely monitor the red carpet event clips on TV to see if I'm there and sporting a new pair of stainless steel bracelets. 

Despite having to obey the laws, I have had some exceptional encounters in the past few years (Matthew McConaughey). I've also stretched the definition of "celebrity" on occasion (Bristol Palin). All in all, my portfolio is growing nicely and I've avoided jail time. Bonus for everyone involved.

Andre Agassi	Ellen DeGeneres' Emmy Award	Eva LaRue
David Duchovny	Jon Cryer	Michael Easton
Barbara Walters	Betty White	Sherri Shepherd
Justin Bruening, Colin Egglesfield	Cameron Mathison	Carolyn Hennesy
Felicity Huffman, William H. Macy	Mario Lopez	Jeremy Piven
Jason Lee	Ethan Suplee	Trevor Donovan
Mark Feuerstein	James Marsden	Bristol Palin, Mariette Hartley

And just in case you have the urge to burst my bubble like my 12yo niece did when I said, "I saw Jay Leno the other day" and she said, "I've never heard of him", here's the IMDB link to look them up. By the way, if you feel the urge to participate in my official Celebrity Stalker Sweepstakes, thereby necessitating the need for your own bail money fund, feel free. We can have neighborhood block parties in fantasyland. Or jail.