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In honor of his birthday today- a revisit of- Hey Daniel Craig, call me, maybe?

This is a little ridiculous. A grown, married woman ogling over a grown married man. Ever since I first saw Mr. Craig (don’t you love a man with two first names?) in Casino Royale, he just had that certain panache. He was rugged, handsome, got dirty, wounded, tortured even. He fell in love, was scorned. He seemed cool and collected, but pained and vulnerable all at the same time. I could go on.

His other movies I find him the same. Not the same as in, always plays the same character type-casty stuff. But the same layers of intrigue and humanity. He just seems real to me. Not a caricature.

And maybe because he’s English, I have a soft spot for him. Okay, every spot on me is soft, but still, a British accent, with THAT body AND cleverness? Hummina hummina.

My mom doesn’t approve. She thinks he looks like Putin. My friend Christin thinks he’s always trying to do Blue Steel ala Zoolander style. My other friend Jen, says he does nothing for her. This, my friends, is not a problem. I don’t care what you think of him, I enjoy him. So I will gladly drool over him by myself.

So in my 40s I’m allowed a lust card. You know, a ‘Go Directly to GO and collect $200′ card. He’s on the CARD. He is THE CARD.

If Daniel Craig walks up to me and starts unbuttoning my blouse, McSweetie is just going to have to step aside. Just step aside McSweetie and look the other way, this might be hard to watch. Maybe I could be a Bond girl. Not the kind that dies in the last two movies, but a kickass agent who wears couture, then gets it unzipped by 007. Then shoots a few bad guys. But nothing with heights please. I’m scared of heights. Or maybe a Bond girl that dances in Spanx and swings off rope swings over pools?

After Daniel and I have our little rendezvous, he and McSweetie can share a pint of Guinness and discuss Liverpool football. The soccer kind.

Okay, so I’m not going to sleep with Daniel Craig! Sheesh! Easy there folks and your extra-marital judgeyness.

BUT let’s just say Ellen Degeneres arranges for me to have tea with Daniel somewhere in a quiet cafe outside of  London. He can talk about soccer, acting, his beautiful and talented wife Rachel Weisz (hate her) and then he can give me an Omega watch and sign my boobs. I mean, he can give me a signed Bond script or something!

So I made this video of me doting on Daniel. I’m hoping it will go viral and find him in his cozy abode outside London. He’ll call me, or email me, and we can be friends. Friends that snog each other in alley ways. Okay, I’m KIDDING!

Still, do me a favor. Spread the word. Send smoke signals, tweet those tweets. Let Daniel know that I love him and will carry his children! Actually, I won’t, I don’t want to be pregnant again. But if he has a dog, or some other smallish pet, I can carry that for him. And his groceries.

If you need to find me, I’ll be  watching Skyfall.

Check out my video and share people!

Happy Birthday Dad! Reason To Live Friday #20

My dad!

Yesterday was my dad’s 81st birthday. I gushed about him all over Facebook and folks were so sweet to share their admiration. It made me all mushy and weepy inside. Even Daniel Craig played second fiddle to him yesterday.

We went out for dinner to the same fancy place Owen and I have had high tea at. It’s the Fairmont Hotel in Seattle and they have this beautiful dining room called The Georgian room. Owen feels like he’s in Hogwarts when we come to this place.

It does kind of play into our Anglo hearts. They have a Jaguar car parked in front of their valet that they use for their guests AND they have an Omega watch store adjacent to their lobby with Daniel Craig’s poster hanging in the window. It really is a win-win situation.

I’m grateful for my dad because he is loving, tidy, respectful, and funny.

My dad didn’t fit the mold of the sappy dad in Father of the Bride, or Ward Cleaver, or Charles Ingalls even. In fact, I would say that he has become softer since becoming a grandfather. I mentioned in last year’s post dedicated to my dad’s birthday, Ode to My Dad, that he would sometimes yell things like ‘bloody hell’, or get cross with me over tracking mud in the house. He came off as brusk to my friends. But honestly, he is the most warm-hearted, no judgement fellow you could meet.

He wears his Church’s shoes from  30 years ago. They look brand new because he polishes them regularly. He has a sport coat from 20 years ago, a watch from 50 years ago. He takes very good care of his things. He never had much as a boy, so he knows to be grateful for something in case he won’t get another one again.

Heck, we live in a disposable society where we know we can just go buy something new if we change our minds. Not my dad. He doesn’t feel the need to have ‘things’ around. It’s me and my mom that shop for shirts, sweater vests and ties any chance we get. He tells us, no more shirts please. But then, for Father’s Day, I’ll find the perfect plaid Faconnable shirt at Nordstrom, and get it for him. And then he puts it on and looks like he could go hunting with Prince Phillip and I smile with pride. Then he gets a twinkle in his eye and knows he looks pretty good, so he keeps the shirt anyway.

When I was a little girl, heck, when I was in college even, if I had a bad day, he would sit me on his lap and wipe my tears with his handkerchief. There’s a soft handkerchief in his pocket at all times. So much has this habit made an impression, that when Owen has a cold, he has his own collection of cotton handkerchiefs to keep in his pocket. Owen admires his grandfather, who we call Odaddy for short, very much. He prides his British heritage, he has a pocket comb and handkerchief just like his Odaddy, and he takes great interest in the car my dad is rebuilding.

For more than 10 years my dad has been rebuilding a super fancy, vintage 1960s E-type Jaguar. I’m horrible for not remembering exactly what kind, but it’s from the 60s, they are very rare, and it’s a coupe. In it’s day, it was, The Shit. With a limited budget, and aging hands and a tired worn out back, he has rebuilt every square inch with the most immaculate attention to detail. It was just a metal shell when he first got it.

My dream is that some fancy uber rich, car collector will pay him thousands of dollars for it and take it off his hands. That is the ultimate goal. He can’t afford to keep it or drive it. But someone out there will cherish the craftsmanship he has put into it, and give him what he deserves for it.

Gorgeous, isn’t she?

So back to dinner and his birthday. I know that things don’t last forever. I know that getting in your 80s is reaching a place in your life where you don’t know how many years there might be more of on this earth. 5? 20? The latter I hope. He’s healthy, fit and takes good care of himself. And of course, my mom takes good care of him too.

I always get so sappy and teary writing about him. I know not everyone has a perfect father. Or even a father figure in their life to look up to that they can count on. But I am so very grateful for mine. And for my children to have that in their grandfather, I am even more grateful.

Happy Birthday Dad. I love you.

Me, with mom and dad. Gosh I love these two so HARD!!

Reason To Live Friday #19

Okay, so what if it’s Monday. I was tired. See previous post.

But thank you to those who noticed that Friday’s RTLF was not posted. And you kept me on my toes. So four days late, here it is.

My RTLF gratitude ranges from friendships, James Bond, and brunch.

Friendships come in so many varieties and packages, it’s really very exciting. I realize as I get older that I constantly make new friends. Through Facebook, my blog, other friends, my kids’ activities, there’s people everywhere who will be a friend. When you’re a kid you worry if you are going to make friends. Now, I am excited wondering what people life has in store for me.

I have friends I am still in touch with from 30 years ago. My best friend, Kristi, actually. We met in 5th grade. But then I have a dear friend Jen, who I met not even 2 years ago. And then there’s all my blogging friends, who I haven’t even met in person, but are near and dear to me through the interwebs. Who knows, I might meet someone tomorrow that could end up being an amazing part of my life. I’m open to anything. Thank you people, for being my friend. Even if I do chew loudly.

James Bond. HELLOO!! You don’t have to like all the movies to know that this year marks the 50th Anniversary of the franchise. And dang bless it, if I’m not a lucky girl that Daniel Craig just happens to be the Bond of the moment now so he’s everywhere. Saturday Night Live, 60 Minutes, Jimmy Fallon. How fabulous will it be as that release date in November approaches? Swoon.

Look who got to snuggle Daniel. If only!

Brunch. I would watch Sex in the City and be jealous of Carrie and her gal friends and their standing Sunday brunch date. How fun to swap Saturday night date stories, sex romps and career anxieties over eggs and mimosas? Maybe it was because my Sundays were always about packing the gold fish crackers and the coloring books in the church bag for the kids and then swinging by Denny’s on the way home for pancakes.

But this weekend I got to go on a real live grown-up Sunday brunch with friends. My friend Jen had a 40th birthday celebration over the weekend and some friends flew in from Chicago, Alaska and Florida to celebrate with her. I missed the party because I had my show, but she had me join them for brunch in the big city on Sunday to catch up with them. I didn’t know what to be more excited for, the mini French press pot brought to my table, or the grown up chit chat that did involve sex, snow blowers, and organic chemistry. It was a varied group of people! The pommes frites were fabulous. I only had to fight the pregnant gal for them across me at the table. I went easy on her, the rest of the group was imbibing with mimosas and bloody Mary’s and she just got an orange juice.

Once again, I’m full of gratitude, sentiment, and food. Hoping you are too. Namaste.

The Music Video

I’ve been reading the soft porn book 50 Shades of Grey about domination, kinky sex, and everything you don’t want your parents to know you are reading. Whew, is it hot in here??

If you’ve read it, you know how, uhm, steamy it is. Steamy? Geeze, that’s putting it lightly!! It’s like jungle steamy, humidifier steamy, boiling noodles steamy.

The other day I had to put it down because I think my cheeks were flushed and the kids came home from school.

I will be honest. I haven’t finished it yet. I feel dirty reading it when the children are home.

So this is me during the day whenever I get a chance on my own to read it. I incorporate chores, Daniel Craig, some subliminal thoughts- you’ll be surprised, and how I really just can’t put the book down. Unless of course, my kids are home! Then I hide it under the couch cushions.

Please keep in mind- I’m a goof ball and by no means take any of this seriously.

Disclaimer-

I’m a happily married woman who has no problem with vanilla sex. Thank you.

I know- more than you needed to know.

Enjoy!