Thursday, January 25, 2007

Perfection Attained

Sunday was my daughter's 10th birthday. On Friday I took her and three of her friends to see the show here:



And then they had a sleepover downtown. They loved the elevator. In fact, I think they loved it best of all the things they did. I could have saved $30 a head in tickets by letting them ride up and down on the elevators. They decided that jumping up and down while the elevator was moving was the most fun thing in the world. It made them scream with excitement. Needless to say, this was a bit rough on the ear drums, but it was pretty to see their enthusiasm.

The rest of the time, they ate pizza. And giggled.



My daughter's presents were all perfect. She got a disco ball. And a Bratz CD player. I bought her






Her grandparents sent a notebook and stickers. And the soundtrack to Gilda:



She loved everything.

What does it mean when your daughter's favorite song is "Put the Blame on Mame?"

(Don't answer that.)

In other perfect news, I pitched Tiffany a couple of weeks ago. I'm chairing a benefit and I wanted them to sponsor us. And Tiffany, which is a store I've always enjoyed anyway, is generously donating these:



for the raffle, and these



for the goody bags. Which adds up to over $11,000 in free loot. Not bad for a half day's work.

But wait, don't go! I have more perfection for you!

In case you suffer from insomnia and this post isn't enough to send you to slumberland, I have the solution. Get this:



and read four pages--five at the most. You'll be in slumberland before you can say "Ambien."

16 comments:

  1. You smart lucky girls.

    Happy day to Poppette.

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  2. Sounds like a fun day for Poppette. And her friends.

    Those pearl goodies are amazing. I love mabe pearls. Those are especially tasty.
    Good luck with your event. Hope you've got good workers for it. And that you raise tons of dinero for your cause.

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  3. Could you plan my party when I turn 31 in March? I've been wanting to go to American Girl place for *ages*.

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  4. Ok Missy, you need to email your secret pitch get Tiffany's stuff letter... cuz I am JEALOUS fer realz.

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  5. Happy birthday to the junior miss! My girl child's favorite song is "Hey Mickey". Can you recommend a good charm school? Or maybe you can send Poppette down here to straighten her out a bit? I promise to give her back. Or, you know, work out a trade of some kind.

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  6. I am totally willing to be a presenter for some goodie bag swag!

    Happy belated birthday, Poppy Version 2.0!

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  7. Happy birthday, Poppy Jr.

    I was sentenced to read all of Eragon. What a waste of trees. If you want to know if it gets any better, read my review here.

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  8. My wife drags me into that store every Christmas... yes just the one you show here near the Water Tower. This year I couldn't find a "Daddy couch." I think they got rid of them... or I just couldn't see them for the piles of guys waiting for grown women to get over it.

    Yeah. You can't tell me this was about your daughter. Ha. Ha. Ha.

    I wasn't born yesterday!

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  9. OMG.

    I can see Poppette actually doing that elevator jumping thing.

    -J.

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  10. Hey everybody: Thanks for the birthday wishes. I will convey them to Poppy v. 2.0.

    Diesel: I actually finished Eragon. Now I'm on Eldest. This book illustrates why there is no such thing as a child prodigy author. I keep thinking it will get better as I move my way through the narrative. After all, the author is aging, isn't he. But I'm afraid you need to have lived a little before you can write bildungsroman.

    Badger: I will happily send Popette to sleepaway camp/music appreciation at your place, or better yet, your mother's. But I demand you and the Boy Child in exchange. My boy adores me to pieces and gets great grades ... he and your son would be likethis, which would give you and me the chance to get drunk.

    Jasmine: No you don't! The place exudes estrogen to a toxic degree. Well, maybe the restaurant is OK. I've never been.

    Kristin: The secret is to wear as much bling as you can cart, and then let your fingers do the talking.

    RW: My daughter likes the shows, but not the dolls. I like the dolls better than the shows ... but that's not saying much. C'mon, I'm the Barbie/Madame Alexander generation. And frankly, the consumerism in that store makes me feel a little queasy. I mean ... a beauty parlor ... for dolls? Hell, I don't get to the beauty parlor often enough, and they're wasting chair space on inanimate objects?

    Joke: You will not be at all surprised to discover that the elevator jumping was Popette's idea. Thank goodness it's a sleepover thing, and she's usually content to push the buttons for everyone.

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  11. happy bday to the Littler Poppy; and sweet jesus, i am glad i don't have girs. just the photo of that store gave me goosebumps.

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  12. that'd be girls. not girs. GIRLS.

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  13. Poppy - I saw after I posted it that it was Eldest. My wife has that book lying around so I recognized the cover and was thinking it was Eragon. Anyway, I completely agree with you. When people would ask me if it was any good, I would tell them it was the best book by a 17 year old I had read.

    Thanks for affirming my weird velveteen aversion. It must be related to the Asperger's thing, because I think I'm a "carrier" too. :)

    Oh, and since this comment isn't long enough yet, check out my post today re: humor-blogs.com....

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  14. Because I just can't seem to stop adding comments to this post: Diesel--I checked it out and added a banner. And a comment on your blog.

    Everyone: Is all this commenting adding to the energy crisis? Is this why I ran out of gas on Friday night?

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  15. Because I can't let your comment be the last one on your own post: Thanks for the link! I think you're funny. And I'm the decider. So I'm putting you on the site. I'll make you a banner. Let me know if you hate it.

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  16. Belated birthday wishes Miss Poppette. Next year please tell mom you want the birthday party at Disneyland in California.

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Gentle Readers:

For the time being, I've turned off comment moderation. Please don't spam; it's not nice.

xxx, Poppy.