So, we're back. And we had so much fun. And I am jet-lagged out of my mind.

So, while I get my head straight enough to sort through our approximately 4.5 billion pictures and make a proper blog post, here's a little nugget from how we spent our day yesterday. Let me just say that, if you have to be stuck in an airport, Copenhagen is the one to be stuck in. It's pretty fancy (Who doesn't need access to a Gucci store, Burberry store, Hermes store and a Ferrari dealership on the way to their connecting gate?) It's also pretty funny.




Yes, this is a real store. But isn't it also a state of mind? I like to think that I'm always... Soaked in Luxury.




But you know you've been a little too Soaked in Luxury when it comes to starving children and all you can come up with is "Who Cares?"




My favorite marketing message from the Danes, though, had to be this one for Sterling Airlines that we found on the baggage carts. I love people with a little self confidence.


I'll be back soon with more wild and zany moments from Eastern Europe (I promise I won't make you look at all the pictures. I'm saving up that kind of torture for when we have a kid). As much fun as it was, though, we missed you all and we're glad to be back.

So, this weekend I was in Phoenix for business. On Sunday night, I was sitting on a delayed plane, trying to get home. Because we'd been sitting there for a while, they'd turned off all the lights except for people's reading lights, no doubt hoping to trick all of us into falling asleep rather than being annoyed that we were late. Well, this one four year-old was having none of it. The plane is totally quiet and he starts yelling, as only a four year-old can:

"I like big BUTTS and I cannot lie! You other brothers can't deny!"

Yes. He started singing "Baby Got Back." And he did not stop. His lyrical memory was impressive. I had to kind of respect his parents: Sir Mix-a-Lot should be a part of every young child's life.


On a similar note, Jon and I will be gone for the next couple of weeks, hopefully encountering many other such children in our travels. If I get a chance, I'll post some pictures as we go. See you all soon!

I just got my new camera and have been having a ton of fun learning how to use it better. This is one of the shots I've really liked so far. This is my little brother Josh to a tee. Innocent. Goofy. Slightly west-side. He's got it all going for him.

No, this has nothing to do with Obama's visit to Afghanistan or John McCain calling the Czech Republic Czechoslovakia three times. This is about important stuff.

Will got voted off SYTYCD. And I am officially pissed.

Are you kidding me? He is so insanely talented that it makes me sick. And now the finale is not going to be as good because he's not in it. Plus, Mark has to feel like an absolute tool because what do you say to that? "Yeah, your dancing is about ten million times better than mine but I did get the whole state of Hawaii to vote for me, so, about that..."? Everyone knew that Will was the best dancer on the show. Plus, as evidenced by the video, he is the only guy in America who can dance that stunningly while wearing a pair of never-nudes (Tobias is turning green with envy).

Unbelievable. Come on people.

So, the other day, I was in Smith's Marketplace and I saw a kid trailing behind his mom's cart, walking unsteadily down the cereal aisle. Why? Because he had his nose about two inches away from the pages of the book he was trying to read as he walked. I waited to see his mom turn to go down another aisle. He stopped in a daze, not even attempting to keep up with her. Two seconds later, she doubled back and impatiently pulled him along. I had to laugh. It really took me back.

I was that kid.

Let's be honest. I was a geek. I read anything and everything I could get my hands on, regardless of my comprehension level or age appropriateness of the material (which may have explained why my mom found me reading "Gone With The Wind" in second grade and then had to explain to me what the Civil War was). Every night, I would sneak books into bed with a flashlight. I remember loving to see the sun rise as I finished the last page of whatever it was I was reading that day. My whole childhood was shaped by the books I read, from "Babysitters Club" to "Brave New World." I was that same kid, driving my mom nuts because I wouldn't put the book down for long enough to keep up with her.

Which is why I'm loving the adult reincarnation of my love for books: The Kellie Bacon Book Club (it's called that because we all know each other through Kellie... get it? Kevin Bacon, Kellie Bacon... I thought it would be funny). Anyway, I can't say enough about how much I love my book club. All of the girls in it are smart, funny, successful, insightful, insane. I used to think joining a book club was a boring mom thing to do. Now that I see all of the crazy stuff that women actually talk about at book club, I realize that this is the hip place to be.

I'm also adding this Shelfari thing to my blog to show the books I'm reading or have read, both for book club and outside of book club. I always love recommendations from the people I like. And I'm going on a trip soon, which means that I want to take at least my full body weight in books (Jon told me I have to carry the backpack with the books-- I think it's his attempt at regulation). So, comment away and tell me about all the stuff I should be reading.

It's been two years since I got married and, as of several days ago, I had yet to change all of my legal documentation from "Spittler" to "Shaffer." I don't know entirely why. Maybe it was a combination of fierce loyalty to the Spittler name that was infused with years of elementary school suffering (just mix anything closely resembling the word spit with any child between the ages of 5-9 and imagine all the possibilities). Maybe it was the sense of identity that came from being one of only two "Amy Spittler's" in the whole world (okay, yes, I googled myself. You may say it's narcissistic but I found out that the only other person in the whole world with my name is a collegiate swimmer in Alaska. Sounds like the beginning to the next Wes Anderson movie, right? We should become friends and go on a Yukon train trip and see all the wacky ways that we... never mind.) Or maybe it's because I'm just lazy and didn't want to hassle with all that annoying paperwork.

Whatever it was, it was working pretty well for me. I pretty much had everything under control, remembering that I was Amy Shaffer at church and the gym and Amy Spittler at the pharmacy and the bank, Amy Spittler on my work email and Amy Shaffer on my gmail. I was actually rather proud of my mental juggling.

Until last Wednesday.

That's the day that I realized that I had booked my plane ticket for our upcoming trip in my married name and that my passport was still in my maiden name. At first, I told myself not to be too worried. But then I called the airline and they said there was no possible way I would be allowed on the plane if my ticket name and passport name didn't match. So, the last few days have been a blur of Social Security office lines and expedited passport forms. And $135 later, I am now officially Amy Elizabeth Shaffer. And I'll have a brand spanking new passport with none of the cool stamps I had accumulated over the last several years (yes, I was the annoying person who still asked for the stamps even though they don't really do that anymore).

No more hedging my bets, Jon. I'm in this for life now.

Something I love: Dwight as Xena

I don't know if it's the hairy legs or the saucepan bra set-up, but this is freaking funny stuff, man. The fact that he kind of pulls it off is both disturbing and awesome. Check out the Entertainment Weekly piece that this came from, where he also impersonates McGyver, Paulie Walnuts from the Sopranos and Captain Picard. Genius.






Something I hate: Indecision

I am not ashamed to say that I have some obsessive tendencies, especially when it comes to making decisions. So, when I tell you that 85% of the conversations I've had with my husband this week have revolved around the roughly 92 million internet reviews I've read about this camera that I want, you shouldn't be surprised. I think I'm driving him absolutely nuts (while eating dinner: "On dpreview.com, though, they said that it didn't perform as well in high ISO situations"... getting in bed: "But then I can't use the prime lens series because the focusing computer isn't in-camera." ETC.) I've been really wanting a DSLR for a while and am getting a little more serious about it in light of our upcoming trip. With my price range and ultimate intentions for the camera, I've narrowed it down to two: the Nikon D60 and the Nikon D80.

But now I am an absolutely crazy person (we're talking crack addict, Gary Busey crazy) trying to make a final decision. I just keep getting sucked in to read yet another review.

Help me?