Samie Hartley

I try not to give into social media fads, but when Facebook users were asked to dig up their first profile photos and post them next to their current profile photos, I couldn’t help it. I try not to go digging into past too often, but I’ll admit I was curious.

The rattling had to stop. It just had to. It’s been nearly three years. Enough is enough.

Googling “How to get Gorilla Glue off skin” at 11:30 p.m. was not how I imagined spending my evening.

I love decorating for the holidays. Some of my favorite memories involve decorating the house with my Mom. We decorated for every holiday, but Christmas was our specialty. We decked every hall with touches of Christmas, both new and old.

I think an apology might be in order. I have silently cursed at the men in my life for years for their failure to point out the obvious when it comes to my fashion faux pas, makeup messes and hair blunders. Women in my life never spare me from their observations, so I have to single out the guys.

I know you don’t typically see my column in the Arts section, but this installment of “Simple & Sassy” is a bit of a departure from my usual schtick. See, when I was younger, I wanted to be film critic. It was the only job I could think of that would allow me to get paid to watch movies,…

Napa Valley Register online editor and Simple & Sassy columnist Samie Hartley is blogging about her experiences at this year's Napa Valley Film Festival. She will be checking in throughout the festival to share her thoughts about the festival and the films she sees. She's bringing her hu…

With all the walking Chuck and I did at Disney World, I was hoping I’d come home at least a pound or two lighter. Chuck’s phone reports we walked close to 70 miles on our trip, and my calves haven’t been this firm since college, but my middle is still Winnie the Pooh soft.

When the projection of glowing lanterns from the film “Tangled” washed over Cinderella’s Castle as “I See the Light” played and fireworks burst overhead, I lost it.

What happened at Target last week is the closest I’ve come to channeling my inner Clint Eastwood. Not the stoic, heroic Dirty Harry, though. It was more in line with “Get off my lawn!” Clint from “Gran Torino”.

I don’t watch a lot of television, but the shows I do watch are starting to infest my brain and change my behavior.

I finally caved and set up an Instagram account. I have no idea what to do with it, but here I am.

My first up close and personal interaction with a smartphone smacked me in the face – literally.

I knew I was going to be out of place – I just didn’t know how out of place I would feel.

What kind of office has an antique popcorn cart that looks like it would be more at home in Disneyland than down the hall from a maze of cubicles? A Silicon Valley office – that’s what.

My reality feels splintered. I’ve hit that age where more and more things I assumed would be around forever are slowly beginning to dissolve away. I’m still coming to terms with the closing of Toys R Us, my childhood haven – second only to Chuck E Cheese, but now I’ve learned that Best Buy i…

“I think you should know I’m sleeping with someone.”

Well, it’s official. All the friends I’ve kept from grade school have started families, and I don’t even have a dog.

As my plane pulled into the gate, a wave of boiling animosity flooded the cabin. People rose to their feet, muttering and cursing to themselves and each other as they grabbed for their bags and began to storm off the plane.

I have the most awesome Mom on the planet.

Halloween has always been one of my favorite holidays. I love the decorations, the spooks, and the chance to play dress-up and be someone different if only for a night.

To say it’s been a stressful week would be the understatement of the year. I live in Solano County, away from the threats of the wildfire, but I have family in Napa, and of course, I work here and a majority of my Register family is in Napa County.

To the casual observer, I probably seem like I have a tic, a ceaseless need to wipe down sink areas in public restrooms. Ladies, you might have seen me. I wash my hands and then proceed to use my paper towel to clean up around the sink I’ve been using. If there is time, I will tidy nearby si…

Dear Internet, what’s happened to you? You used to be a source of information, quality information, but now, you just fill my head with useless factoids and random nothings. I’ve known this for some time, but I have to draw the line at squiggle eyebrows.

I was so happy I shoplifted. Stupid, I know, but it’s the truth.

Nearly all my celebrity encounters have been business related, and the ones I’ve managed on my own time have been just as brief. So to be invited to not only meet a famous person but also hang out for a bit? That’s not part of the routine.

My younger self is laughing at me. But it’s not an adorable nostalgic giggle. It’s a bellowing cackle of laughter that feels heavy – like it’s trying to knock me over. Or maybe that’s the hula hoop.

I have the habit of overthinking things. The more options I have, the more details I have to turn over in my mind before I can reach a satisfying decision. And don’t even think about rushing me. If I have the luxury of taking my time, I’m going to take all the time I need.

“Honey! You might want to put some clothes on.”

When I lived in apartments, I didn’t bother getting to know my neighbors. People moved in and out all the time, so I didn’t see the point in getting attached.

I believe it was Charlie Chaplin who said “A day without laughter is a day wasted.” At least, Google says he did.

It’s been 48 hours, but the tip of my right thumb is still numb. Apparently, I am out of practice in the button-mashing department.

I woke up in a panic the other night, startled by the howling wind whipping around my house.

Tom Hanks has been in a lot of movies and has delivered many memorable and quotable lines, so it only makes sense that I imagined him yelling at me as the tears began to fall.

I was about to leave my desk to head into a meeting when my phone chirped indicating I had a text message. I had just enough time to see who the message was from and determine if it was an emergency situation or not.

I was having one of “those” days – the kind of day that sinks its pesky little fangs into your soul and starts sucking away at your life force.

I decided months ago that I wouldn’t be spending my birthday with my husband. Back in September, I asked Chuck if he’d mind if I jetted off to Las Vegas to spend the night with some guys I knew, and he was completely fine with it. Besides, it wouldn’t be the first time I’ve ditched him to go…

I guess it serves me right. While eating breakfast, I was reading an article in which a man was quoted saying he wished he could go back to the days before cellphones. I scoffed as I chowed on Cheerios. I’ve had a cellphone for half my life. It’s difficult to imagine life without one.

“Are you going to wake up?”

I love Super Bowl Sunday. It’s a day to eat, drink and be merry and watch a parade of advertisements that are periodically interrupted by a football game. At one point, the ads will be delayed for an impromptu concert that will likely be more remembered over the actual game years from now be…