Adventures in dumpster diving

When we decided to downsize to a condo from a larger home in 2009, we weighed the pros and the cons. Less space but smaller utility bills. No yard, yet no yard work. Losing vintage charm, but gaining modern convenience. In other words, we thought this shit out.

Once of the pro/con items that didn't seem significant was the garbage situation. In our old house, we had curbside pickup for garbage and recycling, one day per week. In the condo, we have a dumpster for garbage, plus dumpsters for recycling, that we can use any/every day of the week. We have to walk a skosh farther than the curb, but all in all, not a big deal.

Something that I did not anticipate was my husband's transformation into a dumpster diver. There's a little area adjacent to the dumpsters, just empty space, where people put "things" that seem a little too "good" for the dumpster, and apparently other people take them. Kind of like a sharing table. I've seen a nice-looking highchair sitting there, big empty rubbermaid bins, even a computer monitor, just sitting there, discarded, next to the dumpster, but nothing that has ever tickled my fancy.

What I'd never seen was a plant. Which is okay, because I've never met a house plant that I can't kill. But the other day, apparently a plant appeared at the dumpster, and by the end of that day, the plant was in my house, courtesy of Tim, who apparently forgot that bringing a plant into our house is the kiss of death. Also, for some reason, this is all my fault? I'm the plant killer? I don't understand how he brings a plant in and now it's "my" plant, but that's another post...

Anyway, here's the plant. A palm of some kind. A perfectly nice plant, I'm sure. Whatever.

The plant needed something beneath it to catch water, and apparently my husband has no idea how much a Demarle fluted moldhttp://shop.demarleathome.com/categories/1039622269-flexipan-molds/products/879818044-fluted-square-mold costs, because that's where I found my pan.

I noticed that our "special" kitty, Buffy the Mouse Slayer, was very interested in the plant. She's the biggest pain in the ass cat in the history of cats, fyi, but she is quite pretty. And we all know that pretty girls get away with pain in the ass shit that us regular girls just can't pull off. Again, a story for another post...

And now we know why house plants cannot survive in our home environment. Apparently they are being molested by Buffy.

And hopefully palms are not poisonous. And by "hopefully," I mean that if they are poisonous they are fast-acting and do not induce pre-death barfing. JUST KIDDING. Pretty much. Not really.

And thus ends Tim's foray into the world of dumpster diving. And thus ends the notion that it's me who kills the house plants.

The end.

I am so controversial...

I received an email about a complaint about my blog, and a link to click to view it, and blah blah blah, SPAM, so I deleted it. Because I? Am no fool. I do not clink links in ridiculous emails.

Then today I logged on to take a peek at my blog for the first time in, oh, a while, and lo and behold, a big, bold message greeted me:

We have received a DMCA complaint for your blog, So Not Zen. An email with the details of the complaint was sent to you on 11-Jan-2012 , and we reset the post status to "Draft"; you can edit it here. You may republish the post with the offending content and/or link(s) removed. If you believe that you have the rights to post this content,you can file a counter-claim with us. For more on our DMCA policy, please click here. Thank you for your prompt attention.

Wowza. Who did I piss off? I went to the deleted post, and it was a picture (from Google images) of a French bulldog with the title "Christmas Wish List No. 6" and that's pretty much it.

I had no idea frenchies were so controversial.

In other non-threatening news, today is January 12 and I have yet to break my January resolution, which is NO BIG BOX STORES. I'd love to make this a lifestyle choice, but even given our differences, the Tar-jay still calls to me on occasion. But not this month. We'll see what February holds.

I have continued my January tradition of dieting my way back down to my post-holiday level of overweight, which is my baseline overweightedness. It's hard to feel celebratory about the fact that, yay, I am dieting my ass off and now I only need to lose 15 pounds. But in comparison to the oh, hell no, reality of gaining six or seven ADDITIONAL POUNDS during the course of the holidays, I guess it's the better position to be in.

Hopefully I'll be back to my normal weight by March (15 pounds by March, that's doable, right?) when I start my running training program up again. This year I am running two half-marathons, one in May and one in June. I've got no good excuse for not running these days because our weather has been brilliant and non-wintery to the extreme, yet I haven't run since I did a 5k on Dec. 4, so six weeks ago, not one little jog. I have, however, been dancing with Tim, three hours of classes per week. We're doing West Coast swing, East Coast swing and Cha Cha. I could live without the cha cha, personally, but the swing classes are a lot of fun.

So, here I am, back to the blog, again, hoping to make it a semi-regular occurrence. I'll try not to stir up too much controversy with my cute dog posts. Peace out.

Nothing new to see her, move along

Today is one of my favorite days of the year. Or at least it starts as one of my favorite days of the year. Generally, it ends as one of my least favorite days of the year, but then like an insane idiot, I do it again the next year.

Craft with Carlie Day! Woot!

Since Carlie was old enough to exchange gifts with friends for Christmas, I've had her make her "friend" gifts every year. We've made some pretty cute things, like fairy houses, snowglobes, purses made from old jeans, magnet boards and I can't think of what else. This year we're going with crocheted monster hats.

She is getting her braces put on in two days, so I thought a good needlecraft project will keep her mind off of her aching teeth. Especially since she is such a low maintenance and drama free child. BWAHAHAH. not.

In other news, I recently replaced my ghetto-ass busted windshield on my car to the tune of almost $400.00. And guess what? On my drive to Boise Friday I got a rock ding. WINNING! I immediately said to Carlie, my traveling companion, I AM SO GETTING THAT FIXED FIRST THING MONDAY MORNING SO IT DOESN'T SPREAD... lesson having been learned last time (see $400 fucking windshield replacement).

One little ding. Not so bad, right? When we got up Saturday morning, everything, including my car and windshield, was encased in ice. When I got my windshield free of the ice, the "ding" had become a crack. A fucking crack that measured about five inches long. FML. As a bonus, once the car warmed up, the five inch crack spread RIGHT BEFORE MY EYES and I watched it travel from the driver's side bottom corner of the windshield all the way to the passenger side bottom corner. But it didn't go straight across. It curved upward and then down again.

And now my car has a giant frowny face on the windshield. Appropos.

Happy Fall - Blog Post No. 900 (yowza)

The nitty gritty crap of real life has been interfering with my ability to enjoy the good things. And there are so many good things going on that have been pushed to the back burner. The change of season is in full swing here in the Pacific Northwest, with highs in the 60s for the rest of this week. I love fall. It always makes me nostalgic with memories of high school football games and French Quarter Halloweens.

An update on my brood...

Maggy's wedding was a raging success. We danced, danced, danced all night long. Photos coming soon. Prepare to be dazzled by the incredible photography work of Amy.



Taylor is still doing his thing in Santa Barbara, glass blowing and skateboarding. He came home for a quick summer visit. That boy still cracks me up, even if he might look a little scary sometimes.

Erinna is at UW in Seattle, attending rush week. I'll go up this weekend to be with her on Bid Day, where I will capture every exciting moment of the start of her Greek life with my iPhone, much to her chagrin.

Carlie has started seventh grade with NO DRAMA (hope I didn't just jinx that). And she's not too old to go out and play in the fall leaves. Thank God.

Contemplation...

Swirling brain, always so much to think about...

Decided to restore the natural order and return my hair to the color it is supposed to be. Fuck gray hair. Fuck aging gracefully. 45 is the new 30, or some such.

Now that my hair is youthful once more, time for some botox and "filler" in strategic spots. I am not going down without a fight.

I've been thinking about getting back to that blog thing, you know, the one where we log on and write stuff on our blogs? Yeah. That one.

I'm training for a half marathon that is happening on June 19, which is, like, right around the corner. I ran six miles this weekend and my knees and ankles remind me every step of the way that I am not in shape. That'll make you think, for sure.

Heading to Seattle in early June for a long weekend with my man, Bono. And a little side action with Lenny Kravitz. And Tim will be coming along too ; )

Erinna is graduating from high school in a few weeks, plans for college in the fall are all falling into place. She'll be going away to school, but moving into our little dollhouse condo for the summer. Lots of transition.

I'm going to become a mother-in-law in August. But before I am labeled a mother-in-law, I get to be the mother-of-the-bride. I plan to rock it. Hard core.

I went to a Shambalha meditation workshop to learn how to settle my fucking brain down. I've also got a new batch of homeopathic shit from my naturopath for the same issue. And yet the insomnia and the spiraling thoughts at all hours of the night/early morning rage on.

I've been working long hours, running when I'm not working, scheming and daydreaming as I recuperate from my runs, neglecting and missing my friends.

Time to regroup.

Gone, but not forgotten

Hello Blog Friends, remember me? I've been kind of lost in space. Not really. But I have been very busy with some important personal projects. First and foremost, I am today on Day 19 of a medically supervised 21-day detox diet, which consists of 500 calories per day of a very short list of foods. 21 days. 500 calories. No sugar, no gluten, no fats/oils/butter, no artificial sweeteners. The approved foods = Meat -- chicken breast, crab, shrimp, 96% lean beef - 3.5 oz twice a day. Veggies = lettuce, cabbage, spinach, asparagus, cucumber, tomato, one at a time, twice a day. Fruits = apples and strawberries, once a day. AND THAT'S IT PEOPLE. THAT'S IT. THAT'S ALL THE FOOD I HAVE BEEN EATING. Miraculously, no one has died by my hand. I've lost 12.4 pounds and hopefully when I see my doctor Monday I'll be advised that my cholesterol is super low, my blood sugar is picture perfect, and my liver enzymes have completely normalized. Because 21 days ago those things were, shall we say, less than optimal. Also, I look exactly like the girl in the picture. I LOVE VEGGIES! Yay! Woot! Detox rocks! Of course, minus the hand weights because the one bright side of the detox diet has been that it's supposed to be 21 restful days of no exercise. That? I can do. Really well. Secondly, I've had four seasons of Friday Night Lights to catch up on. Four Seasons. Do you know what kind of time commitment that is? But it's got to be done. Tim Riggins, oh, how I love you. The tragic bad boy with a heart of gold. I'm a sucker for a beer swilling, school skipping, juvenile delinquent who's not really jail bait in real life. Suck. Er.

And, of course, the soul-sucking time consuming, all encompassing enterprise of Banana Cream Puff. Carlie has applied to sell at the Vancouver Farmer's Market, which? Turns out? Kind of a B.F.D. to get into the Farmer's Market. She wrote a fabulous application and has made it to the next phase, which is having her wares juried on April 20. So, yeah, we've got that going on.

Oh, and because I am a glutton for punishment like nobody's business, when my detox ends on Monday, I start marathon training on Tuesday for the inaugural running of the Vancouver USA Marathon. I'm registered for the half-marathon, which will zip right past my home along the river-front trail that I vowed to run frequently when we moved. Yeah. Like that happened.

So, yeah. That's the highlight. How 'bout y'all? What's been going on?

Jiggity Jig

Our grand getaway came to a brutal and abrupt end with a big old slap in the face of reality this week. Wherein *reality* = Seriously, universe? Why you want to be that way?

We got home Sunday late afternoon after a treacherous drive over the mountain. Tim had to put chains on the Montero, which, I can't even begin to tell you how bad it has to be for him to do that. He prides himself on his Ice Road Trucker driving prowess with the four-wheel drive. So when he pulls over to chain up, you know shit is getting dicey. Due to some poor wagering on her part, Erinna was the designated chain-up assistant. In the sleet.

Here's her dad, teaching her how to put the chains on...

And here's the official chain lady, telling them how they did it wrong.

Since I wasn't driving, I was free to enjoy the stunning scenery.

And the satellite radio.

And tormenting my children with my satellite radio choices.

(Side note: I texted this photo to my sister, and she said that it looks like we picked up a hitchhiker. Hello, son, welcome home. Also? Why is my text underlined? WTF?

We arrived home safely and resumed our normal lives on Monday. Which means that Tuesday found me in the doctor's office with Carlie (strep) and she has missed Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday of school. Of course she has. Between dealing with a sick kid and work catch-up, I am exhausted and have never looked forward to a weekend so much in my life.

Viva Le Friday!

Living in the Hurt Locker

I'm trying to figure out why this week has so thoroughly kicked my ass. I worked, but not considerably more than usual. Carlie was home Monday and Tuesday with a cold, but considering she is the girl who never goes to school, that was nothing new. Toss in a dance lesson, a couple of trips to the gym and a feeble attempt to get a head start on Christmas shopping and, really, you've got a whole bunch of nothing. And yet? OMFG, I am exhausted.

Tim is gone for the weekend, fishing, leaving Carlie and I here to fend for ourselves. This never really goes as well as one would expect it to go. Case in point...

I decided to finish up a sewing project, but it was really cold downstairs, in the room where the sewing machine is, where there is no heat. So I plugged in a space heater that was left here by our landlords. And, of course, EVERYTHING WENT DARK. Of course it did.

I was about to say we blew a fuse, but that's so archaic. We tripped a breaker. I flipped it back on, after some screaming by Carlie, who had been taken by surprise by the sudden plunge into pitch black darkness. All in all, it was quite a non-event. Things were dark. Then they were light again. NO BIG WOOP.

Until the burglar alarm starting going off when the power kicked back on.

HELLO, WE HAVE AN ALARM SYSTEM? How did I not know this? Needless to say, I have NO IDEA how to disarm it.

I called our landlord, whose response was, HUH? GO FIGURE, THAT NEVER WENT OFF WHEN WE LIVED THERE. They have no paperwork, no code, no nothing for the alarm. It was here when they bought the condo and they've never used it. Helpful!

The godawful alarm shrieking stopped and was replaced by a consistent and steady beeping and flashing of a yellow light labeled "trouble." Progress!

I decided to "fiddle" with the alarm keypad to see if there was an "off" or "cancel" or "STFU" button. (FYI: there's not.) wherein "fiddling" with the keypad = not knowing my own brute strength because it FELL OFF OF THE WALL where it was then DANGLING from a HOLE IN THE WALL by three wires. The wires are red, green and yellow, in case you're wondering.

The rational part of my brain was aware of the fact that we were in no danger, yet in the other 99% of my brain I was the Hurt Locker guy and needed to figure out which wire to cut.

In the end, I cut no wires, because I was hungry, so I decided to make dinner. Which is all fine and good except for the part where we have no food in the house. I dug in to some delicious hummus with chives, and as I am savoring the hummus-y goodness, it occurs to me that the hummus I bought did not have chives, and, yeah, I am eating moldy hummus.

All was not lost as I was able to cook a nice hot dinner for Carlie and I of crescent rolls. That's all. Just crescent rolls. FTW!

Whatever else I might have to bitch about, one thing is for sure. Never a dull moment around here.

Guess how I spent 13 minutes of my day yesterday

PS: Ghetto cracked windshield, who?

iPhone Monday

Photos taken on my iPhone today.

1. Carlie, heading to school for Crazy Hair Day. It's Spirit Week. When you go to an Art School with no sports teams, "spirit week" is the week before the Big Show. This fall's Big Show is Guys & Dolls. Go team!

2. Weird shaped wall in our condo that is kind of stupid and hard to decorate. At the moment, it's home to three vintage photographs of Downtown Vancouver, where we live, and a 100+ year old window salvaged from the nearby VA Hospital when the fancy new hospital was built. Lead paint, who?
3. Straws. It's what for dinner. I decided to do a quick and easy spaghetti dinner by doctoring up a jar of Prego Organic with my favorite Italian seasoning and turkey meatballs. And when I cleared the clutter in the pantry to grab the spaghetti noodles, turns out they were straws. Dinner fail.

Like the opposite of a guilty pleasure

I cleaned my garage today. This was a major undertaking, and I did it singlehandedly. As lame as it sounds, I enjoyed the task, the solitude (because, seriously, if I start a chore like this, it's the only time people leave me alone lest they get enlisted to help), and the finished product, a nice, well-organized space, makes me happy.

I also enjoy vacuuming out my car. The cheap ass little handheld vacuum is so loud, I can't hear anyone while I'm doing it, and a clean car makes me giddy.

What's your lamest pleasure?

A list, in lieu of a real post

Because? Lazy. Hello.

1. On Tuesday, my sister is having a baby girl. I'll be an aunt again! This has sent me into a knitting frenzy. Also, my sister tried to strong-arm her doctor into inducing her on Sunday so the baby's birthday would be 10/10/10, but the doctor doesn't work on Sundays. How cool would it be to have 10/10/10 for your birthday?

2. Stealing a quote from my favorite birthday girl, because it sums up my feelings perfectly: The phone part of my iPhone totally sucks, but the awesomeness of the “i” part makes the suckage of the phone part sort of totally worth it...

3. Carlie has missed two weeks of school. Started with a stomach bug, ended with severe flare of her IBS and a trip to the hospital for blood work and an abdominal x-ray. Actually, it has not ended yet, but now that we've confirmed she doesn't have an Asian parasite (thanks for nothing, WebMD) and just needs to take a good poop, I am hopeful that the end is near and she'll be back in school Monday.

4. Missing two weeks of school is extremely stressful when you're in sixth grade and prone to anxiety.

5. Having a sick kid at home when you have to go to work is also extremely stressful.

6. My work schedule got screwed up last week and I was sent out on a job that I was not prepared for and, honestly, not qualified to be on, and yet, BAM, here I am and let's deal with it. Only "deal with it" turned into "mess it all up" and... yeah, I don't want to talk about that just yet.

7. Why is it so hard for me to accept the fact that the only way to lose weight and feel better is eating healthy food and exercising? I refuse to believe I cannot find a magic shortcut. One that involves fries. And donuts.

8. I've recently diagnosed myself with two new ailments... the one where you think you have bugs crawling on you, but you really don't, but it doesn't matter that you really don't, because, hello, invisible fucking bugs are crawling on me RIGHT NOW. Also, I've developed a case of animism with regards to my love for my new coffee maker. Like, I want to marry it. OK. Not quite as bizarre as these folks, but still.

9. Fall is here. I love fall, even if it means rain. Fall makes me nostalgic and homesick. But I love it anyway.

10. I am making a quilt for my oldest daughter, Maggy. It involves cutting and pressing and sewing and cutting again, and pressing again, and sewing again, to the tune of eleventy million 6x6 inch squares. My original goal was Christmas. My revised goal is her 50th birthday.

11. The combination of my love for American Pickers and mid-century decor a'la Mad Men has led to some extraordinary finds lately... including a pair of 1950 glass lamps, a 50's era mod wooden lamp, a 1960's drop leaf table and some very cool artwork circa 1974. Photos in next post.

12. Lastly, Not to sound cliched, but TGIF. Actually, more like FTFGIFF. Insert F word for all extra Fs. Yeah, it's been that kind of week. xox.

In which I am shallow... how about you?

I once broke up with a cute boyfriend because he chipped a front tooth and didn't get it fixed. For real. Shallow, who?

Now that you know where my personal shallowness yardstick is, I'll commence with my tale.

There's a really, really cute dad that goes to our church. And by dad, I mean he has a kid Carlie's age, and not that he's, like, my dad's age. Because? Ew.

Anyway, did I mention that he is really, really cute? Like, you're so beautiful you could be a part-time model cute. The essence of his cuteness comes from his hair. He has this thick, black, curly hair that appears to be quite soft to the touch. I've never actually touched it, of course. It reminds me of this... but with less attitude.

Or should I say had. He had beautiful, day-dreamy hair. But yesterday, at church, as I was scanning the crowd while devoutly paying attention to the sermon, I saw him, and he had a new hair cut. A new hair cut that looked kind of like this...

And my chain of thoughts went something like this:

1. OMG, WTF

2. Man, I'll bet his wife is pissed

3. I would never sleep with him now (not like I was planning on it before) (just saying)

4. I am so over him

And then I broke up with him, in my head.

Is it just me?

Delinquent

How I spent my summer vacation... predominantly in the ballroom

*********

I've had so many things to write about, but no time to write them down. Which is, ultimately, a good problem to have, versus nothing to write about. I guess it's called "being present" in my own life, or some new-agey crap like that.

I did have a huge burst of creativity at about 4 a.m. recently, with an idea for a story so tremendous I was giddy. And when I woke up, the idea was gone. Gone, but it left a shadow that has nagged at my brain for days. I have a feeling that *the big idea* is just on the outskirts of the shadow, waiting to be rediscovered.

Do you watch Mad Men? There's an episode called The Color Blue in which Paul has The Best. Idea. Ever., doesn't write it down, and then forgets it. Paul, brother, I feel your pain.

*********

We are in our last week of summer vacation. School starts a week from tomorrow for Carlie and for Erinna. Ironically, it's currently a dark shade of winter gray outside and the temp is 56 with a high of 66 expected. I've been obsessed with the crazy weather all summer long.

To celebrate the end of summer... a roundup of what my kids are doing.

Maggy is winding down her two-year college program and starts her second-to-last semester of school today, in Texas. Iris continues to be unbelievably cute, even though we only get to soak up her cuteness through Skype. They were here to visit early in the summer, and it seems like it was a very long time ago.

Taylor is still living in Santa Barbara, firmly on the grid despite earlier rantings to the contrary. But in a bold showing of distinct counterculture behavior, he has just moved into an unconverted warehouse with two roommates. They have no kitchen and they have a shared bathroom with the rest of the building, with no shower. I asked where they would shower, and his answer was the beach. At least he has a plan. He has not been home since Christmas.

Erinna starts her senior year a week from today, and is embracing all that that entails. She is back to a good tennis practice regimen to get ready for the season after a summer of not playing. And she has her first job, bussing tables at a restaurant, where they pay her money! She has her senior portrait photo shoot scheduled for Thursday with the ridiculously fabulous Amy and a back-to-school shopping trip scheduled with Carlie for later this week. Because Carlie needs new school clothes. Clothes which are not uniforms. Because...

She was (finally) accepted into VSAA, aka, Vancouver School of Arts and Academics. Can I get an amen?

We spent Sunday at Carlie's third Ballroom Showcase. I've linked the videos and told the sad tale of how her dance partner was sick and couldn't make it on Facebook, so it feels kind of repetitive to retell it here. If you're not on Facebook, though, and interested in seeing her dance videos, here is a link to her Viennese Waltz. She did five dances, but I think once you get to You Tube for the V. Waltz you'll be able to see all five videos, right? I am many things, but You Tube savvy is not one of them.

It's time for me to go to work on my stack of transcripts that need finishing. Thanks for sticking with me to the bitter end of the most boring blog post of all time. I'll do my best to recapture that elusive big idea and come back to dazzle your asses soon.

Summer Snapshots

Kind of like Wordless Wednesday, except it's not Wednesday. And I've got words. But, you know what I mean. Alternate title: shit I did this week that was photoworthy. This would not include the unphotoworthy stuff, like a $800 dental visit. Oy.

This week we had an unexpected week of vacation, wherein vacation = three days worth of jobs cancelled and, boo-yah, hanging at home, until the next paycheck comes and the boo-yah becomes boo-hoo.

In any event, there was some grilling...

And some swimming. And yes, that's my thumb. Shut up. But seriously, note the perfect herky form of Carlie's jump. She inherited the cheer gene. And yeah, again, shut up.
Visiting the river with a friend...
Blackberry picking...
And eating blackberry shortcake. On the deck. Can you see the river? It's in the far right corner. It's not as far away as it looks.
So, how's your summer coming along?

PS: Contrary to the photographic evidence, my husband is not a serial killer. I swear.

Summer... finally!

Summer has finally arrived in the Pacific Northwest. And honestly, not a moment too soon. When the local news did a story with the title "Summer Cancelled?" people kind of started to lose their shit.

To celebrate the sun, I got an iPhone. Oh yes, I did. It's kind of like a little mini starter version of the iPad (which I still don't have). So I am looking at it as iPad practice.

As soon as the weather was warm enough to swim, Carlie was ready to be at the pool 24/7. Except she had one small problem. Or make that five small problems... five stitches in her eyelid. Which, WTH with the super healing power of children? It has been a week and a day, and she is almost looking 100% like nothing happened. Whereas I still have pink puckery scars from my surgery in February and, frankly, I think my 11 and a half C-section scar is still kind of numb and jacked up.

She got her stitches out on Friday, and we spent most of the weekend hanging at the pool. Oh, and just FYI, I am apparently the fattest person in this condo complex, or at least the fattest one in a bathing suit at the pool. Yay me. FML.

I can't find my camera, but this is our pool. We are big pimpin', can I just say.
Since I am the fattest person at the pool, and since I have this gorgeous running trail literally steps outside of my door, I've decided to put it to use and get back to a regular running routine. You know how people say shit like "Getting out there is the hardest part, but I'm always so glad I did it," and "Oh, I love the energy I have for the rest of the day after a good morning workout" ?? Well, they are all fucking liars. Working out SUCKS. And running SUCKS. And OMG why couldn't I have been born with some kind of freakish metabolism that allowed me to eat cheeseburgers and kettle chips and not pork out? LIFE IS NOT FAIR.

So that's what we've got going on this summer. Some running, some swimming, some pool lounging, healed stitches and an iPhone. Never a dull moment. I wonder if there's an app for that.

A Poll

What is more annoying... having to type in a "capcha" word to leave a comment, or having anonymous spambot comments?

UPDATE: I agree. Word verification has been turned on. WTH, Blogger? Sheesh.

What's doing around here...

Week In Review... you're welcome

In the few minutes that I have not spent obsessing over whether my daughter will get into the Art School in the fall, I've been very busy this week. Just a random sampling of what's been going on round these parts...

Tim's dad is here, visiting from Chicago. Which means my alcohol intake has tripled this week, as compared to a normal week when we don't open two bottles of red wine per night.

Erinna celebrated her 17th birthday this week. As a family, we all went to the Blazers v Wizards NBA game which was, arguably, the most boring game in the history of the NBA. Until the last 20 seconds. Then it got good. Because I am *that mom* I prepared a birthday-party-in-a-bag to take with us, which included funny cards, gifts, a birthday tiara and a ginormous I'M THE BIRTHDAY GIRL pin to wear, all the things that a 17-year-old young woman wants going on at an NBA game. But because I am also *me* I... wait for it... left the eff'ing bag at home. OF COURSE I DID.

We've all but given up on selling our house. Interest has dropped off. We have a couple who are interested in leasing the house for two years. Older folks, grown kids, both have stable 10+ years at their government jobs. We're considering doing it. There are four units for rent in the townhouse complex that we want to buy in. It could be a good chance to sample the lifestyle and decide if it's right for us. We're meeting with the couple tomorrow night, for the third time, to iron out the details.

What else.... you already know about the 200 hours spent at the ballroom showcase. And have I mentioned that I work FULL TIME now, as in OMG I was such a slacker before? Yeah, there's that. OH, and we received my hospital bill from my first hospital stint. $42,000. I am not even making that up. HOW CAN THAT BE? We have insurance, albeit shitty insurance, but still. $42,000 for a bum gallbladder? Healthcare reform, who?

Lastly, before I log off and order pizza for dinner, I am running a half-marathon. On July 4th. Probably. I didn't register yet, but I am *thisclose* to registering. I ran one last year, in June, so I know that I can be ready, physically, by July 4th. It's just a matter of getting my head in the game and my arse of the sofa.

Happy spring, ya'll.

Yeah, I've got nothing

Today we are making homemade snuggies. Because an as-seen-on-TV snuggie is not ghetto enough. We're even making them from old, pilly, used fleece that we already have. Merry Christmas

I've been trying something new with my blog. My new approach: If you don't have something nice to say, don't say anything at all. That and keeping the mindless drivel to a minimum. And guess what? I have, like nothing.

So screw the *new* and back in with the old. If *less than nice* is all I've got, so be it. Mean, coupled with mindless drivel, is where it's at.

But honestly, I've got nothing new and exciting to talk about. Carlie and I have been crafting up a storm, making Christmas gifts. Eventually, I'll pull the photos off of the camera. But there's been pretzel dipping, hooded ponchos with pompom trim and the most adorable toddler aprons of all time. Not to mention glass magnets, magnet boards and more clay charms. All that, and today is actually the first day of Christmas break. Up next: homemade Snuggies. Not even joking.

Taylor, the prodigal son, is home for the holidays. We are in day two of the visit and all is still merry and bright. Let's hope that lasts.

Last night we had dinner with old friends at the Olive Garden. Because that is their favorite restaurant. So once a year, we take them to dinner at the Olive Garden. Which means once a year, I eat at the Olive Garden. But my disdain for chain restaurants is not the point here.

During dinner, our old friend asks Carlie, "Wow, you're like an only child now. I'll bet that's really different. How are you liking that?"

To which Carlie responded by shattering into a million tiny pieces of broken.

She is sad that her siblings aren't around so much anymore. She is sad that her dance partner/teacher has moved on to other things and is no longer working at her dance studio. When Carlie starts going down her litany of things that she is sad about, it lasts for about 30 minutes and ends with the hermit crab that ran away when she was in second grade. (And yes, we had a hermit crab run away. I know! Right?)

So between my holiday funk and Carlie's preteen angst, we're having a hell of a time these days, wherein a hell of a time = OMG CAN WE PLEASE JUST SKIP TO FEBRUARY FOR CHRISTSAKE?

I've been employing my favorite parenting strategy with some success. I've found the key to successful parenting is to isolate the problem, then throw money at it. So I've been stressing the fact that Carlie gets to do a lot of fun (and costly) things that she would not be able to do if she had siblings living at home. Sometimes it works. Sometimes it doesn't.

We're also gearing up for our big Christmas Eve Open House. You know, the big ass party that I thought I would not be having this year, because I thought we'd have moved by now, and so I have done zero prep. Yeah, that party. The one where I make turkey gumbo from my leftover Thanksgiving turkey, except, SHIT, I didn't cook Thanksgiving dinner this year and have noturkey and guess what I am doing today? Yep. Making Snuggies and roasting an f*ing turkey. Are we feeling jolly yet?

And the highlight of this, the first day of school Christmas vacation, will be a violin recital at a retirement home. Carlie has played violin since she was three, and has participated in this recital at the same retirement home every year. It's a very nice retirement home, and the residents are always thrilled and appreciative of the awesome talent that the Vancouver Strings shares with them.

But still. It's a nursing home. An "old folks home." And I know many of you would visit and spread cheer and blah blah blah. But every time I visit the nursing home, which is exactly one time per year for this violin recital, it takes me, like two days, to shake off the sad. Getting old sucks. I don't want to get old. I don't want to be in a retirement home. Plus, my kids would probably not even choose a *nice* home for me. They'd go for the bargain home.

At least I'll have my homemade Snuggy knock off to bring me comfort.

WTF Wedding Cakes

Of course, one cannot scour Google for cake stands and not become obsessed with cakes. And since I am also obsessed by the impending nuptials of a certain bride to be, and because I am somewhat deranged, I spent a little (hour) time looking at wedding cakes. And seriously? People are whacked.

This one? I actually kind of love. A lot.

If you are having a Dr. Seuss themed wedding, what more could you ask for

The captions, not done by me, say it all

Nothing says classy like a good ass grab

Because every bride wants to be compared to a pig on her wedding day

Kind of fun

Kind of gothy

WTF?

Sad commentary. Because this? Would totally be me. Except texting.

Um, okay.

Keeping it fair. One dead bride for every dead groom.

Lots of brides dragging grooms, but no vice versa. hmmmm...

For fans of "Lost" maybe?

Dirty Dancing. You know, if you want to have a Patrick Swayze tribute at your wedding.

UPDATE: After posting this, I found this site of crazy wedding cake toppers. I need to put down the computer now. Before I start planning a vow renewal just so I can top a cake with king kong holding a bride.

UPDATE 2: Custom bobblehead cake toppers, ya'll. Seriously. Not having had one of these, I am not sure that my marriage is even legal.