Singing the new car blues

This is my Montero. I love this car. I know how to parallel park it like a boss downtown. I know which parking garages I am going to scrape the roof of. I know that the tires can take curbs without damage. I've driven it for ten years now. And while I love the thought of shopping and of new, I hate the idea of a learning curb.





I've needed as new car for a year now, for mechanical reasons. Repair costs at this point are more than the value of my car. But that's okay. I've lived with the rattles and chirps and occasional spazzy jerking motions when accelerating from a dead stop.





Now I have a giant crack across the windowshield. And I resigned myself to live with it, because even putting a new $350 windshield on the car at this point seems silly. That's okay. I'll drive it anyway. Last week, the interior overhead light started coming on at random times. Hit a bump, light comes on. Round a corner, light comes on. Weird. But I can live with that.





I've also been overlooking a leak on the front passenger side, and now a leak in the back door. I've learned to overlook the seatbelt problems and the fact that I get 15 mpg at best.




But this weekend, the speakers have started to die. And I am finally ready to car shop. Because I'm not driving around without a radio.





What I want in a new vehicle: small SUV, big tires, big side mirrors, headlights that turn themselves off automatically, roof rack, third row seating is a bonus but not necessity. 20 mpg or better required. Comes in red is a plus.





Tim is pushing me toward a Honda CRV. I have two friends with Subaru Foresters that they love. And my sister has a Ford Escape Hybrid which is awesome. My personal taste is running toward the Nissan Rogue or the Chevy Equinox.





What do you drive? How do you like it? Help me! I am suffering from a severe case of decision-itis, aka choice-o-phobia.

Family Fun Day. Really, why do I bother?

We just waited over 20 minutes in line for lunch. At Ikea. And then? Left without shopping. Because? Carlie had a melt down. A. Melt. Down. The girl is almost 12 years old and the situation would be comical if it were just a tad less tragic.

If you have young children, especially daughters, I will warn you now. The terrible two's are a JOKE compared to the onset of puberty. Seriously. Because this pre-teen shit? Is the pits.

So now I am home alone, our day of family fun cancelled, and everyone banished from the house. Carlie's beef (today) is with her Dad (mostly) and her sister (a little bit), so I sent them out to "work it out," where in "sent them out" means came home from Ikea, was first out of the car and into the house, where I dead bolted the door and texted Tim 'ALL OF YOU NEED TO GO AWAY RIGHT NOW'. So they're at Erinna's soccer game, and no one is allowed back into the house until they have become a happy family unit once again.

I will take my solitude anyway I can find it.

It's not a purchase, it's an investment.

Somewhere between the madness of Hoarders and the fabulosity of American Pickers is... me. It's a fine line, that line between BUYING EVERYTHING ALL THE TIME and picking up random treasures as opportunities present themselves. I've had an excellent run of treasure hunting lately, feeding my crazy love for anything and everything from the 60s and 70s, so behold the fruits of my labors.

"Hollow" wooden lamp with barrel shade, circa 1960s. Consignment store, $29

1970s ceramic lamp with HUGE barrel shade. And in front of the lamp? GRAPES! Amber colored grape cluster with driftwood stem. OMG. Could you die? Lamp $18 and grapes $10 at the Antiques and Collectible show in Portland last weekend

Alacite lamps by Alladain with calla lilly pattern, circa 1951. In chartreuse! THEY ARE DIVINE. Picked up a pair of them at a garage sale for $30. For the pair! Added shades from Target for $10 each and these are by far my favorite thing ever. And as a bonus, I've priced them online for over $200 each. Booyah! Best. Garage. Sale. Find. Ever.

Another find that is officially one of my favorite things in the universe. Two serigraphs, signed by the artist, David Weidman, and dated 1974. I saw these in a consignment store while Tim was fishing in Alaska, matted and framed in gold (ick) metal frames, $60 for the pair. They're kind of HUGE so I wanted to let Tim see them before I bought them, and luckily they were still there the next week and they had been marked down to $50 for the pair. LOVE LOVE LOVE.

Painted the frames black and hung them. The owls and the Alladain lamps are so beyond a perfect match for the yellow and green bedding that we already have. PERFECT.

And lastly, I picked up this dropleaf table, built in the mid 60s. I don't even need a table, but I fell in love with it. It's currently in my garage waiting for me to find the perfect chairs. It's in near perfect condition and has character out the wazoo.

Picked up on Craigslist for $100. Seriously.

So there you go, my treasures of 2010. On my need list: midcentury coffee table, new but retro style couch, and I'm considering replacing Carlie's queen bed with two twins. Oh, and of course the hunt is on for the perfect dining chairs.

It was the best of times... it was the worst of times

For some reason, the gods of cool were smiling down on me today and many cool things came my way, making me quite giddy.

I received an email today informing me that my chicken fajita soup recipe had achieved runner-up status in a contest that I forgot I entered. $25 cash prize. Holla.

Also through the wonders of the Internet, I have been mistaken for a real blogger and have received not only passes for a press screening of Ramona and Beezus, but a chance for a phone interview with Selena Gomez. This has upped my cool factor in the eyes of my child by about 200%.

Because I have a new pastime of hanging at the pool, I have been in search of the perfect insulated non-glass pitcher for taking a batch of cocktails to the pool. And today I found it. At Goodwill. For $3.99 in all of its retro glory.

With that $25 cash prize burning a hole in my pocket, I also hit the fabric store to purchase fabric for a quilt I am planning for my oldest, Maggy. And guess what? Didn't even know it, but all quilt fabric was half off. Are you seeing a trend here? I am golden, people. Gold. En.

My bargain mania took me on one final stop to Ross, in search of a case for my iPhone and a spare pair of sunglasses for the pool. Found both. On sale. Cha-ching.

And when I got to the register, the twatty little cashier asked, "Are you 55 or older?" to see if I qualified for the senior discount.

BITCH.

What crows feet? What divet in my forehead? Bags under the eyes, who?

I'm not exactly what you might call *fiscally minded*

So? What? Sue me. I like stuff. I especially like to buy stuff. No crime in that.

But as part of our big downsizing adventure, the buying of new stuff doesn't really fit in. Thankfully, we don't have *much* consumer debt, but we do have a mortgage, and a home equity line of credit, and my student loans. And as of last week, an IRS payment plan for the next year. Thanks, Uncle Sam! I'm not bitter. 35% self-employment tax sounds perfectly reasonable! Fuckers.

When I say we don't have *much* consumer debt, I should actually be saying we don't have *any* consumer debt. Except, see, here's the thing. After several years of NOT HAVING ANY CREDIT CARDS? We now have a credit card. One that accumulates Alaska Air miles, to be exact. Because Tim is going to Alaska on a week-long fishing trip in the fall.

In theory, the plan is sound. I have some medical bills to pay off. Instead of paying them with a check, let's pay them with an Alaska Air credit card and get air miles, then write the check to Visa instead. Look at us! Working the system! It's basically like my gallbladder is paying for Tim to get a free ticket to Alaska.

See? The theory is sound.

But in reality, things sometimes go awry, wherein *sometimes go awry* = Shit Happens! Shut Up! Don't Judge!

It is at this point in the tale of my economic downfall that I'd like to point out, I STILL DON'T HAVE AN iPAD, THANK YOU VERY MUCH. That right there? Means I am fiscally maturing.

But I digress. One medical bill on the Visa becomes two medical bills on the Visa, becomes this months dance classes for Carlie on the Visa and then BAM we have a Visa bill for the month that equals more than I can pay for the month and, voila, we have rejoined the ranks of EVERY ONE ELSE IN AMERICA with the stupid consumer debt.

On the plus side, it's like a thousand bucks and we'll pay it off next month. On the minus side, it reopened the can of worms in our house called BUDGET NEGOTIATIONS and, la la la la, I can't hear you, Tim. Budget schmudget.

Except that this time? The budget schmudget discussion? Got kind of ugly. With the end result of me (having a hissy fit) making a mature and well-thought out decision to STOP HANDLING ANY HOUSEHOLD MONEY. For real.

So I am no longer carrying a debit or credit card. I have cash. Cash for what I need. And then when the cash is spent, I obviously don't need anything else. Bwahahahaha.

But today, I needed groceries. So I took $40 cash to the grocery store, because I didn't need a lot of groceries, just some fresh produce to go with the salmon and pork roast that I pulled out of the freezer to get us through the rest of the week. And cat food. And Snapple. And feta cheese. You can probably see where this is going.

So, in sum, I have a newsflash for you. $40 is not enough to buy shit! I know for some of you that news flash actually came out in, like, the early Nineties when you became adults and starting doing your own shopping. So maybe it's more of a news reflash. Whatever it is... it bears repeating. $40 is not enough to buy shit!

That's it. There's really no point here other than (a) I am now functioning on a cash only basis, because when I say I'm going to make a point, I make a point and (b) shit is expensive! and (c) I still don't have an iPad.

Okay... so I went back to Target, but I DID NOT enjoy it

I know. Shut up.

Oregon law just went into effect making talking on your cell phone while driving illegal. I spend a lot of time zipping down I5 between Portland OR and Vancouver WA, wherein zipping means sitting in bumper to bumper OMG WILL WE EVER MOVE traffic, and frankly, that I5 corridor is kind of my prime talking on the phone time.

So I decided to find my hands-free headset. Which I did find. In the console of my car. Sitting in a puddle of Purel, wherein puddle means completely submerged and OMG ISN'T THIS STUFF SUPPOSED TO JUST DISSOLVE?

I went to Best Buy to buy a new hands-free set. Not a fancy Blue Tooth. Just a $15 over-the-ear dealio that plugs into the headphone jack of the phone. But at Best Buy? The $15 dealio costs $40. Yeah, whatever.

Right across the street from Best Buy was the new Target. And even though I knew there would be spacious aisles and bargains inside? I didn't even want to go in. That's how done with Target I am. There was no beckoning, so siren's song. But Tim was, all, can we please just get this stupid shopping trip over with, and so into Target we went.

I don't know how I never noticed it before, but Target smells like China. But I digress.

I went in, got the $15 headset dealio for $15 and took it to the register, where I paid for it with cash.

ME: I'd like a couple of extra copies of my receipt, please.

CASHIER: Huh?

ME: I'd like a couple of extra copies of my receipt, please.

CASHIER: Um, I'll have to get a manager for that.

ME: That's fine. I can wait.

MANAGER: Can I help you?

ME: Yeah, I just paid cash for this headset and I'd like a couple of extra copies of the receipt, please.

MANAGER: Why?

ME: Because if this is defective and doesn't work, and I happen to lose my receipt, I don't want to end up stuck with it for the rest of my life, like I have the last two times I've tried to return things to your store.

MANAGER: (prints receipt)

CASHIER: (hands me receipt)

ME: Thank you!

TIM: Seriously? Does that make you feel better at all?

ME: Um, yep.

Target, New Job, Enchiladas and Bathroom Remodel... not in that order

I need to be dressed and out of here in 20 minutes, to take Carlie and a friend to a *family sock hop* at church; wherein *family sock hop* = could not get Tim to attend even if I promised there'd be strippers there. Of course, he would probably see right thru that promise since the sock hop is at church. He is clever like that.

But I have so many extremely important topics to blog on, I thought it highly imperative that I get on my computer right now, when I should be getting dressed, to tell you all about it.

First up, I made the most fabulous chicken enchiladas ever. With homemade sauce. For real. I've got the recipe up on my food blog, Rotisserie Chicken is the New Black. I am still in love with myself for that clever title, fyi.

We are in the midst of a bathroom remodel. Remodel is probably understating the situation. We completely gutted a bathroom pretty much down to the studs and now a contractor is rebuilding it for us. With posh new everything, including a tile shower with a spiffy custom door that cost me eleventy million dollars. We are doing this in hopes of helping move along the sale of our house, you know, because I decided to move SEVEN FRIGGIN' MONTHS AGO. So there's that.

Also on the, "oh yeah, guess what?" front, I am starting a new job February 1. It's really the same job that I do now, but I'll be doing it for a big company instead of for my lonely self. I have been self-employed for, like 15+ years, so this will be interesting. There is a small part of me that seriously thinks I might not be fit for social interaction on that kind of level (see Target saga below). Because? Almost every person I encounter on a daily basis is stupid, and I've gotten kind of bad about hiding my disdain for everyone and their stupidity. But, hey, it's an adventure, right? RIGHT?

And now to the most important topic of the night, which I now have about ten minutes to tell you about: my spectacular blaze of glory breakup with Target. YES, TARGET. I know. But seriously, their eff-ed up return policy has pushed my button for The. Last. Time.

Back story: In the summer, I bought an exercise ball thing from Target. And it would not inflate. It had a hole in it. So I took it back. I had paid cash for it THE WEEK BEFORE, but lost the receipt. They would not take it back. At all. It was DEFECTIVE. I had gotten zero use out of it. And they would not take it back. They could not exchange it for another one, because they had sold out of them and they didn't have any idea when they would get more. They would not do a store credit. NOTHING. The customer service manager (yes, I demanded to speak to a manager) was a snotty little bitch who basically said, if you don't have a receipt, screw you.

This kept me out of the Target store for a while. But eventually I was lured back in by their spacious aisles and low prices.

Now on to the break up, and I'll give you the short version. It all began Christmas 1997. Ha! I know, short version, right? Well, in 1997 I gave Tim a beautiful Wenger watch that he loved and wore every single day. Until October of 2009. When he lost it. He took it off while playing basketball, and then forgot about it, and when he went back for it a day later, it was gone. So he needed a new watch.

In November, I was on one of my three-times-per-week trips to Target, and saw a nice looking Timex watch, on clearance for $54, so I bought it. I was kind of pissed that he had lost the nice watch I had bought him, oh, you know, 10+ years ago, so I was being passive-aggressive and only replacing it with a cheapy Timex. And also, stupid me, I paid cash because it was going to be a birthday gift and I didn't want it to show up on the bank account if I used a debit card.

Gave Tim the watch in December, and after about three weeks of wearing the watch, it stopped keeping time. The battery was not dead, it just would start and stop and was generally weird. It also did weird date stuff, like changing the date at 2:14 in the afternoon. And then the band broke. So basically, the watch was a piece of shit that fell apart after about a month.

I put it back in its box, the box it came in, with the Target price tag still on it, and forgot about it. MY BAD. I KNOW. SORRY. But eventually, I remembered, and I took it back to Target this week.

And they won't take it back. It is defective. It is broken. They won't take it back.

They pulled it up in their computer, confirmed that, yes, they did carry that watch back in November but, no, they don't have it anymore.

I was not happy. I did not hide my unhappiness. It was not one of my prouder moments.

I was thisclose TO THROWING THE WATCH at the customer service girl's head. Like, I cocked my arm back with the box in it to throw it at her. I am not joking. And, yes, I realize there is something wrong with me. I pulled my shit together and walked out. And then turned around, went back in, and cocked back again with the box to throw it at her head, at which point I realized I should probably be on some kind of medication. Also? Carlie was WITH ME this entire time, and said something along the lines of, "Mommy, I'm scared," and snapped me out of it. So basically, I am mentally defective, and it is Target's fault. In case you were having trouble tracking this story.

The next day, I logged on to the Timex web site, and they have a one-year return policy. I need to send them the watch, NO RECEIPT NEEDED, and $8 to cover return shipping, and they will fix it or replace it. If it is that easy for me to do it, then HOW FREAKING EASY WOULD IT HAVE BEEN FOR TARGET TO RETURN IT TO TIMEX?

And so there you have it. I will never shop at Target again. The End.

PS: I am now late for the sockhop. You're welcome.

Overwhelming much?

One tiny corner of the huge computer section of Fry's. Is your head exploding yet?

I hate shopping for a new computer. I hate getting new computers. I would be happily plodding along on my 7-lb IBM Think Pad running Windows 98 if the world would let me. Have I mentioned that I am adverse to change? Wherein adverse to change means leave me the fuck alone, world.

But my PC died. And I need another. And there's a lot of drama and expense and blah blah blah involved in that with the end result of a field trip to Fry's 7th Circle of Electronic Hell for a new computer, with an operating system that I loathe and which is incompatible with much of what I do, but with the promise of a snazzy new Windows 7 upgrade on October 22. Whatever.

Lest I mislead, I should also clarify that I ONLY hate shopping for new computers. I pretty much love shopping for anything else. Especially purses. And shoes. And cars. And furniture. And... you get what I mean. I am a firm believer in more expensive REALLY DOES equate with better quality, and also that bigger REALLY IS better, as well as gluttony, sloth and excess.

But new computers make me feel old. Old and feeble. Old and feeble and mildly retarded. And mostly old. Old, as in what I thought of my mother when we introduced her to the concept of the newfangled *cordless phone* and she really did not want to part with that curley-cue cord that plugged into the phone and made it feel more like a *real phone.* 

So now I am going to scourge through the office and the guest room and the junk drawer and the CD collection and try to find software and drivers and whatever to load onto my new computer, with quad-core this and 4 gig that, which I kind of hate even though I have not officially even touched it yet, which I am sure I will learn to love, eventually, and which will probably die a fiery death as soon as I load shit on it and customize it and get familiar with it. Because? Have you met my track record with computers?

PS: can you tell by the number of links in this post that I am totally procrastinating going down to the office and actually doing all of the things I just described needing to do?

Shopping

The solution to Carlie's boredom. We went to the mall. Because? Gift cards left over from Christmas and birthday. Carlie's exact request was, "Mom, do you think everyone is finished returning things from Christmas yet," because that's the line I have been feeding her for almost THREE MONTHS. No, honey, we can't go to the mall because of the after Christmas crowds. (Yes, I do realize that some day she will be able to see right through my bullshit stories but not yet, so, yay!)

Anyway. We went to the mall. She had a gift card for Claire's, one for Sweet Factory and a generic "mall gift card" for any store.

There is a point to this. Thank you for hanging with me this long.

The Sweet Factory. Do you have one of these at your mall? If not, it's a candy store. Just candy. Lots of candy. Sweet candy, sour candy, gummy candy, crunchy candy, chocolate candy. Mix and match candy, candy by the pound.

What kind of deviant mind gives a child a Sweet Factory gift card for her 10th birthday?

Actually, I think it is kind of genius and I'm jealous that I didn't think of it myself. But I am totally claiming this as my own move and guess what the nieces and nephews will be getting for their birthdays henceforth? Candy! Candy, Candy and More Candy!

Do you have a "signature gift" move? In the past, I did cowboy boots for the nieces and nephews, which has always been a HUGE SUCCESS, but that has gotten kind of difficult size-wise as the kids have gotten older. But now? Candy for everyone. Their parents are going to LOVE me.

This is why I should not be allowed to turn the TV on during the day

I just got home from my job in Hood River. Cloudy drive out there, quick 1.5 hour depo at the hospital, and beautiful, sunny drive home. Since I was able to charge travel time on this one, all in all not a bad day's work.

I have two hours of alone time before I head over to pick up Carlie, so I flipped on the TV. And was immediately sucked in by Susan Lucci in an infomercial for the Malibu Pilates Chair. And now? My life will not be complete until I own a Malibu Pilates Chair for the price of $350.00. Because? I am a SUCKAH with a capital SUCK. 

The sun is shining. The TV is off. And I am going to go for a run and try to work the burning shopping desire out of my system. You would think being completely broke and on the brink of abject poverty would be enough to quell that shopping desire. But I am here to tell you... not so much.

Have you ever been the victim of an infomercial? Share your AS SEEN ON TV moment in the comments.

Haves and Have Nots

Tim and I went grocery shopping at Trader Joe's Saturday. Unfortunately, we did not bring with us either a list or a responsible adult. As a result, we still do not have: bread, eggs, milk, sugar, cold-cuts and other sack lunch type foods for Carlie (who brown bags it every day because her school has no cafeteria).

However, while foraging for breakfast foods this morning, I discovered that we do have: two tubs of creamy goat cheese, four bags of croutons, six opened and partially used boxes of hot cocoa mix,  eight opened and partially used salad dressings and two unopened bags of craisins.

And while not nearly as exciting as finding this in your fridge, I do have three tubs of not-butter, two completely empty and one half-full. The completely empty ones? Still in the fridge. Why? Because I do not live alone is why.

What's on your shopping list this week?

PS: We are now officially OUT OF TOILET PAPER. Shit. No pun intended.

TAX MAN UPDATE: We did pay quarterly taxes, but apparently not enough. Also being brought to my attention, I made 10k less in 2008 than I did in 2007. The fact that I was the primary caregiver for an infant might be a contributing factor.

ALSO: I contemplate divorcing every time we do taxes. And when budgeting for Christmas shopping. Twice a year near divorce moments, that's not so bad overall, is it?

This and that

My most hated cliche of all time, but TGIF. Really.

My status report:

Head cold? Check. Clear snot turned to green in the last two days, but now seems to be magically disappearing. Maybe I'll wake up dead tomorrow, though, because this cold is not following any normal course.

Auction dress? Check. In fact, check and check. I have a navy dress and I bought the green one as well. Clearance pricing on both, and I am going to return whichever one I don't wear. I am going to try to get photos up in each and ask for opinions. The blue is a nice fit, but blech color. The green is a gorgeous color and good fit.

Something something: Gone. Returned to sender. No harm no foul. I have been restored to my original bling-free status. For the moment. Unfortunately, another bauble may have caught my eye in the process and might possibly have been accidentally purchased and on its way. I don't know, maybe I dreamt the whole thing? Maybe I am having shopping blackouts? Maybe this is something that I can get SSI disability for?

Work: Ugh. Had to give away a job today because of my sicky status. But I had an old "hold" job call in and order, so at least I am generating some income. I have 200 pages to proofread this weekend.

Weekend? Here! Yay! In addition to 200 pages of proofreading, Carlie has a basketball game tomorrow at 11 in Milwaukie, then a friend over for the day and a sleepover. We are going to family movie night at her school Saturday night, and Tim is part of the "catering" crew, so this should be interesting. And I've got auction prep volunteering to do Sunday from 9 a.m. to noon'ish. Then? Free time. Yay, just in time to start gearing up for Monday : )

Run report: I ran three miles and walked about two on Tuesday and ran four miles today. If the stars are properly aligned, I'll be hitting a 7.5-8 mile run on Sunday, which keeps me on track with my half marathon training schedule for the April race. If this cold sidelines my run this weekend, I'll be off schedule and, in a word, screwed.

Food report: Had lunch at Claim Jumper yesterday and today. Had doritos and hershey's kisses for dinner tonight. Had pizza and oreos for dinner last night. Diet? What diet? I don't need no stinkin' diet.

Weather report: There's a nasty rumor circulating that we may get more snow this weekend. I am so over winter.

Lost: I've watched half of the season premiere. I only made it through half before slipping into a comtrex/red wine induced coma. Going to watch the rest tonight. So far, though, I love it.

Now I'm off to visit blogs and see what everyone else is up to. Happy weekend to all and to all a good night.

Christmas Eve Party Eve

It's the most stressful day of the year for my family. It's the day we clean and clean and clean before our 50+ guests descend for our Christmas Eve Open House. I try to make it a festive and cheery cleaning extravaganza with music and snacks and even prizes for various cleaning contests, but my children are too sophisticated to fall for that shit and basically just ignore me, do their chores as quickly and half-assedly as possible and get the hell out of my way.

But this year, Mother Nature is on my side! No one can go anywhere to escape Christmas Eve Party Eve because the snow has basically made them all my captives. Ha ha! Snow day that, kids!

I asked a question a while back re: what other people were spending on or buying for their kids, and didn't get a lot of responses. My shopping is finished and here is the final tally. NOTE: feel free to stop reading right now if you could not give a shit what I bought my kids for Christmas. You won't hurt my feelings at all and if you choose to leave now, good bye and Merry Christmas!

Also note, We were keeping things pretty simple and then grandpa sent cash asking us to get gifts for the kids. So that bumped up each kid a notch from "small gifts" to small gifts plus one biggish gift from us and grandpa.

Out of towners: I sent Maggy pajamas ($30), Iris three DVDs that Maggy requested ($40) and a gift certificate to a restaurant for Maggy and the boyfriend ($50). 

For the in-house kids: Taylor has a hat that I have knitted for him, a pair of gloves, pajamas, a gift certificate to a favorite local coffee house and a "credit" from us/grandpa towards the purchase of a new bicycle, which he desperately wants/needs for commuting to school and work, but wants to wait until after Christmas to purchase as he is a frugal lad and knows he'll get a better deal. And when I say credit towards, that's because his idea of a good deal on a bike is $600, and my idea of a Christmas gift is under $200.

For Erinna, I have knitted a hat and purchased an iPod touch, which was a 50/50 gift from us and from grandpa, otherwise she wouldn't be getting it. Also pajamas and a CD that she wanted.

And for Carlie, a combination of gifts from mom and dad and grandpa and Santa: Flip video camera (from grandpa, actually), pajamas and everything on her list, which was a pretty flimsy list so it was easy (a couple of music CDs, a movie DVD, Starbucks gift card, two games for Nintendo DS). I'll be holding back one of the Nintendo games and one of the CDs to save as birthday gifts for her on 12/28.

And for my husband, I knitted him a hat and a pair of socks. Purchased new pajamas. And he's getting a homemade card with the promise of a back scratch every night for a year. A back scratch at the end of the day is, like, the way to get that man to do practically anything. So it's a win win.

I was having a philosophical dilemma today about the "snow days" we're both having from work. Last time we lost time for winter weather was in 2004 when we were hit with a raging ice storm. At the time, we were both gainfully employed by someone other than ourselves and it was like, OH YEAH, BABY, SNOW DAY. Because no work but you still get paid? Who doesn't love that.

But now we're both self-employed. And no work = no pay. Period. Do not pass go. Do not collect $200. While we're enjoying the chance to be home during this holiday build up week, we're going to be paying for it monetarily this time next month. And that reality sucks.

But then I go out in the snow, and slide my car to the grocery store to get bread and diet coke, and realize that attempting to get anywhere would be suicidal. Which is why everything is closed and no one is venturing out. So there's really no choice but to relax and let nature take its course and deal with the consequences when we get there. That perspective helped me be able to enjoy the down time tremendously. Someone remind me of it when I am crying broke in January and wondering how I got so broke.

To wind down the day and celebrate the eve of Christmas Eve Party Eve, we had a lovely dinner at La Bottega and booked our New Years Eve reservation for a wine tasting dinner. Now are dropping the kids off at home and going over to the home of friends for poker and cocktails. Tomorrow? Another snow day. My booked jobs have cancelled and Tim cannot get to his office in Gladstone, Oregon. Hopefully we can keep the anxiety and bay and enjoy it.

Bona Fide Snow Day

It's 36 degrees out, the sun is shining bright and we have a real snow day, finally. There is no snow or ice on the roads. Nothing is slick or dangerous or treacherous. Just wet.

I went to the gym and ran 5.25 miles on the treadmill while watching Prison Break, episode 1 of season 1. I've been waiting, um, like, three years? to watch Prison Break. I had forgotten about it, and then read Cheri's Blog and saw a mention and remembered, oh, yeah! So now Wentworth Miller is my running buddy. I'm sure running buddy will evolve into a best friend, then friend with benefits, and then eventually I'll be forced to make some hard choices regarding my marriage, but for now it's strictly platonic. And, frankly, if he can keep me on a good running schedule through the winter, it's a risk I'm willing to take.

I swore I was done with Christmas shopping after my two lame-ass trips to Target, but I need to make one more run. And then that's it. Done. And if you are a kid of mine and you're reading this, if they don't have it at Target, sorry, then Santa doesn't have it either. That's how Santa rolls.

How you like me now

PS: only two more pairs that have not been photographed yet, then I'll be able to stop with the Doc Marten posts. I swear.

Short black zip up boots. Doc Martens. $15. Uh-huh.

The Magical Kingdom

I swear, I am almost ready to shut up about the warehouse sale. Almost. Bear with me.

Here is a shot of a tiny corner of the warehouse full of shoes. I seriously considered bringing my real camera to the sale, but thought it might slow me down, so camera phone shots will have to do.

One of the many tables covered with shoes. Beneath the tables were boxes full of shoes.

Two more of the ones I bought. NO, THEY ARE NOT THE SAME. Note the color difference, the detailing on the lighter brown as opposed to the simplicity of the darker. THEY ARE NOT THE SAME.

I ended up with these two pair of double strap Mary Janes, the Leopard print Mary Janes featured yesterday. What you haven't seen yet is one more pair of brown Mary Janes (shut up), single strap and tannish, and two pairs of boots. Gotta get some boot pictures going, they are divine.

Did I mention every freaking pair of shoes I bought cost $15? FIFTEEN DOLLARS. Shutting up about the shoes for today now.

Behold the wonder...

How freaking fabulous are my feet right now? 110% freaking fabulous, that's how fabulous. Don't hate me. And also? You can't see it in the photo, but they are suede-ish.

More shoe photos will be forthcoming if I ever decide to wear another pair. I may wear these to bed tonight, under the covers.

Dear Diary,

I've been sitting in bed with my laptop since 6:45 a.m., just going to read my email and check the weather REAL QUICK before going on my run. It's now 7:37 a.m. and I'm still here. Wah. Sometimes getting out of the freaking bed is so hard to do.

Per my "training plan," Sunday is my "long" run day. Long for me being an earth-shattering five miles so far. But the distance only increases every other week, so today my "long" run is only three miles. I can do three miles. I can do three miles easily. Why am I still in bed? The sun is even out already (it's 7:42) and it looks like it's going to be a gorgeous day.

Carlie had her last soccer game yesterday, which was also a gorgeous day. Miracle of all miracles, THEY TIED! This is the first game they have not lost this entire season. They tied 2 to 2 and really they had a third goal, but it was called off-sides, which, please, the girls are 9 years old and don't really understand off-sides. This is the first year that they actually call it, and half the refs have and half haven't and they haven't worked on that in practice, so the girls have no idea why they didn't get that third goal, but whatever, THEY TIED and they were so happy. It was a great way to end the season.

The only thing that could have made it better would have been if the coach had just handed them their damned trophies right then and there and we could be done with it. But, no, we are now having an awards night/pizza party. The end of season pizza party is one of the most dreaded nights in my life. I may have said this before, but I really can't handle being around other people's kids for long stretches, especially when they're jacked up on rootbeer and trophy receiving endorphins. But whatever, I can do ANYTHING for two hours, right?

I was supposed to be at a fabulous brunch this morning for a birthday celebration of one of my favorite people and best friends. But sadly she is sick as an effing dog on her birthday weekend, so we're going to push it back a week. But funny story about making the reservation. A friend called up and made the brunch reservation. The hostess asked, "Is this a special occasion?" and friend K responded, "Yes, it's a 50th birthday party."

And the hostess, who was probably about 11 years old, said, "Wow! That's great! A 50th birthday!" enthusiastically, and then in a quieter voice, "Will stairs be an issue?"

Hello? I am 42 and if stairs are an issue by the time I turn 50, please put me down gently now.

Because 50? Yeah, it ain't as old as I used to think it was when I was 20-something. Of course, I also remember thinking that 40 was ancient. Like blue-hair use-a-walker don't-forget-your-oxygen ancient. Then my husband and my girlfriends threw me a raging 40th birthday party complete with a BAND in my LIVING ROOM and inappropriate dancing and oyster shooters and flaming shot drinks all night long and, hello 40! Apparently 40 is the new 17, where you drink till you puke and call it a good time! Yay! Best Night Ever.

Plan for today is go for a run. Soak in the tub (my new Sunday ritual). Do laundry. Go to the Doc Marten's Warehouse sale again and buy myself a pair of black Mary Janes. I bought a pair yesterday but gave them to a friend last night because they are so cute and looked really cute on her feet and I knew I'd be going back today anyway. I bought myself so far a pair of maroonish MJs and a beige T strap wedge which is super cute but a half-size too big. Don't know if I'm actually going to be able to wear them in real life, but they are cute cute cute. So today I want black Mary Janes, maybe a pair of boots and sandals if I can find any. Yesterday I saw no cute sandals. I'll try to remember to snap some pictures of the mayhem of the sale, but yesterday I was so caught up in contributing to the mayhem with my frantic digging through boxes of shoes that taking a photo was the last thing on my mind.

Also? I'm trying to think of a clever name for a local co-op type blog, but I've got nothing. Some already in existence are : New Jersey Moms Blog, Chicago Moms Blog, San Diego Blog Bitches. I know we can come up with something catchier than "Vancouver Moms Blog" or "Washington Moms Blog," and by "we" I mean someone who is not me, because apparently I can't come up with jack.

Going for that run now. It's 7:57. Oh, and crap, and I need a title for this post. That could keep me here for another five minutes. How about "random shit"?

Got my 'net back, plus a giant hefty bag full of shoes

Thank God. And no one had to be hurt.

But now I am tired and annoyed and haven't even had a chance to write about my trip to the Doc Marten's Warehouse sale and the ELEVEN pairs of shoes I bought. Only two ended up being for me, the rest have already been claimed by others. But the good news is I am going again tomorrow, yay!

I'd love to know exactly HOW and WHY a wall jack stops working for DSL, a wall jack that the same modem has been plugged in to for YEARS without anything moving or changing or being altered at all. Then, WHAM, you have no Internet and someone in Sri Lanka is telling you to unplug it and try another jack and you're all, like, HELLO, I AM NOT A RETARD THE JACK IS FINE, then you do what they tell you to do anyway just so they'll GET OFF YOUR ASS and it turns out they're right. Go figure.

I'm Bringing Sexy Back

I recently eavesdropped on a phone call that Mrs. G had with her pesky nerve. I didn't mean to listen, but Mrs. G, well, her voice carries. After listening in, I felt oddly compelled and prompted by my own nerve to do something outside of my own box.

So I wrote a guest post for Andrea, who in addition to living the Sweet Life, has started an awesome blog called Sexy Makes a Come Back, all about, um, bringing your sexy back. Not that I am assuming that your sexy is missing, but even if your fully-intact sexy just needs a little kick in the ass, check her blog. Kind of like Helpful Hints From Heloise, but we're not talking about getting grape juice out of the rug, if you know what I mean.

And if my link-o-mania is giving you seizures, just click here rather than trying to navigate the linkfest above.