Saturday, September 29, 2007

I'm feeling crafty

I moseyed into Michael's today, looking for a project to turn into my next hobby (as I continue to avoid finishing the quilt a half-heartedly started for Peaches). Almost immediately, I was captivated by the Martha Stewart Craft section. There are labels, ribbons, albums, papers, notecards, glues, nearly everything you need to snazz up your next craft project. All of it is done with Martha's signature subtle style and blue accents. I was dutifully impressed, but left feeling like I always feel after an encounter with all things Martha - opened to possibilities, but shamed for knowing that I'll never live up to Martha's standards.

Don't get me wrong - I secretly dig MS. I think she has good taste and interesting ideas, but I always leave feeling inadequate. How could anyone live up to the multiple houses, the farms, the gardens, the pet collection, the iron ware, the gourmet cooking, the ironing of the bed sheets? Seriously, who has the time? I get tired just watching her work and feel a tiny bit hysterical when I read a feature story in her magazines. She sets a standard of homekeeping perfection that no woman can live up to, and I part of me hates her for making me feel more inadequate than I already do. I was a little glad when she was convicted of lying and obstructing justice (come on M, you're a brilliant woman & former stockbroker, you know what you did was wrong). I have to say she did Man Up and serve her sentence, and I think her public image improved because of it. As much as we Americans like to tear people down, we also love a comeback, and she's really busted her behind to reinvigorate MS Omnimedia. Not only that, but I do adore her new mag, Blueprint, which is much more my flea-markety-DIY-from- the-hardware-store style.

Net/net - get yourselves on down to your local Michael's store & check out her new craft line. You can also find even more on her website here:

Thursday, September 27, 2007


I am so tired. The neighbors woke me up at 4 am with their nighttime romance....which then deteriorated into yelling, screaming, and possible hole-in-the-wall-punching. It was loud enough to wake up the Husband, and we almost called the police, but decided that's not the best way to keep the peace while apartment living.

As I am a light sleeper to begin with, I decided to channel surf and ended up watching Muriel's Wedding. I love this movie. I'd never buy it, but I've probably watched it 6 times, which is a lot for me. I love that Toni Collette is fat in it - seriously, she's gotta be pushing 200 lbs, but she rocks that white satin Abba outfit (not to mention the black pleather w/ zippers). I love that it's about transforming yourself. I don't really dig how she steals her father's money (although he is a denigrating, pompous ass who sort of deserved it), but I do like that she changes her life and becomes someone that SHE loves, not just someone looking for love. I always walk feeling better about myself. I highly recommend it.

Of course, that didn't help my insomnia, nor did my 3 additional attempts to nap. Thankfully it's a quiet night in the DSM, so I can get away with excessive fatigue. The one thing keeping me going right now are the premieres of My Name is Earl and The Office. I'm literally counting down the hours until it's time. Stay tuned for a review of the episodes and my thoughts on the potential for the new season.

Tuesday, September 25, 2007

I am a walking cliche

Everyone wants to be unique, right? That's why we strive so hard to keep up with the Jones' by buying the latest electronic toy, the more expensive car, the most exotic vacation. And also why we cover ourselves in tattoos and piercings, hair in all colors of the rainbow, and seek out the latest, hottest, most unknown designers. But sometimes you just gotta go with the flow and bow down to the cliche that you know is inside you.

I actually walked out of the house wearing striped purple wool socks with my Crocs. And I'm prego, so the belly was front and center in this stunning ensemble, occasionally peeking out from my apparently too small t shirt. I've always mocked the socks with sandals combo, feeling that only European tourists can be excused for this faux pas (they're usually British - 'nuff said). It gets better. I also had to give in to my pickle craving, and although I went to the store to get pickles, I walked out with pickles, 2 pints of Ben & Jerry's, Cheetos, sour cream, cheese bagels, mushrooms, cream cheese and Kleenex. I then came home and ate a pickle, a lemon bar, a few handfuls of popcorn, and some Cheetos. YUM.

Although I'll never look as sweet as a prego Nicole Richie in a bikini, I still love being pregnant and the changes in my body. When else could I eat pickles, Cheetos and lemon bars in the same sitting and not feel guilty?? Then again, ask me how I feel about my body around May 1.

Monday, September 24, 2007

I heart Kohls

I'd never been in a Kohl's until Saturday. I've seen them, but they're not really big in the Northwest. It's hard not to notice them, as they are spreading like wildfire, and with Vera Wang on board, how bad could it be? It was better than I could have hoped. The Vera Wang is pretty awesome (not that I'll be fitting in anything but the shoes in the next 9 months), and they have a nice little Food Network section in Housewares - perfect for my current cooking obsession.

I loved the kid's section too, mostly because everything I bought was 60% off. Exactly what I need when shopping for a 3 year old who has outgrown 90% of her clothes. Seriously - princess pajamas for less than $10? Score!

I am a cliche...... I had a craving for pickles last night. I hate pickles. The only time I can eat them is if they're a dill spear on the side of a nice juicy roast beef sandwich. Of course, if the pickle infects the sandwich with its vile juices, I'd have to toss the whole thing. But man, did I want me a pickle last night. Maybe it was just a Freudian transferrance from watching Brad Pitt's naked ass in Troy last night. That was one long movie, but worth every second for a glimpse of that Golden God Brad. Yummie. Hormones, anyone?

Sunday, September 16, 2007

I want.....

Long time, no blog. I had a trip for a few days, came home exhausted (the red eye sucks, and being prego makes it worse), worked way too much, then the in-laws came to visit for a few days. A bit overwhelming. Now I'm here to blog on a few random topics.

1. I love Gene Simmons Family Jewels. I understand he's a celebrity, and has an enormous ego. But I find him and his family endearing. He and Shannon seem like good parents, their kids seem to be pretty stable for growing up with Gene Simmons as a Dad, and he's over the top enough to be entertaining.

2. I have a serious case of the I-wants. I have some birthday money to spend, and there's a bunch of stuff I want. Should I be smart and hold on to it and use it for more practical, useful stuff like a jogging stroller or a Kitchen Aid mixer (not really practical, but something I've wanted for a long time), or do I hoard it and blow it all on something unnecessary and completely selfish like a Louis Vuitton wallet? Last year I used my birthday money to get a gym membership. I classify that as a practical use. Of benefit only to me, but still practical and not really "fun". I REALLY want the LV wallet, but it's just enough money where I think I'll carry tremendous guilt about buying it. I could buy the stroller AND the mixer for the same amount of money. What to do, what to do?

3. We were on our way to an event yesterday morning, and parking in a parking garage. We all got out of the car, and were gathering our stuff to walk out. I was holding Peaches' hand and waiting for everyone to wrap it up. A car pulls up next to us and a lady proceeds to tell us that we should keep an eye on our child, as she was "kicking her legs out in front of the cars". It took me a minute to process what she said, and in response, I was speechless. First, my child is only 3 and her legs are all of 18 inches long. She may have been kicking her legs out, but unless this woman was going 80 up the ramp or hugging the right and trying to take out a bystander, no one was in danger of being hurt. I was also speechless at the audacity of her stopping to chastise me/ us on controlling my child. She's not a rabid dog. She wasn't darting in and out of the parked cars. She didn't lay down in the middle of the Up ramp. So, What the Heck? Did I tell her she was ugly and had a bad hair cut? No. Some things you just keep to yourself - so the next time you see a kid being a kid, think twice about opening up your big yapper and keep your lips closed unless you want the wrath of Mama laid on your Iowa self.

Saturday, September 1, 2007

Sneeze Alert

I don't know what is going on, but I have sneezed more in the last two weeks than I have in the last few years. Apparently I am allergic to Iowa. It could be the farmland, the humidity, spores, molds & fungus, or perhaps I am allergic to the always-running AC. Whatever it is, I am getting sick of having my nose alternate between running, itching with crusties, or explosively sneezing. Seriously - no one likes to sneeze, and I have always prided myself on having a normal level sneeze. Those days are gone, baby. Now I sneeze so loud that I think the neighbors can hear it (sorry about that). I actually sneezed so hard yesterday that I wet my pants a little bit (I didn't actually pee - being pregnant tends to produce an abundance of moisture. I'll let you get over the ick & just leave it at that).

It's actually getting a bit better. I don't sneeze all day long, it just sneaks up on me & as soon as I sneeze, my nose runs continuously. Attractive. Because I am pregnant, I can't (or specifically, don't) take any medications. I guess if this is the worst that I have to live with, I'm OK with that.

PS - two new obsessions: Katie + Peter (trainwreck - she's pretty, but not THAT pretty. I think I am mesmerized by her giant fake boobs. Those two are just such dippy goofballs, I can't help myself). I'm also loving Ace of Cakes. I wish I had mad decorating skills like that.