20 Years.

I’m in the midst of planning our twentieth reunion. 

From high school.

As in, I graduated from high school twenty years ago. 

Two thoughts permeate my brain.  One, how is that even possible?  Two, my best friend is a hoarder.

So, I should tell you that one of my very best friends moved back to Ohio this summer.  She has lived in Florida for my entire marriage and almost all of the time I have been with Dave.  She has seen my kids grow up through pictures and visits twice a year.  I still sometimes forget that she is here permanently.  It is weird and wonderful to have her a three minute drive away.  It’s bizarre to be able to call her and ask her to come over in the middle of the week.   When we do get together, it feels a little like vacation Natalie, home for just a minute.  Let’s pack everything all into one week of shopping and dinner out and fun!  Woooo! 

Dave just keeps saying, “Well, you DO have a lot of time to make up,” and sending me on my way.  I think he secretly loves it because Natalie tells him all kinds of stories about Fun Michelle.  That is what we call me, in the late nineties.  Fun Michelle are the stories my children won’t hear until they are old and planning their own 20th reunions.  Hopefully.

While we’re on the subject, most of our reunion planning meetings go like this,

HOW is it possible that we have been out of high school for twenty years?

It can’t be twenty years.  Don’t you feel like we’re supposed to still be twenty-two?

Maybe late twenties, max.

Do you think so and so will come to the reunion?  I wonder what ever happened to so and so.

Remember when so and so did that thing in high school that was hilarious?

Remember when you dated so and so?  Ahhhahahaha! 

Well at least I didn’t date so and so!

We were such idiots.

SUCH idiots.

We didn’t get anything done!

Totally, but I laughed so hard, my face hurts.

Worth it.

We also have the added bonus of Natalie memorabilia.  Now, I have a box of stuff from grade school and high school and college.  You throw in your senior pictures, some old grade cards that your mom saved, and a year book or two, right?  Pretty typical?  I feel like a lot of people have that box.

Natalie takes it to another level. 

She has receipts from a store where we used to work, with the cashiers’ names circled.  Did we really need to know that you bought a salad and cheese from Julie in 1993?  Probably not.  How about ticket stubs from movies she went to with names scribbled on the back… it’s important to remember that you, Jay, and Abby went to see Jurassic Park, twenty some years ago.  Have I mentioned every award and certificate she was ever given?  There is a folder full, people.

Oh, I can already hear her yelling at me while she’s reading this.  She’ll tell me it’s not fair if I don’t tell you that her parents just moved and so they went through everything that was packed away there.  She will protest that she was just keeping all of this for our twentieth reunion.  For this very occasion.  She will try to convince you, THAT was the reason she had two copies of everything from our prom program to our commencement announcement.

I maintain that the ticket stubs speak for themselves.  And I am going to wear this 1994 vintage broomball beauty, pinned to my sweater…

Just so you all know, Nat is the best sport in the universe and gave her blessing for this post.  By blessing, I mean, she sighed and told me that she was going to tell you all that we’re only friends because she let me cheat off her in pre-calculus class our junior year. 

Clearly, math is NOT my forte, but choosing best friends is.

No Elf on My Shelf.

I’m creative, I could totally get into the club of these crazy Elf on a Shelf parents doing fun things every night with their elves.  Dying milk different colors, fishing in the sink, taking ornaments off the tree and framing that creepy little doll for it.

But, I’m not.  Multiplied by a thousand. 

Before you think it, I’m not a Scrooge of the Ebenezer variety, nor McDuck.  I love pretty much everything about the holidays.  They are a pretty big deal around these parts, but still, I have a beef with that menacing little midget. 

I want my kids to behave, period.  Not because of an elf or the threat of Santa, but because it’s the right thing to do.  Even that two year old knows when she’s doing something she probably shouldn’t.  While my kids are boundary testing, Dave or I are the ones who are supposed to remind and teach them, that’s our job.  And yes, yes, there are LOTS of ways to get that end result.  Quirky little thing, that parenthood, what works for one, just might not work for another.  I just personally, don’t want them to think that they should behave because an imaginary elf is watching over them.  I even feel a little weird about lying to them about Santa quite honestly, but to the best of our ability, we don’t use Santa as a threat for good behavior either. 

That’s not all. 

The ELF is also adding one. more. thing. to the holiday season.  It’s tough enough parenting right now, let’s face facts.  Your kids are inundated with want, they are sugared up with cookies, they’re tired, and overwhelmed and sometimes cranky.  You have to make decisions that are a good fit for them, for you.  More family, more friends, more giving to others, more down-time, YES.  More obligation, overspending, stress, time I’d rather spend doing something else, or the worry of remembering to move the Elf every night, uh NO.  Nope.  Not even a little bit. 

Plus, it totally reminds me of Chuckie.  That thing just might come after you with a kitchen knife or change your Facebook status to ‘It’s Complicated’ while you sleep.

I know you legions of Elf-ers, if my Pinterest feed is any indication, are all outraged at me right now and that’s ok.  I feel like I should tell you that it doesn’t remotely bother me if you use it in your house, lots of friends have it, including my friend Erin who let me steal her photos of Phineus.  She’s waiting for the day when her kids are like 15 and she can have ol’ Phineus dancing on a stripper pole or engaged in other completely inappropriate behaviors. 

I am not telling you to ditch yours or that you shouldn’t have one.  That would be as assinine as me telling you to ditch any of your other holiday traditions. 

I hear your cries of, It’s fun!  They love it!  It gets them excited for Christmas!  It’s not meant to be taken seriously!  If that works for you and yours, go right ahead.  I’ll laugh along with you at the hilarious pictures of Inappropriate Elf and marvel that you have the time and creativity to come up with these great ideas in the midst of an already crazy holiday season.

We’ll just be Elf-less over here.

Fess up.  Is there an Elf on your Shelf?

Bird Sex. For Amy.

This past summer, Amy used to be fun jobless and my partner in crime for visits to the park or other fun activities.  Now she is gainfully employed and back to school. 

Except this week.

This week is spring break.  Woooooo!  Far from the drunken spring breaks of our youth, this week we're doing fun stuff with the boys and their matching Cars hats that Amy stupidly kindly bought them, that they refuse to take off to celebrate their collective birthdays which are a mere 6 weeks apart.  But I'm mostly not bitter about having a child that wants to wear a Cars hat everywhere or anything.

First up on the list of fun spring break activities... wet t-shirt contest the zoo!

Birds get their freak on.  In front of unsuspecting people visiting the zoo with small children.  I am not sure if I thought they were like the virgin birth or what, but I was shocked.  Where do eggs come from?  I like to think they are gently placed in the nest by the hand of God.  Not the result of the craziness I witnessed today.  Did anyone know this? 

And another bird watched.  It was all very kinky if you ask me.

Amy called him the wingman. 

I really have the corniest most warped funniest friends in the world.

Lest you think that we only watched bird fornication on our educational trip to the zoo, we also saw Nemo and Dorie and jellyfish.  And seals and the polar bears.

And they dressed up like bees.  I am plotting a return trip when they are 16 and making them recreate this photo.  Yeah, I'm not really holding out too much hope that'll happen.

Hold on to your Rembrandts... today we're hitting the art museum.

I Miss My Plastic Charm Necklace.

Once, when Lyndsey and I were little, she shoved American cheese into my Strawberry Shortcake Blow Kiss doll.  You have no idea what I am talking about?  Strawberry Shortcake had baby dolls that, when you squeezed them, would blow fruit scented air into your face.  It was our favorite activity while dancing around in our Wonder Woman underoos watching Saturday morning cartoons.  I believe these days, they call it huffing, but whatevs. We had Lemon Meringue and Strawberry.  And Lyndsey had shoved the american cheese into her mouth which put the end to the strawberry scented goodness until one day, the cheese dried out enough to be dislodged just so.  When we pushed on her belly, she shot cheese out of her mouth at such a great speed that I'm pretty sure Rainbow Brite and Christina Marie were scared.  Christina Marie was my Cabbage Patch... she had a normal name because she was one of the first edition, procured by some miracle the Christmas I was seven  by my Meme from a friend of hers in New York.  Don't tell anyone, but she still lives in my house.

Lynds and I were children of the eighties.  We walked to the drugstore to buy giant flourescent pink triangle earrings.  We wore jelly shoes until our feet blistered.  We had every color of embroidery floss imaginable and would spend hours making friendship bracelets.  That was after the beaded friendship pin craze had died off a bit.  The Christmas that I was in sixth grade, my aunt took me to the Limited to buy an Outback Red shirt, I was in seventh heaven.  It was just about as awesome as my friends renting a white limo for my thirteenth birthday.  We rode around and drank two liters of soda.  How cool can you get?

My aunt also worked for Apple and got a IIe for us.  My mom probably had a $400 phone bill every month in 1987 when we were introduced to Prodigy by my Uncle Jim.  "Mom, we can meet someone in Oklahoma or Maine or New Hampshire!  You just use the phone line!  It is sooooo cool."  It lived in our bedroom, that we somehow convinced my mother to let us paint with bright white walls and black trim.  I can't even fathom the kind of "cool mom" factor it takes to let your pre-teens paint that hideousness with your blessing. 

Of course, it wasn't all Funshine & Cheer Bears, there were bad things too.  It is still the bane of my existance that I lost the tape of Lyndsey falling on her butt captured on my PXL-2000.  I was sure that was my ticket to Bob Sagett and his Funny Videos.  We ran out of cake mix & light bulbs burnt out of our Easy Bake Ovens.  My cousin John had all of his action figures stolen right out of the back of my Meme's Pacer in the parking lot of the grocery store.  And we do have photographic evidence of me only wearing pink and white, mostly flashdance-esque sweatshirts, for about two years of my life.  And the shoulder pads, the shoulder pads.  Who would let a fourth grader wear a turquoise blazer with shoulder pads to school?  That's right.  My mother. 

And the charm necklace.  Ohhhhh the sweet sweet plastic charm necklace.  Filled with clip on charms like a baby bottle, a tennis racket, and an abacus, because in 1985, you never knew when you might need a miniature plastic abacus.  To do your counting of Hello Kitty items or Garbage Pail Kid cards or ummm whatever?  If I had that pink plastic goodness today, I would be forced to wear it AND pretend I was putting on the plastic lipstick charm, the awesomeness was just that powerful.  There is no point in denying it.

This post is really for my awesome friend Merrily, who introduced me to this book, modeled by the gorgeous Christina Marie herself...

It's a book, it's a Trapper, there are images of smelly stickers, it's totally RAD.  I read this and laughed hysterically.  And now, I'm passing it on to one of you.  {Full disclosure, I totally paid for this sucker & already read it.} Leave a comment with YOUR favorite and thing about the eighties.  I will choose a winner on Friday, February 5.

Gotta go.  Digrassi Junior High is on and my crimper is done heating up. 

{UPDATE:  Thank you to all the entries!  The winner, chosen very democratically by writing everyone's name on paper and having Finnegan choose one, is GEORGIE!  Congrats!  I need your address to get your book to you!}

I'd do it all over again. Maybe. Except for the crazy parts.

Here is your fair warning that this post is going to be picture heavy.  And long. 

A few weeks ago, the magnificent bloggy BFF and I were discussing weddings.  Mostly this post is for her, but a little for me too.  I'm not going to lie, I love weddings.  I love peeking in on my friends Facebook pages with their wedding pics, I love reading about strangers' weddings in the blogosphere, & I even love attending them, especially if they don't suck.  Maybe it's the party planning piece, maybe it is all the mushy love junk, but I love them.  I'm just glad that when I was planning, I knew nothing of blogs because I am pretty sure things would have been out of control, there is SO much out there now, so many incredible ideas... just remember this was almost five years ago.  And it was fun, so fun that people still tell us it was the most fun wedding they've ever been to.  I think it's because we viewed the reception as a party and dispensed with all of the traditional stuff. 

We did food stations with a really creative chef that let us do what we wanted.  We had stirfry made in front of you & served out of takeout boxes; and a potato bar that had mashed potatoes & hand cut fries; carved beef with bernaise; and a salad station with vichysoisse... a complete jumble,  but we had all our favorites represented. 

We had a martini luge. 

And a live band.  I am pretty sure that is where the insanity started.  Oh, and it was 9 million degrees out and we got married in a historic church that doesn't have air conditioning.  But I am getting ahead of myself...

Here we are, those little specks there sitting on the alter.

The deacon of my church and the pastor of Dave's both married us.  It was important to us that we were both represented in the ceremony.  Dave chose all of the music, every last piece except the Hawaiian Wedding Song which is my Meme's favorite. 

The girls all chose a black tea length dress in whatever style they wanted and most of them have worn their dresses again, which was our goal.  We had our friends stand up for us no matter what their sex... we still tease my cousin that he was a "bridesman" in our wedding & Dave's sister was his "best woman". 

This is my favorite photo, taken right after the ceremony.  It was published in the Knot Ohio magazine shortly after we were married.  

Oh, and the ridiculously giant bouquet? I had the most important women in my life {there were 24 of them} choose a flower for me to carry.  Something that represented them or me or us and they wrote why they chose their flower on a beautiful card that I was able to keep. 

I didn't care that a bird of paradise was nestled in next to a white rose that was bumping up against a calla lilly, or that it was huge, or that my florist thought I was nuts.  I absolutely loved having them 'with me' as I married Dave.

We gave our photographer approximately 20 minutes for posed photos before we were on to the reception in a giant bus that we rented one week before {a GENIUS idea Mom!} the wedding.  Thankfully, Kristen only thought we were slightly nuts and got us on our way.  We didn't want to miss the reception.  She really captured everything we wanted in such an unobtrusive fantastic way without needing posed pics. 

Now we're on to the reception.  

We really wanted to do our own thing.  We went traditional with the ceremony, so the party was about us.

Our parents about had a heart attack that we weren't having a cake.  Or doing the cake cutting.  Or the bouquet toss.  Or the garter thing.  Or making our guests sit around for an hour while we danced a million dances.  We skipped all of it.  

We heard, "you're doing what??!?" a lot during planning.  It still makes me laugh just thinking about it.  

Here is what we DID do... 

A Polaroid guest book. These pictures are hilarious. And when we ran out of film because everyone took a ton of crazy fun photos, people started drawing in pictures of themselves. I love that book, even years later we pull it out.  Who can say that about a guest book?

A candy buffet.  Now, everyone and their mother does them, but it was pretty out there back then. 

My mother thought this was the dumbest thing ever.  She told Dave the morning of the wedding  that she thought we would be carting home 57 pounds of candy at the end of the night. Then, she walked into the reception and saw giddy 21 year olds and 57 year olds both filling bags and squeeling like the little kids that were in line behind them.  There were a few giant buttermint peppermints left at the end of the night that I happily took home because they are my favorites.  Janet eating her words was even sweeter.

We had frozen novelties in lieu of cake.  And don't forget a martini from the luge.  We also had a full bar complete with a keg of Guiness to celebrate our honeymoon to Ireland a little early.  My mom and my aunt went on a wine scouting trip to Napa a few months before the wedding and had wines paired for each food station.

I loved the tables.  We had a small vase with a rose at each place setting.  The favors were homemade {by my BFF's mom as a wedding gift to us} unbelievable caramel turtles.  She makes all of the caramel herself.  We put them in boxes that had all kinds of random facts about us & our bridal party, some were funny, some sweet.  We had so many compliments on this, especially from guests that might not have known a lot of people, it was a great ice breaker to ask everyone else at the table what fact they had.  The escort cards had the table number written in on the back.

Well, there you have it.  Our wedding, or most of it at least.  I'll leave out the crazy parts, maybe another post?  The food was great.  The drinks were strong.  And all night the dance floor was full, so were our hearts knowing how many people flew in, drove in, and made time to be there for us.  That by far surpassed all of the rest.   Thanks for peeking in.
Oh, one more little thing... 

Friends don't let friends stick their heads in martini luges.
{unless you're at our wedding... then, it's pretty normal.}

{All photos in this post were taken by the fabulous Decisive Moment Photojournalism except the last one, taken by my ridiculously talented uncle who was mistaken for a drunk photographer.}

Cooking Challenged

My sisters are insane and beautiful and hilarious and absolutely delightful to be around when they aren't being bitchy.  They are equipped with an innate ability to have fun wherever life might take them, they march to the beat of their own drummers, and they don't mind telling you to buzz off if you don't agree.  They do things like marry a handsome foreigner in a quickie ceremony at the courthouse without telling anyone, pick their colleges out of a hat, or get auctioned off as a date on the local radio station... and those are just the things I'm allowed to tell you.  They do not, however have a lick of cooking sense between the three of them. 

That wasn't fair... there may be a tiny, itsy bitsy bit in there, but for the most part, all of the cooking genes came my way.  Lyndsey can make gorgeous centerpieces out of fruit, Rachael cooked a turkey this year for Thanksgiving with a bit of guidance, and Elise... well, Elise literally measures out 2 quarts of water when cooking Kraft Mac N Cheese because that is what the box tells her to do.  Yeah... she's the one stirring with an "air spoon" on the right.

To remedy this a bit and provide an excuse for my family to have dinner all in one place before Elise returns to school, I decided to teach them how to cook.  Rachael came up with the concept of a cooking lesson, Elise & Lyndsey chose the menu.  I was just along for the ride, some seasoning guidance, and to make sure they didn't burn my house down.  They kicked all kinds of ass in the kitchen.  I'm not going to lie, it made me a little teary, I was so proud of them.

The Menu

Baby Greens with Toasted Pecans, Feta, Apples, Craisins & Homemade Vinaigrette

Sauteed Chicken in White Wine Sauce

Balsamic Honey Glazed Oven Roasted Baby Carrots

Oven Roasted Asparagus

Garlic & Rosemary Smashed Red Potatoes

Baguette

For the vinaigrette, pour 6 full tablespoons of olive oil, 2 tablespoons of apple cider vinegar, 1 tablespoon(ish) of sugar, 2 tablespoons of honey, and about 1/4 a small red onion minced finely into a container with a lid.  I also dump in whatever seasoning I am in the mood for.  Shake vigourously... if you are my idiot sister, you also pose for photos to demonstrate the crazy shaking involved.

The carrots were amazing!  They roasted 2 pounds of baby carrots in the oven at 400 degrees for about 20 minutes with some seasoning and a little olive oil.  They were pulled out of the oven and drizzled with about 2 tablespoons of olive oil, 3 tablespoons of honey, and about 1 teaspoon of balsamic vinegar.  Pop them back into the oven for about 5 more minutes.  They were still a little crunchy, roasted to perfection & tasted wonderfully.

The asparagus was roasted at 400 degrees with olive oil, spices, and the juice of half a lemon.

The rosemary & garlic mashed redskin potatoes were soooo good thanks to Lyndsey!  The potatoes were cut into chunks {the skin stays on} and boiled until tender in salted water, then drained.  In a small sauce pan she sauteed some minced garlic and rosemary in a bit of olive oil, then took the pan off the heat and added butter and cream to let it absorb the flavors.  That whole mix went into the drained potatoes and were hand mashed to perfection. 

The chicken was dredged in flour with seasoning, then into the pan with olive oil to brown on both sides.  Since we were doing so much {we made dinner for TWELVE!} we popped it into the oven to finish at 350 degrees.  Then we poured white wine & a cup of water from the potatoes in the pan to deglaze, let that reduce, added a pat of butter & some spices, then added some half and half stirring until creamy.  Delish!

So there you have it.  A cooking lesson with my best girls.  It got rave reviews, but I'm pretty sure that is because our brothers will eat anything.  {Kidding!  It really WAS good.}  They wanted us to make it a weekly occurance and no one went to the hospital {my dad invited a doctor friend to join us just in case} for food poisoning.  A resounding success I'd say!  So, we're planning to do this again.  What would you like to see them learn to cook? 

Give these Roasted Brussels Sprouts or Sauteed Red Cabbage a try!

As If My Brain Dump Weren't Proof Enough. Uhhhh ADD. Sucky Blogger Alert.

Yep peeps, I have nothing but sucksville for you this week.  The creativity has been captured and thrown out the window... perhaps THAT is the side effect of the H1N1 vaccine?  I personally want to blame it on my adult ADD {self-diagnosed and likely total bullshit excuse for my insane lack of focus on any kind of anything that might bore me and/or cleaning of any kind} or maybe it's just that I am going to visit my little sissy!  Or seeing Em's awesome new house and all I want to do is find great rooms to give her inspiration and I'm sad that I am missing Will's Very Hungry Caterpillar birthday bash because it is right up my party planning alley.  Or that I am watching Dave Matthews on Conan {repeat} and dear Lord in heaven I want to have his babies.  Dave's not Conan's.  Not my Dave, I already have one of those, but Mr Matthews', whew.  But because I am feeling guilty, missing you, don't want you to think I am knocked up, dead, and/or otherwise preoccupied, I give you more awesomeness than I can eeeek out this week from some of my faves.

I really have to have this book. {Design Mom}

Noelle, the most fab TS rep & friend in the world... don't hate me but, I have to try this!  {Short Stop}

She is a genius of epic proportions and I want one of these in the mail.  {Adventures in Renovating a Brooklyn Limestone}

Ditto.  {The Cheap Chica's Guide to Style}

I'm going to attempt the fat girl version of this when we're in Cali because hello! how cute is this?!?! {Fashion Under $100}

Hope she doesn't care when I steal her house fabulousness because really, could these colors be more amazing together?  {Freckles Chick}

Yum.  {Good Things Catered.}

So there you have it.  Hope you enjoyed all of these posts as much as I did.  I'll be soaking up as much Kentucky Bluegrassyness and sister bonding time as I can this weekend.  Enjoy yours!

Carded.

You know that glowy feeling you get when you’re 33 and you get carded? Even when you’re toddler is with you and you’re purchasing THREE bottles of wine? I wasn’t purchasing the wine because of the toddler {mostly}, but I digress. She CARDED me! Granted, Trader Joes probably has a policy of carding everyone under 60 or something, but still. I giggled and hurriedly began looking through my wallet to find my drivers license.


Where is it? Crap. Where did I put it? Whew. There it is. I pulled it out and handed it to the cashier who looked like she was twelve. She gave it a quick glance and handed it back to me. She had figured out in the 60 seconds of me giddily looking for my id that I was in fact probably as old as her mother. Damn. "Wait a minute, can I see that again?" Yesss… she is rethinking that whole mom thing and has decided I could be her hot older sister! "Your license is expired and in the state of Michigan we can not sell alcohol to someone with an expired license. Yep, see it expired in April of 2009."

Shit. Shit. Shit. Shiiit. "Umm, I’ll be right back, lemmejustgoget my husband. He’s in the car."  Shit. I hurriedly ran, with the toddler in tow, out of THE most crowded Trader Joes in the history of man. I KNEW I shouldn’t break my rule of never coming to Ann Arbor ever during football season. {A matter of principle! Go Bucks.} Why did I even stop here? We were an hour late leaving! Oh right, Zingerman’s bakery was the reason we stopped here... and wine. Copious amounts of Two Buck Chuck. Dave is going to laugh at me. I mean when did I let this happen? How did this happen? When did I become THAT mom?

He maybe mentioned mommy brain seventy bajillion times, but he paid the bill and we got the heck out of Dodge. All I could think as we were leaving was how I was now going to have to blog about being made to take my driver’s test again. Ooooh wait, I still have like 5 days until it has been 6 full months. Maybe there is a chance I won’t have to take my test again? 
So... how was YOUR weekend?

I laughed really hard & then messed up all my pictures.

What happens when you're faced with the meet and greet of your 15 year class reunion, you leave your hubby at home and go out with your BFF?  {Pssst... Ash, I'm not cheating, I swear!  Natalie is just the IRL BFF.}  You drink.  Copious amounts of vanilla vodka and ginger ale with a lime. Thankyouverymuch.

That reminds me.  Once I was drinking vanilla vodka and ginger ale and this was before I was married to Dave, I had TWO of them and had to be put to bed by two very dear friends.  {Hi Chad & Nikki!}  So anyway, the next morning I woke up only wearing my socks and I had to walk down the street to my friend's house and ask him if I happened to get naked in front of him while collecting my keys.  He also told me years later that he was sorry for peeing in my back yard that night, but he could have kept that secret because I don't even vaguely recollect it.  I didn't get naked in front of him and I will have the pleasure of seeing him tomorrow night at the 'real' reunion because we're still friends despite the fact that I can not hold my liquor.

That also reminds me, I am the fastest get ready-er ever.  I won a bet tonight and the first VV & GA was on Amy.  And doesn't VV & GA sound better than vanilla vodka and ginger ale.

Thankfully there were the sober {knocked up} among us who hopefully didn't get photos that turned out like  this. 

Who the eff put me in charge of an $800 camera?

And Amy... THIS is what happens when you drunk blog. I blame you.

I'm so going to regret this in the morning.  About as much as I regret wearing Skidz, pegged jeans, an Outback Red shirt and 4 pairs of colored socks the last time I saw half these people.  Go Rebels!

Um fall TV is back. I would be clever, but now I don't have to think.

If I were a better blogger, I would come up with a witty clever post to tantalize your Friday morning, but really, I spent my Thursday night watching tv.  I should preface this with the fact that I don't have cable or a dvr, so I have to watch things live, on the major networks, just as God intended.  So instead of a great post, I bring you a collection of random thoughts that came to me brilliantly incoherently while watching the goodness that is Thursday night tv. 

1. This post was supposed to be about pomegranates.
2. V is coming back.  What???  My sister and I were obsessed with this show as kids.  The green blood.  The alien baby!  I am thinking that they must have replayed it because I don't remember being seven watching it, but I do remember being scared shitless.  I thought it was junior high.  I just called her and she doesn't even remember it.  I am highly disappointed in her sisterly skills.  Sigh. 
3. I am pretty much hooked on Flash Forward after one episode.  Did you watch?
4. Did you know that Cleveland from Family Guy The Cleveland Show is a middle age white guy?  Really. 
5. The Office was so funny that it renewed my faith in humanity and created world peace.  It was that funny.  It was so funny that if I had incontinance issues, it would have made me pee a little.
6. Which brings me to... Do your Kegels!  That's my PSA for tonight.  If my little PSA didn't do it for you, perhaps the arrival of a 19 pound baby would?  I can't believe I am saying this, but makes my 10 pound 12 ounce baby seem like a peanut.  Oh yes, you read that right. 
7. Ok, my sister just called me back and she remembers some of it. She is still on notice, but is slightly forgiven because she remembered the jist.
8. I can't wait to see the Where the Wild Things Are Movie. But what if it's not as good as the book? 
9. I am concerned that I might have adult ADD.  Tonight's blog post pretty much solidifies it for me. 
10. Our 15 year reunion festivities start tomorrow.  Watch out class of '94... I'll be the drunk one laughing at with at with at my BFF and calling my mom husband for a ride home.  Oh, and I also don't have a clue what I'm going to wear.  Any ideas for me?  Friday night is a football game, then the bar.  Saturday is dinner.
11. I don't get pro football.  I can watch college football for evah and evah, but pro ball... pffft.  No thanks.  Go Bucks.  Seems like the paycheck takes the heart out of it for me.    
12. Aaaand my sister just texted me with a single word.  Jem.  She is now forgiven. 

Happy Friday to you!

Happy Friday! 6 Fun Blog Posts This Week

I have been discovering all kinds of fun new things this week.  I am constantly adding new things to my reader and meeting lots of really interesting fun new peeps.  Here are my highlights this week.  Some are old friends and some are new, but all are so wonderful, so marvelous.

1. This post over at 86'n It.  Inspiration.  Motivation.  And the cutest baby bump ever.  Bunny, you rock.  There are no words for your fabulousness. 
2. Speaking of babies, check out this unreal nursery over at Something Old, Something New.  I can't imagine how much her little boy is going to LOVE that space and all of the thoughtful handmade touches from his mama.
3. Brooklyn Limestone is one of my favorite reads.  She is so insanely creative and she posted this fun freebie for the cutest toe tag Halloween invites.  I feel a party coming on just so I can use them! 
4. Musings of a Housewife... I am uber jealous of this trip!  I mean, since we've been sweating our butts off to Jillian over at Shredding in September it would be great to meet her in person... or not.  You just KNOW she would yell at me for my wimpy push-ups.  Um.  Forget I mentioned anything. 
5. THIS over at One Pretty Thing, well because that's the DJS party featured & I've met lots of new readers this week thanks to Rachel and her fantastic blog!  Hiya!  Hope you stick around.
6. I laughed so incredibly hard at this post over at In the Trenches of Mommyhood.  Then I read it again and laughed some more.  Sarah, that is mortifying and hilarious all at once.   

Dude where's your face?

My husband loves me.  He loves me a lot.  He loves me enough to start laughing and say yes when I ask him if he minds if I do this post.  This is only hearing the concept and not having seen the damage it may do to his poor ego.  He knows full well that I would have posted it anyway, but it's nice to have his blessing.

He needed a new headshot for his LinkedIn profile.  And since, well, his jobby job the one supporting my shopping addiction habit hobby, I thought it best to make it a good one.  These, my dear friends, are the ones he should NOT use.  I can't state this enough Love, DO NOT under any circumstances use any of these.

LinkedIn? I think not.  So Wonderful, So Marvelous for your wife's personal amusement?  Oh yeah.  And Dude, where's your face?  Your shirt is there, your face inexplicably missing.  Um and what is up with the mug shot/two fingers on the chin pic???  Yep ladies, he's all mine for the next 60 years.