What a Christmas!

We have seen all the relatives, opened the presents, eaten ourselves into a satiny stupor and generally enjoyed the living crud out of Christmas.

I think the green sportscoat won the Horrific Gift of 2009 award. Last night, one of the Sons cocked his head and said, "Remember that weird little guy who always showed up to watch tae kwon do class, even though he had no kids in tae kwon do? The one we thought was maybe there just because he liked to watch young boys exercising? That looks just like the kind of thing he would wear." And he was right. Definitely has that "could be a pedophile" vibe to it.

NO idea what we're going to do with it. Can't imagine anyone would want it, except maybe for that guy who looks like a pedophile, but I think it is too large for him anyway.

(To be fair, guy was NOT a pedophile. Just a hard-core tkd fan, for reasons of his own. And a sweet person, if you took the time to talk to him.)

I have quite the stack of stuff I need to return or exchange, but that should be no big deal, especially since I am putting that whole jaunt off for a few days in favor of housecleaning (I basically have a new carpet made of candy wrappers, scotch tape and popcorn) and job applications.

Every few months I see a job which really stands out. Sure, I'm applying for a lot of other things which "may pan out, might be interesting, could be a good career move," but then there are the ones that just seem to sparkle. Found one of those today, in my inbox, and am feeling pretty good just about having applied for it. We'll see.

In the meantime, I need to go load more music onto my shiny new iPod Nano. I may be the last person on the planet to own one, and I do not care. It is hot.

Chad Spicknall Art Sale

Less than a month before Christmas, and everybody's having their post-Thanksgiving sales.

Even interesting people who create art.

I have several of Chad's paintings. Because, holy cow, I asked for them and he gave them to me. He is that kind of cool.

He is also a human being with bills and expenses and a studio to run, so believe it or not he does not ONLY give his stuff away. He sells it. People buy it. YOU could buy it. And for today and tomorrow he is offering a discount.

Ya oughtta go look. Because, honest, most of the stuff under the Christmas tree is going to be forgotten by Valentine's Day. But I still see something new, every time I look at Chad's seascapes hanging over the bedroom TV :) Isn't that what you want to give, something that seems new and interesting every time they see it?

That, and Post-It notes. Those things are great.

SOTD reprise: Red Sandals at Night

OK, I looked at the photo of today's shoes and just hate them.

Anyone want them? Worn twice, size 7. I think I have several other colors, worn once, by my mother. Honest, they are all yours...

So I changed into something better, to improve my mood

Shoe of the Day: A Personal Challenge

I was talking with a friend the other day and mentioned that I pretty much always wear flip-flops in the house. And then I looked down at my flip-flops and thought, "Those things are tired.

And so, in the interests of happy feet, I am going to wear a different pair of shoes every day and post a photo here. Not that you care. Just because if I have to post a photo, it will encourage me to think about it, instead of just sliding into the shoes next to the bed and leaving it at that.

Here are the Shoes of the Day for Saturday night:


Kinda beat, but they match the stripe in my shirt.

And Sunday:



Also kinda beat, but a comfy, low heel perfect for being barely functional on a lazy Father's Day.

Anticipation, Frustration, Obama-Nation

Anticipation: Two weddings, in eight days. e haven't been to a wedding in years (and that one was doomed at the altar, no doubt), and now we've got two. I am looking forward to bringing my camera to both, and also to contributing actual food to the wedding reception for one.

I have received my Food Assignment and I am on it like Paula Deen on a stick of butter. Oooh, yeah.

Frustration: I am NOT getting what I want, on pretty much all fronts, these days. The car is still in the shop, even though they were sure it would be ready yesterday. I keep sending out queries for work and get back, well, the sound of crickets. So far, this week, the dog has peed on my purse, three leather coats, and a carpet. AND YET I AM NOT SUPPOSED TO KILL HIM, or even want to. Hubby's band is defunct, and I have no idea what comes next on that one, so no dancing to slap bass for me anytime soon. I keep telling the Sons to handle their business and my reward is a general sinking feeling that I am becoming an ineffectual nag.

The Beach suggests I get an air horn and striped shirt, for handling all those episodes of Brotherly Love. I think she is a genius. Just gimme that whistle on a string.

About half of our CD collection has been bogarted by a Son, I guess. I keep opening cases and finding nothing. HOW DARE HE MISPLACE GEORGE THOROGOOD? That's just wrong. I may have to toss his room.

On the bright side, the poison ivy seems to be clearing up, Son #1 has been asking my advice on a very sweet project of his own devising, school is almost out and my nail polish is pristine, for once. (Honestly, a successful manicure does lift my mood. I am more girly than I thought, I guess.)

And the Obama-nation?
Well, I just am speechless. We are out of money? Shutting down businesses run by owners who did not contribute to Obama's election? Choosing a Supreme Court justice because she is a Latina? (Hey, maybe she's okay, but her job is to follow the Constitution. Don't need a uterus or a Compelling Personal Story for that.) I haven't been blogging on all this stuff because, well, I don't want to turn into a ranting nutbag, and Dhimmi Carter has that effect on me on a pretty consistent basis.

So, you know, I'll shut up now.

Happy Easter, Everybody!

Mom is hosting Easter, so all I am bringing are these rolls and some asparagus.



The Bunny brought the Sons way too much sugar. Waaaaay too much.



Hubby remarked yesterday that we need a new nonstick pan. He is also one of those people with no discernible sweet tooth. So, this is as close to an Easter basket as he was going to get this year.

Mad William's Oceanic Windows Have a Home

Very often, the total waste of time gang watches TV in my bedroom. I am a less than enthusiastic participant.

So, when I won half of Mad William's Oceanic Windows, I knew EXACTLY where I would put them.

THANK YOU, MAD WILLIAM! I love them.

Poky Redhead Says I'm Girly.

The basket of lip products, the constant manicures, the collection of heels. Perhaps she is right, and I have managed to save a vestige of femininity in this boy's dorm of a house.

Here, for your viewing pleasure, is my entire collection of nail care products. I am giving myself a quicky French manicure tonight, because I hate busted nails.

Sparkly pink fingernails

Someone asked me, yesterday, if I painted my nails pink "for your husband, or your boyfriend".

And so I told him the truth--I did it for me.

JUST LIKE HER

Growing up, just about the angriest thing my mother could say to me was that I was JUST LIKE HER--my grandmother. She always meant that I was exhibiting some of her mother-in-law's worst qualities.

I am starting to think that, for good or ill, I am a lot like Granma Bolz. And even though that includes her faults, I don't mind.

When she passed away, she left me one of her coctail rings. It was a little loose to be a pinky ring, and too tight to wear anywhere else, so I stuck it in a drawer. But this week I had it sized to fit my middle finger. I've been wearing it and it feels like it belongs on me. I think that if she were a 40-year-old woman, we'd get along famously and understand each other.

And probably also drive my mother nuts.

Wonder Twin Powers, ACTIVATE!

Girly Crap

Have I mentioned this before? Although I am a pretty low-maintenance person by nature, I do have my girly moments. When I do, you'll find me here.

Are you a member? It is fun for the thrifty/girly types, but you do have to be willing to, you know, mail stuff to people and accept their stuff in return. It's a great chance to try things out without spending a lot of money, or to get rid of things you Were Sure You Needed but now realize you can't stand.

Look for me, ok? I swap as "cebasham"

What A Woman Needs

Bling so blingy, it's a little embarrassing


A Chance to Cut Loose (that's me, on the left)


An Interest Other People Don't Care About (this would be my beloved ACME, although if you heard them you would love them, too)


A Healthy Habit


Someone Intimidating (In this case, brother-in-law's fiancee)


An Animal (this, by the way, is Jake)


A Vice


Serious, take-no-prisoners, FM shoes (yes, that IS a pair of 8-inch platforms, in the back)


The Big Closet

And, of course, girlfriends to keep her from totally losing it.

"They think of you as a MOM"

I straighten my hair. I wear foundation and mascara and lipstick. I have started wearing eyeliner. This is a big deal, for the Fresh Faced. But I like it.

At first, I only wore it to go out. Now, though, I often craft a fairly subdued smokey eye for everyday.

The Sons saw me putting on my eyeliner yesterday and the three youngest each asked, "Where are you going? What's the occasion? Why are you so fancy?"

I am just a hair's breadth away from the no-makeup look. Really, without the eyeliner it probably DOES look like I have nothing on my face. So I asked Son #1, aka Arbiter of Female Fashion (because he spends so much time checking out the ladies ;) if it looked bad.

"No, no. It looks GOOD. Keep it up! It's just...they think of you as a Mom, not as the kind of person who...does stuff."

Rhinestones vs Diamonds: A Tutorial

In my shopping online for Christmas presents, I found myself a cute little ring. It arrived the other day.

The Sons were shocked that I would buy myself a diamond ring, because those are EXPENSIVE. So I explained that this was only rhinestones, and cost me less than $12, including shipping.

Son #1 then opined that you can't tell the difference between diamonds and rhinestones, so only a moron would buy diamonds. This proves, in my mind, that he is a guy. Because you CAN tell the difference, and because only a man who doesn't love you would buy you rhinestones.

I explained this. "A woman can buy herself rhinestones. But an engagement ring needs to be a real diamond."

"Well, then, just buy rhinestones and tell her it's diamonds, and then use all the money you saved to buy yourself a car or a video game system or something."

Perhaps, when this comes up again, I will explain the charm of giving your future bride something she could hock, in extreme circumstances. Maybe that would appeal to his sense of practicality.