This was going to be a list of awesome things, but I got tangentially ranty

SURPRISE!

Ok, so very few people have acutally seen my "shocked face." This is not because I am somehow un-shockable. I'm quite shockable due to a delightful combination of not knowing very much about the world at large and my general trust of people I like which sometimes leads to some leg-pulling. I'm serious. One time, after an uncomfortable medical procedure, my husband was driving me home from the hospital and I said that I really wanted ice cream. Comfort food. Fat and sugar because it tastes good and if I was going to be hurting, I at least wanted my mouth to be happy. Darling husband did volunteer to drive to the 24 hr Baskin Robins/Dunkin Donuts* for me, and said, quite calmly, that it made sense that I was craving ice cream, because it had natural muscle relaxant properties. My eyes got wide. I thought this was like that "turkey makes you sleepy" thing or the reason that I would crave giant steaks once a month. "Reeeeally?!?" I asked, all full of hope. Then he laughed at me. Jerk (whom I love & adore).

But that's not what I was trying to get at. So, my "shocked face" is a running gag because frequently, my friends & I make very obvious statements in a pseudo-sarcastic way, at which point I try to put on my "shocked face" but inevitably fail, because... well, OF COURSE you want to do a punk-polka-whatever Ms. Gruss. Of  course you do. Most of the time I just leave my shocked face at home. It's too much to lug around with me everywhere.

I do have a point here somewhere, I swear.

So, this weekend, I was feeling a little down. On Friday, I attended a friend's baby shower and it was lovely... except (there's always an except, isn't there?)... some of her friends were... rude. I was going to try to find a nicer way of saying that, but there isn't one. They were just rude--condescending & dismissive of her desire to cloth diaper. They laughed in her face when she tried to answer the questions THEY asked about how the cloth diapers worked. It made my blood boil. They mean well. They're moms and have kids of their own, so know more about the reality of baby butts than we first-time mom-to-bes do, but... um... RUDE! So, I came home and thanked Twitter for being supportive and awesome of our desire to try cloth diapers. People in the real world are rude. I've had people laugh in my face too. It makes me get a little... honey badger.

I mean, I get it. I've never done this before. Cloth isn't normal anymore. It's a lot of work. I have no idea what I'm really getting in to. I get it. I really don't have much of an idea about any of this infant business, even after my classes at the hospital, nieces, nephews, friends, etc. I get it. I know nothing. BUT YOU KNOW WHAT? I have FRIENDS! Friends who are right now, this moment, sucessfully cloth diapering their kids. More than one! They're not crazy or uber-hippy or whatever else you think. They're awesome and frugal and environmentally sound and all that. Everything I "know" about cloth diapering has come from the mouths of moms who've done it. All the diapers I've purchased are recommendations from those moms. Because they KNOW! And maybe my baby will be different. Maybe the styles that worked on their tiny-people butts won't work on my tiny person's butt. Ok. Trial and error. Maybe my baby will inherit my uber-finicky skin and will get 14 kinds of rashy and need monster strength creams that aren't compatible with cloth diapers. Maybe I will suck at doing laundry and this whole experiment will fail. I admit that all of that is a possibility, but please, for the love of decency, could you give me a fighting chance here people? (Not YOU people. You people are awesome. It's the real life skeptics that are bringing me down, like Gruss would never do.**)

Ok, that is a completely different tangent that I didn't mean to have, but there it is. I'm trying stuff and might fail and if you "told me so" I will stab you with daggers from my eyes because SHUT UP! It could work. Just as much as it could NOT work, so... grr... anyway

ANYWAY! This weekend I was feeling down because I found out that of the 6 other ladies in my small group/Bible study/Nebraska girls only 1 was going to be able to make it to my shower. Now, let's be fair--they all had totally reasonable and pretty awesome reasons not to be there. A dad's 60th birthday party, a trip to London, England with boyfriend & boyfriend's mom!, a childbirth class at the hospital, a conference previously paid for... all good stuff! None of which I would ever, in a MEEELLLLION years ask them to ditch to come sit around with me and scrapbook while talking about pink baby things and eat finger foods and drink punch. I don't hate them for not being able to come. I just... was sad that these ladies, who are such a big part of my life, wouldn't be able to be there--kind of as a group, you know? Anyway, I was a little bummed. Not that I wouldn't have friends to celebrate with me at my shower (I do). Not that I wouldn't get more presents (I will). Just... that part of my life wasn't going to be represented at the party, and that was a little sad. Ok, so there's that.

THEN! On Sunday, my husband was all "Tomorrow, you should come to dinner with me & Doppleganger & her husband (dude... still weird to call him that. I mean, they've been married 2 months, I should adjust soon)" Wait, the parenthetical there is my thoughts, not his. He doesn't think like that. Yeah. I didn't want to go. Bible study was that night, at our house, so I wanted to be there to... stare at the living room before people arrived. I don't know. I just wasn't excited about going out. I didn't really want tacos (which should have been 17 kinds of red flags that there was something SERIOUSLY wrong with me, because when do I ever NOT want tacos?!?), I like our friends a lot, but didn't want to go out. Then Monday came, and I worked and I complained to my husband about still being sad about things that I felt I had no business being sad about (see above paragraph) and kept asking "Do I really need to come to dinner? Can't I just stay home and do dishes instead?" Seriously--I don't know why my husband didn't have a thermometer & a shrink at my side instantly, because I am not the kind of woman who ever says things like that. (Spoiler alert--the very next day I had some random fever crap that was gone as fast as it came. Bizzare.) He just kept repeating that yes, I should be there, it was important, trust him! I thought Doppleganger had NEWS to share, though I couldn't imagine what it would be. They're not planning on hopping on this having-a-baby train any time soon. I'd already seen her new car. In fact, I just saw her on Sunday, so... what's the big deal. I grudgingly went to dinner, tried to put on my best face, despite being tired, not hungry, and generally feeling icky. Thankfully, these are friends who like me even when I'm tired and icky, so I didn't have to try too hard. It was a nice dinner. We sang "soft kitty." Then I left. No NEWS was revealed. I felt cheated and tricked and crankier. I told my husband so in a snippy text on my way home.

I rushed home to get there before people arrived for bible study. Thankfully, because everyone but me lives about 20 miles south, much closer to downtown, in an older and far-too-hip-for-me neighborhood, they're generally late, which was awesome for me on this day. Except when I got home and saw a strange car in front of my house! OH GREAT! Jennifer, our newest member, has probably been waiting outside my house for... like... MINUTES and doesn't know the garage code to let herself in and I'm a horrible hostess and the crank increases.

So, I walk inside with a mouth full of appologies, only, I see this instead:

Yeah, that's right! My husband lured me out of the house so that my bible study ladies could throw me a surprise baby shower since they were all going to be out of town/otherwise busy on the actual day. And my husband didn't put them up to it! Aparently they planned it all when I wasn't around. Because they are sneaky. And my husband kept the secret--which is a pretty big deal for him. I usually get like 4 or 5 presents from him at every gift-giving holiday because he can't wait to give them to me on the day.

Yes. I felt like a giant dork for being all mopey and was totally surprised and shocked. Not that they like me and wanted to celebrate me, but that they would go to all the trouble of putting on a whole shower (with games! and punch! and snacks! and cake balls!) on a Monday night. It was awesome.

Also, I participated in this awesome Scarf-swap thingy that Raven over at Just Expressive organized. The scarf I got from -R- is wonderful! It's the perfect color to go with so many of my peacock-themed things, and! I got bonus matching earrings with it! Score! (Also, I'm wearing jiggaflern in  my hair that I stole of my peacock-themed wreath that I still haven't taken down because I realized it wasn't really all that Christmas-y, so now it hangs in the bedroom because I like it. And I stole a little cluster of appropriately colored stuff & stuck it on my head. Ta-da!)

In summary--things that are awesome: My Twitter friends (more on this later, because I actually do have lots to say about them) and my real life friends. Basically, my friends in general. I'm pretty much the luckiest girl in the world.

*Seriously the best business plan ever invented! 24 hour access to awesome ice cream (Jamoca Almond Fudge please!) and donuts!

**You know that song by ELO? The "Don't bring me dooooooown, Bruce!" song? Well, it's not actually Bruce. It's Gruss. The song is about my friend The Gruss. And when you hear the song on the radio, you must immediately start singing along and call her. No matter where you are in the song when she/her voicemail picks up, you must not stop singing to say any sort of greeting. She's a smart cookie. She'll catch on. She knows the drill. It happens all the time. So... anyway, Gruss won't ever let you down. That's a fact.

The truth in art

Ok, ok, ok.
Here it is:

Me, in some pants that allow me to fake a unified belly at 30 weeks:

Me, in reality, both bellies represented, also my dirty mirror and skeptical face (also at 30 weeks):

So there you have it, Internets. Me, with internal baby. If I ever get around to doing fancy semi-professional pictures, I'll be sure to show those off too.

Almost 30

Weeks, not years. I'm 31 years, for those keeping track at home.

No, almost 30 weeks (tomorrow). Erica at All Dressed Up suggested that I DRAW a picture of myself, since I wasn't really happy with any of the photos I'd taken. She suggested this almost 2 weeks ago, and I've been MEANING to do it... but kept getting distracted by napping.

So, here you go. A dramatic recreation of me and the bellies. Done to scale, as you can tell by the baby giraffe I'm next to. For reference.



Also pictured, a dramatic recreation of my butt. Giraffe picture from Zooborns



Still

"Still" is sort of my word of the moment.

Not that I'm good at BEING still, especially with all the work that needs I want to get done in the next 11 weeks, but I find myself saying it frequently.

I'm still pregnant. I'm mostly joking when I say that, but I know enough premie babies that I really am thankful. The "produce of the week" e-mail tells me that this baby is the size of a butternut squash, which is much better than the PUMPKIN pictured over there to the right. Every ache, pain, symptom, complaint, scare, bother, or worry that I've had for the past 6.5 months can all be modified with "mild" and that is something for which I am incredibly grateful. Not that I want to brag that I'm such a pro at being pregnant. I'm not. I'm whiny and nervous and drive my patient, sweet, thoughtful husband right round the bend because there's pretty much nothing to be whiny and nervous about. Except, you know, birth and then caring for an infant. I don't know how to do those things. I took a class. I think I'm a little more nervous now, because I have a better idea of just how much I don't know.

I'm still thinking about natural childbirth. I hesitate to say that on the internet, because everyone has OPINIONS and I thought I was always a "drugs now, yes please!" kind of girl. This isn't something I ever THOUGHT I'd be considering, and yet... here I am. I'm not scared of unnecessary medical intervention. I'm doing this whole thing in a hospital, with a doctor I trust not to cut me in anyway unless it really is necessary, and who is sympathetic, understanding, and willing to listen to me--which might be a little crazy, because I feel like I know NOTHING, but I hope that I'll know what I want when I get there. I'm not afraid of epidurals (except the thought of a needle in my spine, but from what I hear, since you can't see it, it's not that big a deal) or pain medication. I just don't know how I'm going to react and respond to labor. I've never done it before. I'm not really sure what my pain-tolerance is like.  I'm taking a Lamaze class, which really surprises me, because I kinda mocked the whole breathing thing for a long time. I mean, my dad thinks that giving birth without pain medication (initially typed "paid" which, while also true and possibly a Freudian slip, isn't what I meant) is akin to going back to the dark ages... but he's a pharmacist, so drugs are sort of his thing. He also had to watch my mom give birth to me without any pain medication, and it made a lasting impression on him. Of course, it made a lasting impression on her, too, and she's all for doing without the drugs if you can. IF YOU CAN. No stigma, shame, guilt, or other bad feelings if you can't, or don't want to. She is (awesome? yes!) totally supportive either way. So, since I know that birth isn't something you can plan (unless you're MBFJC and having a scheduled c-section), I have... preferences. #1-I'd like a live, external baby at the end of it. #2- I can change my mind at any time, except once it's too late to get the drugs in me and then I just have to suck it up and have the baby. That's what I've got. I won't feel bad if I decide to get drugs in any form (well, the LEGAL kind, at the hospital, from my doctor). I won't feel smug if I do this without, because... dude, there is no judging birth. Every BODY is different & you gotta do what is best for you and so do I.
I still have two bellies. I always sort of assumed that pregnancy would be the time when my bellies would unite.* So there's that assumption, which makes an ass out of you and mption, but it's there. What I didn't realize was that the ACTUAL assumption I had was that through the miracle of life going on in my innards, I would magically start to look like women in the advertisements. (I'll give you time to laugh, because, yes, it's laughable). Because all pregnant woman look the same! At least, all the pregnant women I'd ever known all looked the same. They looked like themselves, with this big, round belly that just sort of showed up. Well, I've got "big"** but not really "round." It's causing me to shy away from things I always thought I would want--like a maternity photo shoot. While I do want some record that this kid was actually inside me***, I can't really look at the examples out there of "maternity photos" and picture myself in them. First of all, there will be no naked belly. Nope. Not happening. Not this belly... these bellies, whatever. Secondly, if there's no big round belly to hold, then the pictures just don't seem right. I'm still trying to remind myself to focus on the fact that everything is going REALLY WELL. I'm healthy. The baby is healthy. Everything is WONDERFUL.

I'm still cleaning out every closet, drawer and cabinet in the house, throwing away, giving away, and getting rid of anything we don't actually use RIGHT NOW (except the gifted baby stuff, of course). This is cathartic and wonderful, but being stuck in the in-between part is sometimes disheartening. Things look worse when I'm only halfway done than they did before I started, so I have to keep reminding myself that we really are making progress. The fact that I have a dedicated linen closet is proof! All my table linens are stored in the hutch that goes with our dining room table, along with our wedding china. That's such a grown-up feeling accomplishment. My next task is to get my jewelry organized. The makeup purge/organization was so successful that I feel I can tackle the endless piles of earrings that may or may not have mates.

I guess the real point is that there isn't a whole lot of new stuff going on. New year and all... same old us.

*There's still time for that to happen. Now that I'm in the "growing an inch & a pound per week" phase, that might be the next big development, but so far the Union of my Fat Belly remains high & lofty, while the Confederate States of my Fat Belly remain right where they've always been, and the Mason-Dixon line of my belly button is as deep and cavernous as ever. Will it pop out and form a belly-truce? Only time will tell.
**I understand that what I think of as big now is laughable when compared to the end result, but it is still the biggest I've ever been, so we'll go with that for now
***I have several photos taken with my cellphone, so I'm not bereft of proof, but... to me, they just look like fat pictures, not pregnant pictures. My eyes are crazy and my brain isn't too sane either

Christmas Dinner... sort of

Remember way back when I said I was going to cook for my family? Specifically my mom & brother, two of my favorite cooks in existance? Well I did. It didn't suck. We didn't call out for pizza or sushi. The directions were a bit... vague at parts, so there was some improvising. It wasn't as gloriously delicious as I remember it being, but that might be a trick of memory or due to my own improvisation. Either way, it was a presentable and pleasant meal, so I'm going to count that as a win.

Should you decide you would like to attempt this vague recipe, I will tell you what I did, and show you pictures I took of the process. That's how this works, right? Alright then, here goes! Christmas Dinner for my immediate family was "Beef with scallion and Mushroom Sauce." Sounds fancy, right? I served it on Dec 30th, but that's when we were celebrating, so it counts as Christmas dinner. Because I said so.

 

The recipe from some ex-boyfriend. I really only have 2, so yes I know which one it was, I'm just not going to tell YOU. Because it doesn't matter.



The Ingredients:

1/4 lb butter

1 lb mushrooms (fresh, wiped clean & cut in half)*

1 cup chopped scallions

2 teaspoons minced garlic

2 TBSP tomato paste

1/2 teaspoon thyme, crumbled

2 bay leaves

1 1/2 cups beef broth

1/4 cup Burgandy (wine)

1 cup tomato puree

salt to taste

1/2 teaspoon freshly ground pepper

1 1/2-2 lbs cooked beef, in bite-sized pieces

Melt butter in large saucepan. Add mushrooms and cook, stirring often until soft.

I cheated a little bit with the mushrooms. I bought them pre-cut and just washed them and dumped them in the pan. I also used about 2 lbs because while the recipe says it feeds 6, and I was only having 6 people to feed... I'm always doubtful that there will be enough food, so I added more.

2 cups-ish of scallions--green onions, whatever. It was most of 2 bunches and what I didn't put in the pot, I tossed on the salad, so that was a win-win.


I didn't have any true Burgundy, so I used this lovely Cab Sav that my folks gave me.



Add the scallions, garlic, tomato paste, thyme, bay leaves, broth, wine, tomato puree, salt and pepper. I find it difficult to salt-to-taste mid-cooking, so I just put a little bit of salt (equal to the amount of pepper) and figured I could always add more later, or you know, put some on the table for other folks to salt it up as necessary.  Mix well, turn heat to low and simmer for an hour. (I did increase the amount of spices since I was increasing the amount of veggies & meat, but I don't have acutal meausurements for you because I didn't measure.)

While that's simmering, you could cook that beef that you're supposed to have cooked and in bite-sized pieces. I took some serloin, chopped it up, browned it a bit in this pan, then poured some more wine in and let it simmer a bit too. There was a lot of simmering going on.

Final step--Stir in the beef and cook until just hot through. While that was doing THAT, I boiled up some egg noodles to serve this beef stuff on, tossed the salad together, set the table (complete with FANCY bottles of salad dressing straight from the fridge!) and steamed some green beans.

So, total prep time before simmering: about 20 mins. If you do all the other dinner prep stuff while it's simmering for that hour, you can be ready to serve pretty quickly after that. I mean, if you're cooking the meat right then, it's already hot, so you're just really letting things sort of get friendly with one another, and that can take as much or as little time as you want it to.


TA-da!



* So some parts of the recipe, like this, are quite specific. Others (beef, cooked) are... less specific

One-Woman Cosmetics Counter

So I mentioned the ridiculous amount of makeup that I own in my last post and talked about the "I can do anything" completeness of the stuff I carry in my purse, and it just so happens that I locked myself out of my car the other day, or at least I thought I did... well I DID, but I didn't lock my keys in my car. I dropped my keys just outside my car when I got out, and by the time I needed them again, it was dark and I couldn't find them in my purse and didn't see them next to my car, so I called J to come let me into my car, and in the meantime decided to clean out my purse, which led to the realization that I have too much makeup in my purse. And most of it fits in that little pink bag!

Here's everything, all laid out by my keyboard. This is when I started to suspect that there was a problem and maybe I should think about streamlining my cosmetics!

1. Clinique eyeshadow trio in colors of awesome. Seriously, this little thing is probably all I need for 75% of my days. It has highlight and shadow colors that are perfect for my skin and look totally natural on me. These are the rosy colors that I am.
2. Physicians Formula Healthy Wear SPF 50 Powder Foundation-- Color Translucent Light (pasty white girl who burns at the mention of sun)
3. Revlon Colorstay 12 Hour Eyeshadow--Color Berry Bloom. This doesn't need to live in my purse, but it's been there for a while and I can't be bothered to move it. I love this 12 Hr stuff. Love it. I've had 3 different sets of these in 3 different color sets and I've loved them all.
4. Philosophy Hope Oil Free SPF 30 Daily Moisturizer for normal-to-oily skin. Man, do I love this stuff. I try really hard to have sunscreen on every day because I've seen where my skin is going. I take after my grandma and have pretty classic Worley skin, which bruises, breaks, tears and as it gets older gets thinner and more delicate. It does not remain firm and smooth, so minimizing sun damage is pretty much my number one beauty goal. If I had a beauty goal it would be to look my age, not any other age.
5. Make Up Forever Full Coverage Extreme Camouflage Cream--Color 4 This stuff is the jam too! Thankfully I don't have to use it much except for under my eyes and it blends really well, stays put, and lasts as long as I need it to. Considering the wear & tear I put on my face during the spring (Texas, outside for 12+ hrs a day), I love anything that can keep up with me.
6. L'oreal Eyeshadow Quad--Color Hopeful Wishes. This doesn't need to live in my purse either, but again--it got put there one time and I've never taken the time to take it out. Fun colors. The darkest one looks grey, but people tell me it's actually dark green.
7.Sonia Kashuk mini brush set from Target. 4 brushes to do... whatever needs to be done with whatever makeup I've got
8. Urban Decay Brow Box--Color Honey Pot Another thing that I never knew I needed until I had it. I frequently need to augment my pale eyebrows so that I look like I have an expression, and this little thingy is the best! It has a tiny brush & tweezers inside, 2 colors of powder (which is so soft and velvety, I use it as eyeshadow on the regular) and underneath that, a secret compartment for clear wax, so if I'm serious about it, I can set my eyebrows in place. I find powder so much easier to work with than a pencil and looks more natural on me when I'm done.
9. Sugar Tinted Lip Treatment, SPF 15--Color Rose. Got it as part of a set that I picked up with my "you spend lots of money here, have some free stuff" points at Sephora. I like that for having sunscreen in it, it neither tastes nor smells like sunscreen. It's kind of citrusy and the color is super sheer and almost the same color as me, so it's really just fancy chapstick for me. Probably wouldn't have bought it on my own, but as a freebie, I like it.
10. Urban Decay eyeliners in Perversion (blackest black) and Corrupt (brown with a little bit of silvery sparkle). Urban Decay is one brand that will always suck me in because they have beautiful, vibrant colors with awesome names. As an added bonus, I really like the stuff once I get it on my face. These eyeliners are part of the 15th anniversary limited edition set of eyeliners that I got as a prize that I really enjoy and will probably last me for the rest of time.
11. Lip liner in a universally me shade of pink.
12. Benefit High Brow.
13. Kat Von D Tattoo Eraser. I don't use it for erasing tattoos. I use it as a highlighting eyeliner. It's a perfect shade of pale pink for doing such things. Sort of like the High Brow. Only different. And smaller, thus easier to get into small spaces. Ok, so I really don't need both of these things, but I can't figure out which I love more to get rid of one, so I keep both.
14. Revlon Colorstay 12 Hour lipstick--Color Hooker red. (Actually On going flame, but I always call it hooker red, because that's the color my friends & I use to describe a narrow range of reds) If I don't wear the top coat (spoiler: I forget to wear it 95% of the time) it dries my lips out and makes them peely. I still wear it because it lasts through dinner, and with this, the pale pink eyeshadow, mascara and the Perversion eyeliner I can be totally glammed up for whatever in 5 minutes from the contents of my purse. It's pretty awesome.
15. Revlon Double Twist Mascara--waterproof of course. I understand that some people want non-waterproof mascara, I just don't know why. I have yet to find the perfect mascara, but I like this stuff. The brush is big and friendly. It's not too goopy and I don't look like I have spider legs for lashes when I'm done. Win!
16.Covergirl lipstick... I don't know which kind, but #335, Embrace. It's a purply-pink with that blue shimmer. Totally impractical for most days. I bought it for wearing with my overpoweringly pink Faire costume, but it lives in my purse now due to a combination of laziness and for the occasional bad day pick-me-up. It's hard to not feel awesome when wearing rad lipstick. At least, it is for me.
17. Victoria's Secret Beauty Rush lipgloss--Color Cupquake. Ok, it's really pink and really sparkly and it tastes good. It's a very strong gloss though! It broke a hair once. Like, some stray hair blew across my lips when I was wearing it (my #1 complaint against lipgloss by the way) and when I tried to pull the hair off, it BROKE. I still like it. See above: pink, sparkly, tastes good.
18. Kat Von D Saint/Sinner roller ball perfume duo. Because it never hurts to have a quick stink-pretty stashed in your purse, right?
19. Thus begins my Burt's Bees problem. This is the original formula, and the one I use the most frequently. I love it. I have 4 tubes of just this kind stashed in various locations about my house and person.
20. Medicated kind, with eucalyptus, for when I get a fever blister, or have a cold.
21. Ultra Conditioning, with kokum butter... whatever that is. This is the only one that rivals my love of the original. It's smooth and almost gloss-like.
22. With mango butter. Tasty.
23. With Passion Fruit and SPF 8. I guess since I have the Sugar lip stuff that's got SPF, I could get rid of this one.
24.And my MAC/Disney Villain love! This is Lipglass in Hot House, featuring the Evil Queen from Snow White. It's pink & sparkly. Try not to be too surprised.
25. Evil Queen again, with a pretty sheer brown lipstick in color Sinister
26. Cruella de Vil this time. Lipglass Wicked Ways. It should be bold red, but tends to lean more towards pink on my face
27. My favoritest of this line. Lipstick in Heartless. It's the classic red that everyone needs, but this is the one that works with my skin. I love it. It goes on smoothly and lasts pretty well through a meal, so I will cry when it is gone.
28. Maleficent! My favorite Disney Villain! This Lipglass is called Wrong Spell. It's a dark brown that I never thought I would wear, and yet, I wear it the most of the three because while it is quite dramatic when I first put it on, it fades to a very nice neutrally brown after just a few minutes.
29. Then there's Violetta, my Maleficent lipstick. It's purple. Really. But strangely, not in a scary way. I thought I wouldn't like it on me, but it's a pretty purple pink on my face... kind of orchid like.

Now, here's the surprising (at least to me) part: my purse isn't all that big. It's not small by any means since I like to have a book that I can comfortably stuff a paperback into at any given moment, but it's not huge. Here it is, pictured next to my reusable coffee cup for scale reference. For all it's not-super-bigness, it is quite heavy. Imagine what a weight off my shoulders it would be if I could just give up all that makeup! Not gonna happen...

The many colors of kryptonite

So, 2012 is the year of babies. I've said before that I know a 4 brazillion* women who are having babies and eventually, I'm gonna put together a list so I can keep track of all this stuff.

That being said, part of our plan for 2012 is to attempt to get ready for said baby of ours before she arrives. This involves a lot long, hard talks with our stuff. We have many closets in this house (though not enough, because when can you ever have enough closets?) and most of them are full of stuff that's just taking up space. I think this is fairly common in most households around these parts. We don't need the vast majority of the stuff that's hanging out in those boxes, but it's hard to get rid of. Some of it is sentimental attachment, but most of it is a product of our upbringing.

"Don't get rid of that! We might need it later! Somebody could use that! It's still good!"

This is how we wind up with 42 tablets of paper that we never touch. 14 clip boards. 27 3-ring binders. Cardstock. Photo paper. Calligraphy pens. 9 drag-queens worth of make-up!

Cleaning out office supplies is a fairly unemotional task. Sure, there's the occasional stack of letters or cards that brings a smile as I look over them again, but unless it's love letters from my husband, they get put in the recycle stack. We managed to combine 3 closets into 1 this weekend by just getting rid of stuff. Some stuff goes to Goodwill, because it's still good and somebody could use that, but most of it went to be recycled or thrown away. It felt amazing! There is still one more closet left to tackle, and of course the garage, but we're making lots of progress! The sunshine room looks less like a place that potential hoarders go to practice piling stuff and more like a room that might someday soon be converted into a nursery! I already have 3 drawers full of tiny clothes!

Cleaning out my bathroom was much harder. I have an irrational attachment to my make-up and skin care. Free samples of things I haven't gotten around to trying in the years they've been sitting around? I don't need those! NO ONE needs those. They're long past their expiration date and any benefits they may have imparted are long gone. I was able to throw those away without issue... well, a little guilt for the amount of crap that I let get into my house that just winds up in the trash.

Then it came time to purge the actual make-up. The old foundation didn't pose a problem. Some of the old lipsticks and lipliners went into the trash without a twinge. Then things got hard. I don't really need all the different colors of lipstick that I own. I hardly ever wear the 6 shades I carry in my purse--3 lipstick, 3 gloss... plus chapstick, and maybe a free sample of some Sugar lip stuff I got at Sephora. You know what, my purse is it's own cosmetics counter these days. I can do pretty much everything from my one little make-up bag. Almost any look from natural to dramatic for a variety of skin tones... unless you need to use powder or concealer, and then it would be helpful if you were as pasty-pink as I am.

The point is, I don't wear makeup often enough to justify the obscene amounts of makeup I own. I need to get back down to the stuff I do wear and let the rest go to a home where it will be better loved! It took a lot of convincing and re-trying of different colors, but I managed to eliminate quite a bit. It's easier to convince yourself to give up YET ANOTHER purple eyeshadow when you know that you've already got 5 different shades of purple to choose from the next time you need purple eyeshadow, and knowing that "next time" could be months away.

There's a pile of things that weren't so old and icky as to be tossed as soon as they were discovered (yes, I had an equally large pile of THAT). It was VERY difficult, because I would look at every color and think "but I don't HAVE that color" and be tempted to keep it. Because I want all the colors--that's my kryptonite. I finally convinced myself that I didn't need 50 different shades of neutral eyeshadow. 5 is more than enough, since I don't go for neutral makeup much anyway. If I want to look neutral, I'll slap on some powder, some mascara and a lip-ish colored gloss and call it good. I don't have the skill or patience to apply 15 colors of eyeshadow, liner, foundation, concealer, blush and mascara only to have the overall effect look like I'm not wearing makeup. I can handle 2-3 products to make me look awake, refreshed and generally un-grump-like.

My bathroom is now much less cluttered. I put up some new stuff on magnets to reduce the amount of counter space I take up on my side of the sink. If it's not on the board, it lives in one small Caboodle. That caboodle is mostly eyeliner and lipstick. I did get rid of a lot of eyeliner, but still have about 25 different colors... but they don't take up too much space, so that's ok.

There's another clothing swap happening near the end of the month, so I have plenty of motivation to go through my closet again and get rid of things. It will be a little harder since things don't fit the same way right now as they might otherwise, and I have NO IDEA what things will fit like after I have an external baby, so... I guess I'll purge things that I always meant to wear but never did--you know, the stuff that's not really quite my style but I somehow convinced myself would get worn? That should make a dent!

*Actually 4 brazillion, not an exaggeration, since a brazillion is 5. Yep--20 women, having a total of 21 babies. I can't wait! 

2011--I did stuff.

• January: J had a birthday. I also wrote this letter to 2011. I have to say that for the most part, things went pretty well. We had weddings and babies (many announced, one arrived yesterday!). We also had funerals, fever blisters, and more cancer. So... mixed bag I guess. I did get a new fence, but no more animals.
• February: Faire got started... well, the workshop process at least. I taught people how to talk to strangers in an engaging and memorable way. I wore a lot of layers for the various levels of weather that Texas likes to throw at us at the tail-end of winter.
• March: My pants went missing. Not really. My careful husband had just PUT THEM AWAY, so of course I couldn't find them. It was like foreshadowing for all the pants-griping I would be doing this year. An omen of things to come--no pants to be had!!*
• April: I was attacked by MORE SPIDERS. This still haunts me. I sang with QAL and wore blinding amounts of pink. I talked to strangers in an engaging and (hopefully) memorable way.
• May: I did all the same things as the month before, only with less arachnid involvement. Honestly, I think I prefer it this way, thank you very much. Spiders, please kindly take note that we both are better off far, far away from each other.
• June: I reunited with my couch. Somewhere that spring, during recovery from some version of crud, I got hooked on Doctor Who, so I spent quite a bit of time working on my ass-groove and catching up on that.
• July: The great babysplosion of 2012! Well, things got started before July, but July was the month when I found out that 3 close friends were pregnant. And then, me too! I also hosted a clothing swap party and so did a lot of closet-purging and talking about clothes.
• August: My blog turned 1! I was very proud of myself for keeping this up that far. A small achievement to be sure, but still one I was excited about.
• September: J & I celebrated being married for 5 years. We made it this far, which is impressive to me, because it seems very long, and also completely unimpressive next to the marriages that surround us--my grandparents: 70 yrs on one side, 65 on the other. Both of our parents? 42 years.
• October: I went to San Francisco to see my family & have a mini-vacation with my husband. I turned 31. My brother became a sommolier. I went Austin and met a bunch of ladies whose lives I read about on the Internet! I got dressed up like a witch and sang songs at a haunted-house theme park with my friends! It was a fabulous month. Maybe the best of the year.
• November: I posted every day for 30 days. You found out way more about me than you ever needed to know.
• December: I made crafts. I went to parties. I sang carols in Victorian costuming. I published my 200th post with no fan-fare because I just couldn't be bothered. I figure 500 is the next milestone that I might make a fuss over. Don't quote me on this, because I might change my mind AT ANY TIME

*I actually found a pair of maternity pants, on the internet, that--according to the size chart provided--should fit around my expanding hips and also touch my feet and cost less than $70. This is a minor miracle. I have been searching for this very thing since... well, I think since the day I found out that I would NEED maternity pants. I have looked at every possible place for pants, but the intersection of tall and wide and pregnant didn't seem to exist. Then it did, but at prices that made my budget run away screaming. Then... a Christmas miracle. JC Penny! Bless them! They added the magical ingredient! Not all-the-way plus-sized-tall pants, but just my size. Falling in the overlap between what's considered "regular" sizes and "plus" sizes isn't a fun place to be. You get funny looks no matter where you shop. Still, I'd found some places that had pants I could wear. Enter the fetus and I was S. O. L. Tall maternity pants? Sure! No problem! The two maternity stores nearest me both have tall sizes. So long as you're just extra large. And I was. Am. Extra Large. I live in the land of the XL. But somehow a maternity XL is a size smaller than my normal Target XL. 16/18 at Target is NOT THE SAME as 16/18 at Destination Maternity, or JC Penny. Which, I'm not surprised, because sizes aren't exactly standardized across the whole retail world. So I shouldn't have been surprised, but I was disappointed to find that maternity clothes run smaller than my regular clothes. Yeah, where's the logic in that?! Let's make the ladies putting on weight for TOTALLY REASONABLE REASONS feel even fatter by making the clothes they need to wear smaller. WTF and STFU to you stores! Anyway, because of that little gem of marketing, the pants that fit my rear end were 1X. Well. You can get plus sized maternity pants too! So long as your inseam is only 32". *sigh* The 1X 34" inseam pants... they were not to be had at reasonable prices. And then... like MAGIC... they were! This is the longest footnote ever, and really could be a separate post, because you all know how much I love to bitch about pants. PANTS!!! So, the whole point here is that after the Christmas miracle of JC Penny suddenly deciding to carry pants for me, ON SALE no less, I bought a pair in every color. They didn't have any in stores to try on, so this could still be a bust, but I'm trying to be hopeful here. Hope--it springs eternal for pants.

**UPDATE**

THEY FIT!! I have pants!! And there was much rejoicing! *yay*

Shelved

I'm having an argument with my bookshelves.
Or with my books. I'm honestly not sure which.

We have some books, and pretty much no organizational system whatsoever.

A while back, I decided to move all of our series of books to one bookshelf. This thing is 6' tall and 3' wide (much like myself) and it is FULL of books that have more than one part. One and a half shelves are all Wheel of Time, and there's Tolkien, The Spiderwick Chronicles, The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo stuff, and on and on. In fact, it is so full that the Harry Potter series is ON TOP of the bookshelf, with our cute little Harry & Hermione bookends and everything by Piers Anthony is on another bookshelf all together, even though there are 2 different series by him over there. He's over on another bookshelf of the same size that I've decided is for "books by the same author, though not necessarily in any kind of serial format."  By that logic, I should move the 2 Dean Koontz series off the series bookshelf and move them over there, but Dean already has 2 whole shelves because I'm a sucker for his work and I can't see making it 3 shelves.

But there you have sort of the extent of my organization. Books in series are segregated (mostly) and if we have more than one book by a particular author, those go on a separate bookshelf as well. I sort of have some... thematic shelves. The "all things Ireland/Norse mythology" shelf and the "bibles and stuff about God & Jesus, including Christian fiction" shelves. There's sort of a "fantasy/sci-fi" shelf, but all J's Star Trek books are on another shelf, next to the books we kept from classes, because what I really need just now is a handbook on screenwriting and broadcast voice techniques.

Which leaves many shelves full of just... books. In no order. Not grouped by subject or genre because I can't figure out where to put a book about a woman who goes to the Amazon to find a fellow researcher and winds up sleeping with her presumed-dead co-worker, even though she spent the first half of the book telling us that she would never, ever do that because she wasn't that kind of woman. Next to the one about a woman who does nature-research-type stuff and I think there was a romance involved, and does she get pregnant? I can't remember. Those books are just sort of... out there.

I suppose I could do like stores and libraries do (not with the Dewey Decimal system or anything, unless Tara wants to come do it as a project for her grad school), but put things in alphabetical order by author.

That smacks of effort.

If you want to borrow a book that's not by an author that we have lots of books by, or part of a series, you're just going to have to look at a lot of shelves.

Skills I don't have

So, I'm not a choreographer. I'm not a dancer either. I can do some dance moves, though none with anything close to skill or proficiency. I know some of the lingo, but mostly I describe things with made-up adjectives when talking to my dancer friends. "You know the part where your back goes all archy and she does that kick with her leg all bendy and then you both sort of squiggle around until you're in matching hoopdydoodles?"

Anyway, despite these deficiencies, I still hear songs that I want people to dance to. Not just usta-usta on the dance floor, but real choreographed "pieces." I get visions of a particular shakey shoulder movement or an arching back, a kick, a roll, you know, something that my brains say "this sound should make a dancer's body do this." But one movement does not a full piece make. And I don't know enough moves to put together a whole piece. So I just sit in my car, listening to the songs that make me smile envisioning my dancer friends doing little bits here and there. Any real choreographers out there: I've got the first 15 seconds of Muse's Supermassive Black Hole down pat. Sort of. And some vague concepts for the chorus. In case you're interested.

I like to cook. No, not really. I like to eat. I like to make stuff. If I had a permanent sous chef, I think I'd like cooking a lot more. Oh, and a dishwasher. I mean, we have a dishwasher (the machine), but I'd like a person to do the loading & unloading of said machine. Right, so, I make stuff. I follow recipes pretty well. I do have my mother's tendency to substitute what I've got laying around for what the recipe calls for sometimes. I cooked my first turkey this year, and it went pretty well, if not perfectly. I learned some stuff--like not to let a turkey sit in 3" of it's own delicious juices, because it will fall apart, spraying the kitchen in stuffing in a very unappetizing looking mess when you try to transfer it to a platter. The cooking thing is one that I feel really behind the ball on. So many of my friends are amazing cooks--inventive and skilled cooks. They can tell if meat is done without thermometers or cutting it open. I do not have this skill. I barely understand the difference between baking soda and powder.

My lack of kitchen proficiency certainly hasn't stopped me from trying new and exciting recipes. In fact, I have a recipe that's been sitting on my fridge (with a magnet) for... oh, I don't know... a year or so? It's a recipe that an old boyfriend made for me on Valentine's Day and it is, to date, the best thing I remember about him--he cooked this fabulous meal. The rest of the night was a disaster, but this dinner was AWESOME. So, I thought I would make it. My family is coming over for belated Christmas-time celebrations tomorrow. My office is closed. Seems like the perfect time to cook a completely untested recipe for the best cook I know, right? I mean, what's the worst that could happen? I fail, the dish sucks, I'm embarrassed, my family all laughs (with me, not at me--they're cool like that), and we get take-out. This is an outcome I'm mostly comfortable with. Of course, I'd love for things to go really well and not NEED take-out, but I have a safety net in place. Lite Wok totally delivers, and they have sushi, so 33% of my guests will be super excited about that. The rest of us can have other delicious food that is cooked--in a wok, presumably.

Oh, this recipe! I don't know what it's called. It's beef with mushrooms in a burgandy wine sauce. So I Googled it, to see what I was getting myself into (since my refridgerator is far from me, and I'm impatient). Google now has me TERRIFIED because it keeps throwing french recipes at me that involve stuff I've never heard of, like beef demi glace, which led me down a wikipedia rabbit hole of doom...

Tomorrow could be very exciting. If we wind up with take-out, I'll let you know. Otherwise there will be lots of bragging and pictures of food taken with my cell phone as proof that I didn't screw it all up!

Oh, but on to skills I DO have!

When it comes to crafting, I can do crafts that involve cutting and glue. Like a kindergartner. No sewing, no knitting, crochet, measuring, or feng shui. Just good old fashioned cut and paste. Decoupage? Right up my alley! Glitter? My favorite! This has allowed me to make years & years of Christmas ornaments with little to no skill.

Which I proclaim to be a skill!

Unreality, goals, and possibly some denial

So, some days ago (I cannot be bothered to find out actual facts and figures here people), I spent a lovely afternoon folding tiny things. Mostly tiny clothes, though at the end I had aquired quite a sizable pile of tiny shoes. Not pairs of shoes--just one shoe per pair. It's like Beylit got involved somehow... I don't know.

As I sat there folding, I was amazed at just how tiny infant clothes are. It makes sense, as infants are tiny, even the big ones. I remember holding my niece when she was still HOURS old and thinking--how can she be so tiny and yet seem so big at the same time? There's a sort of unreality about babies that way. They seem so small and fragile and delicate and yet... that came out of another HUMAN. The ergonomics of how babies fit inside people is pretty much a mystery. I keep going back to Temerity Jane's organ purse post* to see where the heck this Freckle has gotten to, and being amazed. Seriously amazed. She's crossed the Great Navel Trench. That is sort of weird to me. I look at that diagram and think is it even possible? She's made it this far already, why not further? Because I'm still using that space for me!!

Also, while I know that the goal of this whole project is to have a baby at the end of it--an external, not taking up the space my innards are used to occupying baby--I still can't quite wrap my brain around it. Most of the time, I can wrap my brain around being pregnant. I am carrying a baby--on the inside. Right. Check. That explains the crazy "why are my intestines playing Twister with my liver?" sensations. And yet... there are still times when I... forget? Get surprised? I'll be minding my own business, wearing my own pants, feeling generally just like myself and then I'll see something crazy in my house--like a car seat or some tiny dress and my first thought is usually, "who am I giving that to?" because I can't really fathom that this is happening. I know I'm pregnant, and that means that eventually I'll have a baby. While I know that, I find the fact strangely easy to forget, despite the fact that I'm pretty much thinking about it a lot of times per day and worry that it's the only thing I'm talking about when I see my friends, because while there is other stuff going on in my life right now (work is slowly getting less slow, I'm hosting a belated Christmas celebration at my house where I have to COOK for my MOTHER and BROTHER, which is making me a little nutty), there are also like A MILLION pregnant ladies in my life right now, so it's... all around me.

Maybe because I've had such an easy time? Things have gone remarkably well for me, and I'm very aware of how awesome that is. Between friends who actually live within driving distance of me, MBFJC, book club ladies, and some of my Internet Ladies, the current total of Babies I know getting themselves born in 2012 is... a lot. 19? 20? Something like that. Someone is having twins, so that always throws my count off. Well, one less than that since one of those babies got born on Dec 26th, but it's close enough to 2012 that I'm just going to go ahead and count him in the menagerie. I'm sure he won't mind. His age can still be calculated in understandable amounts of hours, so, you know, he's pretty easy-going about things that aren't his current state of comfort. I assume. I haven't actually met him yet. I think this baby-boom has added to the surreal quality of it all.

There's also the strange fact of... how do you connect the internal baby to the external baby? I know there will be witnesses to assure me that the baby they hand me is the same one I've been poking and talking to, but... how does your brain even compute that? Not that pregnant women aren't AWARE that the baby comes out. We get it. But... I mean... it's weird. I saw all the picture of my friend going from stunningly slender to very, very pregnant and it still wasn't really real until I saw her in person. Even then, it was sort of strange. Hard to connect the fact that this belly sticking out of her was actually HER and there was a PERSON inside. A very tiny person. Well, not too tiny. 8lbs 5 oz on the day of the reveal, so, a baby-sized baby. Still. A person! Inside! And there's one inside me? I have a hard time with that concept, despite the fact that this is EXACTLY what I wanted and what I tried very hard to achieve.

I'm also in denial about my pants at the moment. I know if there is anything about which I have become a sad, bitter, broken record it is pants. I just can't bring myself to pay $70 (plus tax and shipping) for a pair of pants to wear for 3 months that I'd still have to have hemmed once they arrived. I know--me having to have pants hemmed is quite a novelty, but not one I'm interested in experiencing. At 6 months I'm finally starting to feel uncomfortable in my last 4 pairs of wearable pants. I've got Bella Bands. I've got hair-ties. I'm doing my best to extend the life of these pants for as long as possible, because... it's coldish here, and I don't want to wear skirts all the time just yet. Soon enough that will be my only option, and I will suck it up and soldier on. For now, I'm hanging on to my pants with every shred of willpwoer I posses.

I spend a lot of time with my friends who have kids just watching, trying to absorb it all. Seeing what things happen and how they deal with it. I look at the baby pictures my Internet Ladies post and think--someday I'll be posting picture of a baby, not 14,000 pictures of my cats. (Probably only 1000 pictures of my cats.) It just all still seems so far away and unreal. I have a drawer full of cloth diapers. That should make things a little realer, right? Nope. A drawer full of tiny 0-3 month clothes, another of 3-6? 2 baby baths, a car seat, a pack-n-play, a co-sleeper, changing pads, pop-up crib, bag full of toys? Nope. Just stuff. Baby stuff, but... anyone can have stuff. Connecting that stuff with the reality of a tiny person to put in that stuff, that's a little bit harder.

Still, the goal is baby. Full steam ahead! Furniture rearranging has already happened and shall continue until the disaster that is the Sunshine room begins to look like something vaguly nursery like. That's a goal too.


*Yes, I'm using TJ as my go-to for information. I haven't seen that diagram anywhere else, and it's less disturbing than the full-color animated-looking pictures from some of the baby sites.

Getting sucked into the archives

Sometimes I stumble upon a blog by clicking links in my friend's sidebars and then I just keep reading...

Today, I'm stuck in the achives of "Inferior Monologue."

For paragraphs like these:
"So I went toward Century 21 assuring myself (without believing) that if I were to avoid the clothes racks and stay in the basement with the home goods, I could make it back to work without spending. Which is completely inane because my favorite thing to decorate, after my feet, is my apartment. So I got downstairs and it was like WHIZ BANG cranberry curtains, like how in the world did I make it this long without cranberry curtains in my bedroom, like with these things hanging I would not even have a bedroom anymore but a boudoir, gentlemen, like my whole life would change and my heart would be full and the shininess of my hair would improve by 86%. Cranberry curtains. Hot damn." --Kaitlyn, Inferior Monologue.

When these things hit, if they stick, and I'm in a position to do so (slow work, a stuck-at-home illness), I just keep reading, backwards, until I've reached the end... which is the beginning.* It's sort of a compulsion. It's like a novel, only not at all. I still want to feel like I've read it all, as though there were some sort of badge for blog-reading. If there were, I would totally apply.



*That is much more Zen and important sounding that I meant it to be

A Very Pinterest Christmas

So, I got sucked into browsing Pinterest aimlessly looking for crafting ideas. Here's what I found and what I came up with.

Their picture:

Reindeer Rootbeer

My picture: 

Kinda look like Beaker, eh?

So then I took this idea:

Glittery Ornaments

And this idea:

Santa Ornament

And made these:

Glitter ornaments, with... ribbon belts...and jiggaflern

Then I took this idea:

Braided Ribbon Headband

And turned it into this gift for my niece:

Modeled by me

I didn't have enough ribbon do to a whole headband, so I slipped the headband through a loop on the braid

Then I put a little bow on the end

Then I made a mess in my kitchen with these:

Hot Chocolate Truffles

I did make them with the extra sugar as suggested, and on my second batch added a dash of cayenne pepper and nutmeg... because why the heck not, right? They are definitely... softer than I anticipated. Tasty as all get-out when put in milk, but I was thinking more traditional truffle consistency not... smooshy. They are quite smooshy. No pictures of this one sadly as I've given them all away.

So there you have it. Christmas crafts via Pinterest.

The slow hippification of me

Hippification actually has nothing to do with becoming more hippo-like. That would be Hippofication. No, I'm talking about this thing that seems to be happening in my head. This thing where I gradually start looking at things differently. Where I start to consider things that never would have even crossed my pea brain because I didn't know they were possible until I met people on the internet.

Things like cloth diapering, which I've already decided to try. I have 18 tiny diapers of multiple brands, kinds and styles all ready to go. I'm prepared to try.

Things like washing my face with oil. Which, as an oily-type person I never thought I would do, but it turns out my skin isn't as oily as I thought, and there's some chemistry involved that makes oil ok even for oily skin and I'm doing it, and liking it. I just tweaked my recipe to include more olive oil, so we'll see how that works out. So far, I'm really pleased. I can put powder on without seeing little flakes of dead/dry skin on my nose and forehead. I don't have any tea tree oil in my mix, but I have noticed fewer breakouts since I started--which could be due to a change in hormones or something, but I'm going to go ahead and take credit for switching my face care and call it good.

Things like not using shampoo.

I know, it sounds crazy. It really does. Especially since my scalp is a very oily place. I tried one of those Argon/Moroccan/Fancy Oil (not V05) treatment things a while ago. I got a sample from Sephora, so it seemed pretty harmless to try out. Oh, it was bad. My hair was oily for DAYS. The stuff just wouldn't wash out. Icky.

So, please know that when I say that I'm considering not using shampoo, I don't mean that I will become an unwashed person.

Why would I even consider something like this? People who know me (and really, that should be you by now) know that I am a girl who likes her creature comforts. I like fuzzy socks, being an appropriate temperature and only venture into the out-of-doors when I have to. I don't commune with nature. I send nature post cards and plead for her to leave me alone with the bugs and the biting. So, I don't really feel like a good candidate for becoming a hippy. 

So, even though I don't like to be outside IN the environment, that doesn't mean that I don't care about it. And I like saving money. I probably like convenience and saving money a little more than the environment, which is why I can't every really see myself as "green" or "crunchy." I like trying new stuff, so when I see stuff that is new and could potentially save me money, I'm interested. If it helps the environment as a bonus, then hooray. These things combined have led me to this thought:

When my current bottle of conditioner runs out, I will switch to rinsing my hair with apple cider vinegar. Diluted, of course. If I stink like the wrong side of an orchard, you will be my friend and tell me to get myself back to the grocery store for some conditioner in a hurry, right? Thanks.

Then, when my shampoo runs out* I will start using baking soda to clean my head.

I know what some of you sciency-type people are thinking. Baking soda and vinegar?! I promise I won't be making a volcano on my head--both products are diluted in water and used separately. Although, volcano on my head would be a pretty cool trick, and possibly even an incentive to give up my nice smelling shampoo and conditioner.

Still, both are significantly cheaper than even the cheap shampoo, and with a tiny person on the way, I'm all about saving money.

I'm not so set on this that if it doesn't work after 2 weeks I won't march my happy non-hippy butt right back to the store and come back to the shampoo & conditioner fold just like the rest of the world, but it seemed worth a try, right?

Then I can try making my own laundry detergent! I'm already cleaning my face with EVOO, so you know... in for a penny, in for a pound, right?



*And as we all know, this will be quite some time after my conditioner does, because I don't know a single soul in the history of EVER who uses the same amount of shampoo & conditioner. It's totally not just me!

A good day

It's no surprise to anyone who knows me that I've been a bit... nervous about this whole pregnancy thing. Even though I got a clean bill of health at my last physical, things didn't go exactly according to my ultimate and perfect plan. You can go ahead and laugh at that. It is funny. But I had a plan. Or at least... strong wishes.

Gaining 30lbs when I stopped taking birth control certainly wasn't on my list. That fact pushed me into a whole new category as far as the evil BMI is concerned, and if there is any time in the history of ever that you want to be at your absolute best physical condition, I'm pretty sure it's when you're trying to grow another human inside you. Or run a marathon, or lift things twice your weight for fun. Those seem like good times to have all your fecal matter aggregated.

I considered waiting until I could more perfectly get my poop in said scoop before trying. As you can tell, I decided against that plan. I went with the "do what you can while you try" plan. There were lots of vitamins and an increase in my WiiDR time and more fresh veggies and less french fries. You know, those kinds of good things. Then, there was Freckle, and oh did I find 100 new things to worry about. I worried that my body wouldn't do what I wanted it to (grow a healthy baby) or there would be complications. Now, I realize that I am by no means out of the woods yet, so I don't mean to toot my own horn as though everything from now on is smooth sailing and fine and all my worries will be gone. No. Not true.

However, there is something so incredibly satisfying about hearing your doctor say, "You've been taking really good care of yourself! I'm so proud of you." Yeah, she said that. I may have gotten a little misty-eyes because you guys? Being "healthy" isn't really something that I excel at. I excel at indulgence, not self-control. So, I was worried about taking the glucose tolerance test today.

I was worried that the drink was going to be so gross I would get sick (it wasn't, I didn't). I worried that I would fail miserably (I didn't). In fact, the drink was... bearable and I passed. Not just passed, but my numbers were "awesome." My doctor called me a superstar. No anemia either, so hooray for that. Freckle continues to grow right on schedule--she's 1lb 12oz now.

Which totally blows my mind because I have friends whose little girl was born at 25 weeks, 1lb 4 oz, 11.3" long--and is HOME NOW. 4 months old, barely a month past her original due date, and growing, thriving and generally kicking butt with pink bows upon her head. I can truly say that I just can't imagine. I mean, when it happened, I knew it was early. Really early. Scary early. Now... now I have just the littlest glimpse at just how early that really is, how blessed that family is, how wonderful a gift little Sarah is.

I'm going to stop talking about THAT now, because I've had enough of the weepy. Really, the past few days have been full of a lot of... whining! No other word for it. I got a cold, I was tired, etc., etc., etc. But today... today is a good day.

The elusive perfect

There are certain things that I'm still searching for "the perfect" of. Red lipstick was one of those, until I found it at MAC, but of course, it's a limited edition color so some day I will be wailing and moaning the loss of my perfect red, but let's hope that day is many, many years in the future--because I don't follow those guidelines that say you have to throw away all your makeup after a year and buy new stuff. I'll buy new stuff and keep the old, thank you very much. Like that Girl Scout song... Buy new makeup, but keep the old! One is silver and the other gold! Except mascara. That stuff gets cakey and ugly way too soon. But I digress. I don't have a signature scent or that one recipe that I'm famous for yet. I haven't found a little black dress that makes me feel pretty and elegant and can be dressed up and down for multiple occasions. I haven't found the perfect face cleaner, though I am pretty happy with my "clean your face with oil" routine so far. I've got a smidge too much Castor oil in it at the moment, so I need to tweak that recipe. Maybe then it will be perfect. I'll keep you posted.

 

I'm still searching for the perfect daily moisturizer. Here are my criteria that will make it perfect:

• Has sunscreen in it (SPF 15-30 is plenty), but doesn't smell like sunscreen
• Doesn't make my face break out into a million pieces of red, splotchy, pimply agony

That's it! I'm not really all that picky. Just those two things. I've found plenty of lotions that meet 1.5 of those criteria, but the perfect lotion has yet to be found. I keep trying. I have hope. Someday I will settle down with my perfect lotion and I will live happily ever after in sun-protected, acne-free, non-stinky bliss.

 

My lament for pants is both long and well documented, but recently I figured out how to sum it up. You know the old saying that you've got 3 options:

• fast
• good
• cheap

You can pick any 2 of those you want? Well, that's how pants-shopping is for me. My options are pants that fit my:

• waist
• hips
• legs (length).

I can have any 2 of those I want. Obviously, I usually choose legs & hips since pants that don't button/zip aren't as practical. Also, in case you were wondering, you can be any 2 of the following:

• fat 
• tall
• pregnant

 Don't try to do all 3.

 

I have found a few perfect things in my life though.

• My perfect cardigan is from the Cabi 2010 Spring Line, so I'll never be able to buy another one. It's thin enough to be able to put it on & still get a jacket on over it, but warm enough that it's not just decoration. The sleeves are truly 3/4 length, even on my long arms. It ties in front, so does great things for showing off my best feature, and hits at just the right spot on my ribs to not draw attention to my hudge & not make me look pregnant when I'm not. If I could travel back in time and buy 10 of them I would, to last me the rest of my life. And also to stock up on my MAC lipstick.

• My perfect heels sadly bit the dust back in July, 2008. They were black mary-janeish in style, but with a wide, comfy rubberish heel that made it possible to wear them for 8 hours and not want to kill anyone. I wore them for 10 years and loved them until the final bitter end--at MBFJC's wedding rehearsal where they finally bit the dust. Wide heels aren't really in style anymore, so I have yet to find another pair of shoes that had the versatility (black mary janes! Where them with everything!) and comfort of those shoes. But I keep trying. That might explain why I have 4 pairs of black mary jane style shoes at the moment...

• My perfect eyeliner is Makeup Forever's Aqua Eyes, in black. It's creamy and glides on smoothly, even when my eyes are being all crepe-paper-y. You can smudge it if you're quick, then it sets pretty well, and it's not rub-proof, but it is water-proof. Like, in the pool swimming about water-proof. Of course, then I wipe my hands all down my face and maybe smear it a bit, but that's my own fault for wearing eyeliner in the pool, right? Right.

My perfect things are all black. I'm not sure what that says other than I like the versatility of the color. So, now you tell me about your perfects. Perfect go-to party recipe? Perfect bakery where they understand how to make real sourdough bread? Perfect mascara that makes your lashes look real, but even awesomer than nature actually gave you? Perfect rainy-day pick me up treat? You know... those things. Share! Share!

Better run, better run, Faster than my mullet!

Ok, so there's this song, by Foster the People, and the actual lyric is "faster than my bullet" (and this is going to be a bulleted post, so there's the connection, ok?) but someone on Twitter said "mullet" and now I only sing those words. Mullets are better than bullets anyway.

• Have you ever had a brilliant idea for a mix-tape*, only to realize that what you really had was a couple of great songs that go well together, but not a real... theme or motif or reason to built a playlist? Yeah, I have one of those right now. 2 songs that are just killer together, and then a bunch of vauge ideas. The whole thing is full of songs that I like by bands that I think I should like and might like if I investigated any of their other music, but haven't gotten that far yet. As a theme for a mix-tape, that isn't the best I've ever come up with, though probably not the worst either. "Chelsea Danger" by The Fratellis followed by "Flourescent Adolescent" by Arctic Monkeys. Then maybe "The Polite Song" by The Bird and The Bee... I don't know, I kind of get lost after that. Do I want to put some Temper Trap on there to transition to The XX? Santagold? Metric? Do I want to try to figure out what goes well with that one Vampire Weekend song I like? I don't know. It's percolating. Oh, I should put that Jerk It Out song on there too. That song makes me happy.
• I have identified my main pregnancy symptom as "increased whininess." I'm not sure there is a cure, but I'm trying a healthy dose of STFU. We'll see if that leads to implosion and unnecessary blow-ups.
• There was a water-main break under our street this weekend, and they shut our water off on Sunday to fix it. They shut it off after I'd taken a very long bubble bath, and for a few, very-scary minutes I was convinced I'd somehow drained all the water out of the world. Or it was all frozen in the pipes, except it wasn't anywhere near cold enough for that to happen. Thankfully we had a pitcher of filtered water in the fridge, so we could still have Mac & Cheese for lunch.
• I bought a bag of roasted & salted (un-shelled) pistachios on a whim at the grocery store... a lot of days ago. They got stuck on a shelf in the pantry and I forgot about them--which is why I need someone to come organize my pantry for me, because it's just a mess. The point here however is that these nuts are the best things ever. Pistachios, I love them!
• My living room in still in mid-craftsplosion, but my last holiday function before actual family Christmas is Thursday, so I'm hoping to reclaim my living room for living sometime soon. 

*I will continue to call them mix-tapes because it's the only thing that sounds right in my head.

And another thing!

Yesterday, J said to me, "Well now you have something to blog about." Only problem is I have NO IDEA what he said before that. I've completely forgotten.

Last night, I dreamed I was babysitting Penny. Freckle was there too, only on the outside, sitting in a Bumbo, smiling. Penny was smiling too, but she kept wandering off. I'd look away and she'd crawl somewhere and I was getting frantic about trying to find her. I had to change her diaper, but I only had a cover, no insert and it was getting messy. No analysis needed--I'm a little freaked out about this whole "having to be entirely repsonsible for the well being of a tiny human" thing. Why was it an Internet baby, not MY baby? No idea. Maybe because Penny is just so damn cute, and I can more easily identify with her than the kid in my womb? I dunno.

Baby stuff keeps randomly appearing in my house. It's totally awesome to have a sister-in-law with 3 kids, and a baby girl just outgrowing all her tiny stuff. I was getting in my car yesterday when I noticed that a car seat had magically appeared. It has little giraffes on it. How perfect. It also came with 2 boxes full of stuff--tiny baby clothes, including the dress I got my niece Alyssa to wear to our wedding. Talk about memories! There's all kinds of goodies in there as well as clothes--burb cloths and wet bags and really? It's just such a relief to know that we have not only the tangible THINGS that go on a baby, but so many good friends near by who've done this so we can call and say "halp!!" Also, it allows me to go back to my registries and cross stuff off the list. Seriously, we've got all the big stuff covered. We need, you know, the first-aid, health type stuff. And some baby bedding.

Oh, and speaking of giraffe things... I now have this:

It's the softest, squishiest, most awesome giraffe chair-thingy ever. It's from Freckle's Diva Godmother. I mean, Fairy Godmothers are cool and all, but how many kids have a DIVA godmother? Not many I imagine...

Also, tonight I looked like this:

That headband is from the fabulous Raven, who also drives a PT Cruiser, only hers has FLAMES on it. I'm jealous. Anyway, go visit her shop, she makes lots of neat stuff. Feel free to buy me anything you see there. 

I got all dressed up because I was 1) totally pissed off at a computer malfunction that stopped a 9 hr. report at 99% complete and lost all the data I'd spent all day waiting on, and 2) going to see my friend Bill at his book signing. Sounds glamorous, so I decided to wear... plaid. Yes, it was warm, so there. Here is a picture of the anthology that Bill's short story is a part of:

The book in its natural habitat--covered in cat!

We ate good food and Bill read his story and it was really nice. Then I came home and saw this: 

Yep, nothing says "Season's Greetings" to me like my trees all lit up with a kitty in the window.

Ta-da! Now I'm going to bed. 

Things I did and what I will be doing soon

5 whole days of December. What have I done? Stuff. Like this:

We saw the new Muppet Movie on Friday and it was awesome. There was much laughter, especially when [insert bunch of spoilers here] and then I got all weepy when [more things you might not want to know before seeing the movie]. Amy Adams still makes me very happy.

Then, on Saturday, I went to a baby shower, where 10 of the 25 people in the house were pregnant ladies. We lined up by due date for a picture. It was... special. The guest of honor was at the front of the line and I was at the back. We played the "how big is the expectant mother's belly" game and it turns out that my butt is still bigger than her belly at nearly 37 weeks pregnant. So, that felt awesome. My own fault for using my widest point as a reference. We won't be playing THAT game at any showers for me.

The ornaments that I made on Friday, with the help of my friend Paula, whose main duty was to let candles burn an appropriate amount... wait, that sentence got away from me. Let me start over. I made some ornaments on Friday. The idea was from J, and it made me really happy once I finally found all the right ingredients to make it happen. Paula came over & was in charge of candle burning. I did the candle placing & filling of small colored ball things. The ornaments looked lovely on Friday evening. On Sunday morning, they were a disaster. (Don't worry Shannon, I didn't put LIT candles into the ornaments.) Of course, the party at which I was to GIVE said ornaments was that night, so there was much last-minute scrambling and I pretty much hate feeling rushed and running late, even though punctuality isn't really something this group is known for, and it's a PARTY after all.

The untested recipes I used as gifts did NOT go according to plan. I gave them anyway. Without instructions, because our printer broke and I didn't know it. So there was a lot of explaining about what was edible and what was for soaking in the tub, though techincally also edible.

I spent the tail-end of Saturday making more Christmas cards and decorating gift bags with some of my favorite people, and the best thing about that whole day was hearing my friend Jacob say my name. Or, you know, something vaguely like my name. He's 19 months old, so I cut him some slack.

After the crafting explosion of this weekend, I'm still trying to reclaim my living room and kitchen. I know that there will be glitter in places I can't reach until the end of time, but I'm surprised at how much powdered sugar I'm finding in places I'm sure I never went with sugar of any variety.

I have 2 holiday parties and one caroling gig this weekend. I'm both very excited and full of dread. I might have to start napping now to have enough energy to make it through. Really, any excuse to nap will be taken with glee at this point.

Why? Because it was there

One of the things I miss about Live Journal was all the silly memes.
I ran across this one today, and couldn't resist.

Your job is now your Time Lord name. The last digit of your phone number is the current regeneration you are in. The nearest clothing item to your right is now the most notable item in your current wardrobe. The last person you texted is your current companion. Your favorite word is now your catchphrase.

I am The Lease Analyst... Ana for short, in my 7th regeneration, never to be seen without knee-length pink stripped socks. My companion, The Yellow One, never gets tired of hearing all the different ways I can use the word, "dude."