What Makes Me A BAD Girl

The topic of this blog is...like nearly everything involving those of us who are both blessed and cursed by the enhancement of an extra shot (or forty two) of estrogen-a PINCH more complex than it first appears. So...Puh-leez don't expect me to show up on the next season of Girls Next Door clad in pink bunny ears and a fluffy white tail sewn into my satin black teddy and kitten heels. I will NOT be appearing as Hef's latest...(pretending he's not too ancient to taste and savor the) flavor...THAT would be wrong on so many levels it's laughable. Suffice to say...I'm not THAT kind of bad...not Lindsay Lohan:so out of control I can't tell my pills, from my boys-or my girls from my drinks-bad. Nor am I Madonna: been at naughty so long I am running out of innovative ways to be irreverently and creatively-bad (of course that IS precisely why we LOVE her). Thank my lucky stars that I also do not fit Cortney Love's definition of: rode hard and put away train wreck-bad. Not at all what I intend when I state that "I'm a bad girl"...When I say, "I'm a BAD girl..." What I MEAN, is that something in my hard wiring not only fails at...but vehemently rejects and refuses to adhere to some of the most basic and strictly enforced demands of the Girl Code. *Gripping my Girl Card so tightly to my chest that my knuckles turn white...Deep inhale...* Here goes...you can start knitting my scarlet letters "BG" onto my cashmere cardigan now...I have narrowed it down (which as you know is not my forte) to a mere five things that make me a BAD Girl.

1. I'm so pathetically non domestic that Martha would weep and June Cleaver would snatch my pearls away. It is not my mother's fault...or...maybe it is-just not directly. Primarily I trace this Girl FAIL not to a lack of ability, but a lack of interest. My mom is as 1950's housewife as a non-fifties housewife can be...and I think there is a 87% "No thank you-not me"...in my resistance to mastering a mean meat loaf. I adore a vintage style handmade, lace-trimmed apron as much as any June or Lucy...just long as I can wear it "Just Because."

2. There is only room for one drama queen in this show. It's not that bad MOST of the time. My girlfriends are surprisingly low maintenance...because of them, so am I...primarily. If they aren't? I make them vanish with a spray of my Bitch-B-Gone...I know this is a double standard...but life provides enough drama of it's own...and a flair for the dramatic just happens to be a (non-option) option I came equipped with at birth...I recently read a quote "I don't need your attitude- I have one of my own" Anonymous...Ain't that the truth? So...pedal your attitude someplace else sister, I'm all stocked up here.

3. If it doesn't include steamy hot water, loud karaoke style singing and a cookie scented sugar scrub? Showers make me cringe. Don't get me wrong, they are a necessary evil and I go...to LOTS of them. It is not as selfish as it sounds. While I appreciate the thought and effort my loved ones put forth on my behalf, I didn't especially enjoy my own showers. Sue me...toilet paper wedding dresses and guessing what kind of candy bar is mushed up in the tiny make shift diaper...is NOT my idea of a good time. Not to mention that I love giving gifts, but am an awkward gift receiver. Of course I love babies (especially when I am not providing the oven)...who doesn't? But there is something cruel and unusual about being forced to ooohh and aaaahh over diaper duckies and pee pee tee pees. *Whispering...tucking Girl Card into my pink and black polka dotted angel bra* Wedding receptions? Good-if done correctly. Weddings? should be reserved for immediate family and intimate friends...in my not-so-humble opinion. If I do not fit this criteria? I want a reprieve from the governor...pretty, pretty , PRETTY please? I will lead the electric slide to show my gratitude...watch me work...

4.Won't Watch A Lifetime Movie...In THIS Lifetime...This of course is not to say that I am above having my womanly mushiness fully exploited...but I choose the poison. Generally something fuchsia and fizzy...something possessing solid characterization, and a dash of humor tossed in to keep me from hanging myself with my chunky bead necklace, skilled writing is a prerequisite and actors with Edward-esque coifs a bonus (ahem..a must)...Something along the lines of a Grey's Anatomy...Spare me the washed up 90's actresses who end up behind bars for offing their abusive husbands, or their daughter's potential cheer coach for failing to pick lil Suzie-Que for the squad. These events were horrific enough in actual reality...why do we feel the need to relive it with sappy background music and melodramatic reenactments? Pass...

5. Football Over Frills: I AM indubitably a girly girl. Still...shopping can wait-take me to the game/fight already!!! While I do not participate in athletics...ever-the thrill of a live sporting event makes me giddy-with the exception of baseball...I am purely into America's favorite pastime for the sunshine and the hot dogs...even beer tastes better at the ball park...it's magically inexplicable. Where was I?... Oh yeah, "The thrill of victory..."...Who couldn't use a little more excitement in their daily grind? The kind you derive from the crash of helmets, the squeak of rubber soled trainers on a wooden court, a well fought, indisputable tap out paid for with blood and sweat, or the tangible, animalistic ferocity of a goalie defending his territory. Not even a sale at MAC (which is the stuff fairy tales are made of) can top that. So...*singing and swaying* "Take me out to the (insert non-golf sporting event here)game"...After all, the stores are open seven days a week for my convenience.


See? I AM a BAD Girl...told ya'...Oh...I should also mention that I rather enjoy going to the LADIES alone, and that I am a giant failure at requiring the approval of my girls before getting dressed, picking out a new lip gloss, or thinking for myself... and lip service? SO not a gift of mine...So-FINE *Taking charcoal cardigan with ruby and platinum hand stitched lettering and tiny jeweled vintage buttons off your American tipped, perfectly manicured hands. Layering said cardigan over a coordinating long, poppy red ribbed tank and matching peep toes*...Heehee...Well? I may not be such a BAD girl after all *wink-wink*...*tucking my Girl Card safely away in my Marc Jacobs slouch bag and making a gracefully fierce catwalk-like run for it*

Roughing It

So...here I sit...camping (lettin' that seep in like sweet sunshine on the first spring day after a long cold, grueling winter ).........*Crickets...literal ones*.................Uh huh, I said it. Gonna say it again "camp-ing." However-please don't go getting any grand ideas. When I say that I am camping "out"... there are no tents on the frigid,muddy ground-home to the creepy crawlys. Truly-in my spoiled by fluffy, cotton candy pink convenience- baby of three girls- mind set-there are only three solid reasons for sleeping in the dirt...1. You've enlisted in the military and are reporting for incognito, outdoor undercover duties. Your double agent status commands it...Don't think Jason Bourne or James Bond get to toss back unbecoming assignment destinations. Or...Unfortunately you're injured and couldn't get up and dust off if you chose to. If this is you-hang in there- help is on the way. We will discuss how you are able to read this, but not phone for help at a later date. All one sided kidding aside...Wait! One more for my fellow OCD afflicted Grey's fans...Perhaps you collapsed scouring the woods for Mc Dreamy's mother's wedding band that he pitched into the woods a moment of perfectly coiffed and mildly unshaven broodiness...If fiction were ACTUALLY as close to the ACTUAL as it often seems? That would be a likely reason for a dirty earth siesta. Cruel really. 2. Perhaps your eyes were hypnotized by the alluring twinkle of the mischievous midnight stars. Entranced- you were lulled to a sweet dreamless sleep in the precise spot where you lay...on your fluffy comfortably worn-red paisley quilt...or...Similarly, huddled in coziness- your heavy lids slow to a blink-less stop...while you wait to greet the sun as it's finger-like rays faintly trace their way up the twilight dim of the sky and with a kiss of its golden lips bathes the world in glimmering, gilded light . 3. Finally, um...the final dirt nap. Really the ONLY time dirt sleeping isn't optional. Unpleasant yes...but a clear, unarguable reason for sleeping in the dirt.
Thankfully none of those describe me and so...if I am subject to camping by force-or in the least, against my will-aka each and every time I go:)...it is in a heated camper with running water and electricity:) for the shortest sentence necessary.

Being dramatic(stick with what ya' know)-truly camping has it's bonuses.

1. Breathtaking scenery that I unaffectedly catch un-awed glimpses of daily. Camped tonight in the "wilderness" literally twenty minutes from my house. That view includes violet hued mountains wrapping the site like cradling arms-a fishbowl clear blue lake, capped flawlessly by an infinite water color palette of sky.

2. Got to watch a whole-nearly uninterrupted movie...*pinching myself* OUCH!...yeah- I don't quite believe it either.

3. All the snacks you eat are fat free when roughing it. Sorta like the two state rule (or whatever that is)-only with queso and smores made from leftover pink Easter peeps*rubbing pink sugar from phone keys.*

4. My Monkeys look like grubby little extras from Annie and Oliver Twist in turn...and it is a losing battle between the junk food, grime and me chasing two steps behind with a wipe...So I get to tell my OCD what for...for a change:).

5. Nothing to do...please keep in mind that this is a short-lived positive...(this native tends toward restlessness). When I say "nothing" I mean nothing of consequence. Knitting, reading, listening to Pink and painting ones toenails describes a productive evening in paradise...er...camping.

So...the owl is hooting-the coyotes howling, and I will be lucky to get the equivalent of a night nap. The fresh open air seemingly doesn't agree with me. If reoccurring camping insomnia is at all indicative of my lungs' druthers? Stale house air is their Dom Perignon.

Sweetest dreams Prettys. Hope your downy bed is more enticing than this sofa turned bed-type-thing...It could be worse, I could be attempting slumber on the converted table...mmm....comfy...Not exactly a princess (via Princess and the Pea)- but you don't have to be fragile to feel a pole through particle board.

Dare to live the dream.
Sent via BlackBerry from T-Mobile

A Peek at the Cat's Pajamas

Dinner mint colored prom dresses and finger curls...bobby socks and soda fountains...Poodle skirts and rebels with greased back hair...

Although I am quite certain that being a teenager in any decade is /was a challenge-think it would have been pretty fab to be a teenager back in the fifties so that I could be an extra in Blue Hawaii or some old Franky and Annette movie...dance in a harem behind Elvis while he played his guitar in his Hawaiian shirt and swim trunks. Afterward I could utter some amazingly cheesy lingo in the background like "boss, backseat bingo, cherry, big daddy, dream boat, swell...and the cat's pajamas" Mostly, I would say "the cat's pajamas". (Actually I think that originated in the 20's but let's fast forward it to the fifties...)

On second thought, I AM going to bring that back... Why not?

The cat's pajamas is defined by the Urban Dictionary as:

Lingo describing someone (something) who is great, incredible or special. Usually indicating stylishness or innovation. Pajamas were a relatively new fashion in the 1920s. The term "cat" was beginning to be used as a term to describe the out going and unconventional jazz-age flappers.

The cat's pajamas will be cozy right up to my eclectic group of adjectives such as: dreamy-which I use regularly and -tall glass of water...which I reserve for special occasions. Heehee... Oh and I of course turn non words into adjectives by adding "y" and I am NOT the only one. Admit it, you do it too. The English language as it currently exists...need a little flair from time to time. And I am just the girl for the job. So...I didn't want to engage you in another extended kitty metaphor. So I spare you. Just this once. You're welcome.

Instead...dadadada.... picture me unveiling my grand scheme in a sequined Price is Right Girl gown...smiling my best bimbo smile...now...(removing the red velvet curtain) Viola....

Since I like cats and pajamas...and Elvis movies and fifties beach movies starring people from the mickey mouse club and peanut butter commercials... and I worked for a year in a fifties theme restaurant called Angel's (really...it was a family restaurant-sounds like adult entertainment. With juke boxes on the table, pictures of Elvis, James Dean, Marilyn and Bogart all over and Looney Tunes-which I never figured out how those fit in to the theme. I made a million milk shakes and served ridiculously giant pieces of cake- oh I had to wear a red bow tie which I detested and a red apron-yyyuuuuccckkkkk!) when I was in college and I still indulge in vanilla cokes and cherry cokes and vanilla cherry cokes...all with extra cherries and even though I don't know much about them, I have an appreciation of old cars- really LOVE them! Anyway, hopefully you see my point, I think I had one.

Oh there it is, Sit up please- your head fell on it and you leaked a little drool on it during my long drawn out monolog. RUDE! Hahaha abut understandable. Moving on...I am going to give you a peek at the cat's pajamas... According to the definition, let us just pretend I am a hipster. Let's talk pajama talk and I will give you a peek at some of my favs. Some silky, some sassy, some silly, all soft...all mine.

This all came upon me the other day when I was sadistically attempting to put all of my clean clothes away. Like clowns in a circus car. Cramped-not creepy as all get out. Had chick flicks running in the back ground-so it was slightly better than community service. The picking up trash from the side of the highway in a florescent vest kind-but only slightly...Other than clean and dirty- there is no methodology to my "system." So mixed in with suits and dresses, jeans and sweaters-were pajamas...loads of them. More than I remember purchasing...was mesmerizing really...all the fabrics and colors and silhouettes...They distracted me long enough from my drudgery that I will give you a peek- I'm a sharer...sometimes. Right now I am...

So I have a thing for pajamas. The matching kind. There are a few reasons for this. First, I am matching obsessed. Not matchy, matchy...but everything has to "go". Even when I am only going to bed. Have you ever seen the poster for Pajama Game? The male lead is wearing the bottoms of men's pajamas with no shirt and the female lead is wearing the coordinating pajama top with no pants. Two piece Dick Van Dyke style pj's are my among my favorites (but the femme version...in girly prints, colors and fabrics) and for basically the reason that the poster conveys. No-not so I can share half of them with anyone -although Harry is wearing the pants on the most recent poster. He can share my jammies he wants. Haha......hmmm....

NO! BECAUSE you can wear just the top and no bottoms, you can wear the bottoms with a tank or a bra or you can wear the two pieces together. Versatility. right? Of this variety, I have mint green plush ones, red silky polka dot ones, winter blue polka dots with satin trim, hot pink with cup cakes, white with cherries and blue birds and pies... (I have a cherry love too-so I have all kinds of cherry wear.), blue with strawberries , plaids and florals and two pair with sock monkeys on them..not really sure how THAT happened. One pair is summer and one winter-BOTH with sock monkeys some on the beach, some on sleds...Both blue-different shades. Moving on. The half brother to the Van Dyke jams are the pajama pants- not sweat pants. Pajama pants. Boxer style shorts or hipsters. Worn with a tank. Another good mix. Oh and the half sister is the cami and matching panties ideal in summer. Short sets cute too.

Once I sorted out all the two piece pj's and had caught about 7 minutes of the Holiday- I hung a hundred tanks on those little hangers with the hooks for the straps-the ones they always fall off of..I moved on to the nighties...all baby dolls. All of them. Lace and floral, eyelet and satin, silk,chemise, cotton, polka dots and ribbon ...and one Betsy Johnson black ribbed slip style with pink trim and pink ribbon straps and ruffled bottom. Probably Kitten's favorite pajamas...but too cold for them in the winter. I could wear them, but I would never set foot out of the toasty refuge of my over pillowed over blanketed bed.

Will spare you the robe chat. In short- robes allow for the bra and panty as pj's combo... The robe that matches the cute sets...and allow you to have your curtains open and not die a horrible hacking death of pneumonia- all be it in fetching attire.

So those are this cat's pajamas...

Also googled a company called The Cats Pajamas... Obvious what they make...clever-right? I miss pajama parties. Going to bring those back too-while I am at it. Just as soon as I finish pressing my petti-coat.,,the one that won't fit into my closet with all these pajamas.

I bet Gidget could help. Maybe Wally Cleaver.

Kids- Smarter Than You Think

Okay so I mentioned before that I have two kids. Mentioned in my last post that they don't always play nice. They are adorable and sweet...they are funny, dramatic, imaginative, playful and smart. Very SMART...like little mischievous Master Minds. They could be Batman Villains-except MUCH too cute and THANKFULLY no bizarre disfiguring experiences! (i.e. Joker, Two Face, etc.)

So I mentioned in the Playing Nice...? blog-that my son will be like a quiet little storm and then break lose like Hurricane Jasper (are the Js next?) when I get on the phone for business. Well this was a bit like that-with a twist.

So this is how it went down-

Me: Mommy needs to get on the phone for a minute and I am going in the other room, so you two need to play nice (just like the last blog) and keep it down. okay?

Little Evil Genius'/ Cherubs: Okay Mommy (chattering about super heroes and playing tea party on the step stool in the bathroom)

I go into the kitchen and dial the phone. I am in the middle of leaving a message when I hear my daughter sobbing in the other room. So I cover the mouth piece and end my call...running into the bathroom as fast as I can.

Me: Freaking Out a Bit: WHAT IS GOING ON IN HERE?

Little Girl Evil Genius (holding face, still sobbing): He hit me on my head, ears and face.

I kiss the Sweet Crying Baby and turn to the Offending Offspring.

Me: Why did you do that to your sister?

LEG: I don't know.

Me: Yes you do, Why did you smack your sister down?

LEG: I don't know...(this time with less certainty)

Me sensing that the Bad Mommy Cop act is working and I have him where I want him, continue...

Me: YES YOU DO- She didn't do ANYTHING to you...WHY DID YOU HIT YOUR SISTER?

LEG: (Looks at me and then at his sister and then mumbles)...Because I wanted you to get off the phone.

Enough said.

Something I always suspected...figured I was using my Freshman Year Psychoanalyzing Skills-Had absolutely NO idea that he was fully aware of the reasoning behind his actions...

He is five.

Adorable Evil Geniuses...I tell you.




*Thanks to Tia of CGGB for giving me a format idea for the conversation aspect of this blog -Hope she doesn't mind...

Snow Sweet Snow

Today is Thursday. I have always loved Thursday because it is filled with the optimism and promise of the weekend. Beyond that,I live in a cold weather state. The best kind- where the sun comes out most days and melts it away so that we can have a fresh dusting. The glittery pure blanket covers the trees and brings the mountains to life. Come March-however...when we are on our fifth month of snow, it loses some of its loveliness. I choose to be short sided and glass half full-ish now-because in THIS moment it is ABSOLUTELY enchanted.

The snow has come to us later than usual this year. Typically our first snow comes to us in late October-often Halloween...So costumes are tainted by turtlenecks, Ugg boots and winter coats. Hated that as a child-still do! Planning a costume is hard work and a North Face coat is not the finishing touch most of us have in mind. Oh and the spring snows (the ones I am not thinking about) make Easter a challenge. You try wearing a sleeveless dress and strappy sandals while hunting Easter eggs in the snow! Teehe..Those that dream of snow dream of a White Christmas, like in the cheesy movies of which I partake. We often have a dry cold Christmas and soggy Easter...teehee..Such is life!

Anyway! I do RELISH the snow-especially when I can be curled up in front of a good movie, favorite book, or even my computer... Depending what time of the day a steaming cup of java with flavored creamer and Splenda or a glass of Pinot are amongst my favorite winter month companions...

My Babies-NATURALLY want to go out in it. I pacify them enduring the cold every other day or so. Sunday- we built a little snow girl that we had to literally CONSTRUCT. For those of you who do not know snow-there are different types. The wet heavy type is ideal for snow forts and snow people bad on the roads. The light flaky picturesque kind-while breath taking as it dances to the earth-is nearly useless for anything but viewing and maybe boarding or skiing...neither of which I do, so I can't be sure-easy to drive in and only slows down the snow driving newbies to ten miles an hour...haha!

Regardless-The snow has arrived! Snow always brings with it cold weather delights...Fluffy sweaters...Tall boots, long colorful scarves and HATS! Love hats-own more than I wear because whenever I go to wear one-my hair turns out...Again one of those "such is life" things...Starbucks winter coffees, Bath and Body Works Christmas scents-yummy Twisted Peppermint!(Which they removed the glitter from-hooray! not as pretty in the bottle. I greatly appreciate it though because I love the scent, but am not fourteen or a cheerleader/stripper...so time to lay off the body glitter.) Christmas time means concocting all the homemade favorites I had as a child. Think I will ACTUALLY do that this year. Time to start building family traditions as the Bebes are getting old enough to partake and appreciate them. This Christmas season promises to be a DELIGHTFUL one.

So-Welcome Snow Sweet Snow!

...still blocking out the prior knowledge I have ascertained of May snow. Teehee! Guess all relationships bring both ecstasy and detest...otherwise our hearts aren't in them...Right?