Today as I was perusing the headlines on MSNBC.com, I saw a link that said "Are men becoming obsolete?". Gasp!!! What?!? I rolled my eyes and clicked on it and of course, it was some long, boring article about artificial insemination and how scientists have found sperm in bone marrow. Yawn...since Pretty Girl kept waking me up last night, I could have won 48 million dollars and my answer would have been, "great" and then I would have yawned.
I'm sure there are those who might find this news comforting (that is, that sperm can exist outside of the, uh hmmm, regular channels), but in praise of the glorious chemical that is testosterone and those fabulous creatures who find it coursing through their veins, I felt inspired to do a bit of blogging.
After all, without men, there would be no beards, no stubble, no five o'clock shadows. And, oh...how I loveth the five o'clock shadow. Moving right along, don't you love how men can have a strong, thick neck and broad shoulders? That wonderful little cleft in between the shoulder blades which is accentuated by the sinuousness of the musculature shouldn't be overlooked.
Biceps and triceps are nice too. Women can work out for days and days and we are not genetically programmed to achieve the bulk of a man. The difference is glorious, don't you think! Don't forget the pecs...those are pretty too. Wait, lest I forget. Men don't like to be called "pretty." Pecs are hard. There, that's better.
Of course, there's more than just the physical. I got myself a little distracted. I love the way men are generally more aggressive, less emotional, logical in a completely different way than women, stubborn in a completely different way, usually protective, strong.
I suppose that ridiculous link did its job-I clicked on it and started writing about it. But men will never be obsolete...unless water and air became obsolete too.
(dedicated to Mr. Lipstick, of course)
Wednesday, July 15, 2009
Monday, July 13, 2009
The Secret to Good Health
Well, y'all, I feel better! I guess I can make the inference that the real secret to defeating the summer nighttime cough fest is to blog about it twice. I mean, what's the harm in attempting to establish a little cause-and-effect? I'm just giddy that I can drink soda without the tainted flavor of menthol. Cough drops, that is. Not cigs. That's another story, but I digress.
So Saturday, I accomplished a Herculean Feat of Motherhood. Yep, I decided to capitalize that. I felt that proud of myself. I took JBB and Pretty Girl to TWO back-to-back birthday parties. We partied from 3 in the afternoon until 8 that night.
The first involved a giant inflatable water slide and a very elaborate Spiderman cake. The weather was cloudy and on the verge of rain the entire time. If I was a Twilight geek, I would say that it reminded me of Forks, but since I've only read the entire series three times and not four, I'll refrain. It was delightful to watch the kids climb that behemoth and come crashing down over and over. All of us adults would need the services of Dr. Grumpy if we engaged in such mayhem.
The second party was held at one of those Indoor Play Places. JBB and three other boys clobbered each other with inflatable dolphins most of the time. They were extremely aggressive. They never stopped smiling, so I didn't sweat it. Kids sure love inflatable things. They even had a section for age 2 and under. Pretty Girl loved it. She and a little boy from church just couldn't get enough of the baby slide. I was a complete Mama Bear and ran out any older kids who dared enter the baby section. I am usually a little more laid back than that...oh, who am I kidding.
Amazingly enough, I think I had as much fun as the kids. I definitely ate more cake than they did. Mostly though, I love to watch them play with other kids. I am an only child (and even an only grandchild on one side); most of my playing was alone. Seeing them both be utterly comfortable, relaxed, and having fun with lots of different kids is something that both fascinates me and relieves me.
One final thought...
Psalm 34:4. Sometimes things happen in life which terrify your soul. It is handy to know this verse. And believe it.
So Saturday, I accomplished a Herculean Feat of Motherhood. Yep, I decided to capitalize that. I felt that proud of myself. I took JBB and Pretty Girl to TWO back-to-back birthday parties. We partied from 3 in the afternoon until 8 that night.
The first involved a giant inflatable water slide and a very elaborate Spiderman cake. The weather was cloudy and on the verge of rain the entire time. If I was a Twilight geek, I would say that it reminded me of Forks, but since I've only read the entire series three times and not four, I'll refrain. It was delightful to watch the kids climb that behemoth and come crashing down over and over. All of us adults would need the services of Dr. Grumpy if we engaged in such mayhem.
The second party was held at one of those Indoor Play Places. JBB and three other boys clobbered each other with inflatable dolphins most of the time. They were extremely aggressive. They never stopped smiling, so I didn't sweat it. Kids sure love inflatable things. They even had a section for age 2 and under. Pretty Girl loved it. She and a little boy from church just couldn't get enough of the baby slide. I was a complete Mama Bear and ran out any older kids who dared enter the baby section. I am usually a little more laid back than that...oh, who am I kidding.
Amazingly enough, I think I had as much fun as the kids. I definitely ate more cake than they did. Mostly though, I love to watch them play with other kids. I am an only child (and even an only grandchild on one side); most of my playing was alone. Seeing them both be utterly comfortable, relaxed, and having fun with lots of different kids is something that both fascinates me and relieves me.
One final thought...
Psalm 34:4. Sometimes things happen in life which terrify your soul. It is handy to know this verse. And believe it.
Sunday, July 12, 2009
Did You Know That Halls Cough Drops Have 15 Calories Each?
Well, they do. You can find that on the side of the bag, or on their website, or on one of those anorexia sites where people brag about only eating celery. I have been coughing so much lately that I think my tongue is permanently Halls cherry red. Mr. Lipstick and I have been fighting a particularly persistent summer cold. We take turns waking each other up in the middle of the night with our coughing, snoring, and other attractive bodily functions. It is a truly glamorous life we lead. Sexy too.
Many thanks to you all for your kind well wishes! A Purell-sanitized hug to you all!
Many thanks to you all for your kind well wishes! A Purell-sanitized hug to you all!
Wednesday, July 08, 2009
Off-Key and Kinda Nasal
I've got the Blow-Your-Nose, Cough-Drop Blues. I'll be back soon. I miss y'all!
Saturday, July 04, 2009
Special Feature on the Fourth
Happy Independence Day! I hope everyone is able to have some time to relax and reflect today, eat a bit too much, and see some fireworks. My blog friend Privilege whom I hold in high esteem has featured Pretty Girl today. I am just giddy about it!
Wednesday, July 01, 2009
My Tipping Point
Sigh...you know that point in the middle of the night when (you may or may not have awoken after taking a nap on the couch)...
and you are wide awake
but everyone else is sound asleep
and it is too late to take anything to make yourself become sound asleep again?
Well, that is me. Right now.
It happened innocently enough. Mr. Lipstick went to bed first which is never a good thing. He snores, and although it is a truly charming sound akin to birds singing or angels' wings flapping, it does keep me awake. I decided to watch just a few more minutes of TV and...then it was...2:30 AM.
Two thirty AM is a bad time for television. There was nothing on but one of those freaky half celeb/half pro poker games. Those people are so odd, and they all have that annoying habit of clinking their chips NON-STOP. If you happen to be one of those people, then congrats on being delightfully quirky and dealing with all of those other weirdos and all of that clinking.
Since the passing of our dear Billy Mays there wasn't even the respite of an Oxi-Clean advertisement to amuse me. I was forced to switch through other channels and made the disturbing discovery that the Bare Minerals infomercial was on seven (yes, seven!) channels. So, P90x it is. Man, these folks are dedicated. If you ever want to see something funny though, just log onto Craig's List for your city and see how many P90x systems are for sale.
And finally, I can see no better use of my bout of insomnia than to troll the internet looking for fun and funny things for our amusement. Check out this site for a giggle. Here's a sampling of the fun:
Notice Batman on the left.
And finally, my personal fave...
and you are wide awake
but everyone else is sound asleep
and it is too late to take anything to make yourself become sound asleep again?
Well, that is me. Right now.
It happened innocently enough. Mr. Lipstick went to bed first which is never a good thing. He snores, and although it is a truly charming sound akin to birds singing or angels' wings flapping, it does keep me awake. I decided to watch just a few more minutes of TV and...then it was...2:30 AM.
Two thirty AM is a bad time for television. There was nothing on but one of those freaky half celeb/half pro poker games. Those people are so odd, and they all have that annoying habit of clinking their chips NON-STOP. If you happen to be one of those people, then congrats on being delightfully quirky and dealing with all of those other weirdos and all of that clinking.
Since the passing of our dear Billy Mays there wasn't even the respite of an Oxi-Clean advertisement to amuse me. I was forced to switch through other channels and made the disturbing discovery that the Bare Minerals infomercial was on seven (yes, seven!) channels. So, P90x it is. Man, these folks are dedicated. If you ever want to see something funny though, just log onto Craig's List for your city and see how many P90x systems are for sale.
And finally, I can see no better use of my bout of insomnia than to troll the internet looking for fun and funny things for our amusement. Check out this site for a giggle. Here's a sampling of the fun:
Notice Batman on the left.
And finally, my personal fave...
Sunday, June 28, 2009
Oxi-Clean
Because I am quite fond of anything that costs $19.95 plus shipping and handling, I'm sad about this too.
By the way, today I watched the full length videos for "Billie Jean" and "Beat It" on VH1. Imagine that...VH1 actually living up to their name. Since both MTV and VH1 have been slacking on delivering music to us for a good twenty years, it's been awhile since I've seen those videos. Let me tell you, they are just as fabulous as they were the first time I saw them. No one dances like MJ. I like to remember him like that instead of...well, anything associated with 1990 or later. It's just like how everyone would rather remember the 1968 Comeback Special Elvis instead of the bloated 1975 Las Vegas Elvis. Please excuse my grouchiness. As you can tell, I still hold a pretty fierce grudge against VH1 for taking away Behind the Music.
Let's all relax and pretend that all of our backyards look like this one:
I hope everyone has a good and productive Monday!
By the way, today I watched the full length videos for "Billie Jean" and "Beat It" on VH1. Imagine that...VH1 actually living up to their name. Since both MTV and VH1 have been slacking on delivering music to us for a good twenty years, it's been awhile since I've seen those videos. Let me tell you, they are just as fabulous as they were the first time I saw them. No one dances like MJ. I like to remember him like that instead of...well, anything associated with 1990 or later. It's just like how everyone would rather remember the 1968 Comeback Special Elvis instead of the bloated 1975 Las Vegas Elvis. Please excuse my grouchiness. As you can tell, I still hold a pretty fierce grudge against VH1 for taking away Behind the Music.
Let's all relax and pretend that all of our backyards look like this one:
I hope everyone has a good and productive Monday!
Thursday, June 25, 2009
Wednesday, June 24, 2009
Newsworthy-ish
I keep seeing this headline, "Wal-Mart Courts Wealthier Customers." Legitimate recession-survival tactic aside, I couldn't suppress a giggle. Do they mean these folks?
Sunday, June 21, 2009
HIETYHGIATYAMDAILYSVVVM
That long and seemingly random list of letters, dear readers, is actually an acronym for a favorite saying that Daddy Lipstick and I have for one another. We say it to each other at the end of phone conversations and sign it at the end of emails.
We also write it at the end of letters. Probably the most memorable time was at the close of a letter Daddy Lipstick sent during my junior year of high school. I was at cheerleading camp and he wrote a long letter-at least a few pages-about the little things at home that were occurring in my absence and how much he and Mommy Lipstick missed me. The other girls were incredulous. "Your dad wrote that?" one said. "My dad wouldn't have that much to say to me," another commented. The rest of the girls laughed and agreed. I was a bit sad for them, but still completely engrossed in my letter. I am still grateful beyond my ability to express it that my father has always had that much to say to me.
Daddy Lipstick has taken me on "Days Out" my whole life. What this means is that we would leave in the morning and go exploring for the entire day. We picked wildflowers on the side of the road; looked at Christmas lights; rode down the highway with the windows rolled down when it below freezing just for fun; watched movies; ate lots of Mexican food; met Mr. Greenhaw; listened to every song the Beatles ever sang; spent countless hours in the library and riding around Memphis and Shelby Forest; rode an elevator up thirty stories and when someone very snobby asked what we were doing, we replied, "we're looking for the restroom"; browsed lots of used bookstores and record stores; and rode around some more.
Perhaps the three most important things a father can give a child are his love, his patience, and his interest. Thank you Daddy Lipstick for all three.
Have I Ever Told You How Glad I Am That You Are My Daddy And That I Love You So Very Very Very Much?
We also write it at the end of letters. Probably the most memorable time was at the close of a letter Daddy Lipstick sent during my junior year of high school. I was at cheerleading camp and he wrote a long letter-at least a few pages-about the little things at home that were occurring in my absence and how much he and Mommy Lipstick missed me. The other girls were incredulous. "Your dad wrote that?" one said. "My dad wouldn't have that much to say to me," another commented. The rest of the girls laughed and agreed. I was a bit sad for them, but still completely engrossed in my letter. I am still grateful beyond my ability to express it that my father has always had that much to say to me.
Daddy Lipstick has taken me on "Days Out" my whole life. What this means is that we would leave in the morning and go exploring for the entire day. We picked wildflowers on the side of the road; looked at Christmas lights; rode down the highway with the windows rolled down when it below freezing just for fun; watched movies; ate lots of Mexican food; met Mr. Greenhaw; listened to every song the Beatles ever sang; spent countless hours in the library and riding around Memphis and Shelby Forest; rode an elevator up thirty stories and when someone very snobby asked what we were doing, we replied, "we're looking for the restroom"; browsed lots of used bookstores and record stores; and rode around some more.
Perhaps the three most important things a father can give a child are his love, his patience, and his interest. Thank you Daddy Lipstick for all three.
Have I Ever Told You How Glad I Am That You Are My Daddy And That I Love You So Very Very Very Much?
Friday, June 19, 2009
Pharmagiggle
Spoken by an exasperated patient after finding out her insurance company wouldn't cover her blood pressure medication without a prior authorization:
"Ma'am, do you sell cigarettes here?"
"Ma'am, do you sell cigarettes here?"
Wednesday, June 17, 2009
Shoo Fly...Don't Bother Me
Have y'all seen this?
The news just depresses me these days...the Air France crash, the economy, the journalists being held in N. Korea...that's all it takes and I practically need chemical intervention to nudge me out of gloom and despair. That is why I love seeing the President of the United States successfully swatting a fly, and then picking it up off the carpet. I find that delightfully amusing, whimsical, and giggle-inducing. I will be honest and tell you that after that story, I turned off the news.
The news just depresses me these days...the Air France crash, the economy, the journalists being held in N. Korea...that's all it takes and I practically need chemical intervention to nudge me out of gloom and despair. That is why I love seeing the President of the United States successfully swatting a fly, and then picking it up off the carpet. I find that delightfully amusing, whimsical, and giggle-inducing. I will be honest and tell you that after that story, I turned off the news.
Monday, June 15, 2009
Lipstick but no Ink
I have no tattoos. For one simple reason. His name is Mr. Lipstick and he would have a colossal fit. He would probably require an emergent admission to an area hospital for an entire constellation of coronary and neurological symptoms secondary to my tattoo acquisition. So in the interest of the preservation of my dear Mr. Lipstick, sigh, I have no tattoos.
I am, however, a huge fan of tattoos and people who have them. I used to love Miami Ink and L.A. Ink on TLC until there were just too many stories about tribute tattoos. I cried every episode. I don't need that sort of thing, y'all; it screws up my contacts. I still love Ami James and Kat Von D though. Here they are in all their inked glory.
Here's a little sampling of Ami's art:
Now I think that psychedelic samurai guy is pretty freaky too, but let's deconstruct. (I'm borrowing that word from Privilege, who is a master. Deconstruct-er, that is. Tattooer, I doubt it.)
Notice the vivid color, the intricacy of the design, the layers upon layers of detail. Then remember that this was created with a metal tool injecting tiny amounts of ink into a moving, soft, pliable, rounded canvas. Amazing.
No wonder that every tattoo is not the work of art that is showcased on Miami Ink and L.A. Ink. Here are a few examples for your entertainment:
I am, however, a huge fan of tattoos and people who have them. I used to love Miami Ink and L.A. Ink on TLC until there were just too many stories about tribute tattoos. I cried every episode. I don't need that sort of thing, y'all; it screws up my contacts. I still love Ami James and Kat Von D though. Here they are in all their inked glory.
Here's a little sampling of Ami's art:
Now I think that psychedelic samurai guy is pretty freaky too, but let's deconstruct. (I'm borrowing that word from Privilege, who is a master. Deconstruct-er, that is. Tattooer, I doubt it.)Notice the vivid color, the intricacy of the design, the layers upon layers of detail. Then remember that this was created with a metal tool injecting tiny amounts of ink into a moving, soft, pliable, rounded canvas. Amazing.
No wonder that every tattoo is not the work of art that is showcased on Miami Ink and L.A. Ink. Here are a few examples for your entertainment:
Tuesday, June 09, 2009
Pounding the Pavement
Sometimes life is not fair. I am extra, super-duper, unreasonably, over-exhausted this evening. I haven't a strand of creativity remaining. My eyelids keep banging together like shutters in a storm and my head is bopping around like a buoy. This vaguely conjures up an image of a lighthouse in my fuzzy, foggy mind. I am probably committing a cardinal sin against the guiding principles of the blogosphere...thou shalt not blog while sleepy. The real problem is that I want to blog and I tend to allow myself to do what I want.
Oh yes, and back to why life is not fair. You know why I am enduring this extra measure of fatigue? I wore these today.
Sorry to disappoint you...I did not accomplish fabulous things on the treadmill like reading Ayn Rand whilst burning 800 calories. I merely completed my activities of daily life. And I wore these shoes. When did I get so old that just wearing shoes is some kind of workout? Am I on the cusp of the ripe old age of being too feeble and frail to carry a purse too?
Oh yes, and back to why life is not fair. You know why I am enduring this extra measure of fatigue? I wore these today.
Sorry to disappoint you...I did not accomplish fabulous things on the treadmill like reading Ayn Rand whilst burning 800 calories. I merely completed my activities of daily life. And I wore these shoes. When did I get so old that just wearing shoes is some kind of workout? Am I on the cusp of the ripe old age of being too feeble and frail to carry a purse too?
Sunday, June 07, 2009
Happy, Happy
This happy couple is Mommy and Daddy Lipstick circa 1966. June 5, 1971 was their wedding day. Theirs is a funny and fun relationship, a lovely and delightful dance of acceptance and compromise, passionate giving and humble receiving; it is quirky and strange, strong and amazing. Most importantly, it works and it has for 38 glorious years. Happy Anniversary Mommy and Daddy Lipstick! I love you so very much!
Also, happy birthday to my super cool At Work Friend! She is gracious enough to visit Lipstick-land despite spending forty hours every week with me, is very punctual, extremely logical, and has excellent taste in restaurants. Her tiny waist is inversely proportional to her judgement and razor-sharp clinical skills. I am grateful to work beside her, and thankful that she visits Lipstick-land since you just don't say these sort of things in everyday conversation. Happy birthday, dear friend!
And finally, gentle readers, I must add in just a little tiny bit of TMI. On the afternoon of June 4th, Pretty Girl's teacher called me at work to let me know that she had gone "pee-pee on the potty!" Pretty Girl's teachers are acutely aware of how much I worship the ground that she walks on; they even called me last week when she made a valiant albeit unsuccessful potty attempt. I heart them. Way to go, Pretty Girl!
Saturday, June 06, 2009
A Post That Must Not Be Missed
Today's offering from The Preppy Princess. I would salute you if I felt worthy.
Wednesday, June 03, 2009
I Am Posting This and Not That
I have been thinking a lot about gratitude these days...writing a lot about it too. My writings, unfortunately, are mostly ramblings, so in lieu of posting that, I am posting this. The following are a few random facts about me. The previous sentence actually reminds me of one of my favorite college roommates and sorority sisters. When I fell madly in love with Mr. Lipstick, I inundated every semi-willing ear with information about his life and hobbies and talents and...well, you get the picture. One day when I was in the midst of one such enthralling story, my dear friend interrupted and said, "Ding, Ding, Ding!!! Useless fact about Mr. Lipstick!" Then she paused with that always fabulous, did-I-just-piss-her-off-expression. I still laugh about that to this day.
Well, y'all...ding, ding, ding.
Here is a changing table I am going to sell on Craig's List.
I hope someone wants it. I don't need it anymore. My babies are grown up. Sniff, sniff. We do not need a changing table at Lipstick Manor anymore.
I grew up looking across the road at this pond. I took this picture from Nonna's front room. It was a rainy, foggy Saturday morning, and it looked sublimely beautiful to me.
This old store is about 15 minutes down the road. It hasn't actually been a store in about thirty years. Nature is slowly reclaiming this site, and while it is sad in a way, it is also comforting too. It has looked like this for as long as I can remember. If it were cleaned up, torn down, or heaven forbid, housed something new like a strip mall, I would be very sad at the change. I took this picture on a recent visit with Nonna and Mommy and Daddy Lipstick. I figured this land wouldn't sit unchanged forever, and I would grieve if I only had my memory.
Mr. Lipstick sings to us in the mornings. Pretty Girl likes to stack dolls and stuffed animals on top of him while he sings. He has infinite patience about the whole situation, even while JBB tries to stop her, all the while creating even more distraction to our morning concert. It is hilarious and comforting and precious. See that pile of messiness to the left. That is a glimpse into my closet. It is big. It used to be a bedroom and Mr. Lipstick converted it into a closet for me. Basically I just have more room to make a bigger mess. My name is Lipstick and I have a messy closet. If you came to my house, I would not show it to you. It is your job to look this sort of dirt up about me on the internet.
And finally...summer is here. I cannot wait for some pool time!
This picture is from our vacation last year. Of course, I can't believe how much the kids have grown in a year's time. And, by the way, that ladybug-pool-thing that Pretty Girl is sitting in...she really hated it.
Well, y'all...ding, ding, ding.
Here is a changing table I am going to sell on Craig's List.
I hope someone wants it. I don't need it anymore. My babies are grown up. Sniff, sniff. We do not need a changing table at Lipstick Manor anymore. I grew up looking across the road at this pond. I took this picture from Nonna's front room. It was a rainy, foggy Saturday morning, and it looked sublimely beautiful to me.
This old store is about 15 minutes down the road. It hasn't actually been a store in about thirty years. Nature is slowly reclaiming this site, and while it is sad in a way, it is also comforting too. It has looked like this for as long as I can remember. If it were cleaned up, torn down, or heaven forbid, housed something new like a strip mall, I would be very sad at the change. I took this picture on a recent visit with Nonna and Mommy and Daddy Lipstick. I figured this land wouldn't sit unchanged forever, and I would grieve if I only had my memory.
Mr. Lipstick sings to us in the mornings. Pretty Girl likes to stack dolls and stuffed animals on top of him while he sings. He has infinite patience about the whole situation, even while JBB tries to stop her, all the while creating even more distraction to our morning concert. It is hilarious and comforting and precious. See that pile of messiness to the left. That is a glimpse into my closet. It is big. It used to be a bedroom and Mr. Lipstick converted it into a closet for me. Basically I just have more room to make a bigger mess. My name is Lipstick and I have a messy closet. If you came to my house, I would not show it to you. It is your job to look this sort of dirt up about me on the internet.
And finally...summer is here. I cannot wait for some pool time!
This picture is from our vacation last year. Of course, I can't believe how much the kids have grown in a year's time. And, by the way, that ladybug-pool-thing that Pretty Girl is sitting in...she really hated it.
Sunday, May 31, 2009
It's Been a Good One
Don't you just love these early summer weekends? See that big ole dandelion in the corner...I didn't even get around to pullin' that out 'til Sunday night. No real sense of urgency at all.
Saturday afternoon Mommy and Daddy Lipstick returned JBB to us in the usual grandparent manner (safe, sound, and spoiled). They graciously treated us to a relaxing lunch at one of my favorite locally owned restaurants. The food was fabulous, the iced tea was plentiful, and there was a gentleman who came by the table three times to do fun little magic tricks to entertain us. JBB said in his loudest child voice, "Mommy, do you know what color his skin is called?...It is called African-American." You've gotta love the loud child voice. In public.
In other news, the following are three new favorites of mine:
PrivilegeShe is a "52 year old executive brought up in privilege" and "standing still for a moment to examine the implications." Another way to say it is that she is fascinating. You will find yourself at the bottom of the page clicking on older posts because you want to read more. I promise.
Dr. Grumpy
A neurologist with a wicked sense of humor. Priceless and totally addictive. Meet your newest guilty pleasure.
Kings of LeonI know these guys have been a big deal for a few years now, but since I am more on the cutting edge of baby products than excellent music, I was a bit late to this party. Now, y'all, I can't get enough.
Wednesday, May 27, 2009
The Best Thing About the Internet
I just love the internet. It is so fabulous. The Google is always around to answer any trivia question you may have or readily settle any heated debate in which you find yourself engaged. You are never alone on the internet. Nothing you can think of is too weird because there is already a website and a sponsored ad to accompany your search inquiry. If you happen to find something truly unique, well, just rephrase, and those sponsored ads will appear.
This, of course, is the segue to introduce how the internet has been my accomplice, my untiring, electronic enabler for my current obsession. I think Adam Lambert looks like Elvis Presley. A lot.
I have always loved Elvis. Now I love Adam. There are thousands and thousands of pictures on Google Images of them both, and they simply must be viewed, sorted, cataloged, and picasa-collaged.
Now, I know that you are saying to yourself, "Ok, seriously, who has this much time?" Well, that would be me. After the little ones are in bed and Mr. Lipstick is buried in legal books, I have to be quiet. I could fold laundry, scrub the grout in the tub, or empty the litterbox. All of those tasks are available for my choosing. Oh, the options that are available to me! But somehow my laptop looks a little lonely; that thin little technological wonder and the world hidden inside is beckoning me. Adam and Elvis it is. Without further ado...
This, of course, is the segue to introduce how the internet has been my accomplice, my untiring, electronic enabler for my current obsession. I think Adam Lambert looks like Elvis Presley. A lot.
I have always loved Elvis. Now I love Adam. There are thousands and thousands of pictures on Google Images of them both, and they simply must be viewed, sorted, cataloged, and picasa-collaged.
Now, I know that you are saying to yourself, "Ok, seriously, who has this much time?" Well, that would be me. After the little ones are in bed and Mr. Lipstick is buried in legal books, I have to be quiet. I could fold laundry, scrub the grout in the tub, or empty the litterbox. All of those tasks are available for my choosing. Oh, the options that are available to me! But somehow my laptop looks a little lonely; that thin little technological wonder and the world hidden inside is beckoning me. Adam and Elvis it is. Without further ado...
Tuesday, May 26, 2009
Hopsy
Hopsy, I miss you!!! I am so sorry that someone would post unkind comments on your blog. You have many fans and we all feel devastated on your behalf. Cyberhugs to you!
(fyi: Hopsy of Monograms and Manicures had to abruptly set her blog to private).
(fyi: Hopsy of Monograms and Manicures had to abruptly set her blog to private).
Sunday, May 24, 2009
Wednesday, May 20, 2009
It's Wednesday, Right?
Thank you for all your kind comments and well wishes! I finally feel better! Turns out I actually had "strep throat" and after receiving two shots today I am like a new person.
Being the patient is always kind of a goofy experience. Mercifully Mr. Lipstick drove me to the appointment. I was just too tired, too weak, and in too much pain to manage it myself. Since my fabulous doctor created an appointment where there was none, I knew I was probably going to experience a bit of a wait. I remembered to bring my iPod. Some middle aged woman looked at me disapprovingly, her brows furrowed and her lips pursed. I wanted to cough on her. A man to my left glanced at me with a mixture of surprise and, "gee, why didn't I think of that?" in his eyes. Mr. Lipstick stoically read and highlighted the finer points of limited liability partnerships despite non-stop HGTV on the waiting room television.
While I was waiting a woman walked passed me towards the reception area. She was wearing a simple cotton dress. All of her hair was carefully tucked into a small starched black bonnet with a myriad of little pins. Her skin was clear, and she wore no make-up. Pentecostal, Mennonite, maybe? I was so intrigued that I immediately began listing all of the groups for whose members might dress in such a characteristic manner. Suddenly I was self-conscious. I was deep in thought, but did I appear disapproving? I fervently hoped not. My eyes instinctively fell to the floor.
Another bit of minutiae to capture my attention...she was wearing plaid Vans. What?? Vans. In case you've forgotten, here's a reminder.
I just couldn't resist mentioning that fun fashion paradox.
Before I could begin speculating on the polyester content of the latest patient's red pantsuit, my name was called and I was ushered into the inner sanctum of the exam room. Isn't it funny how sometimes just seeing your doctor makes you feel a little better right away? When I was growing up, our family doctor was Dr. Jimmy. He was nothing short of amazing. He would walk in, pat your knee, and listen. My current doctor has a very gentle manner and a soothing voice. My recovery was beginning. After two shots in the but-tocks (run, Forrest, run), I was on my way to back to normal life.
Normal life includes, of course, a bit of swooning for him.
Oh my goodness, I can't even tell y'all how much I loooooved the 7 foot tall Adam with KISS. Sigh...I heart Adam. I don't even really care all that much that he lost AI. I think there will be plenty of Adam music and merch to offer some satiety for my Adam cravings. It's all good. He's great though...the voice, and don't y'all think he looks like Elvis...
Being the patient is always kind of a goofy experience. Mercifully Mr. Lipstick drove me to the appointment. I was just too tired, too weak, and in too much pain to manage it myself. Since my fabulous doctor created an appointment where there was none, I knew I was probably going to experience a bit of a wait. I remembered to bring my iPod. Some middle aged woman looked at me disapprovingly, her brows furrowed and her lips pursed. I wanted to cough on her. A man to my left glanced at me with a mixture of surprise and, "gee, why didn't I think of that?" in his eyes. Mr. Lipstick stoically read and highlighted the finer points of limited liability partnerships despite non-stop HGTV on the waiting room television.
While I was waiting a woman walked passed me towards the reception area. She was wearing a simple cotton dress. All of her hair was carefully tucked into a small starched black bonnet with a myriad of little pins. Her skin was clear, and she wore no make-up. Pentecostal, Mennonite, maybe? I was so intrigued that I immediately began listing all of the groups for whose members might dress in such a characteristic manner. Suddenly I was self-conscious. I was deep in thought, but did I appear disapproving? I fervently hoped not. My eyes instinctively fell to the floor.
Another bit of minutiae to capture my attention...she was wearing plaid Vans. What?? Vans. In case you've forgotten, here's a reminder.
I just couldn't resist mentioning that fun fashion paradox.Before I could begin speculating on the polyester content of the latest patient's red pantsuit, my name was called and I was ushered into the inner sanctum of the exam room. Isn't it funny how sometimes just seeing your doctor makes you feel a little better right away? When I was growing up, our family doctor was Dr. Jimmy. He was nothing short of amazing. He would walk in, pat your knee, and listen. My current doctor has a very gentle manner and a soothing voice. My recovery was beginning. After two shots in the but-tocks (run, Forrest, run), I was on my way to back to normal life.
Normal life includes, of course, a bit of swooning for him.
Oh my goodness, I can't even tell y'all how much I loooooved the 7 foot tall Adam with KISS. Sigh...I heart Adam. I don't even really care all that much that he lost AI. I think there will be plenty of Adam music and merch to offer some satiety for my Adam cravings. It's all good. He's great though...the voice, and don't y'all think he looks like Elvis...
Monday, May 18, 2009
Friday, May 15, 2009
GNO
I am just giddy with excitement! My children are bathed and are currently eating a healthy, albeit slightly mismatched supper of leftovers while wearing clean PJs and watching a 1965 episode of Bewitched. I am on my way out the door for Girls Night Out with a super-cool pharm-mommy friend of mine. We are going to consume lots of salt-filled Mexican food on a fabulous patio and wash it all down with salt-rimmed strawberry margaritas and giggle the entire time. See y'all tomorrow!
Wednesday, May 13, 2009
Sunday, May 10, 2009
Happy Mother's Day
Happy Mother's Day to my Mommy, both of my grandmommies, and all of you lovely mommies in blogland!
My Mother's Day celebration began on Thursday afternoon with a tea at JBB's school and included a weekend trip to see Nonna and Mommy Lipstick and then concluded this afternoon with presents and a steak dinner cooked by Mr. Lipstick. It was wonderful. I am exhausted from the fabulousness. I took lots of pictures and I can't wait to share, but despite my legendary sense of organization (wink, wink), I have somehow misplaced the cord for the camera, and voila...no pictures. I am so tired that I am actually going to bed early. Something may be seriously wrong with me.
My Mother's Day celebration began on Thursday afternoon with a tea at JBB's school and included a weekend trip to see Nonna and Mommy Lipstick and then concluded this afternoon with presents and a steak dinner cooked by Mr. Lipstick. It was wonderful. I am exhausted from the fabulousness. I took lots of pictures and I can't wait to share, but despite my legendary sense of organization (wink, wink), I have somehow misplaced the cord for the camera, and voila...no pictures. I am so tired that I am actually going to bed early. Something may be seriously wrong with me.
Wednesday, May 06, 2009
An Itsy Bitsy Teeny Weeny Hint of a Rant
I love American Idol. I try to act chic and embarrassed about it, but since I am simply unable to hide my ebullience, I just have to deal with appearing like any other goofy American willfully imprisoned to the television on Tuesday and Wednesday nights. Now I have had some favorites in the past, but nothing compares to Adam Lambert. Oh, y'all. I love The Adam. Here he is.
I love his voice and his charisma. I really love that spiky, fuzzy hair of his. I think he is pretty and his bone structure is blissfully reminiscent of The Elvis. He is also very tall. And I love tall. Oh, and then there's the voice. Did I mention the voice? Thank you DVR, because I have to watch his performances two or four times...
But now for my little rant-ette...every single week on Facebook there are a varied group of friends of friends who keep writing little blurbs about how Adam is just "so freaky" and "creepy" and "strange" and....if I devoted more than half a second I might remember more adjectives.
Of course, they are entitled to their opinions, blah, blah, blah. It made me grouchy-ish which is why I'm blogging about it. Mr. Lipstick says, "you know he's [stage whisper] gay, right?". Mr. Lipstick thinks the whole swoon-worthy/gay man dichotomy is pretty funny. Whatever. I had a crush on George Michael back in 1984.
I digress. Why do people consistently write...week after week after week...that they are so freaked out by Adam?
I love his voice and his charisma. I really love that spiky, fuzzy hair of his. I think he is pretty and his bone structure is blissfully reminiscent of The Elvis. He is also very tall. And I love tall. Oh, and then there's the voice. Did I mention the voice? Thank you DVR, because I have to watch his performances two or four times...But now for my little rant-ette...every single week on Facebook there are a varied group of friends of friends who keep writing little blurbs about how Adam is just "so freaky" and "creepy" and "strange" and....if I devoted more than half a second I might remember more adjectives.
Of course, they are entitled to their opinions, blah, blah, blah. It made me grouchy-ish which is why I'm blogging about it. Mr. Lipstick says, "you know he's [stage whisper] gay, right?". Mr. Lipstick thinks the whole swoon-worthy/gay man dichotomy is pretty funny. Whatever. I had a crush on George Michael back in 1984.
I digress. Why do people consistently write...week after week after week...that they are so freaked out by Adam?
Monday, May 04, 2009
Not Much of Nothin'
You know when I first started reading blogs and people would go for days without posting, I would wonder, "well, what are they doing?" and "why aren't they posting?" and "are they ever coming back?". I have now been blogging for just over a year (whoo hoo!) and now I know that sometimes you are just too tired to fold clothes while typing...no matter how great and inspired your post idea.
I did find these comf-ugly shoes made my Crocs. I am ordering them. Don't judge me.
Ok, some of you are appalled by the tackiness. I can feel it, but I think I will be overwhelmed by the ahhhhhh.... feeling.
Have you heard this song by Serena Ryder? I *love* it. I wish I could sing like that-all raspy and feminine at the same time. I have been singing it a lot anyway in my car with a totally adorable and completely captive audience.
I did find these comf-ugly shoes made my Crocs. I am ordering them. Don't judge me.
Ok, some of you are appalled by the tackiness. I can feel it, but I think I will be overwhelmed by the ahhhhhh.... feeling.
Have you heard this song by Serena Ryder? I *love* it. I wish I could sing like that-all raspy and feminine at the same time. I have been singing it a lot anyway in my car with a totally adorable and completely captive audience.
Wednesday, April 29, 2009
I Am 19ish
I've already nodded off on the couch once tonight. Most normal people would take that as a sign to leave said couch and just go to bed. I, however, view this as a sign to fire up the laptop and look for some distraction on the internet. It is only 9:50 pm and that is just way too early for bed.
We were talking about bedtimes at work today and the two pharmacists with whom I share all of my days go to bed at 10:00, maybe 11:00 at the latest. Gasp! I am working with adults.
You see, I am not an actual adult. I look like one because I have children and wear sensible shoes, but I am really more of a college student. The concept that I might miss something exciting by going to bed at 10:00 is firmly rooted in my psyche. You just might have to walk around campus with a cute boy or get pizza with your sorority sisters or ride with somebody to Kinko's and talk in the rain all night long or start watching a movie you had seen a hundred times. Getting four or five hours of sleep was not only sufficient for the week, it was sustaining for the raucousness of the weekend.
That crazy schedule generally always worked to my benefit too. The ride to Kinko's and the all-night talk in the rain was thirteen years ago. Sometimes Mr. Lipstick and I still talk all night long, but thank goodness, now we have a roof over our heads.
Tonight JBB hunted for fossils again in the rock pile and Pretty Girl pranced around the yard chasing a Mickey Mouse ball. By the time they were bathed and fed and hugged and tucked into bed, I was a near zombie, but I just didn't want to surrender my day to sleep just yet. I may not be walking around campus anymore, but I was at least going to stop by Lipstick-land.
We were talking about bedtimes at work today and the two pharmacists with whom I share all of my days go to bed at 10:00, maybe 11:00 at the latest. Gasp! I am working with adults.
You see, I am not an actual adult. I look like one because I have children and wear sensible shoes, but I am really more of a college student. The concept that I might miss something exciting by going to bed at 10:00 is firmly rooted in my psyche. You just might have to walk around campus with a cute boy or get pizza with your sorority sisters or ride with somebody to Kinko's and talk in the rain all night long or start watching a movie you had seen a hundred times. Getting four or five hours of sleep was not only sufficient for the week, it was sustaining for the raucousness of the weekend.
That crazy schedule generally always worked to my benefit too. The ride to Kinko's and the all-night talk in the rain was thirteen years ago. Sometimes Mr. Lipstick and I still talk all night long, but thank goodness, now we have a roof over our heads.
Tonight JBB hunted for fossils again in the rock pile and Pretty Girl pranced around the yard chasing a Mickey Mouse ball. By the time they were bathed and fed and hugged and tucked into bed, I was a near zombie, but I just didn't want to surrender my day to sleep just yet. I may not be walking around campus anymore, but I was at least going to stop by Lipstick-land.
Sunday, April 26, 2009
Happy
Remember that Clinique fragrance "Happy"? I always liked it, but it kinda stunk on me. Not great with my body chemistry. Now Nonna is a different story. She has that enviable body chemistry that can make any fragrance smell intoxicating. Her favorites are "Georgio" and "Red" and people have literally followed her for aisles around the grocery store just to keep catching a whiff of the wonderful scent of whatever she happened to be wearing at the time. She, of course, will be mortified that I have posted this on the interwebs-just like she is mortified when people say, "ooooooh, Mrs. Nonna, you sure do smell good!"
Well, I digress. The title of Clinique's "Happy" was my segue to writing about my happy weekend, but the tangent about Nonna's perfume was just too tantalizing. Somehow it was one of those magical weekends with perfect weather and just enough time for relaxing and productivity. Our family spent lots of time together, most of it outside. Last year I had a near obsession with going to "the park." This year Mr. Lipstick is in his third year of law school and life is much more hectic. Time is more precious. Going anywhere seems like a hassle and the backyard is suddenly appealing.
This weekend we tinkered with our newly planted flowers and played with all the usual toys. We also found a little brown frog. I freaked out because I don't like frogs. They are squishy and they have that strange pulsating chin...thing. Well, before you know it, JBB and Pretty Girl were freaking out too. Then I realized that I was in the process of screwing up my kids. Here we were-in our backyard in the presence of nature (learning experience) and I was completely and utterly destroying the entire moment. So...I ran upstairs, grabbed the camera, and we started taking pictures of the little dude so they could show their friends at school. Then we watched him for the next fifteen minutes or so as he hopped across the yard and we yelled, "bye, Froggie" as he disappeared into the bushes.
JBB discovered that Mr. Lipstick's giant pile of stone (that will become a wall around the back yard) is actually a giant pile of fossils and I discovered that laying in the backyard looking up at the sky is about the most relaxing thing that one can possibly do on a Sunday afternoon. It only got better when Pretty Girl curled up with me. Everyone seemed very content and no one even said a word about "the park."
Well, I digress. The title of Clinique's "Happy" was my segue to writing about my happy weekend, but the tangent about Nonna's perfume was just too tantalizing. Somehow it was one of those magical weekends with perfect weather and just enough time for relaxing and productivity. Our family spent lots of time together, most of it outside. Last year I had a near obsession with going to "the park." This year Mr. Lipstick is in his third year of law school and life is much more hectic. Time is more precious. Going anywhere seems like a hassle and the backyard is suddenly appealing.
This weekend we tinkered with our newly planted flowers and played with all the usual toys. We also found a little brown frog. I freaked out because I don't like frogs. They are squishy and they have that strange pulsating chin...thing. Well, before you know it, JBB and Pretty Girl were freaking out too. Then I realized that I was in the process of screwing up my kids. Here we were-in our backyard in the presence of nature (learning experience) and I was completely and utterly destroying the entire moment. So...I ran upstairs, grabbed the camera, and we started taking pictures of the little dude so they could show their friends at school. Then we watched him for the next fifteen minutes or so as he hopped across the yard and we yelled, "bye, Froggie" as he disappeared into the bushes.
JBB discovered that Mr. Lipstick's giant pile of stone (that will become a wall around the back yard) is actually a giant pile of fossils and I discovered that laying in the backyard looking up at the sky is about the most relaxing thing that one can possibly do on a Sunday afternoon. It only got better when Pretty Girl curled up with me. Everyone seemed very content and no one even said a word about "the park."
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