Who Am I?

Well, inquisitive reader, let me answer. I am a wife, a mom and I have chronic bad hair. I like made uppy words and Unnecessary Capitalization. If you know who the guy in the bottom right picture is, you're probably my best friend. Also, I own several Edward dolls which I write about HERE. No, I don't use drugs. By the way, if your love canned tomatoes, visit my stash HERE.

Friday, February 26, 2010

Keyboard Confessions

Every week I sit down and confess some things. Mostly it's just an excuse to write a list.

1. Here I thought I was going to wake up and trudge through another boring normal blah Friday. I was so wrong!

2. I mean, let me just count all the ways day is turning out to be good: a) my kids made it through our morning routine without fighting/bickering/pouting or needing spankings. It's kind of a rare occassion. I might have to celebrate. b)my coworker gave me a blueberry muffin. Kindness? Or attempt to make me fat? You decide. I'm feeling magnanimous so I'm going with kindness. c) I won a giveaway!!

3. You wanna see what I won? This beauty from Charitable Creations:

4. But I'm going to assume that mine will not have CELESTE on it. However, CELESTE is a fine name. I'll bet people can pronounce and spell CELESTE. I love the little flower. I doodle flowers all.the.time. My kitchen is in daisies. My own randomnous is making me dizzy. Also I can't fix the justification on this one lone Keyboard Confession and now it's stuck on center.

5. Speaking of daisies, I think we should bring back FLOWER POWER. Not because I think there are powers in flowers, but because there just aren't enough cool phrases that rhyme like that. Unless you and I can sit down and brainstorm some new rhyming words that are cool. Let's see, how about WEED BLEED. ROCK SPROCK. See? I suck at that. I'm sticking with FLOWER POWER. I need some caffeine, man.

6. I suspect a kidney is brewing up a conspiracy against the rest of the body. I must squash it into submission by drinking copious amounts of cranberry juice. Feel free to pity me. Because cranberry juice is nastay.

7. Mix in some cake, and maybe that cranberry juice won't taste so bad.

8. Speaking of cake, thanks to my twin, Shauna, I'm going to make this wonderful concoction this weekend: Diet Coke Cake. Did the universe just sing a sweet song of happiness? I think it did. And then it danced a jig. Which caused some tremors somewhere.

9. Wish me luck. I'm going this weekend to a retreat for the workers of our church youth group. I tend to say inappropriate things around people I don't know very well. Also, I think my colon is also in on the conspiracy. This does not bode well, people.

10. And because we live in America where I am free to do however many Keyboard Confessionals as I want, I choose to use my right and stop here. I know, I'm so patriotic.
Have a happy Friday, folks.

Thursday, February 25, 2010

It's Thursday! and other important messages from Captain Obvious

Hi!  It's me!  Today I don't look like me, I'm more reminiscent of a headless chicken, but I assure you, aside from the spurting blood and wayward feathers, it is me.

I'm uber busy today.  But I had to take a sanity break before blue pens found their way into the eyeballs of innocent passersby who I'm most certain would question why the need for blue ink in the legal world?  To which I would calmly shrug and say "Weird, I know, right?" and go about my day. 

So during my brief and much needed sanity break from the Chaotic and Complicated Business of The Law, it's time for:

and today's question brought to you by the fine ladies at Confessions From a Working Mom and The (Un)Experienced Mom is...

What are the Top 3 reasons why you blog?

Excellent question.  Let me think...*taps cheek thoughtfully*

3.  Sanity.  I've already used this word.  Three times.  Count if you don't believe me.  Sanity.  Now that's four.  Sanity sanity sanity sanity sanity sanity.  What number am I at now, huh?  ...maybe the sanity thing isn't working. 

I love blogging because, like any other normal (haha normal, me, normal hahaahahaah) persony figure, I've got all kinds of words and thoughts and junk just sort of roaming around my head like fireflies (don't you hate that song?) on a hot summer night.  They need to be released from the trap that is my mind else there will be firefly poop everywhere.  And everyone knows what they say about firefly poop. 

...actually I don't know what they say about firefly poop.

2.  Learning to write.  Yes, I am one of the myriads of blogger people who want to make it as a writer.  When I started this humble journey two years ago, it was on what is now the social outcast known as Myspace.  And it was fun, churning out crap like my Ode to Laundry and writing about the first time I used a lawnmower. And amazingly, people were saying things like "you should be a writer!".  All three of them.  I know.  I was so overwhelmed.  And so what if one of them was my mom.  Shut up.  She's got good taste, all right?  *deep breath, calming down*  So I thunk to myself one day, you know, I should just start up a blog as an experiment, just so learn how to write. 

And that's what I did.  So I write and learn.  Rinse and repeat. 

1.  I know I should say something about friendships, because it's completely obvious that I'm a total copycat and that's what everyone else is going to say.  BUT I'M NOT.  HAHA.  GOT YOU.

The comments. 

Seriously.  This is so true:


I know I'm supposed to say really zen-like stuff like I only write for me and don't need to know if people are reading yada yada blah blah but you know what?  Apart from the stylish word zen, that's really just a pile of crap.  Because I love comments.  I love to read what you think.  If you laugh.  If you sniffle.  If you are grossed out.  If you also love Janice the Muppet.  I love getting to know you fine readers through your comments.  And I'm trying super hard to comment back, so you can feel the lurve. 

Thank you Confessions and (Un)Experienced for this!  And if you want to grab the button and play along, be sure to link up your post with theirs!

Happy Thursday.

Wednesday, February 24, 2010

Gluttony, thy name is Kearsie

I love cake.

Nay, that is not strong enough. Let me amend. I ADORE WITH THE ADORATION OF A THOUSAND AND ONE SUNS cake.

I love the smell of cake.

I love the swirls and piles of frosting on top of cake.

I love pictures and blogs and bakeries full of cake.

And mostly, I love to eat cake. I want to make out with it.

Nom nom nom.

This might be how crack addicts feel about their pipe. How alcoholics feel about their Jim Beam. How coffee addicts feel when the drive by a Starbucks.


But cake, sadly, does not love me back. It's like a really bad boyfriend. It smells really good (Drakkar Noir flashback). It looks really good on the outside, but is way damaging on the inside. Full of gunk. Full of junk. It expands the trunk.

Ok, that last bit is reaching.


It's February. Two members of our household have birthdays in February. You know what that means?


Lots of cake.

Lots of lovely cake.

Lots of gorgeous, smelly good cake.

Lots of tasty, fatty, caloric, guilt-ridden cake.

This last weekend I ate nine pieces of cake.

This last weekend I ate a few too many pieces of cake.

I can practically hear my skin expanding as new pockets of cellulite multiply on my thighs. My stomach is like communal living to fat deposits. My face is developing that lovely cherub-like pudgy cheek thing. My ellipitcal scoffs when I walk by and mutters "just keep on going, fatty, I can't help you". My poor clothing groans when I open the drawer. All because of cake.

I know what you're thinking, because I'm 75% psychic. You're thinking "well just say no! Crack is whack!" and whilst you would be ever so right that crack is indeed whack, I have no NO button when it comes to cake. Nay. I only have the PLEASE SIR CAN I HAVE SOME MORE button. Next to it is the ARE YOU GOING TO FINISH THAT button which rests nicely next to the WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU DON'T LIKE FROSTING, GIVE IT HERE button. There's no room for a NO button on my panel of buttons.

When I was a kid, we lived near my aunt who made all kinds of lovely cakes. And at the tender age of 13, I discovered something. I discovered I was REALLY REALLY GOOD at sneaking cake. Would you like to learn my secret method of thievery? Here it is, you ready? Cut veeerrrryyy thin slivers of cake instead of huge gaping squares. There. I know, so simple. You're practically sitting there with slack jaws and wide eyes at my geniusy maneuvers. What can I say?

So. In the face of all this cake, I was like a coffee addict let loose in a new Starbucks with no line. I was out.of.control. I had to take matters into my own hands else I would go hog wild and eat the whole thing whilst my family looked on in horror. So I threw the rest away in the garbage whilst quietly humming TAPS and muttering a fitting eulogy. I wore black today in mourning.

Tell me, fair reader, because misery loves company, what is your drug of choice? Are you gluttoneous about anything?

Monday, February 22, 2010

A sappy recount of the birth of my baby

It was a quiet night, when suddenly I was awake, gripping my bulging belly.

“I think I’m in labor!” I cried to Lance. I glanced at the clock. A red 3:30 glared at me. I laboriously made my way out of the bed to the phone and called the hospital.

“What do I do?” I asked the nurse. “I’ve never been in natural labor.” I listened to her advice and after thanking her, I hung up. Turning to Lance I repeated what she said.

“I should take some Tylenol and a bath, but since I hate baths I think I’ll take a shower and then I’m going to do the dishes and vacuum the floor.” Lance blinked groggily at me.

“You’re going to what?”

“Shower, dishes, floor.” I was determined as all psycho nesting mothers are.

So after a shower, I washed the dishes and Lance vaccuumed the floor. We sat and timed my contractions. They were only 8 minutes apart, but the pain was getting worse.

Lance called his parents around 5:00 a.m. “You’d better come on, it looks like the baby will be here soon.”

Lance convinced me to lay down again, assuring me the house was clean enough for company. I managed to nap between contractions but the pain was so intense that I had to get up on my hands and knees and breathe through the contractions. My main fear was not getting an epidural.

I convinced Lance to call a lady in our church to come over and stay with my daughter, Emma, so we could go to the hospital. The pain was now taking my breath away. That epidural was my prize now. Sally, a church member, arrived at 7:15 and after showing her Emma’s clothes, breakfast and other pertinent items, we made our way to the car.

I had fancied a Bojangles biscuit before heading to the hospital, but the four times I had to stop my tour of the kitchen with Sally to get on my hands and knees and breathe convinced me to head to the hospital NOW.

We made our way to the delivery ward with me in a wheelchair and my pillow, suitcase and video camera all perched precariously next to my bulging belly contracting all the while. Passing by the Admitting desk, the clerk took one look at me and said, “Go on, honey. Daddy can come back down and fill out the paperwork.” I grunted out a thanks and we were off again.

We made it up to the tiny labor ward and the two nurses sighed as they saw us. Apparently, there were four other women in labor and only the two of them. I glanced at my watch. 7:30 a.m. Lance went to finish my admittance paperwork while I slowly got undressed and put on the sexy gown the nurse handed me. I think I asked her at least four times if I could have an epidural now, please. She called my doctor as the other nurse checked my dilation. I was now dilated 5 centimeters. The nurse on the phone said my doctor was on his way, and that the blessed anesthesiologist was also on his way, that he would be here within the hour. It was now 8:00 and Lance hurriedly rushed into the room. I will never ever ever forget the expression on his face as the nurses checked me again and said, “We have no time for an epidural because you are a 10 and you need to push.”

I vaguely remember crying, because the idea of natural labor terrified me. I had never prepared for that, never wanted that, didn’t take the stupid classes that taught me how to breathe. This was just all wrong.

The meaner of the two nurses approached me and got right in my face. She told me that she was going to help me bring this baby into the world and would tell me what to do. I think I apologized for the way my breath smelled, I can’t quite remember. But I do know that she was mean and bossy enough to tell me when to breathe and as she was being mean and bossy, the other nurse was getting the room ready for our little girl. We kept glancing at the door, hoping my doctor was going to be there, but it was just us.

Suddenly I felt, horror of horrors, that I was going to poop on myself, the fear of all laboring women. I said, “Um, I think something’s happening…” and suddenly I felt the hot splash of my water breaking.

The next moment, I felt the need to push like never before. My child’s head shot out and the nurses were shouting to me to NOT push. I remember asking, “HOW THE HECK DO YOU NOT PUSH?!” They said, “Pant like a dog!” So I panted like a dog. I do remember glancing up at Lance who had his mouth hanging open and eyes as big as saucers and shouting “DO SOMETHING!” Poor Lance.

I looked up at that ceiling and panted like a dog. Occasionally animal sounds came out of my mouth and I just HAD to push, ya’ll ladies know. Finally after this went on FOREVER the nurse said, “Ok, you can push.” And my doctor walked in.

One push later, a squirming, icky baby emerged, much to my relief.

It was 8:32 a.m. and my sweet Adelyn had just breathed for the first time.

She was a honkin huge baby. 8 lbs 11 ozs. 21 inches long. All natural, not one bit of drugs, not counting the Tylenol from the dingbat nurse who told me that would help.

Addie is now four today. She is the funniest, blondest, wiriest, sweetest, most ornery kid there is. She can make you laugh, make you pull your hair out, make you sit and cuddle with her and try to mentally burn in the moments when she wraps her arms around your neck and squeezes.

This morning she got out of bed, padded her way across the room to me and tugged on my shirt. “Mama, is it my birthday?” she asked in her raspy morning voice.

I scooped her up, squeezed her tight and said “Yes.”


I wrote this post two years ago, the day Addie turned four.  She was this skinny little wiry thing with her thumb in her mouth and twirling her hair.

And now she's six.  Six going on 26.  Tall and willowy.  Blond haired and blue eyed.  She looks not a lick like me.  If I wasn't there when she was born, I'd think they switched babies on me.
She’s got a wicked sense of humor. She’ll cut a joke and look at you out of the corner of her eye with a grin, just waiting to see if you got it. 

Addie doesn’t walk. She skips.  Everywhere and everyday.

I pray that my child will bring joy to people. That as she skips into the room, states something completely obvious, “You have blue hair. Are you really old?”, that the subject in question will stoop down to her level and pick up some of the life that radiates from Addie.

So happy birthday, Sweet Pea.

Monday is a royal pain

Will it be bad of me to eat two cupcakes today?  Nom nom nom.

- Things the Queen would never say

Friday, February 19, 2010

Keyboard Confessions

Every week I sit down and confess some things.  Mostly it's just an excuse to write a list.

1.  I was so hungry this morning that I succumbed to the temptation of a hot breakfast at the diner next door.  I ordered two scrambled eggs and two slices of bacon.  It was $3.00.  It occurs to me after the fact that I could've paid $3 for a whole dozen eggs at the store. 

2.  This is a bit like when I go to a gas station and buy a 20 oz. Diet Coke for something like $1.39.  Highway robbery considering I could've paid the same amount for a two-liter. 

3.  Oh no.  I'm turning into one of those people.  Those people who complain about how much they paid for stuff. 

4.  We had Valentine's Day candy in our house.  It was a gateway drug to birthday cake.  I am now back where I was at Christmas.

5.  Curse you, Valentine's Day themed chocolates.

6.  Almost everyday I wear some copper earrings. Now my earholes are green.  I'm kind of scared about this.

7.  Also, I'm pretty sure I'm turning into a hippie.  Guess how I know this.  Ok, I'll just tell you.  Because I'm about to order a bracelet from this site for arthritis.  At least I'll be semi-stylish.

8.  To grow my hair out or cut it short.  That is the question.

9.  Also, my Hubs is disgusted with me over angst over my hair. 

10.  Confession- I don't know how to use mousse without having ultra crusty hair which breaks up when I run my hands through my hair which then makes me look like I painted my hair with dandruff.  I just said hair three times in that sentence. 

11.  Do you remember as a kid looking through a magazine or watching a TV show or movie and telling your friend "I'm her"?  My kids do this all.the.time.

12.  If that were really true, then I would have a household of Miley Cyrus, iCarly and Cinderellas. 

13.  Who would I be?  Hmm.  In honor of my buddy, Jim, I would be this cool girl:

14.  Except, I wouldn't run around with a nail in my shoe or get shot and die in every episode and I might consider wearing something that covered my midriff.  But that's just me.  I'm pretty practical, you know.

15.  Or maybe I'd be this girl:

16.  Janice from the Muppets.  It could totally happen.


18.  One of these Keyboard Confessions is not like the others, one of these Keyboard Confessions just doesn't belong, can you tell which Keyboard Confession is not like the others by the time I finish my song? 

19.  Oh my stars I need a vacation.

20.  *burp*  'Scuse me.  Eggs make me burp.

Happy Friday, my friends.

Thursday, February 18, 2010

Meow, and Top Three Thursday

Just give me a bowl of milk and some catnip, because I am one big fat copycat.  This is Top Three Thursday, where every Thursday the fine ladies at Confessions of a Working Mom, The (Un)Experienced Mom and Much More Than Mommy are listing their Top Three.  And now I'm joining in the fun, too!  Meow.

Today's question is:

What are your top 3 favorite TV shows?

This is a toughie.  I've already talked about my love for LOST here and here.  But I want to talk about some other TV shows, just for something new.  So here goes...

Glee.  So much fun!  If you like musicals and dancing and teenage angst and that sort of thing.  Also, it's my goal in life to be doing something ultra boring and menial and to just ... burst into song!  Maybe one day at Walmart I shall do this whilst choosing a tartar control toothpaste.  You never know, I could be the next person on youtube.   

The Office.  Oh how I love The Office.  If you've not yet jumped on this bandwagon, you ought to be slapped a little.  Just a little.  And if you're an anglophile like me, you soooo need to check out the BBC version of The Office.  Oh how I heart Ricky Gervais.

and finally...

Community.  Seriously, my favorite show on TV.  And why couldn't my college experience be this much fun?  Probably because it wasn't a community college and probably because I wasn't on a TV show.  Alas.

So there you have it!

I must go curl up and purr now.

Wednesday, February 17, 2010

Taking a break, wearing jammies and Nick Jonas, or what I did on my weekend

I tell you what, you use the words "I unplugged for the weekend" and you're going to get all kinds of responses.

There's the gasp:  *GASP*  I could never do that!

There's the grim look of despair:  *Grim look and a nod* (Translation:  that's just what I need to do.)

There's the grunt:  *Grunt.* (Translation:  Dude, who cares?)

See, here's what happened.  My kids were out of school for two days and as I've pestered my inlaws to babysit so many bazillion times I figured I would cut everyone a big break and just take some vacation days and stay home with them.  Then we were out for Presidents Day.  That means I spend a grand total of 5 days at home.  With my kids. 

Now, some of you precious readers are stay at home moms.  So you're reading this going, dude, this is old hat for me, what's the big deal? 

And some of you precious readers are working moms.  And you're going, please God let me have a break from work before I stab someone in the eyeball.

I know.  Because that was me.  All prepared to stab someone in the eyeball. 

When you're a working mom, a whole lot gets sacrificed.  Your time is given away to some nameless, thankless workplace that tends to suck the joy and life from the very marrow of your bones. I think I understand why people drink.  They're trying to replenish all that joy and life from their dry marrow.  I myself am not a drinker.  And Diet Coke just isn't cutting it. Neither are the Reese's Cups. 

Your vision of how you want your life to look is sacrificed.  It morphs instead to just surviving. 

And for me, my energy to engage with my kids is sacrificed.  Because when I finally get home and am faced with my kids, I am tired.  I've not been running a marathon all day, but mentally, my brain is pudding.  There's not a lot left to offer.

So.  A break was just what I needed. 

There's only one problem.  See, I live on this farm.  Throw a rock and you'll hit a cow or a horse or some kid learning to ride a horse or some kid herding a cow or a pile of manure from the animal variety.  A farm.  And our little abode doesn't get innernets.  The only window to the online world is through our iPhones (iPreciouses).  Except, using an iPhone to do normal typey type activities online is akin to using a calculator to write a dissertation.  It's way hard.  It's exhausting. 


I chose to ditch it all.  I managed to throw a crappy blog together in 3 minutes flat whilst waiting for my Hubs in the Apple store on Friday.  And then I managed to pump out a little sumpin on Monday riddled with enough HTML to make me cuss a storm. 

And that was it.  I broke that annoying tether to a machine that I was convinced held all kinds of importance.  I wasn't running to my yahoo to see who was online to chat with.  I wasn't running to the Twitters, to attempt a witty awesome to die for 140 character statement.  I wasn't trying to come up with snappy statuses for Facebook. 

I just took a break. 

I read.  I read a lot.  I watched random movies with my kids.  I washed loads of laundry.  I let my brain rest. 

It was nice. 

And you know what I discovered?  I discovered:

1.  Jammies really are comfy for day wear.

2.  Nick Jonas is kind of a cutie.  Curse you, Disney channel and inane movies like Camp Rock.  Curse you.

3.  Books are my crack.

4.  I won't cry when I leave this job.

5.  My kids make me want to drink sometimes. 

6.  I really needed this break.

7.  I only think in lists, apparently.

8.  I feel all zen-like and full of peacenessosity.

9.  Weird that this was the way I lived not even ten years ago.

10.  I can live without a computer.

So.  My question, you few and faithfully readers, would you consider taking a break from it all?  How would you let your brain rest?

Tuesday, February 16, 2010

Post It Tuesday

It's that time again. Time for me to use my Twitter skills and speak truths and funnies on Post Its. Also, I might need a new hobby.

Monday, February 15, 2010

Monday is a royal pain

Boy, I sure am glad I'm American so I get President's Day off.

-Things the Queen would never say.

Friday, February 12, 2010

Keyboard Confessions, the rushed edition

So every week I sit down and confess some things.  Mostly this is just an excuse to write a list.

1.  I'm writing this post whilst sitting in the Apple Store.

2.  The Hubs and I are going on a date.  To see The Lightning Thief.

3.  Awesome book.  I'm betting also an awesome movie.

4.  My kids are staying the night with my inlaws.

5.  For a second, I wondered if we could slip out of state for the night.

6.  But then I'd have to gas the car and do some laundry and I'm just not that motivated.

7.  I'm so thirsty I am dreaming of a giant Diet Coke.

8.  I wonder if the Hubs will be super nice and buy me Twizzlers?

9.  Also, I wonder if we'll be the only adults seeing The Lightning Thief?

10.  Awesome book.  Did I mention that already?

11.  No I'm not repeating myself to use up list spaces.  That would be super lame of me.

12.  I used the flat iron on my hair.  And then used some kind of super-straightening, super-fancy, super-sticky hair tonic/gel/solution thingy to make it smoooooth.

13.  Alas, despite the magic tonic smoother straightener thingy, there are all kinds of wispies sticking out everywhere.  It sort of looks like I stuck my finger in an electric socket.

14.  And I'm wearing a bright red shirt under my lime green jacket.

15.  What I'm trying to say is that I don't really look that glamorous for this date.

16.  It is freeeeezing outside.

17.  Ack!  Have to go.

18.  Happy Friday.

19.  And other list space using words.

Wednesday, February 10, 2010

I Love Ewe Giveaway Winner!

Congratulations to Alisha L. who is the winner of the I Love Ewe soap giveaway from Sheepy Hollow!

Alisha L., I'll email you the results of the giveaway and you'll have 48 hours to respond back to me.  Congrats again!

And thank you, Sheepy Hollow, for being a part of this giveaway!!

Tuesday, February 9, 2010

Post It Tuesday

Genius!  I love Post-its.  I use them a lot.  Important dates, book titles I need to check out at the library, random phone numbers, the essential ingredient I need for some random dish...they are all around me.  So why not use them on my blog?

So here goes:

So far, so good I think.  Let's write some letters.

 And now, ever practical, this is what I need at the store. 

Post-It Tuesdays.  It's a good thing.

Monday, February 8, 2010

Monday is a royal pain

If you don't cut that out, I'll knock you into next Tuesday.
-Things the Queen would never say

Friday, February 5, 2010

Keyboard Confessions: the rainy edition

Every week I sit down and confess some things.  Mostly it's just an excuse to write a list.

1.  It's raining.  This isn't a confession.

2.  I hate the rain.  It makes me want to lay in bed and read all day.  This is also not a confession.  This is called "Kearsie's Saturdays".

3.  I plotted ways to take today off so I could have Saturday on Friday.  This is a confession.

4.  I am so dehydrated now that I'm fairly certain my skin is molting.  I wake up everyday scratching my neck and face off.

5.  It's not hickeys.  I promise.  It was itchies.

6.  I just had to go venture out in the rain to walk to the Courthouse.  The rain has morphed from regular rain into feeling like someone is spitting on you.

7.  You know what?  I just realized I hardly ever actually confess anything on these here confessions.

8.  It should be changed to Keyboard Nonsensical Lists.

9.  You know it's a bad day all around when someone greets you with "Hang on, I gotta use my PMS cream".

10.  Also, I wonder where I can get some PMS cream?

11.  I suspect I don't even know what a real confession is.  How about this?  I blew really hard out of my nose and a booger shot out and then I lost track of it and when it found it, it had turned into cement.

12.  See?  No one wants to hear that crap.  I'm going back to nonsensical data.

13.  Like, I bought some new razors so now it doesn't feel like I'm shaving with a butterknife.  I think the last razor I bought was back in July.

14.  Or, I suspect a load of laundry has been in the washing machine since Tuesday.

15.  Or even better, I have this casserole dish that is such a pain to put away I've just been chucking it in the oven for safekeeping.

16.  This might not be nonsensical data, just a list of ways in which I'm lazy.

17.  Wait, but see, I'm sort of confessing how I'm lazy...

18.  Well, whaddya know.  This is a list of confessions after all.  Just sort of like, you have to figure out the confession yourself. 

19.  Sorry, it's Friday and here I am making you read and think. 

20.  Maybe next week will be Keyboard Confessions: the PMS cream works edition.  I wish I knew where to find that cream...

Happy Rainy Friday.

Wednesday, February 3, 2010

Preparing for post LOST blues

If you're one of the 963,103,736,153 people last night to watch last, then this post is for you, my friend.  Also, I totes made up that number.  But I was one of them, whatever the number may be.

It's here, folks, the sixth and final season of LOST.  No more island.  No more confusing endings.  No more dirty, sweaty, shirtless men and women with perfecty makeup despite intense heat and no showers.  And hopefully we will finally *crossing fingers* get our questions answered like:

1. What in the $#%% is going on? 
2. What happened to the timeline?
3. Is that guy Esau?
4. What in the @$%# is going on?

I dread it already.  I dread the last episode.  I dread the emptiness that shall soon follow.  I dread the void of a great show.  I dread the lack of water cooler talk at work about if the island represents heaven, hell, Walmart, etc.

I've always sufferred from post holiday/post vacation/post (insert good thing) blues.  I've always hated January.  Because it means the end of Christmas. I hate the week after vacation.  Because it means all that fun in the (insert sun, mountains, theme park) is over.  And my life will go back to copious amounts of laundry.  And I already hate the end of LOST.  Because there's nothing good on TV during the summer. Not even old episodes of Charlies Angels. 

LOST!  What have you done to my life?!

*future depressed*

Monday, February 1, 2010

If you feel lovey dovey and dirty, then this giveaway is for you!

It's here, folks, the month of Lurve.  The one time of the year we set aside to show our joy and devotion of our spouses, children, friends, extended family, second cousins twice removed, the neighbor whose dog poops on your lawn, the gossipy coworker, etc. 

Yes.  It's Valentine's Day Month.

So I thought it would be swell to have a giveaway just for this joyous occassion! 

Ladies and Gentlemen, boys and girls, cats and dogs and cartoon people of the world, it is my great priviledge to introduce you to my newest etsy friend Jenny at Sheepy Hollow, who makes the coolest items using fiber from the sheep raised on her land.  Jenny's a true genius at what she does!  And she has graciously offerred to giveaway this awesome felted soap called I Love Ewe:

Inside this beauty is a lavender scented bar of soap using lavender she raised on her land.  The felted pouch is reusable once the bar is exhausted, just make a slit on the end, insert a new bar of soap and voila!  Just like new!  The felted wool on the outside provides a gentle exfoliation and is soft to your skin. 

This is an amazing bar of soap, my friends!  Just the perfect gift for that special someone you want to say "I'm thinking lovey dovey and dirty thoughts about you". 

So, to win the I Love Ewe bar of soap, here are the rules of entry:

1. Head over to Sheepy Hollow and peruse her awesome products.  She makes anything from baby booties to felted wool bowls.  Leave in the comment the item you like best.

2.  Please make sure you leave me a safe way to contact you.  Email works best. 

If your comment does not contain these two things, I shall have to delete.  Because that's the rules.  But I shall cry as I delete because I really want you to have the I Love Ewe! 

I shall pick the winner via Random Numbers Generator on February 10th, 2010 at 12:00 p.m. CST. 

And if you'd like to know more about Jenny and her sheep, visit her online journal!  Good luck!

While you're at it, why don't you enter two more giveaways for Valentine's soaps?  Head to Insanity Kim and Much More Than Mommy and enter to win!
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