I’m so old. (Again.)

LilZ ordered a poster for his bedroom of The Pussycat Dolls. As in…the pseudo-strippers that sing that song…loosen up my buttons, babe. I don’t know if you’ve seen the video – but LilZ downloaded it and loves it. Of course. I mean, it’s several totally hot chics dancing on chairs to a song that asks someone to help them take their clothes off. OF COURSE HE LOVES IT. Ever since he’s gotten that poster he’s had to hear me say, “What kind of mother let’s their daughters dress like that?” And, “Girls who act like that are nothing but two-bit whores.” And my personal favorite, “Those girls do not looks smart.”


I don’t know if it’s because he’s old enough now to find sexiness appealing, and that makes me want to ground him indefinitely. Or, if it’s because I now have a daughter and I fear her seeing performances like this in 10 years and thinking about acting like that. Either way, I am officially a crotchety old lady who would really like the kids to turn down their music and pull up their damn pants already.

I try to remember that the second I tell LilZ he can’t listen to, or do something, he’s going to want to that much more. Therefore, I let him listen to what he wants and try to keep an open line of communication about it. For example, whenever the song comes on I say, “Great. You’re listening to the strippers again.” Or sometimes I say, “Aren’t there any bands with girls who wear clothes that you can listen too?” Those are both great examples of conversation starters, aren’t they?

He’s lucky to have me.

You’ve heard of “photo albums” before, right?

When I was still pregnant with NikkiZ, I was trying to put together some photo albums to leave out on the coffee tables before one of our showers. Of course, by “photo album” I mean just that: Photo Album. No scrapbook. I’ve made one scrapbook and I just don’t have the patience to really stick with it. I prefer the slot-for-the-photo album. They lazy man’s scrapbook.

I have always loved photo albums, but the digital camera age has kept me from keeping them as up-to-date since printing isn’t habitual. We don’t use photo printers because; with the amount of photos we print, it is much more economical to make Wal-Mart or Target print them for us. I can get a pint of blood cheaper than I can printer ink.

Since I didn’t have a lot of recent photos in any of the albums, I sat down and essential went through every digital photo I had take in two years and sent over 100 photos to be printed at Wal-Mart. This was when they were the only store locally with the online one-hour service. (I feel like I have to justify using Wal-Mart or Target will think I cheated on him and dump me.) I put the albums together and they were a big hit at the shower.

After NikkiZ was born, I decided I needed to be more disciplined about printing pictures. I got into the habit of going through my photos at the end of every month and sending the album-worthy photos to Target to be printed. Since I have to crop the photos to a 4×6 ratio for printing (the photo labs do that for you if you don’t – but it’s an automatic process so inevitably heads get shaved or appendages get clipped) it can be a lengthy process sending in a batch of photos. A typical month had me printing 70 photos to place in our albums. That might be an overkill, but I’m nothing if not the Queen of Photo Albums. Or maybe the Queen of Overdoing It.

I also take that time to print photos up for family. My Mom and Dad check my blog and my Flickr account, but both of them appreciate The Photo. It’s like the Glass Ketchup Bottle. You just don’t see them that often anymore. I used to send them copies of pictures all of the time back of LilZ when he was a baby, back in the 35mm days, so I try to send them a batch periodically of NikkiZ too. My in-laws, who live locally, like to have copies as well since they have a few albums around the house to stick pictures in. Essentially, it is my way of contributing to our Weekly Sunday Dinner. Since I don’t do the cooking or the cleaning since it’s not my house – I bring photos. And the grand-kids. And the beer.

So, at the end of November I just never found the time to go through the photos from that month. We had gotten the d80, so we took a lot more pictures in November. We also traveled to Louisiana, so there was a huge batch of photos from that trip. I knew the total would be a lot higher, and I just never found the time to get to it. Then December came and went. I had the daunting task of going through November’s photos looming in front of me, and with Christmas and my trip to Tucson, December’s were just as intimidating. So, just like I told myself I wanted NOT to do, I let the two months stack up well into January.

I finally sat down this past weekend and went through November’s photos. It took several hours. I submitted them to be printed yesterday. Do you want to know how many I printed? 186. That’s almost an entire album to itself. I told you: Queen of Overdoing It. December’s batch isn’t quite as huge (the trip to Louisiana did us in) but it will be well over 100. After that, January should be relatively normal since there’s nothing big going on this month. But at the end of today, January is officially over. Tomorrow I will be two month’s behind again. BAH. This is exactly why I told myself to be disciplined about doing it at the end of every month, it becomes too easy to let them pile up if I get behind. Being disciplined is hard. Ask me about the untouched ice-cream cake in the freezer. That thing calls out to me all hours of the night, yet I’ve not yielded to it’s powers.

The Cocoa Puffs on the other hand…

I have a feeling I’m going to regret posting this

The last time I joked about having a crush on a teen actor (keyword being: JOKED) I got called a perv. So, I post this with no immediate commentary other than these simple points:

  • I think this move, a theater production that requires nudity, will do nothing but help Daniel Radcliff’s career and allow him to break free of the Harry Potter role when he sees it is time to do so.
  • I wish him the best of luck and hope his performance gets excellent reviews.
  • Daniel Radcliffe is a good looking young man.

I am fairly certain non of that can be misconstrued. Now that I’ve covered my bases – here is a gallery of promo photos for that stage production. There is no nudity in them, but they are suggestive and probably not the Harry Potter imagery you want to show your kids.

My newest infatuation

I just went to the Fresh Market for my lunch break to pick up one of their yummy pimento cheese sandwiches. They make the best pimento cheese EVAH. Yes, even better than yours. I’m sorry to break it to you. They put something in there, like maybe heroin, or possibly LSD, but something that totally makes me happy to be eating it. I have actually dreamt about their pimento cheese. It’s THAT GOOD.

But in general? I’m just terribly in love with place. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: The Fresh Market makes me want to be healthy. It makes me want to eat fresh veggies and fruit. It makes me want to lookup what I would do with “Freshly Ground Sage” because in the bag it is simply inspiring. I want to be the person that buys fresh herbs. And then cooks with them. I don’t even know people who do that, and I don’t even know how to pronounce most of the herbs on the rack. But dammit – I want to buy them! And use them! In something healthy.

They have nineteen trillion different variations of rice. What is the difference? I don’t know and I don’t care. I just want to try it all. And their broccoli display? Is like a work of art, stacked into the ice in a perfect little mountain of green. It’s fantastic. There are bags of pasta that say “Al Dente” and I have no idea what that means – but it looks fancy and classy and like something I totally need to buy. The pears are wearing sweaters and the cheese is freshly grated. I’ve never been a food snob in my life, but this places makes me want to be one because everything is just so damn pretty. I don’t even like steaks, but their meat department makes me drool.

I don’t know what it is with this place, but every time I go I find myself buying things I don’t know how to cook. But then – I go home – and LEARN how to cook it. Do you see how it works? The Fresh Market is turning me into the woman of my husband’s dreams. Next thing you know? I’ll be buying an avocado and making my own guacamole.

But not yet – because the Fresh Market sells the yummiest fresh guacamole. And yes, it’s better than yours too. I’m sorry.

(P.S. – Go wish Elizabeth a Happy 40th. All she wants is 40 comments and she’s almost there!)

Glad to know you all are in a funk too

It looks like everyone is feeling a little…blah…lately. Several of you mentioned that it’s the month January – which typically makes people feel crappy. I say, let’s blame it on January! I’m all for blaming my emotional problems on inanimate objects or concepts. You should see how often I yell at the couch for stealing my car keys. Or when I punish TiVo for keeping me from laundry. What has January ever done for me? Besides allow my son to be born. And my mother. And one of my best friends. But in reality? Those are not GOOD things – they should have been born in February, dammit. Who has a birthday so close to Christmas? MEAN PEOPLE, that’s who.

So – let’s blame the funk on January. We have 48 more hours of Stupid January, and then we can all feel happy and cheery again. Deal?

And until then – how about a video of NikkiZ dancing? Your wish is my command. And please disregard the loud, “Woo Hoo!” I yell towards the end. I’m totally that person who has to “Woo Hoo!” at everything. I apologize.