Traditionally Retro

Origami Christmas Tree

2011-11-13T15:45:00.001-05:00

For the first time ever, I've started making my Christmas cards earlier than December 20th. I wanted my cards to be quick & easy... but way cool & retro in design.

Since I found the tutorial for these cards on Stamping Videos, I can't take the credit for the idea. But I can take the credit for making them suit my personal style.

Hello Retro!

Now because I'm inherently lazy, I made a trip to Michael's and purchased a package of Recollections blank cards & envelopes. The size I used for these cards is 4" x 5-1/2".

For the outer frame of the card, cut a piece of paper into a 5-1/4" x 3-3/4" rectangle. And for the tree you'll need to cut four squares at 3", 2-1/2", 2", and 1-1/2". For my card, the two papers I used are from Anna Griffen and KI Memories.

Next, using my Cuttlebug and a Spellbinders Nestabilities die, I cut an oval into the center of the rectangle. Affix this framework to the front of your card.

Take the 3" square of paper and fold it in half. Open and fold the paper in half again, in the opposite direction.

Open the square up again and this time, fold the paper into a triangle... corner to corner. Open again and repeat the process in the opposite direction.

Now that you have all the creases in place, fold the square in half again and push in the two sides to form a triangle.

Next fold each of the triangle's "wings" down as shown:

This is what you should end up with.

Repeat the same process for the other three squares.

Now it's as simple as using your glue dots and nesting the sections of tree on the front of the card. Top the tree off with brads, bling or buttons. For my card I used a Fancy Pants rub-on.

And you're done! Super easy, huh?

Oh... one more thing. Don't worry about how these cards will mail. As shown below, they'll lay completely flat within the envelope.

Woman vs Food

2011-10-09T07:30:00.002-04:00

Remember back in Juvember when I started my "Paula's Visit" recap? Yeah... me neither. So to refresh your memory, day 1 included giant cement corn, Chief Leatherlips and dancing bunnies. Day 2 was a really full day, so I opted to break it into two segments, the first of which involved our spending an afternoon in the slammer.

Cool? Good. Now that we're all caught up, let's continue.

If you're familiar with Travel Channel's Man vs Food, you may remember the segment he did on Columbus' very own Thurman Cafe... home of the best burgers in Columbus.

Thurman's is nothing more than a little hole-in-the wall restaurant with no convenient parking (street side only and had to walk several blocks to gain access), an extremely long wait to be seated, and something I'd, admittedly, drive right past if not for having had tons of previous recommendations.

They seated us at the bar, which enabled us to see every burger as it made its entrance from the kitchen. Wow. There are no words for the size of the burgers that passed us. Just wow. After studying the menu we finally made our selections. Paula opted for the classic Thurman burger (I had to talk her down from the Thurmanator), and I chose the bacon burger. Hello! Bacon! Paula's Thurman burger is the one pictured on the right, below.

Consider this my official Thurman's Cafe endorsement. I have NEVER had a better burger. Hands down. Best burger I've ever eaten. And from the size of my double chin in the photo below, it's very clear I've consumed a lot of burgers in my day.

She ate the whole thing! How is that possible?! Paula woofed down that entire burger in record time!

It was such an impressive feat that the woman sitting next to us actually shook Paula's hand and commented upon how much she'd enjoyed the show. In addition to watching Paula inhale the burger, apparently there were so many sparks flying off her utensils, it made for a dazzling light spectacle.

After paying our bill (Really affordable! Both burgers less than $10!), we waddled back to the car (remember... several blocks away) and plopped ourselves into our seats. There may, or may not, have been some bodily noises along the way from each of us. Wow. That was good eatin'. But as we settled in, Paula made her Woman vs Food victory sign. Food 0. Woman 1.

Sorry it took me so long to continue the recap. It takes a lot of time and effort to make a Julie-shaped butt imprint on the couch cushion. These things just don't happen overnight. Very much the same way great friendships don't happen overnight. So yeah. Paula is the butt print to my cushion. No. Paula is the cushion to my butt print? Paula's the butt? Any which way, her friendship's left a permanent imprint.

Be sure to return for Day 3 of Paula's visit. No, seriously... it'll be posted soon!

We interrupt the previously scheduled blog post...

2011-09-03T15:00:00.000-04:00

... for a very important message.

Susan Goetter and Delaina Burns are awesome.

I, fortunately, am also awesome.

And since we can no longer gather in one location to touch our rings together in such a manner as to create a super surge of awesomeness, we've decided to use our powers for scrapping.

Dressed in spandex, tights and a cape, Susan spent hours on her couch, surfing the Internet for this month's super sketch.

We wish to thank Sketch Support for their sketch. We also wish to thank them for not pointing out that Susan had a giant food stain on her chest, instead of a giant "S".

Since we're in the whole "back to school" season, I flipped my cape over my shoulder, jumped dramatically into my scrap room and pulled out some school-themed papers and embellishments. Once I'd removed my tights-wedgie, I also pulled out my high school senior photo.

"Beer is good, sex is heaven, we're the class of '87..."

Would it surprise you any to learn that our class song was Mony Mony by Billy Idol?

If only my seventeen year old self, the one who dreamed of being a super successful journalist, living the fashionable single gal's dream life in NYC, knew that in 25 years her only writing outlet would be a scrapbooking blog which she types from her broken down couch in Delaware, Ohio, and that her fashionable wardrobe would contain a lot of stretchy separates, sensible shoes and cardigans coated with cat fur.

Super Awesome Julie says, "Stay in school, kids."

Lucky for you mere mortals, one of Super Awesome Julie's superpowers is the ability to hyperlink.

Super Awesome Susan's Blog and Super Awesome Delaina's Blog.

And since her other superpower is the ability to suggest ear worms...

A Visit From Paula (day 2)

2011-07-21T17:33:00.012-04:00

The sun rises on day 2, and we make the short road trip up to Mansfied. More precisely, the Ohio State Reformatory.

Constructed in 1834, through the years, the prisoners (some with notoriety), experienced fire, death, disease, murder, riots and movie productions... one of the most notable being Shawshank Redemption.

If you're so inclined, here's a wonderful link to some of the history of the prison.

Mansfield Reformatory's History

But for us, the prison's biggest draw is that it's supposedly very haunted. We are so there! It's been featured on Travel Channel's "Scariest Places on Earth" and the reason for our visit today, Ghost Adventures!

We start off in the Warden's Quarters, taking our time and exploring all the rooms.

We take a moment to leave our mark in history... or on dirty glass.

And then things get interesting. Unbeknownst to me at the time, I ended up catching one of the most controversial photos of our trip. Using the macros setting on my camera, I was attempting to get an artsy fartsy shot of a bullet hole in a 2nd story window. I'm 100% positive I was alone in this particular hallway when I took the following photo:

Take a closer look. Click on the image to enlarge, if you must.

Seriously. What the heck?!

We have tried and tried to figure out how this image was captured. I was standing very close to the bullet hole, holding my camera in front of me with both hands. The camera was on the macros setting. Now I was wearing a black shirt that day, so common sense should tell us that I'm the monkey dude. But how could my reflection be there if I'm blocking the hole with my camera... and BOTH my hands are holding it? And who the heck is the headless dude?!

As I stated, neither of us had any idea at the time that I'd captured such an image so we went on with our adventure. An adventure which included Paula creating faux scratches on her back. If you're a fan of all the ghost hunting shows, as we are, you'll notice a trend of everyone, and their grandma, discovering three "mystery" scratches somewhere on their body. So we staged the following photo:

The granny panties add a touch of klass and believability, don'tcha think?

The obligatory cell block shot:

And self portrait:

Then we moved into Solitary Confinement. And it's here that we had an "incident". Since we were visiting the prison on a weekday, all of the tours were self-guided and there weren't a lot of people milling about. As a result, we were alone in solitary. (chuckle... alone... solitary) Anyways, the 2nd story of solitary was roped off and all the lights up there were dark. But we could clearly hear someone or something moving about, knocking and what, we think, may have been a door closing. This is Paula peeking up the stairs at the noise and whispering, "Helllllooo".

After spending the better half of the day exploring every un-roped-off inch of the prison, and its supposed hauntings, we were exhausted!

And we'd worked up a Man vs Food kind of appetite!

Come back soon and read the next installment of our adventure, Paula vs Food.

A Visit From Paula

2011-07-17T09:16:00.014-04:00

One of the few drawbacks of my moving from Florida to Ohio has been the fact that I had to leave my best friend, Paula, behind. Barely a week went by that Paula and I weren't out wreaking havoc somewhere, on something... or someone. This blog has become a great outlet for recapping many of our previous adventures together, such as:

Haunted Hotel & Pigeon Pick-Up Artist
Wild Horses, Azz Spurs and Deathly Dunes
Hoof Prints & Speed Bumps
The Mystery of the Empty Candy Wrappers
Trailer Park Chic
Beach Chair Water Ballet
Turtles, Gators & Naked Ed... oh my!
Trash Talkin' Plants and Bottle Trees

The greatest thing about a best friend is the fact that they'll always be just that. A few weeks ago, Paula traveled over 900 miles in order to spend 4 fun-filled days with me. She's awesome... that's why she's the best!

Here's the rundown of what we managed to squeeze in during her visit:

After catching up over a yummy (did I really just say yummy?) dinner at Hoggy's, we made a brief stop by Dublin, Ohio's infamous field of cement corn. I'm VERY intrigued by this "art" display and, I'll admit, the first time I ever passed it, I knew Dublin would become my home.

Even though Paula appeared to have a corncob stuck up her azz, we paid a visit to Chief Leatherlips... because who wouldn't wanna go see someone named Leatherlips?!

And to round out our evening of visiting Dublin's roadside oddities, we hopped over to Ballantrae Park to watch the Dancing Hares boogie off into the sunset.

Since we were running out of daylight and one of our favorite television shows was running back-to-back episodes, we decided to return to my apartment, watch drunken frat boys ghost hunt, remove Paula's corncob, and rest up for our next day's adventures... which just happened to include a few ghosts!

(to be continued)

Cross Country Scrapping

2011-06-20T19:37:00.007-04:00

As much as I love living in Ohio, I have to admit that I miss my southern scrap buddies, Susan Goetter and Delaina Burns. Once every few months, we'd coordinate our schedules and meet up for an entire weekend at Susan's house in Pensacola. I'd drive the 5 hrs from Gainesville and Delaina would travel about the same distance from her home in Alabama.

These weekends were always full of shopping, sugar, gossip, giggling, chatter and if we could squeeze it in, we'd sometimes actually scrap. This photo is from our last weekend together, March 2010, and is the result of too much sugar and not enough sleep.

There has been discussion of my flying into Alabama in the near future. But somehow we'll need to persuade Susan to make the 5 hour drive north for my visit. In theory, it seems a solid plan and should be easy to execute. To get my point across, let's just say that Susan and Delaina are dogs. Delaina is one of those little yippee, ankle-biter type dogs that get really excited and tinkle all over the carpet. Susan, in contrast, is one of those ol' coon dogs that lays around in the shade all day. Doesn't budge. When someone calls her name, she'll half-open one eye to see who's beckoning and then decide if it's worth rousting herself.

So me and the ankle-biter are trying to roust her...

... with a cross country sketch challenge.

The idea is to keep the three of us scrapping together (if only virtually) until we can put our travel plans into action. So every few weeks, we're doing a challenge where each of us creates a layout in our own personal style, using the exact same sketch. This time we chose to use this design from Sketch Support. Even though it's a card sketch, we all felt it would make for a great layout.

And here's my take on the sketch:

Ya know... had I known that I'd be doing the whole dog analogy above, I would have chosen different papers. Non-willingness to budge and tinkle stained carpets aside, I do love these girls!

Be sure to visit their respective blogs to see what they've created for our challenge.

Dear Photograph

2011-06-20T18:50:00.010-04:00

I love this blog. The concept is amazing and needs to be shared.
Take a picture of a picture from the past in the present.

Dear Photograph

Photo Scavenger Hunt

2011-06-12T18:58:00.008-04:00

One cannot survive on cat photos alone.

One has tried.

One fears she is in danger of becoming crazy cat lady and has, therefore, made the decision to join a Photo Scavenger Hunt group.

Each month there is a random listing of 25 items to photograph. The idea is to be creative, become more familiar with your camera and, of course, to become a better photographer in the process. There are also rules in place such as, "If you break any laws at any time during any portion of the scavenger hunt, you and/or your team will be disqualified. This includes, but is not limited to, moving violations, trespassing, shoplifting, assault, bribery."

Jiminy Crikes! Photographers are a tough bunch.

Perhaps becoming a crazy cat lady isn't such a bad thing.

No. No! I'm tough! I once let my cat's litter box go an entire week without scooping it. I can do this!

Another rule is that participants aren't allowed to Photo Shop or edit their images in any manner, other than a simple crop. Hold me.

This is the list for the month of June:

1. Abandoned building or structure
2. Celebrity or famous persons grave
3. Grave of someone who died over 100 years ago
4. Musical Instrument
5. Something rusty
6. View from inside mass transit system (bus, cab, train, etc.)
7. Graffiti
8. Something in a body of water
9. Books
10. Something yellow
11. Windmill
12. Swings or swing set
13. Something with feathers
14. Someone performing
15. Self portrait (did I mention the "No Photo Shop" rule?)
16. Animal
17. Flowers
18. Reflection
19. Something with repetition
20. Something unusual or unique on a co-workers desk
21. Stormy sky
22. Empty bottle
23. Technology
24. Horizontal lines
25. Bad habit

Well, I've brushed the cat fur from my camera and I've started the hunt. So that you can all follow along with me on my photo quest, I've started an album on Photo Bucket for my images.

Signing off to take a photo of item #16. Hmmm... whatever shall it be?

Apparently, there is a Cricut Expression...

2011-06-05T18:21:00.008-04:00

So it appears the ALWAYS fabulous Nikki Sivils has been working her pretty little self ragged in order to pull off a cross promotion with the also ALWAYS fabulous Provo Craft. And, boy howdy, did they cross promote the heck out of their fabulous selves!

I am amazed and somewhat speechless (I know, right??!) at Provo Craft's generosity. Thank you so much! I can't wait to rip into everything and start playing.

See that Cricut dude on the side of the box with the silly little expression?

Yeah... that's what I now call the Cricut Expression. It pretty much looks like this:

Obligatory Valentine Post

2011-02-14T14:00:00.010-05:00

Ugh. It's Valentine's Day again. And as many of you may recall from past posts, I'm not a huge fan of the day. But at least February 15th brings the promise of half- off chocolate and Valentine inspired argyle knee socks in the clearance section at Target. So yeah, there's that.

Since everyone is in a lubby-dubby frame of mind today (shoot me), I figured it would be a good time to share a few layouts I made while I was clearly operating under the influence of clearance Christmas candy.

This is my nephew and his first girlfriend. As sweet as it is (Awwww...), it's a very strange thing to witness. Whenever I'm around them, I feel like Jane Goodall observing the primates and their mating rituals. I've never seen them speak, but instead they'll text while sitting right next to one another. If they feel safe, and no one is watching, they'll hold each others sweaty hands. Already establishing her dominance, the girlfriend dictates where they go, what they do and which other primates they hang out with. The nephew just drags his knuckles as he follows behind.

And then we come to me and my loser behind. Two time loser behind. Yep. I don't think many of you knew that. Well now ya do. Journaling reads, "2 Time Loser at Love! But I'm okay with that. I've walked away from these relationships as a stronger, happier, better version of myself. I have a clearer understanding of the life I wish to lead, the countless adventures I intended to embark upon, and in time, I have faith that I'll find love again." Cross your fingers for me that I won't be a three time loser. If so, I'll be needing lots more clearance chocolate!

Here are some Nikki Sivils badges as my Valentine's Day gift to you! Yeah... I went all out.

Grandpas and Geekle

2010-12-14T00:35:00.003-05:00

I've made mention of my Grandpa many times in the past. Grandpa was always my favorite... and he knew it. Barely a day goes by that I don't still think of him in some manner. I loved him and miss him very much. Today marks the anniversary of his death. He passed away on this very date, December 14, 1999. So it seems kind of fitting that I should honor him today by sharing some of my favorite Grandpa memories, stories and facts.

Whenever Grandpa had me and my brother in the car, he would always get lost and need to consult a map, right in front of the Dairy Queen.

Grandpa always smelled of Certs and would hum while he was driving.

Grandpa taught me how to play cards and how to 'sit in the bushes'. But he'd never let me win.

Grandpa loved baseball, his favorite team being the Cincinnati Reds. He collected baseball cards his entire life and, as a result, accumulated quite a prized collection of vintage ball cards and memorabilia. In later years, this collection actually served as income for he and my grandmother. They would travel to trade shows and Grandpa became known as "The Old Guy with the Old Cards."

Grandpa was, apparently, scared of heights. I never knew this. I've only just learned this fact within the past month. I was recently given an old scrapbook that my grandmother created of their first trip to Florida. Grandma took this photo of Grandpa on the balcony of their hotel room in Daytona Beach and added the caption, "Love is... standing on the balcony even though one is afraid of high places." Check out Grandpa's death grip on the door jamb. Love it!

During a holiday visit, and after we'd helped our grandparents carry in all their luggage and belongings, my brother and I couldn't help but notice we didn't carry in a single gift. Clearly, we were concerned. Christmas morning rolled around and, of course, there were packages. Grandpa tried to convince us that they did their shopping at the Stop N' Go Quickie Mart after we'd gone to bed, and that all we'd be getting were key chains and bottle openers since the store really didn't have a lot of selection.

Grandpa also liked to give us lumps of coal. I still have all of mine.

He used to tell me that I would one day marry a man named Clyde Updike and we'd have three kids... Headny, Snotty, and Pukey.

Grandpa was a perfectionist. When hanging Christmas garland, he would pull out a ruler and evenly space the distance between each swag. I actually found a snapshot of the perfectly spaced garland. Granted, there's not a whole lot of it showing in the photo, but you get the idea. The lovely lady is, of course, my Grandma.

A kid knocked on the door one day, selling something for a school fundraiser. Grandpa was particularly grumpy and responded, "Johnny can't read or write, but he can sell door to door."

Grandpa used to joke that he was so old, his social security number was 2. This photo was snapped upon the arrival of his first social security check. Big day!

Grandpa was an Army veteran of World War II and served under General George Patton in the European Theater. He never really spoke much about his time during the War but he did make the statement once, to my brother, that he'd hoped he'd been an honorable man.

He taught me how to appreciate old movies and music. It is because of Grandpa that I can honestly rate "White Christmas" as one of my all-time favorite movies and Dean Martin as one of my all-time favorite singers.

Grandpa came up with a concoction he called 'Geekle'. He'd scrounge in the cabinets for anything sweet... sugar, corn syrup, peanut butter, vanilla, etc. Then mix all the ingredients together in a pan, bring the mixture to a boil until it was a candy/fudgey consistency. Next he'd pour it onto a dinner plate and place that plate into the fridge to allow the Geekle to set. Once it was set, he'd take a butter knife (and me) and we'd head to the couch to sliver off bits of the Geekle. It was sugary heaven!

I'll admit, even today, when I'm having a particularly bad time, I'll make a batch of Geekle and curl up on the couch. Grandpas and Geekle still have the ability to make everything better.

ROBERT L. MEYERS, 78, died at 12:35 a.m. Dec. 14, 1999...

Take a stroll down Bella Blvd...

2010-09-25T06:30:00.000-04:00

Well I'm pretty jazzed.

~impromptu jazz hands~

Bella Blvd has been showcasing my design work on their blog this week. On Thursday, one of the projects I created with the super fun "Hello Beautiful" line of papers was featured.

Miss Chelsea, the World's Greatest Niece, turned 13 on August 19th. And I, being the World's Greatest Aunt, was on hand to document the event with my camera. How freakin' cute and photogenic are all these girls? My favorite photo of the day? This one:

Chelsea's party invites stated noon. When I took this photo she was saying, "It's 11:57! Come on, already!"

On Friday, Bella posted this layout I made featuring their "MidTerm" line of papers:

As a designer's challenge, they requested that I create a page which expresses who I am. Well, as badly as I wanted to scrap this photo...

... I played along. ~sigh~

The title pretty much says it all. I know that most of you have been following my blog for some time now, and you're aware of the many changes that I've gone through over the past year. I am happy now. I never plan to grow up, though.

I need to explain the "tastes like candy" comment. My first night back in Ohio, Miss Chelsea and my sister-in-law, Leslie, took me out to dinner at a local Mexican restaurant. Me and Leslie had margaritas with our meal and ordered a non-alchoholic version for Chelsea. When the kid took her first sip, she said, "mmm... tastes like candy." We busted and were like, 'Yeah it does!' So now it's become a thing. Anytime we partake of a frosty beverage there's always the announcement of, "mmm... tastes like candy."

There's tons more Bella projects to follow, so keep an eye on their blog all week.

I leave you with this shot of my pal, Vel. Too much candy.

Hella Lotta Bella

2010-08-14T10:00:00.001-04:00

I'm a little late in announcing this to the blogosphere because... well... basically, you see... one can't very well liquor up, shout from the rooftops, dance nekkid and blog. A gal's gotta establish her priorities. Liquor. So yeah... I've been toe-up in a gutter since receiving the good news. But now I believe I've sobered up enough to announce to the world that I'm a BELLA ARTISTA!

*hiccup*

And just yesterday, Mr. UPS (why, hellooo there ~eyebrow waggle~) brought me a box bursting with a hella lotta Bella! The box not only contained some of their newest lines...

But it also contained a few of my old faves as well!

I believe all this Bella goodness calls for celebration. No? Two for one margaritas, maybe?

Lazy Heifer Chocolate Cake

2010-08-12T20:35:00.003-04:00

As most of you know, I like to bake.

And as most of you know, I'm also a lazy heifer.

Heck, there are days I'm so lazy that it's a struggle to extend my pinky over to the 'shift' key to type uppercase letters.

as a matter of fact... screw the shift key. you're lucky there's punctuation today.

anyways, the recipe. this is the recipe that i make when i need an awesome cake... fast! this is the cake that i take to almost every family gathering and every potluck function (there happens to be a work picnic tomorrow). it gets rave reviews every single time and it's super easy to make!

lazy heifer chocolate cake

1 devil's food cake mix (no pudding in mix - duncan hines is what i use)

1 pkg chocolate instant pudding mix (don't be an uber lazy heifer and use a cake mix with pudding already in the mix. trust me on this. you want to add your own pudding.)

4 large eggs

1 8oz container of sour cream

1/2 cup warm water

1/2 cup canola oil

1/2 bag milk chocolate chips

tub of milk chocolate icing

heat oven to 350. lightly grease bundt pan. combine cake mix, pudding mix, eggs, entire container of sour cream, water and oil with electric mixer. fold in chocolate chips. pour into bundt pan. bake 40-45 mins.

cool. (yes, I am. but the cake needs to cool too.)

heat icing in microwave in 10 second intervals. stir between each heating. should only take 30 seconds to get to the proper consistency for a glaze. drizzle about 1/2 the container over the cooled cake.

now, as a lazy heifer, you'll notice that you have a half a tub of icing and a half a bag of chocolate chips left over. you could save them for another time or you could put on some stretchy pants, grab a spoon and dim the lights.

What's a girl to do?

2010-07-15T17:30:00.000-04:00

Today was a good mail day...

Netflix - Project Runway Season 1 Finale, My Creative Scrapbook design team kit for August and all of the new Nikki Sivils top secret product lines which will be revealed at CHA later this month! Oh... and there's a cat there too... vying for my attention.

So what's a girl to do?! I could watch to see who wins the mentorship with Banana Republic and the $100,000 to develop their own fashion line. It better not be that bitch, Wendy Pepper! However, I really should sit down and get started on my design team work. But there's the Nikki stuff... maybe I could take a peek! Then again, perhaps I should consider taking care of the kitty's needs?

Yeah... noooo... I chose to eat a cookie.

Boxes are still sitting there. Cat is giving me the stink eye & I'm playing on the computer.

Aaaaand... I'm eating another cookie.

The boxes will still be there tomorrow.

Hoping the cat will have given up by then.

More Julies?

2010-07-14T20:30:00.000-04:00

I just wanted to take a moment to share a few things that my best friend, Paula, has made since I moved away. As most of you know, Paula is the Lucy to my Ethel. I am her second banana. And since I split (bwahaha! ~knee slap~ ~wiping tear~) we're each missing the other something krazy. The first is a mini album she sent to me around my birthday:

So what do you say? More Julies? That'd be so cool! I could start a band! Ooo... or be my own angry mob!

The other item is a layout (yes... she's also a scrapper and she has a gallery on Scrapbook.com if you wanna swing by and say, 'howdy ho!'):

Clearly she's referring to one of the other Julies...

Just don't show it to anyone...

2010-07-12T19:55:00.000-04:00

When I presented my nephew, Chase, with the layout I made as a part of my Nikki Sivils design team work, he said, "Cool. Just don't show it to anyone."

So since I'm a loving aunt who'd never dream of going against her nephew's wishes, I'm not gonna show it to anyone. I'm gonna show it to everyone!

The kid might be pretty good on guitar, but I'm slick... and crafty.

Chase's layout can also be seen on Nikki Sivils' blog, where I explain the inspiration, share the product info and gush about the rotten punk who's no match for his super clever aunt.

In addition, the layout is posted in my Scrapbook.com gallery... and as soon as I post this blog entry, the layout will also appear on Facebook.

Dealing with the pain...

2010-07-05T08:00:00.000-04:00

If you'll recall, a few weeks ago my drunken neighbor plowed into the rear of my car and left me with two lovely bumper holes. While our insurance companies worked out the details, I worked through my pain by making light of the situation. The bumper holes became flower vases, umbrella stands, displays for baby doll arms & legs (hey... don't judge) and on Memorial Day, I put flags in them. It was my way of dealing with the pain of my vehicle being torn to shreds. I mean, I would watch folks in my rear view mirror as they'd approach my vehicle from behind. First they'd cruise in to gawk at the damage. Then they'd make some comment to their passenger. There'd be a short exchange and a few snickers. And then every single time, they'd slowly back off, maintaining ample distance between their vehicle and my hazard on wheels. It as if the two holes on my bumper were flashing "HORRIBLE DRIVER HORRIBLE DRIVER HORRIBLE DRIVER".

But my world returned to rainbows & sunshine the Monday before last. After driving around my holey car for a week, and then another two driving the PT Loser, the collision shop called to say that my vehicle was finally ready! I was happy once again. I lovingly stroked my car and mouthed, 'you complete me'.

For three days we went everywhere together. My car took me to work and then waited in the parking lot all day until I got off. He's very devoted. We went shopping together, to dinner, and to the movies. We were gearing up for big weekend plans so we stopped by the bank Friday afternoon. He said he'd wait for me while I went inside. I was in the bank for all of five minutes when I was approached and questioned if I owned a silver Toyota with Florida tags. Jokingly, I replied, "Why? Did someone hit me?" Someone had! Someone had friggin' backed into my car! My car had been fixed for THREE whole days!

Well something in me snapped. I actually started crying. Seriously. The guy who hit me, I'm sure, was way freaked out by my hysterics. We exchanged all of our info, and as I drove away, my heart started hurting. Seriously. My heart seriously started to hurt! I called my brother to tell him what had happened and, of course, being a typical brother... his ass laughed. Three days, folks! THREE DAYS!

I couldn't stop crying & my heart pain continued. But with all of this going on, I had design team work for My Creative Scrapbook that I had to complete. Time was running out! So on top of the whole car situation, I had that obligation. I was stressing big time! My heart was killing me!

So I did what any emotionally distraught gal with chest pains would do. I consulted WebMD. Thanks to WebMD's Symptoms Checker, I determined that I was having a heart attack. So I called my brother again. Did I mention that Jeffie's a paramedic? After hearing my symptoms and talking with me for a bit he determined that I was actually having a panic attack and not a heart attack, as I (and WebMD) believed. Well thank goodness that he's the sane one in our family. Otherwise, I'd be at the hospital hooked up to all sorts of machinery with leads, trip wires, bolts attached to my temples and Dr. Frankenstein. What?

A panic attack? Seriously. Those are real? I've never had one before and I'll be the first to admit that I've thought 'bullshit' when I've heard others talk about them. But... wow... they're real all right. It helped me to put things into perspective when Jeff explained how my body reacted to hearing the news about my car. Add the new collision to the one from THREE DAYS ago to the stress of the design team work and the fact that I'd just turned my world upside down by getting divorced, selling my home, quitting my job, moving to Ohio, finding new employment, etc., etc., etc. Basically, it was the final straw for my poor body.

So I dealt with the pain. I occupied my mind elsewhere. I spent a great weekend with my family and I completed my design team work on time!

Isn't My Creative Scrapbook's Creative Kit for July adorable?! It's so freakin' cute it makes my heart hurt. My heart! Oh no! Better consult WebMD!

Driving me to drink...

2010-06-17T20:55:00.000-04:00

Well it's finally happened. Someone's thrown produce at me. I knew it was bound to happen one day. I've always believed it would be rotten eggs or tomatoes, so imagine my surprise when I saw an orange hurtling towards me at 65MPH. The juicy details... I was driving down a two lane highway on my way to work, when a trucker traveling in the opposite direction chunks a half-eaten orange out his side window. The airborne citrus heads straight for my windshield and I, of course, duck like an idiot and shout pleasantries.

Strangely though, I'm not at all surprised by the orange incident. It kind of fits in with everything I've experienced, in the 90 days that I've been here, concerning Ohio's drivers, the laws and the roadways. Ohio's slogan, 'The Heart Of It All' really implies 'The Hotbed Of All The Crazy'.

This is the bumper of my car. Those two holes? Ohio's version of "Hi. Welcome to the neighborhood." My next door neighbor felt a casserole or fruit basket too trite. He felt the better way to welcome me into the neighborhood was to get wasted and ram two ginormous holes in my car. So thoughtful.

That was three weeks ago. My car is still in the shop! Hopefully, I'll have it back by the weekend. In the meantime, however, I've been driving a rental. Worst. Rental. Ever. I really have no idea what kind of car it is. It's got a Chevy emblem on its grill but it kind of looks like a PT Cruiser. The only marking I see on it is HHR. I figure that stands for Horrendous Hatch-backed Rental. So I've just been calling it the PT Loser. The thing is nothing but a giant blind spot. Which comes in real handy when trying to navigate Ohio's interstates. I truly believe that the interstate system up here was designed by a toddler with a broken crayon. Someone handed little Timmy a sheet of paper, he scribbled a bunch of circles and lines, and construction began.

I've encountered several exit ramps and access ramps that are combined as one. Folks trying to merge onto the interstate are battling against those who are trying to exit in the same location. It's like shuffling two decks of cards together. Another fun thing is what I've taken to calling Highway Roulette. Lanes end, with no warning, they just end. Gone! Now I'm not talking about a right hand lane ending and merging, or anything like that. I'm saying that you can be driving in four lanes of traffic, positioned in one of the inside lanes and it's one of those lanes that will disappear. No warning! Just all of the sudden... whoops... lane gone! Since I'm quite the risk taker, I've enhanced my Highway Roulette experience by driving the PT Loser, with its giant blind spot.

But this has to beat all! Since I need to switch my Florida license over to an Ohio, I picked up a copy of Ohio's Digest of Motor Vehicle Laws. I kid you not, this is in the book:

"When passing to the left, the law requires that a driver overtaking another vehicle do these things:

1. Sound the horn to warn the driver of the vehicle being overtaken that he/she is about to be passed."

Are they for real? Sound the horn?! Who made up that law? Little Timmy and his broken crayon? I don't know about you, but if someone honked their horn at me while passing, I'd shoot them a... stink eye. Yeah... a stink eye. Or at least chunk an orange at them.

I'm in the dog house...

2010-06-14T19:00:00.000-04:00

Willie Bee's dog house, that is!

I am thrilled to say that I was one of the lucky scrappers selected to be on the 2010-2011 Nikki Sivils Design Team! I'm so excited about the opportunity that I could just tinkle on the carpet! Or maybe gnaw on a shoe. I'm just sayin' that this is huge for me. The excitement I'm feeling right now is similar to how I felt the first time I ripped open a Twix and discovered there were two bars in the package. Or the rush I experienced the first time my pre-pubescent eyes ever beheld the teen dream that is Rick Springfield.

I'm gonna be designing for Nikki, y'all! And check out the amazingly talented group of women that I'll be working with.

Domestic DT:
Susan Dupre (Leader)
Deana Boston
Mimi Leinbach
Julie Tucker-Wolek
Delaina Burns
Jennifer Matott
Jennifer Yates
Liz Qualman
Leah Farquharson
Julie Howard

International DT:
Hilde Janbroers (Leader)
Ria Mojica
Anna Bowkis
Janis Medina-Maghinay
Mette Kallander
Michele Beck
Mahlin Wiggur
Monika Martinson
Larissa Albernaz
Wendela Lam
Jill Hildebrand

Card DT:
Rae Barthel
Lori Roop
Christine Ousley
Andrea Budjack
Linda Beeson
Lea Albers
Carina Lindholm
Michelle Bertuzzi
Erika Taylor
Sarah Eclavea

Nikki's Local DT:
Katrina Hunt (Leader)
Laura Parks
Karen Taylor
Stacey Atchley

If you're interested, here's a peek at a few of the projects I sent in to Nikki with my submission. First, a card I made with her My Sweet Cherry Pie line of papers:

I also sent her this layout which documents my recent move from Florida to Ohio. I used a combination of Dan the Record Man, Victoria's Street, and My Sweet Cherry Pie papers. Notice the little 'SOLD' sign on the house in the south and the bluebird of happiness which has flown the coop... headed north!

So yeah... it's been an awesome day. Don't really think there's much that could top this. Well... maybe Rick Springfield showing up and sharing his Twix candy bar.

Isn't it sweet?

2010-06-09T20:00:00.000-04:00

Sweet as cherry pie, that is. If you'll recall, I'm participating in a four part series for Scrapbooking & Beyond magazine along with three of my pals, Liz Qualman, Robbie Herring and Susan Dupre. In the current portion of the series - Summer - we had the pleasure of working with Nikki Sivils' "Sweet Cherry Pie" line of papers.

I love these papers! The bold colors and fun graphics are right up my alley. And hello? Gingham check with cherries! How freakin' precious is that? 'Bout brings a tear to the ol' eye.

Here's my layout from the series, Thank God I'm A Country Girl, which features my niece, Jayde.

Actually, it's probably the fact that Jayde just graduated high school that's bringing a tear to my eye. How is that even possible?! Where does the time go? I swear I must've pulled a Rip Van Winkle and blacked out or something because I'd bet Susan Dupre's right arm that it was only yesterday that Jayde was the flower girl at my wedding and mooning over the fellas from 'N Sync.

Or maybe these are tears of joy over Liz landing the cover?

No. That's not it. Not really feeling joyful. Pretty sure what I'm feeling is jealousy... or gas.

So yeah. I'm gonna sit here and weep over these adorable "Sweet Cherry Pie" papers for a bit. And maybe fondle them too.

If you would like your own set of Nikki Sivils "Sweet Cherry Pie" papers to fondle, click on this link and enter to win. I'll bet Susan Dupre's other arm that someone else will be weeping tears of joy over gingham check and cherries soon.

On The Road

2010-05-08T22:31:00.001-04:00

On The Road
by Catilla the Hon

My story begins last Sunday morning at 8 o’clock. From my position in the window, I watch as the food-giver loads suitcases and boxes into her vehicle. She comes back inside, unceremoniously pulls me from the window, rubs something on my ears and asks if I'm ready for a road trip. Next she shoves me into a crate, slams the door and proclaims, “Ohio here we come!”

Hour 1 of my captivity – Shoot human stink eye from my vantage point in backseat. Vocalize my displeasure. Realize crate is stocked with food, water & litter box. Human stops for gasoline and road snacks.

Hour 1.25 of my captivity – Human returns to vehicle. Left her thoughtful gift in litter box. Human vocalizes displeasure. She’s surprisingly resourceful and uses fast food spoon to remove gift. Human drives several miles with windows rolled down. Fur becomes wind blown mess.

Hour 2 of my captivity - Welcome to Georgia. In honor of event, human switches to country station. I dislike ear-piercing voice of Rascal Flatts' lead singer more than sound of Mr.Vacuum Cleaner. Human mists crate with... ooo... groovy...

Hour 4.5 of my captivity - Wake up to the scent of cheeseburger. Me and human are parked outside McDonald's. Use mind powers to procure piece of McCheese.

Hour 5 of my captivity - Cross into South Carolina. Human switches to 80's station. Me and Axl are yowling "Welcome To The Jungle" when human sprays... dude... wait... what?

Hour 6 of my captivity - Convinced human is brainwashed by Garmin fellow who speaks through dash. She follows his every word. He never says 'release kitty'. I will not be joining his cult.

Hour 7 of my captivity - Stopped for night in Rock Hill, SC. Cheap hotel. Crack housekeeping staff. Carpet smells like fart through dryer sheet.

Day 2

Hour 8 of my captivity - Human rubbed my ears with mysterious liquid again. Heavy rain. Not much to see. Pass time plotting human's death.

Hour 9 of my captivity - North Carolina. Still raining. Have decided to let human live since I've no thumbs and will need help opening crate. Curses!

Hour 10 of my captivity - In mountains now. Ears popping. Can't see any further than car length ahead. Really thick fog... or low lying clouds. What fresh hell is this? Welcome to Virgina.

Hour 11 of my captivity - Drove through big mountain and into West Virginia. Bored. Start yowling. Human mists crate. Now stoned and have munchies.

Hour 12 of my captivity - Gave human another gift at elevation of 3252 feet. Smell that mountain air!

Hour 14 of my captivity - Human very excited about 'Welcome to Ohio' sign. Why is car not stopping?

Hour 16 of my captivity - I'm free! And I'm back to plotting human's death since I'll no longer require her thumbs for escape. There's a lady here who calls me her fuzzy grandchild. I like her. She pets me a lot and sneaks me people food. I shall join her cult.

Oh, and if you happen to be traveling of any great distance with a kitty, and you don't wish to zonk 'em out, human recommends these two products:

Super Pickles & Beach Chairs

2010-04-06T20:00:00.000-04:00

Okay! Stop! Enough with the guilt already. Geesh. I know that I've been neglecting my poor old blog lately, but I really have been busy. Truly busy. Scouts honor!

Wait... is it three fingers, or two?

Na-Nu. Na-Nu.

No, that's not right.

Live long and prosper.

Oh hell.

~thumbs up~

Aaaaayyyyyeee!

To save time, I'm not going to go into major detail (and I know you're thinking, "Is she off her meds? She always goes into crazy-azzed detail."), instead I'm going to give you the Cliffs Notes version of what's going on in my life right now.

This slice of crazy...

is off on a new adventure. I've quit my incredibly glamorous job in Podunk, USA, I've packed up all my worldly belongings (a Super Pickle finger puppet and my Silly Putty sculpture) and I'm heading north. It wasn't an easy decision to make and there are several things about Podunk that I'm going to miss. Like Rock Beach, for instance. And hot boiled peanuts, cheesy roadside tourist traps and the fact that I actually have a pair of "good" flip-flops in my wardrobe. But more than anything else, I'm going to miss my friends. There's a reason my friends are always featured on my scrapbook pages and why I'm always writing about our adventures together; they're a huge part of my life. I love my friends. They are all very dear to me and I will miss them most of all.

Although the packing of Super Pickle and the Silly Putty sculpture is taking a lot of time, I've been trying to hang out with my friends as much as possible too. There are a few special moments I'd like share. Went to the movies with Lesley and saw Alice and Wonderland. We both had us a nice two hour nap. So yeah... quality time with ol' Lester. Up high, Les!

Then Paula drug me to the movies, again, to see Hot Tub Time Machine. (Geesh... what's up with all the movies?! I'm forty freakin' years old people! You carbo load my azz and then place me in a dark room for two hours... I'm gonna suck some air!)

What else? Oh! Had a huge moving sale this past Saturday. One of my favorite moments happened during the sale. And it's a moment that I don't think I'll ever forget. Last summer, Paula and I spent at least every other weekend on Rock Beach. Oh the stories our beach chairs could tell. Actually, if you'll recall, it was those beach chairs that almost sent me to the big Bait Shop in the sky. Well, the chairs and some waves, courtesy of Hurricane Bill.

Anyways, there's really no reason for me to drag that sandy beach chair 900 miles, so I put it in the sale. Paula stopped by during everything to bring me some breakfast (isn't she great?) and happened to be there when the chair sold. She never said a word as she watched the exchange of money or as the chair's new owner walked back down my driveway. But when she turned to me she had tears in her eyes. That's why I love my friends.

So if I'm not posting as often as I normally do, that's the reason. I'm trading in my flip-flops and beach chair for sensible shoes and ummm... I got nothin'. Maybe I need a nap. Movie anyone?

Merry Freakin' Kitmas

2010-03-05T09:00:00.000-05:00

Well it's the 5th of the month, once again. A date, for many, as highly anticipated as Christmas. I've heard stories of women who claim not to be able to sleep the night before My Creative Scrapbook reveals their new kits. They lay awake with visions of paper and chipboard dancing in their heads. Then when the big day finally does arrive, Ma with her kercheif, springs from the bed and rushes to her computer, eager to see what MCS has given her... knowing that it'll be nothing short of a pony or a puppy! Definitely no disappointing tube socks in these kits.

And even though I'm a tad annoyed that no one bothered to leave a plate of cookies out for my jolly behind, I'll play along. Cause I'm a giver. So yeah, Merry freakin' Kitmas.

Working with the Album Kit, I managed to document my grandparent's 50th wedding anniversary, which occurred back in 1998. The title for my page, Always, was actually their wedding song. A sampling of the lyrics are, "I'll be loving you always. With a love that's true, always. Not for just an hour. Not for just a day. Not for just a year. But always." Sadly, Grandpa died just a few years later and Grandma requested their wedding song be played at his funeral.

I find that incredibly sweet. Sweet like those cookies would've been... had they been left for me and my giving soul.

Sweet like birthday cake icing smeared all over a baby's face and hands. Those sticky hands which want nothing more than to be picked up so that they can touch you... your pretty clothes, your clean hair, your nice furniture... everything. Ghack!

No more talk of babies and all the sticky stuff they tend to drag along with them. Blech! There's a reason I really didn't enjoy being an Aunt until Chelsea got to be this age:

Now that she's older and her hands aren't as sticky, I'm once again allowing her to hug me and sit on the furniture. However, if she doesn't do something about her taste in music soon, she's gonna be losing those couch privileges. What?! I'm just sayin' there's only so much bubblegum pop one Aunt can take.

... and they heard her exclaim as she stalked out of sight, "Merry Kitmas to all and you better leave some friggin' cookies next time!"

Klassy!

2010-03-03T18:00:00.003-05:00

I'm a super klassy kind of gal. Normally, one must travel as far as the hot boiled peanut stand at the Farmer's Market in order to find a genteel creature, such as myself. However, this past Sunday night, one could find me and my two super klassy cohorts, Lesley and Paula, hanging out at the Skate Station (come on, you know you're jealous). We were there to cheer on the Roller Rebels, Gainesville's Roller Derby Team, as they played their first game of the season.

I'm not a sports fan. At all. Ew. But I have to admit, Roller Derby intrigues me. I think it's just the idea of angry women on roller skates. Angry women on roller skates with bad ass nicknames. Wait... angry women on rollers skates with bad ass nicknames wearing ripped fishnet stockings and tutus. That's entertainment! That's klass! Quick... give me a beer bottle so I can open it with my teeth.

My camera wasn't cooperating during the game so I don't have a lot of action shots to post. Lesley was also not cooperating during the game, claiming that she didn't have a trace of make-up on. So the only photo I have to post of her from that night is this one showing the whites of her eyes.

Me and Paula, on the other hand, couldn't care less whether we had make-up on or not.

Who are we gonna impress? The toothless guy over there gnawing on a pretzel? Or maybe the emo kid down in the front with all the piercings? No. This guy!

Yep. Definitely worth the few extra moments I took to apply some lip gloss.

When I grow up...

2010-02-25T15:00:00.000-05:00

Things are getting pretty scary at my place of employment. Just yesterday, in an effort to avoid layoffs, everyone's hours, wages and benefits were cut. However, if business doesn't pick up soon, layoffs will happen and I fear that I will be one of the folks let go. Which, obviously, has me pretty freaked. I mean, Slurpees and nekkid lady trucker caps just don't pay for themselves! And dammit, it's Girl Scout cookie season!

Throughout my school years, my mom kept all of my pictures, report cards, memories and such in an album which she handed over to me this past Christmas. Each year, along with the information such as my teacher's name, my best friend and my favorite subject she also documented what I wanted to be when I grew up. In Kindergarten I claimed I wanted to be a nurse. What the hell?! Clearly that answer was the result of my having eaten too much paste.

Even stranger yet is the answer I gave her from grades one through five. Apparently, until I was 10 years old, I wanted to be a teacher. Again, what the hell?! I must've been infatuated with red ink. Or perhaps I was giddy with the knowledge that a teacher has the power to label a person as satisfactory, below average, or my personal fave... a failure. And they're able to state those facts in glorious red ink!

Luckily, by the time I hit Middle School, I'd realized that women could be more than just nurses, teachers and ballerinas. They could be anything! So from that point on, my school album reflected such career choices as archaeologist, fashion designer and journalist.

As I think back on all the jobs I've held over the last 40 years, not a single one of them, however, is a career that I'd listed in that school album. So far in my life I've worked as a:

Shake Shoppe Girl
Movie Theatre Concession Stand Girl
Pizza Delivery Driver
TCBY Counter Chick
Airport Gift Store Attendant
Tuxedo Rental Store Clerk
Hotel Front Desk Clerk
Hotel Night Auditor
Hotel Director Of Sales
Newspaper Paste-Up/Layout
Accounts Payable Clerk
Accounts Receivable Clerk
Receptionist...

and currently I'm a purchasing agent. Cross your fingers this one sticks for a bit longer. Well, at least until my shipment of Thin Mints arrives. But seriously, look at the list. Where's my archaeology? Where's my fashion designer? Where's my journalist?

Sure I've gotten older, but did I ever grow up? Oh my gosh! Am I freakin' Peter Pansy?! So I have to ask myself, what do I want to be when I grow up?

Snoring & Beyond. Scrapbooking too.

2010-02-17T16:00:00.000-05:00

Although I'll never stop comparing the sound of her snores to Barry White yodeling while simultaneously trying to cough up a rusty jack hammer, I do have to be serious for a moment and offer my pal, Robbie Herring, a huge congratulations. Robbie's layout is featured on the cover of Scrapbooking & Beyond's Spring 2010 issue. Yay Robbie!

Robbie's layout is from the four-part Kit Kraze series currently running in the magazine. And I'm thrilled to say that I was also invited to be a part of the series, along with Susan Dupre (Weezy) and Liz Qualman. Liz is the only one I haven't heard snore yet. But just look at that narrow nose and throat. She's bound to be a window rattler.

From the magazine: "This series will show readers what it is like to receive a scrapbook kit and some possibilities for projects as shown by the four designers participating in this series. Get inspired to create fabulous pages by checking out the work of these talented designers, grab your own kit, and get to scrappin’."

And since I'm thoughtful, I'm going to show you my layout from the issue now. 'Cause yeah... I'm a giver.

So giving, in fact, that I'm also going to post the link to where you can enter for a chance to win the exact kit featured in the first installment of our series!

** CLICK HERE **

I'm a super giver. I think I need a cape.

While you're over there, entering to win, be sure to check out the wonderful creations by Jack Hammer Herring, Wheezy Dupre and Window Rattlin' Qualman... respectfully Robbie, Susan and Liz. They are all fabulously talented ladies (who sleep hard) and I'm honored to be a part of series.

Love Is In The Air...

2010-02-05T07:00:00.000-05:00

... and I'm about to run out of Lysol trying to ward the darned stuff off! That love crap's impossible to get rid of once it takes hold of you. It'll have you all starry-eyed, smiling like a fool, and talking nonsense. Why I heard tell of one woman who was so lovesick that she couldn't eat, couldn't sleep and couldn't bare to even hang up the phone! She'd coo into the receiver, "No... you hang up first. No... you." It's a horrible, debilitating strain of virus and I'm doing everything within my power not to catch it... again.

You see, when the postman delivered February's Design Team Kit from My Creative Scrapbook, I'm convinced that Pam had an evil plan to infect me with the virus. I'm always really eager to see the kits when they arrive and normally rip right into the packaging. When I opened February's box, I felt something shoot me right in the eye! And I'm pretty sure it was that punk, Cupid! I fixed his cherub butt though... I took away his poisonous darts and made him walk a dog for all eternity. Now put that in your bow and shoot it! Punk!

The photos are of me and Miss Annabelle at her kissing booth. Annabelle was selling kisses (she called them yummies) for charity. You can read all about our time together and about her wonderful organization (Southeast Pug Rescue & Adoption) on one of my earlier blog entries... located here.

Cupid failed in his mission to take me down, but that Pam's a crafty one. She devised a back up plan. She stuffed that kit so full of pink, mushy sentiments and love soaked hearts that I broke out into a cold sweat and could feel my body growing weak. But I had to push through...

By the time I'd completed the layout of my adorable nephew, my skin had lost all color and I was laying on the sofa with a cold washcloth across my forehead. But I still had another project to complete. Must... find... strength...

These photos are from a day trip up to Fernandina Beach's Trailer Park Collectibles. It was an adventure that had a blog post all its own, which you can read about here. And if you're truly curious about the 10 Things I love about Thrift Stores you can click on the image for a larger view.

Once I'd completed my layouts, I finally had to admit defeat. I was in love. The kit was adorable. As much as I tried to hate on all the pink and the hearts and the mushy gushy love stuff, I couldn't. I had become starry-eyed. I was talking complete nonsense (more than normal). And when I called Five Star Pizza, I couldn't hang up! No... you hang up first. No... you. I needed a cure... fast!

I had to think! What could stop the love virus from spreading? What could kill love?

Cured. And forever, I'd imagine.

The Tortilla Chip Theory

2010-02-02T20:45:00.001-05:00

My friend, Lesley, had a rough week and was in dire need of some girl time. She was feeling pretty low about a certain fella so I, full of sage advice, took her to Chili's for happy hour and my Tortilla Chip Theory.

Basically, my theory is that men are like tortilla chips. Sure, that one tortilla is nice. In fact, you may quite fancy it. It's very tempting with its firm, nice shape. And it's very pleasing to the eyes. That one tortilla smells incredible, tastes amazing and before long, you and the tortilla are spicing things up with condiments.

You think that tortilla could be the one. You spend all of your time with it. You express your love and devotion. But time passes and, eventually, you'll notice the tortilla beginning to get a little stale and moldy. Then one day you'll find it camped out in your couch cushions, surrounded by crumbs. Your tortilla will no longer be the tasty snack you once desired and craved. You'll finally see it for what it is... a greasy chip laying on your sofa! And the only thing you'll feel then? Fat!

My point is, there are so many other delicious chips in the basket yet to be tasted. Don't waste your time or tears on one chip (besides, it'll get soggy), choose another chip! The world is a Chili's basket full of tortilla chips!

My other advice to Lesley? 2-for-1 Margaritas, baby!

Yeah, she was a quick study.

Keeping In Touch...

2010-01-29T13:00:00.001-05:00

So I was flipping through my mail the other day, when I came upon a brightly colored envelope from a Susan Miller in Des Moines, Iowa. I searched my mind to try and figure out who the heck Susan Miller was and why she'd be sending me a card. My extended family is very small, so I knew there was no long lost cousin out in Iowa somewhere that had named me as sole heir to their dilapidated shack and overgrown vegetable garden. And once I'd established that if I were, in fact, the target of an anthrax terrorist attack, chances were pretty good that there wouldn't be a return address on the envelope; I opened it.

Once I did, however, a little piece of my heart shriveled up and died. I fell to my knees, clutched the card to my chest and let out a painful, gut wrenching wail.

It was just so sad.

I mean... look!

Why do I not remember Susan?! And had my very presence in her life made it better for living? Was I the sunshine to her flower? Without my light force, was she cast into darkness? Left to wither on the vine? Am I so careless in my relationships that I don't even remember our paths crossing? Clearly, I'm a horrible, selfish person! I'm not worthy of her friendship if I can move on with my life, with nary a thought to the past; never to wonder what's become of her. Never to wonder if she's looking up at the same sky, wishing on the same star...

Susan Miller
Proactiv Customer Service

What the hell?!

Turns out this Susan chick misses me (and my money) something fierce. Susan wishes I'd break out in festering, oozing boils to the point that I'd have no choice but to renew my monthly subscription for Proactiv's Clear Skin System. How thoughtful. How sweet. She misses me.

Now I'm not knockin' Proactiv. Proactiv is a wonderful product. And it's a product that actually works! There was a time, just this past year as a matter of fact, that I needed it. My complexion was out of control! It got so bad at one point, I was starting to look like Sloth from the friggin' Goonies! Ruth! Ruth! Baby! Ruth! But Proactiv worked. For once, a product actually performed as promised.

Okay, so yes, maybe I should have sent the folks at Proactiv a "Thank You" card. A simple gesture stating how much I appreciated their product and the timely manner in which they withdrew the funds from my account every month. They were always so good at that. So in an effort to make amends, and in the hopes that I never have to see those little weeping fox/puppy/bear eyes again, I sent Susan a "Thinking Of You" card.

In the card, I enclosed photos of my children, Ruby and Lance (the two pimples that pop up on my chin every 28 days) along with a few funny anecdotes about them - like how they love to ruin my photos and and how they like to glow bright red in order to draw attention to themselves. I figure that'll keep Susan happy until the holidays. At which time she'll receive a Christmas card and a portrait of me and the children in front of the tree. Me in a Santa hat, the kids glowing bright red...

Let's talk tunes...

2010-01-23T21:26:00.007-05:00

I know it's been quite a few days since my last post but I've been busy. Busy, busy, busy. Bellybutton lint and toe jam don't just pick themselves, ya know.

While I've been pickin', I've had my music playing in the background. So while I really don't think you'll enjoy picking my toes, I do think you might enjoy some of the music that's been spilling from my speakers.

Weezer

Before they broke up in 2004, The Libertines managed to crank out one of my favorite songs, "The Good Old Days."

Southern Culture On The Skids

The Features

And my beloved Eels released their latest album, End Times, on the 19th.

So next I'm thinking I'm gonna wrap this here hair around my finger until it turns purple. When I tire of that, I'll think about another blog post. Until that time, enjoy the tunes... and this here pile of bellybutton lint and toe jam. Oh... no need to thank me.

Lucha Libre Banana

2010-01-14T09:00:00.002-05:00

The following conversation took place on my Facebook wall yesterday.

ME: Why is there a toothless wrestler sticker on my banana? It's intimidating. Now I'm scared to eat my banana. Maybe I should have eaten the apple instead. Its sticker reads 'delicious'.

KIM: ~giggling uncontrollably~

VEL: Oh, no worries. They do that to let the toothless wrestlers know this food is safe to eat... without teeth. Ya know? Toothless wrestlers can't very well eat apples, now can they? Go look at a baby food jar... bet there's a toothless wrestler sticker on it.

AMI: I not only think it's safe to eat, I think you need to save that sticker and scrap it. You could educate the masses on these toothless wrestler stickered bananas through your art.

KIM: ~wetting herself from laughter~

ME: You know I think you're right, Vel. I seem to recall there being toothless midget wrestlers on baby food jars.

AMI: Well, babies kinda *are* toothless little wrestlers. Makes sense to put that on their food.

MISTI: My sticker on my banana says lose weight. Jerk!

SUE: A guy I work with used to draw on my bananas.

MISTI: I like to draw on them too!

ME: Misti, your banana is a jerk! It needs a good whoopin'! Want me to sic my wrestler nanna on it?

VEL: There's a toothless wrestler sticker on our copier. Should I be concerned?

ME: Making copies for a nanna tag team, perhaps?

During the banana conversation, three things became very apparent. One - Kim really needs to lay off the hash. Two - I can honestly claim that I'm not the krazy one in my circle of friends. And three - the marketing genius who came up with the whole banana sticker concept needs to be fired.

Ninja Cat - The Series (Episode 2)

2010-01-13T10:00:00.001-05:00

Ninja Cat is vigilant...

Ninja Cat's combat skills are unparalleled...

You can not see Ninja Cat, but Ninja Cat can see you...

Kommercial Break

2010-01-12T16:19:00.007-05:00

We interrupt this episode of Ninja Cat for an important announcement in regards to the kreative genius that is Kea.

The super kool and always krafty, Kea, has kreated a kit klub. Yes! A kit klub kalled Kreatorville Kraft.

For future reference, there's a Kreatorville link over on the left side of this blog. Or... oh, I don't know... maybe you kould visit her site, save it to your faves and become a follower. Or even better, you kould get all krazy and subscribe to one of her kits!

And for those who've been hiding under a rock (now I know it's all warm and kozy, especially now that you have that Snuggie, but you really need to pay better attention). Anyway, Kea also has an esty shop where you can purchase Aptly Titled, Kea's kustom title work.

So get krackin'! Klick HERE!

This announcement was brought to you today by low blood sugar and the letter "K".

We return to our regularly scheduled programming tomorrow with another exciting episode of Ninja Cat!

Ninja Cat - The Series (Episode 1)

2010-01-11T18:16:00.003-05:00

Ninja Cat is stealth...

Ninja Cat is invisible...

Ninja Cat leaves no trace...

Movies, Music & Books

2010-01-10T11:39:00.007-05:00

What I'm watching:

What I'm listening to:

Cage The Elephant

What I'm reading:

Completely Random Post

2010-01-08T10:00:00.001-05:00

Today marks what would've been Elvis' 75th birthday. Let's all take a moment, shall we, to celebrate a young, hot, skinny Elvis.

OK... is it just me, or is that chick who's clapping really annoying? Try to ignore the awesomeness that is Elvis. I know it's tough, but play along. And re-play the clip without sound and only watch the girl. I hope to all things Peanut Butter and Banana that Priscilla punched her in the mouth at some point in life.

Speaking of points in life, remember how I spent my 40th birthday? I found the timing of the entire thing so funny that I couldn't not scrap a page about it. Which I finally did last week:

And as with most things in life, something good came from it. After I posted my creation on 2 Peas ("the number one scrapbook site on the web")... well... just LOOK!

How freakin' awesome is that?! There aren't a lot of things in life that make me happy. I mean, it always makes me smile when the super pleasant cashier thanks me for shopping at Walmart. Clearly she cares about me and how my day is going. And I also really like how the folks at MickeyD's always anticipate my needs by asking if I'd like fries with my sandwich. That's cool. But seeing my layout make the Top 10 on 2 Peas... well now, I was just downright giddy. I got all crazy and ordered a McFlurry when they asked me, "will that be all?"

And no, that's not all. I stumbled into this scene last night:

Tell me they don't look like extras in the Gone With The Wind hospital scene?

Home for the Holidays

2010-01-06T07:00:00.000-05:00

As you may recall, I took a road trip up to Ohio this past month to spend the holidays with my family. A fifteen hour drive by myself! I did pretty good too. I only had two mishaps. One - listening to every person who ever claimed Jack In The Box was good eatin' and two, a little fender bender. (Who knew trying to jump a Corolla over 13 shopping carts, 4 mall Santas and a plastic baby Jesus could be dangerous?)

Anyways. To continue... I had luggage and Christmas gifts in trunk, a drink cooler in the backseat and my XM Radio set on the 80's. What more could I possibly need? I'll tell you what. Tinted windows. Can't a girl sing Wham's "I'm Your Man" in the privacy of her car without getting a honk and a thumbs up from a passing trucker? I'm sure he couldn't hear my singing, and I'm more inclined to believe it was my slick, car seat dance moves that he was applauding, but still... tinted windows. Note to self.

After stopping for the night in Rock Hill, SC and multiple bathroom breaks (damn Jack In The Box), I finally made it to the Ohio line!

Around 3PM I pulled up to my Mom's house. Everyone say hi to my Mom. Hi Mommy! (Yes, I'm one of those folks who call their mom, Mommy. I also called my dad, Daddy. I'm not ashamed... they'll always be Mommy & Daddy. Period.)

Next I drove over to my brother's house. That's when it really sank in that I was "home for the holidays". Isn't this a nice holiday welcome:

Once it got dark, we all ventured out to look at Christmas lights. And boy did we find them!

Could it get any better, you ask? Why yes, yes it does. I awoke the next morning to snow. I was going to have a white Christmas!

I abandoned my family for a bit and drove north to Erie, PA to meet up with my ol' pal, Vel. I've already recapped this portion of my trip and you can read about it here. Then on Tuesday, I drove into Columbus to have dinner with one of my oldest and dearest friends, Cheryll.

I met Cheryll during my junior year of high school. Although she was my journalism advisor, we formed an immediate friendship. It was through her guidance and encouragement that I attended Ohio University and majored in Journalism. And, in later years, Cheryll stood in as my Maid of Honor at my wedding. She's awesome! So everyone say hi to Cheryll. Hi Cheryll!

The next several days were a blur; filled with family time, shopping, eating tons o' junk, playing Rock Band and snow tubing!

And before I knew it, it was Christmas...

Here's my niece, Chelsea, modeling her new boots. Clearly, she's thrilled with them! Her mom... not so much. They were returned the next day. Mom didn't realize the boots would make her little girl look like such a hooker. Poor Chelsea. Maybe Santa will bring you hooker boots next year, when you're a little bit older.

And check out my nephew, Chase. After we were all done with our gift exchange, we went upstairs so he could play his guitar for me (the kid played Crazy Train!). He's awesome! And check the poster... yep, kid after my own heart. Again, I say... he's awesome!

I had to get up early the next morning to begin my long drive back to Florida. But before I made my departure, there was one more photo I had to take...

Best ice cream ever! Ohio, family and friends... yeah, yeah, yeah. It was really the ice cream that made it a happy holiday. The ice cream, I say!

Kickin' off the year with MCS!

2010-01-05T07:00:00.000-05:00

Throughout history, January 5th has been the start of many great things. It was on this day in 1940 that the Federal Communications Commission (FCC) listened to a demo of FM radio. Ten years later on this day, in 1950, Gene Autry’s “Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer” topped the Billboard Pop Charts at #1. And it was again on this very day in 1943 that an 11 year old Elizabeth Taylor starred in her very first acting role - an appearance on Lassie Come Home.

And here it is January 5, 2010 and I'm about to reveal another great moment for the history books...

My Creative Scrapbook's Album Kit for January!!

~please hold your excitement and applause til' the end~

Several months ago, I had the opportunity to spend an entire weekend with three of my favorite people - Robbie Herring, Susan Goetter and Susan Dupre. Or as I like to call them... the Snore Sisters. They made me promise not to mention that. So instead, howzabout I just give you the link to the story behind the name. CLICK HERE!! CLICK HERE!!

More recently, I got to spend an entire week with this cutie:

The cutie pictured above is my awesome niece, Chelsea. She's no longer that tiny, but she's still just as cute!

But you know who's the cutest of them all?! ME! And I'm humble too.

That's me in all my cuteness, as the flower girl at my Aunt Nancy & Uncle Steve's wedding, back in 1971. (In the photo below - my brother, Jeff, is the ring bearer and my Mom is third from the left). Anyways, in an effort to get me to cooperate with the events of the day, everyone told me that it would be fun! That my being flower girl was a game where I could play dress up and everything! I'm sure you'll be surprised to learn that my fun-o-meter ran out pretty fast, and apparently I turned to my mom and whined, "I'm tired of playing this game."

They'll never let me live that down...

As much as I'll never let the Snore Sisters live this down. CLICK HERE!! CLICK HERE!!

My New Year's Resolutions

2009-12-31T17:06:00.005-05:00

I resolve to only give fur Mohawks to my kitties on days which end in "Y".

I resolve to not call people "dumbass"... to their faces.

I resolve to never buy store brand peanut butter again.

I resolve to assign a different ring tone to each of my contacts so I won't have to get off the couch to know who's calling.

I resolve to eat healthier and exercise more.

Eh... who am I kidding. May as well go ahead and scratch that one now.

I resolve to put more money into savings. Countries and crowns don't buy themselves!

I resolve to never wear sensible shoes or holiday sweaters.

I resolve to belittle the ignorant instead of mentally pinching their heads off.

I resolve that this year will be better than the last! Here's to old friends and new beginnings.

What happens in Erie...

2009-12-29T08:14:00.008-05:00

During my trip home for the holidays, I made the short (3 hr) drive up to Erie, PA to meet with my ol' pal, Vel, who drove in from Rochester, NY. First thing we did was to hit the online Porn Name Generator. Seriously. Since Vel's got the best porn name ever... Velvet Spicer... I needed a moniker as equally phenomenal. So for the duration of our visit I went by the name Jizzy Slamm!

First we exchanged Christmas presents. (One of Vel's gifts was a little doggy that's supposed to poop jellybeans. I, of course, tossed the jellybeans and filled his behind with Raisinettes instead.)

Check this - it's the view from our hotel balcony.

We were like moths to a flame, baby. Moths to a flame. The sign posted outside the fireworks shop read, "Pepperspray, Stunguns and Sugar-Free Fudge". Awesome!

So after we dropped a cool $100 on fudge and fireworks, we went shopping for hours and terrorized the wait staff at Olive Garden. By this time, the snow was falling pretty hard and we had a few drinks under our belts (scratch that - under our stretchy pants) so we decided to go black ice skating in the parking lot.

Black ice skating works up quite a thirst so we went in search of frosty beverages. Erie is a strange town. Their convenience stores don't sell alcohol! We walked all over the Quickie Mart and nothing. We didn't want to appear stupid after spending so much time wandering up and down their aisles, so we purchased two truckers caps, a nekkid lady bottle cozy and a kazoo. We eventually found refreshments at a placed called BEER STORE. Those Erie folks are mighty clever. Betcha it took them weeks to come up with that store name. It only beat out LIKKER STORE because they weren't sure on the spelling.

Back at the hotel, Vel kicked my ass in bottle cap toss. I, on the other hand, managed to open all my bottles without breaking a single tooth. I'm Supah Klassy! Hey... that'd be a good porn name too!

I think we ended up passing out around 2AM or so. I believe this was just after we tossed cat calls to the men below shoveling the walks. No... wait... we did that in the morning. Honestly, I can't recall anything that happened between the hours of 11and 2. Vel? Can you fill in the gaps?

On the twelfth day of Christmas...

2009-12-25T09:00:00.009-05:00

On the twelfth day of Christmas, Retro gave to me...

the best Christmas movie!

when she lied to Santa,
a pic of her tree,
her favorite present,
Pecan Bars a baking,
why she's not in show biz,
Christmas morning bed head,
five Elvis songs!
Marshmallow World,
three fat cats,
krazed dancing Julie,
and her mother's chili recipe!

I wish to thank everyone for being such loyal readers and followers. I have a great time writing about my adventures and it's always a treat to know that you're right there, giggling along with me. Wishing you a joyous holiday season and the hopes that Grandma blacks out before she finishes off all the rum balls. Happy Holidays!

On the eleventh day of Christmas...

2009-12-24T09:00:00.008-05:00

On the eleventh day of Christmas, Retro gave to me...

when she lied to Santa!

1975

a pic of her tree,
her favorite present,
Pecan Bars a baking,
why she's not in show biz,
Christmas morning bed head,
five Elvis songs!
Marshmallow World,
three fat cats,
krazed dancing Julie,
and her mother's chili recipe!

On the tenth day of Christmas...

2009-12-23T09:00:00.010-05:00

On the tenth day of Christmas, Retro gave to me...

A pic of her tree!

her favorite present,
Pecan Bars a baking,
why she's not in show biz,
Christmas morning bed head,
five Elvis songs!
Marshmallow World,
three fat cats,
krazed dancing Julie,
and her mother's chili recipe!

On the ninth day of Christmas...

2009-12-22T09:00:00.006-05:00

On the ninth day of Christmas, Retro gave to me...

her favorite present!

Fashion Plates! 1978

Pecan Bars a baking,
why she's not in show biz,
Christmas morning bed head,
five Elvis songs!
Marshmallow World,
three fat cats,
krazed dancing Julie,
and her mother's chili recipe!

On the eighth day of Christmas...

2009-12-21T09:00:00.005-05:00

On the eighth day of Christmas, Retro gave to me...

Pecan Bars a baking!

Pecan Pie Bars

1 box yellow cake mix
(set aside 1 cup of cake mix from package)
1/4 cup butter, softened
1 egg, slightly beaten
3 eggs
3/4 cup packed brown sugar
3/4 cup dark corn syrup
1 teaspoon vanilla
1 1/4 cups coarsely chopped pecans

Preheat oven to 350°F. Lightly grease a 9x13-inch baking pan; set aside. Set aside second measure of the cake mix for the filling. For the crust, in a large mixing bowl combine remaining cake mix, butter, and slightly beaten egg. Stir with a fork until crumbly. Turn into prepared pan. With lightly floured hands, press evenly onto the bottom to form a crust. Bake for 12 minutes. Meanwhile, for filling, in a medium bowl combine the second measure of eggs, brown sugar, corn syrup and vanilla. Add the reserved cake mix; stir with a fork just until blended. Some tiny cake clumps will remain. Spread filling evenly over baked crust; sprinkle with pecans. Bake for 25 - 30 minutes or until filling appears set when pan is gently shaken. Cool completely on wire rack. Cut into bars. Cover and chill to store.

why she's not in show biz,
Christmas morning bed head,
five Elvis songs!
Marshmallow World,
three fat cats,
krazed dancing Julie,
and her mother's chili recipe!

On the seventh day of Christmas...

2009-12-20T09:00:00.005-05:00

On the seventh day of Christmas, Retro gave to me...

why she's not in show biz!

1979

Christmas morning bed head,
five Elvis songs!
Marshmallow World,
three fat cats,
krazed dancing Julie,
and her mother's chili recipe!

On the sixth day of Christmas...

2009-12-19T09:00:00.004-05:00

On the sixth day of Christmas, Retro gave to me...

Christmas morning bed head!

1973

Five Elvis songs!
Marshmallow World,
three fat cats,
krazed dancing Julie,
and her mother's chili recipe!

On the fifth day of Christmas...

2009-12-18T09:00:00.009-05:00

On the fifth day of Christmas, Retro gave to me...

Five Elvis Songs!

Marshmallow World,
three fat cats,
krazed dancing Julie,
and her mother's chili recipe!

On the fourth day of Christmas...

2009-12-17T09:00:00.005-05:00

On the fourth day of Christmas, Retro gave to me...

Marshmallow World!

three fat cats,
krazed dancing Julie,
and her mother's chili recipe!

On the third day of Christmas...

2009-12-16T09:00:00.006-05:00

On the third day of Christmas, Retro gave to me...

Three fat cats!

krazed dancing Julie,
and her mother's chili recipe!

On the second day of Christmas...

2009-12-15T09:00:00.005-05:00

On the second day of Christmas, Retro gave to me...

Krazed dancing Julie!

and her mother's chili recipe!

On the first day of Christmas...

2009-12-14T09:00:00.004-05:00

On the first day of Christmas, Retro gave to me...

her mother's chili recipe!

Cindy's Chili

1 lb ground beef
2 - 15oz cans kidney beans (one can dark red, one can light)
1 - 15oz can tomato sauce
1 - 10oz can Ro*Tel Mexican tomatoes
1 heaping tbsp chili powder
1 onion, left whole
salt to taste
Fritos corn chips, for garnish

In large pot, brown ground beef. Do not drain. Add all remaining ingredients (again, without draining any of the liquids). Fill one of the empty 15oz cans with water and add. Float the onion for flavor. Simmer on low for 1-2 hours, or all day in crock pot on low.

Everybody loves Bo Bunny sometime...

2009-12-10T14:19:00.003-05:00

~crooning~

Everybody loves Bo Bunny sometime
Everybody falls in love somehow
Something in their designs has told me
That sometime is now

I've spent a lot of time working with Bo Bunny's 'Tis The Season line of papers in recent weeks. And, as a result, there are a few items that I simply must share with you.

The Santa Paws layout I created for My Creative Scrapbook was spotlighted on Bo Bunny's blog. Cool, huh?!

Check it:

Bo Bunny

In addition, today over on Ideas For Scrapbookers is the gift bow tutorial I wrote, featuring the use of Bo Bunny patterned papers.

Check it out also:

Gift Bow Tutorial

Let's hear it for Bo Bunny!

And since I'm making you check things out...

Jabba The Catt

2009-12-06T06:00:00.002-05:00

Hay lapa no ya, Retro!

'Tis the Season...

2009-12-05T07:00:00.000-05:00

... to be crafty! Fa la la la la la la la.

Wow that was cheesy. Mmmm... cheese. Melted cheese. Deep Fried Cheese Sticks. Grilled Cheese Sandwiches. Cheesy Bread. Cheesecake!

But you're here now. And I've managed to keep you here with the talk of cheese, so I'm gonna take this opportunity to show you my latest projects. Everything here (with the notable exception of my charismatic wit and charm) was made with My Creative Scrapbook's Creative Kit for December.

Christmas morning, 1995, Punky (aka Santa Paws) spent some time with my cousins. Journaling reads, "Santa Paws gave Becca, Ethan and Lucas the gifts of joy and holiday cheer... then ate all their cookies."

This is a photo I took of Sketch last year during the holidays. I wonder what he's thinking about? I'll bet it's cheese.

Won't you join with me in singing Chelsea's Christmas Carol?

O' Christmas Tree, O' Christmas Tree
How prickly are your branches!

My parents say I must behave;
and not pick fights with my brother, Chase.

O' Christmas Tree, O' Christmas Tree
How prickly are your branches!

If I am good, Santa brings me gifts.
How many days 'til December 25th?!

O' Christmas Tree, O' Christmas Tree
How prickly are your branches!

It wasn't me! I'm innocent!
He hit me first! 'Twas self defense!

A paper Christmas tree! Just what you've always wanted, right?! Want it? No... seriously... want it?

Forget about the cheese, would ya! I'm trying to find this paper tree a loving home. Yours perhaps?

No? Ghah!

Okay! Okay! I'll throw in a cheese slice.

St.Mary's / Cumberland Island - Part 3

2009-12-04T16:54:00.001-05:00

When we last saw our heroes they were dehydrated and facing certain death from exposure on the Cumberland Island dunes. They had but three options. One - backtrack 1.5 miles to the Dungeness to retrieve forgotten water canister. Two - proceed 1.5 miles in the other direction to the Sea Camp Ranger Station. Or Three - drink from one of the other two water canisters they had in reserve. Hey, Rocky, watch me pull a rabbit outta my hat.

Hydrated, we finish our trek through the dunes and eventually reach the beach. Cause one thing leads to another. Hey! If this is up then I'm up, but you're running out of sight. You've seen your name on the walls. And when one little bump leads to shock, miss a beat. You run for cover and there's heat, why don't they... Sorry, I felt we could all use an 80's Fixx.

Anyways, we finally reach the beach. And since most folks who visit the island tend to stick to the trails, we had the entire beach to ourselves. Miles and miles of deserted beach. Do not go where the path may lead; go instead where there is no path and leave a trail. ~Ralph Waldo Emerson

Speaking of leaving a trail - after about a mile, we saw hoof prints in the sand.

Which we followed...

By the time we reached the access point for the campgrounds we were more than ready for a break. The path leading to the campsite has an amazing oak cover. Check it:

After we'd emptied our shoes of beach sand, had us some snackage (note to self - tell Paula to pack her own damn Cheez-Its next time), and hit the bathrooms, I sucked some air on a nearby picnic table.

Gaining our second wind, we crossed through the campgrounds and followed the Parallel Trail north. It was on this trail that we realized armadillos are Cumberland Island's squirrel. They're everywhere! At one point Paula had to caution me to slow down because I was about ready to step on one of the lil' buggers.

My speed bump:

We followed the Parallel Trail up to the crossroads for Greyfield Inn. If you're unfamiliar with Greyfield, it's "a grand and graceful mansion located on Georgia's Golden Isles on the state's southernmost coastal island, Cumberland Island." Yeah... yeah... yeah. All you really need to know is that rooms go for $400-$600 per night and it can't be seen from the road. Unacceptable! So...

Do not go where the path may lead; go instead where there is no path and leave a trail. ~Ralph Waldo Emerson

Determined to catch a glimpse of Muffy and Biff partaking in afternoon tea, Paula and I go cross country. Nothing! Nada! Zip! That freakin' inn is more hidden than the fine print on a Michael's coupon!

Deflated and dejected, we head back towards the dock in order to catch our return ferry. Along the way we take two slight detours - one by way of the Sea Camp Ranger Station and the other through the Ice House Museum. With about fifteen minutes left before our ferry arrives, we take a seat under some oak trees along the shore. As we're relaxing and reliving the days' activities, our last wild horse strolls into view. Beautiful.

St.Mary's / Cumberland Island - Part 2

2009-12-03T17:08:00.001-05:00

We awoke the next morning to sunlight beaming through our plantation shutters and the scent of pastries and freshly brewed coffee wafting upstairs. I was a little disappointed that there were no bluebirds or mice in little vests about to help me dress, but I didn't dwell.

We dressed quickly, gathered our gear and walked across the street to the ferry office. Once we had our tickets in hand, we grabbed a quick but hearty breakfast at the Riverside Cafe. Very good food but strange-assed artwork. All of the cafe's walls were decorated with creepy Suessified painted masks. They listened in on our conversation, they read the menu over our shoulders and I swear I heard the green one ask, "you gonna eat that?" I raised my butter knife in a threatening manner towards The Grinch That Stole My Omelet.

Shortly thereafter, we boarded the ferry for the 45 minute trip over to Cumberland Island. We staked out the best seats, donned our sunglasses, and got our cameras at the ready as the ferry set sail. Three minutes later we're two shivering, frozen masses huddled on the bench, vigorously rubbing two beef jerky sticks together in an effort to start a fire. Who knew that an early morning boat ride in November would be so freakin' cold?!

Once we discussed which passengers we'd eat if the ferry were to... say... hit an iceberg, therefore, leaving us all stranded on the freezing waters of the St.Marys; we docked. I still contend that chubby toddler in the red windbreaker would have been much better eating than the chick with the saddlebag thighs.

Anyways, we start off on the path that leads to the Dungeness ruins. It is on this path that we encounter our first pair of wild horses. Beautiful.

We continue on to Dungeness - which is where Paula took this photo of me:

There were signs posted everywhere asking us not to stand or sit on the brick wall (Hello! The Dungeness "ruins"!), and since I live to follow rules, I popped a squat. My doing so allowed hundreds of thorny sand spurs the opportunity to attach themselves to my backside. Weeks later I'm still feeling the wrath of those lil' buggers! You ask me, they'd be better off posting signs about the the dangers of ass spurs.

Carefully avoiding a steaming pile of horse dung (see pic above), we took a short trek down to the Dungeness cemetery to where General Light House Harry Lee was once buried. His grave site now bears a marker explaining that his remains were moved to the Lee family crypt in Lexington, Virginia in 1913. From the cemetery, we traveled the Nightingale Trail towards the dunes and beach. Along the way we encountered a herd of stampeding turkeys. Gaggle? Flock? A bit of googling informs me that a group of turkeys is actually called a 'rafter'. What the... ?! Herd is much better. The Turkey Herd:

We're half way through the dunes when we realized that I'd inadvertently left my water canister sitting on the Dungeness wall. It's important to mention that there's nowhere on the island to purchase food or water. Visitors are instructed to carry any provisions and supplies they may require during their stay. Paula's reaction to my water situation:

~cue ominous music~

(to be continued)

St.Mary's / Cumberland Island - Part 1

2009-11-25T10:00:00.002-05:00

Our adventure begins at the Riverview Hotel in St. Mary's, Georgia. We chose this particular hotel because of its proximity to the Cumberland Island ferry, its history and its supposed hauntings. We're both suckers for a good ghost story!

So, we were in the process of registering at the front desk when a kid on a Big Wheel passes through the lobby behind us. Paula and I look at one another, basically to confirm we really just saw what we thought we saw. Then the kid passes through again. I don't believe the owners realize that their son Big Wheelin' through a reputedly haunted hotel may be an unsettling image for some guests; but we definitely had the feeling of being trapped within a scene from The Shining. Redrum. Redrum. Redrum!

We are given the keys to our room, the Roy Crane - named after an American comic strip cartoonist that once stayed at the hotel. As we tote our bags up the stairs, Paula snaps this photo of me. Before I continue, it's necessary to explain that Paula wants to believe in everything, whereas I will only believe after I've exhausted all other possible explanations. She insists she's captured an orb in this photo. I insist she's captured proof that the hotel employs a crack housekeeping staff.

This is our room and we loved it! Not only was it charming and comfortable, but we also had an amazing view of the St. Mary's River.

Once we'd unpacked, we decided to go explore the city. Before leaving, however, Paula took a moment to pull out a sheet of paper and a pen, place them on the nightstand and then say, "Mr. Crane, if there's anything you'd like to share with us...", and then we left. When we reached the lobby, I claimed I'd forgotten my extra camera batteries and returned to the room. I quickly doodled a decapitated stick person (bearing a strong resemblance to Paula) and the words GET OUT on the paper she'd left for Mr. Crane's ghost. I then rejoined Paula in the lobby.

We spent the next several hours exploring all the quaint shops and historical places in the small town. We discovered one shop that sold homemade fudge and 'bout near ate ourselves into a sugar coma. Everyone we encountered was so friendly! We didn't pass one person who didn't take a moment to smile or greet us in some manner. Since St. Mary's is such a small town, a lot of the locals make use of golf carts for getting around. This nice fellow and his furry buddy actually stopped and offered us a ride. He explained that he was the designated driver since his buddy in back already had a bit too much to drink. We suggested some hair of the dog for later.

We ran into another gentleman down by the water's edge who was very popular with all the pigeons. He hands us each a big chunk of bread and invites us to join him. Ten seconds later he announces, "I'm divorced." And we're off! Places to go, other people to see!

Three blocks down from the Pigeon Pick Up Artist, we discovered Oak Grove Cemetery. There was a very large angel that stood over two different graves marked with "My Husband" and nothing more. I found it very intriguing so I took this photo:

Later I learned that the wife of these two men had a reputation with locals as being a Black Widow. After her second husband's death, she had the statue erected and left the city, never to return. According to local legend, the angel changes positions and glows on the dark night of a new moon. And if photographed, a ring of faces will be seen surrounding her. Well, damn the luck! No ring of faces for me... just a lens flare. Still makes for a cool pic though.

Speaking of cool pics, I took this photo as we were walking back to our hotel. Have I mentioned how much I loved St. Mary's?

Back in our room, while Paula is attempting to further communicate with the doodling spirit, I attempt to take a shower. But there's no hot water, only cold. I inquire at the front desk and am told, "just turn it on and let it run for about 15 minutes... it'll turn hot." Fifteen minutes! My environmentally conscious heart weeps. Fearing it will explode if I inquire about their recycling program, I return to our room, take a cold shower and retire for the night.

(to be continued)

Trailer Park Collectibles

2009-11-18T21:03:00.000-05:00

Four words describe Trailer Park Collectibles - Best Antique Store EVER!

This past weekend, Paula and I made a slight detour (long story, don't ask) and ended up in Fernandina Beach. Fernandina Beach's historic district is comprised of over 50 city blocks filled with unique eateries, art galleries, boutiques and quaint shops. The quaintest (and our personal fave) being Trailer Park Collectibles. Initially, it was the name that sucked us in - I mean, who wouldn't want to go to a place called Trailer Park Collectibles?! But once we were inside, it took almost two hours (and a gentle nudge from the management) for us to leave.

They had an entire section of vintage clothing and accessories. Hello Retro! I really should have purchased that mink stole. It'd be perfect for chilly movie theatres or browsing the freezer section at the Piggly Wiggly.

But it was the back room, with wall to wall vinyl records, lava lamps, vintage rock posters and tees that had us squealing like tweenagers at a Jonas Brothers concert. We flipped through those old albums for the better part of an hour, getting excited when we found an old fave, singing, goofing off and reminiscing. It was then that we unearthed the holy grail... Rick Springfield's 1972 debut album, Beginnings. Oh, how I puffy-hearted Rick Springfield.

Now if you'll excuse me, I need a moment to revisit my youth...

Kid Stuff

2009-11-10T18:01:00.003-05:00

Can you believe Sesame Street is 40 years old today!? Seriously. Growing up, I was a huge fan of the show. No you don't understand, I mean HUGE! I was very fond of the Cookie Monster, Count and Kermit. But my favorite character was always Grover. And now that I've spent a good portion of this very evening watching old clips on You Tube, I understand why I loved Grover so much. He's absolutely golden! Watch this classic clip and try to tell me you don't get a good chuckle from ol' Grover... particularly at the 1:06 mark.

***

I'm a few days late in sharing this, but it's appropriate for the post. I get a lot of text messages from my niece, Chelsea. And I secretly love it. Some of them are incredibly random - a girl after my own heart. But I think it's pretty neat that she likes to share things with me, as random as they may be. Does this mean that she considers me the cool aunt? I think so! I'm golden!

Anyways, I received this picture text Halloween night:

Look at all my candy!
CHELLYBELLY:)

***

My friend, Mel, was shopping in a scrapbook store with her son, Nich, when they saw a line of papers that was very retro. Mel commented, "that would be the perfect paper for Julie." And Nich matter-of-factly stated that they should buy it for me.

That Nich... he's a good kid. I've always liked him.

A few seconds passed and Nich said, "Never mind that, Mom. I think I need a new Lego set instead."

That Nich... he's a rotten punk!

***

0:36 "Work it out for yourself froggy. We did."

Golden, I tell ya! Golden!

Happy News!

2009-11-09T07:20:00.009-05:00

I'm very pleased to announced that I've been invited to be a Contributing Artist with Ideas for Scrapbookers. Yes, me! Someone actually considers me an artist! (I have this overwhelming urge to rush out an purchase a painter's smock and a jaunty little beret.) Anyways, the site was created by everyone's favorite scrap artist, Pam Callaghan, as a resource for obtaining templates, tutorials, digital items and ideas. If you're unfamiliar with Ideas for Scrapbookers check it out:

The thought of sharing some of my ideas and tutorials with others is exciting in itself, but the best part of all? The amazing group of artists that I'll be working alongside. I've been a fan of all of them for quite some time now - and am even fortunate enough to call a few of them friends.

Susan Goetter
Delaina Burns
Danielle Holsapple
Heather Landry
Sarah De Guzman
Melanie Holzwarth

And since Pam is everyone's favorite scrap artist, her close friend Heidi Sonboul, from over at GCD Studios has announced a "Pam Challenge". You can read the details of the challenge on GCD's blog - here.

Both Susan and I, still reeling with excitement and eager to celebrate, got together this past weekend and did a bit of scrappy shopping. This would be us reeling. Susan is hiding behind her bag because she's wearing her Frankie Says Relax shirt. My I'm With Stupid tee was at the cleaners.

Laugh Lines

2009-11-05T06:30:00.003-05:00

Well it's the 5th of the month again, which means it's the day that I post all of my work for My Creative Scrapbook and tell you what a fabulous job Pam did pulling the kits together. That Pam is one awesome lady. As a matter of fact, there's a shiny gold star next to her name in Julie's Slam Book. Other entries have angry faces and expletives doodled next to them, but we shall not discuss them at the moment - right now it's all about Pam, her shiny gold star and how much I loved working with My Creative Scrapbook's Album Kit.

So as I stated, it's the 5th of the month. More precisely, the 5th of November. Which means I've been forty for a full 169 days now. And I'm cool with it. Really! Admittedly, I'm not thrilled with the grey hairs that keep popping up in my temples or the laugh lines that have set up permanent residence around my eyes. But you're only as old as you feel, right? And I feel awesome!

(click on any image to enlarge)

Time Flies...

... when you're having fun.

Growing old is mandatory, growing up is optional.

In every person there's an inner child that wants to go outside and play.

Wrinkles should merely indicate where a smile has been.

Enjoy the little things, for one day you may look back and realize they were big things.

***

After completing the album, I still had tons of stuff left over so I created this layout also.

The quote I chose for the title is so perfect for these two guys! So many stories to tell! But here are a few of the best...

A homeless man approached Brian one day and asked him if he could spare a dollar. Dimwittedly Brian said, "Sure. Can you break a ten?"

After climbing into the front seat of a friend's car and noticing the window tinting, Brian questioned if the windshield was prescription glass.

During Brian's last visit here, I kicked his butt on Wii bowling. To elaborate, I kicked his butt, gloated about doing so, then retired to bed. He stayed up all night trying to beat my score! I woke up the next morning to a red-eyed Brian complaining of a sore arm, legs and back. Wiitard.

Lucky for Brian he's got a pretty face.

~pinches cheeks~

Ladies - he's still single! Shocker.

And then there's Jim...

As a teenager, Jim pulled into a handicapped parking spot. When he got out of the car, a stranger approached and asked, "Are you handicapped?" Jim smarted back, "No... is there a prize?"

Remember TV POW? TV POW was a kid's television show from the 70's that aired in the afternoons. Basically, kids would call in and play shoot 'em up Space Invaders type video games over the air. In order to fire at the alien spaceships, the kids would shout POW! This was all the ammunition Jim needed to fight against the evil Empire. In a full theatre, during the big battle scene at the end of Star Wars, Jim started shouting, "POW, POW, POW!"

Jim eventually joined the Marines, got married and had a kid (or two). Not quite sure where he is nowadays, but a lot of the stories from his youth definitely merit a gold star (or two) in my slam book.

The Weekend Wrap-Up

2009-11-01T12:54:00.009-05:00

So after calling into work Friday morning, stating that I was coming down with a flesh eating bacteria, the sniffles and a fever, my weekend had officially begun.

I showered, watched the news and then headed out for a cappuccino and a dozen donuts (starve a cold, feed a fever). Three hours later, the sugar had worn off and I found myself waking up in a ditch with donut glaze in my hair and the Krispy Kreme logo tattooed on my ass.

I crawled out of the ditch and into the nearest Stop N' Go, where I bought a farting pig key chain, a No Fat Chicks trucker cap, a Reggae Fever CD and a Slurpee. Anxious to show my purchases to someone who could appreciate their worth, I headed over to my friend Paula's house. I found her in the front yard burying a body. After explaining to her that it's usually best to do this sort of thing in the neighbor's yard, under the cover of night, she pointed out that the skeleton bones were plastic and part of a Halloween display. I offered to help her but she declined stating that she was almost finished. However, she would appreciate my assistance with a little matter in the neighbor's yard... after dark.

After we played with my key chain for a bit, we decided to hit one of the costume shops in town. We spent the next few hours modeling every hat, wig and prop in the place. And... ummm... to the nerd in the Flash costume, we're sorry. No, not really.

Paula's costume:

And mine:

Saturday

Pulled my donut endorsed ass out of bed to drive to Palatka and go boating with Dwayne and his family.

We traveled the St.Johns up through Dunns Creek and out to Crescent Lake. On the way back through, we docked at Corky Bell's for some lunch.

Now it may come as quite the shock, but I tend to be a bit "difficult" on occasion. And one of those occasions is when I order food at a restaurant. I'm a very picky eater and if the food is not prepared just so, I won't touch it. And oddly enough, I won't return a dish to the kitchen either. I have a fear of what the staff will do to my entree once they hear of my displeasure. But seriously, when a diner makes the following statement: "I like my fish dry. When you've cooked it to the point that you feel it's lost all moisture, cook it 10 minutes more." don't just roll the Incredible Mr. Limpet into cornmeal and then toss him on my plate! Deep fry his bespectacled fishy behind to the point that a dust cloud poofs out when I take a bite.

Sunday

I woke up this morning on the floor, still wearing my devil horns, surrounded by empty candy wrappers. Last thing I remember from the night before was my holding a full bowl of Halloween candy and hearing the doorbell ring. I don't recall ever answering the passive aggressive threat from the Trick or Treater's outside. Nor do I know what happened to the metric ton of Hershey's Miniatures that were in the bowl. However, I strongly believe all these empty wrappers may hold the clue.

Can I be frank with you?

2009-10-31T16:15:00.000-04:00

What?! You were expecting something more from this post?

It's freakin' Halloween! I've got candy to eat and children to scare - blogging can wait.

Have a great holiday! And remember... it's not any fun until someone puts an eye out.

Yummies!

2009-10-27T17:56:00.006-04:00

Meet Annabelle ~

Annabelle had a kissing booth at the Alachua Harvest Festival a few weekends ago. For $1 Annabelle gave away yummies (as her handler called them). All donations from the event went to benefit the Southeast Pug Rescue & Adoption (SEPRA). SEPRA is a not for profit organization that aids in placing lost, surrendered or abandoned pugs in loving, caring homes.

As you know, I'm a huge animal lover. I'm also a sucker for a pretty face. I've wanted a pug of my own for the longest time. Just waiting for 3 cats to visit the big litterbox in the sky. Kidding! I was not aware there was such an organization. The mere thought of a pug (or any animal for that matter) being abandoned, lost or unloved just breaks my heart. So if you get a moment, please visit their site. Even if you're not in a position to provide a home for a pug in need, you can become a virtual foster through donation.

Southeast Pug Rescue & Adoption

when I say I love you...

2009-10-24T15:56:00.004-04:00

... you say You BUTTER!
You Butter, You Butter, You bet!

The Who: Me & Paula

The Where: Leonardo's Pizza

The Why: A Girl's Gotta Eat

The When: This Afternoon

The What: Garlic Rolls with BUTTER! Lots 'o BUTTER!

When our waiter placed the basket on the table, Paula threw her arms in the air and Whoooooooo'd. I, in contrast, wept silent tears of joy.

Paula began to wax poetic.

'Tis BUTTER to have loved and lost...

Whereas, I expressed my affections through song.

Nobody does it BUTTER
Makes me feel sad for the rest
Nobody does it half as good as you
BUTTER, you're the best

Oh wait... it gets better...

BUTTER lovin' had me a blast
BUTTER lovin' happened so fast
Garlic roll, good as can be
Ate it whole, so buttery

Paula dabbled a bit on her wrists and behind each ear ~

And gave her lips a buttery sheen ~

And since I realize I have a problem, and am trying to break the addiction, the butter saturated basket liner is currently affixed to my upper arm... as a patch.

When I say I love you
You say you BUTTER!

You Butter, You Butter, You bet!

And since the tune is now stuck in your head...

Twitch List - Special Halloween Edition

2009-10-23T08:30:00.000-04:00

In honor of the upcoming holiday, 13 very frightening things that make my left eye twitch...

1. Raggedy Ann & Andy dolls. They freak me the hell out!

2. Lizards.

3. Tomatoes. (discussed in an earlier installment of Twitch List)

4. Green nail polish. What possesses someone to paint their fingers and toes Fungus Infection Green?

5. Men who wear gold chains and pinkie rings.

6. Those giant wind sock monsters that car dealerships are so fond of.

7. The sound of Stevie Nicks' voice.

8. Gold Lame' (even if you are Elvis, and awesome in every way, you look ridiculous).

9. Apple flavored anything.

10. School fund raisers which require my buying overpriced wrapping paper or a metric ton of cookie dough. Little Susie can't read and write, but she can sell door to door.

11. Anyone over 10 years of age wearing a Tweety Bird tee shirt.

12. Pennywise.

13. Lighting the grill.

Well I've managed to freak myself out compiling this Twitch List. If you need me for anything I'll be hiding under my bed, curled into fetal position, sucking my thumb.

Run Retro! Run!

2009-10-18T20:39:00.005-04:00

By now you should know me well enough to realize that this isn't going to turn out pretty.

I had just skipped over to the first rock when I heard, "Gator"!

There was no gator.

It was all one big hilarious joke.

If my friends weren't so darned fun to be around, I'd hate them.

This final picture was taken shortly after the incident and it's pretty obvious that all has yet to be forgiven. See the traces of hate still lingering about my eyes and how my hands are clenched so tightly that my knuckles are white.

Of course everything has now been forgiven.

Forgotten? That's another story...

my three suns

2009-10-17T08:30:00.000-04:00

It's way too nice a weekend to be cooped up in the house or camped out in front of the computer. So before I make tracks, and head off in search of adventure, I present you with the following photos.

Not sure what you're gonna do with them really. They serve no true purpose. I suppose you could print them out and use them as a coasters or perhaps level a wobbly table leg with them. But really, it is not my place to question what you do with the images or information I post on my blog (unless you happen to be a 33 year old Brazilian with a foot fetish and a penchant for my 12 year old niece; in which case, dude... ewww!) All I know is that they spoke to me on some level. And maybe they'll speak to you too. (But they won't be speaking to you on MSN Messenger, Mr. 33 year old Brazilian!)

Anyways, I snapped this photo from a hotel window in downtown Atlanta a few years ago. It was a complete fluke and I have absolutely no idea how I accomplished it. All I know is that it's pretty freakin' cool. It's kind of like I caught a glimpse into an alternate dimension or something. A dimension where I'm Queen! (A dimension where I've branded 'pervert' across the forehead of a 33 year old Brazilian then chained him in the town square to suffer beneath the scorching heat of the three suns.)

Believe it or not, I took this photo the very first day I bought my camera. I was anxious to use it, so I just walked out into the back yard and started snapping plants, birds, squirrels or whatever. Most of the other photos never made the cut, but this one looked so artsy fartsy I kept it.

This is another keeper from that very first back yard photo shoot. It's a southern jasmine vine and I find it amazing. Sure southern jasmine smells nice, and when it's in bloom it's very pretty. But when you really take the time to look you notice the curves, the color variation and the way the sun dances off the vine. There is beauty in everything - and everyone - if you look a little closer you may discover something amazing.

I never leave the house without a camera. My good camera is the one I take on trips or to special events, those times when I really want to ensure that I get the shot. That camera, however, is a bit bulky so I have a smaller one that I keep in my purse, which is also small enough to tuck into a pocket. And, of course, I have the camera on my cell phone. My point is, you may be stuck in the check out line at IKEA when a photo opportunity walks right past. You'll be happy to know that I managed to only trample two kids and one slow moving soccer mom in the quest to obtain this shot. Is he not the coolest Grampa ever?! I so wanna hang out with him and go bowling or something.

And yes, I'm aware that I post a lot of pictures of my kitties on my blog. Many of you may consider me some sort of lonely, pathetic woman with a house full of cats which I talk to and dress in funny little outfits. And you may be right.

I'm no different than any other girl. If it glitters or sparkles, I'm hooked. This is simply a table full of faux gems in a St. Augustine souvenir shop. Oooo... pretty...

Well my single sun is beckoning and I've got my camera in my back pocket. Adventure awaits! So I leave you with this -

There are no rules for good photographs, there are only good photographs. ~Ansel Adams

my favorite time of the year

2009-10-09T10:47:00.015-04:00

I absolutely love Autumn in Ohio. Without a doubt, it's my favorite season. I love the cooler weather, the changing colors of the landscape, the festivals, the spicy aromas, the holidays and the fashions!

But unfortunately, I'm not in Ohio. I'm here. Festering in Florida. Sweltering in the south. Oppressed. And ornery.

For a few brief days last week, our temperatures dropped into the mid-80's! The local news was calling it a cold front. Supermarkets and convenience stores started stocking firewood and Swiss Miss Cocoa mix sold out in record time.

I was tooling around in the back yard when I paused for a moment to wring the perspiration from my shirt, wipe the sweat from my forehead and pour a cooler of Gatorade over my head. And even though she listens to her TV at 'eardrum hemorrhage' level, and can't seem to hear when her two poodles are yapping outside at 5AM, my neighbor somehow heard me take a breather and felt I desired nothing more than her companionship. So she suited up in a poncho, slipper boots and a sheepskin trapper hat and shuffled over to the fence line. She then chattered on... and on... and on... about how chilly it was and that I'd surely catch my death if I didn't bundle up more.

I'm desperately trying to fill the void within the pit of my stomach that is homesick for Ohio. So I've put up some seasonal decorations, lit a Harvest Spice candle, cranked the AC to a 'brisk fall temperature', pulled on some cozy jammies and settled in with a few catalogs. Catalogs full of awesome fall fashions. Fall fashions that mock me. Taunt me. Fall fashions that I'll never wear. Boots in Florida? Get real. Plaid wool skirts? Puh-leeeze. Tights? I wish! Would you look at this:

If I were anywhere else but here, my Autumn adoring ass would be wearing it. I love it! It's so me! But for starters, my place of employment is very casual. I'm overdressed if I wear flip flops with sparkles or a tee shirt without a beer advertisement on the pocket. Secondly, if I were to show up in red tights, no matter how freakin' adorable those tights may be, my co-workers would assume I had a serious skin condition and they'd keep their distance.

Hey...

Maybe I should order those tights.

Adorable red tights and a houndstooth skirt do nothing to fill the empty void, but Spiced Pumpkin Cupcakes sure do!

Hello lover...

And I'll bet there's also room in the void for some of those Halloween Reese's cups I've been hoarding. You don't truly believe I'm going to hand them out to Trick-or-Treaters, do you? That's just krazy talk! If I'm lucky enough to have an entire bag of chocolate in the house, I'll be darned if I'm giving it away to some moppet schlepping a plastic pumpkin door-to-door. This bag's all mine!

I really do enjoy Halloween. As a matter of fact, it's one of my favorite holidays. I look forward to it all year long. October 31st is the only day out of the entire year that it's OK for me to scare children and make them cry.

Getting a Florida Trick-or-Treater to cry is easy. What I mean is - before they've ever thought of ringing my doorbell, they've trekked through darkened streets; the only available light source being that of bug zappers. They've heard dogs howling, an occasional gun shot and, in the distance, Dueling Banjos. The Spanish moss, which hangs in the trees, appears ghostly beneath the eerie glow of the moon. There are flying cockroaches so huge that they're mistaken for bats. The kids themselves are suffering from dehydration and heat exhaustion because they're cloaked in non-breathable plastic super hero costumes. By the time they ring my doorbell, they're nothing more than a tiny little package of Hysteria with a 'TO: RETRO' card attached.

Ohio kids are way tougher to break!

~sigh~

I love Autumn. It truly is my favorite time of the year. Even if I do have to spend it down here.

The Negligent Blogger

2009-10-05T17:05:00.007-04:00

Yes, yes... I know I've been pretty slack with my posts as of late. But I'm a busy girl. Busy, busy, busy! Like just last night I spent three hours weaving one of Sketch's fur balls into a pot holder. The evening before, I ran a bathtub full of cold water, added some ice blocks and floated around on a piece of Samsonite. I'll never let go, Jack. I promise. And, seriously, if I don't marathon watch all seven seasons of Gilmore Girls on DVD, who will?!

I did, however, manage to pencil some time into my busy schedule to work with My Creative Scrapbook's Album Kit for October. It required my letting go of Jack's cold, limp hand... but, eh, he was dead weight anyways.

The first layout is of my niece, Chelsea. Clearly, she inherited her Aunt Julie's sunny disposition.

Here we have another photo of Little Miss Sunshine. This time she's pictured with her older brother, Chase. Journaling reads, "I love these kids! They are such a joy to be around. They are witty, intelligent, outgoing, and enthusiastic about such a cool sampling of non-traditional teen interests that I feel so very lucky to be their aunt. How tweet it is, indeed!"

Who the heck wrote all that cheese? Perhaps I'd been floating in ice cold waters too long prior to penning those sappy words. They are cool kids though. And I do love them. I mean, I certainly wouldn't let go of them in icy waters... that is, unless they were thwarting my rescue.

And lastly, I dug out some snapshots from a side trip Dwayne and I took back in 2006 (during a week long adventure in the mountains). Journaling reads, "Well we saw Rock City. Been there... done that... bought the birdhouse. Next." Needless to say, I was less than thrilled with Rock City. And as you may suspect, I'm a virtual delight to be around when I'm bored, dripping with sarcasm and sweat, irritable, and nursing a day-glo painted gnome induced migraine. I truly believe I would've had a more enjoyable time at the World's Largest Ball of Twine.

So there ya go - some new scrappy creations and a new blog entry. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm pretty sure I saw The Heart of the Ocean circling the drain earlier.

even more lessons from my cats...

2009-09-29T18:16:00.010-04:00

Pictures don't lie and they don't add 10 pounds. Those 10 pounds were there all along.

When you get behind closed doors... check to make sure they're also locked.

Be creative! Always try to think outside the box.

Always try to remain focused and avoid unneccessary distracti... ooo... pretty lights.

Know how to spot a fake. Do you really want to shell out $200 for a Kate Spode or a Louise Vuitton?

Maintain a sense of enigma and mystique. Always keep them guessing about what's going to happen next.

To view previous lessons from my cats click here.

Extreme Sunbathing

2009-09-21T17:48:00.008-04:00

So? I'm accident prone. It's best to just consider life with me an adventure. There's never a dull moment. I'm fidgety, foolhardy and super inquisitive. My friends like to say that a day at the beach with me isn't complete until some blood has spilled. I've managed to turn 'Fun In The Sun' into a sport. An extreme sport. They've taken to calling my oceanside exploits, 'extreme sunbathing'.

After my recent performance of the beach chair water ballet I was awarded with an inflatable pair of water wings for my chair. Hardy har har. Yuck it up. I'm here for your amusement.

A few weeks later, I discovered a hole/cave which was in desperate need of exploration. Hello! Gold doubloons just don't find themselves! And... well... let's just say that my middle name is Anna... not Grace. Found a treasure trove of scrapes, bruises and cuts on my shoulder and leg:

Wow. That's certainly a weird angle on that photo. They laughed and laughed cause they all knew Julie had chicken legs.

Well we returned to the beach this past weekend and, if I'm nothing else, I'm always dependable. In less than an hour's time I was luring sharks inland with a crimson tide. Check out my left arm in the following shot:

So should I really be surprised that no one seems overly excited to do this with me?

Can't wait to see the looks on their faces when I drop the bomb that I want to go skydiving some day!

Beefcake

2009-09-19T23:27:00.002-04:00

Meet Beefcake. His friends call him Beefy. Beefy and I have been spending a lot of time together in recent months. I'm beginning to suspect, however, that Beefy has developed feelings for me.

He's always very excited to see me. And I'm told that he goes into a depression, of sorts, when I leave. Perhaps I've misled him into thinking I wanted to be more than friends when I invited him to snuggle up next to me on the couch. Or when we took that long walk on the beach. Then, of course, there was that time I rubbed his belly until his back leg started kicking.

I love Beefy. But I don't love Beefy. How do I tell Beefy that I just want to be his buddy? Well, I could state the obvious. The fact that he has back hair. Or maybe that he's just not my type. Too blond. Too short. I really don't want to hurt his feelings, but I could tell him that he's a horrible kisser. Slobbery, sloppy, tongue flopping all over the place. Besides, Dude... I just saw where you were licking. I don't want Beefy kissies!

But I really enjoy hanging out with him. We have so much fun together and he can always make me laugh. When I need 'unconditional love' he's always there to provide it. Beefy always lets me choose what we watch on TV, he never leaves the toilet seat up, and he doesn't bark orders at me. So should I just give in and toss the guy a bone?

What to do... what to do...

my girly side

2009-09-13T16:29:00.006-04:00

So I was scanning through radio stations today and immediately stopped upon hearing this song.

I'd never heard it before today and even though it's so not the type of song that normally sucks me in, I really like it. It's simple and sweet... and it speaks to my girly side.

Know what else speaks to my girly side?

This picture of Billie Joe:

Wait... maybe he's speaking to my girly parts. Anyways...

Speaking of Billie Joe ~sigh~, I managed to find the perfect papers to document the concert. So I cranked me up some Green Day and kicked out this layout:

Then I broke for pie. Mmmm... Pie. 'Cause pie is simple and sweet... and it also speaks to my girly side.

The Devil Wore Pink

2009-09-11T06:00:00.004-04:00

There are a few things I wanted to share with everyone today -

First of all, today would have been my father's 63rd birthday. Happy Birthday, Daddy!

And yes, that slack-jawed kid with the hair bow, soused in pink is me. Those pink trappings traumatized me in such a manner that I truly believe they're to blame for my sleepless nights and binge drinking. Plastered in Pink. The size of my ass. Pudgy in Pink. And, perhaps, many of my late night blog posts. Peculiar in Pink.

Anyway... moving on... I love reading blogs! And I especially love to read the following:

Lance Bass Ruined My Life

Jennsylvania - coincidentally, also one of my favorite authors

What Were You Thinking?

Wendi Aarons

Oh! Speaking of fun reads... I also stumbled across this book a while back. It's called Secret Recipes for the Modern Wife by Nava Atlas. Here's a sampling:

Souffle of Fallen Expectations
makes 1 collapsed endeavor

8 large eggs, separated
3 pounds of long-standing myths about marriage, derived from film, fiction and women's magazines
Several drops of strawberry-flavored essence
1/2 cup heavy cream, or enough to make you feel fat and guilty
1/4 cup sugar
Disillusionment, as needed

Separate the yolks from the whites of the eggs, just as now you are finally separating fantasy from reality. Throw the yolks away, then regret wasting them.

Whip the whites into a frenzy, then stir in all the myths you've acquired about marriage from childhood up the to present moment. Gently fold in the realization that most of these cultural narratives are fictions. Add the strawberry flavoring to forestall the taste of the inevitable disappointment, along with the cream and sugar. Bake in a hot oven until the souffle is inflated beyond reasonable expectations.

Remove from the oven and watch as the souffle deflates. Allow yourself to feel disillusioned.

Begin to recognize that for all the effort you put into this dish, there isn't much to show for it. Decide whether it's worth trying to salvage, or better just to throw the whole thing away.

Lastly, I believe this get-up is the reason I'm always so cranky. Petulant in Pink.

we're both nuts

2009-09-08T18:56:00.011-04:00

My niece got very angry at her mom the other day after being told to clean her room, put away her laundry and other similar forms of abuse. (Fear not, Chelsea. I've already put a call into Child Protective Services upon your behalf.) Anyways, in the heat of the moment she shouted that she was going to run away. So she goes upstairs, packs a duffle full of designer duds, dons a ski parka (planning ahead - that mean ol' mama didn't raise no fool) and stomped out the front door. She returned less than 10 minutes later stating that she needed to use the computer. Apparently she needed to Mapquest the best route to Grandma's house.

This is a good look for me, right?

In addition to the way stylish hat, I'm also a true southern lady. When inhaling a bag of hot boiled peanuts during a road trip this past weekend, I didn't dribble any salty water on my shirt. I also kept my pinky fingers raised while I slurped the nuts out of the shells. When my traveling companion asked to share my peanuts, I made sure to cover my mouth in a very lady-like manner before belching, "Heeeell Noooo".

the sweetest love story ever written

2009-09-05T07:00:00.002-04:00

My Creative Scrapbook has just revealed their latest round of kits. Normally at this time of the month, I'm posting images of projects I've assembled using their Creative Kit. That, however, will not be the case this time around. Thankfully, the owner of My Creative Scrapbook, Pam, knows how incredibly fond I am of all things girly, pink and floral (cough cough); which September's Creative Kit just so happens to be rolled, battered & deep fried in - so she was kind enough to send the Album Kit in its place. Thank you Pam. I'll be sure to contact Donnie "The Cutter" Greco after the holiday and call off the hit.

September's Album Kit is loaded with Jillibean Soup papers, really fun school themed embellishments and a 7 Gypsies album. The contents are perfect for documenting what is, in my opinion, one of the sweetest love stories ever written - the story of how Dwayne's parents, Gerald and Nancy, met and fell in love. In order to fully appreciate the journaling that is contained within the album, I need to explain where it came from.

Sadly, Nancy passed away last year. And whenever I question Gerald about certain dates or events he'll give me answers to things I never asked.

Thanks for showing me how to change out that alternator belt, Gerald. But what I really wanted to know is if you recognize the person in this photo.

Well now. That is good information to know for the next time I should find myself hunting wild boar. So about this photo...

I was not aware that RC Cola was created by a Georgia pharmacist. No. No Moon Pie for me, thanks. But, Gerald... focus... the photo...

So it's very fortunate for the family that Nancy, as a very young bride, fresh out of high school, made a handwritten account in the front of their wedding album, of how she and Gerald came to be.

Since I was working with a school theme, I really wanted what she wrote to be on notebook paper. So I made a photocopy of her journaling from the wedding album. Then I trimmed the photocopied journaling into strips and glued those strips onto a sheet of regular notebook paper. Then I made another, clean copy for use in the school album. Click images to enlarge.

Nancy's Journaling: The first time I ever heard of or saw Gerald was on October 1, 1959. I was only thirteen years old and he was sixteen. His car wasn't running one morning so he had to ride our school bus.

As he stepped on the bus, my girlfriend told me to look at him and tell her if I thought he was cute. I told her I didn't think he was any living doll but that he looked alright.

Nancy's Journaling: Anyway, he started riding the bus regularly and one day I was the last one on the bus. There weren't any seats left except with Gerald so I asked to sit down.

Then he started saving me seats every day...

Nancy and Gerald had been married over 45 years at the time of her passing. It's a rare thing for people who've been together as long as Nancy and Gerald were to still hold hands and call one another "babe". They were very sweet together and for a cynic such as myself it's extremely comforting to know that great loves aren't only found in children's fairy tales or Nora Ephron movies.

Well... mobsters to call, wild boar to hunt. Have an awesome holiday weekend. Retro out!

More lessons from my cats

2009-09-03T17:37:00.011-04:00

Perhaps a sit up every now and again might not be such a bad idea.

Attempting to squeeze oneself into items which are clearly too small will only succeed in drawing further attention to ones problem areas.

Glance in the mirror on occasion and always carry a tissue.

Spying on the crazy-azzed neighbors is always more fun with a partner in crime.

Don't be an emotional scaredy-cat. If you care for someone, express it.

Try to keep a spare house key hidden somewhere outside.

To view previous lessons from my cats click here.

Technologically Speaking

2009-09-01T16:43:00.014-04:00

I've recently been informed it's no longer acceptable to just scribble a message on a sheet of notebook paper, wad it into a tight ball, and chunk it at the head of the intended recipient.

Which may explain why everyone always seems to mark the 'no' box on my "do you like me, check yes or no" messages.

Anyways, I went to the Verizon store to upgrade my old cell phone (Playskool's Model PC O SH1T) for one of those new highfalutin' phones. The pubescent salesman was all aflutter pointing out its many features - touch screen, 3.2 mega pixel camera/camcorder, full HTML browser, multimedia capabilities and a QWERTY keyboard. Qwerty? What the hell's Qwerty? Oh... I get it. These young kids with all their street lingo. So I cross my arms and strike my best gangsta pose before agreeing, "That keyboard is way qwerty! Ginchy. Keen. Neat-o.

I'm cool.

I'm hip.

I'm happening.

And I now possess a cell phone that I have absolutely no idea how to operate.

Took me two days to figure out how to maneuver the touch screen. There were times I'd have my contact list scrolling by so fast I'd feel like I was on a game show, spinning the big prize wheel, clapping and chanting "Come on big money! Big money!" If the scrolling stopped anywhere even remotely close to the entry I was seeking - JACKPOT!

I'm pretty good about making actual calls now. There were a few incidents in the beginning - like thinking I were placing my finger on one contact, only to be touching another. I'm all for reaching out and touching someone, but it's important to double check that you're caressing the correct person instead of stroking the guy next to him. Grandmas don't really like hearing, "What up, slut?" when they answer their phones.

And just the other day my new phone made a funny sound - a little tune which I'd never heard before. After a series of unsuccessful strokes to the touch screen (I feel so dirty) and consulting my user's manual (since whispering sweet nothings also failed), I learned I had a text message from my brother. A text message? What the hell, Jeff? Are you a 13 year old boy? So using my way qwerty keyboard I replied. Granted, it took me about 10 minutes to figure out how to do so, but I did it. Less than 30 seconds later, pre-teen Jeffie texted back. Ghah! Dude... you have the phone IN YOUR MIDDLE-AGED HANDS! This conversation could go a lot faster if we, oh I don't know, actually spoke into the little talky holes. But I'm a cool, hip, happening kind of sister so I continued to indulge Jeffie in his textcapades. I figure that during my next visit, we'll spend an evening together watching High School Musical and singing into our hairbrushes. That Zach Effron is sooo dreamy.

Actually, I'm slowly learning to embrace the whole texting thing. I'm just one of those rare individuals who prefers to express my thoughts in complete and grammatically correct sentences. My spending twenty minutes trying to decipher what TTYL means is in no way a better form of communication. Besides, "bye" is 3 letters as opposed to the 4 used to text TTYL. And don't even get me started on LOL. Let me make this very clear. If any of you ever text me and proclaim LOL, so help me, I will do everything within my power next time you're in my presence to publicly embarrass your eye-twitch inducing butt. And then I'll further mock you by pointing and shouting LOL! LOL! You think I'm kidding? Don't make me bring up the Olive Garden plate-licking incident of 2006. Feel free to use WTF though. Cause chances are pretty good I've been mumbling those exact sentiments the entire time we've been texting.

why I hate the mall

2009-08-27T12:50:00.016-04:00

I swear the mall here in town is gonna burn to the ground one night when I just happen to have an air-tight alibi!

This whole story begins with my needing a fresh pedicure... cause nothing screams Klass quite like chipped toe polish and flip-flops. And since I have no grand desire to reign Queen of the Qwicky Mart, I make myself an appointment at the nail salon located inside the mall.

I enter the mall through Macy's side entrance and proceed towards the front of the store. This takes me on a path directly through the make-up and perfume counters. As I draw near, an overly made-up, white-jacketed sentry steps into my path wielding a jasmine and sandalwood spray vial of death. She attempts to mist me - but for a chubbette, I'm freakishly spry - and I manage to dodge her noxious attack. Just then I hear a tsk, tsk, tsk. Glancing at the source, the clown-faced snob behind the make-up counter glaring disdainfully down her pancaked nose at me, I'm caught off guard and the sentry takes another shot. Ghah! I'm hit! I stagger into a display and yell, "Shopper Down! Shopper Down!"

An older woman, who's been browsing in the purses & accessories nearby, attempts to rush to my aid. The sentry sees her approach and frantically fires off several shots from her evil vial. I scream, "Noooo! Save yourself!" But it's already too late. The area has been blanketed with a mist so heavy that the only hope for survival is to crouch low to the floor, where there's still breathable air. I do so, and realize that I'm also concealed from view by the perfume cloud, so I get on my belly and do a military-like crawl out of Macy's and into the mall.

Or Carnival. Carnimall. I'm now face to face with an endless row of kiosks and carnie folk trying to sell me overstuffed beanbag chairs, hair extensions, foam air gliders, knock-off designer fragrances (Noooooooo!) and sunglasses. I'll admit I almost pay $2 to see the Bearded Fat Lady sing until I realize she's actually an employee at the Dippin' Dots Ice Cream kiosk. So I continue on...

... and get sucked into Spencer's Gifts. I'm so ashamed. Anyways, I start looking at all of the tee shirts - on a quest to find a Green Day - cause clearly my life will not be complete until I have a shirt that I will never wear. But I can't find one, which seems odd considering the new album and all. So I approach the pierced and afflicted youth of America manning the register and inquire if she knows of any in the store. Clearly my taste in music is very offensive to Miss Fall Out Boy with all of her faux-angst because she responds in a very condescending manner that if there are any, they'd be on the clearance racks in the back. Now, let me get this straight. Miss I-just-finished-stocking-rubber-throw-up-and-Whoopee-Cushions is giving me attitude? I'm this close to ripping the stud from her snide bottom lip when I remember that I'm an adult. So instead I tell her all about the awesome sale on earrings that I saw down at Macy's - just on the other side of the perfume counter.

After updating the giant scoreboard in my head (me vs them), I stroll into the nail salon. I'm kicked back in the massage chair, enjoying the treatment when my nail tech tries to convince me that I need a brow waxing, emphasizing her point by wrinkling her nose and saying "shaggy". Excuse me?! These brows are not shaggy! Persons with anal retentive tendencies do not have shaggy brows! In my head I stab her with tweezers and call her many hateful things, but in reality I politely decline. She responds by shaking her head as though I'm making a huge mistake.

As I'm paying for my pedi, she tries one last time to harness the beast that is apparently my brow line. I consider arching up the beast in a very menacing manner and informing her that perhaps, after the next lunar cycle, when it's once again safe for a cave dweller such as myself to be out amongst the beautiful folk, I'll consider it. But instead I recommend that she check out the awesome sale on make-up down at Macy's.

This is it?! This?!

2009-08-24T17:40:00.014-04:00

So just like any other weekend, Paula and I are sitting in our beach chairs with the water washing over us. We like to put our chairs in the water - it's a little trick I picked up in the Caribbean. Like this:

Anyways, to continue - we were kicked back in our chairs enjoying all the fantastic waves that were rolling in (courtesty of Hurricane Bill), and all the cute little surfer dudes around us when Paula decided that she needed a smoke break. Watchin' surfer dudes is hard work, ya know.

So Paula takes off for the shore and leaves me on surfer watch. Then, out of nowhere, this HUGE wave washes in and takes Paula's chair with it. I try to grab for her chair only to end up losing mine in the process. The wave ends up pulling me and the two beach chairs under and mangles us about (my arms ended up twisted in the chairs). Then the current propels us down the beach several yards before, luckily, slamming us into a rock.

As funny as it sounds, it was scary! I'm a pretty cool & calm person normally. But the feeling of being trapped within the tangle of chairs really sent me into a sort of panic. In that panicked state, it was almost impossible to fight the current. As badly banged up as I am right now from hitting the rock (I have bruises, cuts and scrapes on my back and on my arms), I shudder to think that I could have drowned had the rock not stopped me.

But here's the strange/funny part. People claim that a person's life will flash before their eyes right before they die. Wanna know what was running through my head? This is it?! This is how I'm going to die? This?! Woman gets tangled in beach chair and drowns. Autopsy reveals she had Funyun breath and was too lazy to shave any higher than her knees that morning.

Believe it or not, Paula has the entire thing on film (and no, I won't be posting the photos). She didn't realize what was going on - from her vantage point on shore it was funny and just looked like me being a doof. Once she saw me hit the rock, however, she knew it wasn't a doofus attack and that I was hurt.

Back on dry land we took stock of my injuries and noticed that I'd lost my "Life Is Good" hat during the ordeal. And no, the irony is not lost on me.

Life is good! Every day is an adventure - don't let this be it. One day your life will flash before your eyes. Make sure it's worth watching.

Nearsighted & Dimwitted

2009-08-18T15:48:00.008-04:00

So I'm sitting in my car the other day during lunch, enjoying a king sized Snickers and a Yoo-Hoo (ummmm... correction... low sodium turkey on wheat and a green tea), when I get the feeling that someone is watching me.

I put down my book and cautiously take in my surroundings. Nice, safe, tree-covered bank parking lot. A few cars at the drive thru and normal traffic in and out of the branch office. Nothing seems unusual, but I just can't seem to shake the feeling of being watched.

And then I spot him! On the far side of the parking lot, hidden in the bushes, leaning against the fence, is a man. He's just standing there, watching me, looking all shifty... clearly up to no good. And I believe he knows that I've spotted him because he's remaining completely still - motionless - like a deer caught in the headlights.

I slowly reach down to make sure my doors are locked. Next I grab my purse and, ever so slyly, move it onto the floorboard. Then in one swift motion, I throw my book onto the backseat, start the car and zoom out of the parking space, spilling my drink in the process. Once in motion I realize that I can't see to drive, so I locate my glasses which had been laying in the passenger seat (I always remove my glasses for close work, like reading) and look towards the guy so that I'll be better able to describe my would-be attacker to the police.

My smiling attacker. An attacker who's concerned about my financial security. An attacker who's offering me free checking. Yes, it turns out that the motionless fellow in the bushes was nothing more than some random guy on a bank advertisement. A "free checking" flag banner which the bank had attached to the fence behind a row of shrubbery. He's wearing a nice, bright smile and a 'you can trust me' cardigan sweater.

He looked shifty... clearly up to no good. And the &@$+@^# made me spill my Yoo-Hoo!

What I learned this past week...

2009-08-12T15:55:00.005-04:00

Thursday –
It is impossible to look cool while doing the spider web dance and screaming, “GET IT OFF ME, GET IT OFF ME!”

Friday –
When faced with using a disposable razor that’s been rusting in the shower for a week or having hairy legs… go with Sasquatch gams every time. Otherwise there will be vertical slashes, spaced an even 2” apart, running the entire length of your legs. And as an added bonus, you will also require a series of tetanus shots because of the tiny rust chips embedded within each silky smooth slash.

Saturday –
The fastest and most effective way to quelch that "I must be lookin’ pretty good, 'cause everyone is staring" arrogance is to glance down and notice the 3 foot length of toilet paper trailing from your left shoe.

Sunday –
Folks don’t really like it when you do a victory lap around the table after earning a pie wedge in Trivial Pursuit.

Monday –
Don’t pour hot bacon grease into a plastic measuring cup

Yesterday –
When spraying Pledge onto dust rag, ensure that it’s actually hitting the rag and not misting onto wood flooring below. Under cover of night and en route to bathroom, attempting to shuffle in socks over inadvertently Pledge’d wood flooring, may be hazardous to ones health.

And lastly, today –
Apparently I’m ill-humored and sarcastic. Shocker.

The Fur-minator

2009-08-09T10:45:00.005-04:00

Hunter/Killer Program established. Cloaking Device activated.

Searching... Searching... Searching...

Human target has been acquired. Initiate Termination Sequence.

Sugar High-Heels

2009-08-08T12:15:00.003-04:00

Please excuse the quality, or actually the lack thereof, in most the following pictures. But trust me when I say that I do have a very good excuse.

Apparently the combination of 6000 empty calories...

2 good friends...

and 1 kick-ass shoe store...

... results in the following post.

I fell in love with these shoes! And if I were made of money ('cause gee, $140... what a deal!), and actually had somewhere to go on a Saturday night, other than the Piggly Wiggly, they would have been mine. ~sigh~ Just look at them... they're beautiful.

But wait... what is that I see sparkling in the distance?

Ooo La La! Fancy Schmancy!

Then the sugar kicked in. And things began to get... ugly.

I'm not kidding when I say that these sandals actually made my ankles sweat. And why, exactly, is there a need for an ankle cuff anyways? Are these sandals made for those with cankles? Folks who are trying to hide an unfortunate ankle tattoo? And why do I have this overwhelming urge to rush off and deliver a bouquet of flowers?

Security escorted us off the premises after this pair. I'm not quite sure what pushed them to such drastic measures. It may have been my butterfly dance in the middle of the sock section. Felicia disagrees. She's positive it was the bootie shake over the floor mirrors that had them making the call.

time of my life

2009-08-07T15:23:00.014-04:00

Hands down... or fists pumping... best concert I have ever been to! Green Day (oh heck, who are we really kidding here) BILLIE JOE put on the most amazing 2 hour plus music spectacle and I feel so very fortunate that I was one of the 18,000 fans in attendance. To quote reporter, Jim Abbott, from the Orlando Sentinel, "Mark it down: If you were there, you were witness to what ought to go down as one of the best arena-rock shows hereabout all year long."

To follow will be a random sampling of information and photos from the evening:

Dork that I am, I felt the need to take a pic of our shoes as we were heading out for the show. I'm in the treads, Felicia's in the boots (the boots which she will later blame for her Swamp Feet).

We were frisked as we entered the arena. They wouldn't allow us to enter with our cameras. Thankfully, however, Bottle Rockets and Cuban Cigars were permitted.

Felicia wore this bracelet:

When I first saw her bracelet, I questioned if it were constructed from the teeth of missing children and, if so, did she still have their beating hearts. Because apparently we're permitted to take those into the arena... just not our cameras.

Strangely enough and upon entering the building, we got our photo taken by an adorable stoner at the Verizon Wireless photo booth. He chatted us up for quite a while - asking about how long we'd been fans, our favorite songs, what we were wearing, our signs and if we liked Pina Coladas and getting caught in the rain. After having us pose for a few shots (and frisking us for snacks), Spicoli then gave us some souvenir cards with redemption codes on the backs. With those codes, we were able to go online and download our pictures for free. So that was a pretty cool. Granted, it didn't make up for the complete lack of Billie Joe pics I have now, but at least I have visual proof that I was "witness to what ought to go down as one of the best arena-rock shows hereabout all year long."

Oh, I made my tee shirt! Actually, Spicoli made a really big to-do about it. For those of you who aren't Green Day fans and don't understand, I'm the girl from Kerplunk, Green Day's 2nd album. And yes, I have a shot of me in the Kerplunk pose (holding my ticket instead of a gun) - you'll see it eventually on a layout - I plan to duplicate the album cover.

Felicia dyed her hair purple for the event. After jumping around and dancing all night, understandably, she worked up quite a sweat. A sweat which resulted in purple dye running down the back of her neck and staining her skin. Look closely at her ears in this shot (which I snapped as soon as we returned to the car) - they're purple!

I half expect the hotel to charge my card for damages - purple stained towels & bedding, a late night Ode to Billie Joe scratched into the wallpaper, a naked & passed out Spicoli in the bathtub and the lingering stench of Felicia's Swamp Feet.

Yes, we did have the time of our lives.

Feeling Froggy?

2009-08-05T10:00:00.000-04:00

Well it's the 5th of the month and, therefore, the date that My Creative Scrapbook reveals their latest round of kits. And in keeping with this time honored tradition, I shall now present you with my handy work from the Creative Kit. Pam loaded it with Making Memories Giggle Kids patterned paper and BoBunny & Prima goodies.

I really enjoyed working with this kit. Lots of bright, fun colors and very much my style. I also liked the fact that Pam pulled together a slightly more 'boy' themed kit than normal. It was a nice change of pace.

See my little ribbon froggy? Wanna know how I made him?

Depending on what size you want your lil' froggy to be will determine the lengths of the ribbon you use. For my example, the lengths of my ribbon are 10 inches and 13 inches.

For the legs & feet, take the 10 inch length of ribbon and fold the ends as shown. No need to be exact - the more goofy and lopsided, the better. We're going for whimsy here, folks.

Once you're happy with the results, pin them into place and set aside.

For the body use the longer length of ribbon and fold it over as shown below.

Loop it around again, slightly higher (again, we're going for whimsy - we don't want perfection).

Then wrap the ribbon around the "eyes" to form the "mouth". Be patient... this may take several tries, but you'll figure it out.

Then tuck the end behind and use a dab of glue (or a quick stitch) to hold in position.

Secure the body to the legs with a running stitch.

Knowing how much I love flowers (cough cough), it will come as no surprise that I cut off the petals to use as my froggy's tongue. Next I added some googly eyes (staples in any craft room)...

And POOF! Just like some fairy tale magic, you have your own little ribbon froggy. Don't bother kissing him. He won't turn into a Prince. Trust me.

***

Oh! And I just discovered that Pebbles, Inc has spotlighted my blog today. How cool is that?! It's like... Toadily cool! chuckle chort ~knee slap~ Yeah, I crack myself up sometimes. Anyways, check it out:

Pebbles, Inc

Did you read that whole part about me being an inspiration? Yeah, clearly someone has licked a few too many frogs in their day. Just sayin'...