You are currently browsing the category archive for the ‘bits’ category.
I was 8 when my mom was pregnant with my brother and bought him this antique dresser. I promptly informed her that a baby would not be able to appreciate this fine dresser and claimed it as my own.
My love affair with antiques actually began long before age 8, when I would wander through my grandparent’s house, trying to commit its entire contents to my memory.
However, this did mark the start of my claiming my mother’s things as my own, and she was helpless to stop it. She’s even more helpless to stop Ellis from “shopping” in her fridge, laughing as Ellis pulls out leftovers and dropping it into a bag and saying in her sing-song voice, We need this. Aaaand we need this. Aaaand we need this.
I love this dresser as much today as I did at age 8. It held my first pair of white Guess jeans with the little zippers up the back. My bff Jerusalem and I used it to mix a batch of chocolate chip cookies late one night because we didn’t want to wake up my family by using the kitchen.
The marks of a penny, a hairclip, and a scissors are burned into the surface from carelessly leaving them underneath whatever decorative cloth I had draped over its top.
And now the dresser is in Ellis’ room, and even though I tell myself it’s still my dresser, I am totally prepared for the day when she claims it as her own. I will outwardly protest and tell her that just because it’s in her room, that does not make it hers. And on the inside, I’ll be thinking, this is just how it should be.
I wonder what sort of memories Ellis will have of her dresser 25 years from now, what fashions it will hold, what marks will be left behind.
She may not remember how she used to “lock” her dresser pulls by flipping them up (to keep the cat out, of course), but I will. 
So I’m watching Giuliana & Bill and don’t even get me started on what’s wrong with that sentence. I know. But I’m watching Bill spend the evening with his nieces making friendship bracelets, the kind made from embroidery floss? Then they go around to a couple stores & sell them for, get this, $5 each! Really? That’s some profit margin, and I know this for fact because I’ve just started embroidering and embroidery floss is like, 37 cents each. Anyway, the store starts with a “small collection” and pays the girls $100. I’m thinking, how sweet. The store manager is supporting the girls, even though their asking price is a oh, a tad high.
During the little interview sessions Giuliana & Bill did together, Bill said he “might have made a few calls before going to the stores”. And I’m just not sure what to think of that. Again, I’m completely horrified that I’m A. watching Giuliana & Bill and that 2. I’M PUTTING THIS MUCH THOUGHT INTO GIULIANA & BILL.
My point is, what is teaching the kids really? They seemed like perfectly nice young girls, and they seemed genuinely surprised that they received $100 for their wares, but it was hardly realistic.
I’m just saying.
either that or she’s just on strike. 
and to add insult to injury, there was an avalanche early this morning that took out the hydro-electric towers leaving the town to rely on diesel generators for power. the electric company is estimating that our bills will be increased by 500% for the next few months while they repair the towers, and they aren’t even going to start repairs for at least a month. it sucked enough to pay $180 a month for electricity and we don’t even use our electric heat (which reminds me, I need to pay our oil bill), but to have that increased by 500%?? I could say, at least it’s coming up on summer when our electricity bill drops, but it’s not going to matter much this year. 
the only good thing about today? costco now carries Izze. yippee! I totally blame dooce for my Izze addiction, and although the 12-pack at costco doesn’t contain my favorite flavor, pink grapefruit, I’m still giddy. almost enough to make up for spending $200 at costco. 
EDITED: we woke up to 8 inches of snow this morning. excuse my language, but this is CRAP!
or not so bright.
Is it just me, or is anyone else shocked at the ease you can find the answer to your question via the magic that is GOOGLE? Just now, because my curiosity finally won over, I googled “AT&T commercial with monkey” to find out who sings the song, and BAM! Amos Lee, “Sweet Pea”. Sweet pea, apple of my eye….
Last night I googled “macbook envelope commercial song”, and BAM! “New Soul” by Yael Naïm. The internet rocks! I had to add “song” to the search, because believe it or not, when you just google “macbook envelope commercial”, the song does not immediately show up in the results list. Go figure.
The other thing I think is really cool? All the other people out there doing there doing exactly the same thing as me. Googling not to find out more about the product, but to find out who sings the songs in the commercial. Do you think the product developers and ad execs intended on that??
And PS, Honey googled the HP commercial last year to find out who sung the Picturebook song for me, and bought me the Kinks cd. It really is the little things in life that make me happy.
Pretty in pink! Some might say I have a magazine addiction. “Some”, being my husband. He also says I have a fruit addiction. (out of a $65 grocery bill, about $50 of that was fruit. seriously) Anyhoo, I loved all the February magazines, as I’m sure you did, too. I actually haven’t read the Country Living yet, but if it’s as good as last month’s which featured bits on Russell & Hazel (love, love, love R & H), See Jane Work (love them even more than R & H), and Amy Butler (who doesn’t love Amy Butler?), I’m in for a treat.
Not gonna lie ~ we had a bit of snow last weekend. And because we love him so much, we bought Porter a new car ~ a Ford Escape. It was our intention to buy a new vehicle before the baby was born, one that we could put Porter in the way-back & he wouldn’t step on the baby. It was our intention to shop around a bit, do some test drives, do some research on-line, and be ready to negotiate like pros. It was not our intention to test drive one vehicle, hang out in the car dealership for 2 1/2 hours, and drive home with a new car. But that’s what happens when you spend 2 1/2 hours in a car 
dealership while they “run some numbers”, and check with their boss because we were “lucky” enough to get the guy so new, he didn’t even have business cards printed, and then they run some more numbers.
dealership while they “run some numbers”, and check with their boss because we were “lucky” enough to get the guy so new, he didn’t even have business cards printed, and then they run some more numbers. They get you. And I didn’t even get to drive my Jetta one last time.
But, the car is growing on me, and in my heart, I know it was the right choice for our growing family.
He really does love me! Honey went on-line to buy a gate for the back of the new car so Porter wouldn’t be tempted to hop over the back seats, and don’t think he wouldn’t try. Honey also bought me 2 new books! I asked if they were from my Amazon wish list, and he said that no, no, they were from his recommendations. Since he only buys things for me on Amazon & never anything for himself, Amazon is of the impression that he’s gay. And I don’t mean to offend gays, I just think it’s funny that Amazon recommends things like decorating books and chic-flicks. Tell me that’s not funny! And I love these books. I want to crawl inside and live in the pages of these books. Thank you, Honey ~ I love you!
Does anyone else feel sad & lonely today? I spend all day Christmas with my husband & my family, and then I’m suddenly thrust back into work & I just feel lonely. Even my radio isn’t coming in very clear, which seems oddly fitting with the way I feel today. Just a bit off.
I want to be at home cuddling with Honey & Porter, who last night must have felt lonely too, because he decided he needed to lay on me, not just next to me. Honey had already fallen asleep on the couch, my lonliness had set in, and so I let him stay there even though a 55 pound dog lying across my belly wasn’t entirely comfortable. If Honey had witnessed that scene, he would have been miffed, because I often tell him his arm is too heavy when he drapes it across my belly when we’re asleep. Except, once he told me that when he put his arm across my waist & his hand rested on my belly, he was imagining what it would be like if there was a baby in there. I told myself that when I became pregnant, I would always let him put his hand on my belly.
I want to be at home, putting away my new goodies, putting away Christmas, and basically restoring order to my home. As much as I love Christmas and the entire month of planning, decorating, and celebrating, it will be a welcome relief to have life back to normal; to not have anything Christmas-related on my to-do list. I want to be tying up my loose ends & closing my loops so as to reduce my anxiety & free up space in my mind. Space that I will fill up with baby-planning, and reading my pregnancy books that I’ve not had time to read this past month.
I want to be at home watching our new DVD’s, of which we received many. Chic-flicks for me, and for Honey, I bought Ratatoullie and the Planet Earth series, He loves to watch anything on the Discovery or National Geographic channel. The other night, we both fell asleep in the living room, and I woke up to a show on giant turtles. The turtle had ensnared himself in a trap or something else he was otherwise unable to escape from, and wound up cooking himself from the heat ~ just moments before the tide had come up & freed him. It killed me to know that this poor turtle had baked to death, when there was a cameraman there who could have saved him. It was more than this pregnant gal (with “extra” feelings normally) could handle. When I told Adam about how much it bothered me, he said they’re not allowed to interfere, but it still seemed cruel to me. Even knowing the turtle’s death was part of the cycle of things in the animal world by becoming shark food didn’t make me feel any better. If I were at home today, I would not be watching a show about dying turtles.
Last night I dragged Honey to see P.S. I Love You, and I absolutely loved it. Honey, of course, thought it sucked. He’s not one for chic flicks, although he did say that once we own it and he’s seen it 4 times, maybe he’ll grow to like it. At least that’s something!
I must have cried about 8 different times during this movie, and I know I wasn’t alone because I could hear sniffling coming from all sides. I’m sorry, but if you are in a relationship, or more specifically, are married to the love of your life, and you don’t cry during this movie, you’re just dead inside.
This movie made me really think about my marriage, and how it doesn’t occur to me that it could be cut short. I married Honey with the belief that we will grow old together, and I never once considered the possibility that he could die young. If I allowed myself to think about such things, I probably never would have married him because the thought of losing him would hurt way too much.
P.S. brought up a whole mess of emotions that I never even knew existed. I could empathize with Hilary Swank’s character more than any other character I’ve watched in years. I could feel in my heart what it would feel like to be a widow at age 30, and it sucked. When you marry the man you love, that’s not supposed to happen, you know? How do you ever get over that? How do you get out of bed in the morning? Go to work? Move on? Smile? Allow yourself to fall in love again? I just can’t imagine how I’d ever get over losing Honey.
So, go watch this movie. Cry, laugh, give your husband a big hug, and treat your marriage as if every day could be its last.
This morning I was about to nudge/poke/kick Honey to roll over so he’d quit snoring until I realized it was not Honey snoring, but rather a dog barking outside for no apparent reason. And I have very little tolerance for dogs who bark for no apparent reason, nor for dog owners who let their dogs stay outside barking instead of bringing them inside. My exreme lack of tolerance is probably Porter is not a barker, and has yet to pick up the Husky trait of howling. He is extremely verbal, however, and has no problem letting us know that he is pissed and/or frustrated by plopping himself down in the middle of the living room floor with a big sigh & a harumph!
Anyway, Porter came into our bedroom to let us know he wanted to be let out; I believe not because he had to go potty but because he wanted to give the barker a healthy dose of shut the hell up.
White Christmas Forecasted.
