Preferably one with more than three years of experience....experience being alive, I mean.
May 28, 2010
New photographer
Now that I've got a new hair stylist, I need a new photographer.
Preferably one with more than three years of experience....experience being alive, I mean.
Preferably one with more than three years of experience....experience being alive, I mean.
May 18, 2010
Impressing the In-Laws
Tonight I was cleaning up our basement, in preparation for some of Mark's family, who are coming to stay at our house for a wedding. As a fairly new homeowner, I'm so happy to finally be able to host other people. As I was organizing the basement and getting one room ready for Mark's dad, I had a visitation of the old "Impress the In-laws" complex, and tried to think of things that I could display or casually point out that would make Mark's dad proud of us.
I think he'll be impressed with our new fruit trees and (albeit half-planted) garden--for which I awarded myself a mental point. We'll be sure to open our closet under the stairs for him, which contains the bulk of our food storage (two points). I refuse to eat, prepare, or even buy beets, so I'm bound to lose a point on those grounds. Tomorrow I can stockpile Adams peanut butter (bleh) before our guests arrive (one point).
It was then that my eyes rested on some of the only visible food storage that we have in our basement, and I got a little pit in my stomach. As important background information, you have to know that Mark's dad once gave him a book called "The White Powder That's Legal" (ahem, that's refined sugar, for those of you who were wondering...or just thinking of powdered milk). And although we own plenty of brown rice, beans and wheat, this particular visible food storage stash just happens to contain a sampling of every imaginable form of high fructose corn syrup and refined sugar. From ice cream cones to Captain Crunch (times three) to fifty 74-cent cake mixes, to graham crackers and granola bars and chips (thank heavens the year's supply of chocolate chips are tucked away somewhere else), it's like Refined Sugar Heaven.
Do I best minimize my losses by spending an hour tomorrow shopping for Adams PB, or crafting an impenetrable curtain to cover our shrine to the White Powder That's Legal?
I think he'll be impressed with our new fruit trees and (albeit half-planted) garden--for which I awarded myself a mental point. We'll be sure to open our closet under the stairs for him, which contains the bulk of our food storage (two points). I refuse to eat, prepare, or even buy beets, so I'm bound to lose a point on those grounds. Tomorrow I can stockpile Adams peanut butter (bleh) before our guests arrive (one point).
It was then that my eyes rested on some of the only visible food storage that we have in our basement, and I got a little pit in my stomach. As important background information, you have to know that Mark's dad once gave him a book called "The White Powder That's Legal" (ahem, that's refined sugar, for those of you who were wondering...or just thinking of powdered milk). And although we own plenty of brown rice, beans and wheat, this particular visible food storage stash just happens to contain a sampling of every imaginable form of high fructose corn syrup and refined sugar. From ice cream cones to Captain Crunch (times three) to fifty 74-cent cake mixes, to graham crackers and granola bars and chips (thank heavens the year's supply of chocolate chips are tucked away somewhere else), it's like Refined Sugar Heaven.
Do I best minimize my losses by spending an hour tomorrow shopping for Adams PB, or crafting an impenetrable curtain to cover our shrine to the White Powder That's Legal?
May 5, 2010
Family wedding
In honor of the family wedding I have this week, where I get to line up for countless pictures in matching outfits with my six skinny sisters, I have to post this picture I found here.
It's called "Realistic Depiction of How I Feel on a Scale" (or "At a Wedding")
There is someone in my family who is looking forward to the wedding. Or at least her own.
It's called "Realistic Depiction of How I Feel on a Scale" (or "At a Wedding")
There is someone in my family who is looking forward to the wedding. Or at least her own.
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