Tag Archives: Things I Like

Go Ahead and Skim to the Bottom if You’re Looking for a Point to This

I got a little caught up in life over the weekend and didn’t end up writing a post for today. Since my day job is a complete time suck and then I have this whole family life thing to prioritize (sigh), finding time to keep my blog updated is not always easy. Especially since I tend to write novels for posts. Do any of my loyal commenters actually read them – or is everyone just skimming…? Don’t answer – I probably don’t want to know.

The Friday confession thing has been convenient in that I generally have an idea of what I want to write by Thursday. So I think I’m going to bookend the week with a Monday feature as well. One that HAS to be somewhat short.

Every once in a while I see something that I really like and think, “hey I should blog about that.” But then I feel silly because I’m not a parenting advice blog (unless you’re taking a “what not to do” perspective of course), and I’m not a fashion or design blog (wearing the same five work outfits every week and decorating with hand me downs from the parents does not an expert make). No – I think that many of the blogs that I read (see my sidebar) have most of that covered.

I’ve decided that my Monday posts will now be devoted to “stuff I like.” This is wonderfully vague and can cover anything from my new shoes to an artist I found on Etsy. I probably won’t do much in the way of baby products since my mission in life is to have as few pieces of plastic in the house as possible. And those wood toys are so expensive! My children play with spatulas and the TV – and I don’t think there is much readership potential for those reviews…

So my inaugural Monday’s Stuff post (still working on that title – let me know if you have better suggestions – maybe I’ll give a prize for the one I use…) will be about something that I’ve been thinking about all week.

For those of you who decided to skim – here is the short version of the past several paragraphs: I didn’t get around to writing anything for today until now – and from now on I’m devoting my Monday post to “stuff I like.” Oh – and I may or may not give a prize to whomever renames my “Monday’s Stuff” title. Since it currently sucks – a prize is looking pretty likely.

So today? I like the community aspect of blogging. I really enjoyed the whole Nie Nie silent auction effort. I brought in over $500 in donations and actually won a lovely necklace. This is what first got me thinking about community and how it may be the foundation for why we are here. Why we’re both writing and reading what others have to say. In addition to all of the fame and money of course.

Seriously though, the fact that this diverse community pulled together to raise over $100,000 in one week for a family most did not personally know is pretty inspirational. I was honored to be a small part of that. [As a side note – you can find information on ongoing auctions etc. on the “benefit blog” page of the Nie Recovery site – AND I know that if you make a donation and e-mail your receipt to Emily of Acte Gratuit, she will mail you “Japanese treat” – from Japan, I mean.”]

Since the auctions took place, I’ve been more mindful of the general blog community support that I continue to observe. From something big like the Nie Nie fundraiser, to something small like prayers, positive thoughts, voodoo, etc. for individuals going through hard times. There are all of these virtual shoulders being offered out there – and I can’t imagine that any of it has gone unappreciated.

Just today, Neil from Citizen of the Month noted that he appreciated the condolences he received regarding a death in his family and proposed yet another community building idea:

Here’s my idea. Tell me if you think this could work. We set up some new Twitter account and call it something corny like BloggerCares, BloggerNews, or LifeEvents. Whenever one of us reads about a blogger with a big event — a death, a birth, a major surgery, a wedding — even if he is someone we don’t know personally — this information could be sent to this account, and then re-tweeted to hundreds of peoples at once, sort of a personal bloggers AP service. Then each receiver of the tweet could act however they wanted to — sending a message to this blogger acknowledging this happy or sad event, trying to be as personal as they could with someone they don’t really know, posting a comment on the person’s blog, or writing an email showing support. If it all worked well, we would be closer to a blogosphere where every blogger who needs it — can receive a few nice messages from the community, without any thought to who he is or what religious, color, political entity — or clique – he belongs to, or whether he is A-list or C-list.

How can you not love Neil? I think it’s a lovely idea. And even if nothing comes of it, the fact that people are out there having these ideas gives me the warm fuzzies. And I’ll leave it at that before breaking into a round of Kum-bye-ya. So I’ll look forward to seeing you at next week’s installment of Monday’s Stuff…when I will most likely sing the praises of my favorite shoes.

Check Me Out!

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I have a new look! Thanks to Christy of Ruby & Roja – I now have a pretty storefront to lure people in. Little do they know that things aren’t always so pretty on the inside… Oh well – at least I’m good for a piece of cake.

As much as Christy claims that I was not in fact a nightmare client, I have to commend her for her patience and diplomacy. Who knew that there was so much riding on the correct shade of yellow? And there were a few close calls with topiary height (we almost ended up with something resembling lollipops). Not to mention the part when I brought in my mother to consult. Christy has just experienced My Big Fat Piece of Cake Wedding.

Seriously though – I’m making myself sound far more demanding and needy than I actually was…kind of. I just wanted to thank the people that made this possible (and give them a nice plug – as if they need it since they already have a waiting list). So I’d like to holla (that’s right – I said “holla” – “shout outs” are so five minutes ago…) to Christy and the rest of the design geniuses at Ruby & Roja! Thanks for making me pretty (at least on the outside).

That’s My Giant

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Last week I was invited to a lunch hosted by Giant Food at one of my favorite DC restaurants, Chef Geoff. Aside from being a fan of the food at Chef Geoff, I particularly like this restaurant because the owner (that would be Chef Geoff, of course) happens to be a good friend of one of my husband’s best friends from college. So I kind of know him by proxy – which makes me feel very important.

Giant is one of the main grocery stores where I shop (that’s right Washington Post Express – I don’t spend all of my millions at Whole Foods). So the lunch seemed to apply to me. AND it was free. While not everyone likes to admit it – we all like free stuff. Even rich and famous bloggers like me.

When I arrived at the lunch, I was surprised to see that it was a fairly intimate group – probably about 20 people in all. This also pleased me because I like anything exclusive (as long as I’m invited). So far, so good. I was feeling important and elitist and I was getting a free lunch. Ah – just another day in the life of a suburban mom…

But seriously – what was I doing there? Why WAS I invited? I really had no idea. It seemed that the guest list was primarily made up of women who write for DC Metro Moms. And I don’t write for DC Metro Moms. I’ve only had a blog for about two months. But I am a mom, and I grew up in DC and now live in the Metro area….so maybe I should write for DC Metro Moms. I seem to be qualified… But for the purpose of this particular line of thought (why I was invited), there didn’t seem to be any rhyme or reason for it. I could only guess that they saw the title of my blog and thought I was a foodie. Well, as much as I like to eat, I have to admit to being a fairly reluctant cook. But if serving my children different variations of cheese on bread for dinner and then making my own dinner out of some cheese and crackers and a half a bottle of wine every night makes me part of Giant’s target audience….then it all makes sense.

As usual, many words have passed and not many points have been gotten to… So back to the lunch. The primary message that Giant seemed to want to relay to us is that they value the mothers that shop in their stores. Seriously – it just kept getting better. I could now add “valued” to the list of pats on the back that I seemed to be getting out of this experience. Then they filled us in on the current programs they are developing as well as various family-related changes that will be taking place in their stores.

The first item that caught my attention was the improved family-friendly check out lines. They not only eliminate candy and tabloids – but also provide activity pages with stickers for the kids, healthy snacks and various items that a parent may need on the go (like hand sanitizer). My first thought was that this aisle didn’t really appeal to me. I mean where would I get my reward for doing the shopping (candy) and how would I suffer through waiting in line without some kind of entertainment (Us Weekly)? Frankly, activity pages and Fig Newtons just aren’t going to cut it for me. Then I remembered that I would only be using this aisle if I had my children with me (something I actively avoid). And that this information was being presented to me since I’m a mom. Oh yeah – that’s right – I am! Then I thought the idea was genius.

The next point that seemed to apply to me personally was that Giant will be putting reminder signs in their parking lots so people won’t make it all the way through the checkout line before realizing that they left their reusable grocery bags in the car. Anyone that has been reading The Big Piece of Cake recently may remember my confession about this a few weeks ago. And if you caught my post on Friday, you will know that a local publication decided to slander me publicly for it. Okay – that’s a bit extreme, but I didn’t sense any eye rolling over the OTHER blogs they quoted that day…

Another point of discussion that got everyone all fired up was a new scanning system that will allow you to place an order at the deli counter and then come by to pick it up later. Women were literally vibrating with excitement over this. I was thinking about how I don’t much care for lunch meat, but then I considered that I could want to buy something at the deli counter at some point…so then I got into the spirit and joined in the ooohs and aaahs.

The presentation covered much more than this, but those new developments were the ones that seem to stick out for me. During part of the the presentation, Chef Geoff himself gave us a demonstration on how to prepare risotto. He put on a good show, and entertained us with culinary jokes and stories about his kids. The whole time I was thinking about how my husband (who actually does like to cook) would have LOVED to be there, and how he would have been the biggest suck up in the room, asking lots of questions about technique (love you honey!). This risotto was served with a scallop the size of my head as an appetizer. It was phenomenal, and I guarantee that if I tried this “easy” recipe at home it wouldn’t be nearly as good – regardless of Chef Geoff’s instructional skills.

While we were enjoying our entree, Andrea Astrachan, VP of Consumer Affairs gave us all kinds of tips for staying healthy, saving money and other stuff that would be of interest to moms. Andrea sat next to me and she was just cute as a button. Look at her picture – don’t you think so? AND she grew up on a farm. Did you know that? What – you say you had no idea who she was to begin with? Well duh! Neither did I, but you have to start somewhere. So start with this – Andrea grew up on a farm! And she has two sons. And she has a lot of style (you can’t really tell from her head shot – but she dresses well). I think that’s enough about Andrea for today. But that’s okay – it takes a while to really get to know someone. One last Andrea-related detail though – she went to the trouble of providing everyone with several handouts on the content from her presentation. And I will have every intention of reading these and until they slip though the bottom of my purse and into the black hole that consumes pretty much anything handout, brochure or “reminder” related.

As a bonus parting gift, we were given a preview of the NEW Giant logo. That’s right – The “big G” is going away. I can’t show a picture of the logo or even describe it. If I do they’ll have to kill me. It’s top secret information until its unveiling on August 22. We were informed that we were the first people in the DC area to see the new logo – which of course made me feel very special and elitist again, ending the event on a resounding high note.

On my way out the door, I bumped into another attendee that I thought looked familiar. Turns out we went to high school together (hi Stephanie!). So we had a quick, high pitched chat before I had to run back to the office. Well – I’ll speak for myself regarding the high pitched part. I tend to walk away from this kind of reunion wondering when I turned into Minnie Mouse. Seems to be a girl thing since I’ve been with Chris on numerous occassions when he’s run into an old friend, and somehow there is no significant rise in octaves involved…

All in all – it was a great day. As a suburban mom, I don’t get out as much as I used to. And since I left my somewhat higher profile meeting planning job (for one with more “family friendly” hours), I don’t even get invited to that many professional events. Now when I peruse my latest issue of In Style magazine, I don’t have to envy the celebrities at fashion shows and charity events, picking up their bags of Jo Malone and Tiffany & Co. swag. I’ll just look at my reusable Giant shopping bag holding my new logo calculator, adjustable apron, multi-use clip and box of Simply Enjoy brand cookies, and smile as I relive the fond memory.

Thanks again Giant Food and Chef Geoff for putting together such a lovely event!

Friday Confession and Guest Post

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For my last confession of the week, I thought I’d go with something embarrassing. So here it is. I was a very weird little girl. I loved anything “old fashioned” and felt as if I was born in the wrong century. I desperately wanted to wear high button shoes and carry a parasol.

I had a Madame Alexander doll that I particularly liked (probably Amy from Little Women with her blond hair and yellow pinafore) and I went through a phase when I would drag it everywhere with me. And I was not that little – I think I was nine! But by then I had read A Little Princess something like nine times and was enamored with Sara Crewe’s doll that had a wardrobe to match her own (I only WISHED that I had a yellow pinafore…).

I also used to like my grade school uniform because I thought it kind of looked like something old fashioned. It really didn’t, but it was a plaid jumper, and that seemed close enough. I even wore it in the summer without a shirt underneath. Like some kind of bizarre sundress. Never mind that it was a hideous polyester. I thought the two buttons at the waist were very smart looking. My best friend at the time didn’t know what to make of this. But as long as I participated in her horse-obsessed game preferences, she was willing to put up with it.

Finally – I think I read the Little House series even more than A Little Princess, and would memorize the details of what Laura and Mary wore, how they did their hair (I was big on braids back then) and could only wish that someone would invite me to a taffy pull. During this time, I tried to emulate some of these quaint practices and insisted on calling my parents “Ma and Pa.” They humored me, but I can only imagine what they really thought of this. My brother flatly refused to join in, and much to my disappointment, it never really caught on.

Sometime in seventh grade, I stopped being such a dork and became a bit more mainstream in my interests. But I still had to live with the shameful memory of wandering around downtown DC wearing one of my odd get ups – most likely involving a hat – possibly garnished with fresh flowers from a neighbor’s garden.

That’s it! No more confessions from me for a while (but feel free to add any of your own). And don’t forget – I’m guest posting on Light Refreshments Served today (Friday, August 1), so make sure to check it out!

Monday Confession

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Ugh Monday. It’s so hard to go back to the office/watch your mother’s helper (husband) leave for work and KNOW that there are five more days to get through before the next weekend. That is, unless you are spending your week at the BEACH. That’s right – I’m on vacation. So I’m just doing a short post each day. Every day I’m going to confess something. Nothing too deep and dark. Just some little things.

Here is my confession for Monday. I listen to recorded books. I don’t mean on long road trips either. I mean any time that I am in the car, exercising or doing something that might be otherwise mindless. Most people listen to music or just enjoy the opportunity to be alone and think. Not me – if I don’t have a story to listen to, I get panicky. What if I get bored? What if I get stuck in traffic and have to be bored for a really long time? It’s just not something I’m willing to risk.

My recorded books obsession began about ten years ago when I was still calling them “books on tape” (pfft – so 90s). I thought that it might be a good distraction for running at the gym. Like I’d get so caught up in the book that I’d forget that I was actually exercising. It didn’t really work – but I did find that it made the activity a little more bearable. But then I found that as with any good book, it was hard to put down the headphones. I continued to listen on the tape deck in my car. And it snowballed from there.

Now I’m a full on recorded books nerd. I get them from the library and have paid many a late fee. I have favorite “voices” and will sometimes base a book selection on whether or not I am familiar with the reader. I will give pretty much anything George Guidall reads a try. I was even hideously disappointed when I saw that he was going to speak at a Fairfax County Library event and I couldn’t get a ticket. I’m not the most involved library patron. Didn’t see the flyer until too late. THAT was disappointing.

What about you? Have anything you’d like to confess?

Finally Embracing Facebook

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The most amazing thing just happened to me the other day. I actually found a relevant use for Facebook. A month or two ago, a friend told me that I HAD TO create an account and that I’d become instantly addicted. Well I created the account and then pretty much forgot about it until last week. Then for some reason I got a number of “Friend” invitations from both people I know well and people that I haven’t seen in years. Being in Key West, away from my day to day responsibilities, I had some time on my hands. So I actually updated my page with more details and did some searching through the Friend lists of my Friends for other friends (using the caps to differentiate between Facebook “Friends” and my “friends”). Okay – so my OCD tendencies kicked in and I felt compelled to comb through everyone’s Friend list to make sure I caught each and every last acquaintance.

Still this was just one of the many tedious exercises I put myself through (again – my OCD), and I didn’t expect to get much more from it than the usual momentary sense of accomplishment. But then something really wonderful happened. I actually found one of my best childhood friends whom I lost touch with almost ten years ago.

Last time we spoke, she had just moved to LA and couldn’t afford to fly back to DC for my wedding. As it sometimes happens with long distance friends, we let too much time pass and the next thing I knew, it had been years. But we were close during that period of childhood when your friends live at your house and treat your family like their family. I never had a sister, so Madeline became my sister. Here are some of the things that come to mind when I think of Madeline in fourth grade:

She was the middle child of one of those big Catholic families (five kids), with two older sisters and two younger brothers. Her sisters were teenagers with bedrooms on their own floor of the house. They would put make up on us and style our hair. They gave Madeline her first “winged” haircut and we thought it was very sophisticated. They also told Madeline that she would be the prettiest of the three. I always thought how wonderful it must be to have glamorous teenage sisters with such high hopes for your future.
She actually was a beautiful little girl, and once a woman stopped us on the street to tell her how lovely she was and remark upon her long eyelashes. We laughed about how weird that was, but Madeline was secretly pleased and I was secretly jealous. In spite of being quite petite and pretty, she was also a bit of a tomboy and was always good at climbing trees and bossing around her little brothers.
The first time I played at her house it was a sleepover and I marveled at how she had her very own little black and white TV in her room. We stayed up late watching Benny Hill and Saturday Night Live and laughing at everything – even the jokes we didn’t understand.
One of Madeline’s little brothers had Down syndrome and even though he wasn’t the youngest, he was cherished like a youngest child. Madeline was somehow very protective of him without ever making him seem any different from the rest of them. As small as she was, everything Madeline did was big. And her love could be best described as fierce.
Madeline and I fought like sisters and once I actually punched her in the face. I was not a tomboy and had never done anything like that before. She laughed and I got a bloody nose. I was good at holding grudges, but she was always able to get me to come around. Most of the time I didn’t deserve it.

I could go on and on about the things that I remember about Madeline – about all of my childhood friends and how much I still remember about them. Who would have thought that something as commercial as Facebook would bring one of the lost ones back to me. Now I’m looking for Frances McMillen, Jerry Dougherty and Sarah Squire. All friends from different times – friendships both long and brief. They all count and now I want them all back. So we’ll see what Facebook has to offer.

I haven’t actually asked for comments yet (since you all seem to prefer e-mailing me directly…). But why not? What about you? Looking for a missing person? Who are they and what are the little but big things that you remember about them?

The One Where I Decide That I’m Good Enough, Smart Enough and Dammit People Like Me!

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Stuart Smalley allusions aside, I stumbled across this site the other day and it just made me laugh. While I’m somewhat new to the world of blogging, I have definitely noticed that as with any other group dynamic, these people are competitive! I initially thought it would be fun to do some writing, keep in better touch with the people I never call and maybe even pick up some new friends along the way. But within a couple of weeks, I was adding myself to any blog lists I could find – all of which require that you include their “button” on your site. I even looked at other blogs to see if there were any lists I may have missed. Basically, I was whoring out my own little blog just to get more hits.

Where is this desperation coming from? If I didn’t feel the need to scramble for status in high school, then why am I compelled to do so now? As with most things – I chalk it up to my OCD leanings, but what a waste of time. The whole point of this was to be fun, not to be famous. And it’s not like I’m trying to be Dooce (and it’s not like people who don’t read blogs – i.e. most people – even know what Dooce is). So I’m throwing out all of those “widgets” and just keeping a few for sites that I actually visit myself.

I like to read good writing, to be inspired by creativity and to feel connected to something outside of my office job and suburban routines. And I can get all of that without the blog bling overload. I’m going to use resources like my new favorite, AllMediocre to get my fix and maybe some of them will visit me as well. I like what I write – and that’s a good thing since I’m pretty much writing for myself. So I’m taking a stand for mediocrity and sticking with my own kind. No more chasing after the popular girls. I’m picking out my own lunch table, and anyone is invited to join me.

Kate and Oliver’s Excellent Adventure: Part II

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3:00 p.m. at my parent’s house
Splash Down

Well the news wasn’t particularly good, but it could definitely be worse. As much as it’s not going to be pleasant (to say the least), we’re just grateful that there is a treatment plan. So continuing in the vein of taking one day at a time, we’re looking forward to getting Mom home on Thursday if all goes well.

In the meantime, Oliver and I have been hanging out with Dad, going to the shop and playing in the pool. We saw my brother Matt when he got back from work yesterday, and we’ll get to spend more time with him since he’s not working on Wednesday or Thursday. Oliver was fascinated with one of Matt’s bicycles and I think I’ve finally gotten him to realize that if we touch it and anything bad happens, Uncle Matt may put us on the next plane off the island. He builds bikes entirely out of parts that were purchased on ebay and through other resources he uses. It’s more than a hobby – to me it seems like borderline obsession, but a cool one at that. I tried to take a picture, but I’m not the best photographer (except for that picture of the twist tie on the hook – that was a masterpiece). So I asked him to e-mail me one:

We’ve spent most of our time in the pool with Oliver, and my father has come up with some great new games for them to play. There is the one where he swims the length of the pool and back underwater while Oliver watches (because Oliver is so good at following directions and staying “right there” until Dad resurfaces), the one where Oliver pushes him into the pool, and a variation on a game that Oliver calls “jump down” at home. In “jump down” he will pick the highest point he can find and then leap into your arms whether you are ready or not (although he does warn you with a hearty “JUMP DOWN!”). In the new game, “splash down,” the goal is less one of altitude and more one of force. The players try to make the biggest splash they can manage – preferably when someone fully clothed is nearby. I just can’t wait to try these out at the community pool…. Here is a picture of that fantastic “push Grandpa in the pool” game:

Now a responsible parent would have put an end to this immediately, explaining that it’s not safe and that we never push anyone in the pool. My reaction was to say, “hold that pose – let me get my camera!” Seriously – I think I have about 50 shots of this. Yes – that is the number of times that this trick was performed (at least). But I think that today when I was home alone with Oliver, playing in the pool (for TWO HOURS, god help me), I made it clear that it’s the push Grandpa in the pool game, not the push Mommy in the pool game. So hopefully, he’ll reserve that activity for Key West – you know, as a special thing between them.

10:30 p.m. at my parents’ house
A Useful Talent

I’m sitting next to my Dad while he watches (well, while we watch) America’s Got Talent. The only time that I ever watch reality programming is with my parents. Apparently, it’s the only TV genre that they can both agree on. They don’t watch the scary ones where people eat bugs – but they just love anything that involves dancing – Dancing with the Stars, So You Think You Can Dance – and singing – DUH, American Idol. And of course America’s Got Talent has lots of singing and dancing. Since this particular night is one of the early shows, it’s the first round of tryouts and the acts include a lot of bizarre novelty stuff. Right now a man is swallowing a sword. Earlier a 7’ tall man (named GEORGE – like my sweet baby boy at home) wrapped a long tube around a volunteer from the audience. Then he threaded one end through a nostril, pulled it out of his mouth and stuck it into a bottle of milk. THEN he took the other end put it in his mouth and started drinking. He’s going on to the next round. I was happy to hear that we’ll be watching So You Think You Can Dance tomorrow night.

Okay – I take it back. I just saw a tiny autistic nine year old who sang before he learned how to talk get voted up to the next level. The tears are flowing.

Many things today have made me feel a little misty. Seeing my mother’s strength and courage, as well as experiencing the support of their little community. Key West is much like a small town in that people who live here get to know each other in the shops, restaurants and daily comings and goings. A woman who has a baby gear rental company, Holiday Baby, found out while renting me a jog stroller that my mother was sick. She was dropping the stroller off at the shop and in addition to insisting that I keep it as long as I need it at no cost, she told my Dad that she would come sit in the shop for him whenever he needed some help. The wonderful young woman who works part time for my parents and a friend of hers that works at another home furnishings store are going to arrange their schedules to help my mother complete decorating jobs that she simply can’t physically do on her own now. A woman that my mother knows has offered to drive her to and from her treatments if my father can’t leave work. Every time we see someone that has found out about Mom (and news seems to travel fast here), whether they are a good friend or just an acquaintance, they all want to help. And it’s not just the, “anything I can do, anything at all,” kind of help – it’s tangible, practical suggestions for things they can do for us. It’s pretty inspirational, and it makes me feel good to know that when I leave at the end of the week, my family will have a whole community eager to support them.

At this point, we have a plan for treatment, an incredible amount of support from friends and family both near and far, and we have every reason to believe that we’ll get through this again. Mom made it clear that she wants nothing but “positive thinking” around her. And THAT I can do. Surprisingly, in spite of a somewhat unhealthy amount of insecurity, this is something that I’m really quite good at. I won’t be sad or upset one minute before I absolutely have to. You can call it dissociation, you can call it denial – I won’t dispute that, but I prefer to think of it as “positive thinking.” So with that attitude, we’re now moving on to the next round…

I Make the Best Cake Icing and You Can Too

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It’s been a really fun week starting this blog – but I have to tell you, I’m exhausted. It was my original intention to sit down every night and spend 20 minutes on a paragraph or two about thoughts I had that day. But due to some strong OCD tendencies, I find it very difficult to just whip something up. Do you know that the two longest posts I wrote were the ones that I expected to be quick, amusing anecdotes about my family? Either because they involved my children or because I automatically felt the need to over-explain my initially unimpressive parenting style, I just couldn’t keep it brief. And then I had to obsessively edit them – making changes even after I had posted them to my blog. I work full time, have three children AND just happen to have had a week on my own while my husband was traveling for business. Who do I think I am – a professional writer? I can’t stay up all night blogging! So future weeks will bring some attempts to simplify things a bit. I’ll restrict myself to just a few rambling stories and the other days will be devoted to something else. What that will be…I’m not really sure yet – but hopefully it won’t involve too much scrolling.

My brief thought for today is that while writing this week, I enjoyed reading other blogs even more than I did before. On my own blog, I have a short list of sites that I’ve stumbled across and I have an even longer list bookmarked in my favorites. And they are incredibly diverse. Of course I love the design blogs with their pretty pictures and products I might never have found on my own. But I’ve also discovered a number of personal blogs that I find inspiring. Some of them are fashion or art focused, some of them have a journal format, some are written by people much younger than me, and some are straight up humor. But they all create a feeling of community – one in which all are welcome to comment and keep coming back. People that might never give each other a second glance on the street have this whole world of ideas and pictures and laughter – and everyone is invited.

Before taking a break this weekend I really feel like I should include at least something about cake. Here it is. When I make my own cake, I refuse to use frosting from a can. I don’t care much for it, and I know a really easy recipe for something SO much better. Buy a box of Domino Confectioners’ Sugar. On the back or the side you will find the recipe, but if you use a different brand, these are the directions:

Ingredients
I lb. confectioners’ sugar (approximately 3 ¾ cups)
½ cup butter softened
3-4 tbs milk
1 tsp vanilla

Instructions
Combine in large bowl, with mixer at low speed, confectioners’ sugar, butter, milk and vanilla. Beat at medium speed 1-2 minutes until creamy. If desired, add more milk until frosting is spreading consistency. Makes enough to fill and frost 2-layer cake, 13x9x2-inch sheet cake, or 24 cupcakes.

You can add different flavorings in place of the vanilla and use food coloring as necessary. People tell me that they have never had a better cupcake when I make that icing. Try it and you too will become a true believer.

Have a great weekend!

Wine Makes People Interesting

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I’m feeling just a little embarrassed about last night’s post. Did I actually say “once you go black…?” I’m cringing. That is a bit out of character for me. But here is my great excuse: I was drunk. No, seriously – this is the result of being left to my own devices (Chris is out of town) and making dinner out of a bottle of wine and a handful of cashews. Apparently, it made me think I was Samantha from Sex & the City.

Not that I meant to drink too much. I drank the wine over the course of several hours. It’s not like I was using a funnel (here is where I picture myself as Frank the Tank from Old School saying, “it feels so good when it hits the lips.”). The truth is I’m not a big drinker. I didn’t drink at all in high school or for the first two years of college. I don’t care for beer and will only drink a cocktail occasionally. But I do really like wine… So this was more like picking at a chocolate cake that is sitting out on the counter all day. There was a point when I realized that I didn’t really want anymore, but I failed to follow up on that thought. So there I was after putting the kids to bed – ready to finish up the post I wrote during my lunch break – just a little too tipsy for my own good. I think I will call this BUI (blogging while under the influence).

I’m sure anyone who indulges in a drink once in a while will know what I’m talking about (and I know some who don’t and I hope that none of this offends them). When you’re standing around at a party and you realize that you’re bored by the people talking to you, you may finish that first drink rather quickly and start the second far earlier in the evening than you would under different circumstances. Then that guy droning on about the flagstone he’s putting in his backyard starts to seem kind of funny. Those anecdotes about the workers tracking mud all over the carpet are a hoot! What does he do anyway? It must be something fascinating…. Investment banking? Cool! See what I mean? For me, wine makes people more interesting. AND it makes me funny…and hot (but that’s only when I’ve have A LOT of drinks with interesting people who think I’m really funny).

One too many drinks can impair judgment on many levels. Like buying weird stuff. Once when I was working my old association’s annual conference, I bought a black cowboy hat. We were in Dallas and everyone was at the Monday Night Event. “Everyone,” being my co-workers, a group of overworked, exhausted people, a bit punchy from this rare moment of free time. And we didn’t match – most of us wouldn’t have socialized outside of work, and didn’t look to have that much in common. But after working long hours on little sleep, we resembled a high school class on an overnight field trip. It’s been a while, but I remember the venue that night was a kind of ranch with abundant stereotypical Texas amusements. A mechanical bull, a quick draw shooting game, wagon wheels and bales of hay – all of the makings for a damn good party. After a private Dwight Yoakam concert, some follow up dancing to Asleep at the Wheel, several mechanical bull rides and of course, a few too many drinks, it was time to hit the gift shop.

Here enters another thing that can impair good judgment: cute young guys. My first reaction to young guys is typically very maternal with a lot of head patting and cheek pinching behavior. But those drinks were making me far too attractive to play mommy. Don’t get me wrong – I’m no Mrs. Robinson, but when you are 30 years old and married, a 25 year old guy seems a lot younger than just five years. So wasn’t I just full of myself, flirting away. He and a few of his friends had joined our group and REALLY didn’t match – but who cared? Everyone was buying shirts, belt buckles and hats. I tried on the black hat and asked my new friend what he thought. He said, “it makes you look hot.” So of course it was a given that I had to buy it. Then one of my work friends bought a tight tee shirt that said “cowgirl” across the front in rhinestones. Because really, you could get much more use out of that than a cowboy hat. She’s so practical. Her purchase was not at all influenced by cute young guys.

My wine-induced lapses in judgment are more local these days. The other night I asked a neighbor if her husband was her manny. And I actually said “manny.” I know her, but had never met her husband before. Chris claimed that he had and that it wasn’t the man that we see going in and out of her house with her kids. You would think that I’d be skeptical – and I was – but Chris was so adamant that it was a different guy. So after my second drink when I was feeling extra chatty I said, “who is that man that’s always with your kids?” She was like, “you mean my husband?” And then there were a few more exchanges that concluded with me saying that I thought he was her manny. Luckily, she found this incredibly amusing and hasn’t held it against me. I of course was mortified – but you can’t say I wasn’t interesting.