Since I'm moving, I may as well move

Time to simplify life a little and get out of this blogger account that is tied to an email address I never use anymore. New blogs will be posted here.

Consider yourself invited to pop in on me at my new online home anytime!

Sometimes God gives you a sign. And sometimes, that sign is neon green. Also, green means GO.

We're moving. Sometime between now and a year from now, my husband and I will pack up all our belongings and move to a place I always said I wouldn't want to live. My hair will be frizzy and I'm sure my allergies won't be any better but this is what God is telling us to do.

Rob said a few months ago something along the lines of "we're moving to Atlanta to start a new church, think about/pray about if you would like to join us". And I said "okay" because there's no harm in considering a possibility, right? And I prayed about it and thought about it and slowly my days and thoughts evolved into a position in which this move resonated with my core. I told God years ago that I would go wherever He wanted me to go and I would do whatever He wanted me to do. I really meant it. Until now, He hadn't drawn my heart towards anything.

Gradually, I began trying to warm Tim up to the idea. He thought he wanted to move to L.A. So I just told him to at least keep his mind and his heart open and pray about it. He said he would. Slowly, little signs came to us that tugged on our hearts together, telling us both that this was what we should do. Tim got a new phone and installed the GPS. It said his default location was Atlanta. Little things like that kept coming up, still he balked. I said, "have you prayed about it?" He said, "Yes." I said, "what does God say to your heart?" He said, "Move." I resisted the temptation to give him a V-8 slap on the head. I figure I'll just let God give him a metaphorical slap.

This is the part of my blog where you start to think I'm crazy. You have been warned. Oh, who am I kidding? If you've known me for any length of time, you already think I'm crazy. But in a nice way. I hope. Anyways...

I have a gift. My grandmother had this gift, she had visions of the future. She was spot on. I have this same gift. I see things in my dreams. I'm not saying I'm psychic but I think that God speaks to me through what I remember from my dreams. I've seen trivial things like who wins a reality TV show. I've seen important things, like an old friend's wife almost dying. I have not yet managed to see things like lottery numbers. (I wish!) One night, I saw the kitchen of Rob & Christina's new house in Georgia. I was sitting in the kitchen with Christina, discussing the repulsiveness of gelatin. But we were there. We weren't visiting. I woke up and I knew - I just KNEW. I told Tim we were moving, and I told him why. He's been through enough, "I had a weird dream about _____ last night" and then it coming true, he knows better than to doubt me.

As we plan our move, we have a few ducks to get in a row. One of them is what to do with my car. Right now it just sits, nobody drives it. It gets excellent mpg but it's too small to be a family car. So it just sits. I need to sell it. I am having a hard time with selling it. That car, "The Olive", is the very first car I have ever bought on my own. It is symbolic of my independence. It's the last piece of what was just mine before we became "we". Also, I don't know where the title is. It's in a box somewhere in storage, as yet unpacked from when we moved here a year ago. I really need to sell it. I really don't want to. I'm not trying to sell it. It has to go. See my inner turmoil here? So I prayed, "God, please show me what to do with my car because my will isn't to let it go."

And then yesterday, we arrived home from dinner to this on our front door:

You can't tell from the craptastic cell phone photo, but it's on a neon green post it note.

As you can probably imagine, I was stunned.

God speaks to people every day. He might be that gentle prodding in your heart to call an old friend or He might give you a peek into your future in a dream. He might not use a burning bush, but He will find a way to get your attention. Sometimes, he leaves you a little Post-It note.

I was out shopping this afternoon, when I came across this. Logically, it makes no sense to buy more knick-knacks when you're preparing to move but the sentiment meant too much to me. I couldn't leave it in the store. So for now it's on my living room wall, dispensing valuable advice.


Like I said, green means GO.

Crabby Tuesday!

I suppose it's emotionally healthy to get all the stuff that bugs you out of your system...so here's my list for the week:

1) The price of gasoline as compared to the record setting profits the oil companies post. Seriously, is there nothing we can do about the racketeering involved here?

2) Bear hair. Let me explain. Bella's (our yellow lab) full name is Isabella. Isabella Heather, if you want to be specific. Tim's mom loves the name Heather, I'm not the biggest fan of it. As a preemptive strike, I used the name for our dog so we just couldn't use it for a baby. Heh heh heh. I's sneaky. Anyway, as Bella has grown up, the texture of her fur has changed everywhere, except her ears. On her ears, her fur is still soft and silky like her puppy fur and she feels like a teddy bear. So over the years, Bella became "Bella Bear" and now usually just "Bear". It is Bear shedding season. I have dog hair on my dog hair here - it's insane. I can't vacuum or dust enough to keep up with it. It's just everywhere! Argh! Darn Bear Hair!

3) Stupid Comcast. We have lived here for a year now, and over the course of that year I think Comcast has had to be out here in excess of a dozen times. Our cable goes out, or the sound goes out or our internet goes out (which means the phone goes out too...) this service is just totally worthless. I am praying that when we move Comcast won't be the provider of fine televised entertainment. I know we could switch to AT&T or Wow, but I had DSL at my old house & hated it and Wow's broadband speeds aren't as fast as Comcast's, which is important to have when Tim works from home. I had a Comcast guy out here again this morning, he was late, he tracked mud in the house, and he didn't fix it. He said he needed a "Level 3 technician" to come at another time. I'm about ready to have a Level 3 Conniption Fit over this. We're not building a better atom, people! It's just TV! *insert swear word of your own choosing here*

4) Slow builders. I was promised a new Whole Foods 2 miles away from this house when we looked at it before we moved in a year ago. WHERE IS IT???? Granted, it is finally a structure with signage but as long as I have to drive to Wheaton to go grocery shopping, I am not a happy camper.

Thank goodness Trader Joe's has a minuscule selection of organics. I picked up a 6 oz. pack of organic blackberries there today and they are fantastic. How many of these is a serving? *nosh* Who cares, they're delicious. Tim would love these. *nosh* Does anyone know how many carbs are in 6 oz. of blackberries? *nosh* I wish these came seedless like that watermelon I bought. *nosh* Oh, I am seriously not going to eat this entire package of berries, am I? *nosh* Yes, yes I am. At least it's only fruit.

Lust Friday!

I like stuff. I like new stuff, I like good stuff, I like stuff that doesn't do things that my current stuff does. Here's my list of stuff that I am pondering procurement of this week:

1) The Topsy Turvy Hanging Tomato Basket. How amazing does this look? No more rotten tomatoes on the ground? Score! No more tomato baskets, stakes or tying? Sounds awesome! I am thisclose to ordering an "as seen on TV" thing. The last time I did this, (the Debbie Meyer Green Bags), I was so pleasantly surprised. Must. Control. Mouse. Finger. It doesn't help that I have my Visa number memorized, including the CVV number on the back. Does. Not. Help!

2) That $10 PedEgg thing. It's basically the best part of the pedicure, for $10. I saw it at Blood Bath and Beyond this week, and it's on the marquee outside my Walgreens. Plus, I have to go to The Wall to pick up my free 8 x 10 Mother's Day photo print. I'm pretty sure I'll be coming home with a picture and a PedEgg.

3) 98 cents/gallon gas to come back. Hey, a girl can dream right? I have seen $4/gallon gas in my community and it's sobering. In the meantime, at least I have GasBuddy to guide me to the best gas prices in the area.

What's that you say? It's LOVE THURSDAY? Yippee!

It's been too long since I've done a Love Thursday post. Too, too long!

So, here's what I'm loving this week:

1) My pink hair. It's super fun. I'm so thrilled to be out of corporate America so I can finally do fun, funky things to my hair. Sometimes I forget I have pink hair and I find someone looking at me kind of funny and I think I must have something on my face. Nope! I have pink hair!

2) My cute husband. We dined out last night because we had too many errands to run after our Chiropractor appointments that I honestly didn't have time to also prepare a meal and clean up afterwards before bed time. So we were deciding where to go & I suggested Sweet Tomatoes, which just opened by us. And he said he didn't care for tomatoes that much. He thought all they had was food made out of tomatoes. Tomato pie, tomato kabobs, fried tomatoes, stewed tomatoes, tomato sandwiches...you get the picture. I laughed, promised him that there was more than tomatoes there and dragged him in. How can someone so brilliant be so silly? He cracks me up!

3) Gardening. I'm doing some container gardening on my back deck with some veggies in pots - and I have a strawberry pot too. Yum! On the front porch, I've got some moss baskets that I put together with impatiens, salvia, daisies and petunias. It looks so festive! My spring tulips are fading so it's almost time to put some annuals in the flowerbeds out front. Playing in the dirt is totally relaxing.

4) Drying clothes with the Power of Nature. I've been hanging stuff out to dry as often as possible - I asked for an actual clothesline for Mother's Day (and a new mandoline, a microplane box grater and a new salt pig) so I don't have to use drying racks. Jackson's last load of diapers was dried outside, and now all his diaper laundry is perfumed with fresh air, sunshine and the sweet lilacs blooming on the side of the house. Ah, perfection!

I think I'm going to bring Love Thursday back as a regular weekly installation. And I'm adding Lust Friday, when I list the stuff I'd love to have (on the list this week, that Ped Egg thing for sandal smooth heels). Maybe we'll add Crabby Tuesdays too, so I can vent about the stuff that drives me nuts! Like people who can't drive and talk at the same time, or people who use the express lane with clearly more than 10 items in their cart. :)

a boy and his dog

He's so precious I could eat him up. Here's Moose with his stuffed yellow lab (he calls it his "Ella" because he can't pronounce the "B" in Bella's name) that I bought him when I was 9 weeks pregnant...

Sometimes I wonder, whatchu goin to be - a doctor, a general, maybe an MC...

I love being a stay at home mom. I love spending all day with Jackson, and getting to know him. He is the most amazing person. He's grown into this charismatic, charming little guy. He knows just how to greet you with a darling "Hi!" that melts your heart. And it doesn't matter what he's doing at the time, it could be the most naughty and mischievous thing. But he pours on the charm, and with his coy little smile you completely forget about reprimanding him and just want to hug him.

I'll bet Bill Clinton was like that as a child.

All this makes me wonder who Jackson will grow up to be. We purposefully gave him a very strong, BAMFy name. Jackson Powers. The only name stronger is Shaft. Even at his baby dedication, our pastor held him and said, "He's going to be somebody important, I can feel it."

So who will he be when he grows up? I have no idea. But I think he's on the right track towards becoming a very handsome, sweet, kind, genuinely charming man.

Anything but a politician. That's all I ask.

Hi, my name is Felicia and I'm addicted to

dying my hair funky colors. The purple was fading to a blue-gray (think the nice old lady down the block blue-gray) so it was time to do something. So something was done. Fun pinky-red bangs ensued:



I kind of love it. :)

That John Mayer, he may be on to something...

"Take all of your wasted honor
Every little past frustration
Take all of your so-called problems,
Better put ‘em in quotations"

So says John Mayer's song, "Say", which I am totally downloading onto my mp3 player later today. At different moments in time, there have been songs in the background that mark those moments as aural memories. "Say" is one of them, and yesterday I got to say what I needed to say.

You probably remember last Easter, when I made a decision in church and blogged about it. I decided to try, as best I could, to extend my mother the same grace and forgiveness that God gives us. This hasn't been easy, my friends! In the back of my head, I always thought that there would come a day, that despite my forgiving her (without her asking), that I would need to confront her about all the things that had fed my bitterness against her for so many years. There would be a day of reckoning, I told myself.

"Walking like a one man army
Fighting with the shadows in your head
Living out the same old moment
Knowing you'd be better off instead
If you could only
Say what you need to say
Say what you need to say
Say what you need to say
Say what you need to say"

And slowly as days melted into months, my desire for a full-on confrontation waned. I decided that she didn't have to answer to me, she had to answer to God. Answering to me was petty compared to that.

And then Yesterday happened. It started like a hundred normal days before it, I went grocery shopping and was on my way home when she called. The conversation evolved and before I knew it, we had reached a point where I could say it - say it all. And she invited me to do so. In a completely non-confrontational manner, the floodgates were opened and there was no turning back.

"Have no fear for giving in
Have no fear for giving over
You better know that in the end
Its better to say too much
Than never to say what you need to say again"

I would say "it was on like Donkey Kong", mostly because that phrase cracks me up - but honestly, it wasn't like that. It was just me, saying how I felt and it was just her, listening. I think that I owed it to myself to say it, and she owed it to me to listen. In the end, she admitted that everything I said was true, and in between sobs, asked me to forgive her. I said I've been working on it.

My heart feels a million times lighter this morning. Saying what I needed to say was healing and validating.

I can't believe that I'm the only one who has carried a heavy heart over many years without ever having the purifying soul purging necessary to clear the air and settle things. If you suffer from this too, I hope some day you also have a Divinely provided moment to gently but firmly, say what you need to say. And if you don't or can't, I welcome you to say what you need to say here - lay your burden down, once and for all.

"Even if your hands are shaking
And your faith is broken
Even as the eyes are closing
Do it with a heart wide open

Say what you need to say
Say what you need to say
Say what you need to say
Say what you need to say"

My rock of love

Went to BDubs for dinner tonight - Tim decided to apply the Kiddie Menu temporary tattoos to his neck, a la Daisy. (He's a dork, but he's my dork and I love him).

We're casual dating whores

Our contract with our wireless provider has expired. Oddly enough, recently both of our phones died untimely deaths. Could it be that the lifespan of equipment is built so the equipment expires just in time for you to renew your vows to your wireless company?

Luckily for us, we have the insurance on our phones. We're both PDA people. I'm a Treo girl and Tim wields a Pocket PC. Our phones would cost us $600 a piece to replace out of pocket without a new contract discount. We thought the insurance would be a smart move. :)

So we called and asked for help with our phones-turned-bricks and lo and behold, our phones aren't made anymore! We are obsolete, technology has passed us by. The only replacement available to us was...a free upgrade. Woe is me. Ha ha!

So now we eagerly await receipt of our new phones (a 755P for me and Mogul/6800 for Tim) and don't really know what to do about our contract. It seems that for the time being, we can enjoy our really great contract pricing that has gone up since 2 years ago on a month to month basis with brand new phones. We don't have to get married to a wireless company, we can kind of casually date around and go from store to store just to see what's out there. If we find something that seems like a BBD (bigger, better deal) than what we have now, we can walk away from...oh, I won't want to name names so we'll just call our wireless carrier Berizon. If we see something that looks better, we can drop Berizon like a hot potato. It's like being a free agent, or being single again.

So, other wireless carriers, it's time to sex it up a bit and seduce me with an offer I can't refuse. Something along the lines of 1500 minutes family plan for $70 sounds good. Throw in a reasonably priced data plan at lightening fast broadband speeds and I'm ready to enter into a long term relationship with you.

But only for 2 years.

Why buy the cow and pay $7 a gallon for the milk when you can get it at White Hen for $2.49?

We are now the proud shareholders in an Amish dairy herd in Middlebury, IN. Our shareholdership entitles us to buy fresh raw milk for our family. We couldn't be more excited!

Raw milk is SO much better for you than pasteurized milk. We made the switch last week and everybody in the house loves the new milk, Moose included.

Since it's Amish milk, it's organic but not certified because the farmers don't have the financial investment required to be certified. But these are people who sow their fields with those horse-drawn tiller things. They're not using chemicals on their land. The dairy cows roam free, grazing on fresh pasture each day.

Since dairy farming is not very profitable, we're supporting our farm with a fair price for the extra work required to keep the cows healthy and the farm clean to support safe raw milk. In turn, we get the extra nutrients in superior milk. It's a win/win situation for all!

She bangs, she bangs...

I got a quick little haircut while on vacation. All I needed was a little trim to keep everything looking fresh, I wasn't changing my style. Or so I thought...

When she got to my bangs, the stylist asked me if I'm growing them out or if I wanted them trimmed. Ah, the eternal question that has never been answered. I grow them out, hate them, cut them back, grow them out...the cycle perpetuates on forever. I said, I didn't know and asked what the "in" thing was with bangs? Are people wearing bangs? Are they going for a less bangy look? She said the in thing was long, sweepy bangs. I said, "I can rock long sweepy bangs. Do it." Ha ha. How cocky am I? *laughs at self*

It seems I actually CAN rock long sweepy bangs and furthermore, I rather like them. So then I decided to upgrade them by making them...purple. Well, according to the jar it's "Ultra-Violet" and to me it looks like it should be called "Marge Simpson".

Behold, the Margification of my new long sweepy bangs:




Me, trying to look fierce because I feel tough with my new punk rock hair. Remind me to start saving up for Botox if I insist on taking pictures using this facial expression, though.



The overall effect of new cut and new bangs with fun swipe of new color:


And no, I could not resist the temptation to go all matchy-matchy with my eyeliner today. I'll try again tomorrow but my everyday color is a shade of pruney plum anyways...today is Styli-Style Line & Seal in Tanzanite and it's nearly an exact match with the hair! So fun!

I'm just dying for someone to walk up to me and say, "Dude, you have purple hair!" I will give them my best ORLY? face.

The Army has a flat tire

Now that I'm home, I can blog about vacation goings-on. And I'll probably do this in reverse chronological order, because the stuff that happened last is the stuff freshest in my mind.

On the way home yesterday, we were driving through the expansive wasteland that is central Indiana when we came to a screeching halt. Literally. I thought we were going to get rear ended because when the speed limit is 70 and it's sunny and clear, nobody expects to have to stop in the middle of I-65.

As we rolled past the delay, I saw them. Servicemen and women, in camo, setting up flares around their convoy. One of their huge trucks had suffered a blow out and they were stranded on the side of the road.

Now I've always said that I support our troops but I do NOT support the war. I firmly believe that the two aren't mutually exclusive. I do love my country. I do, I really do. But I hate Bush and I hate the status quo and I hate political and corporate corruption. But I support our troops, with my whole heart I do and I know I could never be a military wife or serve myself. However, I didn't expect the deep visceral reaction I had when I saw the unit stranded. Tears sprang up in my eyes and all I could think was "Better here than Baghdad."

Yesterday, CNN.com reported more troops in Iraq dead and wounded. Everyday, some body's son or daughter or husband or wife or father or mother is hurt or killed...and for WHAT? Don't we have enough problems here in our own country to take care of? We can get on with policing the rest of the world when we get our own stuff straight and manage to perfect a Utopian society. Until then, bring the troops home. The Army has a flat tire - literally and metaphorically. It's time to change it.

You know it was a good vacation when...

...you get home and you're like "WHEW! I'm so glad to be back!" :D Which is exactly how we feel.

We took Moose and the Girls to Nana's beach house in Myrtle Beach, SC for a week and a half. Which is totally not my ideal vacation destination, but it's ocean front so who am I to complain? We frolicked in the ocean, ate calabash shrimp, took the girls to the ocean, saw a jellyfish, shopped, took Moose to a Japanese steakhouse and spent some time gloriously lazing about doing nothing. My favorite night? The one I spent on the deck with a glass of Pinot Grigio and an Acid Blue Blondie. Ahhh, life is good.

Photos are posted here on Facebook, with more forthcoming.

Protection

I've learned that our dogs are exceedingly protective of me. It's really sweet. When Tim was gone, the girls staggered themselves around the house at night for maximum guard dog effectiveness. Bella slept on the top back of the couch (imagine an 85 lb. dog sleeping like a cat across the back of the sofa) with her head poked through the front curtains to watch. Katie slept on the landing of the stairs, ready to provide a second line of defense in case of intruders. They usually snooze on the couches. Bella usually sleeps on her back, paws up, as if she were a person. (A person with paws, anyway). It was really precious to see how they altered their habits while Daddy was gone. It made me feel safer. They are both the friendliest dogs ever, and if anybody ever did break in they would probably kiss them to death, but they stepped up and guarded us while we were alone without The Man of the House.

They are still looking out for me, too. Last night I was coming downstairs to turn down the thermostat. I was melting in my sleep! I hit the stairs wrong, half asleep with greasy feet (you know how they say to put lotion on your feet at night & then sleep in cotton socks? I'm convinced the cotton socks are to keep you from falling on your rear if you get up in the middle of the night) and took a tumble. My left arm got wrenched behind me and I rolled down the stairs to the landing. Bella woke with a start, she was immediately on high alert. She let out one quiet bark - "Woof!" as if to say, "Dad!" When there was no response, she barked again - only once, and a little louder, "WOOF!" "DAD!" Both girls ran to my side and started licking my skinned knees and elbows. Tim heard the commotion and came into the hall. I had him go shut the damn thermostat off, then arose on wobbly legs (the girls stood by my side, offering their strong shoulders as support) and headed back up to bed. Katie then decided she would sleep close to me to take care of me, so she spent the rest of the night upstairs with me.

When I awoke this morning, I found out that I hurt myself worse than I thought I did when I was half asleep during the night. I pulled my shoulder, hit my elbow, jammed my wrist, bruised my butt and hit my head. I'm a wreck today. I think it will be a pajama day at home.

Thank God I have the dogs to take care of me!

*swoon* My Hero!

I was on my way upstairs to get Jackson in bed, carrying my bag, Jackson's ba-ba bag (the little cooler bag we put an ice pack in and several milkies for him to have throughout the night), a shopping tote and probably five other things (classic mom/packmule situation) when my bluetooth headset fell out of my bag.

Let's backtrack on the headset. I know, I'm a princess. Blah blah blah. Whatever. Anyway, for Christmas I got a new Jawbone bluetooth headset. It's awesome. I love it. It looks like a cheese grater in my ear. It's fantastic, I highly recommend it. Anyway, it's kind of a pricey headset and I guard it like it's a national treasure. I like nice things, and I also try to take care of them. Especially electronics. My dad was what they call now an "early adopter" and he always had to have the latest and greatest gadgetry. And he would freak out if we used the wrong cleaning spray to dust his new whatever it was off, or if you vacuumed while the TV was on (allegedly it was bad for the TV?) because those expensive electronic toys were like his pets. So you see, my love for new things that light up and make noise is a genetic code in my DNA.

So my headset falls out of my bag (I call it my shark tooth, because it's a bluetooth and the name "jawbone" makes me think of Jaws and he was a shark), Bella sees it and in her peabrain doggie head says, "Ooh a snack!" and promptly takes it through the doggie door to her backyard. At this point I freaking lost it. I am totally feeling massive stress and pressure with this talking in front of church thing. My mom's coming. She's chronically late. Like it's a medical diagnosis for her, Chronicus Tardius. I have to look up the CPT code for ya. Anyways, I am sure that she will be late and then will be mad that we proceeded without her, and then she will get all huffy and yelly and this will look horrible in our new church that we've only been going to for a few months, but we really and truly love it there but I will be SHAMED from every going back after this ugly scene that plays out in my head... And then there's the talking in front of the entire church on stage under the spotlight. Tim sucks at public speaking so the duty has fallen upon me. I used to rock speeches and performances, but they were not nearly as important and ceremonial as my firstborn son's baby dedication in which we will thank God for the honor of having been entrusted with his precious soul and we will pledge before our family and church community to do everything we can to be Godly parents and raise a fine and upstanding Christian man. So the pressure, the pressure...the stress, the strain the pressure and then the dog takes my shark tooth out to the backyard and I. LOSE. IT.

I am all hysterical and weepy and panicky and can't breathe or think or move or do anything but just crumple down into a heap and cry. I'm so pathetic right now. But seriously, first it was the eyeliner and now I'm stressing about memorizing my Bible verses that I want to use for the baby dedication, and worrying about the Chronicus Tardiusness...and I'm like Tweek on South Park....it's TOO MUCH PRESSURE!

Tim comes downstairs and asks me what's wrong and I'm all "I dropped my shark tooth (jagged cry/wail/inhale) and Bella (cry) took it outside (hyperventilate) and it's dark (weep) and I can't (hyperventilate) find it and (wail) it's off (almost scream) so I can't see the light!!!!!!!"

And he grabs his wallet and puts it in his pocket.

And I say, "How is THAT going to help you find it???" He says he's going to Osco to buy a flashlight.

Oh.

Well, that's a good idea.

I slowly start breathing again. And as he heads out the door, I blurt out, "don't forget batteries!" You know, because at this point somehow I have my stuff together more than he does - me the blathering idiot, compared to his collected cool. Ha. He says, "okay".

Five minutes later, he returns and after a fruitful search of the yard he recovered my very mangled shark tooth. The earbud part has been snapped off the part that looks like a cheese grater and I am just so very sad. I really loved my shark tooth.

I sat with it and somehow figured out how to snap the earbud part back into the cheese grater part. I pressed the button, it powered on. I scream, "HOLY CRAP!" from upstairs and Tim comes running...thinking I was having some kind of meltdown again, I suppose. I showed him the blinking light, we made some test calls and voila - just like that - my shark tooth is all better!!!!!

Yay, yippee, hooray!!!! My husband is the most awesome, sweet, mellow and easygoing creature. He is totally the yin to my yang and tonight he was my super rockstar hero.

I told Jackson that if he grows up to be half as wonderful as his father is, I will consider my mothering him to be the success of my life.

Vixen Hunter

My most favoritest eyeliner in the whole world is Revlon Colorstay #205, called "Vixen". This morning, I got to the end of my tube. About a year ago, Coupon Chris scored some BOGO (buy one, get one free) with a coupon that ended up making it BNGT (buy none, get two free - the holy grail of couponing). Chris barely ever wears makeup but she knows I am totally the Queen of Cosmetics so she got me 2 of my favorite eyeliners. They're gone. I wear it almost every day. It's the best color in the world.

Tomorrow is Jackson's baby dedication at church and I was FREAKING OUT about not having my tried and true, trusty perfect eyeliner shade to wear while I stood on stage at church and talked to the hundreds of people.

So we popped in to Target to grab one. They were sold out. I needed some Rescue Remedy. Asking me to go without eyeliner is like asking me to go...naked or something. Tim sees my fright and says, "Meijer is open 24 hours." (It was 10 pm). I breathe a sigh of relief and we go across the street. I'm in the aisle at Meijer, looking at every Revlon Colorstay eyeliner...black, charcoal, brown, blackberry, navy...no Vixen. WHAT??? NO VIXEN????!!!!!111!!! So then I go by number...202, 204, 205...wait. 205 isn't Vixen anymore, 205 is now "Blackberry". Whatever.

If they changed the actual color, my life will be OVER. Okay, that was a little melodramatic but seriously...I've been wearing that same color since it came out, at least for 10 years. It, unlike Beyonce's exboyfriend whose stuff is to the left to the left, is irreplaceable.

Women are amazing...

...of course, you already know this. But here's something you'd never get a dude to do!

Worth a thousand words...

Yet another scandal in government, no big shocker there. What struck me about the article on CNN.com was the photo accompanying it.

His face says either, "I really screwed the pooch on this one." or "I'm sorry I got caught."

His wife's face says, "How could you? I am so broken and betrayed. You slimy greaseball of a man. I can't believe I have to stand by your side for this crap. I deserve better."

My heart is all kinds of sad for her.