She Likes Purple

Oh Yeah, I Went to Comic-Con!

Now, before you seeth with jealousy over my recent trip to San Diego's Comic-Con, you should know I spent 80% of my time in the Smart Pop booth. (And zero time hanging out with the Twilight cast.) I was plenty happy in our booth, of course. I got to meet a lot of seasoned Smart Pop fans and make some new ones, too, and I also got to meet a handful of our (uber-talented) contributors, but I can't imagine that's how you'd like to spend your time at Comic-Con, working the booth of a company you don't actually work for. It would probably make questions about our books a little awkward for you.

For your viewing pleasure, though, our booth!

We passed out every book we brought to pass out, and while some people just like free stuff, no matter what that free stuff might be, many people were genuinely thrilled to get a copy of one of our books, and that was such a cool feeling. I wanted to hug every single thrilled person but that might have been weird, even for Comic-Con.

I will say that one thing I really loved about the show was how excited everyone was about everything. There were plenty of weird attendees and plenty of over-confident girls whose costumes made me come very close to shouting, HEY, YOU, YOUR ASS! IT IS RIGHT IN FRONT OF US ALL! But, mainly, I was surrounded by lots of talent (from artists to web comic developers to writers to bloggers to media) and lots of people who both loved what they were promoting and loved what we were promoting. It was just a really cool, passionate group of people.

I've decided I like really cool, passionate people.

It was also exhausting. Ten-hour convention days and socializing at night isn't for the weak, let me tell you. But I tend to like exhausting. It's a setting I know quite well.

Anyway, that's the short recap of my (awesome) time in San Diego. I'll round up where we ate and drank in another post. I still need to write about where we stayed in Colorado, too. Someone remind me to do both those things next week!

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I'll keep this giveaway up through Sunday night, I've decided. Winner to be announced Monday, so comment comment comment. Well, just comment once. But saying it three times is for extra encouragement.

Headboard Inspiration

A while ago I saw this above-the-bed design on Simple Fancies and it became inspiration for my own bedroom. Instead of a mirror in between the two framed photos, I love the look of this map-covered letter from Urban Outfitters.

Although, I'd like the map to mean a little something, so maybe I can DIY my own letter with my own map?

In white frames on either side of the letter, I want to frame a photo from a trip we've taken together. I have some photos I'm deciding between. What do you think?

Now, we just have to get from inspiration to the real thing. I'll keep you posted.

1000th Post Giveaway!

This is my 1000th post.

That is quite a lot of words.

Some of my favorite posts, in case you're new or interested or have reached the end of the internet and care to travel down internet memory lane with me:

My Love List
So Far, So Long
Secret Super-fan
Timeline Seventeen
There We Were, Here We Are
First Letter
I Hope I'm Wrong
More Than You
Keeping Up
The Year of the Rat
I Hope He's Found Her

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I started a blog on MySpace and moved it over to Typepad on a whim one night in 2007 while Mike watched The Sopranos. I'm damn glad I didn't like that show and needed something to distract me from it. New blog tagline: Brought to You by Tony Soprano's Annoying Face.

Anyway, I don't know if you read often or just stop by every now and then or stumbled upon this space on this particular day because you were Googling random things about Veronica Mars but, oh boy, am I grateful you are here, no matter how often.

I wanted to host a little giveaway, to celebrate reaching 1,000 posts. I mean, that's worth celebrating, right? Having THAT much to say is a feat. An endlessly chatty feat!

What would be more perfect to give away than champagne flutes? My love of bubbles is well-documented (oh look, lots and lots of champagne), and even if you don't love them nearly as much as I do (how could you, really?), you should still have pretty glasses to drink from.

 

Two flutes, from Crate and Barrel, to anyone living in (or claiming an address in) the U.S. The bottle of champagne will have to be on you, but if you're looking for someone to sip with you, let me know!

Just comment below. You can comment with anything, favorite book right now, new favorite artist you've discovered, favorite Etsy shop, favorite thing you've cooked this week, something you're looking forward to, anything at all.

(I'll pick a randomly selected winner by Friday. Or Monday. Depending on how busy Friday shapes up to be.)

***

Last night, Kyle turned to me and said, "Claire called and is coming over to play and have juice." He was so sure that had happened, and when I asked him how she had called, he looked at me, annoyed, and said, "On the phone, Mommy." Like, GOD WOMAN, YOU ARE DENSE.

Kyle only knows Claire because A'Dell and I met through blogging.

I have a million other stories I could share just like that one. Stories that remind me why blogging is so grand. It's brought me good, good things, and I'll do it until the day it stops.

If More Texans Knew San Deigo Existed, We'd Have a State Full of Alcoholics

When I got to San Diego, last Tuesday, it was 70 degrees. I sat outside for a half hour waiting for a city bus and didn't sweat once. I needed a cardigan at night! I ... could go on and on but won't.

It wasn't bad, basically. It wasn't bad at all.

More details to come from my trip to Comic-Con (I stood a foot away from Aziz Ansari, aka Tom Haverford!), but my inbox is, for now, very very angry with me.

Leaving, Growing, Frustrating

I leave tomorrow for San Diego for nearly a week, and I thought I'd schedule posts to go live while I'm gone (I always think I'll schedule posts to go live while I'm gone) but I haven't even begun packing yet, and I leave tomorrow morning. So. You know. Possibly not.

I'm excited because I'm always excited to go somewhere. New place, new food, new sights, new people. I get a rush from it all, and I'm also excited to market our books. I think we put out some really fun titles, so I like to tell people about them. (Hey, will you be at Comic-Con? Swing by Booth B4 for a mess of free stuff and fun signings, if so!)

I'm also equally excited to return from Comic-Con and get back into a routine. My lands, I've been going non-stop since mid-May, feels like, and I just need a little downtime to cook again, clean again, and work-out again.

Speaking of, oh my my my friends, I have been a bad little runner/half-marathon trainee. I run 13.1 miles in less than five months, and I haven't run longer than two miles in two months. (Ouch, that hurt to type.) I also haven't consistently cooked or consistently worked-out in any other significant way. It's showing in my waistline and in how I feel, all-around.

Yeah, I blame an insane workload and travel schedule this summer and it's SO FLIPPING HOT OUTSIDE the only activity I really enjoy is complaining about the weather, but life can be kind of consistently, regularly, always insane, you know? It's crazy now and it'll be crazy again and will I ever get this life-work-health balance down?

(I sure as hell hope so.)

I had this entire post I wanted to write months ago about telling ourselves no, just like we tell our kids no. If I wouldn't let Kyle have three helpings of dessert, why let myself? I know what's best for him but I apparently don't know what's best for me? Crazy talk! I do know! Sometimes he does get chocolate milk for breakfast and sometimes so should I, but not for every breakfast, no sir, because that's kind of crazy irresponsible. (And expensive, I'd think.)

That post was going to be good, I could feel it, but then I allowed myself to have chocolate milk (or the equally irresponsible equivalent) for breakfast enough times to feel like a fraud, so I waited.

Still waiting.

I've been reading a lot of healthy living and running-type blogs lately because they're inspiring. They're not about tossing champagne out the window (how sad would that window be?) but about balance. They're about working hard to play hard and I love that. I want that. I'm struggling with that. Oh am I. And, sure, some of it is the schedule and the workload and the HEAT OMG THE HEAT but some of it is just me, my self-destructive tendencies, my perfectionism, my personality. I'm not an easy person to be sometimes, and this is one of those times.

So, I'm in a bit of a frustrated phase, eager to move out of it, hopeful for some free time when I'm back to focus on healthy living and balance but, also, acknowledging that this is where I am today. It ain't great but it still is.

I don't know why I feel the urge to share with you every misstep and obstacle I face. I could just call up Natalie and vent and leave you with pictures of Kyle, and we'd all be none the wiser. Except that there's always one of you out there who says exactly the right thing, the thing I print out and carry with me, in a pocket or purse or taped to my day planner, the one thing I credit for getting me to the not-so-frustrated point. I am so thankful for those words, for your words, when they come, because I always, always need them.

I keep being honest because, in return, you keep throwing me life rafts.

Roadtrip Details!

Blue was the drive there. Red was the drive home.

There being Gateway, Colorado, where we stayed for two nights to celebrate Mike's cousin getting married. All about the resort and what we did while there for another post. But, today, THE ROADTRIP!

Day 1

We stopped in Amarillo for lunch (we got burgers to-go from Coyote Bluff), made a quick stop at Cadillac Ranch and then got to Santa Fe around 6 pm or so. Each time we'd stop for gas or a bathroom break or at a rest stop to let Molly stretch her legs, Kyle would clap his hands and say, "WE MADE IT! WE'RE HERE!" Oh, sweet sweet boy, if we ever take you on vacation to a Texaco in far West Texas, go ahead and retract our Parents of the Year award.

Also, upon spotting mountains in New Mexico, Kyle said, "What IS that, Mommy?" with wide eyes. "Oh nothing, just beautiful landscape you'll rarely get to see because we're raising you a Texan, but our housing costs are really reasonable!"

Day 2

We got an early start (and a lot of coffee) and drove up through Colorado. Durango was beautiful, the mountains were spectacular, and the roads ... curvy. We all got a little queasy. Kyle got a lot queasy and puked all over himself and then needed a quick cuddle in the back seat before we continued on.

Poor guy.

We got to Gateway about 4 pm, after driving up through the beautiful canyons of Western Colorado.

Day 4

After breakfast in Gateway, we drove up and into Utah where there were no public bathrooms for many, many miles. MANY MILES IN ALL CAPS EVEN. I was reaching the point of having to either pee my own pants or pee on the side of the road. The GPS/Smart Phone wasn't being very helpful, either, to tell us where the next restroom might be, so it was getting pretty bad. (And I have an impressive bladder, you should know! I can hold it for Olympic-like times.) Finally, I made Mike pull over and I pulled my pants down on the side of the highway (on the other side of the car, of course), ass out for all of Utah to see. Desperate times and all. I got back in the car and Kyle said, "Daddy saw your butt, Mommy." Not the first time, son. Not even the first time in public.

We spent most of the afternoon in Arches National Park and, wow, if you ever doubt America is spectacularly beautiful country, go there immediately. It'll leave you speechless. Mike and I talked about  one day returning to camp overnight, when Kyle's older. It was my favorite part of the trip, I think. Just looking out on this vast world, where everywhere you turn is another postcard view. I loved it.

We left and drove through Moab and into New Mexico, to try and make it to the Four Corners before sunset. A storm and curvy roads slowed us down, so we missed it by five minutes and hadn't planned anywhere to stay. (Yeah. That caused the first and only fight of the trip, I can't lie.)

We ended up in Farmington, N.M., at a random Best Western. I fell asleep within five minutes of laying down.

Day 5

We got up and backtracked to the Four Corners where I kept yelling, "KYLE'S IN UTAH! WE'RE IN COLORADO! OH NO!" He looked at me, at one point, and said, "Mommy, no yelling." Oh, he's in for a world of disappointment if that's how he prefers it.

We then drove to Shiprock ... Rock? I don't even know what it's called! It was a sight Mike really wanted to see, and it was pretty cool, admittedly, this jutting rock in an otherwise flat land. Molly got to run around as far as she wanted, and she was fairly pleased. See:

From there we drove to Albuquerque through Gallup and then drove and drove and drove to Roswell, convinced it would be a funky little town with quirky people and places. No offense to anyone who lives or loves Roswell, but it was the most ordinary town I've ever set foot in. A local suggested we eat at Golden Corral when I asked where a tourist should stop to eat. Yelp! suggested Denny's.

We left, skipping dinner and not looking back, and we drove and drove and drove some more. The drive out of dodge (Roswell) and into Texas was actually kind of wonderful. Just today I read a piece in Grantland, an oral history of Friday Night Lights (and you know how much I love this show by now), and in it Sarah Aubrey, an executive producer of the show, spoke about one of the final scenes they filmed: "The sky is that only-in-Texas pink sky as the sun is starting to set." I choked up because, well, yes. I know that sky. It sounds funny, to say the sky is different in Texas, but it's just about my favorite part of the entire state. The sky alone has kept me here, at times, I think, and it welcomed us back home after days away. We grumble about the weather and a million other things but when we crossed that state line, we both smiled, we couldn't hide it.

We got home, late late late, and I thought Kyle would refuse his bed, pitch a fit and demand to sleep with us, after so many nights of sharing a room in multiple hotels. But, I laid him down, he looked at me and said, "Turn off the lights, Mommy."

So, I did.

One family vacation behind us. Many more ahead, I hope.

What to Do in Santa Fe: Grand Gold Margaritas at Zia Diner

We were in Santa Fe for just about 12 hours and 8-9 of those were spent snoozing. I must go back soon, though, because it's a beautifully unique city with a really cool vibe. Unlike any other city, I'd say. I can't compare it to another, and I love that. Also, once the sun goes down, even in early July, the cool breezes blow in. Let's just say, Texas does not do that.

We downloaded a pretty cool app pre-trip, TVFoodMaps, and checked out all the spots in Santa Fe that had been featured on some of our favorite shows. We settled on Zia Diner for dinner, and it was a nice choice. I wasn't blown away by the food (I had the poached egg and grilled cheese BLT while Mike had the smoked salmon quesadilla), but it didn't disappoint.

What did blow me away, though, was the Grand Gold margarita (on the rocks). It's a simply made drink -- gold tequila, grand marnier, lime juice, salt on the rim -- but it was made perfectly and was one of the best margaritas I've had in a long, long time.

Sit on the patio, when you go. Margaritas just taste better on a patio. Fact.

Miles & Miles

2460 miles, to be exact.

Our family roadtrip is over, sadly. Well, sadly for my heart but not-so-sadly for my ass. 2400+ miles of car sitting is serious(ly painful) business.

Anyway, I have 15 separate posts I want to write inspired by the trip but, sadly, a full inbox waits for no woman (to post blogs). I also leave again this coming Tuesday morning for a work trip to Comic-Con (that's not an oxymoron, I swear) so the posts may be spaced out.

Over many years.

The trip was unexpectedly fantastic, though. I knew we should go, for many reasons, but I wasn't prepared for how much I'd enjoy it. All that driving and cheap-motel-staying and toddler-entertaining and gas-station-food-eating and mile-marker counting sounds a little awful, right? And that's before I mention we took Molly with us. OUR CRAZY, TIGHTLY WOUND DOG. On a road trip for thousands of miles! I don't really understand us either. I emailed Jonna just today and said, basically, that this is why we can't have more children. Because we come up with ideas that drive us all mad. Beautifully mad, sure, but mad all the same. It really was exhausting -- on Thursday night, I laid next to Kyle around 8:30 pm to rub his back as he fell asleep and I woke up ten hours later, no recollection of how that had happened --  but it was also incredible, seeing so much of the beautiful states we visited and spending so much of that time just us four. Turns out, I really like my family. No matter how many times I said through clenched teeth, "OMG STOP WHINING RIGHT THIS INSTANT."

No matter how many family members I said this to.

(More than one!)

Here are just a few photos, from our whirlwind travels, and 500 more will be put up on Flickr before 2012. Also, look forward to the future trip-related post that will include the story of how I got naked in public. Oh, don't act so surprised.

Texas Forever

I spend a lot of time online -- marketing for work, blogging for fun, spending all our money on Etsy -- but it still feels a little strange when I blur the lines. For instance, when I talk about work here. I imagine some of you don't particularly care that I market books all day, but when my job includes a book on Friday Night Lights, I get twitchy at the prospect of not telling you about it.

There is no better show on tv now or ever, in my opinion, and I know that betrays my deep-rooted and everlasting love for Veronica Mars, but I betray because I must. The show is stunning in its brilliance and its subtlety, sometimes both in the same scene. It's not perfect, and it's not like any other show I've ever seen, but it's the best show I've ever watched, both by episode and overall. I like to say we named Kyle after Kyle Chandler, and although that's a big, fat lie, Coach Taylor's portrayer would be a damn good namesake.

It ends its five-year run next Friday on NBC. I've seen the finale (it aired on DirecTV this spring), but I will re-watch it again through my sobs, I'm sure, and I'll be reminded that amidst all the reality tv (that I watch, admittedly) and crappy sitcoms that still employ a laugh track, and dramas that are as predictable as they are cheesy, there is still tv out there to love, to be proud of, to remember.

I know, it's just tv. But, then again, it's not. If you've ever found a show you really and truly love, you know it's not.

In our book, A Friday Night Lights Companion (with an intro by Deadspin founder, Will Leitch), there are heartfelt and smart essays on what we love about this show and why and even a little on each character (try not to nod along to the few pages devoted to why we love Tim Riggins). It's a great read, and you can get it NOW on Kindle and next month in paperback. You can and should read Jonna's essay on the Taylors' perfectly imperfect marriage, specifically.

One of the passages I've re-read a zillion times is from Jacob Clifton's "Come Home: West Texas Identities" because it reminds me so much of what I feel as a liberal woman who's lived in conservative Texas for 18 years:

"There is no conservative lock on patriotism, any more than liberals have a monopoly on charity. But liberal patriotism feels like nitpicking, the attempt to create a better country through constant complaint, and conservative charity looks suspiciously like church."

The whole book is that good and both on the show itself and the bigger picture the show paints for us.

Anyway, I think you should absolutely read the book (and watch the show, my god, if you aren't already). In fact, if you have a blog (book-focused or not) and want to review the book on your blog, here's your lucky day. I have ten review copies to give out. (Edited to add: these aren't giveaway copies, unfortunately, but review copies for bloggers! Sorry if that wasn't clear.)

Just leave a comment or email me at shelikespurple AT gmail.com. I'll put a copy in the mail to you as soon as I can, if you're one of the first comments or emails.

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(And, hey, if you don't like books or Friday Night Lights or me talking about work, big apologies! I won't do it that often, pinky swear.) 

Can't Buy But Can Covet

Pretty, huh?

Kyle Keeps Saying, "Mommy Broke the Car!" Which is Both Inaccurate and a Little Mean.

On Wednesday, I went to Quizno's for lunch. For many of you, this would be enough to make Wednesday a shitty day. There are so many of you out there, I've found, who do not enjoy a toasty Quizno's sandwich, but I am not one of the many because it's one of my favorite sandwich joints around. This makes you lose considerable respect for the food blog I manage, I'm sure, and that's even before I tell you how often I make this delicious dessert for myself.

Anyway, if that would make Wednesday a shitty day for you, JUST WAIT.

I got my sandwich to go, to take back to work, but when I went to start the car, the car ... well, it didn't start. (I just typed nine different variations of that sentence with the word fuck in them, but I deleted them all. I believe this is a sign of maturity.) Anyway, I did what we all would do in this situation. I kept trying to start the car. I was sure I was just IMAGINING the clicking, grinding sound the engine was making and if I just tried one more time, it would miraculously start right up!

I think I accepted my reality around time 48.

I then did what probably very few of you would do in my situation, before I called Mike or a coworker or AAA or Natalie, I ate my sandwich. Yep, that's right. I wanted to enjoy it and I knew my life was about to get shittier before it got less shitty, so I enjoyed my Baja Chicken right there in the parking lot while I started to sweat (it was 104 outside; good timing asshole Passat!).

Long story short, my car was towed to the shop, the shop couldn't get to it until the next day, Natalie was the saint of a best friend who picked me up from work that evening and drove me the hour to my house and then the hour back to her house and she didn't call me a single name, at least not one I could hear.

Yesterday evening, the shop called to give us the official diagnosis.

Guys.

It wasn't good.

Let's just say I can think of a million other ways I'd rather spend $800.

It has gotten a wee bit better since then because Mike (that gloriously talented man I married) thinks he can fix at least one thing himself, but he did go out last night without complaint to buy me TWO bottles of champagne (although he had to buy the really, really cheap, twist-off-cap stuff, because we're now broke, which made me depressed enough to need another bottle).

We had a family vacation planned for next weekend, a roadtrip up to Colorado, through New Mexico. We were going to introduce Kyle to Mike's dad's side of the family, 95% of whom haven't met him yet. It was going to be a refreshing break from the heat and a little time for my little family before I jet off on another work trip in a couple weeks. I don't know if we can take that trip now, and that makes me EVEN MORE DEPRESSED, MAKE THAT FOUR BOTTLES OF CHEAP CHAMPAGNE.

Hey, you know, this is normal life-type stuff. I know that in the grand scheme of problems, having to pay out the ass for a car fix is irritating but also normal. Having to (possibly; we're still weighing some options) cancel a (much-needed and much-anticipated) family trip sucks but there will be another trip, another opportunity. Life is full of disappointments, you know? That's never going to change. Doesn't mean it doesn't suck, but it also doesn't mean freaking out and losing my head is going to make anything better.

Not that I didn't totally freak out and lose my head anyway, of course.

So, cross your fingers for car miracles, winning lottery tickets, and a bottle of the good stuff in my future.

(Thanks, you.)