She Likes Purple

Halfway through November, and it's still too damn hot in Texas for me

We had a busy weekend. So busy, in fact, there was no time for a nap. And, well, napping is one of those things I deem Very Important These Days. Right up there with chocolate and comfortable shoes. (Note: these shoes do not look comfortable, yet I cannot stop staring at them.)

We spent roughly 9,000 hours on Saturday crib shopping, and although it was something we wanted (and needed) to do, my feet began killing me in my H&M flats around hour one. By hour 9,000, I looked longingly at Mike and said, "Baby, if you don't pick a crib, I'll be just fine letting our boy sleep in a box." We decided on this one shortly thereafter:

We should have it soon, and then we can slowly begin piecing the nursery together so the Internet can see pictures. Of course our child needs to eventually sleep somewhere, but don't think your feedback isn't motivation enough to get my act together.

Also bought this weekend was a desk I had planned to purchase almost a year ago. (Someone has a very interesting concept of "follow through," I know.) The goal is to set up a small office area in our bedroom for me to work and write from while on maternity leave. A work space also gave me a nice excuse to ask for this for Christmas because nothing says organized like a very expensive place to keep your loved ones' addresses. Also cute folders from Anthropologie.

After the crib shopping, we went on a double date with some friends to a nearby resort hotel to see a hand-carved ice sculpture exhibit. It was ridiculously overpriced but also very cool (you can see a few pictures here). Funny accurate pregnant cliche, though: your body temperature really does get seriously out of control while cooking a human child. Where the average person finds 4 degrees (the temperature inside the exhibit) uncomfortably cold, I rather enjoyed the break from all the sweating in November I've been doing.

My mom and I spent some time together yesterday—at the movies and shopping—and once we were home from all that, I collapsed on the couch and began to eat a hot fudge sundae for dinner. My mom, on the other hand, looked at me sweetly and said, "Do you have any laundry for me to fold?" NO YOU CANNOT HAVE HER. So even though I didn't get a nap, I did find a way to get my laundry folded without ever having to lift a finger, and, I'm sorry, but no matter what else we did this weekend, that makes the last couple days a crazy success.

Finally, we have a few Christmas parties coming up along with a couple baby showers (for us!), and because none of the invitations mention lounge pants being suitable attire (unfortunately), I've been looking for a maternity dress that is neither frumpy nor made of that horrible stretchy, almost-shiny fabric I've found maternity designers are big fans of. I finally found one at GAP and it's lovely but it's also nearly $80. That's kind of a lot, isn't it?, for a dress I know I won't get much use of in just a few short months. But, I feel gross and large and lumpy most days, and it would be nice to wear something that makes me feel pretty for the first time in quite a while. I'm torn, Internet, and I need your help. What do you think:

And, hey, what shoes/accessories would you pair with it? 

26 weeks

I had a check-up today for me and baby, and I'm happy to report all is well and good for both of us. The scale, on the other hand, threw me for a bit of a loop, as I've now gained about 13 pounds this pregnancy and, um, a nice, big chunk of those pounds were put on this past month. Now I know this is no time to start counting calories, but I think it's time for me to be a tad more conscious of what I'm stuffing into my mouth and stomach. Perhaps fewer Almond Joys and more salads?

I do go back Monday for my glucose test, which I'm not really dreading even though I know I should. I have to be at the office for an hour, so I'm either going to finally beat my high score in BrickBreaker, or I'll irritate all the lab techs by continuing to read "Charlotte's Web" aloud to the baby.

One lovely little 26-week development I wasn't really expecting, though, is the onset of acid reflux. Wow, that's a total buzzkill, isn't it? If you can't agree with me because you've never experienced it yourself THEN DO I ENVY YOU LIKE YOU WOULDN'T BELIEVE. I can't eat anything these days without remembering exactly what I consumed for hours afterwards because it is burning the back of my throat. I like pizza more than the average girl, don't get me wrong, but I don't necessarily like to taste pizza four hours after I eat it for lunch as I'm watching Oprah.

Oh, pregnancy. It's beautiful, miraculous and, quite frankly, just plain gross.

Since I'm gaining weight (at such an impressive speed!) and am officially knocking things off desks and counters with nothing more than my stomach, I have had to expand (ha) my wardrobe over the last few weeks. Our budget write-up at the end of the month is going to have more Old Navy totals than I originally thought it would, but I can't very well walk around naked or exposing my belly in a regular shirt. I suppose I could—I mean I did for our belly shoot—but even those "artsy" and deliberate shots and poses earned a comment that said something along the lines of, It may be time for a maternity shirt. You can just imagine what the nice people in our local grocery store are thinking. So, maternity clothes, I have succumbed. Time and a place for everything, right?

I'm still not nesting in the way neither Mike nor I would prefer, meaning the laundry is still not getting done and our pots are still going unused, but I have become obsessed with taking pictures of my shoes each morning! Sorry, kiddo, your nursery is still in shambles but your mama did manage to wear heels on Election Day!

So, we're at 26 weeks, and Mike (finally!) felt an undeniable, couldn't-argue-with-it kick the other night. Our son likes to move and flop and kick on a pretty regular basis, but he doesn't seem interested in performing for anyone other than his mother, and I understand, kiddo, you're no one's monkey. To think you wouldn't be just a wee bit stubborn with all those genes of your father's swimming around in you was completely my mistake. Just between you and me, though, there are like a million other qualities of his I hope you get, as well. Hope you're well in there.

Weekend Update

Well, it seems trick-or-treating isn't what it used to be. The past couple years we lived in a duplex on a quiet, poorly-lit cul-de-sac, so I excused the pathetic trick-or-treating turnout on logistics and not on the universal opting out of the tradition. But, this year, in our very well-lit, very open suburban neighborhood, we had roughly five trick-or-treaters. Those five were adorable, don't get me wrong, but it was a tad disappointing after all the trouble Mike went through to make our front entryway especially spooky. Not disappointing: all the Almond Joys and mini-Twix bars that won't consume themselves, forcing me to eat a few (thousand) for the team.

We also left the house long enough on Saturday night to attend the tail-end of a Halloween party thrown by some great friends, which I did not dress up for because costume shopping is frustrating enough without having to add a few extra x's to your size. Sure, a slutty nurse or pirate or cop is all well and good until you add a basketball-sized belly to the equation and then things just get ... more awkward than sexy, you know? So, I wore a regular dress and regular shoes and regular makeup and left the costuming for Mike (who went as a seventies disco dancer). Someone at the party—someone rather tipsy at the party—did muster up the courage to say to me, "Oh, you came as a pregnant woman. That's funny." And when I told him—yes, ha HA—I dress up as such each and every day, he got quiet and said, "So you're actually pregnant. Does that mean you're crazy and emotional and bitchy?" Let me tell ya, nothing calms those pregnancy hormones like someone asking if you're bitchy.

Speaking of being pregnant, one other thing we checked off our to-do list this weekend was pregnancy photos. We didn't have the budget for professional pictures, but I knew I wanted to at least attempt some focus-on-the-big-belly poses and shots, so Mike whipped out our tripod and also his impressive skills, and we made the best of a nearby park, the nice (FOR SPRING) weather and a free Saturday morning. I am glad we have these pictures, and because it was relatively free to take them, I think we'll do it again when I'm even bigger (the concept of me getting bigger than I am now blows my mind in ways you couldn't believe), but being a model is no easy work, and I needed an afternoon nap like never before once we wrapped the shoot.

Here's a link to our favorites of the day, and here's my actual favorite:

Sure, our hand-heart is a bit off-centered, but we look so happy and in love. What you don't know—until now, since I'm about to tell you—is that we look so happy and in love because we're genuinely laughing due to the fact that just five seconds before the click of the camera went off, Mike had to sprint from where he set up the tripod to where I was standing, and then he had to immediately bury his face in my neck in this previously-decided-upon pose while trying to achieve a very candid, not-forced feel. We couldn't stop laughing, so if you're wondering the key to a great photography session, here it is: AWKWARD RUNNING. You're welcome for that nugget of wisdom, and I won't even make you pay me for it.

Annnnnd, awkwardly segueing into buying things, we've begun meticulously saving our receipts and charting our spending for the month of November, so we can set up a very realistic and much-needed budget for December (and the subsequent months). Just three days in, and I already realize we spend entirely too much money on donuts, which is something I take full responsibility for. Sometimes nothing satisfies a sweet-tooth craving like a chocolate eclair. I also stopped in Old Navy this weekend to look for a few (inexpensive) maternity pieces to get me through this really infuriating time of the year I like to call, When Texas Acts Like an Asshole. (High for today: 81. Current season: FALL, DAMMIT.) I picked up this (maternity henley; in cyclamen, which is dark pink, let's cut the fancy names here, Old Navy) and this (non-maternity dress; in black) in insanely different sizes. The poor teenage cashier looked mighty confused when I told him no gift receipt was necessary, they were both for me, actually.

So, what did you do this weekend? And how much Halloween candy do you have leftover for me to munch on?      

Recession? I'm Unfamiliar.

Our kid's bedding, already purchased and paid for:

We opted not to get the rug or the mobile, but the rest of the set is our boy's. He better appreciate it, too, because you know what the set didn't come with? THINGS FOR HIS MOTHER.

Next up, these:

Because he's my kid, right? And good footwear is sort of par for the course.

I did go browsing for some clothes for myself today because I'm officially making my pre-pregnancy clothes work a little too hard. While looking at Old Navy, I saw a purse I loved, and it's Old Navy, so I almost didn't look at the price before adding it to my bag and then HOLY SHIT THAT OLD NAVY PURSE WAS NEARLY $60. How is that possible?

It's pretty, yes, but Old Navy, you can't just go around having overpriced J. Crew moments and get away with it.

I have decided, though, something about maternity clothes in general: I don't like them. Progress has been made in maternity fashion, don't get me wrong, and we have options when it comes to panels now, thank god, but I much prefer going up a size or two to wearing actual maternity things. There are still plenty of things I own that I can still wear (a lot of pieces I shied away from wearing before because they made me look pregnant, funny enough), and I'd rather stock up on more pieces like those than purchasing maternity clothes that make me look, well, like I draped a tent around me and called it a day.

See, I could probably pull this dress off (in the right size) for an upcoming baby shower:

But, wait, I think it may be ugly. (Edited to add: But I also kind of like it, so insult tactfully, my friends.)

Oh, and we have a baby gender guesser winner. I added up all the names (from both posts) of readers who guessed boy (only one guess per reader, though) and then wrote them out in no particular order. I asked Mike to pick a number (without seeing the list, of course), and Angella was selected. Now, the gift is a surprise because I totally waited UNTIL I knew who won to choose it (more personal), but I'll share once she has it.

Thanks for all the guesses and, again, thanks for caring and supporting us through the last rollercoaster of a week. I ... just ... there aren't words, okay, and if there were, they wouldn't be nearly good enough for each of you.

What I Would Own if Money or Large Bellies Were No Object

I haven't been shopping much lately, which may explain why Mike and I so rarely fight these days (other than over our kid's name; that fight is likely to live forever). I can't rationalize spending gobs of money on clothes I can only wear for a few weeks/months (please, sweet Jesus, let clothes that fit me now no longer fit in a year). Yet, I can't rationalize spending money on clothes that I can't fit into for, at least, another year. I can't rationalize spending money on accessories I used to pick up without much forethought because that money could be better spent on a little thing called a HOSPITAL-STAY DEPOSIT. I, also, can't rationalize spending money on make-up when I can't seem to find the energy to APPLY THE MAKEUP I ALREADY OWN.

As you can see, it's hard to part with money these days. Another symptom of pregnancy I wasn't expecting along with the ability to lose my shit at the drop of a hat.

But, what would I be buying if I were able to spend someone else's money for someone else's body? Let me tell you:

Lofty cashmere shawl-collar sweater, $218  (in royal violet)

Oh, J. Crew. You tempt me with your monthly catalogs, you e-mail me with sales (and more sales). You are like an abusive ex-boyfriend I CANNOT STOP THINKING ABOUT. A really expensive boyfriend who comes in a variety of stunning colors and textures.

Watercolor garden Lydia blouse, $110.

I really love this. It's not a pattern for everyone, I know, but with those dark-washed jeans and that 110-pound figure, it's really quite the look. Now, on me, it would look like I wrapped a mural around myself.

Lulu leather ballet flats, $160.

These shoes literally made me drool.

"I Am Thankful For" card from Paper Source, $7 for 10 cards.

Send a note to friends and family to let them know you're thinking of them. Thanksgiving isn't just for mashed potatoes unless you're knocked up and then you started a countdown for those potatoes in mid-July.

 

Superhero "Earth' necklace, $99.

These are all the rage around the blogosphere, and I've wanted one for more than a year now. Really stunning and really out of my necklace budget.

Francesca's "Nightfall" dress in midnight, $44.

OPI nail color, $9

Colors I'd love to pick up: Madame President, Mr. Right Now,  Brainiac, On Stage, Ms. Can't Be Wrong, Beauty Junkie, Metro Chic

Nine West violet clutch, $49.99.

Banana Republic smokey teardrop earring, $39.

Dooney & Bourke "Hayden" patent leather shoulder bag, $500.

Again, just a hair out of my handbag budget, but such a nice bag for fall/winter.

Piperlime Bandolino "Pammy" heels in navy multi pattern, $69.

Fossil "Lissa" cardigan, $68.

GAP jersey skirt, $38.

I actually might buy this anyway. Stretchy, black. Heavenly words for a woman who will soon need her own zip code.

Any chance these items will still be available when I drop 100 pounds and win the lottery?

Important Decisions

I was browsing through a Pottery Barn Kids catalog this weekend, and I could not stop laughing and oohing and ahhing at this Halloween costume:

A giraffe! Oh lord, having children is totally worth it if you are allowed to dress them up like this. I'll wait until the post-Halloween sale to see if any of the $59 price tag is knocked off, but it comes in all sizes, so next Halloween our kid is totally giraffing it up.

Since we don't have a kid this Halloween, we'll just have to do what we usually do: torture the dog. We're going to Barktoberfest for the second year in a row, and we have to decide how to dress Molly. Last year she was a lobster:

She was also a total asshole, which is why this is the best picture I have of her in her costume. You can bet we'll bring a tighter leash and also perhaps a Taser with us this year.

I'd like to choose something adorable-slash-traditional and dress her as a pumpkin:

Mike would like to dress her as a Dalmatian (as in, put her in a white T-shirt covered in DRAWN-ON black spots). He thinks this would be hilarious. (His words: "a dog dressed as another dog! GET IT!") I think this will embarrass the poor thing even more than the pumpkin. HANDMADE? I'm just not sure our little girl has it in her to be so ... granola.

What do YOU think? Pumpkin? Dalmatian?

We also started our baby registry this weekend. When we registered for our wedding, we knocked it out all in one day, and this prompted roughly 65 separate fights. Since I am far more mature and patient these days, I decided baby registering was going to need to be a project with phases. Phase One: Register for Seven Items in Twenty Minutes Then Once the Novelty Has Worn Off Go Eat Chicken Express. Phases Two Through Four: To Come. We registered for one pack of bottles, a toy, some plain white onesies and a video monitor. We'll go back in another month or so once we find out what we're having.

But—and I'm asking for this advice so let it rip—what baby products did you love/hate/need/waste money on/etc? What do you wish someone would have told you about registering? I'll print out your comments and take them with me next time. This will give me something to do after Mike pries the registry gun from my hands and shouts OUT LOUD in the baby aisle, "I NOW HAVE ALL THE POWER!"

(Your suggestions will all be much appreciated, I promise, but we may blatantly ignore some of them and buy the changing table/bassinet/etc anyway, even if you swear we won't use it. We're sort of annoying like that.)

Finally, I, well, finally, uploaded pictures from my semi-recent trip to San Francisco. You'll notice I have four total pictures from BlogHer. I wasn't drinking, obviously, but I was apparently not documenting either. What was I doing? I'm not entirely sure. You can view all (FOUR!) of those pictures here, along with pictures from the rest of my visit. You can see much better BlogHer pictures on just about any other Flickr stream out there.

Now, off to work. It may be early Tuesday morning, but it sure feels like Monday. Three-day weekends: lovely except that just like two-day weekends, they end.

Goodbye

Not goodbye forever—don't get all dramatic on me now—but for a few days while we gallivant out of town to visit family. Also, don't be jealous because even though the time there will be wonderful (it always is) the drive to get there can only be described as: GAHGRRRSHOOTMENOWAHHHHH. And we're making the drive in my uncomfortable Saturn with a dog in the backseat who every now and then likes to crawl up and lay on her mom's lap while forgetting she is FORTY POUNDS.

But, again, the time there will be great. There will be eating and fireworks and naps and time with our nephew and all of those really good things holiday weekends are best known for. I hope your weekend is also filled with good things. Even if you're Canadian (hi to you!) because a weekend is a weekend, am I right?

::

Just a quick shopping aside: I need a laptop tote [that has a strap so not a laptop sleeve] before next Monday. Any great suggestions? Links? Old ones you aren't using? Kidding! Kind of! If I can't track one down, I may just have to carry mine around with me in my over-sized purse and glare at anyone who bumps into me too hard. I'm going to be such a HIT at BlogHer, can't you just tell?

And speaking of, I leave in ONE WEEK FROM MONDAY, OH MY LORD, WHERE DID THE TIME GO? I'm so excited (only a tiny bit nervous), but I do need to ask, quickly, if anyone can recommend a good lunch place for one afternoon I'll be near Union Square with a friend. I'm from the area, but my favorite restaurant when I left was Baker's Square. (Note: I was ten when I left. Baker's Square—what with all that pie—was pretty damn cool to a ten-year-old.)

::

Enjoy your weekend. Enjoy your hot dogs. Enjoy your family.

I'll be back before you can miss me.

Summer In Texas And The Laziness Is Palpable

You know what's not fun when the weather turns warm and the patio umbrellas are dusted off? HAVING TO WORK. No, that's definitely not fun. Granted the paycheck to make patio drinks at least financially possible isn't so bad, but couldn't I have both? The money and the steady flow of free time? Could one of you very smart and talented women figure that out for me? I'll be over here, lounging on the couch, ignoring the dishes and the dust bunnies and the many laundry piles. Obviously I'll be fairly preoccupied while you're thinking things through for me.

But, in all seriousness, it's officially summer in Texas what with the scattered thunderstorms and the sweltering, miserable heat and the sweating when you check the mail and the sweating when you walk to your car and the sweating when you STAND STILL. Oh and there's also the insane---and often random---tornadic weather to break up the suffocating heat. I went to lunch yesterday with a co-worker and while we stood in line to order our tasty Baker Brothers' sandwiches the sky darkened and the lights began flickering and a few customers started FREAKING THE EFF OUT. I kept mumbling, "Power, please don't go out before I've ordered my Sonoma Chicken sandwich." We ate our lunch with trees bent at right angles just outside the window and rain pounding down. (Oh, and a metal newspaper stand blowing through the parking lot.) When we finally left, nearly an hour later, the skies had cleared and it was barely drizzling. Oh, Texas. You certainly keep us on our toes, don't you?

Moving on to BlogHer clothes because where else would we move on to, really? I stopped at GAP before dinner tonight and tried on this dress and immediately fell in love with it. What do you think?

In this color, of course.

So, awkwardly moving on from that pretty dress, do you know what I watched last night? Tori & Dean: Home Sweet Hollywood. Also---and this is going to shock you even more than me sitting through an hour of a show centered around Donna Martin---I kind of enjoyed it. I think that has something to do with the lack of other television options this summer or how far away the remote was at the time but I may have even laughed at a point or two. She's a silly wreck, obviously, but kind of endearing too.

Finally---and I really can't imagine not sharing this with you all---Mike has wrapped a rope around our back doorknob and has constructed this sort of haphazard pulley-type-thing to try and teach Molly how to open the back door on her own to let herself out back. And, people, SHE HAS ALMOST FIGURED IT OUT. I'm not gonna lie, I'm rather ridiculously proud of her right now. I'll try and take a video when she masters the trick---right after I remind Mike to add "teach her how to fetch us beer" to his list of to-dos.

Things And Stuff

As soon as I post something on a subject matter a tad deeper than, say, my BlogHer wardrobe---which so far consists of this dress paired with these earrings, what do you think?---I always get the shakes because it's kind of overwhelming being so metaphorically exposed on the Internet. And then you lovely, wise readers leave me some of the sweetest words I've heard in, oh, ever, and I'm instantly reminded of why I do this---this crazy blogging thing---because I'm never that alone here. And it's kind of wonderful, you know? So, thank you.

Now, let's move on to something else, something equally important: The Top Chef finale which I was COUNTING DOWN TO today. (I stayed home from work and even took a nap just to get me that much closer to 9pm and also because, fine, I was really tired.) So, Stephanie won, and I'm fairly happy about that. I was a bit on the edge of my seat there for a while because the judges were raving about Lisa's dishes and NOOOOOOOO! She couldn't win! I would have been forced to throw things and stomp around and I was just so damn comfortable curled up on the couch. I will say I felt badly for Richard and his bacon ice cream, and then he had to go and cry in his exit interview, so then I had to go and cry, but I am happy for Stephanie and, hey! She's not Lisa! That counts for a lot!

But something that occurred to me while watching the finale: every episode of Top Chef a "guest judge" is introduced---so-and-so from this fancy, random restaurant in San Francisco or New York or, hell, even St. Louis---and every contestant raves and gushes about their awesomeness---"I am so honored and humbled to be cooking for so-and-so from St. Louis! This is the pinnacle of my career!"---and I have to believe there is at least one contestant who walks out to meet a guest judge and is like, "Who the fuck is that?" and then has to totally feign knowing him/her because everyone else apparently knows him/her, and you just can't be that chef who doesn't know. But it's BOUND to happen. You can't possibly know every well-known and respected person in your field. Perhaps you're thinking, Um, yes, you totally can, and to you I say, you must not be watching enough trashy teen dramas or reading enough vampire fiction if you have that much room in your memory. And good for you, truly, but SNOOZE FEST.

Thankfully Weeds comes back this Sunday---thanks Heather B! I was certain the premiere was another few weeks away and I would have missed it and THROWN A TOTAL FIT---to fill the Top Chef gap in my heart. But really my TV-watching has been scaled way down lately. Just to give you an idea, I cleaned out all of my shows on the DVR this afternoon (since I wasn't at work) and we have 21% space left for recording. Do you know what that means? Mike's shows are taking up a whopping SEVENTY-NINE PERCENT and does anyone else think I deserve shoes for this fact, for being married to a man who is so clearly a DVR whore? ME! I THINK I DESERVE SHOES! Although these shoes---which are currently an additional 20% off---aren't available until July 24 (in my size) and what's the point of buying cute shoes AFTER BlogHer? I sort of believe half the reason I'm going is to have an excuse to wear cute shoes every damn day. Which, wow, that's one expensive excuse.

Now, I'm going to wrap this up by asking a question of you, a question that came about when I was e-mailing my sister yesterday about romantic comedies she should rent when her husband is away on a boy's weekend. I told her to rent Catch & Release---which she totally judged and ridiculed me for---but it got us talking about fluffy movies we just love and can't get enough of and are TOTALLY NOT ASHAMED about. For instance, I love Drive Me Crazy---the teen drama that Vince from Entourage was in years and years ago---and I also loved The Notebook which surprised me as much as anyone else since the book, well, TOTALLY BLEW. And I'm curious, what fluffy movies do you love? We don't judge here. (At least not to your face.)

Two Girls, One Guy, 9,000 Lamps

So, IKEA. That's some place. I could move in there, couldn't you? When we first walked in (after some very aggressive parking-lot maneuvering) there were women tap-dancing to the right of the front door, welcoming us in style, and I sort of paused, looked at Crystal (who served as our seasoned tour guide) and said, "That overwhelms me a little bit." But after only a few minor freak-outs -- "Baby! You have to stay close! You can't wander off like that! Wait, should we have a meeting place if we get separated?" -- Mike and I felt like regulars, making notes of what things we liked, easily navigating the lighting section. It also wasn't long before we were elbowing our way through the display rooms like pros, oohing and ahhing over the spice racks! And the funky place settings! And the slow, self-closing cabinets! We didn't buy much -- giving us a nice reason to go back -- but we did wrap up our trip with a cinnamon bun from the bistro. (I'm not sure if you'll agree, but food just tastes better when it comes from a bistro.) Can I mention, for just a moment, that those gooey, sticky, DELIGHTFUL cinnamon buns were only $1 a piece. THAT'S ALL. One. Measly. Dollar. Why I didn't buy eight six-packs is beyond me. Oh! Yes! Because they're 400 calories. Each. I'd also like to mention that Mike was such a sport. He didn't say a word about anything I picked up and shoved into our hefty yellow IKEA bag -- that he somehow got stuck carrying -- because he is just that supportive of me putting together my "writing room" (fancy name for nap room slash office slash where I keep my shoes), and he's also just a really good man. I've been known to give him a hard time because he's sort of a crappy listener and he farts a lot and also our DVR is spilling over with horribly boring Discovery channel shows, but I'm really, ridiculously lucky to have him. And just in case the Internet is fuzzy about it, I hit the jackpot with him. I really did.

So, moving along, I also saw Sex and the City this weekend. I was so excited I shook Natalie right before it started. She appreciated that, trust me. Now, I've read some of the ho-hum reviews out there, and I could see the validity in a whole mess of points they've all made but I still kind of loved it. I laughed. I cried. And, look, if I do both in the same movie, I can't walk out saying it was bad. There was this one emotionally charged scene where one of the four women screamed at someone else in defense of one of the other four women (the vagueness is painful, I know) and it just sort of beautifully occurred to me that a team of writers created some of the best friendships we'll ever see on television or the big screen. And it made me awfully sad to see them go when the credits rolled.

And that's really all I have to tell you from this weekend. Sure, I could mention all the laziness and the naps and the dirty house that stayed dirty because of all the laziness and the naps, but that wouldn't interest you, would it? So I'll skip all that and go right to the winner from this post. I didn't document the selecting because I didn't have a camera with me (NEED THE NEW IPHONE, BABY) and also let's revisit all the laziness one more time. WAS. LAZY. But I promise it was legit and fair. I'll pinky-promise even.

So, the winner of ten whole Amazon dollars -- you can buy at least one used book with that amount -- is Ali from Cheaper Than Therapy*. I'll send the gift card to you by Friday, Ali. If you haven't gotten it by then (via e-mail) please let me know.

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*Her children! How freaking cute are they?!

A Few Things, In No Particular Or Coherent Order

I am on book two of Stephenie Meyer's Twilight series. Not only did I purchase this book in Barnes and Noble yesterday, I purchased this young-adult FANTASY book, which is kind of unprecedented for me. (I read only one Harry Potter book and that was because it was assigned to me in an Adolescent Lit course.) I have to admit, I was downright embarrassed when I had to shuffle over to the customer service desk and ask where these particular books were stashed—"I already looked in Science Fiction, Romance and just regular Fiction, but I can't find it and can you please respond in a whisper so no-one hears this conversation?"—and then the very loud-voiced, couldn't-manage-a-simple-whisper customer service workers answered with, "Oh! Twilight! It's right there! But, I think Eclipse, the third book, isn't available in paperback, but New Moon may not be either. Which book are you actually looking for? I can take you right to it, if you'd like." I resisted the urge to shush them frantically and managed an, "I got it covered, thanks!" but not before dying. On the spot. I was an English major! I spent an entire month of school dissecting and falling in love with Shakespeare's Much Ado About Nothing. I wrote a twelve-page paper on the symbolism of the English countryside in Remains of the Day. Just this year I read Pride and Prejudice and cried when it was over because has anyone ever loved another person as much as Mr. Darcy loved Elizabeth Bennet? But I picked up Twilight (the first book) on a whim, after seeing the trailer and—OH MY!—I'm hooked. Edward and Bella? I CANNOT GET ENOUGH OF YOU TWO. A vampire loving a human loving a vampire. All the self-sacrifice and resisting the urge to suck your girlfriend's blood all the time (totally brings me back to early Buffy). I'm actually heading to Los Angeles tomorrow to attend a pretty large trade show for the book industry where there will be a ridiculous amount of free books for me to snatch up. I will have more reading material come Sunday than I'll know what to do with and all I can think about is does Bella ever become a vampire? Does Edward ever break down and nibble on her a little bit? So, anyway, what are you reading these days? And does it have you as obsessed as these books have me? AND ARE YOU TOTALLY JUDGING ME FOR MY CHOICE OF READING MATERIAL? (I plan to read Water for Elephants after this series if that redeems me at all.)

::

So, today I received some interesting spam. The subject line read "what a stupid face you have Jennifer." And although I was kind of taken aback—has Devland Ching even seen my face? If so, have I seen his/hers? That's a name I'm sure I'd remember—I was even more intrigued at this person's marketing strategy. Insulting your audience, that's a new one, and I work in marketing. Perhaps there's someone out there who is just insecure enough to click on the e-mail to see how to make their face look smart or quick or witty instead of stupid and, really, I will say it's a vast improvement over sending me an e-mail with nine typos (intentional or not) in the subject line alone. I'd rather you insult me with adjectives than incorrect grammar.

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Like I said above, I'm leaving town tomorrow—leaving the DVR in my husband's care and taking far too many shoes since that pesky baggage-check fee will be covered by my company—and I've left this site in some pretty capable guest-posting hands while I'm away. So capable in fact, I'm almost giddy about having their words on my site. There may be printing and framing involved when I return. Anyway, enjoy them while I'm gone.

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Now, I want to share with you a dress I have in two colors and I love so much I wore it both Saturday and Sunday (around mostly different crowds; NATALIE YOU SAW NOTHING). It really is the most comfortable, well-fitting, inexpensive summer dress, and IT'S ON SALE. I have black and berry chutney and the only reason I don't have wheelbarrow (which, come on, is just gray) is because it wasn't in my size. Dress it up! Dress it down! Pair it with flip-flops or snazzy espadrilles! It really is my new favorite find and when I woke up on Monday, I was actually sad I couldn't wear one again. Mike said that would be pushing it and also kind of gross.

$20 online! (Although, oddly enough, I got the black on sale for $14.50 over the weekend. Apparently Old Navy is slashing prices and then rethinking things, hoping no-one will notice. Interesting.)

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Finally, Top Chef is on tonight! Come on Spike! (I, personally, think Richard is taking this season, but you really never know which is one of the reasons I absolutely love this show. The other is all the food.)

Your Day

There are many, many mothers in my life. My sister—a beautiful, dark-haired mother to an almost-two-year-old boy who has his mother's gorgeous coloring and her fierce independence—my sister-in-law—the most calm and grounded and downright together mother I know—and Mike's cousins who are just so beautiful and loving. I have many friends—some who are just about to be mothers and some who have just become one. There is also my stepmother who is the quirkiest, most original, most authentic woman I know who taught me how to drive a car and how to climb out on a limb and, also, how to be beautiful in my own skin. Then, of course, there's Mike's mom who once, years and years ago, when I first met Mike, made me realize how much fun raising a son would be one day.

But of all the moms in my life, this day makes me think of one more than any other:

My own.

My mother, right there, was in her second trimester with me. That's my sister she's holding (circa 1981).

My mother has fought her entire life for respect, for her own space, for happiness, and it hasn't always been an easy fight. She raised two daughters—both demanding and exhausting in our own ways—and she did so for many years without any help, when her own family had turned its back on us. Because of all she's gone through, my mother takes nothing—not a minute, not a second—for granted. And there is just nothing she wouldn't do for both my sister and me.

I have a great, albeit small, circle of family members who love me, who are loyal to me, who came to my wedding and poured their love out for Mike and me. I have incredible friends—a few I know will be in my life for the long haul, a few I truly believe will see my children and grandchildren grow. Mike's family is the most incredible group of people I have ever known, and there is not a day I don't feel downright undeserving to be married into this loving, loud group.

But my own mother—my sweet, kind, giving, warm mother—is the one person who loves me completely, unconditionally, with no pretenses, no expectations.

If you have met her—or if you will ever be lucky enough to meet her—you will understand, it will become so clear, why I want my own child.

I want the chance to love another person the way I have always been loved.

Happy Mother's Day, Mom.

And thanks for buying me a pair of shoes today, on your day. And thanks for making me laugh by saying, after you bought them, "Now, sweetie, I want to see these on your blog, OK?"

So, here they are, a picture stolen from someone's eBay site since that was the only place on the Internet the shoes could be found:

Good Things And Good Things To Come

So, first off, I must tell you about this new ice cream flavor we inadvertently stumbled upon a few months ago, when we inadvertently stumbled upon this show on the Food Network with the basic premise being that thousands of normal people were afforded the opportunity to pitch a new and tasty ice cream flavor to Haagen-Dazs (which, wow, is not how I thought it was spelled), and then that great, big field was narrowed down to three finalists and after a trial distribution in Haagen-Dazs stores all over the country and, also, a rather cut-throat judging from ice cream experts, one lucky winner was crowned, and she received gifts and also the top honor of having her chosen flavor sold in grocery stores. Now, the winning flavor was Sticky Toffee Pudding, which is something I have to honestly admit I had never heard of until watching this show—but after watching the show, I learned it's a British dessert that looks rather delicious. Unfortunately, I haven't been able to find this flavor in any of the grocery stores I've been in since watching the show in February. But, get this, Mike really wanted Toasted Coconut Sesame Brittle—one of the runner-up flavors—to win, and, well, it didn't, but guess what flavor we have seen in a handful of grocery stores? Go on, guess! That's right! Toasted Coconut Sesame Brittle! This afternoon Mike brought some home, and although it didn't sound good—to me—when we originally watched the challenge, it is easily one of the most addicting and delightful (light! creamy! refreshing!) flavors of ice cream I've ever had. It's really giving Rocky Road a run for its money. So, all that build up was to say, get yourself to a local store and pick some up, as "limited edition" is splashed all over the container and that's a bit stressful, isn't it? How limited? Are we talking a few months? Through this coming Saturday? I really would like to know, as would my thighs. Also, let's all send out warm, fuzzy thoughts to the winner who was apparently straight LIED TO when she was told her flavor—and her flavor alone—would be available at all grocery stores.

Next up, I tried to buy a laptop today. We actively tried to give our money  to various stores (a large amount of money, mind you; this wasn't one of those pretend laptops for children to peck on) and the stores did not make it easy on us. Unfortunately, I am typing this post on Mike's boring old desktop, and the earliest I'll have my shiny, pretty laptop is tomorrow evening. Mike got a new computer mouse and a USB port thing, and I was subjected to a trip to Fry's with nothing more to show for it than a Cooking Light magazine. (Aside: Fry's has one of the best magazine selections I've ever seen—which I find kind of strange, don't you?) We have a date with Best Buy tomorrow night, so will you go ahead and cross your fingers for me, please? I really don't want to order the thing online for no other reason than I WANT IT NOW, GIMME!

I did get a really pretty dress at Target today, which softened the laptop blow (as did the Haagen-Dazs) but after scouring target.com, I can't find an image to share with you. Trust me when I say it's adorable in a mustard-yellow color, which I'm rather into these days. I don't particularly know why, but it's so much better than other shades of yellow, and it's apparently "in" as I've seen it at J. Crew AND Anthropologie (and, obviously, Target) and those stores rarely lie to me. When I wear the thing—hopefully to a baby shower I am hosting in a few weeks—I'll snap a picture because target.com failed me today, and it's not often I can say that.

Speaking of dresses, I am lusting after this one from GAP, and I even clicked it over into my shopping bag this morning and gap.com had my information saved and everything (which I've since cleared, identity thieves), making it so easy to click "purchase," but I didn't. (Note: In "Military Blue"—I tried to love the "Vineyard" color as it's a measly $19.99, but I just don't.) I resisted because the laptop purchase is a big one, and it doesn't leave us much money left over for gap.com shipping costs. I do plan to stop into a local GAP on a lunch hour this week, and if it's there and it's marked down as much as online, well, it's mine. I'll wear it while typing on my new laptop while spooning bites of Toasted Coconut Sesame Brittle into my mouth (don't tell Mike though—he says no food around the new laptop) and life will be just perfect.

And I'll do all of that while watching the SIXTH season of One Tree Hill, which was confirmed recently. Me and a slew of 13-year-olds really couldn't be happier.

Off The Figuratively Heavy Topics And Onto The Literal Ones

Two posts in one day! Aren't you the lucky reader?

That last post was rather intense, wasn't it? I wasn't entirely prepared for such soul-searching when I began my age time-lines, but now that I'm in the thick of them, I can't exactly abandon ship. But I can put a nice chunk of time in between heavy posts so this doesn't become the blog where we all must hide our razorblades. (She Likes Purple: Where You Shouldn't Have To Hide Your Razorblades.)

Now, let's move along to something fluffier, like the size of my thighs. I'm recommitting to this same, pesky diet I've been involved with but mostly ignoring for months and months now. Sometimes we go weeks enjoying one another but I inevitably toss it aside for a Chipotle burrito bowl piled high with creamy guacamole.

What makes this time different, you ask (great question, by the way). Well, this time I have some serious inspiration, and it comes in the form of this lovely drape-y dress from Francesca's.

It doesn't look so colorless in person—in person it looks heavenly. But it's also the kind of (heavenly) dress I imagine would be rather unforgiving to bulges, so I'll need to drop a few (dozen) pounds in order to flaunt it properly.

(Side question: what color shoes/accessories would you pair with this? Oh, and including links never hurt anyone.)

Now, how was your weekend? I'm dying to know what you did, what you saw, what you bought. I had the house to myself and I believe I mentioned grand plans of massages, manicures, chick-flick marathons but my weekend actually consisted of a lot of unpacking broken up by Soap Net watching (and, fine, champagne drinking and cupcake inhaling). I did have dinner at Mike's cousin's house on Saturday night and spent most of Sunday with my mom, shopping and taking in Definitely, Maybe for the second time. Mike gets back today, and although the house isn't as "put together" as I would have liked, it's getting there. And getting there is better than "still looks like total and utter crap," right?

I also wasn't snatched out of my house this weekend which was actually a concern since, as I tell Mike just constantly, I'm quite snatchable. There were only a few suspicious noises I forced Molly to investigate and they turned out to be nothing more than the air-conditioner kicking on (twice) and the air-conditioner kicking off (three times). I swear it sounds just like someone typing when it kicks off, and I sat straight up in bed all three times and thought, completely seriously, Is someone on our computer? Now, wouldn't they have been the most boring burglar in history.

Here's to a happy St. Patrick's Day, whatever it is you have up your sleeve. I had grand plans to make this cake tonight, but something tells me it's not the best way to kick off a diet.

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And on a final and unrelated note, are you going to BlogHer? Do you need a roommate? Kristabella, a funny and snarky Chicago-based blogger, is looking for someone to room with in July. If you are in the same predicament, please contact me or Kristin, directly. You and your liver won't be disappointed. 

Where We're Going To Hang Our Hats For A While

Well, Internet, we're still alive. (But, no kidding, just barely.) We're all moved in, and it's now time to unpack, decorate and spend every last penny of our bank account at Target.

I worked far too hard this weekend for my tastes and I am rather determined to get ACTUAL MOVERS next time we do this.

Because I worked so hard, I treated myself to (ON SALE!) shoes this morning. (Thank you, Heather, for the heads up!) I know what you're going to say—I still have a week or so left of my shopping fast, and you're right (you always are!), but I deserved them. I didn't feel guilty about purchasing them which is exactly the kind of perspective I wanted to gain from this whole crazy experiment. I'm still putting the kibosh on unnecessary shopping until March 11 because we are paying double rent for the month of March and I also have to find a writer's desk for my office (my own office!), but I'll wear my pixie green flats with as much joy and pride as you'd imagine until then.

And because you deserve something too, here are some pictures from the move and of the new house.

I hope your weekend consisted of much less lifting and sweating than mine did. You deserve that, too.

I Hope The Universe Doesn't Have A Google Reader Account

We bought a fridge this weekend. For the house we haven't officially been given. Most of you don't know me but this is FREAKING ME RIGHT THE HELL OUT because I am deeply superstitious. Would you have guessed that? Even writing about the house is making my palms clammy because THAT COULD JINX US.

When I was in middle school, I used to write down what I did on a wall calendar every single day. I would never write out future plans, though, because I truly thought setting them in stone would cause them to fall through.

I had a dream my freshman year of college I married a man named Michael—€”although I think that dream was because I met a guitar player named Michael earlier the same night who played me Dave Matthews "#41" and who also  offered me his beer (and, yes, that's all it took to make me dream of you back then)—and I didn't tell a SOUL until after Mike and I said "I do." Not even once we were engaged. NOT EVEN ONCE WE WERE IN TAHOE, three days before the wedding.

Before Mike and I started trying for a baby, I thought we'd keep it to ourselves to avoid jinxing the situation. But I couldn't help myself, and I've told everyone I've ever known (just about). The cashier at Tom Thumb? Yep, she knows. Our waitress at Joe's the other night? We talked baby names. And, sure, I rationally know that speaking about it is NOT the reason it hasn't happened for us yet, but still, I sometimes wonder. . . .

So, I'm ridiculously superstitious.

And telling you we found a house we love and then subsequently submitted an application for and then subsequently BOUGHT A FRIDGE TO PUT INSIDE IT is very unlike me. (Buying the fridge in the first place was very unlike me but it was 76% off the list price and, really, if the house doesn't work out, there's always Craigslist or strategically placing it in our living room.) I'd like to say I'm sharing all of this because I'm staying positive and believing we deserve this house but really I just don't have anything else to blog about. (OK, so it came down to this topic or the writer's strike being over but that post consisted of far too many exclamation points.)

It's also a very stressful week—€”at home, at work—€”and my mind needs to be on other things besides this house, but I can't help refreshing my e-mail inbox every 15 seconds, hoping for good news.

So even though it's making my stomach WRAP AROUND ITSELF, will you think good thoughts and then send them to us? Will you cross your fingers and toes and call upon some favors from the Universe (if you have any you're not using) and if we get it, I promise to invite you to our housewarming party.

Because, sure, you didn't know I am superstitious enough that I didn't program Mike's number into my cell phone until he told me he loved me FIVE MONTHS after we began dating, but you probably aren't falling over from shock in knowing that throwing a housewarming party is roughly half the reason I want a new house.

On To Bigger And Cuter Things

OK, enough about politics, I can shop again, which is oodles more exciting, right?

This morning marked thirty days since I gave up shopping (for thirty days). Thirty days of leaving Target with VERY LITTLE. Thirty days of being taunted by J. Crew sales and Crate & Barrel catalogs. Thirty days of looking at my bank account and not immediately dying on the spot.

That last reason? Kind of a silver lining, don't you think?

Over the last month I've been making a very conservative list of things I'd like to buy today and first was this top:

Sweet night, if I don't have good shopping karma as that lovely top was ON SALE today. I snatched it up for $29.95 (before tax and shipping) instead of $48.

There are a few other things I'll be purchasing today/tomorrow, a dress from Target that is also on sale and a jewelry travel case (something I actually need since we're going to Florida AGAIN next weekend), but—and here's where I take the crazy up a notch—I'm going to start another thirty-day shopping fast this Monday.

What I'm hoping to get from all this is a little lesson in budgeting (something none of my college classes offered me). I'd like to spend a certain amount each month on things for me and this "fasting" experiment has helped me realize I can do it, even if I have to sit on my hands every damn day once in a while to resist the urge to click purchase on these:

Another bonus to being "responsible" is being able to move out of our ridiculously small duplex (MUSTANG HOOD. RESTING AGAINST MY BACK WALL.) into a newer, larger rental house. Yes, you read that correctly. We're not buying our own home for another year or so. We could delve into the many reasons why, but let's just leave it at: Our early twenties. Ouch.

We're still excited about this move and Molly, well, she's FLIPPING ECSTATIC because this move includes a yard of her very own. (Heaven knows her mama wants nothing to do with that lawn-mowing nightmare.) One house we're looking at even has a dog run. What she doesn't realize is we may have to start whoring her out so she can earn her keep, but we'll let her bask in the glow of a yard before we gently remind her that although we adore her and her floppy ears, there's really no such thing as a free lunch.

Another lesson 20th Century British Lit didn't include in its course description.

Things I Want You To Know About

This Photography Site
A few months ago, Mike and I went to a wine festival in the town we live. As with most street fairs, there were vendors peddling their goods to the drunks stumbling about. Mike is pretty immune to this type of sales approach—or any sales approach that doesn't involve the words "free" or "hooker"—but I, per usual, scurried up to any booth offering something shiny. Funny enough, when we walked by the booth where this photographer was, we both were drawn to the same photograph. We didn't buy it then, as Mike is about as impulsive as ... well, whatever isn't known for its impulsiveness. Absolutely nothing is coming to mind less impulsive than my husband. So, let's just say my husband's about as impulsive as NOT ME. How's that for an analogy. Anyway, I recently bought this picture for Mike, as a "just because" gift.

My J. Crew (Gift Card) Purchase
I scratched everything off the list pictured on this post because I am rather impulsive and also a hair crazy. And also because my best friend is getting married over Memorial Weekend and she is letting me wear whatever black dress I want for the occasion. The below dress is on sale for $39.99 and it's lovely, isn't it? So, there you have it, what I'm buying with my J. Crew gift card. (Obviously, I'm getting it in black, but take a gander at the spiced wine color. It would look smashing on someone. Perhaps you?)

What I Bought on Amazon
I'm not shopping for 30 days (for clothes, shoes and accessories) and really this whole experiment is supposed to show me how much I spend (and therefore how much I can save) unnecessarily each month. I do quite a bit of mindless shopping—picking up a pair of ballet flats or a pair of earrings at Target when I'm supposed to be buying toilet paper. Grabbing a random pashmina when I'm scoping out birthday gifts for a girlfriend. I can already say that this month has given me some much-needed perspective. I'm able to be more thoughtful with my gift giving and I'm able to pick up a cookbook, guilt-free, in order to improve our dinners and therefore our home. (And in case you're sort of scratching your head, I didn't include books or home improvements as part of my shopping fast, as I rarely improve our home and I've been reading Pride and Prejudice for the last six months. My book buying isn't driving us into debt. MY SHOE BUYING IS.)

Fresca is Not Only Your Grandmother's Soda
I've cut my caffeine intake considerably since Mike and I began trying for a baby. Giving up those 18 Diet Dr. Peppers a day was one of the most difficult things I've done, and that's saying quite a lot as I went to school for four(ish) years where the student body was chosen as the student body most likely to vote for George W. Bush. During that first caffeine-free month, I had a never-ending headache that made me as irritable as an ostrich. (They're quite irritable, trust me—I was once chased by one in Arizona.) Now that the first month is behind me, the cravings are basically gone and I've taken up drinking Fresca instead. I bring a couple cans to work with me—one for the morning, one for lunch. And I've been MOCKED for this. Fresca is, rumor has it, a grandma's drink and, well, I think I speak for senior citizens everywhere when I say, that shit is good.

What I Printed Out Last Night
The Couch to 5K program that is raved about all across Cyber Space. Although, if we're talking about me, specifically, it's more like Comfy Bed with Easy Access to the TiVo to 5K.

Where We May Stay During Our Arkansas Trip
My Christmas gift was a weekend getaway to Arkansas. You can judge all you want, but our neighboring states don't offer much in the way of romantic getaways. I don't know if you'll agree, but, to me, Oklahoma doesn't ooze romance. Although I've never been to Arkansas I hear it's actually rather beautiful. This hotel, in Hot Springs, AR, may be just what we need for a fun weekend together (and they offer some great packages, although the only package I'm interested in is the one that includes a free bottle of champagne). This is quite a step up from the motel Mike took me to in Lake Charles, LA a few years back. Let's just say, I may have fallen asleep on top of my jacket that night to the sounds of gunshots. And I thought it best (and most sanitary) not to take a shower the next morning.

The Movie I Think You Should See After You See Juno
The Internet is abuzz with praise for Juno. It seems everyone is raving about this little gem of a movie. I've now seen it twice and am still charmed by it. But, I stand by my pick of Gone Baby Gone as the best movie of 2007. I don't think the award-show circuit agrees with me, but the awards shows are being canceled one by one. She Likes Purple? NOT CANCELED.

What Moved Me to My Knees This Week
Yes, Mike and I are trying to have a kid and, no, it hasn't happened for us yet. And as it goes with anything in life, you can start to wallow, to resent, to whine incessantly when things aren't going your way. Also, I've worked really long hours this week with a stressful and looming deadline right around the corner. I sat in traffic for an hour and a half last night and flipped off approximately three idiots who honestly had it coming because THAT IS A RED LIGHT, STOP HONKING AT ME! Our laundry is leering at me, I swear it, and I do sometimes wonder why life is just so relentless with how it never lets up. And then I read this, and the fact that she can even string words together, can even be upright in the face of all that pain, makes me realize that I should be on my knees, every moment, thanking someone, ANYONE, for breathing in and out today. I'm sometimes stunned by the perspective the blogosphere offers me. I could try to pound out words until I recognized something resembling my feelings on the subject, but it would be futile. Nothing comes close. There are far stronger, far more beautifully articulate women in this world than me. And I am so humbled to be allowed to read their words.

How I'm Going to Attempt to Pay it Forward
A few months ago Bethany Actually posted about Paying it Forward—The Blog Edition and I just loved the idea. I assumed, back then, that hosting something similar would be more cruel to my readers than kind because offering homemade gifts to the first three commenters? Really? I imagine you wouldn't be interested in pictures of Molly. Or a to-do list on fancy paper, perhaps? Yesterday I read a similar post at The Ugly Green Chair. And, became rather obvious to me that I could absolutely do this if I baked something! So, I'm going to bake and send a batch of something to the first three commenters (who are interested in hosting a similar thing for their readers). I promise it'll taste delightful and I also promise not to stick my fingers into your particular batch of batter. Now, remember, you have to pay it forward, although you can make whatever you'd like—cards, jewelry, prints, a Veronica Mars bobble head. The possibilities are endless.

What I Still Haven't Quite Come to Terms With
A new episode of The Office is nowhere in sight.

What To Spend My Gift Cards On?

I'm not shopping. For 30 days. And, yes, I'm crazy, why do you ask? I'm also a bit desperate for a bank account balance that isn't panic-inducing. Other than a boosted case of online browsing, distracting me from the dishes and the laundry, things are going surprisingly well. Just yesterday I actually said to my husband, "What are you spending our money on?" and, well, wasn't THAT an odd case of the tables turning.

(Just a small aside, though: I can't shop, yes, but I can ACCEPT GIFTS.)

I did give myself a nice little loophole in this small experiment: I can still use gift cards! And, being the brilliant person that I am, gift cards are about all I requested for Christmas and my recent birthday. I now have a handful from Sephora and J. Crew—all itching to work their balances down to $0.

But—and this is where you come in, my lovelies— what do I use all this plastic on?

I can't spend any of my own money (at these stores, at least) until February 7 (and what you're hearing right now is time INCHING along), so if I choose something that's over the card limit, I have to wait to purchase it. Now, I could tell you the limit but what fun would that be? That would influence your votes! And give the crazies motivation to hunt me and my stash of gift cards down!

So, first up, J. Crew: (Now, before I go on, I must say, my obsession with this store goes way back; back to when I could actually afford to be obsessed with this store. I don't know what goes on in those company board meetings, but apparently someone is raising their hand to suggest charging OUT THE ASS and someone important is NODDING IN AGREEMENT. I still stay loyal, as their sales are just spectacular, but my wardrobe, as a whole, is a big slice of Target with a sprinkling of J. Crew.)

Cambridge cable sweater (color: snow). Price: $34.99.

Grosgrain flip-flops (color: vine/berry). Price: $24.50.

If Mike ever gets around to reading this, he's going to groan and yell at the monitor, "YOU HAVE 18 PAIRS OF FLIP-FLOPS." He's absolutely right, that one.

Perfect-fit three-quarter-sleeve striped tee (color: navy). Price: $19.99.

New Dream shawl-collar sweater (color: honey glaze). Price: $59.99. 

Egyptian-cotton V-neck sweater (color: resort purple, and no I don't know what makes resort purple better than, say, regular-hotel-you-researched-yourself purple, but it's still a lovely shade, isn't it?). Price: $59.50.

Strapless embossed beach dress (color: yep, resort purple again). Price: $98.

My bridesmaids wore this dress, except in espresso. I would have been so tempted to put them in resort purple if it had been available last fall, when I chose the dress.

Vachetta sandals (color: botanical green). Price: $88.

Ignore this photo; apparently it's already sold out.

Now, onto Sephora:

Purity by Philosophy, cleanser. Price: $10 (smallest size, so I can assure I like it).

Smashbox eyeshadow trio, Shutterspeed. Price: $28. 

Stella perfume. Price: varies.

Nars lip lacquer, in Medea (color smudge above). Price: $23.

Philosophy body cleanser, Cinnamon buns. Price: varies.

Too Faced, lip injection. Price: $23.50

Vincent Longo Tinted Moisturizer. Price: $38.

::

Feel free to suggest more than one item, but don't suggest all, as that's kind of missing the point. If I could afford everything, I'd probably spend a lot less time blogging about shopping and a lot more time, well, shopping.

Now—especially with Sephora which is a store that just STUNS me with its options—I'd also love to hear a thing or two about items not pictured. A great mascara I must know about. A perfume that is TO DIE FOR. Eye shadow that changed your life. And so on.

So, what do you think?

::

Delurking day (or as my husband calls it, Don't Be a Lurker Day!) winner will be picked this weekend and announced Monday, so, tell all your friends to comment. Or, don't, so your odds are better. Whichever.

Will You Settle For Me Begging For Stuff?

I'm particularly glad I didn't sign up for NaBloPoMo this year because—oddly enough—writer's block has recently fallen over me and—oddly enough—I know exactly why. There is one blog post I keep coming back to and one blog post I'm not yet ready for. Even though it's taking up a considerable amount of my brain space, and although this is cruel and vague, the words just aren't right yet. It's meant for another day.

Thankfully I'm keeping myself busy with all of your posts, and I'm reading every single one of them, even if that leaves me little time to sleep and also causes me to post my shoe picture of the day around 10pm each night. You are more disciplined and determined than I am, and you deserve acknowledgment of that.

But I'm desperate to post something (anything!) because I don't want you to move on to better blogging pastures and forget all about me. I'd cry, I swear it. And Molly would never talk to you again. She's a grudge holder, I won't lie.

So, let's talk about wish lists. I think that's fair, since November has reminded me how deep my love for shoes really runs. I'm going to offer up a few things I'm coveting and you're going to do the same, if you feel so inclined. And if any one of us hits a Vegas jackpot or guesses all the matching lotto numbers, we can refer back to said wish lists and, you know, share the love.

1) A few things from amazon.com.

2) These lovely, lovely shoes. (They're similar to a pair at J.Crew that are almost $200 more. J.Crew, take note, YOU ARE TOO EXPENSIVE AND IT'S STARTING TO IRRITATE ME.)

3) OK, J.Crew, I'm sorry. I got a bit emotional there, but it's only because I remember the days when you were much more reasonable, just a hair above GAP, even. But, your sales are redeeming, so, forgive me. Here, I'll add you to this list: These and this, too.

4) A few camera lenses, recommended by my favorite photographer. Also, one of my favorite bloggers and mothers. I've never met her, but visit her site and soak up her wisdom. She's living right, and it's inspirational.

5) Plane tickets to Toronto to visit my nephew.

6) Gemstone earrings from Red Envelope. Garnets, please. (I'll take these, while you're there. And I'll use all of December's flex points on them because I AM DROOLING AT AN ONLINE IMAGE OF THEM. That's something.)

7) Kitchen mixer.

8) A new laptop. Haven't picked it out yet, so cash will be fine.

9) The following Sephora goodies: Stella perfume, NARS gloss (Medea), Stila eyeshadow (Java, Viola), Purity cleanser.

10) Wine glasses from uncommongoods.com.

11) Bling holder from ournameismud.com

12) Oh, and an iPhone. Plus all the cancellation and start-up fees necessary for getting out of our T-Mobile contract and signing with AT&T.

Admittedly, the list is ever growing, so perhaps next week when I'm still not ready to discuss that which I want to discuss, I'll continue the wishing. Or perhaps I'll just say fuck it and post nothing but Molly sporting every sweater she owns. Maybe even force her into some shoes or a funny hat. Better yet, maybe I'll finally get around to posting about our Build-A-Bear, Louie.

The dignity around here has reached new lows. It's easier to give in and roll with it. Trust me.

And, what are you wishing for? Other than peace and good weather and laughter and all that nonsense.