Here's the Thing

Grousing a Little

2011-03-21T17:38:00.000-07:00

Parents do a lot of thankless things for their kids. It starts with poop-filled diapers and carries right on through until the time they leave home. (Possibly beyond, but I can't think that far ahead. Note to self: ask Dame Judi). Among those thankless tasks performing taxi service ranks high...especially when in the midst of preparing for a particular event like, say, oh...the spring musical.

I am soooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo over this and the show hasn't even gone up yet (opening night is Thursday). Tonight, for example, rehearsal goes until 8. That's right, 8 in the p.m. Which means for the second week straight The Spouse and I are eating without her, I have to leave the house during prime TV viewing time to fetch her and then feed her warmed up whatever-we're-having (tonight it's lamb chops with gremolata and white beans because that sounds very spring-y to me). Tuesday and Wednesday she rehearses until 6pm (only slightly better) and then there's the the whole picking her up AFTER the show. (Although, to be fair, I only have to do that 2 nights because other people are helping out).

I swear, if that child ever wins a Tony or an Oscar she had damn well better than thank her mother, "without whom I wouldn't be here...at all".

My Day So Far

2011-03-17T14:43:00.000-07:00

1, Spill coffee on self walking to car.
2. Spill more coffee on self getting into car.
3. Drink what is left of coffee; start driving The Child to school.
4. A couple miles in, warning light comes on (which only says "Stop vehicle safely").
5. Briefly consider ignoring light until realize that car is not accelerating over 20 mph.
6. Pull into fast food parking lot.
7. Call dealer. (Car dealer, not the other kind).
8. Call roadside assistance.
9. Call The Neighbor to see if she can come get The Child. Neighbor en route to Tacoma. No go.
10. Call one of the housekeepers to a) inform him a family is coming to check in and need to be headed off because I won't be in any time soon and could he please do me a personal favor and come get The Child and take her to the train station so she can go downtown and get a bus to school.
11. Call MAB to tell her what is going on since she has the day off.
12. Turn Child over to housekeeper as tow truck arrives.
13. Go to dealership (having a very pleasant and uplifting conversation with the driver).
14. Get loaner car.
15. Get stuck in traffic.
16. Decide to go home and change.
17. Realize house key is still on the ring with car key

And that was all before 9am.

I had macaroni and cheese out of a box and a Coke for lunch.

And I changed into an over-large Google VetNet t-shirt left over from our Veterans Day party. It does nothing for my figure or the overall look of today's ensemble but at least it isn't stained with coffee. A lot of coffee.

Just Sayin'

2011-03-10T06:05:00.000-08:00

5 a.m. is too early to get up.

I refuse.

Making an Ash of Myself

2011-03-09T06:58:00.000-08:00

It's late this year. Very late. Usually we are all well into the routine of Lent by now and here it is, only the first day. Appropriate though, because even though The Groundhog predicted an early spring, there has been precious little evidence of that...some pale blossoming, a slender crocus here or there. But Lent actually means "spring"....or rather the lengthening of days toward spring. So now that it is here perhaps the rest will follow.

There's a contagion sweeping through the House this week and I got some of it so I've been home since yesterday. Nothing dire but I'm a big believer in hitting the fluids and naps at the onset rather than waiting until I feel like complete crap and it's too late to do anything but ride it out.

I'll make it out to church for my ashes...maybe one of the little parishes nearby that don't really do much for me liturgically but are convenient. Or maybe I'll rally and go to the Cathedral. It doesn't matter. Getting the ashes, marking the start of the journey, hearing the words "turn away from sin and be faithful to the Gospel"...that's the point.

Oh, I do love Lent. I've been thinking a lot about what is unbalanced in my life these days...the causes (or perceived causes, anyway...the 6 weeks of Lent ALWAYS end up revealing more than I expect). I'm grateful for this time to simplify, to be more thoughtful/prayerful about the direction of my life/the condition of my heart. Some years, I admit, I kinda phone it in. I did that last year...partly, I suppose because it turned out the real journey of last year ended up being about Suzanne's cancer diagnosis. I'm hoping for a little less drama this year...just the opportunity to be open to the Spirit, to tidy up some of the dustier cupboards of my soul and thereby uncover a new freedom (or energy or some sort of positive force like that there) to - oh, I dunno -be more present in my life and to the people with whom I share it.

Happy Lent, to those whom that applies. Happy regular ol' Wednesday in March to those who it don't.

The Goodness of People

2011-02-22T19:37:00.000-08:00

I was walking around with a heavy heart today. So much craziness in the world right now. Pick your poison. You've got Khadify (or whatever the spelling du jour is of his damn name) slaughtering people, GOP controlled state houses rolling back collective bargaining all over the place, an impending government shut down, Rush Limbaugh calling Michelle Obama fat (oh, the irony), big earthquake in New Zealand...and that's all just off the top o' me head.

And then I had to go get The Child from rehearsal and it was snowing. By the time we were on the return trip the roads home were all getting very slide-y. And, as you may know, Seattle is just chock full of hills and we live atop one of them so no matter what I do I HAVE to drive on hills. In the snow. We were only 3 blocks from home, on the last hill, when the car said, "Yeah, no". And it wasn't the worst situation to be in. I mean we could walk home. But I was so stuck I wasn't even sure if I could get the car to the side of the street to leave it.

Then some dude came up and said, "Would you like me to push you?" I gratefully accepted his offer, praying to the Little Baby Jesus in His Golden Diaper that I didn't end up rolling back over my Good Samaritan. The car wouldn't budge.

So dude called over to his buddy for help. "What for?" said Dude 2. "A car is stuck," said Dude 1. "What car?" asked Dude 2. "Uh, the one in front of the house. Hello?" So Dude 2 came out. He assessed the situation and opined that if they could push me a few yards I could roll back into the driveway and then gun it up the hill.

"Do you have a lot of experience driving in snow?" I asked.

"Yeah," said Dude 2. "And I'm a mechanic".

"Ok," I said. "You're driving".

They pushed me the requisite yards, I put her in park, we got out and Dude 2 took over. He expertly negotiated the car into a firm position and got her up over the crest of the hill. Thanking him and Dude 1 profusely, The Child and I returned to the vehicle and they both called out, "You ladies have a good evening".

Just restored my damn faith in humanity, I tells ya. And I am so baking them some cookies.

And Speaking of Patriotism....

2011-02-18T22:52:00.000-08:00

Actually, this has nothing to do with patriotism. But I only just now realized that if the government shuts down on March 4 that means me, too. Like, I won't get paid. And yes, I've kinda been thinking about taking a few days of personal leave because, well, I can...but taking it because John Boehner is a prize jackass wasn't exactly the scenario I envisioned.

I'm kinda freaking out a little here.

I Got Your Patriotism Right Here

2011-02-17T21:58:00.000-08:00

The population I work with is, generally speaking, pretty conservative. Not all, mind, but most. Meanwhile, none of my co-workers are. Because of the environment we are in, we keep our mouths shut about politics, unless we're all alone in the office. And it's fine. I hear some stupid stuff from time to time but I can finesse it. Except for this:

A big (and very attractive) framed picture of the President hangs on the wall of our office. We're not obligated to have a picture of the President in our office but when Public Affairs offered an extra one, MAB and I snapped it up. And it makes us happy. But a couple of times it has happened that someone has been in the office and said something along the lines of -and I'm not making this up- "Can we turn that to the wall?"

Now mind you, as a federal employee I am to conduct myself as a non-partisan while on the job. But when I hear something like that it makes the big vein in my head go "thumpa-thumpa". Until I hit on the perfect response. I look at the person who just uttered the offensive comment, smile sweetly and say, "Sir, with all due respect, that is the President of the United States, the Commander in Chief and my boss. We will not be turning it to the wall".

And every single time you know what happens? The offending person shuts the H up.

OMG!

2011-01-26T14:43:00.000-08:00

A friend of mine who is possessed of 2 small children recently asked those of us who are farther down the parenting road if we agreed with the adage that "the days are long but the years are short". I gave him a resounding "you betcha*".

When you're not getting a full night of sleep, when you never eat a hot meal, when you are convinced that your loin fruit will in fact be the only kid at college still wearing diapers, when you are putting your butt in the hard seat of one more school concert you never think that your life will be your own again. You are quite convinced that your future holds nothing but sandy eyelids, cold mac and cheese and the chapped hands that come from washing after yet another diaper change.

But that's not the way it is.

The little beggers grow up and they keep growing up. And then, all a sudden, you wake up one morning and the damn baby can't be found. It finally happened. You finally DID leave it on the bus. And then some adult-sized person walks out of the nursery wearing a "Twilight" tshirt, grumbles something unintelligible in your general direction and pours itself a cup of coffee. No need to call the Port Authority. You didn't lose the baby. It just frakking grew up.

Today The Child is 17. (Yes, she's still The Child. It is my last bastion and you'll not wrest it from me). More to the point, she is now only 1 year away from being a legal adult. Even more to the point, I have but one more year (and a few months...she'll only be halfway done with her senior year when she turns 18) to make sure I've taught her the rudiments of what it will take for her to make her own way.

She's a good kid. A very good kid. Oh, she can't unload the dishwasher in less than 30 minutes to save her life, her room is thisclose to being condemned by the health department and she still prefers the floor to all other surfaces for the storage of her stuff. But she's a good kid. She may drive us ocassionally insane with her know-it-all attitude but she doesn't drink or smoke or do drugs. She asked for a purity ring for her birthday. She doesn't skip school or sneak out or break curfew. And when she is dealing with anyone other than The Spouse or me she routinely impresses them with her open heart, happy spirit, level head and good humor. This is me, counting my blessings.

But it is certainly very much on my heart today that this is a milestone quite unlike many others. This time next year my role will officially begin to shift from supervisory to advisory. Yes, she'll still be in our house for a while and the old "as long as your under my roof" thing will absolutely apply. But once the government recognizes her as an adult, so must I. This is a gift that Dame Judi gave to me (Sean, not so much...he didn't really "release" his daughters until they were married. Sean is way old school). From the time I left home, Dame Judi stopped telling me what to do. She was always there for me - and still is - any time I needed advice or perspective or prayer or just a sympathetic ear. But once I was on my own, she respected that I had to make my own way. She didn't always like how I did it and she no doubt bit her tongue more than once but she trusted that she'd given me a solid foundation from which to launch my own flight. And so, having no other model for it, that's what I now prepare to do for The Child. I'm now closer than ever to turning her out into the world, whether I think she's ready for it or not. (And let's face it, part of the "readiness" only comes with the doing. Gots to push them baby birds out the nest!)

But she's not going anywhere for now, except out for sushi with her parents, so no need to get all maudlin and crap. Not to mention that if I did get maudlin in front of her I'd get a big eye roll and a "Mu-ommmmm". She's still not too grownup.

*time honored phrase which I am determined to reclaim from She-who-must-not-be-named.

A Little Theory

2011-01-19T06:53:00.000-08:00

Has anyone else noticed that a whole bunch of us slowly stopped blogging about the same time a whole bunch of us got on Facebook? Even though the fundamental purpose behind Facebook (annoying ads and Zynga games) is not micro-blogging, I think status updates, at least on some level, satisfy the same somethingsomething as blogging (at least in the short term). Plus, once nearly everyone I knew got on it there was the immediacy of response. We still get to play with the comments. (And lord knows, most of us would admit that some of the best of our writing emerged in response to the cleverness of our readers).

Some bloggers, no doubt, just plain lost interest. But should the above theory be even remotely true, it goes a long way to resolving the mystery of why so many bloggers suddenly fell to earth at the same time.

Isn't It Always the Way?,

2011-01-18T06:10:00.000-08:00

Just when I decide to start blogging again, the 'e' key on my computer gave out. That's right. The 'e' key. Not 'q'. Not 'x'. Not 'z'. 'E'.

But, you say, you're using your computer now and there doesn't seem to be a problem.

You have no idea how hard those last 2 sentences have been. I have to do this pokey/slidey thing to activate the 'e' and it's annoying.

Well, you say, then do what I do: just blog at work until you get a new computer.

As I've explained to you before, that's not really an option, for a lot of reasons. For one, I share my office with MAB so when I'm not working she knows. And yes, I am allowed 2 15 minute breaks and 30 minutes for lunch but I don't usually take the breaks and lunch is usually spent eating at MAB's desk playing Monopoly (the card game...way faster than the board version). Plus, for me, blogging on company time isn't really company time. It's your time. Your taxes pay my salary and I have this big thing about not being a "typical government employee". I'm at work to work, to provide a service, and by cracky, I'm going to do it.

The Spouse did mention that he saw HP laptops at Costco for $400. So I may soon be taking some of that salary you so graciously allowed me and getting a new computer. One with a functional 'e' key. Also, one that doesn't require hitting ctl-alt-del every time I want to click on something other than the thing I'm doing right at the moment. And one that doesn't inadvertently click, drag and highlight whole sections of a page in a very random and weird way. And one that doesn't suddenly go "oorrrggg achugggggg". Or that doesn't occasionally pop up with a "no hard drive found" message that requires a panicked rebooting right in the middle of paying bills.

Yeah, I really need a new computer.

SNOWPOCOLYPSE 2011!

2011-01-11T19:42:00.001-08:00

It happens every time...

Some meteorologist sees snow a'comin' and the word hurtles through all channels. "SNOW IN THE FORECAST! How will it affect your commute?"

And we all know better. That snow is going to gently waft over the bunny slope on Mt. Rainier and then it'll rain in the lowlands after the run on generators and toilet paper at the local Walmart.

Except, of course, when it actually does snow. And in these parts, as little as 3 inches of snow can shut down the city. Last time it snowed (in November), I was caught about 5 miles from home and it took me 3 hours to return to the domicile...and that after abandoning my car half a mile from home because I couldn't get up the second to the last hill.

So when it was reported this morning that up to 3 inches was expected in the late afternoon and that it was advised that people leave work early if at all possible (so's to prevent the cluster that was the evening commute on aforementioned November evening), all I could think was how buggered I would be if it really did snow because The Child had rehearsal and needed picking up at 5 pm.

My choices were these:

If the snow came as predicted, risk life & limb to fetch her and spend 6 hours (or more) stuck in traffic with a sullen teenager

-or-

Tell her to come home after school, on the school bus, and miss rehearsal thereby assuring an evening at home with a sullen teenager.

I chose the latter.

It started snowing about an hour ago. And the anticipation of a potential snow day has erased, at least for now, all her anger at my over-caution preventing her from pursuing her chosen career.

Sometimes it is Sooooooo Good to Wake Up

2011-01-09T15:56:00.000-08:00

I just woke up from my Sunday nap. I don't actually always take a Sunday nap but we had a superfantastic party last night and I got sleepy while reading to Kiki so when she fell asleep I did, too.

Anyphantom, I had a dream wherein I was babysitting one of Sarah Palin's twin daughters. The one I was watching didn't seem to have a name (but she was very cute). Sarah arrived to pick up Nameless, accompanied by the other twin, whose name was Susie. Susie was on her tummy at Sarah's feet because, it turns out, she didn't like to walk but preferred to slide on her belly, which she did with remarkable grace. So they came in and first thing Sarah sees a reflection in a darkening window and cried, "Oh my gosh, is that Matthew Perry?" and then she ran into the adjoining room to see but it was only my brother, George Clooney, at the computer. (The truth is, my brother actually does look a lot like Matthew Perry).

Then Sarah came back out into the kitchen and we were just chatting and it was all very normal until it slowly began to dawn on me that I was talking to Sarah Palin. I casually asked her how she felt about her show being over, hoping to keep her occupied for a while so I could figure out how to tell her that I thought she was a very dangerous woman.

Just a Little Thing

2011-01-04T18:52:00.000-08:00

After the Republicans repeal health care reform* I would like them to do something really useful and make more hours in the day. Not, mind you, work hours. 8 of those a day is plenty. My request is very simple, too. I would just like 2, maybe three more hours in the day. One of them would be wedged between 6 and 7 am and the other between, well, as it turns out, 6 and 7 pm.

The extra morning hour would give me time to blog before I go to work AND still have time to actually get the day started, maybe do a thing or two that would advance the household agenda and maybe even eat a damn breakfast. The evening hour would allow me to just muddle around doing things before I have to put food on my family.

Is that too much to ask?

I think not.

*Oh, and btw, I get why the Republicans are going to go after health care. But if they had some class the FIRST thing they'd do, before stripping millions of Americans from the new security they are beginning to enjoy, is opt out - every one of 'em - from the government health insurance they receive as federal employees. If they don't want government to provide health insurance for regular folks, it seems a little, uh, disingenuous to be taking government health insurance for themselves, don'tcha think?

And We're Off

2011-01-03T06:08:00.000-08:00

The Child has been on break for two weeks, me for one. Today everything gets back to the other normal...early rising, the trip into school and then off to work. I'm thankful that I love my job; makes the leaving behind of leisure a little less sting-y.

The Child has been doing really well in school this year. Finally. The whole nearly-flunking-out thing shook her up and she's finally determined that both doing AND turning in her homework has merit. She even studies for tests. One of the conditions of her returning to her school was being tested...her counselor wanted to rule out any learning disabilities that could be contributing to her struggles.

This was a fruitful thing. We'd always known she was mildly dyslexic and the psychologist confirmed this. It was also discovered that while she has better than average intelligence the processor in her brain works more slowly. So, for example, she has an excellent grasp of the workings of mathematics but it takes her a long time to compute formulas. Therefore, the gap between her intelligence and her performance is significant enough that she qualifies for certain academic accommodations: more time for tests, audio books are highly recommended and she'll be able to have more time for the SAT. And that first bit, more time for tests, should help her grades even more because this year it's test scores that are bringing down her grades. (Granted, she's getting As and Bs this year but there's been a little sliding in Science and it owes to test scores).

Anynoodle, point is, she is working much harder and performing to her potential and so, after a quarter of academic probation, she was allowed to audition for the spring musical. And landed a small role. (Not a lead but not in the chorus, either. Last year she didn't even make it into the chorus). She's very excited. And I don't know if all this school stuff is part of it or if it's the fact that she is nearly 17 or a combination of the two but she has, all a sudden, become a much more mature young woman. There are fewer and fewer glimpses of the little girl and more and more evidence of the woman she's becoming. Which is delightful and freaky all at once.

Of course, at this present moment she is still lying in bed despite having been called 20 minutes ago and I suspect that the moment I hit "publish" and go to rouse her again there will ensue the classic grumpy teen/irritated mommy routine but still.

A Little Housekeeping

2011-01-02T13:55:00.000-08:00

Generally speaking, I have no intention of blogging on weekends. It's just that the first days of the year are falling on said weekend and I have motivational issues. Just so's you know.

It is a very beautiful, cold day. Kiki noted the "shunshine". Lots of that at the moment.

Oh, and speaking of Kiki, here are a couple of her more recent bon mots:

The other day I was fixin' on taking her out shopping (The Child had Christmas gift cards to burn through) and we planned on having sushi for lunch. I asked Kiki if she like edemame and she replied, "I like my daddy".

She is enamoured of computers and when she saw me typing an email to The Spouse she declared, "Me type". So I turned the keyboard over to her. She typed, and I quote, "hjkkkkklklkllllllllll;llkl;./ll;l;l;;l;';';';';oopopooop".

Isn't she brilliant?

Alrighty then. I took the week off between Christmas and New Years. I composed a list of areas in the house to organize. (Those cupboards and drawers used to stay pretty tidy when I was a full time homemaker. Now, not so much). Considering how much time I spent just sittin' on my arse, there are a lot of lines drawn through the list. But I never got around to my closet. And it has reached critical mass. So here I go.

First Blog Post of the New Year

2011-01-01T07:54:00.000-08:00

Do you ever do that thing where you wake up on the first day of the first month of a new year in a new decade where you think, "Oh, the first text message of the new year"..."Ah, the first cup of coffee of the new year"....like that?

It occurred to me this morning, when I received aforementioned text (at 7am...but from someone in another time zone so I forgive her), that my kid self did it a lot. Almost obsessively compulsively a lot. I have no idea why I was so struck by the occasion of things being a first; particularly given that we're not talking here about significant firsts (like cars or kisses). It was all of the ordinary and mundane: "this is my first breakfast of the new year"... "this is the first time I'm making my bed in the new year"..."I am not going to yell at my sister Martha Stewart for that stupid thing she just did because if I did then it would be my first yelling in the new year and I don't want to start out the new year like that"...

Maybe it was (is) my latent Celtic DNA, something that makes me predisposed to embrace turnings, shifts and tilts and to look for some personal meaning therein. I will, very shortly, cease the running "this is the first time..." commentary because my brain will refill with other noises. But it is a reminder of the importance not so much of firsts but of mindfulness. It's easy to be mindful on New Years Day. Because all is quiet on New Years Day. It's a day for lying around, for recovering from the night before. And in the quiet and the not-doing of New Years Day it is much easier to be aware. And that's still a quality I'd like to better cultivate in myself.

You know what I just realized? I've been very mindful so far in the new year. Yay me!

Happy felicitated new year!

Funny Thing Happened on The Way to the Blog

2010-10-04T21:55:00.001-07:00

I was reviewing some old posts tonight...doing a little research, if you will. And I was, well, reading old posts and the subsequent comments and I thought, "Who the hell is that woman? She's funnier than skeditch" and I really didn't have an answer.

Here's the Thing

2010-09-28T22:24:00.000-07:00

Sometimes I just can't believe that she's gone.

And I swear to you, sometimes I also can't believe that this is still gripping me like it is.

Because the fact is, as I have probably already mentioned, it's not like she was in my life for that long. Because if you leave out the first meeting and the annual Christmas Eve "Hi, how are ya's", we're talking less than 2 years. I made a list. Did I already tell you this? I made a list of all the times we were together from the time when it was clear we were going to actually be friends. And out of the 20 or so times on that list (I'm not kidding you...20 times or so) there were even fewer that were just her and me. And then she frakkin' died and I will NEVER get to talk to her again, or read her insightful blog posts or FB status updates (seriously...the silence from her now non-existent FB page is deafening) or hold her in my arms.

I didn't actually hold her in my arms that much, either. She wasn't a hugger in the way I am. She hugged, mind you, but not in the impulsive, "hi, I just met you but I'm pretty sure I love you" golden retriever way that I hug. And the last time I hugged her was in the doorway of my house. And she felt so fragile and small. I hugged her gently because it felt like she would break. And only a few weeks later she did.

I swear, I am still trying to figure out why there is this giant hole in my heart where Suzanne used to be. Because on the face of it, this shouldn't be so hard. I mean, omg, if this is what losing Sooz is like, I am waaaaay ill-equipped to lose any of the people with whom I have so much more history.

Sometimes I think it's just because of the baby - who I love and who I promised to always be there for and who is never going to know the mom who was so amazing and loved her so much. The baby who sometimes calls me "mama" because it's what babies do but whenever she does it just kills me because I am so not her mama. And more to the point, the kid isn't even going to remember her mama. And that breaks my heart. Because Sooz was the sort of woman who should be remembered. Especially by the baby she loved so damn much.

And sometimes I think it's just because of Peter...who I once loved and who is now back in my life in a whole new way and also in a very old and comfortable way...and thinking of the young boy I first knew and how just, well, WRONG it is that he should be a widower.

And then there are times when I know that I'm sad just for me. For what ain't never gonna be. I got this sliver of a glimpse at what friendship with her looked like and it's gone and I'll never know the comfort of it.

Mourning is a very selfish thing. I already figured that out. But, apparently, I'm not through with it yet.

Yippeeeee!

2010-09-21T08:35:00.000-07:00

Nineteen years ago, on the Autumn Equinox, I woke to a very foggy morning. Around noon the fog lifted to reveal the most gloriously perfect fall day. So I got all dressed up, walked to the Cathedral with friends and married The Spouse.

How, you ask, will we be marking this ocassion? The way all 19th anniversaries should be celebrated: with some chicken curry, Veuve Cliquot and the season premiere of "Glee", of course!

I love you, Spouse. I can't fit into my wedding dress anymore, but other than that, I'd do it all over again.

It's Friday Morning and that Means....Donuts!

2010-09-10T07:48:00.000-07:00

Just in case you're checking in because you are looking for a PR recap, sorry. I'm over it. Still watching, of course. Still taking a ridiculous interest in who is in and who is auf. (Bye bye, Casanova...not really gonna miss you - although it bears noting that neither MAB or I were remotely horrified by his ensemble last night. The way Kors was going on about it was really over the top. It didn't scream resort wear but then, neither did the winning garment. We thought Ivy should have gone home, both because her outfit was ugly and boring and also because she's a ring-tailed biatch who thinks far more of herself and her talent than the evidence can prove. And even though Andy's design was the most resort-y of the top three, we really like April and it was good to see her win. Plus, any time Gretchen is merely safe is a good day. Still not enjoying her at all, despite the attempts by the producers in the last 2 weeks to make her look like a laid back, fun person who loves her mommy. Whatever. Still can't STAND to hear her pontificate on the shortcomings of the other designers. OH! And we totally, totally loved what happened between Michael C and Mondo. When The Gunn came in with the velvet bag and teamed up the designers, when Mondo got visibly sick at the thought of having Michael C sew his design, when he trash talked Michael and told him to his face that he didn't have any respect for his ability we were - once again - flummoxed. Michael C has won 2 challenges. He may have a less sophisticated method of construction than the folks who aced Home Ec Sewing (that would be you, Ivy), you a) don't win a challenge without some talent for something, 2) his second win, for the renovation of a horrible bridesmaids dress was fantastic and C) unless there is something really significant that the producers are leaving out of the show, we just do NOT get the general disrespect and obvious loathing that the other designers have for Michael C. Does he chew with his mouth open or something? Seriously. So when he worked with vigor and commitment on Mondo's (immature and eye hurting) design and when Mondo recognized that Michael had more skillz than he had been given credit for and when Mondo apologized and even praised Michael C it was really quite wonderful. They were even sitting in the green room with their arms around each other. Mommy loves a good redemptive moment).

But I'm not doing recaps anymore.

Oops. Guess I just sorta did.

Oh, Mr. Sheffield

2010-09-07T08:11:00.000-07:00

And another thing. This blogging from work thing is pretty great because if I finish soon enough I have time to browse other blogs which, as you know, is at least have the fun of blogging. But for some reason I can't leave comments on JP's blog. That really makes me mad. But at least he's blogging regularly. That makes me happy.

Rise and Shine

2010-09-07T07:55:00.000-07:00

There are a lot of issues that get people pretty het up these days. But the one that bothers me the most doesn't seem to get any attention from the right, left or center. The silence on this subject is deafening. And to me, offensive. Am I really the only person who thinks that there should be a constitutional amendment preventing school from starting before Labor Day?

The good news? Aside from the fact that Labor Day weekend involved copious amounts of sitting around? This year The Child is taking Zero Hour, an opportunity afforded upperclassmen to take an extra credit of something. That means she can't take the school bus in because she starts at 7am. So I have to drive her in. (Because public transportation would mean that she has to leave the house at, like, 5am and while I am, without question, the worst mother in the world, I'm not going to make her do that). But if she has to get up at 6am then that means I have to get up at 5am. Because mama just ain't happy if she doesn't get some time alone in the house. And staying happy is more important than sleeping in. Yes, I just wrote that.

"Good news?" you say. "How can getting up at 5am for anyone who isn't a farmer or commercial fisherman possibly be good news?"

Well, not only do I get my quiet time, without which I would quickly crumble to dust and blow away, but it means I get to the office at 7:30, a good 30 minutes before my tour starts. "At work a full 30 minutes before you have to be?" says you. "How can that POSSIBLY be good news? Why would you go to work when you don't have to? Who does that?"

Don't you see? Now I can blog from work just like all the cool kids! Who knows? Might even become a habit. Again.

Don't Quit Your Day Job

2010-08-31T07:45:00.000-07:00

School has started, with the attendant joys of back-to-school shopping (love me some school supplies) and French onion soup (this year's requested menu by the student in question).

I can't believe The Child is a junior. No, really. She almost wasn't. The end of last year required no small amount of hard, hard work to keep her from flunking out. She pulled that off and went to summer school besides. Only, it turns out, not as much summer school as she needed. That was, on one level, my fault. With all the stuff surrounding Suzanne's death I confused some registration dates. But, as I mentioned to The Child when she attempted to ream me out for this lapse, if she hadn't flunked Algebra we wouldn't be in this mess to begin with. There were meetings and emails and no small amount of worry before she got the go ahead to register. She's making up Algebra in an extra class.

Here's the thing about The Child. She's smart. Plenty smart. She's just not an academician. She really could care less about things, unless she cares about them. (Civil War? Shakespeare? Bring it. Math? Not so much). And her strategy last year, the one that got her into trouble, was to work really hard on big projects and ignore all the little ones. What's 5 points here and there when you get 60 out of 50 on a 10 page paper, right? Wrong. Zeros, she's learned, add up.

She's also come to understand that while she may have every intention of being an actor, she's still going to have to graduate high school, go to college and have some options in life other than "Do you want fries with that?"

Last night, in a rather impressive display of intention, she sat down with me to review every single one of the syllabuses (syllabi?) for her classes. And then she talked about how excited she was about the subject matter ahead and her strategy for staying on top of her work and not letting things slide like she did last year. It was almost as if she finally got it.

Proof will be in the pudding, of course. Let's see what her attitude is like once the work actually begins. But at least she has the right attitude going into this, the sense that she can do this and that good grades are actually something of which she is capable.

Wish us luck. Meanwhile, I'm meeting Chouchou tonight for Bloody Mary dinner, our since-Rainey-went-back-to-work compromise on the traditional Bloody Mary Monday.

The Gunn Goes Off

2010-08-30T07:43:00.000-07:00

Here's how it went down on "Project Runway" last week:

The designers were divided into two teams of six. Michael C, who inexplicably won the week previous, got to pick first. (And if I'm not mistaken, April, who lost, got to start the other team). Then each designer got to pick the next one until only little Peach was left. PTSD. And lo and behold, what have we here but teams evenly divided between the Underdogs and the Egos!

The challenge? Create a collection of 6 pieces which sport "on trend" looks for fall 2010. (MAB and I know all about that because at lunch time we look at Bazaar and Elle* so we can plan our shopping trips accordingly). The Gunn presents them with a board of two columns, one of looks and the other of fabrics. The Underdogs select "military" and "lace", the Egos go with "menswear" and "cashmere" (which they interpret as all things luxe).

The Underdogs waffle as they sketch, no one feeling compelled to step in and say something stirring like, "Come on, kids! My dad has a barn...let's put on a show!" Over on the Ego side, however, Saint Gretchen quickly steps in to lead, although she attempts to make it look like she's being collaborative. The Underdogs operate out of tentativeness and a little fear, the Egos are quite convinced, what with being God's gift to the design world and all, that they are going to create the most amazing clothes ever. Oh, and they are going with a different strategy than the Underdogs; the Egos are playing to all their strengths, so the drapers with drape and like that, everyone theoretically working on a little bit of each design. True collaboration. And aren't they just self-congratulatory about how well they are working together.

Well, with one exception. The only reason Michael C is on their team is because he got to pick first. But not a single one of them has the least respect for him and they are merciless in letting him know it. They make denigrating comments, Gretchen is constantly fussing over his work and inserting her critique and they are downright mean both to his face and behind his back. Ivy, it turns out, is a stone cold bitch. Hate her. Now, I don't think Michael C necessarily has the chops to make it to Bryant Park but seriously, the way they were treating him was reminiscent of the Tea Baggers and the President.

Over on the Underdog side a nice steaming dose of drama was introduced by Casanova, who cannot stand to hear "the bad words" from The Gunn and sure enough, when Tim tells heem that his look is the mother of the other looks, he spirals into a diva moment that makes my palms itch. His team mates spend entirely too much time trying to talk him in off the ledge but it is his model (moved both by Michael C and an intense interest in self-preservation) who says to heem za words that are of tha angeel and he snaps out of it and bangs out a pair of pants to freaking die for. So there's that.

The show is on. The Underdogs trot out great piece after great piece. I fell asleep during the snooze that was the show of the Egos. Seriously. What wasn't downright bad was boring as hell. The Underdogs are immediately declared the winners and the Egos are, to a person, crestfallen, distraught, numb with disbelief.

Then the fun starts. Before they must defend their work the Egos confab. Gretchen broaches the subject of "giving them a name", which is doused by all the other designers. They will, they decide, stand as one and are all Hands Across America and weepy when they finally do face the judges. The judges drill them, "Who was the weak link?" At first everyone is polite and supportive, trotting out the "we worked together" line. Under pressure though, Gretchen snaps. She goes from being "incredibly proud" of their efforts to calling it a "crappy collection". She back pedals so fast that she ends up in Chicago. And then she throws Michael C under the bus. Except, as Heidi reminds her, he has immunity. Then Ivy throws Michael C under the bus. Except, as Heidi reminds her, he has immunity. And it goes like that until Heidi is forced to tell them that MICHAEL C HAS IMMUNITY. AJ is the only one who cops to any personal failing (primarily because he made an indefensible shirt dress and it was pretty much all he did). OH, and just for fun, the only thing the judges liked much at all was a blouse by Michael C. HA!

The judges so have the number of all the Egos and Nina does a good Gretchen impersonation.

On the winning team, Diva Casanova is declared the winner (and he is remarkably modest about it). On the losing side, Michael C, who, btw, has immunity, is safe and in the green room tells the Underdogs, ever so tearfully, how mean the Egos were to him. To our delight, Gretchen is one of the bottom two, for having made most of the decisions which, the judges noted, were bad. AJ is there for the ill fitting shirtdress. And despite hoping against hope that Gretchen will go, it is AJ, the only one with a smitch of integrity, who is auf'ed.

The look that Michael C gave Gretchen when she came into the green room had pure death in it. But the best was yet to come. The Gunn came into the room for his obligatory, "Clean up your work space" speech but what we got instead was the best moment ever in the history of "Project Runway". Tim came in, impeccable and stern and said, with powerful disappointment and barely controlled anger, using all the inflection of a father who just caught his daughter and her boyfriend in the backseat of the Cadillac: "Sit down for a minute, AJ. I have a few words for Team Luxe. I fundamentally do not understand your behavior and demeanor and affect on the runway. I don't get it. I don't know why you allowed Gretchen to manipulate, control and bully you. I don't understand it. And AJ, you've taken the bullet and now I have to send you up to the workroom to clean up your space."

That moment, and the look on Gretchen's face in response, are why mommy needs a DVR. Could have watched it again and again.

* Oddly, we never find ourselves in possession of Marie Claire. Hmmmm.

Untitled (Because Everyone is Going to Say "Hats Off")

2010-08-20T07:24:00.000-07:00

Little Louie the fashion pup was soooooo excited to go to the Club Room to watch "PR". Even though he picked incorrectly last week, he is a very fashion forward pup dog and he cares. The Neighbor did a kick just like the one Casanova does in the opening.

Last week we were left hanging as to Ivy's fate. Valerie and St. Gretchen theorize that she had been living on coffee and cigarettes and pontificate that she needs to take better care of herself. All this while Valerie appears to stuff her face with circus peanuts. (The puffy orange candy, not the protein source).

Ivy is released from the hospital. She was dehydrated. She feels stupid.

Heidi is wearing a top almost exactly like the one MAB has on!

The models come out, adorned with "amazing" hats designed by Philip Treacy. Their challenge is to design a dress inspired by one of the hats. Heidi makes an "old hat" joke. The designers get to choose the hat that inspires them but they all stick with their models. 15 minutes to sketch/$150 @ Mood.

Mondo thinks fabrics have voices and he can hear all of them. Of course.

Casanova whimpers to whoever will listen that he thinks he's going to quit because he cannot take anymore "bad words" from the judges. The other designers rightly judge that he is merely being a diva but apparently one or two things have seeped into his oddly shaped brain; to whit; he understands that he must show the judges that he has taste. Or as he put it, "Cho his chaste".

Kristin is struggling mightily because her hat is the only one that is literal. It's an orchid. She simply does not know what to do that will complement the hat while still displaying her design talent. We see so much of her dithering that we are convinced that she will be the one to go home. Or win.

We see Ivy eating. We see all the designers eating. See? The producers take care of the designers. Ivy fainting wasn't their fault. Please don't sue them.

Kristin begins to rhapsodize about flowers being "walking sex" and makes many "va-jay-jay" jokes with the gays. She gets all worked up and starts missin' her husband and suddenly has the inspiration for her design. Her dress will reflect the notions of love and romance.

Meanwhile, Michael C, who can be very snarky but also weeps ever so easily, is missing his kid (it's Father's Day) and he's just too sad to work properly. Which is reflected in his dress, which Ivy or someone calls a "hot mess" and which even he knows sucks. Badly.

The Gunn's Walkaround

Valerie is working to mix "soft and hard" in a very nice pink dress with a bodice that I just love. She is enamoured of a purple bedazzled zipper applied to the back for fun and The Gunn shares his philosophy that if you aren't going to use it then you don't need it. But she likes her zipper to nowhere so she's going to keep it.

April is make short shorts that look like a diaper. We don't know why. No one else understands it either.

Michael D knows that his look could easily dip into a sci fi costume but he's willing to take the risk and The Gunn tells him to boldly go where no one has gone before. No, he doesn't. But he does tell Michael "you want to walk the precipice!" There is art in the sense of danger. I guess.

St. Gretchen thinks Kristin's work - overall, not just this time - is "sloppy and lacks thoughtfulness". She is clearly preparing her resume to be a guest judge next season. And then to take Nina's place. And then to rule the world!!!!!!! Bwahahahahaha.

Peach is making a dress that is rather short. But not so short as to "show the good china". (MAB is so stealing that line). Tim cautions Mondo that he's got "a lot of look" but Mondo calmly replies, "It's what I do". Christopher is using what we consider to be a gorgeous fabric to make a beautiful top or dress or something....that part we can't quite figure out. And leggings are going to be involved. And he has a notion to use buttons as a design element. Which The Gunn poo poos as unnecessary.

To Casanova he asks, "Haven't we all seen this dress before? Donna Karan, 1988". Casanova stares at him blankly. Crickets chirp. Casanova continues gap mouthed. Finally The Gunn shrugs and says, "I don't know what else to say...finish it superbly!"

Michael C. knows his dress needs to be changed up but it is so bad The Gunn cannot offer suggestions for redemption, telling him he just has to start over. Before leaving the workroom The Gunn intones "Some of you have important decisions to make and I hope you will make them".

Michael D is snarky about Michael C and St. Gretchen decides April will be going home soon due to her overly costume-y taste. Michael C. talks to his kid about fish and then he is suddenly inspired and sings the praises of Tim's guidance while he makes a new dress that prompts Kristin to opine that his taste level is "questionable".

Day of the Runway
Mooch notes that April wears wild stockings every week. Michael C sings a little song about going home. Casanova gives himself a facial. St. Gretchen's makeup makes MAB and I share a wordless "WTF?" look with each other. Mondo wants his model to have a mustache since she's modeling "menswear". It could be kinda brilliant.

Casanova comments on Michael C's finished product, speaking the only sensible words I believe he will ever say: "Every girl in Puerto Rico has that dress in her closet".

Hey Guys - The Runway

Heidi is wearing a Philip Treacy hat. He is the guest judge with the regulars.

We are impressed with a number of pieces, although we sometimes quite like a dress (e.g. Peach) without seeing how it relates to the hat. Many bits leave us feeling ambivalent and some work is truly quite awful. Kristin's dress is just a mess of bits, April's diapers are ridiculous and Casanova is, once again horrible.

But that's just us. He was safe. As was, oh, looky at that face! St. Gretchen is merely safe and she no likey. This is delightful.

Michael D, whose hat made him think of architecture, warriors and farmers, is told by Mr. Treacy that he did a "great job". He loves how the shapes of his clothes complement the hat. Heidi thinks the skirt is very cool. Kors loves the detailing and shapes and Nina loves the back and how well the ensemble works with the hat.

Kristin shares her "romance" theme and Kors says, "Orchids are a beautiful, sexy flower" but he sees "no correlation" to that notion in her dress. Nina finds it too "matchy matchy" and "literal". Treacy likes that she emulated the stripes in the orchid but felt the dress should have been "more fragile".

Remember how much we liked Christopher's top/dress? Well, Heidi thinks it is "too dark, too sad". Nina finds it "stiff and overly designed" so that one cannot appreciate the lightness of the hat. Treacy looks at him with wet puppy dog eyes and softly says, "Simplicity can be beautiful". As in "This is not simple and it is not beautiful".

We cannot wait for what the judges think of Michael C's dress. Why? Why do we do this to ourselves? Kors declared "This is what harmony looks like! She is a goddess of the sea without looking like a costume". Say wha? Surely it's just Kors. But no. Nina agrees that the colors are perfect and she loves that he used a nude shoe. Heidi finds it beautiful with the hat and "beautifully done". Mr. Treacy calls it an "exceptional job".

The room tilts. I feel lightheaded.

April talks about her "futuristic resort" inspiration and Kors tells her that she picked the right category for her theme but that the pieces were a fail. He is repulsed by the "triple pantie" and when he has the model turn around and he sees a saggy bottom he moans, "Oh. No." Nina "doesn't mind" the top, finding it actually rather beautiful but in the end the concept was "sold short....literally". Treacy, who is obviously a very gentle soul who spends great amounts of time communing with nature and other higher powers when not concocting his ethereal and transcendent hats cannot bring himself to be harsh. So he softly says the look is "a little bit weak".

Valerie's dress is very, very pretty and Heidi declares it "one of my favorites". She admires the craftsmanship. Kors responds well to the "Stevie Nicks" hemline because it is "not expected" with the more severe (but beautiful) bodice and sculptured bolero. Nina winks that it is "mischievous" and "coquettish". Treacy, however, doesn't actually understand where Valerie is coming from in relation to his hat. Hmmmm.

After the runway we are all quite sure that Kristin will be out. Mooch, The Neighbor and Little Louie pick Michael D for the win and MAB and I go with Michael C. Not, mind you, because we think it is the best design but because the response of the judges was so completely other than what we thought that we are forced to rethink our thoughts.

And looky there! Michael C does win. And he cries. There are any number of shocked faces in the green room when he emerges triumphant. The other designers can barely bring themselves to congratulate him as they are all in a shocked state that is best summed up by Ivy as "WTF??????" But Michael C is euphoric and tearful and so lost in his joy that he fails to notice that no one else thinks he even deserved to be in the top 3, let alone win.

And despite the horror of April's triple pantie, Kristin is auf'ed for a dress that was "disappointing and unflattering". But you know what? She's actually relieved. She misses the real world and her husband and is ready to go home. She knows this isn't the end of the line designwise so she graciously bids the other designers adieu, hugs and kisses Tim and lumbers off into the sunset.

So there you go. Today MAB and I are going to make Philip Treacy inspired hats out of office supplies. Maybe there will be pictures later.

********

It's later....

Untitled (Because Everyone is Going to Use "It's My Party and I'll Cry if I Want To")

2010-08-13T08:11:00.000-07:00

Bathed in a beatific glow, Gretchen opens this week's show with a soliloquy on how much support the other designers are giving her and how happy they are for her back-to-back wins and how she is quite sure she'll win again, what with being anointed and all. This is balanced by footage of the other designers saying, mostly, "Whoa, has her attitude changed".

The designers meet with Tim for this week's "unconventional materials" challenge. No, we're not going to be looting grocery stores or tearing apart new cars. The designer have $100 and 30 minutes to ransack a party supply store. Tim does caution them that "the judges don't respond well to materials that resemble fabrics".

St. Gretchen is not pleased: she won't go for anything "cheeseball...because nothing I design is cheeseball". She will "remain true" to her aesthetic.

Casanova is drawn to plushies and, ignoring Tim's advice, gets table covers.

Peach has "a complete plan", AJ & Mondo confab as they are trending in the same birthday direction. Casanova gleeflully eviscerates stuffed animals, or as he calls them, "The plawsh pawppies". April is happy because these unconventional challenges "open you up to sole creativity". Mondo's hands have stopped shaking.

For reasons I don't quite understand, everyone deems this challenge right up AJ's alley, a point he affirms a million times. But he doesn't want to do anything "messy".

St. Gretchen opines that "Valerie is good; she will be in the top three with me". But lest we read that as any sort of humility, she adds that she is "a force to be reckoned with". I'd like to show her some force.

Casanova sniffs at the other designers because he's not into "the crazy stuff" they like. Yeah. He's all couture and that.

Gretchen flits from designer to designer offering her sage advice. Gretchen, STFU.

Tim's Walk Around
He greets AJ with effusive words that "this is your sensibility" (Michael snarks about glue guns). But in looking at AJ's work Tim says he's "a bit concerned" about how "the disparate parts" are to be put together.

Valerie is working on a brilliant black and white dress of napkins, with a splash of color for a belt. Tim is "not understanding the intervention of the teal" and urges her away from it. They make references to the Ascot scene in "My Fair Lady". (FYI, in case you weren't raised on musicals like mommy, in that brilliant piece of movie costuming everyone was wearing black and white).

Kristin is working with pet toys, specifically an item called "animal wooly balls". The ensuing ball jokes render The Gunn red and apoplectic with hysterical laughter.

Christopher is concerned about his skirt but The Gunn thinks it's "fabulous", giving Christopher the courage to go on. Meanwhile, The Gunn tells a dithering Peach that she has "a piece of coal in your rear end. Make a diamond!" Michael is waiting for a slam but gets a "sensational", The Gunn also loves Sarah's palate and finds that what she is doing is "upbeat" and looks as if "something Schiaparelli is happening". Sarah loves that assessment but it turns out that she's not really inspired by what she's doing and rather than trusting her instincts she is trying to force a rubber palm tree too literally into her design.

Tim graciously congratulates Gretchen on her second win while the other designers exchange "looks". She natters about her aesthetic and The Gunn urges, "Gretchen, do it! Listen to your own voice!" (To which Moochie queries, "Yes, but which voice?" )

Casanova admits to doubts about the judges reaction to his table covers and The Gunn says, "Did you not listen to me?", then adds that he didn't say they couldn't use fabric-like materials and that if he creates his design "fabulously" the judges can come around.

While Sarah is in the depths of her struggle to get excited about her own design guess who is at her side offering opinions?

The models come in, bearing gift bags that contain this week's twist. The designers must craft an accessory from the random contents of the bags.

Gretchen is going on again about how she'll be in the top three and the other designers are all rolling their eyes and being all "oh, no".

Mondo is a freak. He has a fake mustache. He is also wearing something that is reminiscent of a Catholic school girl uniform. This oddity finds Moochie just a little turned on and he spends the rest of the evening rocking himself in a corner of the Club Room.

MAB and I have decided that "Piperlime Accessory Wall" does not trip easily off the tongue and we would like a different, more dulcet name, please.

Andy is behind because he is meticulously crafting every inch of his garment so Peach and April offer to help him. While he sings the praises of their generous hearts St. Gretchen sniffs that this is inappropriate because he clearly has a "time management issue". I should note that she now has her hair up and her makeup is severe and she looks like an officious biatch. Mooch asks, "When did she become a judge?"

Hey Guys: The Judging

Kors and Nina are joined by the very freaky but you-can't-help-but-love-her-weirdness Betsy Johnson.

But first, our reactions:

Christopher: "Sooooo pretty!!!!!"

Michael: "Horrible, too stiff, too Jetsons". Mooch thinks it looks like a lamp shade.

Andy: "Wow! Just wow!"

AJ: "That's a mess". (MAB thinks Johnson will love it). It's too short.

Ivy: Pretty dress but MAB thinks it makes the model look fat.

Michael C: "That's couture!" (Gorgeous red gown)

Peach: "Cute" .

Gretchen: Dammit. It's good. Mooch loves it. I hate the skirt.

Mondo: meh

Casanova: "Whoa! Too much going on there". "It is pretty dramatic, though".

Kristin: Kinda sorta.

April: What Peter Pan would wear to a red carpet event. (Some of us like it).

Sarah: Oh. So horrible. "She's out".

Valerie: Loving. It.

The judges weigh in:

Kors declares that Valerie has done a 360 in styling declaring it looks like a "modern girl". (And Gretchen nods her head in agreement). Nina calls it "fun yet sophisticated, graphic, lovely" and Betsy is very excited that if you spill dim sum while wearing it you can clean up easily. No, seriously, she read the napkins as a functional statement. Freak.

Heidi tells AJ his dress is "silly", Nina says there is nothing wrong with camp but this is just a "hot mess", to which AJ replies "Thank you". "That's not a compliment", says Kors. Kors doesn't like how it is cut, or rather, not cut to the model's body and finds what he calls "the crotch fringe" repulsive. BJ, on the other hand, only wishes that it had been taken farther.

Andy's look is "exciting" to Kors, who adores how he transformed the material. He can see Rhianna and Heidi fighting over that dress. "I saw it first," says Heidi. Nina says it is "remarkable" and BJ applauds the execution and then says she "misses the fun, it's too beautiful".

Casanova gets a classic Korsism: "She looks like a transvestite flamenco dancer at a funeral". BJ loves that it looks like one dress in the front and another in the back but Heidi says there were "too many things going on and they went wrong".

Nina dismissively tells Sarah her dress "seems very simple". Kors says it doesn't look like a fully composed idea. BJ says "its a mish mosh" and "it's not funny...I guess that's sad".

Gretchen receives a "fabulous" from Nina, although she's not fond of the length of the skirt. Kors can see that she used herself as a template. BJ says it's "'Dreamgirls' on the bottom and 'Mad Max' on the top" but neither she nor Heidi like the boots with which she's accessorized the outfit.
In the green room AJ and Gretchen mix it up a little and she's very snotty and I hate her now.

MAB and little Louis the tea cup poodle pick Valerie to win. The Neighb and I like Andy's chances and Mooch votes for Gretchen. We all think Casanova is gonna go, except MAB, who picks Sarah.

Andy wins!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Hallelujah and praise the little baby Jesus in his golden diaper! Gretchen looks like she swallowed a very bitter pill.

While Casanova has been in the bottom three "for a reason", it is Sarah who is auf'd, pretty much just for being "sad and boring and not following her instincts".

All the little designers are very sad to see her go. So are we.

And all that pre-show hype about someone being taken away in an ambulance? Ivy passed out and that's all we know. Stoopid producers.

You Arrived Like a Day and Passed Like a Cloud

2010-08-10T19:20:00.000-07:00

I don't mean to be Debbie Downer here, folks, but Rainey is really sad. This thing with Sooz has just got me so so so veryvery sad. One piece of it, for sure, is just the whole thing of Peter being a widower and Kiki losing her mom before she's even old enough to remember her, which is bad enough. My friend is broken hearted and there is nothing I can do about it.

But the other thing, which is really selfish, is my loss. Because this isn't a loss like I'm used to. I've lost people before and that is its own kind of sadness. But with Suzanne, we're talking about a person who I had only started to get to know. She wasn't one of my best friends but over time she would have been. Our lives were intertwined, forever, because she asked me to be Kiki's godmom. And when I said "yes" to that I told her that it was for life. "In for a penny, in for a pound" were, I believe, my exact words. I told her that being that child's godmother wasn't just for the day of her baptism but was a commitment for life, to the child and to her and Peter as they raised her. Never in my wildest dreams did I think that signing on for first days of school and sex talks and first sacraments and bad boyfriends that there was any possibility of it being done without Suzanne. But when I told her that if I was in I was all in her response was "Love. Every. Word". And so we began to build our friendship.

But we didn't have much time. I counted it up yesterday. There are less than 20 occasions where Suzanne and I were together, not counting phone calls - which were frequent - and Facebook, which was even more frequent. One dinner, one lunch, one BBQ, one pedicure, 2 brunches, a handful of parties. Every one of those occasions is clear in my heart, like scenes from a movie. Like the time she turned to me at The Child's Sweet Sixteen party and asked, "How did you do it? How did you raise a teenager who is so totally aware of the world but still so sweet and innocent?" Never having been asked that I said something inane, like "I don't know" and then we talked about it. Because I don't really know how you raise a child. You just do what you have to do each day and somehow all those little exercises lead up to the end product. But the point is, I have so few memories of Suzanne that I can remember them all vividly. Which I guess is a good thing.

Yesterday at her wake Peter was playing her iPod...Sooze's playlist. And it could have been mine. Well, actually, mine has way more 80's music and no BTO but still. "Talk of the Town" by The Pretenders came on and I started to cry. Because that is one of my favorite songs and all I could think was "Dammit...we could have been besties and we're never going to be because the frakking cancer came and took her away". And then I felt REALLY selfish because there were people on that rooftop, eating fabulous food and drinking pink champan-ya (her favorite), that had lost so much more than I had...so much more time and history. People who talked to her every day. People like her mom. Her husband. And there I was boo hooing because I didn't have her anymore.

Oy to the frakking vey.

Anywake, the point is, I'm really going to miss this woman I didn't even know as well as I could have but who is going to be a constant part of my life because she has entrusted me with the spiritual life of her beautiful child. And right now, it is a weight past bearing.

Who Can Turn the World on With Her Smile?

2010-08-09T07:36:00.000-07:00

The Posse convened again in the Club Room and caught the last few minutes of last week's show, prompting MAB to declare that her new strategy is to vote for the ugliest garment to win.

The designers go to the roof of Atlas to meet Tim, Heidi and Joanna Coles, editor of "Marie Claire" magazine. Please note, we have been to the roof but we have not had champagne. Joanna challenges the group to create a design that will typify in one look the essence of the "Marie Claire" reader. In case you don't know who that is she is someone who is smart, sexy, confident, educated, turns water to wine and never has a bad hair day. A photograph of the winning garment will make it onto a 40 ft. billboard positioned in Times Square. It will be photographed by some big name who isn't Annie Leibowitz.

The designers have 30 minutes to sketch, 30 minutes and $150 dollars to spend at Mood and must have the garment completed by midnight.

I hate Jason's hat.

Peach isn't happy with her fabric choices, even though she loves polka dots. So do I. Please note:
MAB got them, too:

Valerie looks like a Pink Lady in "Grease". AJ refuses to help Casanova pattern. It's every man for himself, baby.

Tim Gunn's Walk Around

TG "responds positively" to Valerie's look and urges her to "keep it clean".

Mondo isn't sketching but is doing a tutu skirt with a halter. Tim accords him "blind trust".

Tim says Jason is using "gorgeous colors" but when Jason tries to describe his concept, which is based on the number 8 for "infinity and the 8th season of PR" Tim is perplexed and says, "I'm concerned about you." Jason later whines that he is a "straight man in a gay man's world". Wha wha. He can still get married anytime he wants.

Grethchen has a singsongy voice. That's gotta get annoying.

Casanova, having given us pure vulgarity last week, is opting for a matronly design this week. Tim says he is "baffled". Meanwhile, the other designers have noticed that Casanova seems to speak perfect English when he is with them and then gets all ESL with Tim and the judges. The designers aren't buying it.

Nicholas is ripping off Gretchen, making a back that is very similar to what she did last week. He has a jacket-y cape about which Tim feels "ambivalent".

Michael's design is dismissed with a scathing "it's Blanche Devereaux". Thank you for being a friend. Not.

Peach's look is deemed "discordant" and since she agrees she starts all over.

There is another element to the challenge. Of course. The designers looks are going to be photographed and they must choose one picture to show at the runway. This photo will be given weight in the overall judging.

Gretchen tells us that Casanova could be very annoying if he "wasn't so charming". This proves The Neighbor's assertion that she is friends with ganja. Generally speaking there is a lot of love between the designers but Mondo is lonely and his art is a curse and he cries and it's sad. MAB thinks he's bipolar, a diagnosis that has some merit given how damn perky he is the next morning.

The designers have 2 hours the next morning to get ready for the photo shoot. Tim urges them to give it lots of "attitude" and to be editorial. And don't forget to be thoughtful about choices from the Piperlime Accessory Wall.

It would appear that the show has been expanded to 90 minutes in order to give us more time in the hair and make up rooms. And more time for the inane conversation that takes place in the green room. This is not an efficient use of our time.

Michael tells Jason that he loves his freaking 8 dress. But he only says this, he confesses to us, because he's afraid Jason will come up behind him with a pair of scissors. (Insert "Psycho" theme here).

Jason has pinned his garment - again. When the photographer points out the problem with this when the garment is rendered huge on a billboard, Jason opines that "the judges need to get over" such minor quibbles. Right. Because sewing isn't a huge part of fashion design. Silly judges.

Hey Guys: The Runway

Heidi points out that there will be 15 left standing - "or less". Oh, Heidi. You tease.

Kors & Nina are joined by Joanna.

Nicholas has created a skirt that is alright but otherwise we give him a "no". We love Chris' top so MAB goes for the hate.

Jason is clearly clueless, AJ himself declares that his design "looks like larvae", Peach's dress is boring and Michael gets a Nina look for his too short dress.

We love Valerie's red dress, so MAB hates it but she likes Casanova's matronly ick fest for real. Gretchen has made an ensemble for a chick mechanic and we are basically split on everyone else.

Peach's polka dots are polka nots: "ladies who lunch", "Amish cocktail party". Nina doesn't like the styling (she is way too into accessories this season) and Joanna doesn't like the "animal" climbing down the back (some weird brown accent that was supposed to give the garment a twist but looks creepy).

Valerie, on the other hand, is declared "innovative and sophisticated". Nina finds it "sexy but conservative", Kors says it has "simplicity and interest" and says red was a smart choice. Joanna thinks it is great.

Jason says his design is "edgy and youthful" but the judges disagree. Nina doesn't know how interesting it would be on a billboard, Kors deems it a "walk of shame dress" and Joanna can't believe he selected the photo he did.

Gretchen nailed it, though. Heidi says the model looks "like a cool girl", Kors finds it "modern from head to toe", Joanna likes its "effortless ease" and Nina totally gets a "Marie Claire" reader out of the look.

We don't want to make him cry but Nicholas is raked over the coals. Nina says there are too many details for a billboard, Joanna calls it "utterly unsexy" and Heidi thinks that without the cape the back is strange.

Crazy Mondo gets a spirit boost with enthusiastic responses like "really cool" and "great spirit". Joanna tosses her beret into the air at his Mary Tyler Moore inspiration because MTM is apparently the reason she wanted to move to the United States.

We have a new judge in the posse, MAB's teacup poodle, Louie. We each picked a winner then called to him. The lap into which he jumped represented his vote. He picked Mondo. So did all of us. Except The Neighbor, who went with Valerie. What? You think it's weird to let a poodle vote? Makes as much sense as any method employed by the judges. As to the loser, however, we were unequivocal in our selection. Bowler Hat must go.

However, our picks were only merely safe as Doobie Sister Gretchen wins again. But Jason, with his lack of skills and bag o' excuses is auf. He's an ass. He didn't even stick around for The Gunn to give him a "bon chance". But that's ok. Good riddance. And Tim still got to be paternal and loving to Nicholas, who was also auf'ed. He is crying veryvery hard and MAB hopes there is someone who can check on him later, lest he fling himself from a 40 ft billboard in Times Square.

It was, in Tim's words, "a rough runway".

Right Here, Right Now

2010-08-06T20:54:00.000-07:00

This is going to sound ever so cliche and you'll probably respond with a "geez, isn't this a lesson you shoulda learned by now?" but ever since Suzanne's passing I've really been trying to live more in the moment. Because moments, strung together, are all we get and we're not promised an infinite number of them. At least not in this life.

I'm trying to slow down. To leave less undone (because the thought of someone else having to wade through what I've left behind seems the height of cruelty). To look into the eyes of the people I love more often. To really taste my food.

Wouldn't it be swell if I could keep this up for a while? Like, the rest of my life?

Oh, and also, MAB and I went for our almost weekly manicure/pedicure after work last night and I got polka dots on my nails. They look way awesome. And having fun and giving a hang about what people might think about a 50 something woman with polka dots on her finger nails and toesies is a part of my personal credo that I've always done a pretty decent job of doing but now it's even more important.

Project Runway Returns and I Procratinate

2010-08-02T06:43:00.000-07:00

Good golly, says you. We've been tapping this link for days, anticipating your recap of the premiere episode of Season 8 (8!) of "Project Runway". Where have you been??????

Sorry. Been a little preoccupied with personal matters and, well, if the truth be told, I really hate recapping the first episode of a season because I don't know who anyone is and I can't keep them straight and I already find myself anticipating the elimination of the first dozen of them so we can get down to the real business of snarkifying and betting.

So, YAY! Season 8. Thankfully (and despite rumors to the contrary) we are still in NYC. The Project Runway Posse (Moochie, MAB, Nurse Jacquie, The Neighbor and Moi) gathered in the Club Room of MAB's superfantastic chic downtown apartment building to watch on the big screen. And right before it began we all sang "Happy Birthday" to Tim Gunn, complete with harmonies. Which is more than my dad - who shares The Gunn's birthday - got. That's what Daddy gets for not hanging out with Heidi Klum.

Speaking of Heidi, as the show begins Moochie notes that she is NOT with child.

Now, as you know, the first episode is always devoted to a whole lot of introductions and after 8 seasons the producers decided to try something new which, provided "something new" doesn't involve LA or leaving Nina and Kors off the judges panel, they are more than welcome to do. But I wasn't really smitten with the changes. First Heidi & Tim engage in some non-informational banter about their impressions of the new challengers and then the designers give brief bios of themselves as little knots of them meet up in train stations and on the street. The sketches and stories all ran together and I don't even remember half of them.

The strongest impressions - for good or ill -were:

Casanova from Puerto Rico who seems like a cliche from an SNL sketch and looks like the dude who played "Hell Boy". MAB won't look at him for fear of turning to stone.

Sarah looks like the love child of Annie Lennox & Pink. We like her sketches. A lot.

Peach, the self-described "old lady" designer, has a fun personality and we like her but given that we are all her age or older, she needs to lay off the "old lady" crap.

McKell has dreads, tats and is from, of all places, Utah. She also has a 9 month old baby who isn't with her, of course, but back home. Poor little abandoned baby.

Kristin allows mistakes to become part of her design and gives us the season's first catch phrase: "embrace the crooked zipper".

Mondo aptly describes himself as "a little strange". He looks like the offspring of Clint Howard and the Beav.

Nicholas is Clinton Kelly's weirder, gayer twin.

Gretchen is this season's token boho hippie chick. "She sews with hemp," observes The Neighbor.

Michael already thinks he's a big deal so we don't like him.

And we'll leave it there for now.

There are still too many designers for the competition so the first challenge is going to be the final phase of the audition. Heidi instructs the designers to pull one item from their suitcase to use as inspiration. Everyone very carefully selects a garment and then Heidi, who loves the twist, tells them to pass the item to the designer on their left. OUCH! Casanova - argh! don't look straight at him! - has a kitten since he selected $1,000 Dolce & Gabana trousers. Shoulda brought some Dockers, Casanova.

The designers have 5 mere hours to create and because time is at a premium, Mood comes to them. Thank you, Mood.

There is token bitching about the quality and type of garments each has been given, Peach has no blood in her head and they get to work.

The Gunn's Walk Around

McKell is feeling "frazzled" but Tim thinks what she's doing is adorable. So do we.

Nicholas has started out with a polyester jacket and Tim tells him his work is "provocative" and "potentially very good".

When asked, Casanova tells Tim he is "good" but he's not convincing, which probably owes to the very ugly mess on his mannequin. Tim queries, "Is it sexy or is it vulgar?" (The correct answer is "vulgar").

April has turned a tuxedo jacket inside out and The Gunn scowls at her lack of vision or finished product.

Gretchen, in contract, discourses eloquently on her "process" and the "essence" of the piece. Tim appreciates her thoughtfulness and says he's "completely with her".

Peach is freaking over the very tenuous nature of the red wispy stuff she has inherited, which unravels when you look at it. Tim makes some artful suggestions.

Mondo is constructing something from grandma's sofa cover and Tim tells him it needs to be "more youthful".

It's time for dressing our pre-selected models and thoughtfully using the Piperlime Accessory Wall. Jason is distracted by his model's boobs. Because she has them. Peach dithers about her model's hair while Casanova forcefully describes the hair style he wants. To the make up guy. Kristin forgets her model in the hair room and has only time to instruct make-up to give her "bold, red lips".

Hi Guys: The Judging

Nina and Kors are joined by the cutely squishy faced Selma Blair.

Considering that the designers only had 5 hours, which is an absolutely ridiculous amount of time, there are quite a few looks that we find ever so pleasing, including those by Peach, McKell, Andy, & Kristin. But there is a whole lotta "eeewww" and "ho hum" from our Posse as well. We particularly do not enjoy Sarah & Michael. Gretchen has made a plain black dress with floppy sparkly caplet sleeves to which MAB responds, "It's bad". It is not, however, as bad as the mess Jason has sent down, which looks exactly like the gown I don at Gene Juarez when I get my hair did, only the gowns at Gene Juarez aren't stapled together and falling apart at the seams like that mess.

Casanova sends down one of the worst things we've ever seen. "No," Nurse Jacquie firmly says, "It is THE worst thing we've ever seen". It's so bad that the camera lingers on Nina making a classic "oh, no you didn't" face.

The designers all line up and Heidi declares that there is a unanimous winner. Gretchen! Say what? We look at each other in astonishment and MAB buries her head in her little tiny hands and moans, "Gonna be another season where I just. don't. get. it". The Neighbor consoles her by opining that Gretchen must have gotten the judges high first.

While we pick up the pieces of our shattered expectations, Heidi declares that none of the remnants should feel safe and MAB notes that they are all looking at Casanova and thinking, "Oh, no. I'm safe".

Highlights of the judging:

Ivy had to defend turning toile capri pants into, uh, pants. Heidi said Jason's "creation" looked like "my hair dressing cape" (what did I say?) and told April that she wasn't sure the shredded look of her garment was "intentional" then added the dreaded "it's a hot mess". Kors said he likes deconstruction, as long as one knows the designer can also construct. Nina just dismissed the whole thing as something to be worn by "an '80's street walker".

Nina liked the mix of fabrics McKell used but dissed the styling, including the pink bag the model was carrying which, btw, was just exactly like bags that MAB and I have (different colors but exactly the same bag) which ellicit compliments EVERY time we carry them so "pft" to you, Nina.

Nicholas nearly cries.

Kors had a plethora of Korisms to describe Casanova's disaster, chief of them being "She looks like a pole dancer in Dubai". Nina called it "fascinatingly bad" (think road kill....it's horrible but you can't help looking). Selma "loved and loathed" the look. Which is a big "uh oh" because their grudging horror is pretty much a guarantee that Casanova is going to survive this round so he can be horrible yet again. And MAB still has to avert her eyes.

Sure enough, he survives, as does everyone but poor little tattooed, dreaded up McKell. Which we think is just appalling under the circumstances because she at least created something that a human being on Planet Earth would actually wear. And The Gunn agreed, telling her that he stood by his earlier statement that the dress was adorable. It's only fault, apparently, was that it didn't fit the model well. Which is still no excuse for some of the piss poor work that survived and may I also add that while we all understand the penchant for reality TV producers to find the "personalities" that will keep people returning week after week, if the best they've got this season are the likes of Mondo and Casanova, well, that will just be sad. Almost makes me miss freaking Santino.

Yes, Of Course I Will

2010-07-30T06:43:00.000-07:00

Recap "Project Runway", that is. But not right now because there is a big thing at work today to get ready for a bigger thing on Monday.

Heights and Depths

2010-07-23T06:41:00.000-07:00

The sun is shining beautifully this morning, which is quite nice of it considering that most mornings this week have started out overcast. Even when it burns off (and it has), there is something a little impertinent about a summer morning starting out grey.

My youngest niece is getting married tomorrow, to a handsome sailor. I have pledged to sing "O Promise Me". (It's a family joke). Except over the weekend my niece Jane Austen and I decided that she's going to sing with me and it's going to be a mashup of "O Promise Me" and "Endless Love". And believe me when I tell you that I wish we'd thought of that sooner because we really would have worked it up, complete with a dance number and it would have been FANTASTIC!

On the downside, my darling Kiki's momma is slipping away very fast. For the record, ovarian cancer is a very cruel and sucky condition and it should be outlawed. Immediately. I got to say my 'goodbyes' yesterday and now am just waiting. Waiting for the phone call. Waiting to help. Waiting. I learned a lot of important things yesterday, which I will maybe share another time. But one of the most profound was this: I have never before been at the bedside of someone who was actively dying. And it came to me with the most gentle clarity that death is preferable to dying. It was a gift and a luxury to have time to say 'goodbye' and 'I love you' and 'thank you for the gift of your daughter'. And I hope everyone who loves Sooz gets there in time to have that gift. But then my only hope is that she will go swiftly. There will be a huge void in the world with her gone and there will be a lot of pieces to pick up and all that. But her sticking around, suffering, is not right. At all.

As usual, any prayers/candles/naked pagan dances you have to offer would be very much appreciated.

It's not yet 7. Who needs another cup of coffee?

Update: Suzanne passed away on Saturday morning, July 24. I'd said a final 'goodbye' to her about an hour before. I'll need to write more on this later but right now am still processing all that has happened and what it means. Rest in peace, Sooz. You are deeply loved.

2010-07-05T10:09:00.000-07:00

I celebrated the 4th of July by declaring my independence from a POS car.

Fergie the Focus, which has by and large been a good little car, has been in decline for some months now. Among her many troubles was a leaking manifold, which The Mechanic said wasn't worth fixing given it would cost more than the value of the car. He gave her a few tweaks, enough to squeeze a few more months outta her. And, frankly, that probably cost more than she was worth as well. But she drove ok, provided you didn't mind horrible grinding noises & rumbles when stopped or the"check engine" light that randomly came on and off or the front bumper that was nearly off because of the accident a few months back or the 10 years of accumulated kid crud that I had just given up trying to keep clean.

The other day I was on my way to work and the car started to fish tail. I pulled over, thinking that the tire with the bent rim that is always leaking air (see? POS) had gone flat. But it, while low, was not flat. The right rear tire was, however, tilting at a very odd angle. I called a friend to come look at it; he judged it a problem with the axle and gave me a ride in to work. The nice AAA tow truck driver who later pulled it up to the house said that the bracket for the axle had broken.

That is when the skies parted and the car gods spoke unto me and say, "Yea, verily, this car is a POS and it is time to replace it and aren't you just thankful to your very good car angels that this axle thing didn't happen on the frakking freeway?" to which I responded, "Yes, lord".

And so it was that Saturday found The Spouse and I at the Ford dealership buying a Fusion hybrid. Which looks like this:

Isn't it beautiful? (And don't be one of those party poopers who tells me that black cars are hard to keep clean because I don't care and if you can't be happy for me just be quiet; which, btw, is exactly what I told The Neighbor when she started in on the whole black-car-hard-to-keep-clean thing).

There is a whole lot about this car that is way cool. Like being able to plug in my iPod and then give voice commands. (Except the car hears "Lady Gaga" as "Abba", which I think is just hysterical). Or the fact that my mobile phone is synced up to the car for hands-free "call home" kinds of communication (except I haven't quite figured out how to make that work). Or the lighted cup holders (I have the light set onto a kind of disco pink). Or the fact that there is, per cubic inch, more storage space in the car than in my house. And then there's the leather seats (I said it was a hybrid, not a vegan) and the retractable moon roof and the new car smell.

But coolest thing of all, seriously, is that driving this car is kinda like playing a video game. The display on the dash shows you all sorts of awesome stuff (the more leaves, the greener you are driving). And it calculates you overall mpg, which is slowly creeping up by 1/10th increments with every trip. It is, The Spouse said, like unlocking achievements in a game: "Whoo hoo, I unlocked the 'Smug Hippy Achievement! Now I can upgrade my weapons!'"

Actually, that's pretty great but truly the best of the best things of all is the reliability of a new vehicle. For the last 6 months any time I got in my car I got knots in my stomach, wondering if this would be the trip when the old girl would finally give out. It's a relief to not have that concern now; and if something does happen Ford has to fix it for free. That is one of the best feelings in the world.

Anyway, I have the day off and some errands to run so I'm gonna go see if I can unlock the "Smug Yuppie Achievement".

Things in Omaha That Made Me Laugh (or Smile or Otherwise Happy)

2010-06-16T14:03:00.000-07:00

When I go to Omaha, as I now do at least once a year, the impression that is given is that I go to visit my Poodle. Which is true. Why else would a person go to Omaha, Nebraska for vacation if not for a Poodle? But there is something else I get from it. For me, being in JP's beautiful Old Market loft apartment is like a spa vacation. First of all, JP is just the consummate host. He insists on paying for everything. (Sometimes I force him to let me pay for things but it always involves threatening to create a scene). Second, he's the sort of host who says, "Wake me when you get up". Like, if he were by himself he'd wake up when he freaking wanted to but he doesn't want me to have to fend for myself. (I don't wake him up. I get up and make coffee and he hears me and comes toddling out). Which leads me to #3: he makes sure there is coffee around because he knows I love it; even though he doesn't really drink coffee. (His friend Minogue also knows this about both of us and when she came over she brought a bag of coffee from Scooters, the local beanery). And that parenthetical statement leads me to No. 4, which is that JP has some really nice friends and they are all super nice to me. Actually, they make me feel a little like a local hero.

But most of all, it is a spa vacation because the whole time I am there we do whatever we want. We eat when, where and what we want, drink when and where we want, watch stuff on TV if we want, sit around talking if we want, entertain if we want. There is not a smitch of obligation about the time and it feels languorous and restorative - a total break and the complete opposite of my real life, which is full of obligation and deadline and expectation and responsibility. (Not that there is ultimately anything wrong with that but lordy, a girl needs a break once in a while).

The other thing about being in Omaha is that there is a lot of laughing. And laughing is a very healthy thing.

Miss Smay, holding forth. Always amusing.

The birthday boy received a lot of gifts to ease his transition into his golden years. Like reading glasses and adult diapers.

They were pretty comfy.
They also provided a source of endless amusement for Miss Smay.

Here he is, using a diaper to assist his Lady Gaga impersonation.
Jon (pretty much all JP's friends are required by law to have a name that begins with "J". I was grandfathered in) wasn't any good at the Kung Fu dance on the Wii so he used the controller as a microphone and rocked out instead.

Then we danced.

Minogue, the most photogenic woman in the world. Also one of the sweetest. Provided, that is, she does not receive crappy service in her favorite restaurant. You do not want to be on the receiving end of her ire in that circumstance.
My Poodle...who I love very much.

Pop Quiz

2010-06-15T07:25:00.000-07:00

The Child is on summer break (at least until summer school starts), The Spouse is taking the week off and MAB is on vacation.

What is wrong with this picture?

Things in Washington DC That Made Me Cry

2010-06-07T07:32:00.001-07:00

This is me, striding the Halls of Power. We had a meeting with an aide in Senator Murray's office. You have to go through security (of course) to get into any of the senate office buildings but once in you can walk through the halls, passing the large and impressive offices of the senators. There was something magnificent about that.

When we had our meeting in Senator Murray's office we acted very professionally and cool. Until the aide offered us tickets to the galleries for the House and Senate, giving us passage into the places where laws are passed. I can't tell you why, but I lost it.

They were debating amendments to the Wall Street reform bill when we were there. Only 2 senators were on the floor at the time but it was quite something to look down on all those desks (which we weren't allowed to photograph), desks that are as old as the Capitol itself. And it was restorative to listen to the remarks of the senators, who were thoughtful, well-spoken and not remotely hysterical. It was a reminder that the sound bites we get may be full of clamouring partisanship but the real work is conducted without fisticuffs.

The trolley was moving quickly through Arlington so it was hard to get a good shot. But that was appropriate because I was blubbering like a baby.

Julia's pots and pans. 'Nuff said.

No photography was allowed in the exhibit where the Smithsonian displays the flag that flew over Fort McKinley...the flag that inspired the "Star Spangled Banner". So this artwork will have to fill in. But seeing that tattered old mess with it's smattering of hand-sewn stars blew my mind.

The lunch counter from Gainsborough, North Carolina; site of one of the sit-ins from the Civil Rights movement.
These beautiful young people did a 20 minute program about the importance of song in the Civil Rights movement. It was incredibly moving and by the time they wrapped up I was once again embarrassing MAB with my weeping.

This is me (with -from the top- Rachael, Mary and Lisa) on the staircase at Gadsby's Pub, the oldest tavern in Alexandria. All the big names from the birth of our nation used to get their drink on here. (We were there for the final feast of the conference). These stairs lead to the room where Thomas Jefferson held his inaugural dinner and dance. Thomas Freaking Jefferson walked on these stairs, people. Thomas Jefferson!

Betcha Thought I Had Run Away from Home, Huh?

2010-06-07T07:19:00.000-07:00

I learned a few things in May. One of them was that while traveling can be veryvery fun and veryvery educational and veryvery stimulating, it also plays hell with your real life. A week in DC, 5 very busy days at home and then a long weekend in Omaha just threw me right off course. It's simply amazing how well established habits can be blown all the bits by that much disruption, however pleasant, to the regular course of things.

I'm trying to get back on track. I just have to find the track.

Emomaha

2010-05-17T06:48:00.000-07:00

There are still things to say about Washington D.C., like about all the hobnobbing with Senators and watching democracy in action and almost-but-not-quite seeing POTUS and about the times I cried because something moved me so much.

But then I went to Omaha.

Considering how little I enjoy flying, I've done quite a lot of it lately. Plus, if you fly to Omaha on Frontier Airlines there is a good chance that at some point you're going to get on a plane that is so small they can't hook up one of those accordion tunnel things to it so you have to cross the tarmac and climb the stairs into the plane. Or, my favorite, deplane down steps before crossing the tarmac to the terminal, which allows you to pretend that you are the President or royalty or whatever as you come down the stairs.

Although- travel tip here- I do not recommend flying if you have a head cold. Not that I would have done things any differently even had I known what was about to happen to me but it's still good advice. Because if you are in an airplane (especially a small one) and you are stuffed up from a cold you will probably, at some point, experience gut-wrenching, eye-popping, little-freaky-animals-with-talons-searing pain throughout your head and you will think that you are having an aneurysm and while one part of you fights to keep from screaming like a little girl the other part of you will regret all the Bret Michaels jokes you ever told and then the plane will finally land and the pain will subside but you'll be nearly deaf for the rest of the day.

So instead of looking all pretty and happy and let's-celebrate-your-40th-Poodle giddy when JP picked me up I was red of face, teary eyed and kept saying, "Huh?"

Fortunately, after a very nice Italian dinner (which he allowed me to buy for him because he always pays for everything when I'm in town which is nice but come on now, it was his birthday) and some advice from a diver about how to clear your ears and after we watched "The Office" and after he made me tea and built me a tent and set up the humidifier and I slept the sleep of the righteous, I woke up the next morning with my hearing restored and ready to party.

Tuesday in DC

2010-05-12T07:07:00.000-07:00

Tuesday was spent in meetings, being tortured on chairs left over from the Spanish Inquisition. But all that was redeemed when evening came and I got to finally meet my long-lost cousin, Doralong!

We had dinner at the Ritz Carlton, which was fantastic (fried goat cheese & beets, among other things....yum).

But even better was sitting across the table from someone who, once again, proved to be exactly as warm, witty and fun as her blog had led me to believe. It was just delightful.

It was also too short as I had to go back to the hotel for a Monuments by Night tour. I was looking forward to that because, let's face it, Washington D.C. is kinda all about the monuments. And it was beautiful.

The Capitol and "the monument" at dusk.The Iwo Jima sculpture is way, way bigger than I had thought. Semper fi!

I just brought the little family point-and-shoot camera so it didn't do super well with the night photography but I like this shot anyway.

The monument to FDR is quite something....a long walk leading up to a plaza composed of walls (with some of his words carved on them), fountains and wonderful statues of both FDR

and Eleanor.

When we first got to the Viet Nam wall I was disappointed. By then it was very late and dark and the black of the wall just slide into the darkness. But then we started to walk along it and the power of that monument was just as strong as if we were seeing it by day.

It is quite something...all those names. That's probably the eternal strength of this particular design. A statue can't convey the cost of war the way thousands of names can.

The Lincoln Memorial is like a church. Not just because it is so large but because it is so quite. People stand there, hushed, looking up at the Great Emancipator (who would be 27 feet tall if he stood up (freaky), and reflecting on, well, I guess on what greatness looks like.

Beginning Snapshots

2010-05-11T06:11:00.000-07:00

Washington DC was superfantastic. Just wanted to say that. It was very humid the first couple of days, then it rained, then it was clear and warm. The hotel was nice, the conference was enlightening and the food was yummers. (Really, is there anything better than a hotel buffet breakfast? I'm serious).

Sunday
Took the (very efficient) Metro out to Maryland where I was met by Ann, who took me to her house and fed me rhubarb pie.

We went to her church, where I met the effervescent and just-like-you-imagine-her

Mom. There was a lot of hugging.

Then it was off to Baltimore with Ann and her kids (plus a boyfriend) to roam the streets and snap pictures of really old stuff. We had tapas for lunch. Fan.tast.ic.

Evening cocktail party and a session with Dr. Donald Davis, a fantastic storyteller.

Monday
Another session with Dr. Davis and then an afternoon scavanger hunt. Our team was at the Capitol. Must say, the moment the dome came into sight I got all varklempt. There is something very majestic about it...something that says, "Hey, I was here when you were fighting about slavery, I was here when you were aguing about civil rights and I'm still here. Deal with it."

Then we had a meeting with one of Senator Murray's aides. It was all very professional and then she invited us to the constituent coffee with the Senator and gave us gallery passes for the House and Senate. And I cried.

Had dinner at the Monocle, where everybody who is anybody dines (except we didn't see anybody) and did some shoppng at Union Square. I bought some wonderful yellow heels.

More later.

2010-04-30T07:03:00.000-07:00

First off, I neglected to blog the finale of "Project Runway". Seth Aaron, deservedly, won. Emilio, who demonstrated his snarky, I'm-better-that-everyone self-absorption lost. And was a real baby about it. When you see his uninspired sportswear in Target walk on over to the Jessica Simpson department.

Speaking of Jessica Simpson, she "designed" the new roll-y suitcase I bought for my trips. It's really cool. I didn't know it was Jessica Simpson until after I'd bought it. So I'm ok with it. Plus, it's commodious.

I leave for DC tomorrow morning and I have 412 things to do today. Including dying my hair, which I'll have to do at work. (Which will be fine because I dyed MAB's hair at work the other day. Priorities). And I have to get a mani and a pedi and buy some insoles for my black flats and I need to pack. It's really too bad I have to work today. Good news on that front, I'm this close to finishing up the things I need to finish up before being away from the office for a week. And that includes having finally written an outline for the presentation I'm giving on Tuesday. Now I just need to design a useful and alluring hand-out. (I totally decided against a Powerpoint presentation. So last decade).

86 that about the hair. I'm doing it now.

I will be able to blog, I expect, from DC but the photologue may have to wait. But there will be lots of pictures. Me on Lincoln's lap, me in Julia's kitchen, me with blog buddies, like that. I can't wait.

Everyone be good while I'm gone. Do your homework and eat an apple every day.

Love.

And Away We Go

2010-04-26T21:39:00.000-07:00

In less than a week I will be in Washington D.C.

I have never been to our nation's capital and I'm demmed excited. You might not know this about me, but I'm one whimpy arsed patriot. I never get all the way through the National Anthem at a ballgame because I start cryin' like a wee bairn. So the thought of being in D.C., only blocks from the Capitol, wandering around a place rife with history and meaning, well, it gets Mama just a little bit varklempt.

But that's not all.

Sure. It's just freakin' swell that I get to go to a conference with my peers to exchange information and knowledge and all that hooha. It's dandy that I get to spend time touring the monuments and sites of DC, reveling in all that is gloriously Americana.

But it turns out, I got peeps. Peeps in da 'hood. So, for example, on Sunday I'm hooking up with Anne to go to church and maybe if I'm lucky Mom will be there, too. Then later in the week I'm having dinner with my darling-cousin-who-I've-never-met-but-who-I'm-purty-sure-I'm-related-to Doralong. And if all that tweren't enough, I'm also hooking up with my college room-mate, Shelley, who I last saw before I met The Spouse. (She's an opera singer and her husband conducts the Navy band or some such thing).

Now all I have to do is:

get everything on my desk at work under control so that I can

prepare the FREAKIN' notes for the discussion I'm leading on website development and then

figure out what to wear on the day that requires me to participate in a scavenger hunt at the Smithsonian before attending a meeting in a Senator's office with no time between events to go to the hotel and change

which will happen around the same time I buy a bustier to fit under the superfantastic dress I'm wearing to the fancy arsed dinner the last night of the conference (in a joint that used to host the likes of, uh, George Washington and Thomas "Freakin'"Jefferson).

I do have a new superfantastic bit of luggage on wheels that doesn't remotely look like all the other (black) bags that will be on the carousel at baggage claim. (And don't even start. Mommy has to check her bag. WAY too many costume changes in one week for a carry-on). I'm going to start packing it tomorrow.

What? Me Worry?

2010-04-20T06:55:00.000-07:00

I've been having a recurring dream wherein I am somewhere important, expected to provide information to a person or group and have nothing to share.

This couldn't possibly have anything to do with the presentation on website development and content that I'm supposed to deliver in 2 weeks at the conference in DC that is as yet unwritten and sans materials.

The subconscious is a mysterious beast.

On the Road Again

2010-04-18T08:24:00.000-07:00

With $9,000 and 4 months, our designers return home to create their collections for Bryant Park. But, as Heidi reminds us, Mila and Jay are still competing for the Top 3. They will each be showing the PR judges 3 looks that will make or break them. The Gunn joins her on the runway to tell the designers how "extraordinarily exceptionally proud" he is of them. Then he and Heidi do a little hip bump. And Emilio is smug.

(Every time he comes on now in that little interview-y thing I just clap my little hands over my little pink ears and sing "la lalalalalala" because otherwise bile rises in my throat and I want to smash things).

ROAD TRIP!
The Gunn's first stop is to visit Seth Aaron in the really not so fabulous town of Vancouver, Washington. But The Neighbor and I think it is cool that there is a finalist from the NW who isn't from Portland or Seattle.

Now, Seth Aaron has been very clear that he does not merely wish to win. He wants to "stomp" the competition. To that end, he is employing not only his considerable design skills but sheer volume. Dude has made something like 412 looks by the time Tim shows up at his door. But alas and alack, Tim is of the mind that there are no surprises in the collection and that to win Seth Aaron must "reach". While Seth Aaron tries not to cry The Gunn says, "Reconceptualize the whole thing and find another level of you". He also assures Seth Aaron that he wouldn't push him like this if he didn't think he was capable of more. (That is exactly what the guidance counselor said to The Child in a meeting this morning!)

Heartwarming family moments: playing Pictionary with the Seth Aaron brood and the delighted exclamation "Papa Gunn is on the tramp!" (A trampoline, not a loose woman. Honestly. Get your mind out the gutter). SA was pleased that Tim played with his kids.

Next we're off to the South Bronx to hook up with Emilio. Tim meets Emilio's brothers, who say they are proud of him; pride apparently being genetic with this family. Then we get the rough-childhood-growing-up-poor-in-the-South-Bronx tale which would be more compelling if we cared.

Emilio's BP collection is full of color and he is, uh, proud of that.

Tim reminds him that how the PR judges experience the show is what will determine who wins. He gives Emilio some other advice...since that is his job. Like telling him that the collection looks "old" (as in matronly) and that there is a lack of sophistication. (We agree, and not just because we hate Emilio). But you know what Emilio does? 'Course you do. He snarks to the camera: "I'm designing for women and as far as I know Tim Gunn doesn't wear women's clothing". He goes on to say that since it isn't going to have Tim Gunn's name on the label he feels completely at ease dismissing any of his input. What a giant __________(insert word/words Mommy doesn't use on her blog here).

Heartwarming family moments: none.

Mila, who owns, The Neighbor notes, a color blocked dog, is veryvery happy to see Tim. Her collection is largely black and white with spots of color "but it's you" notes The Gunn. Unfortunately, he also finds the overall looks to be "conservative and matronly" (to which Mila responds to camera "Dude, what??"). TG effused, "Look how chic and fabulous you are....these clothes need to exude that!" While she is somewhat confused by this assessment she assures us that she has no intention of losing to "that little [bleeped out] Jay" so she's gonna dig deep.

Heartwarming family moments: chatting with supportive parents (who note she has always been creative and always worn black) and her supportive boyfriend who we are pretty sure is gay.

As Tim arrives at Jay's door we realize that 3 of the 4 designers are from the West Coast and we think that is very cool.

Jay says he likes to "combine soft and hard" (that's what she said) and Tim tells him with no hesitation that he thinks Jay is getting gimick-y and uses the dreaded phrase "student work". But Jay isn't worried about Mila. He's quite sure he can beat her so he's really focusing on beating Seth Aaron and Emilio. Tim grants him this but suggests that his collection is a little "koo koo". "Koo Koo Chanel," retorts Jay.

Heartwarming family moments: Tim being fed to death by Filipinos and lots of bawling about how much Jay wants this.

Back to New York
The producers, predictable and mean, stick Jay and Mila in the same apartment. At first you could cut the tension with many, many very sharp knives. And some lasers. But Jay and Mila end up having a moment and sort out a thing or two and by the time Tim gathers everyone for champang-ya, they don't hate each other any more. (Someone slip some of whatever they were taking into Mitch McConnell's well, wouldja?)

Next morning the designers arrive in the much larger and more fantastic pre-runway-show workroom but Mila and Jay have to share their workspace. "Good thing we're talking now," says Mila. "Right?" says Jay.

While Seth Aaron and Emilio get to putter with their collections, Mila and Jay have 3 hours to fit their models and get them to hair and makeup. Mila sees how much more color Jay is using and starts to panic. She decides to make sure there is plenty of color in the models' makeup. And there I was, thinking what a fine opportunity this would be to use the Bluefly accessory wall thoughtfully.

Jay cries again. So does Mila.

The Runway
Heidi has, of course, popped her Seal Pup and is all svelte again.

Mila shows first. Here's what we say: "Love that effing coat!" "Love! (stripped jacket is a little buzzy on TV but there it is). "Like!" Then Jay shows. Here's what we say: "Again with the ruffle booboo thing at the hip!" "Star Trek". "Star Trek: the Next Generation".

Mila's inspiration was "the shadow". Heidi says the looks are "different but cohesive", Nina is not surprised by the black and white but notes "it's a narrow palette". Mila assures her there is plenty of color in the entire collection (and if that's so she probably should have pulled in one of those ensembles, don'tcha think?) They all rave about her accessories but are concerned that the overall look might be too retro.

Jay is praised by Heidi for "pumping up the volume" and Kors loves all the details, like the gaitors, which we actually don't enjoy much at all but whatever. Nina admires the "excellent tailoring" but doesn't see any "stand outs". "Edit down," she warns. Heidi, shockingly, likes the purple dress with the hip widening ruffle booboo thing but isn't sure it fits with the rest of the collection. (And it doesn't because if you wore it, you would actually wear it on earth).

Kors admires that the looks aren't the least bit retro.

As we go into the final decision, Heidi is going with Mila, Kors with Jay and Nina is "on the fence". We are so being played. I vote for Mila, The Neighb for Jay (although in a move that may look like we are covering our arses, we both think there's a possibility that they will both show).

Heidi tells Mila that her collection is "impeccable and distinct" but could be "one note and too retro". Jay's looks are described as "intriguing and fashion forward" but criticized for being "over designed".

So the question for the judges is who do they want to see more of and as I cross my fingers and pray "notJaynotJaynotJay" Heidi announces "Mila, you're in!" YES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Jay is numb and shocked. Someone (Emilio?) says, "Don't cry, puppy". Or maybe that was The Neighbor. Anyway, that's exactly the sort of look I hope to see on Emilio's face next week when either Seth Aaron or Mila win. Meanwhile, Tim told Jay that his is "extraordinarily" proud of him and that he has nothing to regret. And I would note, he also has Anthony.

Next week: the Finale!

You Can't Come In

2010-04-12T07:25:00.000-07:00

Research says that teenagers' brains are not yet fully formed. Something to do with synapses from the frontal lobe not yet connected to the rest of the brain or something. It's why they don't consider consequences of their actions and live strictly in the present and very me-centered moment. Anyone who has raised a teenager can affirm the veracity of this.

Teenagers also have a real problem hanging onto important stuff. Like cell phones. And keys. The Child is forever misplacing her house key. This morning I told her I'd give her a ride to the bus stop (that was my first mistake). She came out and asked if she could borrow my house key. "Did you lose it?" I naturally asked. "No!" she emphatically exclaimed. "It's just in some pants or something". Right. "Can I borrow yours?" Only one cup of coffee into the morning I agreed, with a stern "Don't lose it!"

You've had enough coffee by now so I presume you can figure out where this is going. I returned from dropping her off, only to have to race back down to the bus stop, fervently praying that the bus hadn't come yet. I retrieved the key, so I could get into the house, and now either have to find hers or get one made and put it in a secret location so she can get her sorry arse into the house later today. Sheesh.

Item to add to the Bill Invoice o' Child Raising: $412 for assorted house keys.

Down to the (High) Wire

2010-04-09T06:58:00.000-07:00

It's been a while, chickens, so let's recap what would have been recapped had I been recapping: Anthony was out, then Maya left on her own, so Anthony came back and then Anthony won. And so did Emilio. (Emilio designed a dress for Heidi and guest judge Jessica Alba wants to wear Anthony's gown). Oh, and Jonathan with his TinTin hair is out.

There are 5 designers left and this is the final challenge. Tonight we will know who is showing at Fashion Week. Heidi is sending the designers to a tent "and not a Bryant Park tent". As this can only mean one thing, MAB and I react badly. She hates circuses because of what they do to the animals and I'm a'feared of clowns.

Sure enough, they go to the Ringling Brothers circus for a private show. Ringmaster Tim Gunn tells them they are to make a runway look inspired by the circus, but cautions, "Not a costume....think fashion". Then they get a private circus show. Tim tells them they will have 30 minutes to sketch and 2 days to work. ("Two days means 2 looks," says MAB).

A lot of black and white stripped fabric is purchased at Mood. That seems weird.

Tim's Walkaround

"I'm here to walk around and engage with you," says The Gunn. He's delightful.

Seth Aaron says he was inspired by the ringmaster and jugglers. He describes his vision and ends with a gleeful "I'm makin' a top hat!" Tim scrunches his face and asks, "How do you see styling this for the runway?" "No costume," he warns.

Emilio says he's making a "basically black and white look". Says The Gunn, "You went to the circus...where's the color?" Then Emilio proceeds to argue with The Gunn. We hate that. ("Is he lisping more as each week goes by?" asks MAB).

Anthony is feeling left out because he's the only designers working with color. Tim tells him that is great but in the face of Anthony's uncertainty The Gunn tells him, "Let your viscera rule...if you feel like you're forcing things then they are probably contrivances and it's not right". Anthony says he needs a dictionary. MAB wants one, too.

The sketch for Mila's design was lovely but she is struggling a bit. Tim rejects one fabric decision and guides her in a better direction. She is grateful.

Jay is doing exaggerated pants (uh oh, here we go again with the whole making-women-wider-in-places-where-they-don't-need-width thing). MAB notes that the jacket he's making looks like something Michael Jackson would wear.

Anthony says he is a prisoner in his own mind. That would be a scary place to be.

It's day 2 and we know there's going to be a second look. The Neighbor says, in a dead on Tim Gunn voice, "You must construct the same garment exactly 1/10th the size".

But, it turns out, we were wrong. There are no surprises.

Anthony says that words can not express what his dress means to him. Looks like he needs a dictionary AND a thesaurus.

The other designers call the MJ thing on Jay's jacket, which he then modifies. Seth Aaron is nervous for the first time in the competition and Emilio, well, Emilio continues to be full of himself and his "whimsy and sexiness" and declares that he wants the judges to say his dress is the best design of the season. Puke.

The Runway
Judges are Kors (MAB chimes in unison with him when he says, "Hi guys"), Nina and Cynthia Rawley (who is wearing a really dreadful shiny pink eeewww of a dress).

All three of us are in despair over the runway show:

Jay's look is awful, even with the barely toned down MJ jacket.
Mila's is an OMG and not in a good way....looks like a witch costume.
Anthony's dress is boring. The Neighbor says she likes it but MAB says it looks cheap.
Emilio's gown has too much going on in it and Seth Aaron has created a walking caution sign.

But once again, there's a reason we aren't sitting in the judges chairs.

Heidi likes Seth Aaron's look and Nina likes the "sense of drama and fantasy" although she does find it a tad costume-y. Cynthia thinks it is "interesting" and while Kors says the pants have "crazy crotch" he deems the jacket "strong".

Nina tells Anthony that from the waist down his gown is "a snooze". Cynthia lectures him about "knowing your fabric" (which is kinda rich given what she's wearing) and Kors actually goes up and feels the fabric and recoils with an "eeewww...it's polyester". Then he disses the whole thing with a "it looks like a big, blue condom".

Heidi asks Jay to remove the jacket from his ensemble and says that the top and pants are "nice pieces". Nina is more enthusiastic, calling the pants "fantastic".

Nina says she is "not crazy" about Mila's look and Cynthia suggests that the collar could have been toned down and perhaps something on the gown could have been not shiny.

Then it is Emilio's turn and I struggle to keep down my dinner. "Stunning", "genius", "favorite garment of the season", "appealing". Oh my giddy aunt.

Because it is the last challenge, each designer must say why he or she deserves to go to Fashion Week AND who they think should go with them. Seth Aaron picks Emilio and Jay, Jay picks Seth Aaron and then gets all emotional and says the other person he really wants to "share the experience with" is Anthony. Oh, reeeeallly? Mila picks Seth Aaron and Emilio, Emilio picks Seth Aaron and Mila and then Anthony choses Emilio and uses the tearful "share the experience" line relative to Jay. Lovers!

MAB picks Emilio and Seth Aaron, hesitates and says that her gut tells her to pick Jay. The Neighb and I are both in agreement about Emilio and SA and we also pick Mila for the third.

The judges tell Emilio that his look was the unanimous favorite and he's going to the Park. He says he is humbled and then treats us to a deluge of reasons why he rocks. I think he needs to borrow Anthony's dictionary.

Seth Aaron is praised for having "tailoring that is consistently fantastic" so he too is goin' to the Park. Then he and Emilio wrestle with joy.

Anthony is told that he has grown as a designer but still needs to mature. He'sauf.

Mila is praised for having pushed herself throughout the competitions but told that she fell short on this challenge and Jay is poo pooed for having played it safe. The dum dum music starts and then, lo and behold, they are both in. It's a design off between the two people who hate each other! They will both be designing a collection but only one will show at Fashion Week.

Backstage Tim tells Anthony he can't feel sorry for him: "cover of Maria Claire, Jessica Alba..." He had some definite high points throughout (plus, he found Jay). With a little joke about having "done this before" he sends Anthony to the work room. The previews for next week show lots of Tim critiquing looks and the stricken faces of designers. Except for Emilio. Who argues with Tim.

Eggs and Alleluias

2010-04-03T19:22:00.000-07:00

Soon, very soon, I will grab the alb I purchased last year (so as to never, ever, ever again in my life have to enter into the malstrom that is the sacristy before a big liturgy) and prepare to assist at and participate in the Easter Vigil.

I love the Easter Vigil. Some people hate it because it is the longest liturgy of the year. It begins when the sun goes down...with the lighting of the sacred fire...and ends when it ends. Average? 3.5 hours. But it's gone longer...depends on how many people are being baptised.

But part of what I love about it is that it is so essentially Easter and Christian. Easter Sunday is swell but church always feels a little off. It's crowded and crazy and full of C&E Christians. And I don't begrudge them because I used to be one. But I can be far more prayerful at the Easter Vigil and, as an added bonus, then I have all Easter Sunday to prepare dinner and nap and what-have-you.

This Easter Sunday will be very special because Suzanne asked if we'd take god-daughter Kiki for the day. Suzanne is still recovering from multiple surgeries and other nonsense related to her cancer (which, btw, sucks) and, as she put it, "I want her to have a fun day but I'm just not up to making it happen". Well, that's what god-moms are for, say I. So there will be an Easter egg hunt and egg dying and lots of other general spoiling. The Child is very excited (because we weren't going to have an egg hunt this year and even though she was 16 she was disappointed so, yay, she still gets one). She is very sensible of her role as "big sister" in the Kikster's life. And I just realized that now that Kiki is in our life, Easter egg hunts will, in fact, continue in our home for the foreseeable future. So there you go.

Anybunny, here is wishing all my Blogtopian friends a very blessed Easter (if you swing that way) and a very nice Sunday to those who don't.

My Fondest Wish is To Die in My Sleep so If the Apocolypse is Coming Don't Wake Me or The Movie That Wouldn't End

2010-04-01T06:10:00.000-07:00

(Author's Note: It would be tempting to assume the following review is an attempt at April Foolery. That would be a mistake. I mean every bloody word).

You know how it is. Someone plugs in a movie and you watch it because the film was chosen by the same person who made your dinner so you feel an obligation to stick around, plus there's nothing on television. "2012" was The Spouse's movie pick last night.

Here's what was good about the movie:

1) John Cusack. Because I love him and he looks dandy in a suit, even when it is covered in dust and debris. Plus he has that wry way with him that plays very nicely as an ordinary guy (author of one book who is driving limo for a living while trying to be a decent father to his children with the lovely Amanda Peet who has left him for reasons that are frankly not very clear because I'd rather be married to John Cusack than the guy who played Amanda Peet's new squeeze). And he can deliver a joke in a deadpan way, which is entirely appropriate in a story where humor would be necessary but where "ha ha, you crack me up" jokes would be completely inappropriate.

b) CGI. This is a movie that was just waiting for technology to catch up. And I have to think that coming up with the wave upon wave upon (sometimes literal) wave of disaster and then creating it on the computer was some of the most fun the film-maker ever had. Never have I witnessed so much gleeful destruction. If you like watching stuff blow up or just enjoy a good effect, this is the movie for you.

Here's what is wrong with this movie: everything else.

Cheap shot, you say? Too easy? 'K - allow me to enumerate the ways in which this movie is horrible:

1) There are entirely too many characters and they continue to be introduced for hours, effectively rendering it impossible to give any of the characters...even the leads...an arc. With a cast that large there is nothing for it but to keep everything black and white. There are good guys and bad guys and that's the way it stays. And without character arc there isn't much upon which to hang an actual story. Which is why there isn't really a story here except that the world is going to come to an end. Which you pretty much knew from the beginning.

2) What story there is and the meager attempts at plotlines are completely unbelievable. I like a good adventure movie as much as the next girl and am quite adept at the art of suspending disbelief but pul.eeze. "Independence Day" is a more believable story. "Men in Black" is more believable. Freakin' "Wizard of Oz" is more believable than this damn movie. And I don't know what is worse, the smattering of unlikely sub-plots or the very freshman-film-studies-course attempts to tie them all together.

c) If you were driving in a car and the earth's crust began to shift and everything (and I do mean everything) was breaking apart and falling down I don't care how good a driver you are - no way you are successfully navigating through a crumbling neighborhood, a crashing freeway AND falling buildings without, uh, dying.

4) No one ever, ever, ever needs to see Woody Harrelson's bum crack. No one. Ever.

5) There's no way one guy with his family, which includes 2 kids, is successfully going to out run that many:

ash clouds
newly forming canyons
disintegrating runways
molten lave smackdown thingys
tsunamis
crumbling, crashing bits
flocks of freaked out birds

without major emotional breakdowns and/or, uh, dying.

I mean come on now. If that were happening to my family The Spouse would be screaming at me like it was somehow my fault that the world was ending and we'd both be screaming at The Child to "GET IN THE CAR" and she'd be plugged into her computer and all "In a sec" and then the house would crush her.

6) I didn't really get the Tibet thing although it did remind me of the season of "Battlestar Galactica" when the humans colonized that planet that wasn't earth but (thanks to Baltar's cowardice) the Cylon's took over and the humans were all subjugated and Lee and Kara almost got together but then she went off and married Sam who we later learn is a Cylon and Kara is, turns out, an angel. And THAT was more believable than this movie.

7) The ark thing was a) predictable and 2) more convincing in "Sky Captain and the World of Tomorrow".

8) No one has cell coverage that good or batteries that last that long. Please.

412) There were efforts to address themes: the power of love, family, reconciliation, what makes a hero, the indomitable human spirit, what is required to recreate civilization (and who gets to decide who lives and dies to make that happen). But none of these notions were seriously developed. There was a pallid attempt to create tension with devices like conspiracy theory and political power grabbing but all this just hung out there on the surface, along with all the stereotypical characters who (as I mentioned previously) do not develop in any meaningful way. Each "moment" designed to offer anything in the way of profundity comes off only as a filmic sound bite. Because the point of this movie wasn't to tell a story. It exists only to entertain those who enjoy watching stuff blow up and fall apart.

And, also, this movie never frakking ends.

I've often worried that at the end of my life God will say to me, "Dude, you spent waaay too much time on like, "The Sims" when you could have been doing my work". And you know what I'll say - as CGI images of the destruction of the Sistine chapel hurl through my brain?

"Forgive me, Lord, for squandering the time you granted me but please, give me credit for saving even one person from seeing "2012". And you know what God will say? "Fair point, that," and into heaven I will go.

To sum up: "2012". Seriously. Don't.

The Czarina gives this movie 3/4 of a Koihead. Because the effects are awesome. Andbecause John Cusack is my boyfriend.

A Pie For Nicole

2010-03-31T22:26:00.000-07:00

And I can't really describe to you how it pains me to give her only a virtual pie because:

A) the last time I saw her was a couple of years ago in Chicago even though before that I hadn't seen her for

2) at least 10 years when we were in France for her wedding and

3) she's one of my dearest friends even though she lives so damn far away and

4) I love her very much and would really prefer to give her a pie in person, for real.

But that said, she correctly named the movie ("My Best Friend's Wedding") and the actress (Cameron Diaz) which I quoted in italicized form in this morning's post and therefore she wins this virtual pie.Love you, Nic.

Up and At 'Em

2010-03-31T05:48:00.000-07:00

Our family has fallen into some weird space-time mashup that has rendered mornings in this house completely topsy-turvy. It's a little too easy to blame it on DST but that's part of it. And also the fact that for whatever unholy reason, The Child's school starts earlier in the last quarter of the year.

Here's what used to happen:

1) The Spouse's alarm would go off and he would listen for a few moments to the dulcet tones of Steve Inskeep (hubba hubba) and Renee Montagne.
2) Spouse would get up, make coffee, feed the pets, shower and get ready for his day.
3) He'd kiss me goodbye.

I regarded his getting up as my own snooze alarm and the kiss as the final beep. I would rise and shine and give God the glory, glory. The animals would usually get up with me but other than their kerfuffling, I would have a quiet hour for coffee, browsing headlines, blogging etc. The Child (who completely ignores her alarm at any and all costs) would be roused at the quite decent hour of 7am, we'd get ready for the day and I'd drop her at the bus stop on my way to work.

(Please note: following Christmas there was some amendment to this schedule relative to play time on the Wii Fit but in all other respects the morning was unchanged).

But now it's all wrong.

The Spouse claims to be getting up the same time as always but I don't believe it. He is leaving much later than he used to. ("No, I'm not," he'll say. "Yes, yes you are", I'll say. "Your not the boss of me!" he'll shout. "Yes, yes I are", I'll say. Then I'll giggle because I'm not and then he will snort because he can't stay mad at me when I'm so adorable).

Add to this that The Child must be awoken much earlier because, among other things, she has to get herself to the bus stop since it comes so much earlier and I can't drop her. Oh, and I completely forgot to mention that I'm currently Driving Miss Neighbor to work and back and such because she had foot surgery and can't walk on her foot forever. (The timing of this is really good because my car has officially turned into a POS and the less I have to drive it the less my adrenal system has to constantly switch into high gear because of the tendency of the car to now stall out randomly but quite completely when at a full stop).

After a couple of weeks of this madness, of feeling squeezed by time, I made a command decision that changed my life (if you can name the movie from whence that(italicized) line came I will give you a pie. It will be a virtual pie but still. If you name the actress who says the line I will put virtual whipped cream on your virtual pie).

I'm getting up earlier. At 5am. Which is, admittedly, a time that not too many years ago was so early it would literally make me nauseous. But staying up after everyone went to bed doesn't work, for all sorts of reasons, not the least of which that a late night house feels different than an early morning house. An early morning house has promise and bird song and a kind of quiet that isn't present late at night. A late night house is creaking and settling, animals are still stirring because you are and there's still traffic outside and it just doesn't feel the same so there.

I'm one day in to this 'getting up before everyone else thing.

We'll see how this goes.

One of Those Days

2010-03-25T06:30:00.001-07:00

The manager from one of the other houses is visiting us for a few days. MAB is her mentor so she came to see how we do things. It's been fun. And kind of awesome because until we started sharing all the stuff we do I'd forgotten how much we have created since opening.

But yesterday, oy. MAB had already told me she and Rachael were going to come in late. I made some coffee and settled in to get some paperwork done (because when you're showing someone how you do things you're not really actually doing things). Then MAB called to tell me they are a few train stations away but she's been thinking. (This elicited an unspoken "Uh oh"). She asks how many check-ins we have. (Only 2 and one is a returning guest). Then she says,

"I have that big project to get done but it's such a nice day"...I think you should take Rachael down to the Market and show her around town".

Ever have one of those days? You have your plans and your to-do list and then your boss outta nowhere drops a whole other agenda on you? It was totally like that. Only not. Because my boss is composed of 100% pure unadulterated Awesome.

So that's what we did. Drove Rachael through Pioneer Square - the origins of the city- and took her to the Market, where we bought beautiful glass hearts, admired the many, many vivid bouquets of tulips and photographed the original Starbucks. Then the guys who fling the fish weren't flinging so I asked them to do it for my friend from a place where there is no fish and they set her up and flung fish over her head for her to videotape and one of the guys made the fish kiss her which made her scream like a little girl.

I took her up to Kerry Park to get the money shot of downtown and then up to Capitol Hill to see the old mansions and the cemetery where Bruce Lee is buried and for a Deluxe burger at Dick's Drive In. We drove past the spot where Kurt Kobain offed himself, cruised along the shore of Lake Washington and then went back to the office to share the lovely Red Anjou pear we'd bought at the Market.

Sometimes my job is soooooooo hard.

Something to Get Off My Chest

2010-03-24T06:33:00.000-07:00

There is a list bouncing around in my head. Items from that list wake me up at night. Sometimes, during the day, they make my stomach fluttery. Most of the items are small, very small. They fall under the "to do" category of life and if I would (if I could) take just a few minutes for myself I could probably dispatch most of them with a fair amount of ease. Others of the items have a little more heft and they have similar biological effects on me but they are harder to sort out, harder to dismiss. These range from figuring out who is sending me hate mail at work (a task in which I'm not alone because the police are helping) to ponder The Child's future.

OK, I already feel better having achieved one objective, which was telling you about the hate mail. It's part of the reason I haven't blogged lately (because some have theorized that it is someone who reads my blog...although for a couple of reasons I think that's a stretch. Although the hater does bear two similarities to the 2 (or is it 3) people who have hated on the blog over the years. Those characteristics are a) a deep and abiding love and loyalty to George W. Bush and 2) a complete inability to own their own stuff, thus sending the letters anonymously.

There have been 2 letters so far, purporting to be from former guests. But they are postmarked locally, they are always signed with different names - first name only - and there is no return address. So if MAB were inclined to contact the disgruntled individual and give them some sort of satisfaction she wouldn't be able to. Because they don't want to be contacted. Or known. They just want to, at best, be hurtful and at worst, I suppose, see me fired. Since MAB is not a knee jerk reactionary and since the accusations of the individual are so far-fetched and since there is a good body of evidence as to my ability to do my job well, this scenario is unlikely. Although stranger things have happened in the world.

But it does make you just wonder, doesn't it? About haters? About the depth of hatred that is resident is some of our citizenry these days? Because these aren't people who are unhappy with policy decisions. These are people who are angry at and bear significant ill will toward other people.

And yes. It is very fair to say that when I have formerly criticized the decisions of the previous administration, I was not always politic in doing so. I'm pretty sure I never said I hated GWB but I know I was less reserved relative to some of his cronies. And I must say, that between the rabid lunacies of certain FAUX News commentators, the unvarnished racism and loathing exhibited by the so call "Tea Party" movement and my own private brush up with conservative ideology run amok, I have done my share of soul searching. Because I do rather wish there were again such a thing as civil discourse in this country and I am sorry for the times when I contributed to the opposite.

On the other hand, what kind of person sends mean, anonymous letters to another person without giving her the opportunity for questioning or dialogue or even for apology or clarification? It's certainly not a person secure enough in her/his convictions to face me. And I think, though this may sound judgemental, he/she is not a very nice person. Hopefully the police will figure that out for me pretty soon.

It Takes Two, Baby

2010-03-19T08:05:00.000-07:00

As we begin tonight's episode, Amy feels lost and Mila similarly needs to find herself again. Maya is frustrated that she hasn't yet won a challenge. I feel that.

Heidi tells the designers that she wishes to put them in "A New York state of mind". Designing a concert look for Billy Joel? No, they meet with Tim (and makeup guy, Collier, who we will now promptly ignore) who tells them that the "City is the point of departure for your designs". They will be sent to 4 distinct NY neighborhoods and challenged to create looks inspired by the spirit, people and architecture of those 'hoods. Emilio, the snarky New Yorker, tells us he wants to win one for "his people" but when Tim reveals that they will be working in teams he prays to the little baby Jesus that he won't be paired with Mila. (What? Mila herself told us a few weeks ago that everyone loves her). Team captains are picked then the teams are formed. Anthony chooses Maya, Amy picks Jonathan. Emilio, very happily, selects Seth Aaron which leaves Jay no choice but to be paired with Mila. (They both say "Oh, s!*t"). No love lost there. They will have 30 minutes to explore and sketch.

Emilio and Seth Aaron go to Harlem, a neighborhood full of ""churches, soul food and chicken joints". It is also full of denim and the boys know that will be a signature for them. In Chinatown, Anthony and Maya are impressed by the structure, all the red and gold and the liveliness of the narrow streets. Anthony is freaked out by the ducks hanging in a restaurant window. (He later tells us, "We don't do that in Georgia,").

On the Upper East side, Amy and Jonathan note the "high end, luxury" feel of the place and remark that it is grey and static, with "almost no movement". Wrought iron designs inspire the evening look. Jay and Mila go to the East Village, which is "rock 'n roll" and "gritty". They are inspired by graffiti and the industrial feel. They both try to be professionals, given their deep and abiding loathing of each other, and Mila is frustrated that she can't read Jay's vision.

After a trip to Mood Tim tells them "The creme de la creme is here - make no assumptions that the team leader will go home".

Anthony grows tense about Maya's strength of character and commitment to her artistic vision. Emilio worries about controlling Seth Aaron, who rarely sketches and seems all over the map. Jay and Mila intently focus on not focusing on their mutual hatred and Jay is afraid that both he and Amy are so detail oriented and ambitious that they will fail to finish.

Tim's Walk Around
He likes what Emilio and Seth Aaron are doing but suggests to Maya and Anthony that one of their colors is weak and should be discarded. (They listen). Jay is working on a pant that has a jodphurs feel to it and Tim suggests they will have "Heidi and Nina saying, 'What woman wants more fullness there?'". Jay insists it won't be that bad. Mila is working on a dress and jacket. Tim asks if they've determined the neckline and silhouette of same and she says, with a cold look toward Jay, "We're still debating that". Tim sternly says, "Someone is going home".

"Don't look at me!" says Jay.
"I'm not looking at any of you," says Tim.
"That was abrupt," says The Neighbor.

Tim also cautions Jonathan and Amy about being at risk of "overdesigning"....a point they are all too concerned about themselves.

There are fittings, Emilio is getting entirely too much pleasure out of the Jay/Mila drama and we suddenly want them to win just to piss him off. Jonathan surveys the amount of work he and Amy have to do and declares their team "f*$#ed". (Jonathan, we note, is a drama queen. Every challenge ends up being called "the most horrendous experience of my life").

Tim returns before the runway to urge the designers to "style those looks so they are each "wow" moments and has to call Jonathan and Amy more than once to get them to put down their needles and come along.

Filling in for Kors this week is Francisco Costa from Calvin Klein. He joins Nina and guest judge, Molly Sims.

The Runway

Anthony's day look is very cute and Maya's gown has an amazing origami-like detail but we think it should have had more red.

Jay's tank top is, in his own words, "problematic" and the pants are just awful. Mila's evening look is very severe and, in our view, unattractive.

Amy made a pretty, flowing top in an unfortunate color and Jonathan's evening gown has some beautiful cutout work but hangs a little heavily at the skirt.

Emilio & Seth Aaron present a very cute denim day look, very Flygirl, and a zippered gown which does not evoke, to me anyway, the Cotton Club vibe that inspired it. Plus it is entirely too stiff.

The Judging

Heidi is in love with both Emilio and Seth Aaron's pieces. Francisco says that he first questioned the gown, thinking it could be sexier. Nina said Emilio was very smart to use prints and vivid accessories to lighten the looks but thinks the looks could have benefitted from a little less detail detail (read, zippers). Molly, on the other hand, loves the zippers.

Nina remarks that Anthony and Maya clearly had a really great collaboration. She likes the subtlety of their looks, how they clearly reference Chinatown without being too literal although she wishes there'd been "more color" in the detail of Maya's gown. Francisco adds that the looks are "very urban and well made".

Heidi asks Jonathan and Amy how they liked working together and Jonathan coos that he "loved working with Amy". That's the good news. Neither Nina or Molly found the day look to be "polished". Heidi flat out called it "an eyesore". Francisco notes that the evening look is "more successful" but Nina thinks that the side panels make it look "too heavy and cheap".

As for Jay and Mila, Nina loves the "fantastic styling" of the night-time look but is "very disappointed" with the day look. Heidi says, "Her boobs are floating around in there" and Nina sniffs that the pants "weren't successful". Molly says the "tank tanked" but Francisco likes the 'synergy". (Which must mean he likes boobs floating around in there). When given the opportunity to throw each other under the bus, Jay notes only that they "worked professionally" together. Very politic. But then, since they like Mila's look and not his, he pretty much had to do that.

Both The Neighbor and I, sadly, pick Amy to be out. I pick Maya for the win and The Neighbor thinks it will be Seth Aaron. But no, it is Emilio for the win. Oh. Wait. And Seth Aaron, too! Another PR first! The judges appreciated the maturity of the designs and how well the designers worked together. And little Amy is "auf" for a look that was "from cut to color a bad retro idea". Amy was accused of "getting lost in the concept without executing it well".

Backstage, as Jonathan weeps, Tim holds Amy by the shoulders, looks right into her little pierced face and "you are an incredibly talented designer".

And she is. She tells us that she wants to stay true to herself and not be afraid to try something. She took risks. Unfortunately, she took too many in too many consecutive episodes.

Pft

2010-03-16T10:14:00.000-07:00

PR Recap:

Jonathan won, Ben was aufed. Yeah, I don't really care today.

Last month we poured $1000 into my stoopid car in hopes of keeping it running for another year. It's going back to the mechanic tomorrow. I am extremely annoyed.

I need a serious attitude adjustment right now.

Maybe a bagel would help.

Help Wanted

2010-03-12T08:17:00.000-08:00

Alrighty, you creative, clever Blogtopians. I have a friend who wants to start a car wash/detailing business. It's something he really loves to do, he needs work and he's going to attempt the old "do what you love and the money will follow" trick. I told him I'd help him come up with a mailer and business cards but I'm really not much good at naming companies. Remember when I was starting my little organizing business and I needed a name? Yeah, it's like that. You guys came up with "Sorted Home" so I'm coming back to the well to see if any of you have any fantastic ideas. Get on it, people.

OH! And after we have a name, if one of you has some graphic ability and wants to put together a little something for us (JP) let me know.

PR recap later, for those who care. Like Sling. Sling Shot loves his PR.

A Soupcon of Joy

2010-03-11T08:17:00.000-08:00

I am still lumbering under the February fog that was so full of heavy things. I was chewing off God's ear this morning with my list of "please helps" and "please heals" and "please comforts" and it just wore me out.

So I need a list of happy things.

Mine includes The Child getting 96% on an English project (on which she worked very hard), the cuteness of The Dog when he cocks his head, the beautiful Boeuf Bourguignon The Spouse made for dinner on Oscar night (still thinking about it, it was that good. Man, that Julia Child knew what she was up to) and, as always, the glory that is my morning cup of coffee.

What do you have?

Traffic Circles are a Good Thing

2010-03-06T15:40:00.000-08:00

It is an absolutely glorious spring day outside. Alright, it isn't technically spring, but you wouldn't know it to be outside in the sunshine with the bulbs bursting all over, the scent of fragrant blooms everywhere and the very busy birds.

But I'm not out in it preparing garden beds or checking the progress of the lilac. I'm feeling kinda drained. So far this weekend has been a bit fraught.

First

Yesterday I had a little accident. I'd picked up The Child and her Best Friend from rehearsal and I was giving a ride to another kid. We were entering an uncontrolled intersection only blocks from his house when I saw another car barrelling down the street toward us. I slammed on my brakes and frankly, closed my eyes and braced for impact. Dude was totally going to T-bone us. But my car angels - who happen to be really, really good car angels - saw to it that the other driver just hit me on the driver's side fender. (They also shoved him up over the curb and blew out one of his tires).

After checking that everyone was OK, I got out to exchange information with the dude. Who was totally belligerent and accused me of running a stop sign. I pointed out that there was no stop sign, that he was doing 30 on a neighborhood street and that he, in fact, was supposed to yield to me. He got on the phone to the cops and I heard him saying that I'd run a stop sign. Dude hands me his phone with a gruff, "They want to talk to you" and the cop asked me what was going on. I told her my version, gave her out license plate numbers and such and handed the phone back.

While we waited for the cops to arrive I called The Spouse to tell him we'd be a little late. After a concerned, "Oh, no! Is everyone OK?" he asked "Whose fault was it?" Later that evening I pointed out to him that, really, one shouldn't go straight there in a situation like that. Sheesh.

Anyway, the cop shows up and dude is all, "she ran a stop sign" and the cop pointed out there was no stop sign. He got my story and dude's and then very matter-of-factly said, "She had the right of way. It's your fault". Then he asked if we'd like him to facilitate our exchange of information and while he was doing that dude suddenly became all, "I'm glad no one was hurt, I'm glad I didn't hit your door", like that. Yeah. I was frakking glad he hadn't hit my frakking door either. Idiot. And, btw, he never actually apologized for hitting my frakking car. Whatever. He got a ticket and a flat so there is justice in the world.

Now my car, which already had a dented driver's door from another little altercation several years ago, has been officially declared, by MAB, as a hooptie. Given that it is 10 years old and has a leaking manifold which causes it to frequently rumble like an active volcano, I think that's fair. Good thing a new car purchase has already been a topic of familial discussion.

Second
I got to visit with Suzanne, mother of my god-daughter Kiki. She is recovering from surgery, following her recent diagnosis of stage iv ovarian cancer. She'll start chemo next week. She's bearing up well, all things considered, and she gave me a little job to do for her which makes me feel like I'm being useful (besides praying, of course). And, of course, I got to spend time with the gorgeous Kiki, most-beautiful-god-baby-in-all-the-land. When I left I told her that I was going to give her a kiss and she lifted up her little blossom of a face and pursed her lips. Ad.or.a.ble.

But it is hard. I love this little family so much and the road ahead is going to be very difficult. I believe in miracles because they happen every day. But that doesn't negate the reality of just how hard the coming months are going to be. Thank heaven we only have to take one day at a time.

So now all that is said, I'm now going to motivate myself. I'm going to clear away piles of paper and sweep things and put clean sheets on the bed. I'm going to start pizza dough (mmmm...pizza) and I'm going to take my camera outside and make pictures of buds. Because buds are one of the most hopeful things I can think of. Then I think I'll make myself some sort of old fashioned sort of cocktail, like an Old Fashioned maybe, and read something uplifting. That sounds like a good idea, doesn't it?

Hammer and Tongs

2010-03-05T07:20:00.000-08:00

With only 10 designers left in the pool, it's time for the but-that's-not-fabric! challenge. Heidi scoots the designers off to meet Tim and "America's favorite designer", which I find to be a completely subjective statement given that I'm quite sure she means Michael Kors and not, say, oh, just about anyone else. And sure enough, there are Tim and the Orange One in the latter's Soho store. Kors lectures the designers on the importance of creating head-to-toe looks and the power of a single dazzling accessory, then sends them off to find the materials to create same in a hardware store. Whoot!

I personally cannot get enough of hardware stores. I think they are just superfantastic, especially the little, old ones that still hang on in these days of big box stores. Some of the designers appear to share my enthusiasm and find all sorts of fun bits on which to spend their $150. Except, uh oh, Emilio, who has a notion to do something with washers and cord and can't begin to get enough material for the money he has. What will he do? (I mean, besides spend all his time snarking about the other designers?)

There are lots of heavy metals in play, except for Jay, who is going to make pants out of a trash bag. We've seen trash bag clothes before. That's a could-go-either-way choice. Emilio lays out all his little washers and ponders them.

The work room sounds more like a smithy than a design space with most of the designers banging away on their metal sheets and screens and gutters and awnings. Jonathan makes a brilliant joke about the periodic table. He's kinda brainy. Emilio rearranges his washers.
And also, he gets bitchy when some of the other designers kid him about his situation. "He has no sense of humor," says The Neighbor. And he also gets to bitch about the noise of all the hammers. It makes it very hard for him to innovate with six washers and 2 feet of cord.

During his Walk About Tim tells Mila that her mod inspired (and color blocked) look is "very exciting". Jesse describes his look as "Elizabethan". "An Elizabethan mini?" Tim asks incredulously. He adds, "It looks like a costume for a school play...and not even a high school play, more like elementary school". Ouch. Tim immediately assesses that Emilio is in the weeds due to a lack of material. "Your innovation can be the first PR presentation of the bottomless dress," he says.

Anthony confesses that he is not "officially impressed" with his design and Tim concurs that it looks "tortured". On the other hand, he declares Jay's pants "spectacular" and marvels that he made trash bags look like leather. Tim is "intrigued" by Maya's ensemble, particularly her massive necklace of keys, which he calls "stunning". "If you can pull this off it will be phenomenal!"

During the fitting, Jay's model cannot get into the pants so he has to re-engineer them. Meanwhile, Emilio has finally figured out that he can make a bathing suit out of washers. The bottoms won't stay up. Gravity is a bitch. And could someone please speak to Jonathan about his
Tin Tin hair? Dippity Do is so last century. As we approach the runway show, Anthony comments that many of the looks (including his own) look tortured. But Emilio now tries to suggest that his pathetic hardware bikini is a "full on" look - as if there were intention, design and planning involved. This strains credulity.

We have 2 guest judges: the fabulous Isabel Toledo (who designed Michelle Obama's fantastic Inauguration Day ensemble) and jewelry designer Stephen Webster.

The Runway
Mila's look is very 60's mod and cute. Jesse's outfit is a mesh marshmallow. (Say that 3 times fast). We like Jonathan's look and Anthony's is no more than OK but Ben's is stiff and quite hideous. Emilio calls his look "strong" but I think it would work best on the girl serving drinks at a craps table in Vegas. Jay's look is terrific, Seth Aaron is lucky he has immunity, Amy did fantastic things with sandpaper and we absolutely love Maya's look.

The Judging
Nina tells Mila that her use of paint tray liners is "extraordinary" and Stephen calls it "wicked brilliant".

Nina asks Emilio why his model has no clothing, Kors dismisses it as "really cheesy" and Heidi says it looks "thrown on". I snort with derision when Emilio actually tries to justify his mess by saying that he "knew everyone else was going to make a dress" and wanted to do something different. Bull.

Kors tells Anthony he's created a "bad prom dress" and Nina dismisses it as "too boring".
Maya, however, is praised by Kors for truly creating a "head to toe look", Nina applauds her restraint and Heidi marvels, saying "you wouldn't think it came from a hardware store".

Jesse is bashed by Nina for a look that "feels like the Tin Man". Kors likes the accessory hair band but says the dress looks like a Hershey Kiss and Heidi says it looks like "a dirty vacuum bag".

She is much kinder to Jay, calling his ensemble "amazing" and Kors gushes "in a million years I wouldn't think this was plastic trash bags".

I pick Maya for the win and believe with all my heart that Emilio should go. The Neighb picks Jay for the win and Jesse to be auf.

And so it went. Jay won for a being "truly amazing" and praised for taking a material that has been seen on PR many times before "but never like this".

Photo courtesy of Lifetime.com

And while Emilio is dismissed for something that was "pure Vegas show girl",

Montage created by the clever folks at Blogging Project Runway, from the original photo at Lifetime.com

it was Jesse who was aufed for a look that was "disappointing, uninspired and looked like a costume, not fashion". So off he goes, returning to his life as a Johnny Depp impersonator while whiny, bitchy, "no, really, I meant it to look that way" Emilio survives to snark another day.

I Statements

2010-03-02T19:14:00.000-08:00

I am ever so grateful for the kind wishes of all y'all yesterday. My impending root canal will be next week. I have to take good medicine first. But I am already much improved and very much grateful to Alexander Fleming, the dude who first scraped mold off some bread and said, "This will make Rainey's tooth feel better".

I am, however, very tired today. And work was emotionally exhausting. Hardest part of the job is hugging a grieving, fresh made widow and saying "I'm so sorry for your loss". Because you really are but there's nothing else you can do to heal the pain and you have to just let them sob and hope that hugging them and letting them cry will somehow be, well, not enough but at least a help.

I would like to have a nickel for every time The Child slams a door, yells "Come on!" (and/or "You know what?) as a preface to some injustice being committed by her parents or says, "One second" when she doesn't have any intention of coming in 1 second or even 60 of them.

I suspect that there won't be much talk in the press about the special election that was won tonight by a Democrat. Because that will mess up most folks' punditry. I can guarantee there won't be a word of it on FAUX "News".

March On

2010-03-01T06:55:00.000-08:00

Let's just pretend February never happened.

It's the first day of March and even though it's a frosty morning here in the Emerald City, there was plenty of bird song. Sure, the birds were no doubt saying things like, "Leonard, we should never have closed up the summer house so early" and "What did I tell you, Shirley? What? Another week or two in Miami woulda killed you?" but there was bird song nonetheless. And there are also blooming things. Of course, that owes largely to our nearly dry and completely snow-free El Nino of a winter but things are blooming and they are carrying spring in all their little green cells.

My sails were slack in February. (It's a stupid month. The only things it has to recommend it are Groundhog Day and my sister Audrey Hepburn's birthday. That's not much to go on). I am glad to see the backside of it and even if you don't join me, I'm going to ignore it completely.

Disclaimer: There are people all over the world who are in a really bad way right now. There are people in my life who are dealing with very difficult and scary circumstances. There are people in serious pain and I am very sensible of that when I tell you: ow ow ow ow ow.

I have been experiencing hideous pain from a tooth. I haven't had a lot of physical pain in my life. I had kidney stones once and THAT was a killer. I actually did think I was dying. Worst. Pain. Ever. Even more than childbirth, which is also on my list. But a couple of other times I've had reallyreally bad toothaches. You go around, minding your own business, brushing and flossing religiously and taking your calcium and avoiding the gummi bears and doing all that other stuff you're supposed to do and then one day a tooth just randomly decides that you haven't suffered enough in life; you need a root canal. Which is likely what is going on right now.

I have a call in to my dentist and hopefully she will call first thing this morning and she will fix me up. Or she won't call and I will go down to her office and sit outside the door and whimper until she pays attention to me. Either way, I'd better be feeling better tomorrow or it'll get ugly. (Although, on Sling's recommendation, I was applying whiskey to the affected area with a Q-tip and it numbed the pain enough that I could sleep. For which I was extremely thankful. But I can't walk around with a flask of Crown Royal at work all day so something more substantial must be done. Still, that was really good advice).

Dining In

2010-02-24T19:17:00.000-08:00

The other day we were talking about the menu for the upcoming week and I said, "Oh, and by the way, you're cooking every other night this week". And The Spouse said, "Sure".

Because, you see, it's not that he doesn't want to cook or that he won't cook or that there's some tacit expectation that I'm supposed to do it all. But sometimes it seemed easier to just plan the menu and do the cooking and let it go at that. And sure, maybe he could have said, "Hey, you're doing all the cooking. That's not fair. Share the load". But I've learned, after 18 years of marriage, that if I want something I have only to ask for it. Dude's not a mind reader.

Of course, when he cooks it means that the process will involve lots of singing, dancing and inappropriate quotes from "South Park" but it's a small price to pay to have every other night "off".

A Poem for Tuesday Evening

2010-02-23T19:39:00.000-08:00

Oh my Yord!
It is almost 8pm.
Dinner is still cooking.
What the H?

The Mother Daughter Fashion Show I Mentioned

2010-02-22T06:40:00.000-08:00

It wasn't, strictly speaking a mother-daughter fashion show; mothers and daughters didn't walk down the runway together. But there was a tea or something at school and the organizers thought a fashion show would be fun (and also, I realize, terribly ironic when you consider where I grew up and that "fashion" was not something that was remotely connected to our daily existence). There were some grownups involved (but not Dame Judi) and then there were some kids. And it was an all-volunteer army because I was in the fashion show and let me assure you, the only way I would have gotten into a fashion show was because I raised my little hand.

I was not an attractive child. I don't say this to be modest and self-deprecating. It's the truth. I was veryvery skinny, had scraggly hair that absolutely refused to be shaped (despite Dame Judi's efforts with annual Toni perms and weekly hair rollers) and I wore very thick and unattractive glasses. I also had all the self esteem of a lox. Whatever possessed me to think I could be in a fashion show is absolutely beyond me. Gangly and ungainly, all knees and elbows...."grace" is the last word you'd have associated with me at the time.

But volunteer I did. So I was in.

One afternoon all the models went into "town", to a dress shop that I never even knew existed. Dress shops were not a part of my culture. Our clothes were either sewn by Dame Judi, purchased from the Monkey Wards or hand-me downs from cousins. There was not time, money or interest in anything so specialized as a "dress shop".

I never thought of it before, but it's possible that little outing changed my life.

It wasn't a large shop but it sold, exclusively, clothing for women and girls. Racks and racks of pretty dresses, shelves of shoes and handbags. It had the feel of a candy store except that you got to wear the candy. We were instructed to select 2 outfits a piece, which would be loaned by the shop for the occasion. I cannot for the life of me recall my first selection but I can see the second dress in my mind as if it were hanging in front of me: a straight dress with short sleeves; lime green with some sort of pale ecru pattern on it that gave the suggestion of lace. It was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen in my life. I tried it on and in the mirror of the dressing room I saw, not an awkward, skinny kid but a woman transformed. You think I'm exaggerating? The only other time I have ever felt that mystified and awed by my reflection was when I tried on the dress I would choose for my wedding.

I handed the dress over to the shop lady, who affixed a little paper label to the hanger and added it to the rack of show clothes.

When the day of the show arrived we were all herded into bathrooms behind the school cafeteria. We put on our first outfit and lined up in the hall; some woman stood at the doors peering through the windows to give us our cues. I walked my first forgotten look and went back to the bathroom to change into The Frock. The same magic came over me, transforming me into the elegant swan that clearly lurked beneath my ugly duckling pin feathers. I was the last model to walk. I entered the cafeteria, shining (I knew) with the beauty that the dress had bestowed on me. I walked slowly, graciously...stopping in front of the first row of assembled chairs to twirl while the MC read a description of the dress, then walking slowly down the aisle so everyone could get a gander at this miracle of fabric and thread. Then I loped back to the front for another twirl before elegantly exiting the room.

Later Dame Judi told me I had lingered too long. The MC was done with her description and I should have been long gone before she thanked everyone for coming. I couldn't tell her then how important it was for everyone to be able to really see the most gorgeous dress ever made, how the applause I heard had taken me, at least for a minute, into another world, a place I didn't even know existed, where being pretty and graceful had some merits.

I had never felt like that in all my young life. (What was I, 12?) I wasn't going to feel that way again for sometime. But while I was in that magic bubble I had to enjoy it, even if it meant throwing off the timing of the show.

I ended up buying the dress. I don't remember the exact circumstances. Maybe Dame Judi put it on layaway. (It was terribly expensive....something like $20 dollars). Maybe I saved up my berry money and bought it in the summer. But I did eventually own that dress. And every time I wore it I felt beautiful and invincible.

Don't ever underestimate the power of a pretty dress.

A Little Bit of This, A Little Bit of That

2010-02-20T08:37:00.000-08:00

Heidi tells our designers that they will be working with new models this week and that while they are "inexperienced" they are an "attractive little group". And then out toddle 11 little pumpkins, none older than probably 8, who sweetly lisp the name of the designer with whom she has been paired. Meanwhile, the designers are alternately entranced or panicked. (Jesse says, "Oh crap!" and the stink of fear is so thick around Jonathan that smelling salts must be handed out to passersby).

The challenge is to create an age appropriate kid look (no slutty babies, please) that is fashion forward. Seth Aaron who, surprise surprise, has a daughter, is on top of this challenge like Seigfried on Roy. He knows kids, you see. He knows what they want, what they like and what they will wear. Houndstooth is involved. Amy, too, is particularly delighted with the challenge as she enjoys "mini clothes". Anthony, on the other hand, is befuddled as to how to make clothes for people lacking "bootie or breasts".

Emilio has decided that he's going to stand out from the pack this time by not being fashion forward and is making a pretty little dress just exactly, btw, like the pretty little dresses I saw hanging on a rack at Costco the other day. Ooh, looky! Jay is working with a combination of plum and navy fabrics! Yummy!

Jonathan has recovered enough from his fear of children to deliver a spot on impersonation of Michael Kors. (If the designing thing doesn't work out he and Santino could get together and take their PR schtick on the road).

Mila is color blocking. Again. Emilio (who really seems to believe that he is, in fact, all that and a bag o' chips) is snarky about that. The other designers, however, engage in playful banter with Mila about her signature. Because, as she informs us, she gets along with everyone.

This challenge is definitely breaking out along very clear lines. Most designers are embracing the challenge but the haters are clear.

Kid Hater Theater

Emilio: "If I get eliminated because of a kid..."

Jesse: "That's what I'm saying..."

Oh, hey, I forgot to mention; Portland has a husband that she misses veryvery much. She's really pretty. I bet her wedding photos are stunning.

As the day ends Tim arrives to announce a "nice surprise for you!" Is it money? Champagne? Dinner with Donna Karan? Of course not, silly. The designers are being given another day and $100 to make an adult companion look. And it is not, Tim stresses, to be a "maxi me from mini me". They must innovate from the child look.

Seth Aaron is so clear about his vision that he doesn't even bother to sketch anything.

After a trip to Mood and a contest to see how long Anth-annoy can keep his mouth shut (14:56), Tim comes in for a walk about.

He tells Jonathan he "loves what you've done here" but warns Portland that she is "really rocking Halloween here" and warns her to "be prepared for a response to that". Portland is mystified by this remark as she hates Halloween. But it is pretty orange over there.

Amy is composing pants out of many, many petals of fabric and Tim tells her it will either "stop the show or be clown clothes".

As for Seth Aaron, who has never wavered from his rock solid vision for this challenge, Tim is "really excited" and "profoundly wowed".

When our models come in for fittings there is a smidge of kid chaos (and Jonathan says the workroom is like "Romper Room on crack") but I must say, the children in question seem to be very nice little girls....not to diva-like or anything...just ordinary little kids who get to play dress up. (Which totally flashed me back to my one experience with the runway....a mother-daughter fashion show for the PTA. When I was in 7th grade. Remind me to tell you about it sometime).

The Runway
Tory Burch is the guest judge.

All of the designers manage to achieve distinctive kid and adult looks; nothing is matchy matchy. Some are cute. Some are boring (like Ben's...because Ben is a bore). Sometimes the adult look is better than the kid look and visa versa. But one thing is certain: Seth Aaron hit it out of the damn ball park. And we like Amy's fluttering mommy pants.

Top Three/Bottom Three

Jesse's kid dress is asymmetrical (and a little disconcerting in that, if you ask me-forced whimsy isn't whimsical) and Heidi says she would have preferred if he'd made it straight. But Tory likes that he used grey for a kid look and Nina found the whole thing "adorable" and adds that "the model mom looks pretty good".

Seth Aaron hears nothing but praise as both looks are equally wonderful. Kors calls them "super and strong" and Nina loves that he thought about every element, down to the little purse for the kid model to carry. (Apparently his daughter owns over 200 purses. And she's not a grownup. That's not judgement, btw. More like jealousy).

Jay is praised by Heidi for the obvious thought that went into his looks. Kors refers to them as "really chic" and Nina declares them "really striking, modern and urban". (And did I mention how much I personally adore the plum/navy combo?)

On the other side of the coin, we have Nina telling Portland that she doesn't like that everything is too plain. Heidi goes farther, declaring that the kid look is like a "cheap mall outfit" (although she is careful to use her best mommy voice and tell the little model that she, personally, is adorable). Kors dismisses the mom jacket as a a "home ec" project.

Heidi tells Jonathan that his kid outfit looks "uncomfortable" (which the little model confirms when asked..."it is sticking me a little") and Nina complains that it is all "too sophisticated, too conceptual". Kors likes it even less, claiming the models look like they were caught in a "tornado of toilet paper".

Poor Amy, who decided to go out on a limb finds said limb crashing to the ground. Kors says the kid look suggests the house was on fire and the little one just threw on whatever she could find. (The kid likes the outfit, especially the sweater...which is kinda ratty and kinda cool). And he calls the pants a "train wreck". Nina finds the looks "confusing and circus-like" and Heidi just calls it all "hideous". Now mind you, The Neighb, MAB and I all like the pants. We can only assume this is one of those "must be something in real life that we just can't see" deals.

When we take our own vote we are quite sure of the outcome. Seth Aaron will handily win and Amy will be spared because she is a good designer and one miscalculation will hardly be her undoing when Portland has so consistently been a big "meh".

And we were right. Seth Aaron is the winner for creating something "chic and polished" for the adult while perfectly meeting the initial challenge of something "age appropriate and fashion forward" for the kid.Photo courtesy of Lifetime Networks by way of Blogging Project Runway

And Portland's aufing includes the dreadful judgement: "you bored us". But after the auf Portland declared that she wasn't going to "stop just because Heidi Klum said she wouldn't wear any of my pieces". And you gotta admire Portland for that. Because the truth is, Heidi Klum gets it wrong easily 50% of the time. You want proof? How about that horrible toga she wore tonight? Eewww.

Checking In

2010-02-19T20:16:00.000-08:00

I wore a little black Calvin Klein number to work today. It was just a little basic black dress, the sort of thing that is appropriate for work or for a cocktail. But the real significance of this particular wardrobe choice was that I haven't been able to fit into that dress for six months.

Can I have an "Amen"?

Also, for those of you who were wondering, the PR recap will appear tomorrow....I had a project at work that I really felt compelled to finish so I didn't exercise my "Come In Late On Fridays" card.

Now I'm off to enjoy some black bean tart and a movie with the family. Assuming, that is, that said family can stop bickering long enough to enjoy dinner and a movie.

Just Like Starting Over

2010-02-18T06:10:00.000-08:00

Funny thing about blogging. When I first started (nearly 5 years ago - yikes) I told a handful of people, for the purposes of accountability. Never dreamed that at my peak I'd have over 100 daily readers or that so many of them would become real and true friends (waves furiously at all the real and true friends). I never once thought that anything much would come of it, except for the daily discipline of writing which might lead to something. (It didn't, really, except for that one piece in that one journal that was published once). But it lead to many friends (throws kisses in their direction) and satisfaction and even joy so it was all good.

Then The Job - the most wonderful, awesome and fulfilling (paying) job I've ever had came along and some things had to give. Including daily blogging. Not that I wanted to slow down or stop (although I entertained the notion). Nor did I want to slow down or stop reading other blogs (even though I reluctantly have). It was just something that came with the working woman package (along with undone laundry, dusty mantels and not volunteering at school. Wait. That last one is a plus). Point is, I still don't want to stop blogging. Still not entirely sure why. Because if the initial point was to, as I said, build the discipline of writing into my life, well, the truth is, I write on my job. Not daily and not always the sorts of things I really truly want to be writing but the fact is, I've been published exponentially more since starting The Job than in all the blogging-every-day years. (Plus I develop virtually all the content for our website and THAT is a joy. It is also why I'm going to be presenting at the annual Managers' Conference on how to make your website superfantastic. Chortle).

Anyscribe, I decided that one thing I would do in Lent is focus on my blog and do so for the original reason...to make time for that daily expression. Not because it's always literary gold but because when it hits, when that one good phrase or coherently expressed thought reveals itself it is sooooo satisfying. And I'm not going to work for the government forever but I have been, since I first learned how to make letters on a tablet, a writer so I might as well keep my hand in.

But you want to hear the funny thing? All this last year when I was working and barely blogging I still got at least a comment or two a day from the faithful and the few. And that was both humbling and awesome. But yesterday I didn't get a single comment. (Or at least I hadn't by the time I started writing this). And it was OK. Because, for one thing, fair is fair and for another, well, it was almost like when I was first blogging, before anyone knew I was here. And it occurred to me how appropriate that really was...with me sorta reclaiming the purpose of my blog and sending these first posts out into a void without expectation that anyone is going to be coming by....doing it for me, because I want to and also because, strangely, I still feel like I need to.

And I think that's just about enough navel gazing for one blog post.

Ashes, Ashes

2010-02-17T08:14:00.000-08:00

Ah, Lent. Permission to slow down, unplug, eat less, pray more....I need the formality of such edicts to do what it always makes sense to do.

This year I'll be praying for 2 friends on difficult journies and hope to enter in with them, to help share the load, to - as we Catholics like to say - be Christ to them. Because sometimes people need that.

For myself, I'm going to focus on being more, uh, focused. Perhaps "attentive" is the better word. Attentive to others, to the important things, making time to do what improves and stimulates me rather than just plugging into the mindless things that divert attention from doing. And I'm giving up sweets. Because I like to think that I'm not much of a sweetie person but I am and I'm still trying to get more svelte for all my big events in May, which now include The Child's confirmation and attending the Carole King/James Taylor concert with MAB. My trip to Omaha is officially firm and a'happenin', which delights me no end. A weekend in Omaha with JP is like going to a spa. Seriously.

So there you have it. I will be making an ash of myself later in the morning and then the season will officially begin. That makes me happy.

Doldrums

2010-02-13T08:45:00.000-08:00

This has been a weird week.

I didn't work out one single day (and now have to make a new Mii because you have no idea how snarky that Wii trainer can be if you miss even one day, let alone a week. I'm too fragile. I can't take it).

It was really super quiet at work all week.

I started the week finding out that a friend may have cancer and ended it finding out that another friend does have cancer. And they are both too young. Even though I'm sure it was caught early enough and they'll both be fine because the fact is, just about everyone, it seems, eventually ends up getting some damn cancer or another and most of them live to tell about it. In fact, of all the people known personally to me who have had a cancer diagnosis....I mean really close to me - only one didn't win. So that's pretty good odds, right?

Plus I've had a bunch of stuff I've wanted to write about but I couldn't muster the will. I guess I've been wandering in a bit of a miasma of something or other this week. Maybe it's just February.

On the Cover

2010-02-12T07:18:00.000-08:00

I had to ferry The Child back and forth to confirmation class, MAB had a dinner date and The Neighbor was singing in a concert so I had to watch PR by myself this week. Which is always dangerous because I sometimes fall asleep during "30 Rock". Which I did. And then The Child came in a little after 10 and woke me up (bless her) but then it took a little time to change the channel to Lifetime because we have 4 remotes and you have to have a degree from MIT to get them to do what you want. Fortunately, The Child has mad techno skillz. But I missed whatever it was Heidi said to the designers. No matter.

When I arrived, they were all gathered 'round with Tim and Ms. Joanna Coles, who is the editor-in-chief of Marie Claire magazine. The challenge is for the designers to create a look for the April cover of the magazine and the look will be modeled by none other than the Great Fertile One herself, Heidi Klum. The designers are all in raptures at the opportunity. Ms. Coles gives them some important instructions. They should bear in mind that the photo will likely be cropped so if they are going to have details they should be toward the top of the look. Color is good and black is a no no. Finally, they need to remember that the look can't make it difficult to read the type that will be laid over it.

They sketch a bit (Gay Ghetto says he is going to do something "form fitting and short but not slutty") and then Tim takes them off to spend $150/ea at Mood (where Janeane, who only has the vaguest of ideas about what colors she wants is just "grabbing, grabbing, grabbing" fabric).

Back at the workroom you could hear the proverbial pin drop, so intent are our designers on their quest. Except for Seth Aaron who has the annoying and juvenile habit of singing and dancing while he works. Which makes all the other designers want to skewer him with pinking shears. At one point Gay Ghetto asks, "Did you smoke anything else when you went outside for a cigarette?" Seth Aaron says 'no' and Gay Ghetto dubiously replied, "I'll take your word for it".

Janeane is concerned that her look is going too "bridal" and she doesn't do bridal and her instinct is telling her to watch it. She then utters one of the best lines ever in the history of PR: "I'm trying not to emote the dread I'm feeling". Good girl. Stay on the meds.

Tim's Walk Around
Tim is worried that Gay Ghetto's look is "gimmicky" and GG takes that to heart. Several times he tells us that he is really listening to the critique of the judges and wants to incorporate the lessons he learns from them.

Mila's "signature" is apparent to Tim and he passes on (though Emilio later snarks that Mila has a one note talent for color blocking and that's it). Janeane, meanwhile, tells Tim that she is doing something with layered ocean-y colors and he muses that she doesn't want the end result to "look like clown clothes".

Ben has some Madame-Butterfly-on-acid theme which Tim likes very much but warns him that plans for a patent leather belt could cheapen the whole thing and make it "look like a joke".

Anna, who is really in the weeds, is cautioned to not lose her editing eye and Tim worries that whatever "wow factor" Emilo may aspire to will be compromised by the fact that time is running out. (He's doing some lacing with ombre that provides a nice detail but is very time consuming).

Tim leaves and we get a nice dose of both worry and snark from the designers. The group has dwindled enough that they more easily pick apart each other's POV or lack thereof. Later Tim reminds them that this is the "biggest challenge in the history of PR". Because they aren't under enough pressure. Gay Ghetto, however, takes it in stride. Like the other designers he wishes there were more time but, he opines, "Life isn't fair; why the hell should Project Runway be?" I admit it. I like him more than I used to. His affectations are a little over the top but brother has a great attitude.

The Runway
Joining our regular panel is Ms. Coles. Which is appropriate. It's her cover.

Amy's dress is great and looks like something Heidi would wear. Amy, I suspect, will go very far in this competition. She is consistently good except when she is amazing.

Seth Aaron constructed a very attractive suit but I don't see it on the cover of a magazine. And it is too dark.

Jesse made a nice dress but it is way way too short.

Anna's ensemble was pure and simple nasty. The shorts were too short, there was a weird and pointless bolero and the whole thing just looked yucky.

Anthony (see? I really do like him more now) sent down a very sophisticated and pretty blue dress with a lovely ruffle detail that wasn't exactly a ruffle that ran from the shoulder to the bodice. A pleasant example of what someone is capable of when that someone is willing to learn. Historically in PR, the designers who come in with a big costume sensibility are never able to learn how to ratchet down the hugeness of costume design to create sophisticated coutoure. Anthony appears to be making the leap. Good on him.

Janeane's dress has but one message: she has ideas but they are not original. Mila's outfit makes me go "blech", Emilio's look is very pretty lingerie, Jay's dress is dramatic and beautiful and Jonathan sent down a romper. Really? Eeewww. Maya was kinda boring and Ben's dress was quite ugly. I quite hated it. The colors made my skin crawl, the cut was very severe and frankly, I've seen prettier potholders at craft fairs.

Of course, that's just me. The judges were delighted with Ben's dress. MK said it would "cut through the noise on the news stand" and Nina said it was "beautiful front and back".

Anna was reamed for a look that Nina said had "no shape or silhouette". Ms. Coles cruelly announced that it was "three ingredients in a dish that makes you nauseous" and that Anna totally misread the typical reader of Marie Claire.

Kors gleefully tells Anthony "The costume drama is over!" and Nina tells him that she liked the dress very much for Heidi and celebrates that he was one of the few designers to embrace color. Heidi, who will be postpartum by the time she wears the dress, remarked that it was "very slimming".

On the other hand, Heidi tells Janeane that her dress is "not fashion forward" and dismisses it as "too sweet". Ms. Coles says that she is "not getting the sea reference....unless it's a polluted sea with plastic bottles in it". Wow. Miranda from "Devil Wears Prada" anyone?

Mila has missed the mark. Kors tells her that the peach color she chose reads like "an Ace bandage". Nina too hates the color and tells her the dress will "crop badly".

Emilio wins praise from Kors for taking jersey, a fabric that does not want to be structured, and crafting it into submission. But Nina declares that the ribbon-y straps are "too junior". The judges make him cut off the straps and take out the model's ponytail and then they like it much better.

I pick Janeane to be out, only because Anna got snaps for doing separates and crafting her shorts well, and Anthony for the win. Oh, and because the reward of this challenge is so huge, the winner won't have immunity.

And the winner is...Anthony! Who is very "oh oh oh" at the news. Heidi tells him that she can't wait to wear the dress and off he happily skips.

(Photo courtesy of ProjectRunway.com)

Janeane is tsk tsked for a look "more bridal than fashion forward" but it is Anna who is aufed for a "forgettable look that wouldn't stand out" on the news stand. Janeane cries for her friend. There is some sadness and woe in the green room because Anna is a nice little thing but she is also only 23. She has plenty of time to find her voice.

I'm not ready to pick the designers that'll be showing at Fashion Week but keep an eye on Amy, Emilio and Jay. And unless something amazing happens soon, Janeane is not long for the competition.

I Like Soup

2010-02-05T06:48:00.000-08:00

Heidi, wearing a very unfortunate muumuu thing, informed the designers that they would be designing a look for a Fashion Week gala and would be introduced to a group of "very inspiring" women. Tim further clarified the challenge. Campbell's Soup has an "Address Your Heart" project raising funds and awareness for heart related illnesses and the look in question would be worn to their big event. It had to be red and it had to incorporate the Campbell's soup branding. (We all immediately thought of Andy Warhol).

The inspirational women? Ladies who had been impacted by various heart conditions. They were also real women of different sizes, colors and ages. Winner of the challenge would accompany his/her "muse" to the event and the dress would have a limited production, to be sold on Projectrunway.com, to help raise funds for the charity.

So we have our feel good challenge and are treated to the designers talking with and being moved to tears by their models and their stories. Except Seth Aaron, whose model has very strong ideas about what she wants, which could lead to trouble. There is a lot of bonding with models, especially between Jesus and Gay Ghetto.

$100 dollars and 1 day to create, plus Campbell's has provided a bunch of logo fabric.

One of the issues that becomes immediately apparent for nearly all the designers is working with new models who are not models. As Seth Aaron delicately put it, this was the "largest challenge" he'd ever faced as a designer; meaning his model was not a size 0. Pft.

MAB notes that Jesus has hair like a Chai pet.

Seth Aaron's model wants something Grecian and he goes along because she is the client, but he's not convinced. Janeane is still using the good meds because she doesn't fall apart when she drops her fabric into a bucket of water that is inexplicably standing near her ironing board.

Tim's walk around is uneventful except to tell Snotty Jesse that his look doesn't have "much in the way of fashion" if one disregards the jacket he's working on. He muses with one designer that the challenge is a "good lesson for all of us" in having to work with "real women". (And let me just say that while some of the ladies are of a size, it's not like they are working with tubs o' lard. This whole thing really points to the bias of the fashion community against anyone with boobs or hips and makes me a little sad because these are, for the most part, young and unformed designers and even they already resist womanly shapes).

Tim is all astonishment at the Grecian thing, noting Seth Aaron is the last designer he would pick as the creator. He doesn't hate it, per se, but it gives rise to the obligatory "don't lose yourself as a designer in order to please your client" speech. Which results in Seth Aaron beginning to completely remake the dress with only hours left.

In this regard, however, he is not entirely alone. Amy notes that she has about 70% of her dress left to make and most of the other designers are similarly struggling to complete their ensembles.

The Runway

Guest judge is Georgina Chapman. (That's ok. We'd never heard of her, either).

Some of the looks that come down the runway are notable for their ugliness. Maya has done something that puts The Neighbor in mind of Miss America. There is "draping" to create the illusion of a heart but it is very heavy and stiff and the gold sash-y thing, in our view, does nothing for the dress or its wearer. Amy sends down something very pretty and flowy although there is a lack of obvious branding. She is not alone in this, however, and of the designers who do use the logo fabric, it is only as trim. The exception is the immunity bearing Mila, who has used the Campbell's star as the inspiration of her dress. Conceptually this is quite clever but the execution, in our view, has resulted in a very hideous flag which reminds MAB more of Macy's than Campbell's.

The Neighbor is not impressed with the little confection that Janeane has whipped up. MAB and I mostly like it, save for the underskirt which should have been more flow-y or made of tulle or something. But still. Seth Aaron's model worked her dress and it has a more fitted and "designed" look than the original.

Top Three/Bottom Three

This is the point where the 3 of us enter a parallel universe, where nearly everything we hated is lauded by the judges and nearly everything we loved is loathed by them. "Well, remember, we aren't seeing it live," says MAB. True that. But really? On what planet is the flag gown "fun" or deserving of a "job well done?"

Anysoup, Mila's flag is in the top, as is Amy. Nina loved the fabric and movement, Chapman found it both "ethereal and confident" and Kors deemed it "elegant but modern". And Maya too is in the top. Heidi finds it "interesting" and notes "the design in there". Nina applauds the effort that went into the draping and at this point MAB says, "I have lost my mind". (Honestly, the front of this dress is sooooooo heavy and sooooooooo without movement it strains the boundaries of credulity that the judges could truly admire this dress without benefit of psychotropic drugs).

The bottom 3 are Jesse (Kors said it looked costum-y and he should have used another fabric. Nina is unimpressed with the pocket square he did of Campbell's fabric) & Anna (Nina likes the bottom of the dress but not the racer back and Chapman says it doesn't "feel like evening"). But the most stern comments are reserved for Jesus. Given that the only time he hasn't been in the bottom was the one time he was lucky enough to partner with a talented designer, this is no surprise. Kors is flabbergasted and says, "Where do I start?" then accuses Jesus of making a checklist of every tacky element in the world and then proceeding to make sure it was all incorporated in his design. Heidi concedes he has excellent construction skills but notes his lack of taste.

We all agree Amy should win and that Jesus should be out and that is exactly how it played out. Amy won for her dress which "moved beautifully" and in which her model looked "happy and elegant".

Jesus fundamentally was sent away because, as Kors said earlier, "Taste is not something that can be taught".

Jesus was remarkably perky after the aufing, even saying "Cool" when Tim sent him to the workroom to pack up. And that was nice. With any luck he will be hired by a good design firm where he can employ his construction skills to good effect.

Now, quick show of hands: when listing your top 5 comfort foods, how many of you include Campbell's tomato soup and grilled cheese sammies? Me too.

Let Them Eat Cake

2010-02-03T07:05:00.000-08:00

The main thing to accomplish for The Child's Sweet 16 party was her cake. Which she envisioned in her chosen colors (chocolate brown and pink). Polka dots were involved. Despite my noteworthy stint as Worst Mother in the World, she seems to believe I can do anything. Like make a cake worthy of Duff Goldman. 'Cept the truth be told, I can barely ice a cake without embarrassing myself. (Reason number 13 Why I Love Pie: You don't have to ice it). But The Child, you see, wanted fondant. I knew exactly what she had in her head. I could see it, too. Just not so much with the execution. Also, I worked with fondant maybe a dozen years ago, in an effort to make "ribbons" for a cake for my parents' 40th wedding anniversary or something like that. And I had help. And it was just a decorative touch, not the entire set piece. Are you getting the picture?

First thing I did was buy fondant. I've made it. It can be made. But really, why would you when someone else has done the work already? That's right. And the woman who was selling the fondant had some in very hot pink. Which could be muted with some of the pure white fondant, thus saving me not so much time (still had to knead the stuff) but mess (like when I had to dye AND knead the brown fondant).

Here's the fondant in its larval state:

And this is how the pink turned out. Much toned down, right?

My original plan was just to cover each layer in fondant, decorate with the requested polka dots and let it go at that. The first layer of brown fondant was easy enough. But when it came to covering the round layers I was suddenly confronted with engineering issues. Like, how do you make the fondant all straight and flush to the cake when what it wants naturally to do is drape?

Well, if you're anything like me and you really don't have time to research the problem, you use your imagination. Hey! That looks like a skirt, doesn't it? A few polka dots, a nice bow at the back...

From a distance, and with plenty of distracting gee gawgery, it didn't look half bad.

I Can't See My Shadow

2010-02-02T06:43:00.000-08:00

I told myself this morning that I was going to download the pictures from The Child's Sweet Sixteen bash and get blogging about it. But then I discovered how many pictures were actually taken and now I have to go sort through them all and find the ones that best tell the story so that report will have to come tomorrow.

But suffice to say, it was a good party.

And also, I went to my first roller derby bout this weekend. One of the teams was skating to benefit The House so MAB and I went. That is a whole other blog foddery tale.

But suffice to say, I have decided that my roller derby name would be Julia Riled. I would wear pearls and an apron and whenever I blocked a jammer I'd trill "Bon appetit, suckah".

I wounded myself the other night while grating cheese. We've all done it...scrapped a knuckle on the grater. Hurts like H, bleeds like a stuck pig, takes forever to heal because the wound is on a bendy place.

Suffice to say, I won't post any pictures of that.

Are We Bored Yet?

2010-01-29T08:00:00.000-08:00

I was not overly enthusiastic going into tonight's PR. For one thing, I was supposed to be at MAB's delicious new downtown flat, teaching her to cook halibut and enjoying the ambiance of her tres chic environs but alas, she has a terrible head cold and I sent her home from work early. And also because I knew this week was going to be a team challenge and I HATE team challenges.

But there was a smidge of promise. Heidi greeted the group with the question "How would you like to meet some of the most iconic designers of all time?" And all the little designers clapped their little hands and exclaimed, "Yes! Yes!" Of course, since most of the iconic designers of all time are dead, it was no surprise that they went off to meet Tim at the Metropolitan Museum of Art (and if you're not from NY make sure if you go to not make the mistake of referring to it as "The Met". That's what New Yorkers call the opera). He was standing in the newly reopened American wing, surrounded by 10 gowns from the likes of Yves St. Laurent and Dior. Beautiful things. The designers were told that they would have $500 (the largest PR budget ever for a single challenge) and 2 days to create a high end look that would be at home with the dresses amid which they stood. Pulling buttons from his little velvet bag, Tim chose the team leaders, who then got to pick their partners.

Jay, who has immunity, chose Maya. Jesus, who has been in the bottom 2 the last 2 weeks, got very lucky to be a leader and chose Amy, who has mad skillz (and should have won last week). Gay Ghetto smiled smugly and said, "I choose this day...Seth Aaron", who blissfully scampered over to him saying, "Where's my brown sugar". I now pronounce you man and wife. Janeane picked Ben, who is notable for being totally forgettable, Mila copped Jonathan because he has "excellent construction skills". Ping picked Jesse, who had told the camera earlier that there was no way he wanted to work with Ping and Emilio was left with Anna. The designers had time to commune with the dresses in the museum and they all, including Tim, are on the verge of weeping being so close to such mega designs.

After some sketching and jostling, they are off to Mood to select fabric and Ping is bouncing around like the airy fairy nutcase she is. She and Jesse have a mild disagreement about something and he is shown smacking his fist into his hand behind her back. He really doesn't want to work with her and is making no bones about it. The other designers are all happy and giggly, especially the newlyweds.

There is very little apparent drama in the beginning. Mila is thinking and Jonathan is constructing, which is niggling him a little. Jesse is being a complete bitch and questioning Ping's every decision, forcing her into a dithering place that she hadn't been in before he started nattering at her. "Your causing me to have doubts," she moans. "I'm not doubting the vision," he says ever so arrogantly, "I just want to know that there is a vision".

Work proceeds apace and toward the end of the day Tim comes in for a "gather 'round". Uh oh. Sure enough, the luxurious 2 day challenge just got ugly. Now the designers have to create a second "look for less", something more ready-to-wear. They will get an additional $50 for fabric and the look must pay homage to but not copy one of the high end looks created by another team. This situation raises the tensions that heretofore were only simmering. Ping and Jesse are now engaged in all out war (especially when Ping comes back with some fabric that he deems "cheap"), Jay is totally slacking because he has immunity and Maya is doing all the work because she knows his slacking + immunity can equal disaster for her, Jonathan is starting to resent the amount of work he's doing while Mila continues to obsess over her "vision" and the newlyweds have their first spat.

Tim's Walk Around is essentially uneventful, except to urge Jay & Maya to "keep it simple", confirm Jesse's judgement that Ping's LFL fabric is cheap and allow us some humor when Gay Ghetto scolds Seth Aaron, "Don't argue in front of company". (The Neighbor thinks he is hilarious. I can only tolerate him in very small doses).

The Runway
Joining the regular judges (I just love saying that) is British designer Matthew Williamson.

The show seemed to go in an uneventful blur until Emilio's look came down the runway. It was lovely and we also liked what Jay and Maya (mostly Maya) created. Anthony/Seth Aaron and Ping/Jesse receive the lowest scores, Jay/Maya and Mila/Jonathan the highest. (Poo. Can't believe Emilio is only "safe").

Jay & Maya are applauded for their high end look, which was "dramatic and striking" and told that their LFL "blows the $500 inspiration out of the water". Mila & Jonathan get kudos for doing something more futuristic. The set piece of the look is a very modern black and white jacket that garners much praise although their LFL look is mostly a "meh".

On the other hand, Nina tells Ping and Jesse that the high end look is "just a bunch of fabric". Kors says it looks like it would be worn by the Statue of Liberty. As for the LFL look, Kors says, "I don't think anyone designed anything". Jesse snarks that he spent most of his time teaching Ping to sew and their model complains that she was never fitted into the LFL dress. The newlyweds are dissed for creating a dress appropriate for "a cotillion party in the south from Hell" and for an LFL dress that was nothing more than "an acetate cocktail dress". Nina merely dismissed them both with a "They're both really ugly". Ouch.

The Neighb and I both pick Ping to go and the Jay and Maya combo to win. But it was Mila that was declared the winner for a look that was "exciting and modern" and which received the gratitude of the judges for doing something other than a gown.
Jonathan, too, is safe. While the newlyweds are reprimanded for not being fashion forward and creating "couture" that was "a mess" and a LFL that was "a major snooze", they were safe, along with Jesse. Ping's totally lack of design or apparent vision was her undoing. And while I believe this was largely brought on by Jesse constantly harping on her, the result was the same. She was auf and she cried very hard and Tim sweetly told her "I cannot imagine that work room without you". But Ping tearfully tells us that she "surprised" herself and that "the journey continues". Bless her little heart.

Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go wrestle fondant. Tomorrow is The Child's Sweet Sixteen party and she is operating under the delusion that her mother is the Ace of Cakes.

A Smattering

2010-01-27T07:12:00.000-08:00

Update:
Yesterday was much better than Monday. The Child and I had a talk about the hissy she'd thrown and cleared the air. We went out for a delicious dinner and watched "16 Candles" when we got home. She got lots of wonderful presents from wonderful people and went to bed happy. And so did I.

Small World Story:
We had dinner in a new sushi restaurant near our house. The woman who waited on us also owns one of my favorite little shops in the 'hood. (You may have heard that being a small business owner is currently not the easiest gig. So Shop Lady also takes some shifts at the sushi restaurant to keep body and soul together. She's amazing). Even though I've been shopping in her store for quite a while now, we'd never formally met so we took care of introductions over dinner. Then she pulled out her phone and friended me on Facebook. A little later she came back and asked, "How do you know Pat Briscoe?" Some of you may remember Pat from the early bloggy days. I told her about our virtual acquaintance and then she said she'd gone to high school with him. Six degrees of separation, baby. It's for real, I tell you.

Amazing Food:
Yesterday MAB brought me a little treat from a bakery near her new digs. It was a "pancakes and bacon" cupcake....delicious cake studded with little sugary bits of bacon, a creamy butter and maple frosting adorned with more bits o' bacon (as opposed to Baycun Bits, mind you). It was the best. thing. ever. I'm going to try and adapt it into a cake for our Carnevale feast. Fantastic.

Good Read
I've started reading "Just Kids" by Patti Smith. It is beautiful. She writes like she's from another century; dense, deliberate, poetic language where every word is clearly chosen with great care. Not at all what you'd expect from the Queen of Punk.

Good News:
The Child lost her cell phone in a train station yesterday. On the way to the car after dinner I got a call from a guy who'd found it. He's bringing it to my office today. He doesn't know this, but I'm giving him a reward. Dude just saved me $100 on the replacement phone. It's the least I can do.

Don't Forget:
The President's State of the Union address is tonight. I always watch the SOTU, even if I don't like the guy delivering it. This year will be a treat; not only do I very much like and support The President, I just adore listening to him speak. I just hope there aren't any arse Republicans planning to pull a Joe Wilson tonight. Idiots. I've really come to loathe the GOP.

Sweet 16. (OK, Not So Much on the Sweet Right Now But I Guess That Goes with the Territory).

2010-01-26T07:00:00.000-08:00

16 years ago, right this minute, I was wearing a very unflattering but serviceable hospital gown and cracking jokes. No, really. In between contractions, it was a big ol' laughfest in the delivery room. Months later I ran into my labor nurse at the hospital and she told me that in her entire career she'd never laughed as much as she had at The Child's delivery. I like to think that the fact that there was more laughter than pain at her birth has some sore of significance.

I am feeling much more sentimental today than I expected. Probably because last night The Child, with much weeping and gnashing of teeth, delivered the "you don't believe in me, you never support me, blah blah blah" speech. I really hate that speech. Especially delivered on the eve of an occasion. Like her 16th birthday. A moment which, let's face it, I had something to do with. And yes, I am well aware that this goes with the territory and yes, certainly, I would much prefer The Attitude, born as it is of strong will and spunk, to the alternative. Like sex and drugs and alcohol and smoking and truancy and running with the wrong crowd or dating someone menacing with a name like Butch and a motorcycle. There is a lot about my 16 year old that I will put up against any other 16 year old and I'll do so with a whole lotta pride.

But when your baby turns on you, especially when you know that nothing you were saying to her remotely smacks of a lack of support, especially when you know what you've done to get her to this moment, yeah...it smarts a little.

And I was going to say, "but enough about me" and try to conjure up some sentimental crap about motherhood and the milestone of a daughter turning 16 and then I remembered, "This is my bloody blog and if I want to write about how I was, once again, told that I truly am 'the worst mother in the world', on the eve of my child's 16th birthday no less, and how it smarted and how it still does and how truly annoying that is, well then, that's what I'm going to do". So there. Pft.

So a happy birthday to my rotten, ungrateful child. I love her very much. I know she was put on this earth to do great things. And that's true whether she believes it or not.

Farmville Fashion

2010-01-22T07:16:00.000-08:00

We begin in the apartments and on the boys' side, the Bottom Three are all waxing philosophical about how they need to "step it up". Then we go over to the girls' apartment and I'm basically looking at The Neighbor with a "who are these people"? The early weeks are sooooo difficult. (In fact, here's a thought...start the show with 10 designers. Maybe give 'em a few weeks of challenges with no aufing so much as point accumulation...just so we can really get to know them. Then start aufing away).

Heidi and her Seal Pup bump remind the the designers that Emil has immunity and then says that in an effort to "see what you are made of" they're going to be sent somewhere "a little out there". And one of the designers wonders if it could be the moon. Sure. Because Lifetime has that kind of budget.

Next shot is Tim, outstanding in his field (tee), surrounded by the models wearing potato sacks and Wellies. Oh, this is delightful. The designers are to demonstrate the age old adage about a woman being so beautiful she can even make a potato sack look good. The garment is going to be worn to an "industry event", the models are the clients and they get to pick their designers. (And then we have the obligatory hypocrisy where the last one chosen is all "what am I, chopped liver" to the camera and all "oooh, goody, I really wanted to work with you" to the model who chose her). The designers get to "shop" at a "farm stand" full of embellishments and then it is off to the work room.

This next bit is hard to express without audio but I'll try. Ping tells us in staccato: "I. want. to. play. with. the. texture. of. the. potatosack". It made us laugh.

Tim admonishes the designers to not lose sight of who they are even as they endeavor to please their clients. Mila (that's her name), who was chosen last and looks like a Vulcan, is talking trash to Gay Ghetto. Ping is confident, Anne Marie (I think) is doing potato prints on the potato sack, which is cute. and Pamela is engaged is a dying technique called ombre that is giving the burlap the vibe of denim.

Tim's Walkaround
Mila the Vulcan is fussing with some tulle embellishments and Tim believes it compromises the dress. And I ask, how in the world can tulle compromise anything?

Tim is "flabbergasted" by Jay's ambition and while he finds Ping's work "always intriguing" he explains to her the mechanics of the runway and how the very short skirt she has conceived will essentially provide a peep show for the judges. Jesus is admonished for obscuring the sack with embellishment. "You have, pardon the pun, skirted the challenge," says The Gunn. But Jesus plugs ahead, just like he did last week, because I guess when you have the same name as the Son of God it makes you think you too can walk on water.

The Runway
Guest judge this week was the inimitable Lauren Hutton. Bow down before her greatness.

Still too many looks to comment on them all however we loved Jay's dress and Amy's was a confection composed in burlap. Truly impressive and one of the few garments that was clearly made of burlap...but burlap transposed from itchy scratchy shapelessness into a soft, feminine blossom of a dress. Brilliant. And I know something of this. Growing up on a farm, I was well acquainted with the versatility of a potato sack. It upholstered the "furniture" in our tree forts, composed our Batman and Robin capes and yes, served as clothing for other playful endeavors - uncomfortable, unshapely clothing, but still. So Jay and Amy's work were triumphs of ingenuity and design.

There were also some decided misses, most notably yet another abomination from Jesus and a disturbing effort by Ping....some inexplicably wide shapes at the hip, a too short skirt and oh, what's this? The model's bum hanging out for all to see through an unfortunately gap in the back. Oy. "Thank goodness for the Brazilian wax," exclaimed MAB.

The Top Three

Jay for creating a "really impressive" dress that Hutton said "made burlap look expensive".
Mila, giving credence to my Vulcan theory, created a futuristic dress that was a hit with Heidi although she and Kors disagreed over the success of what he called "gapping" on the bodice. Nina praised her for taking burlap "from the farm to the future".
Amy's dress was described as "just beautiful" and praised by Kors for really using the fabric and not disguising it. Hutton declared, enthusiastically but perhaps inappropriately "You made it!"

The Bottom Three

Pam got snaps for her dye job, "it did look like denim" but Nina found the overall piece "too short, too tight and not sophisticated" while Kors lamented that a plain potato sack would have been more flattering. ("I think I had that dress," mused MAB. "It looks like something skanky I'd have worn to a disco in the 80s").
Heidi conceded that Ping had an "edgy" eye but wondered if that was enough and Ping herself was reduced to tears over her model's skin tone and how it matched the fabric too much. I'm not sure she understood the real problem...which was the form defying shape of the skirt and the eewww factor of bare model bum.
Jesus was questioned as to the percentage of burlap to other stuff and Heidi frankly told him that she "didn't see the challenge" anywhere in his garment while Hutton dismissed it as "a confused assault on the eye".

The Judging
Both The Neighbor and I picked Amy for the win, both because of the beauty of her dress and the successful transformation of what was still obviously burlap and Jesus to be out for yet again not heeding The Gunn and making something ugly.

Amy was, however, only safely in...which disappointed...and Mila the Vulcan, too, was safe. It was Jay who was declared the winner (beautiful dress, no question, but it was, we felt, farther away from the essence of burlap than Amy's dress).

Ping got lucky and she was grateful. And while Jesus' dress was deemed a disappointment for the way he covered up the burlap and turned it into something matronly, it was Pam who got the auf for a questionable taste level and the judges' concern that she didn't have the ability to be fashion forward.

While we were disappointed with the outcome, it was refreshing to have a show that was much more about the fashion than annoying personalities. (Gay Ghetto was a nominal presence compared to last week and Portland appears to still be on her meds). And perhaps best of all, "make it work" is back. The Gunn must have said it a half a dozen times last night.

A Note from the Maintenance Department

2010-01-21T19:01:00.000-08:00

I'm sorry for those of you who hate it, but Mommy had to reinstitute word verification on her bloggy. The "high yield interest" spammer and the spammer whose first language is clearly not English were getting on her nerves. And as annoying as typing the word veri may be, it's more annoying to have spam in the middle of an otherwise interesting thread or to have to go in and delete it after the fact. So there. Word verification: it's like a screen door for the front portal of your blog home.

Now if you'll excuse me, I have a Moroccan meatball tagine in the oven and the couscous needs to be started.

Caroline Laughs and It's Raining All Day, She Loves to Be One of the Girls

2010-01-20T19:09:00.000-08:00

I have begun planning The Child's Sweet 16 party. (Yes, I'll give you a minute to digest that. She was 11 when I started this blog).

She wanted "Pretty in Pink" as the theme. So the invitations were pink and the cake is going to be pink (with chocolate brown polka dots) and she wants pink balloons and pink streamers and pink food. (There'll be ham and maybe some pink punch but I'm not going to do anything crazy, like dye the deviled eggs. I have my limits). Some of the guests are, I know, wearing pink to the fete and so will the fetee. (She doesn't know that yet...I'm taking her shopping this weekend. Shhhh. It's a surprise).

At the moment I am not capable of making deep observations about this milestone. Frankly, I still haven't quite wrapped my head around it. Or my heart. Or maybe my failure to wrap my mind around it is a mechanism for protecting my heart. I can tell you that lately I have been noticing mommies with little tow headed toddler babies and something tugs inside. Because the truest words that were ever spoken is that it goes fast. It goes really, really fast.

Some Things I Don't Understand

2010-01-19T07:00:00.000-08:00

Why is it that I can have a dream wherein I am desperately trying to pursuade my mom to call the police while I desperately try to convince my brother that he should NOT go into the house next door because someone is breaking in but I'm barely able to get the words out and yet The Spouse pokes me because I'm talking in my sleep?

Why is it that my back kills me when I'm sleeping, unless I'm on my side and in a semi-fetal position but it doesn't bother me a lick during the day?

Why can't you teach a dog to sweep?

How is it possible that anyone at all anywhere on the planet pays attention to certifiable nutjobs like Pat Robertson?

Meant to Be

2010-01-15T06:51:00.000-08:00

The economy may still be stuttering, wars still raging and Haiti in a horrible mess (you're sending money to the Red Cross, right?) but last night, for an hour, all was right with the world again. Project Runway was back. And it was back in all the right ways: shooting again in NY, Nina and Kors back on the judges panel and Heidi Klum is cooking up yet another Seal Pup. It just felt right.

On the down side, it was the first episode, which is stuffed full of 412 contestants and little time to get a handle on any of 'em. But we'll make a cursory attempt.

Some of the folks who stood out, for good or for ill:

Seth Aaron, who looks a little like Bryan Ferry, sports hair that belongs in an '80s band and claims to be about "retro" looks.

Janene, heretofore to be referred to as Portland (where she's from and place of my birth), who spent 3/4 of the show moving herself to tears every damn time she spoke.

Ping, a physical therapist by day, who is all about how clothes move (since she knows how the body works) and who drapes herself instead of dress forms. She's a freak.

Anthony, who informed us that it is hell to be "black and gay in the ghetto". To which I reply, "Then perhaps you should lose the apricot tux shirt". His dream is to do pagent dresses. We all know what that means.

Pamela, who might be the sneaky bitch of the season. Or not.

Jonathan, who is exploring "where gritty meets pretty".

Jesse, whose day job is pretending to be Jack Sparrow at a theme park.

Mina and Maya, who are interchangable in looks and aesthetic.

Jesus, who is into evening wear and coutoure.

Emilo, who speaks Spanish and wants to do "real clothes".

We have champagne on the roof and next day the designers meet Tim in Central Park. The spot is littered with bolts of fabric and they all have a mere 3 minutes to grab what they want in order to create a look that "embodies who you are as a designer". Then The Gunn gives them 5 minutes to edit and select but a few of their fabric selections to take to the work room. These they must also unfurl and stuff into their Mood bags. This confounds Ping.

In the work room they all get a little tablet computer thingy to sketch upon and have until midnight to work. The models have been preselected for them and the winner will get immunity.
People sew.

The Gunn has a walk about. Ping is a freak. Portland weeps. Anthony annoys with his cliche "personality". Jesus is making something out of reptile and chiffon and The Gunn suggests it would work better as a short dress. But Jesus wants it to be a gown and smugly holds his own. Rainey applauds self-confidence. But The Gunn is always right and should be heeded. This is one of the immutable truths of the universe. Just sayin'. Emilio has constructed a nice bodice for a dress but The Gunn is worried that it is attached to nothing and notes that no one, in any prior season, has failed to send something down the runway. This week's Gunnism: "Recalibrate your ambitions to accommodate the time frame".

Panic. Sewing. Portland weeping again.

The day of the runway show arrives and thankfully, everyone has finished, everyone has thoughtfully used the Bluefly accessory wall and Portland has found her meds and is miraculously calm, cool and collected.

Nicole Ritchie (eeww) is the guest judge.

I tell The Neighbor that I can't possibly comment on the runway show as there are just too many designers. Then Pamela sends down a pink kite that she thinks is youthful and I throw up a little in my mouth. And when Emilio's dress comes down we chime in unison, "That is pretty cute!" We were mixed on Ping's look. The Neighbor claimed she'd wear it. "You would NOT!" I rebut. "I think I would," she asserts. "Not even," I say. The Neighbor still looks convinced and I try to imagine any scenario in which I've ever seen her where she might wear such a thing and then I think, "Oh, of course, to Gay Bingo. When the theme has something to do with blankets".

The Judging
Seth Aaron has done a plaid, zippered dress that reminds my friend, DC Karen, of the yellow plaid dress Jeffrey did a few seasons back. The judges think it is "fun" and Nicole Ritchie "appreciated the back". MAB says it is something I would totally wear.

Anthony has made a dress with an appendage on the side, which Kors notes would be good for stealing champagne bottles from a party.

Ping's design was declared "a show in itself".

Kors says Jesus' gown looks like a crocodile trunk exploded and the judges agree it might have been more successful as a short dress. Jesus concedes he had considered that and Heidi shouts, "AH HA!" (The Neighbor asks, "Do you think he will go home for the crocodile dress?" I reply that anyone who disregards The Gunn deserves punishment).

Emilio gets kudos for a dress that is "deceptively simple". (Also, it is adorable and the color is fantastic).

Bottom 3/Top 3
In the bottom:

Christiane, who the judges said had "no theme, no vibe". Perhaps because her dress looked like a refugee from the Easter collection in the 1972 Sears catalog.

Ghetto Anthony, whose work they just didn't love.

Jesus because even though Kors noted a "sense of the unexpected in his design" they were not thrilled with the croc gown.

Top attention getters:

Seth Aaron, whose design made Heidi "want to know more" and who Nina praised for creating a "head to toe" look.

Ping, for crafting something "unusual" which "transported" Kors.

Emilio, for a sexy, girly dress that employed a "smart" use of fabric and impeccable technique.

We vote. The Neighb picks Jesus for the auf and Seth Aaron to win. I choose Christiane to lose and Emilio to take the crown.

I was right. On both counts. Yay me.

There were some other tidbits of note. The phrase "hanger appeal" has been introduced and I'm telling you right now that if it becomes a watch word Mama is going to whack someone. "Hanger appeal"? I have known plenty of clothes that look sensational on the rack and suck once donned. Let's not embrace this criteria, people. Please. And also, Anthony did this big dramatic gasp-and-become-rigid-with-relief nonsense when Heidi told him he was safe. It was so over the top that Heidi even said something along the lines of "Get out of here before I change my mind". Some people do confusing being a personality with having a personality. Too much of his showboating is going to leave me in need of some of Portland's meds.

Appropos of Nothing

2010-01-14T18:19:00.001-08:00

I just checked my site meter, which I never bother to do anymore because, well, for a lot of reasons. I'm averaging 43 hits a day. I can't believe there are that many people who still bother. Thank you.

Also, The Spouse stepped up and volunteered to make dinner which was really nice because I ran my arse off today. 6 bloody checkins, only 2 of them expected. And I was wearing boots. With heels.

4 Things

2010-01-14T07:09:00.000-08:00

I had a theme going and yesterday was supposed to be about three things but it was one of those days so now we're up to 4. It was one of those days because we had some teenage angsty drama with our Aussie. Long story. Suffice to say that our Aussie was very homesick (her mum told me that she probably wasn't ready to make such a trip) and has moved to another house where there is another student from her school. There were bits about it all that were very annoying but the good news is that The Child took it all very well (and not at all personally, which is good, since it wasn't) and frankly, it's nice to know that there's a three day weekend ahead wherein I will not be required to entertain someone else and can just veg.

The Cat is weird. Every morning, very early, she comes into our room, jumps up on my nightstand and drinks from my water glass. The "clink" of her collar on the glass wakes me up and then I instantly get very thirsty, which requires me to get up and get fresh water because, while cats are not known for being a drooly animal, who wants to drink water that has potential cat spit in it? Not me. I've tried leaving out a decoy glass but she always goes to the one nearest me. Every night. The Spouse has suggested a sippy cup.

My little Wii Fit friend informed me today that I am only 10 pounds from my weight goal. I love my little Wii Fit friend.

Project Runway is back! New season premiers tonight. Yippee! And also, skippy! Not to mention, it means I get to start work late on Friday because, as you know, MAB insists that I have my recap up before I come in to the office. I love my job.

Two Things

2010-01-12T19:46:00.000-08:00

I have faithfully played with my Wii Fitness Plus 20 days straight. I say "played with" because it sounds so much nicer and more fun than "worked out". But I have. And my center of balance is vastly improved and there has been some (minimal) weight loss but most important is I'm beginning to feel good things in my muscles. Like the glimmer of future toning. Which, as you may recall, is essential if I am to achieve my primary resolution for 2010, which is meeting Michelle Obama. Or, more to the point, not having my upper arms wobble when I shake Michelle Obama's hand upon meeting. (Because I'll bet that it would be a very bad thing if wobble arms whacked the First Lady in the face, causing Secret Service to dog pile on me and landing my wobbly arse on the 6 o'clock news. "Woman attacks First Lady with upper arm fat, after this commercial message". That is NOT how I want my 15 minutes of fame going down, people.

I got a government issued Blackberry today. Or actually, in the parlance - and I'm not making this up - a Blackberry was "deployed" in my name. Point is, I have it and now I'm trying to make sense of it. I did accidentally stumble on the place where one changes the ring tone and I set it to something sort 80s synth popp-y. And I figured out how to change the password. Because the one the phone tech dude gave me was lame. Point is, now I have something which enables me to keep work separate from private life and that's a good thing. Plus, I kinda look like one of the cool kids.

One Thing

2010-01-11T07:38:00.000-08:00

We're having a very nice time with our new Aussie. She doesn't eat seafood (which I find ironic given that she comes from a country with lots of coastline and is visiting the seafood capital of America). She does eat vegemite. Which I tried. Which is, as you no doubt suspect, quite foul. Unless you enjoy licking car tires. In which case, I'll make you a plate of hot buttered toast and you can tuck in.

Off Track Betting

2010-01-07T07:35:00.000-08:00

I have 24 hours to remove Christmas, mop the floors, dust for prints, unstick the sticky, do laundry, take out 412 pounds of recycling and create a sleeping space for The Child during the period when she is displaced by the bright, shiny, new Australian we're getting tomorrow. During that same period I need to earn money, eat, sleep and work out because I've lost 2 pounds already and mommy really wants to keep that up.

Anyone want to give odds on how I'll do?

Things I Have Already Learned This Year

2010-01-05T07:12:00.000-08:00

Don't neglect to wear shoes when working out. Even if you're working out with a computer.

The Coke from Canada doesn't taste as sweet as the Coke from Mexico.

I've become much more of a hardass at work than I was a year ago. Some people are just trouble and when you know it you know it. And when they are trouble you keep 'em on a very short leash. It's not my job to tolerate bad behavior. (Exchange from yesterday with a very unpleasant woman: Her: "I don't have time for a tour. Just give me the papers to sign so I can get out of here". Me: (politely but oh so firmly): "M'am, if you'd like to go over to the hospital first and take care of your husband's business you're welcome to do that. But you have to take the tour before you sign the papers and you have to sign the papers before you get a key. What would you like to do?")

It may sound like a good idea (ala Ben and Jerry's) to make a milkshake out of cherry pie (crust and all) but it will not be a success and it is OK to tell the well-meaning person who made the attempt that it is gross and should never been done ever, ever again.

Obligatory First Blog Post of the Year

2010-01-04T06:39:00.000-08:00

Lord knows I love the holidays but it's nice that a little window of normal is opening up before the not normal of the family being temporarily being increased by 1.

The Child will not get up happily this morning, of that I am quite sure. She went out on New Years Eve and had a sleep-over with BFF #2, came home around 5 on New Year's Day and then went to a birthday party on the 2nd which also included a sleep-over. She was veryvery tired last night and veryvery grumpy about my "forcing" her to finish the paper on Macbeth that she had all holiday to work on. (To be fair, it was mostly done but for the tidying up of editing but still). Point is, she will be suffering from the cummulative effects of her weekend.

The Spouse is just now leaving for his first day back at the office in 2 weeks. I think he's ok with it, so long as he can make coding seem like playing Call of Duty: Modern Warfare or Fallout.

On Saturday I was feeling a little resentful about my minimal amount of holiday time and about having to spend the weekend running errands, per usual, while The Family played and thinking about how I always have to spend the weekend running errands, per usual, while The Family plays and then it hit me. "Hey! I'm earning leave". So I decided that I'm going to take one Friday off every month. And those days are going to be just for me and whatever I feel like doing. (MAB won't like it. She hates it when I'm out of the office. But that's okay because I hate it when she is out of the office). The very thought of such a plan immediately brightened my mood and I finished all my errands quite happily.

So that's my number 1 resolution for 2010. The other is to keep using my wonderful little Wii Fit to get myself ready for meeting Michelle Obama in May. (Meeting Michelle Obama is resolution #3). I love playing with my Wii. I love that I've already lost a pound and am feeling more limber. I love that it is easy to stay committed because it's fun. Technology is a good, good thing.

So we're "back to normal" for a bit. Until Friday, when we receive our Australian exchange student for 2 weeks. The Child and I connected with her on Facebook and her mum friended me. We've had some delightful chats. I knew it was meant to be, though, when she referred to herself as "the worst mother in the world". "Oh, no you're not," I replied. "I am the worst mother in the world and I have the theme song to prove it!"

The Obligatory Year-End Reflection

2009-12-31T07:18:00.000-08:00

Best Trips:
Omaha, NB
Forks, WA

(Yeah, not exactly Paris or Rome but those were very, very fun weekends with my bestie Poodle and loin fruit, respectively).

Best Purchase:
Toss up between the French door fridge with two drawers OR the superfantastic hat Tanya designed for me.

Best Answer to Prayer:
Getting my job on a more permanent level.

Best All Around Thing to Be Grateful For:
The fact that while 2009 was a year of real struggle for so many we were gainfully employed, out of debt, not upside down in our mortgage and no one got swine flu. That's some serious blessing going on right there, my friends.

Best Songs of the Year (meaning, of course, my personal soundtrack):
"Poker Face" - Lady Gaga
"Sneaker Night" - Vanessa Hudgens
"Supermassive Black Hole" - Muse

Best Thing I Ate:
Gotta go with the osso bucco at Peter and Suzanne's anniversary dinner. Glorious.

Best Movie of the Year (meaning, of course, the one I liked the best for extremely personal reasons):
"Julie & Julia"

Best Outfit of 2009:
Has to be the little polka dot number with the boiled wool ruffled jacket that I got at Anthropologie for Ree and Jerry's wedding. Killer.

Greatest Accomplishment:
This is a three way tie between finding a great stylist which allows me to finally truly love my hair every day, beginning a fitness plan and sticking with it BEFORE the new year started and not murdering my teenage daughter. In fact, while I have ruled out murder altogether on moral and religious grounds, boarding school is still very much on the table.

A very happy new year to all of you in Blogopia! May 2010 be kind.

I Seriously Don't Know Where to Begin

2009-12-30T06:26:00.000-08:00

Must get tabs. Passed the emissions test and have been riding around with results for a week. Tabs expire Friday. Which is New Years. Must get tabs.

And caviar.

Champang-ya.

Cold cuts.

Black eyed peas. (Also download that "Tonight's Gonna Be a Good Night" song because it's very poppy and fun).

The Child will not be ringing in New Year with us as is going bowling with friends. Then will be gone most of Saturday at Sweet 16 party for friend. Which reminds me that I still haven't sent out invites for HER Sweet 16. Although I'm pretty sure I've done a verbal "Save the Date" thing with the people who matter most. Probably not, though.

Must leave work on time today. And tomorrow. No need to stay until 6 just because I can keep myself that busy. Need to focus on a few things at the casa. Like where the H the cat pee smell is coming from. CanNOT begin New Year with smell of cat pee in living room. (Have checked all the obvious places, which is why this is a very perplexing problem).

Get present for aforementioned Sweet 16-er.

Man, I hope someone cleans the kitchen properly today. And maybe folds that pile of laundry. It's nice that it's done but come on now. When I do the laundry I sort it by family member AND fold. This stuff is just sitting in a jumble like it's magically going to find its way into drawers and closets. And at the very least, the people who owns some of it might remove it from the pile and deal with it. Seriously. Washing and drying is only part of the process, you see.

I just know there is something else that should be on my grocery list. OH! Of course, sour cream and matzoh meal. Unless we have matzoh meal from last year. Although it would be stale if we did. So sour cream and matzoh meal.

Must shower.

I Hope the 21st Century's Teen Years Go Better than Mine Did

2009-12-29T06:52:00.000-08:00

Stina and I were talking on Christmas Eve about how we both have to have certain things done by New Year's Eve....things like the bills paid, the house swept and dusted, beds made, laundry done. We both have this notion that if we sit down to our caviar and champagne with these tasks accomplished it somehow sets the tone for the coming year. Not, mind you, that nothing will go wrong or that (I laugh) the housekeeping will always be done. It's more to do with the symbolic nature of Things Accomplished and of Setting the Stage for the coming year.

Also on my short list of things to do before New Year's Eve:

Reflect. (It doesn't feel like I've done much of that lately).

Buy aforementioned caviar and champagne (one of the best shopping trips of the year).

Set a goal or two. Nothing monumental. Nothing "resolution-y". Just setting some guideposts.

(Speaking of which, last night my little Wii thing-y told me that I had lost .2 pounds since I started my new fitness program. Must make room for the latkes and caviar, mustn't we?)

Do you have any end-o-the-year-start-o-the-new rituals?

On the Third Day of Christmas I Had to Go Back to Work

2009-12-28T07:11:00.000-08:00

I am very thankful that I love my job because I would be ever so sad right now if I didn't. We had a very nice Christmas day and a very nice Non Sans Jammie and a very nice yesterday and I kinda wish I could stay home some more. In fact, I feel, right this very minute, precisely the way I felt on the first-morning-back-to-school-after-Christmas-break. Likely one of the top 10 most horrible feelings you can feel (which is not to be confused with the Top Ten Truly Most Horrible Feelings List, which is composed of truly bad stuff no one would ever ever want to feel).

I don't feel like dressing up (even though we don't really have a dress code and I'm sure it will be fine with MAB if I show up in jeans). I just want to sit here and drink delicious coffee. Then later I would want to play with my new Wii Fitness Plus which I asked for and received for Christmas which I already like very much. Turns out that I have a normal BMI, which was nice to hear, but I do need some tone and balance. (I so favor my right side, it turns out, that when I try to balance myself with the little yellow sphere on the system I have to shift my weight so much to the left that it feels unnatural. But once I realign my balance I should have improved posture and perhaps even begin to glide when I walk like a princess or something).

Poo. No time for this. Must get dressed, even if it is only jeans and a jacket. The sooner I leave this house of slumbering, vacationing people the better I'll no doubt feel. Have a lovely day.

Simply Having a Wonderful Christmastime

2009-12-25T10:30:00.000-08:00

And at first I wasn't so sure that would be the case. It is, I suppose, silly to think that people will be nice to each other just for the sake of the day. I mean, I think they should make the effort but that's just me. Point is, yesterday was not a banner day in the household and I was beginning to think that calling off Christmas this year would be a good thing. That or running away to Italy. By myself.

From what I understand, it is perfectly normal for a father and teenage daughter to go at it hammer and tongs. Lord knows, I did with my father, Sean Connery. The problem is, aside from the noise level and the vibes of acrimony, most of the time it just seems so unnecessary.

But just when I was thisclose to despair, quite sure that no civil conversation would ever again be heard in our home, people calmed down, had that civil conversation and spent what was left of the evening in harmony and peace. Which is sort of the point of Christmas and since we are a family that claims to care about that, it was nice to see us actually acting like, uh, Christians.

And at least for this moment (because we must remember that expecting consistent maturity from a teenager is just plain silly) The Child is being quite lovely. Like instead of waking us at O-dark-thirty she got up, made coffee and unloaded the dishwasher. And when I got up she asked if she could help me finish the brioche. Love. That.

Anytinsel, I must away to the one grocery store that I know is open to fetch just a few things for tonight's dinner and then I'm going to take my traditional Christmas nap.

I hope you are all merry and bright and that your Christmas is white, in moderation. (A wish that is already too late for those of you under the Christmas Blizzard of '09. I hope all of you stay especially warm and safe today!)

Happy Christmas.

Oh Damn, Guess What I Forgot?

2009-12-24T12:46:00.000-08:00

I just got back from my last little run of Christmas errands. Some things are purposely left until the last minute...like fetching delicious bread from the bakery for tonight's soup supper (pumpkin chili this year). I put The Waitresses "Christmas Wrapping" on my iPod, since I was pretty sure it wouldn't be coming on NPR while I was out and about. That song always makes it feel like Christmas Eve.

The house looks like it blew up, all the packages need to be wrapped and I have to start the olive oil brioche for tomorrow night's dinner. Oh, and I have to be at the Cathedral by 4 at the latest to save seats for Mass. So yeah, I'm feeling a bit of a crunch right now. The Child set out to make a Buche de Noel for tomorrow. Her meringue mushrooms are very cute and the espresso chocolate filling is a dream. But her first attempt at rolling the log resulted in something very unloglike and for some reason her Swiss Buttercream frosting won't fluff so now she's just going to make a chocolate layer cake with the espresso filling and decorate with the mushrooms. But it will taste fantastic and the only thing that has her upset at the moment is the fact that The Dog managed to snag and chew on one of the sides of her gingerbread house. Oh well.

Time's a wastin' so I must scurry. But I do hope you have a lovely Christmas Eve. Don't forget the cranberries.

2009-12-22T07:09:00.000-08:00

One of the absolutely most delightful sensations in the world is to roll over in the middle of the night and unearth the second pillow, which is all cool and delicious from not having been slept on and rearranging one's head on it. Something about that cool pillow against a snuggly warm face is just too fabulous.

****

Lately I've been seeing little towheaded dumpling children skipping alongside their mothers and I want to run up to them and say, "Don't grow up and be mean to your mother!" They wouldn't listen and the mothers would just be freaked out so I don't do it.

Which is all to say that there are days when I really miss my little towheaded dumpling child who used to worship me and always want to snuggle me and have me read with her and talk about all the things she thought were important in the world.

But by the grace of God, just when I think I can't take the snarling, pouting, door slamming sylph one more minute without teaching her the proper meaning of the term "bitch slap", she does something so adorable or funny or even, shockingly, mature and I think, "This too shall pass".

Of course, now whenever I heard some young bride talk about how much she wants a baby I am very tempted to say, "Yes, but do you want a teenager?" Because somehow that part of the package is always left out of the sales pitch.

***

It was really cold last night but it didn't snow. Guess all that is being saved for Nebraska. Sorry kids.

A Public Service Announcemnet & Some Other Things

2009-12-21T06:52:00.000-08:00

This morning a cursory glance at my calendar informed me that Christmas is on Friday. For many all over the world, this is a day of joy and feasting. Owing to the particular nature of the feast, something of a fuss is usually made. If you haven't already, you might want to get started on that.

Recent Accomplishments:

The Child's God-mom had called a few days ago and I only called her back on Friday. And left a message. So she called me back on Saturday. First words out of her mouth were, "Is everything ok with you guys?"

"Yeah, why?"

"Well, you're usually so good about returning calls and I started to worry".

"I was good at returning calls right away when that was all I had to do," I replied. "Since I've gone back to work I've gotten good at returning calls sometime in this decade".

Fortunately, she understood.

That said, I did manage to accomplish some not-work-related things this weekend:

I reviewed all the Christmas presents that have been purchased over the last 2 weekends and have everyone covered. (I also, truth be told, picked up a few little stocking stuffers for myself because I am so easy to buy for).

The menu for Christmas dinner is planned and groceries purchased.

I took the pile of hand-wash-only laundry that has been sitting on my dresser for over a week and laundered it. (In a pillow case, on "delicate"...I"m not insane).

I cleaned my room. (It's his, too, but the mess was mostly mine...which is kinda amazing, giving The Spouse's propensity to just drop stuff wherever. (A trait, btw, which is genetic and has been passed on to The Child).

I put new flannel sheets on the bed; sheets that I purchased for a screaming deal at Costco last week and which have been sitting in their package, on the dining room table for that long).

Sent out evites for Sing for Your Supper.

****

We watched "Clueless" last night, as that is the only movie with Brittany Murphy in it that we own (or, frankly, that I have seen). She was no Heath Ledger, but it is very sad when any young person goes before their time. Last I heard prelim reports were that it was natural causes and sad as it is, I hope so because it's one thing to die tragically and quite another to die stupid.

***

I thought I'd lost my iPod but I didn't. That made me really happy.

***

19 years ago today The Spouse asked me to marry him. Spoiler Alert: I said 'yes'.

***

Both The Spouse and The Child are now officially on holiday until the 4th of January.

I am not.

***

Happy Winter Solstice!

A Time to Remember

2009-12-14T06:55:00.000-08:00

Today is the first anniversary of the passing of Mr. Stewart.

It's been a long year for Martha. She's had to walk a challenging road as she's rebuilt the form of her life. She sold and bought a house. She moved back to be nearer to family. She's taken classes and started an on-line business, fixed up her little cottage and started to pick up all the fragile pieces of her life.

She's done amazingly well, by the grace of God.

There have been very dark and lonely times. One doesn't lose a 28 year marriage and just "snap out of it". But she has had her girls and their husbands and her beautiful grandson to help her on the way. They've all helped - and continue to help - each other.

It's an amazing testament to the idea of family; that the founder of that family could be gone and they still hold as a unit. It's a credit to what she and Mr. Stewart created together. And a testament to Love.

On Sunday nights, after evening services, Mr. Stewart used to send his congregation forth with the charge to "go home and eat a lot of pizza and ice cream". So Martha decided that on this, the anniversary, that is what we would all do. Unfortunately, she lives far enough away from us that joining them would be difficult. So we are staging a "Pizza and Ice Cream Remembrance North". Jane Austin and her Mr. Darcy will join us and we'll phone in to the rest of the family.

This will not be an easy day for my sister and her girls. Please keep them in your prayers. And maybe share some pizza with someone you love.