After watching BBCs Perfect Private Parts last week, I needed a lift...this video did just the trick!
1.21.2010
1.19.2010
Freaking old people...
So "Grumpy" next door puts a bright light in her patio sensor light...we're talking spotlight style. The kind that turns night into day. The kind that makes it difficult for Fred to fall asleep because the sensor is crazy sensitive and constantly flashing on/off. All. Night. Long.
Fred's runs into Grumps and is all can you please adjust the sensor setting so it's less sensitive - and she's all I want keep sensitive for safety - and Fred's all well can you at least change to a soft bulb - and she's all I'm not paying for a new bulb - and Fred's all I'll buy one and put it in for you - and she's all but I want it bright for safety - and Fred's all HOA guidelines specify soft bulbs be used outdoors and it really makes it hard to fall asleep when a bright light keeps turning on - and she's all grump, grump, well you need to buy better drapes (raising her voice) grump-grumpity-grump - and Fred's all okay lady you can stop talking now I'm done talking to you, I tried to be nice but the conversation is over.
Yes, you read that correct Gumpy-old-lady wants us to spend over $100 on new drapes (black out, double curtain rod and sheers so we can let in daylight) because she will not follow the rules. We really tried to be nice. Even offering to spend the 3-bones on a new light AND install it, but she’s just the kind of person that will not be happy unless she gets her way.
The HOA will be sending her a violation letter…to which she will ignore…and be even more grumpy. And you seriously have to wonder, if we just snuck over and replaced the bulb ourselves instead of attempting to be nice...would she have even noticed?
P.S. This is the same woman that complains that her kids never visit...I know you find that fact just SHOCKING right!?
Fred's runs into Grumps and is all can you please adjust the sensor setting so it's less sensitive - and she's all I want keep sensitive for safety - and Fred's all well can you at least change to a soft bulb - and she's all I'm not paying for a new bulb - and Fred's all I'll buy one and put it in for you - and she's all but I want it bright for safety - and Fred's all HOA guidelines specify soft bulbs be used outdoors and it really makes it hard to fall asleep when a bright light keeps turning on - and she's all grump, grump, well you need to buy better drapes (raising her voice) grump-grumpity-grump - and Fred's all okay lady you can stop talking now I'm done talking to you, I tried to be nice but the conversation is over.
Yes, you read that correct Gumpy-old-lady wants us to spend over $100 on new drapes (black out, double curtain rod and sheers so we can let in daylight) because she will not follow the rules. We really tried to be nice. Even offering to spend the 3-bones on a new light AND install it, but she’s just the kind of person that will not be happy unless she gets her way.
The HOA will be sending her a violation letter…to which she will ignore…and be even more grumpy. And you seriously have to wonder, if we just snuck over and replaced the bulb ourselves instead of attempting to be nice...would she have even noticed?
P.S. This is the same woman that complains that her kids never visit...I know you find that fact just SHOCKING right!?
1.12.2010
11.22.2009
Getting a little crafty...
Hater of all things traditional.
And now I find myself...
sewing.
It's something I have always wanted to learn.
When I was a little girl,
my grandmother made a majority of my dresses.
So nearly a year ago I bought a completely rad sewing machine,
with every intention of making something.
But the completely radness of the sewing machine
had me completely afraid to give it a try...
until I saw this post.
And here I am,
two weeks later...
sewing.
And though the scarfs will not be perfect,
maybe even a little wonky...
they are handmade
by me.
And at least I know that
HOLY COW...
I can sew!
11.16.2009
Boxing leaves with cars...
These last few weeks have been a bit of a whirlwind. Why is it that as soon as November hits everything just speeds up…way too fast!? Let’s see, we started off the month in Hilton Head at the Concours d’Elegance. I am truly-madly-deeply NOT a car chick, but how could anyone resist this lovely lady.
And then we took our annual autumn leaf tour up to the North Georgia mountains, unfortunately we were a week or two late so we missed the peak colors. Of course, the tops of the trees were still gorgeous!
Finally this past weekend we celebrated as Manny Pacquiao made history. Now I know I have no personal connection to the Philippines and Fred is equal parts German & Filipino and 100% American, but I was certainly feeling a little cultural pride!
11.08.2009
10.10.2009
Sometimes no title is required...
If you enjoy...truckvetts
cut-off sweatshirts
great parenting skills
biker shorts
and um, handbags...
Well, I think you may also love my new favorite website...
I give you:
10.01.2009
How baby umbrellas are made...
theFred: Where is the umbrella thing?
me: The blue wrap thing?
theFred: yeah...
me: It's in my bag...why do we keep that thing anyway?
theFred: I don't know.
me: I mean what's the point...
theFred: smiling, to protect it from getting wet!?
me: laughing, it's an umbrella condom...so dumb, just toss it!
9.22.2009
Could be why I don't like flip-flops...
The hubby and I recently had a long discussion about a CNN article that reports a study showing spanking as detrimental to children. And though we have had the discussion previously, since we are getting closer to starting our own family I think we paid a little more attention.
The thing I want to point out about the study is that if found most spanking occurs in the South – conservative Christian…oh yes, welcome to the Bible belt where the tradition of “spare the rod, spoil the child” gets taken to the extreme!
We were both spanked, but Fred (born into a “non-Christian” home) was only spanked once.
One. Time.
Let that sink in…
ONE TIME!? I mean I cannot even count the number of times I was spanked. I was spanked with a hand, a belt, hair brushes (more than one of those were broken on my brother or my own behind), hand held mirrors (insert seven years bad luck joke [here]), shoes…and, oh yes, even a “switch”. Pretty much whatever was in my mother’s reach was fair game. And even as I kid, I knew a majority of those spankings were done simply out of frustration…like the time I was spanked with a flip-flop. A flip-flop. A foam flip-flop. May as well been a pillow.
ONE TIME…I’m still recovering from the shock!
I laugh about my spankings now. I mean what tops getting hit with a flippin flip-flop. But it’s those spankings that went too far that I remember. The frustration spankings. The ones that created bruises/welts and I remember getting dressed for school and picking an outfit that was sure to hide the…evidence. And that’s when Fred piped in; oh my…you were abused. No, no. NO. I think my mother did the best she could with the knowledge she had. It was a time when kids were seen not heard. And I was a rather opinionated kid…shocking, I know!
But I learn from the past. Discipline born from frustration teaches nothing. Nah-thing. Sometimes moms need to give themselves a time out. And my past is not one I want to repeat, so I’m thankful that Fred and I agree that that “rod” should be used very sparingly. Only with careful contemplation and only as a last resort. And considering the array of heels and lack of flip-flops in my closet, I’m sure our someday children will appreciate this as well.
The thing I want to point out about the study is that if found most spanking occurs in the South – conservative Christian…oh yes, welcome to the Bible belt where the tradition of “spare the rod, spoil the child” gets taken to the extreme!
We were both spanked, but Fred (born into a “non-Christian” home) was only spanked once.
One. Time.
Let that sink in…
ONE TIME!? I mean I cannot even count the number of times I was spanked. I was spanked with a hand, a belt, hair brushes (more than one of those were broken on my brother or my own behind), hand held mirrors (insert seven years bad luck joke [here]), shoes…and, oh yes, even a “switch”. Pretty much whatever was in my mother’s reach was fair game. And even as I kid, I knew a majority of those spankings were done simply out of frustration…like the time I was spanked with a flip-flop. A flip-flop. A foam flip-flop. May as well been a pillow.
ONE TIME…I’m still recovering from the shock!
I laugh about my spankings now. I mean what tops getting hit with a flippin flip-flop. But it’s those spankings that went too far that I remember. The frustration spankings. The ones that created bruises/welts and I remember getting dressed for school and picking an outfit that was sure to hide the…evidence. And that’s when Fred piped in; oh my…you were abused. No, no. NO. I think my mother did the best she could with the knowledge she had. It was a time when kids were seen not heard. And I was a rather opinionated kid…shocking, I know!
But I learn from the past. Discipline born from frustration teaches nothing. Nah-thing. Sometimes moms need to give themselves a time out. And my past is not one I want to repeat, so I’m thankful that Fred and I agree that that “rod” should be used very sparingly. Only with careful contemplation and only as a last resort. And considering the array of heels and lack of flip-flops in my closet, I’m sure our someday children will appreciate this as well.
...O-N-E (1) TIME!?...
9.15.2009
When pop music meets art...
Oh, this print from arrikworld
I don't know why I love this so,
but I do.
One of those artistic things...
odd, weird, painful, beautiful...like Lady Gaga's performance at the '09 VMAs.
And then the reality of it hits.
Some people shave away at the outside, forming themselves into
society's idea of perfection.
Other's shave away at the inside, working to find
their own version of perfection.
Those that consume themselves with the external,
also judge others based on the external...what is seen.
And those that consume themselves with the internal,
judge based on the internal...what is felt.
And I am...
a feeler.
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