2/10/2010

HOLY MOTHER-LOVING GOD.

I am famous.



Yep, that's my dirty bedsheets on the blog Casa Sugar. Just kidding, they are totally clean. Remember? Brian cleans his cleaning products. So, one of the editors from the site emailed me and asked permission to do the story and I just about made brown in my pants.

To view the entire post, click here.

And that pretty much made my life. Honestly, that is one project that I had glorious visions of in my head and by jove, it actually turned out ok in real life. And that never happens to me. What you didn't see is how me and Brian almost decapitated each other during the hanging of those fancy things. He hated me for trying to get it just right and I yelled at him for always trying to take his pants and both socks off at the exact same time. Seriously picture him trying to get after that.

There is a good chance that some randoms are reading over this blog now. Welcome new people! Is it cool that I broke out a fecal reference in the first paragraph? Moving on, I had a good cry tonight, made a veggie omelet, and confirmed that Jay-Z is the true love of my life.

Thinking about this for my next craft project:


The world is waiting for my next move.

2/04/2010

Well hello there, old friend.

Let's chat about New Years Eve, shall we? First let me set the scene. Before December 1st even, Brian and I get outside and like the jolly little homeowners we are, we put up Christmas lights like it was our job. All through the night. In the dark, in the cold. This year, we decided to go all out and we lined the driveway on each side and stuck the bulbs ever-so-carefully into the ground. Each one was perfect.

And then this happened.


And God has been crying white tears ever since. Like, I'm not joking. It's now February, and SNOWING AGAIN. 5 more delicious inches. Do you see how it covers up the windows? Even Santa doesn't like this much snow.

Any way, the white stuff didn't deter any guests from making it up for our annual and famous, New Years Eve soiree. I mean, I really out do myself. I basically don't touch the kitchen all year. I save it all up for January 1. And then I'm done again until next year. I'm kidding people. I'm baking a chicken pot pie tomorrow night. Easy.



So, the KC crew made it up and also my little Meliss and man-hunk, Brian. I was very flattered that they would make the trip from Chicago and it just felt so good to have them there.



I cooked, I talked, I prepared, I killed it in a fuchsia dress on the actual night. Actually, it looked like I KILLED a fuchsia hippo, and then fashioned a dress out of it's skin.

But all of the boys wore their finest ties. My Brian even strayed away from the Fisher Price My-First-Tie and actually bought a new one. His first new one since 800 B.C. He looked like a prince. The girls looked fancy in their dresses and damn the food was mouth-watering. Adult beverages were flowing, cards were delt, Fergie was on the TV and I was vomiting. Because of Fergie, not the adult bevies.



Hey! Even a baby came to my party! I feel sad because the only thing I had to offer him was an empty Squirt box to play with. All in all, it was a swell party. The night ended with everyone probably going up to their respective rooms to make out. Me, I was probably secretly down in the dining room shooting shrimp cocktail sauce up my nose through a stirring stick.

All my NYE pictures are located here.

I just totally made over my shitshow of a office/craft space and I'm feeling charged for a new year. Got a huge picture of my elderly Gramcracker playing the drums hanging right in front of me. Thank you and goodnight.