October 28, 2008

Writer's Workshop Wednesday

Sigh.

I didn't do my homework again last week. Gaaawd, I am a worthless blogger. And now it's time for the excuses:

We had company this past weekend. Our friends from the far, far North came to visit. We trade off states each year and this year was their turn to travel, regardless of the fact that they would now be traveling with a 7 month-old (heh). We're jerks, I know. BUT, they did travel with a 7 month-old to a ridiculously clean house, which is why I didn't write anything last week. I swear, my house was cleaner this weekend than it's been the whole time we've lived here, which, le gross, but whatever.

When we spend time with Ryan and Leah, The Northerners, it's a party. We stay up all night, consume mass quantities of the booze, and do crazy impulsive things like drive two hours to a lake at 5am after staying up all night. While towing a boat.

This visit, there was no boat-towing, no staying up all night, and Leah was sober the whole weekend, but it was still a great time. It was crazy to see them with a baby, mostly, I think because we weren't around for any of the pregnancy, so last time we saw them we were all able to be immature and irresponsible and then this year, BAM! They grew up and made a kid. The baby was cool, real happy all the time and totally in love with our dog (which I always dig in a person--if you like Bella, you're A-ok in my book). It was fun to be able to play with her and then hand her back over to mom and dad when she (or I) got fussy or bored. It was really awesome to watch the sweet little family they've become. It's our turn to visit next year, and SK and I are already stoked to make a winter trip so we can check out the snow and the ice-fishing and watch as Leah flips her shit when Ryan straps baby to his chest and takes her out on the snow mobile. Hee.

And everyone who knew that The Northerners were coming this weekend, and that we were keeping a baby in our house for roughly 72 consecutive hours have all asked, "Awwww, see? Doesn't it make you want to have a baby now?"

The answer is still a solid, resounding NO. Get over it, people.

Also, we went to the Ray Lamontagne concert. UH-MAZING. Seriously. If you haven't heard him yet, you're missing out and I strongly suggest you go buy his new disc. The show was at a smallish venue and felt very personal and intimate. My only gripe was that he didn't play "Shelter," which is my absolute favorite Ray song and the song SK and I have said we will dance to at our (eventual) wedding. Other than that, though, the show kicked major ass.

So, Ms. Mama Kat, this week I write to explain why I haven't written. Is that copping out? A little, yeah. But I'd have written this post anyway and I liked the prompt so I figured, why not? I'll be efficient and roll it all into one nice little bundle. Also, as stated previously, I am lazy so this covers THAT.

In my less lazy moments I write for various reasons - it's cathartic, I enjoy feeling like I might have made someone laugh, it keeps me the tiniest bit tied to my one-time dream of being a famous journalist, and I like telling stories.

Sometimes I just get in the habit of only telling one a week. I'll work on it. Really.

October 21, 2008

Thanks for noticing

Some of you might have noticed my blog was down over the weekend--thanks for the texts; made me feel important. If not, then you suck yeah, it was down over the weekend.

Because I'm an idiot.

SK teaches high school. His kids are effing nosy. They thought it would be fun to Google his name and see what they could find. Guess what they found?

The first organic Google response when you typed SK's name into the Google bar routed you to this blog. Because a year ago I wrote a gushy post about how we met and our first date and I used his full name. Yaaaay me.

So I had to delete the post so that Google would see it was gone, and then go through and change his name in every post I mentioned it. Which was a lot. Like, almost every single one. Arg.

I hate high schoolers.

October 15, 2008

Writer's Workshop Wednesday

Hi blogland. My name is Cheryl and I am a loser who doesn't do her homework. Please don't judge me. One of the reasons is because I am busy working on tons of fun stuff for one of my very best friend's wedding and you can go HERE to see proof of that. The other is, well, I'm easily distracted. I love to read blogs, but sometimes get so caught up in laughing at all the funny things ya'll have to say, I forget to write anything myself. So really, it's YOUR fault. Quit being so dang funny and creative and interesting and GIVE ME MY LIFE BACK. I'd really appreciate it.

Tonight's homework from Ms. Mama Kat is to write about something I love to create. Since it's obvious that the thing I love to create is NOT regular blog entries, let's find out what it really is, shall we?

I love, love, wanna kiss it all over it's little face and maybe tickle it behind it's tiny ear a little, love to make Christmas ornaments.

Don't laugh.

I even gave them out last year as Christmas gifts.

Sigh. Ok, call me a dork if you must. SK does. BUT, he also sat with me last year, at the table in our apartment dining room, and decorated an ornament with me because he knew how much I hated to do it alone. And that, folks, is one of the many reasons I love this man. Because while he may not always understand how or why my obsessions manifest, he will sit with me while I indulge in one. AND he will even participate. Swoon.

So the ornament thing came about after my mom and I went to The Nutcracker Market, which benefits the Houston Ballet. It's sometime at the beginning of November each year and is a crafty person's wet dream. There are TONS of booths, selling all kinds of handmade stuff, like candles, soaps, Christmas decorations, food, and ornaments. We walked around the market and bought a few things and laughed at a few others and sampled all the snacks. After walking into our first ornament booth, I looked at a clear ball with snowflakes painted on and said to my mom, "I could make that!" The ornament was probably around $12 and after seeing dozens of booths peddling the same type of wares, I turned to my mom and declared, "I can TOTALLY make that!!"

We went to Michael's right after that, bought a few super inexpensive clear glass balls, some paint and some other pretty accessories and I got to work. I looked to magazines and Christmas linens and decor for inspiration. I got Chandra in on the fun and I am happy to report that I filled our whole (fake) tree last year with different sized glass ornaments.

I'll post pictures later on in the year, closer to Christmas. I have ideas for new ornaments this year, and I would LOVE someday to be able to open an Etsy shop and sell them online. However, since I have issues even staying focused enough to write about them (see first paragraph of this post), that someday is inevitably very, very far away.

October 13, 2008

I can't even do my homework...

...but I am now officially managing 2 blogs. Call me crazy, but really, that's my life.

I am a multi-tasker. Like, to the point where I get going doing so many different that nothing actually gets completed. Hey, I don't claim to be an efficient multi-tasker here.

I struggle with this daily because it's not as if I can come into work and get my hands into 20 different things and not actually finish anything, ever. I am learning to reign it in and actually tell my boss that, yes, I am swamped today, and no, I can't take anything else on. Because I have grown up in the past 3 years and have found that this is acceptable in the work place, my quality of work has improved and that makes me a happier person.

At work.

Do I apply this same time-management philosophy to my daily life?

Ummm, no.

Welcome to my newest project
. This is something I am actually going to HAVE to keep up with because I'm doing it to help 10 other girls stay informed on the details of one of the biggest days of my best friend's life. So, yeah, you can pretty much guarantee THAT blog will stay current. AND be super cute, because it's a representation of Sarah and Dustin, so duh, it's gotta be super cute.

And whaaaa whaaa whaa...I'm not crying about anything, so give me a break. I love Sarah and Dustin and I'm stoked about managing the blog. I just want to lay it all out there and let you people know what's going on in my world and why I might be a bit absent from this blog.

So don't judge me if it suffers. Undoubtedly, it will. Instead, just go see what I've done over here and be content in the knowledge that I am still alive and well and haven't tried to paper cut myself to death with a bridal shower invite.

October 8, 2008

Cute suit, but will it pass the Fruit Test?

I am finding some seriously awesome shit on the Internet today, people. It feels a little like Christmas, and I'm loving it.

Don't ask me how I found these places, because really, I don't know. I browse through various blogs and sites, clicking my little heart out, and end up so far from my original entrance page that I often find myself stunned, blinking at the page in front of my face, wondering how the hell I ended up on a site advertising bathing suits you'll look good in while holding fruit.

No joke. The site features videos of models in different types of suits performing different tests such as the "Stretch Test," and the "Frisbee Test," and they all play out pretty much exactly like they sound they would. And then there is the "Fruit Test," which, oookaaay, but HUH? It seriously is a girl in a cute bikini walking toward the camera and bending down to pick up an orange, and then tossing it into the air and catching it with a delighted smile, before turning around and walking back to the place she started, fruit in hand. I don't know about you, but I have never been bathing suit shopping and while picking a suit off the rack stopped to think, you know what? No. Not this one. No way could I look good holding an orange in THIS one.

Maybe that's just me, though.

While I was checking out the other suits and reading what tests they had undergone to be deemed wearable for the 2008 swimsuit season, I found the "Fruit Test," or variations of, applied to a number of different suits. Strangely enough, they were all modeled by the same girl. It makes me wonder if, when she went in for her audition, they asked about her talents and she replied, "I am into walking on the beach, smiling really huge, and drinking Zima. Frisbees freak me out, but you know what I am SO totally awesome at? Throwing fruit in the air and catching it!"

And thus, the "Fruit Test" was born.

Friends don't let friends drunk-email

Remember all the times you went out for a night of dancing (or watching other people dance, in my case) and drinking with friends? You wake up the next morning, reach over and grab your phone, see the "New Message" light blinking and immediately panic.

Who did I call/text last night??

Drunk-dials can be funny and harmless ("You're sooooo my BEST FRIEND! I totally looooove yooouuu!!"), but more often than not they lead nowhere good. The guy you broke up with because of the weird way he pronounced your name ("Hey Cher-ul")? Not so annoying 6 beers in, so how about we call him and tell him that? That of course leads him to believe that you want to work things out and maybe give it another go which is why he is calling you and leaving you messages at 9am on a Saturday.

Why didn't someone just take away my phone? Better yet, why doesn't someone invent a phone with a breathalyzer built-in, that way if I am obviously toasted, I can't dial?

Although it's not for a phone, Google is making strides in the right direction. I've never really jumped on the drunk e-mailing train, but I can totally see how this would be helpful.

Also, just so you all know, I am NOT a cheating floozy. The only person I drunk dial or text now is SK, so THERE. Also, sometimes Sarah. And occasionally Chandra. Aaaand sometimes Elizabeth. But that's it. So don't get your panties in a bunch thinking I still wake up on Saturdays, scrambling to figure out which ex-boyfriend I decided to tease and be cruel to the night before.

PS--Sometimes I also drunk dial my mom. What? You don't?

via Daily Tech
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