Lau, ana lapule translates to design Sunday.
Sunday, August 31, 2008
Friday, August 29, 2008
Heidi, Amy and me. We were already cackling at this young age.
Wednesday, August 27, 2008
My entire family is here with me. We have been playing at the beach and laughing till our sides ache. In keeping with his track record, my younger brother ruptured his eardrum while diving. What can I say? It's the luck of the Scottish.
We celebrated Thom's fifth birthday with everyone today. I tell ya, he must be some kind of spoiled child to celebrate his birthday in a pavilion overlooking one of Maui's most beautiful beaches. We ended the day with a luau. It was too windy for birthday candles, but the fire dancing more than made up for that.
Humuhumunukunukuapua'a: The reef, rectangular, wedge-tail, or Picasso triggerfish, also known by its Hawaiian name, humuhumunukunukuāpua'a, or just humuhumu for short; meaning "triggerfish with a snout like a pig", is one of several species of triggerfish. Classified as Rhinecanthus rectangulus, it is endemic to the salt water coasts of various central and south Pacific Ocean islands. It is often asserted that the Hawaiian name is one of the longest words in the English Language and that "the name is longer than the fish."
Monday, August 25, 2008
Here are my earrings that she will be auctioning:
Sunday, August 24, 2008
Friday, August 22, 2008
Watching the pest control guy through the blinds when I let Finn into the backyard and he races toward him. It's evil, I know. But oh so funny.
Seeing someone get hit in the achilles tendon by a shopping cart.*
Hearing children swear. (Really bad swear words excluded.)
There are a few more that I can't think of right now. I'm immature, I know. But sometimes, I little laughter goes a long way, even if it is at someone else's expense.
*I don't, however, find this at all funny when it happens to me.
Thursday, August 21, 2008
I have been thinking lately. I have been thinking, that is, about food, specially sweets, because this is what I do when I try to diet. I think about sweets ALL THE TIME.
So I was thinking about Eve. You know, Eve of the Bible. Quite frankly, I'm not buying the forbidden apple story. I have serious doubts that it was any kind of fruit at all. I mean really, she choose to fall from grace over a piece of fruit? Was it sugared or poached? Was it served à la mode? I think what the bible really means by "forbidden fruit", is the fruit of the labors of a baker who was indeed an angel and thus made the most heavenly, most delicious confections to be found. I'm guessing it was chocolate, some kind of moist, gooey, rich dark chocolate ganache torte. That would do it.
I have a small confession to make. Yesterday, or really since I posted on Tuesday and mentioned coconut cupcakes, I have been craving them. I had a moment of weakness and broke out the muffin pan. I made myself feel a little better by taking half of them to a friend who is nursing and was just told she can't have chocolate anymore. I ate one after dinner last night and another first thing when I got up this morning. I am a weak, foolish woman when it comes to sweets. Thank goodness Thom just finished the last one.
Wednesday, August 20, 2008
So it only stands to reason that I would be with him when I got my first ever speeding ticket. I've gone twenty-two years with no tickets, but as soon as I drive around with my charmed brother, some cop decides to pull me over. Evidently I was going 57 in a 35 zone. And there was the small matter of my expired proof of insurance and past due registration. I didn't take it too hard. After all, I had eluded the authorities for two decades.
So, here's a little tip for ya. When the officer writes your court date on your ticket, you may want to take it seriously. Apparently, this is an actual legal court hearing that you must attend and they don't take a spin class as an excuse. I actually totally spaced my court date and didn't even remember until a few days later.
Thom and I went to traffic court so I could clear up my little, now getting bigger, legal matters. We took a number. We waited next to the chain smoker who wasn't quite sure what to do with his hands without a cigarette to occupy them. We waited for 30 minutes.
I was informed by the contrite little man behind the counter that my fee would be $1,400. At that point, I had to do some major clenching for fear that I would loose my bowels right there in traffic court. After some meager attempts at flirting and leaning on my forearms to create cleavage (desperate times call for. . .) I haughtily handed over a check and said to Thom, loud enough for Mr. Traffic to hear, "Let's get out of this nasty place."
All this took place over a week ago, but I'm just now able to talk about it without a hateful, smarting sensation rushing through my body. Next week we go to Hawaii with my brother. The motto on our family crest translates to "Forget Not". Believe me, I won't be forgetting. I plan to give him a wide berth while we are on the island. I can just see me losing a digit to the beak of an octopus, choking on a lump of poi or more likely, getting arrested for trespassing.
If you are thinking of buying some Secondsister jewelry, now would be a good time. My bank account is a little depleted if you know what I mean.
Tuesday, August 19, 2008
Monday, August 18, 2008
Lately, I'm really in The Zone. In case you are unaware, The Zone is when you come to a time in the life of your child/kids and you no longer have to be Supermom, with bionic hearing and lightening quick reflexes. You loose the bulge in your biceps you got from constantly carrying a child around and the olfactory glands that once allowed you to distinguish your own kids poop from everyone else's kids at Disneyland shrinks back to it's normal function. You start to think about wearing white pants again. That's where I am. The Zone.
Anywho, you'd think I'd be thrilled to be here. After all, The Zone also means that you can remain parked on you butt, Diet Coke in hand at the beach while all your friends with toddlers, chase, wipe, comfort, pick-up, dig, change, rinse, adjust, follow, nurse and brush the sand off their kids. Me? I just bellow at the boy every now and then to make sure he stays in my sights. It's a wonderful thing. You'd think I'd be thrilled to be here.
But I'm not. Nope. I want a baby. I miss babyland. I wish I could go back in time and spend just one day with Thom as a one-year-old. In between the running around and supermom work, there are moments of pure joy. I want that again.
Sunday, August 17, 2008
I recently found this wonderful little book with simple patterns for making various aprons. I tend to like vintage patterns, especially bib aprons that cross in the back, but it is full of fun projects both modern and vintage inspired. One of my favorite projects is an apron with a tea towel sewn into the waist band to wipe your hands on. Talk about useful.
There are also some really great books on collecting vintage aprons and the culture behind aprons. Yes, aprons have their own culture. Check out Amazon for these fab books.There are also a ton of super talented women making and selling their own aprons. I bought this one through Sundarose and I wear it all the time.
Check out the following links if you want to join my apron revolution. My motto is this: Aprons have nothing to do with repression. They are really about sensibility, fashion and self expression.
Angry Chicken has more links for new vintage style handmade aprons.
Friday, August 15, 2008
My word, is August half over already? We have been busy, busy, busy around here. My crape myrtle finally bloomed for the first time. Isn't it beautiful? The last few tomatoes are dangling on the vines and the grapes are ripe and delicious. A back-to-school buzz is in the air. People are buying pencils and crayons. Backpacks seem to already be picked over, only the boring colors are left.
Thom won't start until after Labor day which gives us just enough time to fit in a late Summer family vacation to Maui.
I am getting excited to debut my Fall jewelry collection. It may include some island inspired pieces. Keep your eye on my shop around mid-September.
Wednesday, August 13, 2008
The curious thing for me is that I am most creative in chaos. I try to keep my work bench organized. I really do. Every month or so I do a major clean up and put every thing in its place, but as soon as I sit down to work, things entropically end up strewn everywhere. I cook this way too, in a muddle of flour, butter, pots and pans.
I have realized lately that for me pandemonium spawns creativity. And yet, I continue to strive to keep things shipshape and June Cleaver clean. It is, quite frankly, an unrealistic ideal. I mean, seriously, who lives like this?
Someone with OCD no doubt.
The other funny thing is artificial nails. I have no desire whatsoever to have fake nails. Indeed, they would pop off the moment I hit the work bench, and yet, I see women with their nails all shiny and manicured and I think- man, that chick really has her shit in a pile (to use one of my little brother's phrases). The high gloss lacquer mesmerizes me. The fact of the matter is that they recently came out with a study that proved that artificial nails harbor all kinds of bacteria and disgusting stuff. And yet, if you are sporting fakies, and I see you around, I'm gonna think you really have it all together. That's just how weird I am.
Tuesday, August 12, 2008
Yesterday I ran with a seventy-one year-old Norwegian man named Allert. He runs with the Racy Ladies. Allert broads over the women runners like a kindly old grandpa. He makes sure we are hydrated and educated on routes. He makes sure we stretch after every run. We ran a dirt trail in the variegated shade of the tall eucalyptus trees and I listened to him talk of his emigration from Norway and his travels around America. Allert is slight man, lean and sinewy. He told me he used to be two inches taller. Last weekend, he placed second in his age category at the San Francisco Half Marathon. He has no intentions in slowing down or taking it easy in his old age. I wanted to hug this man who I had just met.
I am really enjoying trail running. Don't get me wrong- it is totally kicking my butt- and my shoes are a filthy mess, but I am having fun. I am, however, spending a senseless amount of time cleaning the dirt from under my toenails.
Now to a small bone I have to pick with my readers. The response I have gotten to the Top Rockstar contest has been- well, underwhelming. Come on people! If you don't have a blog, put it on your my space page. If you don't have a my space page, blog or web page, you are probably over the age of thirty, not super web savvy, may or may not wear Dockers and not really into hip new music sites anyway, so you are excused.
Sunday, August 10, 2008
The other day it finally hit me. I want a terrarium. Not a simple one either. I want a full on, Victorian glass and iron, free standing terrarium with orchids and ferns. Why, oh why can't I ever like the cheap solution?
The good ones start at around $300 and go up. It is an item I will have to save for and convince Sugar Daddy of it's artistic value. Wish me luck.
Friday, August 08, 2008
I am a total believer in yoga. I think it is extremely beneficial in reducing stress, losing weight, lengthening and toning muscles and preventing injury. I haven't been practicing lately because I have really been concentrating on aerobic exercise. I know that I need to get back into yoga to help with my weight loss, so today I went to class.
The public service announcement is this: at the end of class, when the yoga teacher turns on the hypnotic music and tells you to close your eyes and take the savasana (resting) pose, don't actually relax all the way or you may just fall asleep.
I woke up just in time to see the teacher leave the room. The thing that really sucks is that I really enjoyed the class and I was planning on going every week, but now I don't know if I can show my face there again. Did I flinch in my sleep? Did I droll, snore - or heaven forbid- fart, as I lay there? Did I look like a disheveled drunkard with my mouth open and yesterday's sunburn across my shoulders and chest?
I can't recall a time that I have ever fallen asleep in public before. So the question is- why am I so tired? Maybe I had so many toxins (ahem-Redbulls) in my system that they all leached out during my workout and I was left with no caffeine in my blood. If this is what life is like caffeine free, I'm staying on the sauce.
Thursday, August 07, 2008
Wednesday, August 06, 2008
We took a weekend trip to see our best friends from our law school days. They are like Army buddies to us. Friendships formed in the trenches are deep and lasting. They knew us when we didn't have two cents to rub together, when we were down and out. They were right there with us. Friendship between us really isn't a choice, they are family.
My computer crashed for the second time. I feel like Darth Vader. Shut my computer down and I'm just a blob of quivering flesh unable to function. It's scary really. I have been running to friends houses to check my email and such. The super "helpful" people at HP have told me that I must box up my computer and send it to them for diagnostics. I should have it back in an undisclosed amount of time. I'm so thrilled I could just gouge my eyes out.
I have been working on some ideas for articles for the Top Rockstar blog. I'd like to do some interviews with some fairly successful indie artists.
And I'm running. I need to lose about ten pounds of muffin top and I have found, for me, the fastest way depudgify is to run like hell. I joined a group called Racy Ladies. I'll be running 5-7 miles with this group twice a week. They are trail runs and I find them really challenging. I plan on running a long (8-12) mile run along the coast on Saturday mornings.
Running is in my blood. My father has run for years. He does marathons, ultra marathons and super long trail runs. He is amazing. He and I are alike in that we really don't enjoy organized races that much. I ran a marathon a few years ago. I won't do it again. It wasn't the distance, it was the people. I can't stand the hype. As mean as it sounds, when people cheer from the sidelines, I just want to cover my ears and get away as soon as possible. I'll run the distance again, I'll just start from my front door and run with my dad.
My little sister convinced me to run in the North Ogden Cherry Days race on the 4th of July. I only agreed because my whole family, minus my older sister and mom, were running. I ended up having a good time, even when I ran the wrong way (evidence of my directional impairment).
The contest for the $50 iTunes gift card is still going (see previous post). Help me spread the word! The soft launch is August 15th.