I Sheet You Not

Last night my back was bothering me quite a bit, letting me know it was time for me to stretch it out. The fact that it was 11 PM may have been a factor in that. I finally locked down and went to bed, and as I laid down I gave a sigh of contentment. I can pretty much sleep anywhere, as long as my lower back has some support, like from a small pillow, if need be. No, what made me sigh in contentment were my 600 count sateen sheets.

Ahhhhh!!!

Trust me when I say, there is nothing quite like the feel of high count sheets. (Ok, maybe there is, but this is a family friendly blog, so keep it to yourself!) A couple of weeks ago, I had put a set of sheets on my bed that I had purchased back in 2000 or so. I went to bed that night, and felt like sandpaper was scratching my skin. I got up, took them off, and put a high count sheet set on my bed, consigning that other set to the donation pile. From now on, nothing less than 450 count will ever grace the mattresses in this house.

Some people may think that’s a bit high maintenance, but trust me: it’s like sleeping on a cloud. Besides, I’m totally worth it! 😉

Project Runway

No, this has nothing to do with the show. So, if you found this blog because you were searching for the latest Heidi Klum favorite, or Tim Gunn savaging of young wannabes, you’re out of luck. This is about my birthday, which is coming up in a couple of weeks.

I don’t have much luck during my birthday. I don’t make a big deal out of it, either. But it’s a bit hard to take when family forgets sometimes. It’s even worse when you get a used appliance for a gift (“Well, you liked my travel iron so much I decided to give it to you for your birthday!”), or even when you get a gift you had given someone, still in its original gift wrap.

But this year will be different!!

I have decided to celebrate my birthday, on my own. New dress, new shoes, new attitude. I will celebrate that I’ve had another wonderful year on this rock, and be grateful for all of the ups and downs, the good and bad. I will walk the runway like I own it, no matter that there is a run in my stocking or even if the heel breaks off my shoe and I become fashion roadkill.

True fashion roadkill, on many levels....

None of that will matter, because I’ll have made it to the runway.

Nitpicking

Well, yesterday was my tri-annual trip to the dentist. I go three times a year because I tend to be more susceptible to plaque than most people.

Too much info, I know.

Anyway, yesterday’s visit was with a new dental hygienist. I will call her Olga. No, I’ll call her Brunhilde. Anyway, I was to be tended to by Brunhilde, who was fresh from dental school. Now, I don’t mind being anyone’s “first” guinea pig. Everyone has to start somewhere, right? Brunhilde was a nice gal. She was very talkative, and by “very” I mean she asked a lot of questions. That’s not very conducive to a successful dental cleaning. But she took everything in stride, and was very funny.

I needed the sense of humor, trust me.

She began by asking me if I would like a deadening gel. I have never needed one before, and told her so. She shrugged and said ok, and began what I like to refer to as “The Reckoning”. I call it that because I reckon she got to scrape under my guns at least 75% of the time. By mistake, not design. By about the tenth time of that, I put up my hand, and when she sat back, I asked her for the deadening gel. And by “asked” I mean begged. I was trying very hard not to cry, but she had a gift for unerringly finding my nerves. She got a swab, and proceeded to spread the gel all along the gumlines. Unfortunately, my tongue was also along the gumlines. I began to feel the familiar swelling that come with Novocaine™. Pretty soon this should no longer bother me, right? WRONG!! My tongue was numb, but the inside of the gums was still having a party. And the worst part? I couldn’t talk well enough to let her know. I laid there, praying she would ask me if I was feeling ok so I could shake my head “no”. Finally she stops and says, “Ok, time to floss and then polish!” I smiled weakly and mumbled that I was sore.

She asks, “Did you just call me a wh*r*??”

I shook my head frantically, trying once again to be understood. Thankfully, she got it, and laughed at what happened. I was still mortified when the dentist came in to do his check-up. When I left, she thanked me for letting her do the cleaning, and asked what she could do differently to make it more comfortable. Of course, I had to tell her!

1. Don’t ask the patient questions during the cleaning. Just keep the conversation as general and monosyllabic as possible, and not too many funny jokes, or the patient will choke!
2. When using the gel, make sure to swab each gumline thoroughly, and reapply gel to swab before continuing. Also, move the tongue out of the way first!
3. Watch for body language. Gripping the chair with white knuckles is a clue.

She was very glad to get my input, and I already made my next appointment with her for next time. After all, I did break her in 🙂

The Habit of Beauty

Beauty is a relative term. I don’t claim to have it, or have had it, or even had a passing acquaintance with it. But I do admit to wanting to stem the aging tide as much as possible. Vanity may not be a strong vice with me, but she’s still there, poking me with a stick. Why? Because she can.

Even so, we all have our little habits when it comes to our bedtime. Wash our face, brush our teeth… that kind of stuff is second nature. I have a little basket on my nightstand that holds my favorite money wasting beauty tips. Shea hand cream, and footsie cream, too… argan oil lip balm…. Dead Sea eye cream….and yes, even perfume.

Perfume?? Well, yes. Look, I know dang well it does nothing to keep you looking young. But it makes me feel nice, and pretty, and feeling young is just as important, if not more so. And that, my friends, is the true secret to looking young 😉

It’s the Little Things

Last night I had to make an emergency run to the grocery store because I had just run out of milk. I don’t know what it is with the kids, but lately they have been drinking milk like it’s going out of style. I had also run out of creamer for my coffee this morning, but since I use milk when I’m out, I hadn’t thought to get more. Well, that was shot, so of course I had to go to the store for sure! Anyway, after fighting with the fridge rack to let go of the last bottle of non-fat hazelnut (I give up fats, not sugars. I’m not stupid), I start walking to the front of the store to pay for my foodstuffs when I saw this:

I do ♥ me some Shiner, and I do enjoy their seasonals. Well, it is October, so I figure this is a sign. Beer is food, right? I thought so. So, I grab a six pack, and finally come to the register to check out, and surprisingly, the gentleman asks to see my ID. Well, ok… I show him my ID, and he proceeds to ring up the rest of the groceries. And then I see this:

Did you read that?? “Appearing under the age of 40″!!!! He carded me because I LOOK YOUNGER THAN 40!!!!

WINNING!!!!

Diva on Hold

Like every woman, I have an inner diva. She is bedecked in baubles, and frilly frocks, and pretty shoes, all the time. Even in bed. This diva rarely comes out. Maybe once a year for the Holiday Ball, and perhaps on days when I am making a casserole for dinner and baking a cake for dessert. I do wear my pretty aprons and pretty shoes and pretty jewelry then. Ok, I wear pretty jewelry to do laundry. I seldom go out, so I have to wear it when I can. Some of you do it too, I bet.

The dream....

Anyway, I had to put The Diva on hold again. The first time was with Eldest. She needed a long evening gown with a “tail”, for a runway show. We searched high and low, and finally found a divine creation that fit her well. A divine creation by Badgley Mischka. Now, on my List of Things to Do Before I Die™, I have this at #53: own a gown by Badgley Mischka. But who gets one before I do?? Yeah, I let it go after a few months minutes.

I thought the designer stuff was over with, since Eldest is pretty good about keeping to off-the-rack and vintage stuff. But of course, I have three children. And this time, my son was in need. His orchestral attire consists of a black suit. Now, for some people this is easy peasy. But he is so tall and thin, I finally had to resort to going to a men’s store, where the suit and pants could be tailored to fit. We find one that is close enough to his size to need only a few alterations. A suit by Michael Kors.

It’s like the Universe was laughing at me.

But like any good mom, we do what’s best for our children. Designer clothing isn’t the norm for my kids, but sometimes one has to make exceptions. In both cases, I either had earned discounts or the item was on clearance, so that helped tremendously. Still, my wish for a Diva outing has to stay on hold for a while.

And the reality...

Besides, the Reality is soooo much more comfortable 😉

Finding Your Center

I am not the most competitive person on the planet. In fact, sometimes I frustrate Hubby because I am content to participate, but not necessarily yearn to win, be it a board game, or playing outside, or even playing cards. Heck, you can forget about dominoes!! His grandfather was a champion, and wrote a book on the game!!

Sometimes, though, I do like to win.

I remember back in 7th grade, our PE teacher, AKA Attila, decided we girls were not to play manly sports. As you can possibly imagine, that pronouncement did not go over well with the female contingent. But no one listened to the students back then. Anyway, Coach Attila gets it into his head that we little helpless females will learn archery. He honestly thought it was a girls activity.

We start to practice, and some of us discover we have an aptitude for it. Breathe in, find your center, pool the quiet, and let go. There’s something about the twang of the bow as you let go a sharp projectile aimed at an imaginary picture of your coach. Some of us were so proficient, that the guys who were off playing flag football asked if they could try it.

All of them got trounced, including Coach Attila. That was an awesome day.

Fast forward to 2004. While on a visit to Poland, we stayed at Zamek Kliczkow. One of the oldest castles in Poland, it had been converted into a hotel. And on the weekends, they had archery demonstrations.

The Archer was situated in what was once the moat, and invited all to come down and try their hand at bows and arrows. We all went down, since the kids were agog at the medieval trappings on display. First up was Hubby, and he did pretty well. And then it was my turn….

That is my archery trophy, presented on my birthday, courtesy of Eldest when she was only 9 years old. The only trophy I will keep forever.

Sometimes winning is the only thing 😉

When Patience Pays Off

I’m not a vain person by any stretch. Well, everyone has vanities. And so do I. But most people that know me know I am a very patient person. I really don’t mind waiting for something, as long as it’s not a life-or-death situation.

Then I would get hasty.

Anyway, back when we were at our first duty station (which was in Hawaii, and I regret not enjoying it as much as I should have, because I missed being away from family <–disclaimer for Hubby), I had wanted a set of dishes from Williams Sonoma. I love that store. Yes, it’s a bit pricey, but sometimes they have really good sales. Anyway, the dishes were from the Brasserie Collection, and had red bands on the rim. And they never went on sale…

Fast forward to September 13th, 2011. Hubby and I were looking for some champagne flutes for my mom at the outlet mall, which also has a Pottery Barn outlet, which is owned by Williams Sonoma. My mother-in-law also had asked that I look for a special saute pan there, so we went in, and guess what they had on clearance??

ZOMG!!! MY DISHES!!!

And I bought eight six-piece place settings, for the price of two four-piece place settings!!! Not bad for a 16 year wait, huh? They also had some beautiful water goblets that complimented them rather well, but I don’t think I’ll be waiting 16 years for those. I’ll just make do with regular, run-of-the-mill glasses.

For now 😉

Born Yesterday

I firmly believe I should have been. Well, not literally. But I have an affinity for the 1940’s and 50’s. The music, the fashions, the radio shows, the comfort foods….and the *ahem* adult beverages. I swear, if I could channel June Cleaver, I would.

And sometimes, I manage to come so close!

A friend of mine makes these wonderful vintage aprons, and I just acquired my third creation!! All that is missing is a martini in my hand. Or maybe a Tom Collins. At least in my fantasy.

In reality, it would be Alka Seltzer 😉

Tactical Style

Laura over at Fetch My Flying Monkeys gave an account yesterday of her friend Richelle’s run-in with a racist @$$#*!&. We in the blogosphere were rightly incensed, appalled, and wishing that we lived closer to both Laura and Richelle so that we too could have the opportunity to unleash major fury on that @$$#*!&. Because y’all know we would have hunted him down like the vermin he is and wreaked havoc upon his sorry carcass until not even the vultures would have recognized it for carrion.

Whew….got a little woozy there for a minute.

Anyway, after expressing everything we would do to that low-life our anger, I went back to read the rest of the comments. I am so proud to be associated with such bloodthirsty wonderful people. But the last comment I read was from Mrs. Who, who had the awesomest link ever:

A TACTICAL CORSET!!!!! Two holsters, and webbing for attachment of modular pouches & tools for ammo. Oh, and if you don’t like black, they have custom fabric choices, including Steampunk prints with lace, and fashionable silks.

If that doesn’t scream my name, y’all are deaf. I get one of these, and Laura Croft will have nothing on me!!