Oct. 2: Birthdays and blog challenge review

Before I do anything else, I want to offer sincere apologies to two of my friends whose birthdays I let pass unacknowledged. I am greatly ashamed, and offer the following super-duper lame explanations.

Hawaii Laura, I don’t really have a good excuse but-cept that I was on Facebook for just a very short time on LaurApeber 30 and missed the reminder (not at all because I lost interest in the month after KimJenber/JenKimber ended). I contacted the Hawaii Department of Transportation and had these signs made and installed throughout the islands. My guess is that you’re too busy out paddling in the surf to travel via highways, so here’s a pic:

Margaret, I’m gonna use the hardly-on-Facebook-on-Monday excuse for you too, and add that I’m also kind of a jerk. I rented out letters and space in the West Hills to apologize; here’s a picture in case you missed my message:

(This is obviously that one section of the West Hills in which there are no trees and also let’s pretend there was blue sky this week. Yes, let’s do that.)

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Blog Challenge Review Time

So. In September I challenged myself to blog every day. With one exception, I got a post up each day of the month, and it’s time to reminisce. Cue the music.

• It was fun, mostly in the beginning. By the end it was a little less fun and felt kinda chore-like.
• It prompted me to work on my blog design, which I hadn’t tweaked in a very long time. The background, the color scheme, the layout… it’s a big change. As it’s much bolder than I’ve had before, I’m not sure how long I’ll keep it, but for now I think it’s fun and cheery.
• It sort of prompted my mom to start her own blog. THAT might be the best result of all. Yay, Mother Mary! (Check out what she posted this morning—a tale about my mother in all her passive-aggressive glory.)
• There were days I felt extra-stressed to get a post written. Mostly those were the recipe days, in which I had nothing recently-made to share and knew I’d have to either make something or word the post so it sounded like I’d made it recently. My real accomplishment is that, except for the seasoning, the recipes I posted were made specifically for this blog challenge, but please do not ask me to do that again.
• (Why were there so many recipe days? Because I created this challenge with Sherilee, whose blog is deliciously recipe-heavy. I must have been drunk when I sent her my list of topic ideas and said, “Add whatever you want.”)
• I’ve tried bunches of different ways to write blog posts using my iPad, but nothing works as well as my tried-and-true method on my oh-so-cumbersome laptop. Knowing I would have to lug it out every single day was annoying.
• It definitely helped my chances of success to share the challenge with someone else. If I hadn’t been worried about the Wrath of Sherilee™, I may not have lugged out the laptop every day.
• (Sherilee is really not that wrath-y, but I know we would’ve given each other grief if either had failed.)
• I can’t make any promises, but there’s a good chance the desired result—getting back into a habit of blogging regularly—might actually manifest itself. Mission accomplished, right?

Thanks to all of you who tuned in throughout the month, putting up with my inane rambling and leaving comments here and there. ‘Twas cool to have you along.

Dec. 19: Wig report

Wig Day #1 went alright. Besides being kinda hot, I’d call the afternoon a success. When we went to The Nutcracker performance at the school Thursday night, I wore one of the newsboy caps Loveliest Lori got for me. I got lots of compliments, but I’m pretty sure most people would’ve said nice things even if they thought I looked like a giant dork, because the people I know are nice and also, occasionally, pants-afire-liars.

When I got home, my wig was so far back, the bangs no longer lay on my forehead. What did I tell you? I knew something embarrassing would happen. I can just imagine Jenn K and Sabrina, who were sitting behind me at The Nutcracker, thinking WOW, JEN MUSTA PAID EXTRA TO HAVE A WIG THAT ACTUALLY GETS LONGER AS YOU WEAR IT. I was like that doll, where you twist her arm into ungodly positions to make the ponytail grow out the top of her head.

Clearly, there is work to be done getting the wig to stay where it’s supposed to. Any recommendations? I’ve got my eye on a Costco case of Super Glue, or at least a pulley system of some sort.

Wig Day #2 was yesterday. It was a fun Christmas-y shopping day with Random Sunshine™, and only a few moments of wig embarrassment. The first (and worst) was when we were in The Blue Butterfly—one of the cutest stores EVER, by the way—and, without thinking or looking around first, I yanked hard on my bangs to make sure the wig was where it was supposed to be. A second later I looked up to see the store owner looking right at me. Totally not humiliating, right? Because I don’t go in that store, like, every week…

The only thing I really, really, really dislike about the wig, besides the fact that it feels like friggin’ Barbie hair because it IS friggin’ Barbie hair, is that I get sooo hot in it. And I don’t mean “hawt,” I mean “hot” as in profusely-sweaty-wig-sliding-back-Barbie-hair-melting-down-my-face hot. Would it be very noticeable if I wore a pack of Blue Ice under the wig? Cuz I really think that would help.

I’m not going to do Wig Day #3, #4, etc. blog posts. We’re done with wig reports for now, unless something even more humiliating happens that I feel the need to report to the Internet. Do not fret—you know it’ll happen. This is ME we’re talking about.

Feb. 21: I can make fire naughty

So, I went on Jack's field trip Tuesday. The kindergarteners went to a new fire station in the area. They always ask for lots of parents to come along as chaperones because apparently little kids can really get out of line on these trips.

They didn't count on us.

The depravity began before we left the school, when one of the moms (not me) asked if she could slide down the fire pole. And it got worse. It got much, much worse.

In admittedly weak defense, it is impossible for someone like me to be expected to tour a fire station without giggling. And it became obvious on Tuesday that a few other moms are also someone like me. I tell you, the "that's what she said!" opportunities were endless. We were shushed many times, even by the kindergarteners.

You say immature, I say devilish. Let's call the whole thing off. 'Cuz either way, I doubt I'll be asked to chaperone again.

Meh.