This morning, P.J. almost threw out what was- easily– the best part of today’s Tribune. It was the circular for the Grand Opening of Five Below, my new favorite five-bucks-and-under store (to which I have never been). It’s almost like Peej doesn’t even care about The Issues or Extreme Savings. Weird. Let’s review. Let’s do a close-up on that front cover, shall we? Okay, generically pretty girl, perhaps college-aged, happily wearing a Snuggie. Now, I can suspend my disbelief as well {Read More}
Before And After.
S.U.B.L.I.M.E. times infinity to the moon and back.
Is that not the best short fiction title EVER?
I was not kidding. I’ve recently begun a new project. Which means I’ve been talking about it nonstop and whining about it to my big sister. But not so much actually “doing” it. (We all have our process, right?) And it’s a big undertaking; I’m going to attempt to scan and file every single document of importance ever, so that future generations can marvel at my utter inability to throw away a napkin. Picture this- I’ve kept a scrapbook binder of {Read More}
31 is the new slightly-older-than 30.
OhKAY! Today marks the anniversary of D-Day, the founding of the YMCA, and the coronation of the German King Henry II the Saint. Way more importantly [personally/distressingly/not surprisingly] is my birthday. (It is also the birthday of my nephew Quinn, my cousin Eammon, and my favorite teacher Ed Udel. I think I’ve made my case. Also born today is David Abercrombie, founder of Abercrombie and Fitch, a brand which I have never worn- I’m about five…ish… years too old- but I’m {Read More}
Monkey in the middle…of my bladder.
An Open Letter To My As-Yet Unborn Baby… (Whom My Mother Thinks We’ve Found Out The Gender Of…) (But No, We’re Still Waiting To Be Surprised…) (Even Though I Kinda Think You’re A Little Girl…) (But Look How Accurate My Psychic Prowess Turned Out During The Last Pregnancy…) (When We Had Your Sister- A Girl. And Not A Boy.) (I Really Hafta Learn To Condense Before I’m In Charge Of Your Baby Book.) Hi, little baby. You’re 13 ounces humongo {Read More}
Get in the house.
Little kids. The traditional third anniversary gift is leather. The modern one is crystal, or- if one is feeling frugal- glass. I am giving P.J. none of these tomorrow. Instead, today I’ll regale everyone with one of the best Peej stories in the history of…maybe ever. (Although, when this tale occurred I was carrying an awesome leather bag and P.J. almost got his face smashed through glass. So to anyone who still feels that this blog has no tie-ins, well, I just {Read More}
A kiss for luck and we’re on our way…
Crazy kids. First off, a big ol’ smoochy Thank You to everyone who bloggily voted. As clichéd as it sounds, I was stoked to be a top five nominee…and surrounded by stellar loved ones/fans/readers with top notch internet service. Results next Sunday night! Meetcha by the Twitter feed. I’ve got anniversaries on the brain as of late. This past Friday was the 37th wedding anniversary for my folks Deb and Dave- or, more commonly, Mim and Pop. (I actually coined both {Read More}
It’s also All You Need.
I could use a little Valentine’s Day. Now, before a horde of angry and over-holiday’d anti-consumerist solo flyers attack me for my God Awful ways like so many rabid geese… …lemme ‘splain. The kind of Valentine’s Day I want is of the second grade variety. That’s right; first-rate, second grade. And here, in no particular order, are the five best reasons I have for wanting such a thing: 5. There is nothing in the world quite as awesome as having a {Read More}