Archives for September 2010

Me Likey

I have no idea what this is, but it fascinates me (thanks, Ruth!).

Thank you and good night.

Booties, Booties, Booties

Okay. This isn’t really a post about booties.

But the title made me laugh, so I went with it.

Deep wells of maturity.

Several of y’all have asked if I’ll share the booties info that Melanie sent me. And yes, I’ll be happy to share, but I need to get all the links copied and pasted first. In the meantime, just know that I’m tickled to be able to encourage you (thanks to Mel) in your booties-related journeys. It warms my heart to know that my shoe struggle wasn’t just for me, my friends. It was for all of us. For the sake of our soles.

(I couldn’t resist the pun.)

(You’ll have to forgive me.)

(It was like a gift. Just sitting there for the taking.)

Anyway, I have some updates. And announcements. And stuff. And whathaveyou.

– There’s a new Laughing Cow $150 gift card giveaway that I just posted today. Feel free to hop on over and enter to win!

This post of Angie’s is a must-read. Absolutely beautiful.

– Shaun will be answering a bunch of questions about the Compassion Bloggers program over the next couple of days – including information about how bloggers are selected for trips, how effective the trips ultimately are, and all sorts of other fun stuff.

– You know how everybody was doing the choreographed dances at wedding receptions a few years ago?

Well, this video – from the wedding of Tony award-winning writer Lin-Manuel Miranda and his beautiful new bride, Vanessa – is a brilliant new twist on the reception surprise.

It makes me SO HAPPY.

They’re gonna have a blast at family get-togethers, aren’t they? (via Throwing Things)

Happy Friday, y’all!

And Go ‘Dogs!

The Laughing Cow – Post 3

This is sponsored content from BlogHer and The Laughing Cow.

When I went off to college I felt pretty good about my weight. Granted, I wasn’t thin by any stretch of the imagination, but I was healthy. I liked how I looked in my clothes.

But – and you know the drill – it didn’t take long for me to start packing on the pounds. And while I’d love to tell you a kicky little story about how I went home for summer vacation bound and determined to kick the freshman 15 in the teeth, the fact of the matter is that I was waaaaay past “15” at that point. I’d passed “15” sometime around Thanksgiving. Something about eating cheeseburgers and fries really late at night and developing the misguided mentality that a two-piece fried chicken dinner (with red beans and rice, French fries and a biscuit) constituted a perfectly healthy lunch.

Needless to say, I was big friends with elastic the summer after my freshman year.

I lost a little bit of weight that summer thanks to a whole lot of exercise, but since I was working in Atlanta and eating out a ton, the weight didn’t fall off like I’d hoped it would. So flash forward to the end of my sophomore year, when I was still carrying around some of that excess freshman baggage plus a few pizza-related pounds from my sophomore year. I wanted a diet that would give me results. And fast.

This was right around the time when liquid diets became wildly popular. Lots of people bought different flavored shakes in the grocery store, and other folks favored a liquid diet that was supervised by a doctor. I decided to go the doctor-supervised route since I was such a bastion of maturity and responsibility. After all, I had once tried to lose upwards of 15 pounds over the course of 4 days by eating nothing but popcorn for my meals.

Be sure to let me know if you’d like any other diet or fitness tips!

In retrospect I’m not entirely sure why I thought a liquid diet would work for me; after all, I’ve been known to crave the texture of certain foods so much that I’ll plan a whole meal around them (I’M TALKING TO YOU, GUACAMOLE). But since the liquid diet promised big results, I figured I could endure it long enough to drop those pesky extra pounds. And I figured that if I was really desperate to chew something, I could go to town on some sugarless gum.

Extra Wintergreen and I became very close that summer. Inseparable, really.

The first week of the liquid diet was fine. It actually felt a little bit like detox, which wasn’t a bad thing given all the junk I’d eaten during finals. I don’t necessarily know if our bodies are meant to consume a two-liter of Mountain Dew and a bag of Cheddar and Sour Cream potato chips in one marathon-study sitting, so I kind of enjoyed the break from sugar and your various and sundry simple carbohydrates. And after about seven days, I felt GOOD. Sassy, even.

The second week was a little more difficult. I wasn’t just hungry. I was HAWNGRY. And even though there were a few “foods” I could eat – chicken or beef broth, for example – they didn’t really have the crunch or texture or, you know, flavor that I was looking for. But I was a good little dieter, and I felt so encouraged by the nurse and the doctor who were supervising me that I was resolved to keep on keepin’ on. With my Extra Wintergreen by my side AT ALL TIMES, DON’T YOU EVEN THINK ABOUT ASKING ME FOR A PIECE.

At some point during the fourth week I made a trip to a big discount store with my mother. By that point I’d lost about 12 pounds, I think, so the good news was that my clothes were fitting better than they had in awhile. The bad news was that I was weak as a kitten. Mama and I hadn’t been in the discount store more than five minutes when I had to find a patio set on display so that I could sit down for a bit, and Mama knew me well enough to know that I just wasn’t feeling well.

I’ll never forget how she leaned over me with a look of concern on her face and said, “Is there anything I can do for you? Anything that would make you feel better?”

And y’all, I will never forget my response. My 19 year-old self looked up at my mama and said one very important word with determination and clarity: “Meat. MEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAT.”

I kid you not: we left that store, drove home, and Mama cooked me two petite sirloin steaks right then and there. Cooked them in the cast iron skillet. And if you’re wondering how I remember that, it’s because OH MY LANDS IT IS A PRECIOUS MEMORY.

I learned a great lesson that day: any weight loss plan has to have balance at its core. I continued with the liquid diet for the rest of the summer, but I also ate small meals with real food. It took me a few weeks, but I finally figured out that man should not live by liquid alone.

Or, for that matter, popcorn.

If you’d like to win a $150 Visa gift card, leave a comment on this post that answers the following question:

Share a funny diet or exercise story, video clip, picture, etc. in the comment section and you will be entered to win $150. Please keep your comments G-rated as any profanity or offensive content will automatically disqualify you from sweepstakes entry. You should also visit The Daily Laugh hub to read funny content each day and for weekly chances to win $100 at the “Play For Laughs” game. If you share something really funny, we may even use it in The Daily Laugh!

And don’t miss the other bloggers’ posts – you have 11 other chances to win each month!

Questions about the sweepstakes? Check out the official rules.

Happy Laughing, everybody!

This giveaway is now closed.

Pretend Troubles. I’ve Got ‘Em.

Last night I was watching The Rachel Zoe Project because on days when I feel somewhat overwhelmed by various and sundry stresses in my life, I find some small degree of comfort in watching Rachel talk about how, if she ever has a baby, it would be SO MAJOR if she could wear her black vintage Chanel cape in the hospital.

Why, yes. It certainly would be major. And also quite practical.

If you’ve watched the show, you know that Rachel is almost always worked into a mental and/or emotional frenzy over life’s most pressing issues. Like, for instance, whether Cameron Diaz will get to have “a white evening gown moment” on the red carpet at the Academy Awards. Or whether Demi Moore’s Oscar dress has feathers on it.

Because FEATHERS? ARE LITERALLY A NIGHTMARE.

(Rachel enjoys some inexact usage of “literally.”)

(And she LITERALLY DIES approximately 16 times per episode.)

The whole thing is bananas.

It cracks me up when I see Rachel’s obsession about completely trivial things ratchet so far off the charts that the chart becomes completely irrelevant, but part of the reason why Rachel fascinates me so is because I recognize just a teensy bit of myself in her.

I mean, first of all there’s the obvious similarity in that we both wear a size zero.

And second of all y’all know how much I love me a good beret.

But in all seriousness, I definitely have that same tendency to get worked up over what essentially amounts to nothing. You know this, of course, because you’ve read my blog. And you’ve witnessed firsthand the number of times that I’ve shared some overly dramatic thoughts about bacon.

Not to mention that Mississippi State football and basketball oftentimes LITERALLY KILL ME DEAD.

Well.

One day last week I ran into the Walgreens because I needed to pick up a couple of packs of Wintergreen Icebreakers (I DIE FOR THEM), and while I was there I thought about my dwindling supply of Mentholatum, a product that I have used religiously for chapped lips and other ailments since childhood. And just to be clear, you should know that if I could only use one health and beauty aid for the rest of my life, it would be Mentholatum HANDS-DOWN FOR THE WIN.

I actually looked for Mentholatum in Walgreens a few months ago and decided they were out of stock when I didn’t see it on the shelf. I didn’t think too much of it and just picked up some the next time I was in the Walmarts. Walmart can always be counted on to keep Mentholatum in stock for the whopping price of $2.12 a jar, NOT THAT I’VE MEMORIZED THE PRICE OR ANYTHING.

But on this last trip to Walgreens, they still didn’t have Mentholatum. Didn’t even have a place for it on the shelves. I was discouraged, but I knew that Walmart would once again come to my rescue. After all, they have been my primary supplier of Mentholatum-related goodness for upwards of 20 years.

TWENTY YEARS.

So Sunday night after church I ran in the Walmarts to pick up some sliced turkey (want more meaningless details? FINE. I also bought sliced roast beef, whole wheat sandwich rounds, bacon, roasted almonds, and some Cajun-style pistachio nuts that have proven to be DELICIOUS), and before I walked up to the check out I decided to swing by the pharmacy and pick up some Mentholatum. Because, you know, THEY ALWAYS HAVE IT.

But they didn’t have it. And even though there was no space for it on the shelves, I held out hope that they just needed to do a little re-stocking at the Walmarts and it would be back on the shelves sometime Monday.

ETERNAL OPTIMIST, I AM.

I didn’t make it to Walmart on Monday, but yesterday afternoon it was Destination Numero Uno on our list-o-errands. And do you know what? They still didn’t have Mentholatum. BECAUSE APPARENTLY THEY NO LONGER CARRY IT.

It was all I could do not to fling myself to the floor right there in the middle of the Cold Care & Analgesics aisle. But I retained my composure, thought maybe someone was mistaken, then double-checked the lip care section just to make sure the Mentholatum hadn’t wandered over there. You never know, after all. Maybe the Vicks Vapor Rub said something unkind and the Mentholatum decided to move closer to the Carmex.

IT COULD HAPPEN.

But the Mentholatum was nowhere to be found.

I have since conducted an exhaustive search of nearby stores as well as the interweb and determined that from here on out I am going to have to 1) order Mentholatum from drugstore.com (out of stock, just FYI) 2) order Mentholatum from Amazon (it just seems wrong) or 3) order Mentholatum directly from The Mentholatum Company. I’ll keep you posted on what I decide since I’m sure you’ll lie awake at night until you’re aware of how I plan to handle this UNPRECEDENTED CRISIS in my life.

And in the meantime, if you happen to stop by a meeting of The Over-Dramatizers Club, look for Rachel and me. We’ll be wearing faux fur shrugs and sassy berets while we guzzle our venti Starbucks.

And we’ll be DYING.

LITERALLY.
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There’s a new Kellogg’s $100 gift card giveaway over on my giveaways page – click on over if you’d like to enter to win!

Kellogg’s Love Your Cereal – Post 6

This is sponsored content by BlogHer and Kellogg’s.

It always starts around mid-July. Always. And it seems like there’s nothing I can do to shake it.

Nothing.

Now contrary to what you might think, I’m actually not talking about Alabama’s stifling summer humidity, though that definitely kicks in full-force in July and makes me long to live atop an ice block on a planet called Cold.

But the real reason for my summertime apprehension is that mid-July brings on the first feelings of dread about our back-to-school schedule. Granted, in mid-July the prospect of having to wake up early is more than a month away, but please understand that one of my most favorite pastimes is to obsess about things over which I have no control. It’s sort of like a hobby, only without any of the fun or tangible rewards.

Despite my fretting, I’m usually pleasantly surprised by how easily we transition back into our school schedule. We try to gradually work our way back to a school night bedtime over the course of a week or so, and by the time school starts, we’re typically in a pretty good place.

I wish I’d known to dial back the bedtime gradually when I was in high school, because back then my idea of transitioning into a school schedule was to go to bed five hours earlier than normal the night before school started and then toss and turn while I wondered, WHY, WHY CAN’T I SLEEP, WHY, I DON’T UNDERSTAND.

In addition to our sleep adjustments, we do something else to make the back-to-school transition fun: SPECIAL TRADITIONS. That means that the back-to-school breakfast is absolutely and totally our little boy’s choice – whether that be grits or bacon or a favorite cereal or a peanut butter sandwich. It also means that when the first day of school is over, we’re going to meet some of our favorite friends and do something fun to celebrate.

This year it was a trip to a local yogurt place. And the kids had a blast.

In fact, by the time we got home that day, I was ready to wake up early all over again. As much as I dread being tied to a schedule during the summer, the predictability of our days becomes sort of oddly comforting once it’s school time again.

So what about you? What’s something fun you do to help your little one(s) get back in the swing of a school schedule? Leave a comment with your answer, and you’ll be entered to win a $100 Visa gift card (and come back next week to enter again – because these giveaways will continue for the next 6 weeks).

And be sure to visit the BlogHer.com Kellogg exclusive offers page – you have 24 other chances to win $100 every single week that this program is running!

Mom’s Breakfast Club was started to help educate moms and families about kids’ cereal and share the scoop on their nutritional benefits and ingredients. To learn more about the program, visit www.loveyourcereal.com.

This giveaway is now closed.

I Make Me Tired

This past weekend I learned that if State loses a close SEC football match-up on a Thursday night, my mental and emotional recovery time the following Friday is going to be anywhere from six to eighteen hours. Because NO KIDDING. That game nearly wiped me out. I didn’t know whether to pretend-kick the walls or crawl under the covers when it was all said and done. I would have been terribly discouraged if I hadn’t been completely keyed up. Which pretty much meant that I NEEDED TO TALK VERY EXCITEDLY FOR SEVERAL HOURS ABOUT HOW COMPLETELY DISAPPOINTED I WAS.

In other words: the crazy was on full display.

By late Friday afternoon my blood pressure was finally back to normal, so I decided that after supper I was going to run to the Steinmarts because I had a coupon that was burning a hole in my pocket and I wanted to look for a pair of fall shoes to replace Ye Olde Faithful Reef Flip Flops that have basically been attached to my feet since April. I love them deeply and am considering placing them in a shadow box when I am forced to retire them from summer shoe duty. Or maybe I’ll just tie one of them to a rope and wear it as a pendant. It’ll be my accessory statement piece for fall.

So I went to Steinmarts and looked at shoes and I was, well, unmoved. I felt like everything had stiletto-type heels that weren’t necessarily practical for daily wear, or if the heel was do-able then the style looked like something my Mamaw Davis would have worn back in 1963 (that is to say: very sensible). Flats just aren’t an option because they hurt my feet and interfere with my lifetime goal of pretending that I am tall, so that pretty much leaves me with boots. And between the fact that my calves are enormous and my arches are freakishly high, I’m a tough boot customer.

So all that to say: it was a Steinmarts shoe strikeout. I did find some cute clothes, but I won’t go into that right now because it’ll end up being some epic Martha-esque digression (“It wasn’t really a white-y cream! It was more of a cream-y cream! But with a hint of yellow! Only not an orange-y yellow or a gold-y yellow, OH HEAVENS NO, it was more of a taupe-y yellow!”).

But wait – that reminds me of something that happened earlier this year, so we’re actually going to have a Martha-esque digression after all. Because I just remembered that the last time Martha and I went to Steinmarts together, she talked from the car to the front doors about how she didn’t need one thing! Not one thing! Just couldn’t think of one thing that she could possibly need! But she’d be glad to hang out for a few minutes while I looked around!

And y’all, we had no more crossed over into the carpeted area of the petites section when Martha turned and looked at me and said, “Now do you know one thing I’d really like to find? Something I’d really like to find? A scarf with a little blue and hot pink and maybe just a little bit of brown in it. I think I would really like that! And listen – if you happen to be over by the earrings while I’m looking here, I would love a pair of small gold hoops – CLIP-ONS! – because I can’t seem to find them anywhere! And do you know what else? I’d love a blouse that that I could wear to church, sort of a scoop neck, but not a low scoop neck, OH HEAVENS NO, but maybe a high scoop neck with just a little bit of embellishment around the neckline! Don’t you think that would be perfectly darlin’? And one more thing – WOULD YOU JUST LOOK AT THIS JACKET? I would love to have this jacket! But wait – wait – oh, goodness – OF COURSE they don’t have my size. They don’t have my size! And this is a shade of green that I just don’t have in my closet. Isn’t it the prettiest apple green? I don’t have it! But of course they don’t have it in my size because look! LOOK! This size 4 petite just swallows me.”

And then I collapsed into a heap on the floor and crawled over to a stack of extra large shirts and wrapped them around me and cried.

And thus concludes today’s Martha-esque digression. Up next: Martha’s thoughts on cupcakes!

Anyway, this past Saturday morning, after the aforementioned Steinmarts shoe strike-out, I decided to look for some shoes online, and after three to five minutes of in-depth searching I sent Melanie an email that said, “I really don’t think they make cute shoes anymore. And I can’t do boots because I DON’T KNOW IF I’VE MENTIONED THIS, BUT MY CALVES! AND MY ARCHES!” She immediately wrote me back and said, “Have you considered a bootie instead of a full boot?”

And the first thing that popped in my mind was, “Yes, In 1988. With my long khaki prairie skirt and my flannel shirt with built-in shoulder pads.”

And then: “I’M GOING TO NEED SOME HELP.”

Apparently the bootie is all the rage this fall, and within 10 minutes Mel sent me a whole bunch of links of potential bootie candidates. Which was actually a much more wholesome endeavor than that last sentence might lead you to believe.

The links helped me so much, and I ended up finding two pairs of booties at Rack Room Saturday afternoon. They’re actually perfect for my calves ish-ahs since they don’t get up in my calves-related bidness, and they’re also a good match for the freakishly high arches. Even though I would be totally fine with wearing my flip-flops well into December, I think the booties will be a little bit more seasonally appropriate. And also warm.

So there you have it. Upwards of a thousand words about booties.

It has been my sweet privilege to serve you with all the incessant rambling about all the nothing.

And I haven’t even told you about my Mentholatum-related drama yet.

I do hope you can stand the suspense.