aka Chesty LaRue

Her Mother, The Cougar

I surprised G in her room again this evening long after she was supposed to be sleeping, reading some Harry Potter magazines.

Gesturing at the magazine, I said, "Nice.  Harry Potter.  Its that Daniel Radcliffe, isn't it?  He's a hottie?"

She shook her head. "No, but I heard you and the Chick talking about some 17 year old one evening and his abs and how you guys were cougars."

I can honestly say that I have NEVER IN MY LIFE called myself a cougar.  At 36 I like to think that I haven't quite hit cougar status.  A little Mrs. Robinson, maybe, but cougar?  No.

I thwacked her with a pillow.  "Cougar?  COUGAR?"

She giggled helplessly and hid under the blanket.

"So if Daniel Radcliffe doesn't do it for you, then who is the hot one?"

She thought a minute.  "Older Neville.  From the last movies."

I can totally see that.  In the meantime, I will continue to feel like I am having inappropriate thoughts when I see Daniel Radcliffe in the bathtub scene in "Goblet of Fire" with his very developed shoulder and back muscles at the tender age of 17.  Sigh.

Promises, Promises

Where are the hot vampires?  That's what you're all thinking, right?  She promised us some hot vampires and the Mullet Hall of Fame and we've got NOTHING.  Nothing but a bunch of chatty pre-teens/teens on summer break.  Where's the Lou Gramm and that totally cut sax player?  Why is she torturing us like this?

I am letting you know that I feel for you.  I do.  I WANT to be posting about hot vampires.  I do.  But there is a problem:  I don't yet have the DVD. 

The Chick is giving it to me tomorrow, and then I should have some delicious vampire goodness for Monday's post.  Complete with extra feature info and the Mullet-tastic-ness that was hairstyles for men (and some women including myself) in the 80's. 

Speaking of mullets, I have been trying to find a way to embed THIS video on my blog, and apparently Sony doesn't want me to.  I even joined YouTube for Pete's sake.  So clicking on the link is the only way you can see the fabulousness of the ruffled tuxedo shirt with the Standard Rock Star Lead Singer Steve Perry-Like Hair (DON'T STOP BELIEVIN'!), the highly technical soft focus, and the back-up singer who looks like Hurley from Lost.  And what is with the lead singer looking up his nose?  Who is he singing to in that terribly uncomfortable position?  (and how freaky is it that the new lead singer of Journey sounds EXACTLY like Steve Perry, and yet is a small dude from the Phillipines?  He's really pretty awesome.  YouTube, the next Monster.com.)

Incidentally, I have a theory about this video.  I think it is one of those dream sequences they used to have in old 80's movies where the lead character would drift off into his thoughts and start day-dreaming about Molly Ringwald and how hot it was going to be when they got together when he wasn't busy locking his old girlfriend outside of his bedroom while simultaneously getting her hair caught in his door and causing her to ultimately make-out with Anthony Michael Hall.  Except I think this guy was actually at the Prom when he started day-dreaming.  Why he hasn't got any girls in his dream is a mystery to me.

I had also promised a post about my office, but that is going to wait for Sunday.  Turns out Manager Mom is taking a page from Mrs. G. and all of us bloggers out there are going to post together, all over the place. Consider it our version of a team building exercise.

Hopefully the pictures will not reveal the true nature of my office, what with the DQ bags in the trash, and me sitting in the big black chair reading about "Swingtown" on TWOP.

So check back Sunday for pictures of the Brain Factory, or what I like to call "Where the Magic Happens."  Or "the Hollow Mountain." You have no idea how much I want a Hollow Mountain lair.  There generally is not a box to check for "Evil Overlord Hollow Mountain" when you are searching the real estate listings.  But there SHOULD BE.

A Day in the Life

G was being obnoxious, hanging on me and poking me.

G:  "Poke, poke."

Me:  "If you do not stop you will draw back a bloody stump."

G:  "Not today!  Today I am impervable."

Me:  "What?"

S:  "You mean you can't be a perv?"

Me:  "I think you perhaps mean 'impermeable' or 'impenetrable'."

G:  Maybe.

*********************************

S:  (Whooping and hollering in the car.)

G:  "She is so annoying."

S:  "Oh no she dint."

Me:  "Excuse me, where are you from?"

G:  "Are you from the hood?"

Me:  "The Over-Priced Suburb Hood."

S:  "S in the HIZZOU!"

*******************************

S:  "Can I sew with you when we get home?"

Me:  "No, I am going to have a little time all to myself."

G:  "She is going to sit in the sound-proof closet and scream and yell at her husband, 'Why?  Why did we have these children'?"

Me:  "We have a sound-proof closet?"

G:  "Apparently."

Me:  "I'd sure like to know where it is."

S:  "Why?"

Me (cue Tim Curry voice here):  "Because when I lock you in no one will hear the SCREAMING."

G:  "That is more than just a little disturbing."

Miscellaneous Tuesday, How I Love Tiffany's and The Saga of Paco

This would be what I have been working on.  Because it is going to be finished by next week, by God. 

Also, the Tiffany's bag contained part of my anniversary gift from El Jefe, which was a lovely crystal heart on a silver chain, from the Elsa Peretti line.  (15 years is crystal, you know.)  There was a big hullabaloo with shipping, and the crystal heart part did not arrive on the actual anniversary day. 

Yes, I realize I could benefit from some moisturizer.

But Tiffany's made it right, and gave me these as a "We are so sorry for messing up your big day," gift:

(Hey Ma!  Check out the clean ears! And yes, that is pretty damn close to what my actual hair color is.  It is THAT bright.)

The lovely sterling silver heart earrings are from the same line as the necklace, and to be given a $200 free gift in apology was pretty damn nice of them.  I am thinking that I am going to be a customer for life.  (This is my first Tiffany jewelry, and nothing says "I love you" and "Ah, this day has gotten so much better" than a little blue box with a white bow.  As obnoxious and entitled as that sounds, it is SO TRUE.)

And I would like to end this post with my favorite line of cards right now - The Paco Collection from Hallmark Fresh Ink.  What the hell is up with charging extra for square cards, anyway?  (I apologize for the flashes - my scanner has gone kaput.)  Click on the cards for the big version if you are so inclined.

Paco #1, The Original:

Inside it says "Birthday or not, do not go with Paco."

We then encounter Paco again.  This time with actual glitter.

Inside they implore you:  "Don't disappoint Paco!  Dance!"

Paco's final appearance in the cards is difficult for Paco:

  

The inside?  A simple "Happy Birthday."

I can't tell you how much I love these cards.  I am thinking of framing them and putting them in my office. 

For tomorrow, a photo essay on the space where all the magic happens: my office. 

For this weekend:  Larue reviews "The Lost Boys."  Complete with gratuitous shots of Kiefer Sutherland and Jason Patric and LOTS of links to the soundtrack.  Also included:  "Mullets in the Movie - A Retrospective."

How I am embarrassing my children today

I was being raucously rowdy this morning, singing at the top of my lungs. 

S walks by and says, "You really don't have to sing, you know."  (In a "I'd rather you didn't" sort of way.)

In full-on Ethel Merman impression, I responded (loudly), "Nope!  GOTTA SING!  GOTTA DANCE!"

She walked away sadly, shaking her head, glad that we were alone in the house.

Wrapped Up in my Work

  

Check out those biceps.  And you thought sewing was for the weak.

Working on The Chick's pettiskirt for her Raven costume.  If anyone has a better way to wrangle chiffon/georgette/sheer fabric, do let me know.  I am planning on doing a photo essay of my office and its miniscule proportions later this week.  I know you are all filled with anticipation.

And no, I don't dye my hair.  Can't you tell by my virtually non-existent eyebrows and translucent skin?

No again, Matilda is NOT my size.  HAH!  Maybe when I was 12. 

Use #103 For Compressed Air

Getting those pesky little hairs out of your bra after a haircut.

It can also give you a bit of a thrill.  If your life is dull and such.

Say Hello to the Night!

In honor of the birthday of our nation I have decided that I need to do another photo essay and recap of a classic movie.  At this point I am leaning heavily towards "The Lost Boys," as it has lots of pretty boys (Kiefer Sutherland, Jason Patric), comic relief (the two Coreys) and a genuinely kickass soundtrack.  And I never say kickass, so you know it must be good.

Any requests?  Because otherwise this weekend I will be hunkered down in front of the TV with a huge bowl of buttered popcorn and a towel to wipe up the drool from watching the vampire hotties.

My inspiration to watch the movie?  Why, Mr. Lou Gramm, of course.  Love him.

Yet Again With The Sewing

This is a picture of the lovely A, who is my model, friend and the object of hero worship from my children.  She is far cooler than me and can also style their hair as she is legally certified to do so.  She is wearing a mix of stuff I have made, and stuff she has purchased.

The leather bodice  - purchased at the MN Ren Fest.  Same with the hat and belt.  The boots I believe were purchased online.  The velvet knickers were her Mom's from back in the 70's.  The black and white skirts and the white chemise with the drawstring sleeves were made by me. 

El Jefe is rather fond of the idea of a leather bodice.  When I told him the cost ($135) he immediately put it on his list of items for which he is planning on winning money in Vegas.  I believe it is actually higher up than accessories for the Wii.  Which just makes me feel all warm and fuzzy.

If you happen to attend the MN Ren Fest this year, you can see Miss A there as well.  But don't look for her amongst the pirates - she got upgraded to royalty this year and is the new Princess, complete with Swarovski crystal tiara.  Formal court gown photos to be posted later. 

My question - which is better?  Pirate or princess?  One involves wearing leather and being naughty, and the other involves dressing up, wearing jewels, and making others wait on you. 

Personally, I think its a tie.  What about you?

Fashion is Not for the Weak

I mentioned to G and S in the car today that Aunt Cheap Chick was going to come over this weekend and do a little Fashion Intervention Training with them.  She usually does this every other year or so, or when I call her, crying over the clashing stripes and plaids.

S pipes up from the back seat:  "Why aren't you doing it for us?"

My response:  "Because no one listens to me."

S, thoughtful:  "Oh...yeah."