Rachel Callahan

She Has Now Taken Over My Dreams.

October 24, 2009 Rachel Callahan I embarrass myself just for your amusement., I'm a Professional Sleepwalker.

I admit it: I am apparently in “Mommy Mode” now.

You know that dream you have right as you’re drifting off to sleep that you’re falling and it jerks you awake, as you gasp a huge breath and try to grab ahold of anything to keep from plunging to your death?

That dream varies for me from falling off a tall building to falling out of the bed, but I have it a lot.

(Luckily, so does Chris, so we are equal in our need for apology when we almost knock the other one out of bed with our spastic efforts at saving ourselves.)

Well, I had a very original (and disturbing) twist on it the other night. I was falling asleep very quickly after laying down, and then all of a sudden, I’m sitting in front of the toilet, and Ali is sitting on it. Except that she is sitting completely on the FRONT of the seat of the toilet, and begins peeing, creating a yellow waterfall down into the floor and me. I jump up and shriek to scoot her back and save myself from the impending flood,

and then I awoke with a jolt.

Oh, this is bad. My falling dreams have now turned into potty-training dreams.

Granted, this isn’t the first time I’ve had Mommy dreams. After all, my most injurious sleepwalking episode ever (and, thankfully, the only sleepwalking incident (so far) that resulted in an emergency room visit) was predicated by me trying to save Ali from falling down nonexistent stairs.

But there’s just something about dreaming about POTTY-TRAINING that just sucks all of the individuality right out of you and just makes you feel like MOM.

Good thing it’s a pretty rewarding job.

Ninja Resultage

October 23, 2009 Rachel Callahan Actually Possibly Informational, New York Ninja Trip

So I haven’t reviewed my Ninja yet because I’ve been too busy playing with it for the last few weeks and trying to put everything into practice that I learned about it in New York. I’ve found what I like and what I don’t like to use it for, but overall love it!

The first thing I had to try, of course, were smoothies. I unpacked it and got it set up and admired the double bladeage, ready to chop the ever livin’ daylights out of some fruit:
The top is where the motor is – it just sits on top and you push down on it to make the blades do their thing:

I decided to see if I could make an all-fruit smoothie, aka no ice OR sugar. So I started with a pint of FROZEN blueberries:

And three peaches:
Ali helped me get it all loaded in: Then quickly ran to the other side of the room, as she knew there would be loud noises to follow.

Here’s what it looked like to start out:
And here’s what it looked like, 31 seconds later:

I will say that Ali did LITERALLY pee her pants from the noise. I would show you the video of the above smoothie making, but halfway through it, Ali starts squealing from her oopsie, and it kind of ruins the effect.

I ended up adding ice after all – the blueberry to peach ratio was all wrong to be cold enough. But putting ice in with the already smoothied fruits didn’t seem to bother it, and we had lovely now-COLD smoothies.

The blade thankfully lifts right out, which makes pouring and cleanup easier:
And here was the result of my “hard” work:(No, we didn’t come close to drinking it all – I froze the rest for sorbets for later.)

But Ali DID love what she drank!

(After receiving a dry pair of drawers.)

I liked the cleanup – it rinsed clean very easily (no crevices to build up yuck like my blender has):
The next week, I compiled all of your recipe advice and decided to attempt chicken salad. I used the smaller container to chop my celery really fine:

Then, after cooking my chicken in Nabeel’s Greek Dressing and chopping it into big chunks,
I put it in the big container along with the rest of the most commonly agreed-upon ingredients:

Now I have to say, the Ninja did it’s job admirably, but

I was making up my recipe as I went along, so I kept adding more of this and more of that. It chopped everything finer and finer as I added things. I would recommend making sure you have your recipe at least mostly down pat before using the Ninja on something that you don’t want over-chopped, and
My chicken salad totally STANK. I hated it. Besides the fact that I didn’t like the taste, it literally stank – it smelled like cat food. I guess that’s the risk of trying to make something for the first time that you are totally obsessed with – your own version will never measure up to the professionals.

I also used the Ninja another night to just chop an onion for a casserole. I wasn’t as pleased with the results – I felt that it didn’t give them as nice of a consistency as my food processor, which slices them very thinly. The Ninja definitely chops, not slices. So if you want slices, don’t ask Mr. Ninja.

So, finally, I made a smoothie in the correct order: starting with the ice, then adding the fruit.

The ice turned to snow in less than a minute:
Then I added my peaches, and got this:

Beautiful AND Delish.

In summary, here are my pointers on the Ninja:

Great cleanup – super easy to set up, use, and tear down. Also – the containers come with lids, so they can directly store whatever you made.
Awesome for blending things COMPLETELY.
It IS fairly loud – make sure that all children present in the room are FULLY potty-trained.
Slicing – not so much. The Ninja is Mr. Choppy, not Mr. Slicey.
The easiest and most excellent smoothie maker ever.
I stink at chicken salad, but the Ninja does it’s job nicely.
Definitely WAY worth the cheaper-than-my-blender pricetag!!!

If you would like to know how to purchase a Ninja, go here – and they currently have free shipping!!

Blogger Integrity Information: I was not paid to write this review. I was given a Ninja for the purpose of this review, but my opinions are my own.

Dear, Dear, Dear.

October 22, 2009 Rachel Callahan Blogging: the therapy., Rachel's "Brilliant" Marketing Ideas, Utter Silliness

Dear Mister-Genius-Who-Created-The-Self-Cleaning-Oven:

Do you think that you could apply your oh-so-amazing abilities to create other self-cleaning Appliances? Namely, a self-cleaning refrigerator?

You know, where it could sense when food is past it’s prime (the premium models could even tell before it grew any green fuzz), empty it, put it into the dishwasher, and oh – take out the trash while you’re at it?

Also – what if it could keep an electronic map of the contents on the fridge – so that you could look at a panel on the door and immediately know that the Sour Cream with the most promising expiration date is the one in the bottom left corner, NOT the one on the top right, which may or may not be just a sour cream container with fuzzy peas in it?

Sincerely,

Someone that is SOO over cleaning out the refrigerator.

Dear Proctor and Gamble:

I highly recommend that if you are going to sell products specifically for women, that you hire female marketing executives for those sectors of your ginormous organization.

I mean seriously – you people are a multi-billion dollar company – surely someone has the brains enough to realize that?

No, I guess that I don’t know for a FACT that you don’t have female marketing executives…

Except for the fact that NO woman in her right mind would have EVER signed off on THIS marketing campaign:

Word of Advice: Women do NOT want to be told to cheer up when they are in need of your product.

In fact, something about that sentence can take an otherwise happy female and tap into the inner most hormonal depths of her soul and make her want to immediately find the closest man and make him PAY for the sacrifices that us women make just to be women.

Maybe try something more calming like, “Here’s a Box of Chocolates to go along with our product – take a moment, sit down, and know that you are appreciated.”

Or maybe something sympathetic, such as, “I know that you may or may not feel happy right now, and that is completely and totally appropriate. But no matter how you feel, know that WE understand.”

Or, if you don’t like those, then I guarantee you that just being silent and having NO slogan at all would be better that your current one.

Sincerely,

A Normally Happy Woman, (as long as someone’s not telling me to have a happy misery.)

Dear French People:

You have funny words. And even funnier combinations of words.

The End.

I’m not sure if we’re trying to scare off giant mosquitoes or arachnophobes, but it’s working.

October 21, 2009 Rachel Callahan Quirky quirky quirkiness, Weird Strange and True

Our neighborhood has been taken over…by gigantic spiders.

And I DO mean GIGANTIC.

It started with this one, which quickly became Ali’s best friend:

And then it had babies – ones who built magnificent webs,

Ones whose heads eerily jerk around and stare at you when you drive past,

And even apparently some die hard Alabama Arachnids:

There are even a couple so large that they would make Hagrid get all ooey gooey on the inside:

There seem to be more Halloween decorators than Christmas decorators in our neighborhood, and they’re not just limited to spiders. Our neighbors shell out big bucks for taller-than-Ford-Econoline-Frankensteins
And full-yard cemeteries.

At first I thought that maybe Halloween deco in general was just becoming more popular than the classic few pumpkins sitting here and there, but from what I have observed and heard, it appears that we just live in a extraordinarily Halloween Enthused neighborhood.

(Which scares me to think of all of the “tricks” that we might get on Halloween night for not being home to give out “treats”.)

(Maybe we should leave a huge conciliatory bowl of candy on the front porch.)

However, there’s one thing for sure: Ali LOVES it. She looks for each one of these landmarks every time we leave the house, and we have a constant discussion about whether or not Freddy and Christie’s house will be sparkling with orange blinking lights or not.

So, in an act of kindness to a toddler (and to her mother who has to answer all of these questions), would you please be so kind and when you take down your Halloween decorations, immediately replace them with Christmas bling so that I don’t have a depressed toddler for a whole month?

Or maybe some neon blinking turkeys and spinning cornucopias for Thanksgiving, perhaps?

If y’all won’t do it, I’m sure that Chris would love to have an excuse to go Griswold on our house even earlier than last year.

At any rate: the expectations have been set, and your spiders are welcome to stay. At least if Ali has any say-so in it.

At the Risk of Becoming Known as a Poo Blogger…

October 19, 2009 Rachel Callahan Toddlers: The Experience

…but I can promise that there are no pictures anywhere in this post.

I’m sure you’re ALL just dying for an update on my Poopless Princess. Her marvelous talent for being quite literally anal retentive has created some pretty impressive results lately.

For one, a Monday through Saturday fast ended SO monumentally (at Gramamma’s house, thank goodness) that it made my Mom utter the word “Turd” for the first time in her life.

At Sunday dinner.

Whilst holding her hands about four feet apart to illustrate how long it was, in explanation for why she ended up having to plunge the completely stopped up toilet after a TWO YEAR OLD used it.

So I gave Ali Miralax every day last week, in hopes that she wouldn’t be able to continue this new hobby of hers. She STILL went 5 days on her mission of Determined Defecation Delay.

And then…Sunday came.

I REALLY wish it hadn’t.

But it did.

We were eating a nice meal with some good friends at a Mexican Restaurant after church. Ali made the short, high pitched “eeeee!” that she often makes when she needs to go tee-tee. As if the urge hits her out of nowhere. No problem – we hop down and head to the bathroom.

We arrive and I pull down her pull-up and tights all at once and hoist her onto the toilet, not really paying attention to what I’m doing – it happens a lot, after all.

And then I look down.

And I see that while putting her up on the toilet, I have created a horizontal mountain on the side of the toilet bowl. And multiple brown streaks all the way down it, all thanks to the contents of her pull-up.

And then I look down further.

It’s everywhere. All over her tights…legs…you name it.

Thinking that this was going to be a quick tee-tee trip, I had left my purse at the table. I had NOTHING with me. No wet wipes, no extra pull up, no high-powered pressure washer, no white flag to run up the flagpole, no barf bag, no toxic waste protection suit, no phone to call 911. . .

I stood there, looking at Ali, who at this point I had pulled back off of the toilet and was standing there, staring at me.

I spent a minute hoping that one of the other kids would have to come tee-tee, and so another Mom would come to my rescue.

Silence.

Ideally, Chris would empathically sense my desperate need of help and come rushing to my rescue anytime now.

Silence.

I weighed all of my options, and finally decided that our table was close enough to the bathrooms to leave my child in the stall with her poo around her ankles and get my purse.

I mean – what do you do? Her pull-up was certainly not going to be travelling back up her legs!

I told her to stand still and to NOT TOUCH ANYTHING (as she had been very curious about the sideways mountain), and I ran.

I got to the table and in a panicky voice told Chris to hand me my purse and ran back as Chris and all of our friends watched wide-eyed, knowing the carnage that must be behind those bathroom doors.

It took me about 20 minutes and another stopped up toilet to clean up the full reaches of the toxic spill. It included higher levels of difficulties where I gained extra Mommy points such as the fact that the changing table had a significant curve downward, so I couldn’t let go of Ali to throw away my used, um, “accessories”, because she would slide right off, creating even more streaks of unpleasant substance.

But the best part of this whole adventure was Ali. I was panicked about it and focused on the task at hand, but I never fussed at her. She was calm, but she took it upon herself to repeat, over and over throughout the whole ordeal, very matter-of-factly and emotionless,

“I’m sorry that I didn’t recognize that I needed to poop, Mommy.”

We finally got all cleaned up and returned as everyone else was leaving.

But that’s okay.

Seeing as how we were eating Mexican, I really didn’t feel like finishing my refried beans anyway.

p.s. – No one use the handicapped stall at Sol Azteca for a few weeks. It’s stopped up. And might have a few germs left on it.

A Homecoming Revue

October 18, 2009December 2, 2013 Rachel Callahan Don't Listen to my Fashion Advice, Football and I have a Complicated Relationship, Gameday Fashion

home·com·ing (hom’ kum’ ing) n.

A coming to or returning home.
An annual event at schools, colleges, and universities for visiting graduates.
A seasonally ridiculously cold football game that had to be scheduled ridiculously late so that taking a toddler into the game as had been planned would be completely foolhardy. However, being that there is a parade and much to entertain said toddler, it is still a worthwhile event at which to spend part of the day.

re·vue (ri-vyoo’)
n. A musical show (or blog post) consisting of skits, songs, and dances (or just pictures), often satirizing current events, trends, and personalities.

Although the cold weather was a bit off-putting to ME, Ali was thrilled for her first opportunity to try out her new girly winter coat:

In ever-so-fitting of a manner, Cousin Eli was QUITE busy making sure that he didn’t look girly in ANY way:I love the mud-mixed-with-snot look.

Ali, not so much. She was too busy daintily holding her cookie so as to not get even a crumb on her prized coat.

Although she didn’t approve of Eli’s facial fashion sense, she WAS quite impressed with his hot ride:

As soon as they started moving, she looked up at me and squealed, “Is this a special treat?!?!?!?”

We sat up camp on the parade route early this year to ensure a place to sit. However, that gave us QUITE a bit of time to entertain three kids and keep them from walking one inch forward into the road.

So I let Ali do a bit of photography. If Ali had a blog, this is what her photographs would look like:Her comment as she critiqued this picture: “I got a picture of a PART of Daddy….”

Ali’s Gymnastics Idol, Rachel, was sitting with rest of the Alabama Gymnasts across the street from us. Ali was thrilled to be in their presence. So I taught her about zoom, and let her photograph them:

She also got Uncle Joey…
And Aunt Lindsay…
And even another shot of a PART of Daddy…

But no interest in photographing Uncle JC or her cousins.

The parade was FINALLY getting close, so the excitement was building: …as was her need to pee.

But I chose to ignore that. My parenting philosophy: If she can hold poop for six days, then she can hold pee through a parade.

She took the parade very seriously, critiquing the band:

And dutifully waving at all of the Princesses with Crowns. (Although some were “Queens”, according to her. I sincerely hope not.)

Of course, you get to see the obsessed fringes of Alabama Football society on homecoming day, like the person that would pay untold amounts of money to get licensed artwork transferred onto a car:

or would take the time to create a whole amusement park truck, with fully animated rotisserating opponent mascots:

or would have specific plays airbrushed onto their motorcycles:

Because you just know that in fourth grade on career day, Tyrone Prothro said “I wanna be such a good football player that I get painted on motorcycle wheel wells!!!”

I started noticing the overwhelming fashion trend in all of the sororities:

But I wasn’t the only one who noticed. Ali said, “They’re ALL wearing boots, Mommy!!!”

JC replied, “Yes, ugly boots.”

Lindsay explained, “Actually, they’re UGG boots.”

Ali: “They’re all wearing UGGGGly boots, Mommy!!!”

(Those pieces of fashion commentary brought to you solely by JC and Ali. I can’t be blamed or associated with their opinions, although if I were, it might not be inaccurate.)

There was a very tiny taste of Dragon*Con at the parade, except with FAR inferior costumage than D*C:

These tastes were mostly brought to us by Chris’ Alma Mater Dorm, The Mallet Assembly:

Chris was tearfully proud of his heritage:

But one thing you can’t get at Dragon*Con: The Stormtrooper, QB edition:

The law school was in tails and jeans as always, but it looks like someone is going to be getting sued for tearing off their banners before the parade: Somehow I’m thinking that they didn’t win best float.

And don’t miss the guys in the back of this second royally fancy float with the cut-off jeans to accompany their tails:

Speaking of, it’s time for a bit of fashion revue. Although I usually stick to the female variety of fashion critique, today is a special edition: How to achieve the Tacky Male Fan look.

Remember me talking about toddlers in clown pants earlier this week? Well, there is one exception to adults not wearing clown pants, and that is if you are going for – you guessed it – the Tacky Male Fan look: If we ever change our mascot from Big Al to Bozo, we’ll know who to call.

Secondly. I love Houndstooth. It’s a great accent piece to any Alabama outfit. It adds class, variety, and is a nice, neutral print. Especially on girls.

(such as Ali on Friday:)

HOWEVER.

Men’s Pants were NEVER meant to be in a super-jumbo houndstooth print:But the red and white striped belt and matching tie – that’s what REALLY completes this outfit as true Tacky Male Fandom Glory.

And finally, the classic embroidered-elephants-on-the-trouser look:

Unless you are going for said Tacky Male Fandom, here’s a Rule of Thumb: On the male body, the only place that embroidery is appropriate is less than an inch in diameter on the chest area – maybe an alligator, an eagle, or even an elephant is acceptable.

A man should NOT look like his over-excited-mother-who-just-got-a-new-embroidering-sewing-machine got ahold of his nice dress pants and WENT TO TOWN.

Now I know that I said that it was all about men this time, but I did discover one eye-opening nugget of fashion information: I always wondered how thigh-high boots worked. How did you bend your knees?

I now know:

Thigh-high boots are just FAUX-boots above the knee. Kind of like those vest-shirts I had in the 80’s. Vest on the front, T-shirt on the back.

But you know what? I bet her legs were warmer than mine.

*** End of Fashion Revue ***

Finally, back at the tailgate party, Ali put to use all of the good football skills that Daddy has been teaching her to impress an Older Man:
However, no matter how much one prepares to catch the ball,

Sometimes it’s hard to keep your head in the game:

Finally, after much homecoming fun, Lindsay and I filled her back seat with cousins and headed to our warm and cozy homes, leaving the menfolk to turn into fansicles while enjoying the game.

p.s. – I just realized that my husband would be so ashamed of his wife’s lackluster fandom if I didn’t mention SOMEWHERE in this post that Alabama is now ranked number one in the country. Consider it mentioned.

Market Recovery Ahead for Those Who Lost Their Fortunes in the Great Beanie Baby Market Crash of the 90’s!

October 17, 2009 Rachel Callahan Quirky quirky quirkiness, Weird Strange and True

Birmingham has gone crazy.

I don’t know if the reaches of this phenomenon are national or if it is just local – I’m hoping that all of you can tell me.

(By the way, if it IS just local and at some point becomes national, I want this post to document the fact that Alabama can, in fact, be a trendsetter for something that has nothing to do with NASCAR, meth labs, or football.)

So what’s the craziness about?

Animal Bracelets, or Silly Bandz, as they’re officially called:

These charming yet simple bracelets, which can be bought* for the ridiculously cheap price of $2.99 for a dozen (* bought in the theoretical sense, of course, seeing as how they’re completely unavailable for purchase anywhere in this city), have kids from the ages of 2 to 17 COMPLETELY obsessed.

And a good percentage of the parents are also under their spell . . .desperately seeking them for their begging kids.

Signs on the store doors say “Don’t ask – we don’t have animal bracelets!”, or “We have an animal bracelet waiting list over a month long.”, or “You’d have better luck getting your own cat to wrap around your wrist than to find Animal Bracelets here!!”

Five year olds have now resorted to begging their moms to pack them extra school snacks so that they can trade them for a fix of bracelet intoxication.

In fact, Animal Bracelets are to schools what cigarettes are to prisons and mental wards: the most accepted form of currency.

The funny thing is, if you’re actually doing what you’re supposed to with animal bracelets (i.e. WEARING them), they don’t look like animals at all, but just a bunch of wrinkly bracelets:
At least the jelly bracelets I wore as a kid hung on the arm right.

But I can’t deny the power of these magical creations. They ARE pretty darn cute:

And photogenic.

I actually happened to have bought some for Ali earlier in the summer before they became The Next Beanie Baby, or my poor child would definitely be going without.

(Who am I kidding? I’d be just as madness crazed as everyone else.)

Little does she know that High School girls would pay her big bucks to take them off of her hands. Unfortunately for them, she doesn’t quite understand the concept of money yet, so I’m pretty sure she’d rather have her pretty animal bracelets than dirty, wrinkled, green paper.

(A debit card, however, she might totally understand.)

Of course, now that I’ve shown her stash on the internet, I will be locking my doors and windows extra tight.

What, you think no one would have the lack of heart to rob a two year old?

You obviously haven’t seen all of the addicts out there, wild-eyed and half-crazed, looking for their next fix.

Hey – maybe the Meth Lab operators will realize there’s a better profit margin and a greater pool of addicts in the Animal Bracelet market, make a few changes to their labs, and start a new product line! That’d be a decent trend for Alabama to start…

Mosaically Speaking…and a Giveaway – over $100 Value!

October 16, 2009 Rachel Callahan Actually Possibly Informational, Giveaways and Contests, Toddlers: The Experience

One of our local toy stores is going out of business, and they have had all of their inventory at 50% off for the last few months.

(It’s almost all gone now, or I would tell you about it.)

(Scratch that. If that were true, I would have told you about it a few months ago. I’m a bad sharer of good information.)

ANYWAY, I stocked up on some creative learning toys for Ali, and one of the things that I got was this:

It’s a kit of 6 cardboard pictures and 3,500 small square stickers with a legend to show where to put them.

Granted, I figured that she was WAY too young to actually get this concept. I usually don’t pay attention to age suggestions, but this said ages 6-99, so I put it in the closet to save for later.

However, the day after our last art project, Ali started begging me to do more art, so I decided to pull it out to see how long her attention span would last.

I was shocked.

I explained to her that the numbers on the butterfly told her what color of stickers to put on it,

And showed her how to match the colors and numbers on her legend,

And she TOTALLY got it.

We have worked on our mosaic several different days, and she has focused on it for long periods of time, loving every minute of it.

She mumbles under her breath constantly: “I need to wook on my wegend.”

I can’t imagine how good this must be for her reasoning skills and coordination…and it’s fun! I think it is totally age appropriate for toddlers – and a great way to introduce them to a lot of different skills.

I vowed to stay away from her mosaic and let her do every bit of it by herself, but then she started asking me to take turns with her.

And … it’s a bit addicting.

Chris told me to put it down the other night. (After I had been working on it for several minutes after Ali had moved on.)

Oops.

At any rate, here’s our progress so far:
And we have five more pictures in our set for later!

I contacted the company and told them how much I loved their product and that I was going to blog about it, and they graciously provided a giveaway prize pack worth $107!!!

The prize pack includes SIX Mosaic kits!! They are: the Sticky Mosaics® Twinkle Tiaras set, Sticky Mosaics Jewelry Box kit, Sticky Mosaics Flower Mirror kit, Sticky Mosaics Rockstar kit, Sticky Mosaics Fairies set, and Sticky Mosaics Fairy Door Plaque & Memo Board Set:

(By the way: If you need help, Ali would be GLAD to come show you how to wook your cowors up on your wegend.)

If you’d like to win this amazing Prize Pack from The Orb Factory, simply comment on this post! You can get up to three extra entries if you:

Subscribe to OR Follow my blog
Follow me on Twitter OR Facebook
Tweet, blog, OR Facebook about the giveaway

(be sure to leave separate comments for your extra entries.)

Best of luck! This giveaway is open until Monday, October 26th. The winner will be selected randomly and announced on Tuesday, October 27th.

Fall Fashion Report, For The (Drastically) Shorter Consumer.

October 15, 2009 Rachel Callahan Don't Listen to my Fashion Advice, Toddlers: The Experience

There’s a lack of toddler fashion analysis in the media today. You can’t find it in Elle. You can’t find it in Marie Claire. You can’t even find it in Cosmo. So Ali and I have recognized this reporting gap and have decided to fill it.

Just because you have less stature than an umbrella doesn’t mean you can’t be a style icon. Don’t sell yourself short!

The funkier, the better. There is nothing wrong with mixing flowers and stripes. To really turn up the funk, be sure to wear your Hello Kitty boots. On the wrong feet.
Another great way to showcase your style is to choose your glasses based on the highlights of your shirt. Not the main color, mind you – that’d be too matchy-matchy.
Corduroy Stripes are also a great way to show your style. A great tip to remember: if a pair of pants would look like clown pants on an adult, they’re perfect for a toddler.
However, clown pants or not, an outfit may feel a little bland to a two year old. So there’s nothing wrong with adding accessories.
And an extra skirt.

And a Greek dancing skirt.

In fact, when in doubt, just wear your entire toddler wardrobe at once.
Fall colors are perfect for a fall wardrobe, especially paired with Mommy’s high-school-era favorite style of shoes. Oh, the good old days of wearing Bostons in High School…
It’s not ALWAYS necessary to be dressed up. Even in your best friend comes over dressed in a pretty pretty party dress, if you are at your own house, it is fully permissible to stay in your jammies all day.
As long as you pair it with some classy accessories:
And finally, for extra dressy occasions, it never hurts to borrow clothes from said best friend. After all, the dress is always pinker on the other side…
Oh – and Wings are TOTALLY “in” this year for the most formal of occasions.

And, that’s a wrap.

To the fashion editors of Elle, Marie Claire, and Cosmo who are reading this post and absolutely DYING to pick it up for your publication: I am willing to talk. But you should know that my models are quite the divas and demand generous royalties.

Spilling My Age All Over The Place.

October 14, 2009 Rachel Callahan I embarrass myself just for your amusement., Weird Strange and True

I’m not one to inherently feel older after a birthday, but I think 28 is having an affect on me.

On Monday I was SO sleepy, so sluggish, so creaky and achy, so edgy – with absolutely no just cause whatsoever.

It’s 28.

But that’s not the biggest side effect of 28.

Apparently, one “perk” of turning 28 is to start spilling things more often than a toddler.

Don’t believe me? Let me recap:

Saturday; Day Two of being 28 years old:

Chris and I were eating dinner in Chattanooga. I had lemonade. While we were eating dessert, I managed to somehow knock my (very full) glass. It spilled lemony goodness all over the table, dessert, and my lap, which of course seeped onto my butt, on my legs, shoes, AND my purse.

And of course we were in a nice restaurant. A very full one. With people who liked to laugh at others, sitting just across the aisle from us.

Lovely.

Sunday Morning: Day Three of new age:

We’re having breakfast at the B&B. The General Himself is sitting at our table talking to us. I pick up the carafe to pour myself some more coffee. I leave my cup on the table and begin to pour.

However, the trajectory of the spout was grossly under-estimated on my part.

I vigorously pour coffee two inches past my cup – and straight onto Chris’ knee, leg, and feet. And, because things like this always happen in slow motion, it seemed like I KEPT pouring for a couple of seconds before I was jolted back to reality by his attempts-at-letting-out-a-manly-yelp-in-front-of-The-General.

He mumbled something about it being quite hot while I apologize profusely and dab at his leg.

Sunday Night: STILL Day Three:

Chris and I are getting ready to go to bed from our cozy spots on the couch. I go to sit up, and my blanket jumps off of my legs and attacks my drink on the coffee table. Knocks it over, of course. Onto the blanket, coffee table, floor, and me.

All of this spillage definitely brings back a deja vu of my office days. It seems like I had a talent for doing a lot of this:
Except that MY coffee was always sticky with creamer and sugar.

I spent many a morning frantically shaking my keyboard upside down and splattering the office carpet with coffee in hopes of getting all of the gooeyness out of it before it stuck my E key, thrby causing all of my sntancs to look lik this.

In fact, I am pretty sure that if I remember correctly, I spilled my full cup of hot coffee on my boss-who-hated-coffee’s keyboard within a few weeks of starting my job, at the too-young-to-be-drinking-coffee-anyway age of 16.

(Sue? Remember that? Thanks for not killing me on the spot.)

Eh, maybe it’s not 28 after all.

Maybe it’s just me.