Rachel Callahan

Back to School Book Giveaway – "The Artist Within"

August 28, 2009 Rachel Callahan Giveaways and Contests

I have always been fascinated with artwork and have yearned to partake in the beautiful art of colors and canvases, but I was just not born with that gift.

However, “The Artist Within” may very well be able to help me make up for my lack of “natural talent”. The Author, Whitney Ferre, explores the world of our untapped potential. She shares her own story of how she moved out of Sales and into Art with no “natural abilities”. She learned to unlock the brain’s potential and hone the skills that we don’t even know that we have!

This book walks you through that process in a riveting manner. It is made for adults, but fitting for children also – and it would be a perfect homeschooling curriculum! It is so easy to read and laid out in a workbook form, so that you can take notes as you learn.

Whitney breaks down the book into eight bite-sized “exercises”: Exercises in Emphasis, Balance, Proportion, Unity, Harmony, Contrast, Rhythm, and Repetition. She explains each one in easy-to-understand analogies as she lays the foundation to help us SEE LIFE through the creative side of our brain.

If you would like to win a SIGNED copy of this awesome book from Turner Publishing and join me in my journey of learning how to use the untapped creative side of your brain, simply comment on this post! This contest will be open until Monday, September 14th, and a winner will be chosen randomly and announced on September 15th.

Good luck!!

The Euphoria of Being Oneself.

August 27, 2009 Rachel Callahan The Blissfulness of Life, Toddlers: The Experience

I have been in a constant state of bliss over the past couple of days, simply because I feel like MYSELF again.

It’s amazing how thankful it can make you to simply feel “normal” again when you suddenly and quite dramatically don’t feel normal for a few days.

(Which definitely proves the point that sometimes the lows in life are good, if for nothing else to make you truly appreciate the highs.)

Before I felt better, Ali’s bedtime had been a particularly stressful point for me. I had been so ready to be DONE WITH MY MOTHERLY DUTIES FOR THE DAY that I was stressed by the whole process. Plus, I had the mouth ulcers that made it nearly impossible to talk, let alone to do our usual singing routine. Although Chris had been very gracious and offered to handle it all by himself, I of course forced myself to participate, bad attitude and all, because of the guilt I would heap upon myself had I shirked my duties.

So with my mouth ulcers and my medicinally caused mood swings finally gone, on Tuesday night I told Ali joyfully that I could sing again. She was thrilled and also thankful for life to be back to normal, and so she was willing to sing along with me with more gusto than usual.

So we sang together, in different keys 60% of the time, on the same note 35% of the time, and shockingly (and quite accidentally, I’m sure) in harmony 5% of the time…

Jesus loves the little children,
All the children of the world.
Red and Yellow, Black and White,
They are precious in His sight.
Jesus loves the little children of the world.

And, as usual when we sing that song, she then wanted to sing more verses of her choosing: “Jesus loves the little Alis”, followed by a long list of verses about other people Jesus loves: Mommies, Daddies, Tessas, JCs, Lindsays…

Then, when she ran out of people, she moved on to body parts. By now, I would have usually wrapped it up and put her to bed, but I was truly living in and appreciating the moment for the first time in several days, so I let her keep choosing new verses. We sang “Jesus loves the little mouths”, then eyes, then nose, as she tapped the proper part on my face, nearly never to the beat.

Finally, before the nose verse, I told her that it would be the last song of the night. Which of course meant that she would beg to do another one as soon as it ended, and I would have to stick to my guns and tell her no.

Sure enough, after the last line, she bent her head over, looked up my nose, and requested, ‘”Can we sing Jesus loves the little bogeys?”

I don’t know if she saw one up my nose and that’s what gave her the idea or not. Maybe I don’t want to know. But I was so caught up in a fit of giggles that I just had to agree. And so we sang, with zeal, as she tapped her finger UP my nose,

Jesus loves the little bogeys,
All the bogeys of the world.
Red and Yellow, Black and White,
They are precious in His sight.
Jesus loves the little bogeys of the world.

It might not have been scripturally accurate,

And we might should have changed the third line to Green and Yellow, Clear and White,

But it was most definitely a moment of euphoria.

Class-Action Crappiness.

August 26, 2009 Rachel Callahan Just My Luck, Utter Silliness

ATTENTION! ATTENTION! ATTENTION! IF YOU OR A LOVED ONE CAME IN CONTACT WITH OR READ MATERIAL WRITTEN BY RACHEL FROM THE BLOG “GRASPING FOR OBJECTIVITY IN MY SUBJECTIVE LIFE” DURING THE DATES 8/20/09 TO 8/24/09 AND HAVE SINCE CONTRACTED THE MOPEY MINDYS, THE NERVOUS NELLIES, THE SLEEPY SUSIES OR ANY OTHER TYPE OF MENTAL DISTURBANCE, YOU MAY BE ENTITLED TO A SETTLEMENT. COMMENT NOW FOR A CLAIM EVALUATION TO SEE IF YOU ARE ELIGIBLE TO BE INCLUDED IN A NOW-PENDING CLASS-ACTION APOLOGY!

Rachel was found to be taking an allergy drug to which she had all, yes ALL of the side effects cited in the “Discontinue use and call your doctor immediately” list. However, this was not discovered until late Monday night, when after four days of stress, near misses with tears, irritability, sleepiness yet sleeplessness and TOTAL lack of sense of humor, she broke her principal of not reading the side effects on medicines to discover that she was one of those rare exceptions to the “Allergy medicines can’t make you a maniacal raving crazy person” rule.

After discontinuing use immediately, Rachel has returned to “normal”, and has decided that phlegm in perpetuity is a better option (for EVERYONE) than total lack of emotional control.

So, if you believe that you or a loved might have been affected by this blight in her and her blog’s existence, please APPLY NOW now to be included in the pending class-action apology and don’t miss your chance for JUSTICE!

If you wish to be excluded from, or object to this settlement, you must file your objection and/or request for exclusion no later than September 30, 2009.

The Trail of (Arachnid) Tears

August 25, 2009 Rachel Callahan I'm a Glutton for Adventure

Spiders don’t bother me too badly.

Roaches are my nemesis. Anything less than a roach, I can handle.

So spiders and I are pretty cool most of the time – I almost even kind of like them, because they eat mosquitoes, which makes me very happy because mosquitoes happen to find ME a very, very desirable delicacy.

So I leave the spiders to eat the mosquitoes so that I don’t get eaten. In fact, some guests may think I never clean the outside of my windows. My windows MIGHT slightly resemble a haunted mansion, but hey – whatever keeps me from being digested once cell at a time by tiny, vicious, blood-sucking insects is fine with me.

However, I recognize that not EVERYONE has this symbiotic relationship with spiders, so when this lovely creature took up residence directly to the left of our front door, I knew that others might not find her so charming.

The first time I saw a this type of spider (several years ago), I actually WAS afraid due to it’s GINORMOUS SIZE. But then I learned that they were harmless Garden Spiders, and quite good for the local bug catching trade, so I forgave it for it’s intimidating size and grew to love it.

But, some guests might not have this knowledge, or they might not put the death of mosquitoes above the unsightliness of having a gargantuan spider living within inches of where their head needs to pass by, so I knew that she needed to go.

But I certainly didn’t want to kill her. One, because she’s useful. And two, she’s HUGE. Can you imagine the sickening squish? The icky guts? The MESS?

Granted, I have been known to freeze a spider to dispose of it in the past, but THAT spider was suspiciously poisonesque. AND he crossed the holy threshold and was found INSIDE the house.

So I decided that this time, this spider just needed a relocation. She needed to move out to the suburbs of our backyard. Somewhere not quite so disturbing to passerby.

And so begins the moving of a giant spider.

Tools: a chair, a large container, and a cameraman (that might or might not be much more afraid of spiders than I. But hey – he kills the roaches, and THAT is worth a million spider relocations in my book.)

For size reference, I offer this picture (hand may not be as close to spider as it appears – I’m not STUPID, after all):

So I started out seeing if she would go nicely, and just held my official spider catching container up to her.

Not so much. However, she wasn’t too good at strategy. Instead of jumping on me (which would have ended my bravery with one swift plunge), she went to the ceiling.Caught.

We took her inside to let Ali see:

And then we realized that she we scared her so much she had a baby:

(Thank goodness she didn’t have a million babies, as I’ve heard many freaky spider stories about. I might not have been able to reopen the container in that case.)

Ali petted her and her baby:

And tried to share her snack (I’m teaching her to be a good Southern Hostess and all):

And then I continued the cruel relocation of our spider friend, all the way out to our back fence:(Chris had a camera inside, with which he took a horribly unflattering picture of my backside as I bent all the way over to dump her out. You will NOT be seeing that picture on this blog. Ever.)

And then, to add insult to injury, I went back out front and completely tore down Spider Village. This was all that remained of the peaceful spider subdivision that had been:

So, if you see on the news that our entire family has been eaten in our sleep by spiders, you can at least understand how we came about deserving it.

The Smiles of My (Foggy) Weekend.

August 24, 2009 Rachel Callahan Toddlers: The Experience, Weird Strange and True

Although I rather unsuccessfully navigated the last few days behind a thick curtain of mental fog thanks to my new allergy medications, I did manage to wake up long enough for a giggle every now and then. And so, since my brain is not functioning enough to actually WRITE a post, I bring you a visual recap of the finer points of the weekend.

I saw some great movie reenactments:

AJ, starring in Indiana Jones and the Search for the Fairy Princess Unicorn:

And Ali, in Singin’ in the (Indoor) Rain:
AJ decided that the risk was lower in Ali’s choice (no monkey brains, snakes, or roaches), so she joined her.
While the girls were playing, I had plenty of time to browse the toy store. At first glance, this Sock Monkey looked like all of the rest of his monkey friends…
Until you turned him over and saw the unluckiest Monkey Birth Mark in the history of the Monkey world:

Either that, or the foulest diaper rash ever recorded.

World Market is also always a great place to go to see some interesting products. Some of which I considered putting in this post, then decided against it. You’ll have to live the rest of your life in constant mind-melting curiosity…

But, my favorite for this trip: I can totally picture the bitter Italian man that invented this variety of noodle…banging his pots and pans while fuming under his breath, “Maaama Mia She’s a paina in the butta…”

A few weeks ago, I discussed my angst and guilt regarding the vagueness of the parking spaces reserved for “expectant Moms OR Moms with small children”. However, there was no vagueness in this new type of spot, as seen at the Zoo today:

However, here’s who decided to park there.Maybe he was making an artistic statement of irony.

And then, to make it all the better, he had a friend join him in the other reserved spot by the time we left the zoo:

Yeah. I hate to break it to Mister Gore, but Alabama isn’t going to be the leader in the “go green” movement.

And, finally, for those of you who thought I was exaggerating regarding Ali’s Pommel Horse Toilet Routine:

Did you SEE those perfectly pointed toes?!

And, of course, there’s no better way to finish off a routine than with a 180°.

At least she likes doing her Gymnastics SOMEWHERE.

Just Another Typical Bathroom Visit.

August 22, 2009 Rachel Callahan I embarrass myself just for your amusement., Toddlers: The Experience

After Ali goes to bed at night, Chris and I often get deep into conversations, and we tend to follow each other around the house talking while doing whatever we’re doing. And sometimes, in the middle of these conversations, I interrupt and say, “I’d like to go pee, and do it without talking. I’ll be back.”

He always looks at me with this odd look on his face, wondering why this is a new quirk of mine. So, for his sake, and for those of you without young children to experience this fun (or those of you who might have forgotten), I transcribed a typical during-the-day bathroom visit on Thursday.

(No, I wasn’t sitting there transcribing, I just made mental notes to remember it all and typed it all up right afterward. For posterity’s sake, you know.)

Me: “I’m going to tee tee in the potty. I’ll be back.”

I disappear. About a half a second later, Ali rounds the corner and pushes the door open.

Ali: “Hey, What are you doing?”

Me: “I’m tee teeing in the potty.”

Ali runs around the corner back from whence she came. Half a second later, back around to me.

Ali: “So, what’s going on?”

I ignore the overly-obvious-really-just-meant-to-fill-the-silent-space question.

Ali: “So where are Ashley, David and AJ?”

Me: “They’re at their house.”

Obviously, this was a test question to see if I would take the time to actually answer accurately, because she followed up, very suspiciously, with,

Ali: “DAVID’S at home?”

Me: “No, David’s probably at work.”

Ali: “Yes.He is. Where are Ashley and AJ?”

Me: “They’re at home” (hoping that Ali doesn’t have E.S.P. to know that AJ is ACTUALLY at the Mall with her Granddad, but I was really just wanting to answer the question as quickly as possible so that I can FINISH what I’m doing and MOVE ON. Besides the fact that my mouth is in intense pain and talking isn’t much fun.)

Ali, suspiciously: “AJ is at home???”

Me: (sigh) “No, AJ is at the mall with her Daddy Chuck.”
(How DOES she sense these things?!?!)

Ali: “So where is Ashley?”

Me: “Ashley IS at home, holding Baby Tessa.”

Ali seems to finally approve of my accuracy. She runs back from whence she came. I breathe a sigh of relief. Then, half a second later, she runs back around.

Ali: “So, what’s going on?”

Me: “I’m TRYING to tee tee in the potty.”

Ali: “I’m going for a trip under the table.” (as she is disappearing again)

Me, calling after her: “Okay, have a good trip!”

She runs back around the corner to give me more details. (To find her if I miss her, I suppose.)

Ali: “I’m going to Alabama and Tennessee under the table.”

Me (finally flushing the toilet): “Okay, have fun!!!”

And THAT, husbands of the world, is why when women become Mommies, they all of a sudden prefer a bit of privacy.

My Trip to the Torture Chamber.

August 21, 2009 Rachel Callahan A Day in the Life, Just My Luck

So I heeded all of your advice and went to the doctor yesterday. I’ve been meaning to go to a real, live Ear Nose and Throat specialist for my phlegm for months but just haven’t made the time. However, it’s gotten much worse lately (and I really prefer being able to breathe when laying down to go to sleep at night), so that, combined with my completely debilitating mouth sores put me over the top.

And I must say, waiting for a doctor’s visit is made immensely more pleasant with the dawning of the Twitter craze. Having 500 friends at the doctor’s office to talk to via my cell phone was MUCH more entertaining than reading year-old magazines about subjects I that care nothing about or staring at ugly, peeling, wallplastic (why can’t doctor’s offices just have wallPAPER??)

(Yes, there was a “TURN OFF YOUR CELL PHONES PLEASE” sign on the front door, on the receptionist’s door, on the door back to the rooms, and on the front and back of all exam room doors, but I determined that what those signs really meant was to put your phone on silent. Right?)

Anyway, I was in room eight. As they led me down the hall, I peeked in each room. 1…2…3…each was different, and looked cruel and torturey in it’s own unique, diabolical way. This was no ordinary doctor’s’ office.

Then we arrived to my ~~chamber~~ ~~cell~~ ~~dungeon~~ room. It was frightening.

First, there was the Half Dental, Half Frankenstein chair:

Then, the instrument table:

I was pretty sure I knew what this was for:

But THIS scared me:

Especially those pointy crooked scissors in the special case. What’s he going to do – stick it up my throat and cut my sinuses out?? Periscoping scissors should be outlawed.

But what REALLY scared me was this shelf:

Which happened to be right below this:

Yes, I’ve come to the wrong place. This is no ENT office, this is where the Linda Douglass is torturing all of those people who are spreading false rumors about the Proposed Health Care Plan.

And then I notice this on the door:

Yeah. As IF I’m going to try that stuff out on MYSELF.

(Luckily it didn’t say that you weren’t allowed to photograph the scene of the crimes.)

So, in an Official Apples to Apples Comparison of my trip to the gastroenterologist’s office for my gall stones last year with this trip, the instruments that an ENT specialist uses are much scarier, but the location of which the Gastroenterologist’s instruments are used is much more frightening (luckily for me, gallstones are in the STOMACH, not, well, lower.)

So, the most inhumane doctor in the world would be an Ear, Nose, Throat, and Gastroenterology specialist.

ANYWAY, since I know you’re all just DYING to know what’s wrong with me, he told me that my sinuses were in great shape (Why thank you, they’ve been working out a lot), so it is either allergies or reflux (which sounds like a weird diagnosis, but would also explain the mouth ulcers), so he’s given me a medicinal regime to help and to determine which it is and treat it.

Which happens to be making me very sleepy. And besides that, I’m still unable to eat or talk or breathe due to my still growing and worsening mouth ulcers. So please excuse me while I go sleep for the next two weeks until the medicines do their job and prove what is wrong with me.

In which I’ll be having nightmares of dungeons, wall shackles, and periscoping scissors.

Hello, I’m Applying for a Day Off.

August 20, 2009 Rachel Callahan Blogher, I embarrass myself just for your amusement., Just My Luck

I am NOT blogging today.

Can you tell?

I spent half of yesterday on the couch, or in other general misery, and the other half working, because during-naptime-work didn’t go away just because I didn’t feel good.

Here’s hoping that today is better, but we’ll see.

What’s wrong with me?

Well, the main ailment is that I have four HUGE Mouth Ulcers.

These things have chronically pained me since childhood – they like to come in spurts and make my life miserable.

If you’ve never had one, be sure to thank God for your unbelievable luck. They are white and red, pussy, swollen, open and oozing sores inside of the mouth. They start little and get humongous, and also grow in pain levels as they go along (don’t forget to thank me for NOT showing you pictures – for once I took the high-not-gross-road.)

And NO, they are NOT herpes. Those are the ones on the OUTSIDE of the mouth.

These you get on your gums, inside your cheeks, on the roof or floor of your mouth, or on your tongue.

And it is just my luck that I currently have two on the left side of my mouth, one on the right side of my mouth, and the biggest, most painful one of all on the tip of my tongue (and it takes up about the WHOLE tip of my tongue, too.)

Which means that eating, drinking, talking, and anything else that requires the mouth is either excruciatingly painful or out of the question, and has been for three days.

Besides that, I’ve had a sore throat, nausea, a bit of a fever, am STILL dealing with my phlegm issue worse than ever, and in general just haven’t felt good (these things often come along with my mouth ulcer breakouts – so don’t get any ideas – I am NOT pregnant).

On the bright side, I was delightfully surprised at how wonderfully pleasant Ali was yesterday, considering that we:
a) stayed at home all day, and
b) Mommy somewhat miserably incapacitated.

She played by herself, was very pleasant and concerned about me, let me take a nap while she watched Curious George on the couch with me, and in general was a joy to be around.

I need to be sick every day.

So, I have nothing of great amusement to say since I spent the whole day in agony, but tonight is the grand kickoff of the newest season of Project Runway, and so to celebrate (even though we won’t watch it until this weekend due to our small group tonight), I decided to finally share my “Tim Gunn” story from BlogHer.

While at BlogHer, I had no idea when or where any of the celebrities were scheduled to appear (this information was oddly left out of all BlogHer Materials), but I just happened to be going by the exhibit hall and saw the lines and the man himself, Tim Gunn.

I love Project Runway, and he was the only celebrity that I had any interest in meeting (sorry, Paula Deen), so I hopped on over and entered the long, long, line.

While waiting, everyone was nervous and trying to decide what they would say to him, and bemoaning past celebrity meetings where they completely embarrassed themselves.

The line was hardly moving, and it was almost time for Tim to be done. People were taking FOREVER. I finally got a peek, and it was taking so long because people were actually showing Tim pictures of their kids on their iPhones!!

Seriously? People! A celebrity has NO interest in seeing your baby’s pictures!! Although he was playing along very well…

It was taking so long that Tim’s posse finally came through the line and told everyone left that we would have to go up in groups of three. Even this didn’t seem to speed up the process, thanks to those who really thought that Tim needed to hear (and see) their life story.

Soo while I was waiting, I decided that in my moment with Tim Gunn I would try to humorously apologize for us bloggers who thought he gave a rip about seeing pictures of our kids.

I walked up, he gave me a hug, and I started into my silly one-long-sentence spiel. As I was saying this, he was looking at my outfit and making hand motions and facial expressions as if he were trying to get in a word edgewise to compliment me on my clothes.

Then he heard what I said, and in the MOST genuine voice ever said, “Oh no!! I ABSOLUTELY love seeing all of your pictures of your kids!!”

He really sounded like he meant it. I guess that’s why he gets to be on TV – he’s like the world’s greatest actor.

In all seriousness, he sounded about a hundred times more genuine than I sound at my genuinest in every word he said to everyone I heard him talk to – I was totally impressed.

Anyway, that was the end of my moment talking to him, so he never got to compliment my outfit. Earlier in line when I was listening to everyone else lament their past celebrity meetings, I thought it was a rather silly thing to obsess over – as if the celebrity is EVER going to remember the stupid thing that YOU happened to say.

But I did find myself rather second guessing my Tim-Gunn-Silly-Meeting-Tactics afterward…if I had just said hello, let him “genuinely” complement my outfit, and moved on…??

Then I wouldn’t have this blog post to write.

Oops – I thought I was going to take the day off from blogging. I guess this counts as phoning it in, overly wordy Rachel style.

Now I’m going to go gargle mouth sore medicine for the rest of the day, not that it helps.

Gumshoe, Mommy Style.

August 19, 2009 Rachel Callahan Mystery Solved, Toddlers: The Experience

I absolutely HATED the movie A Christmas Story as a kid.

Maybe it was because my Grandparents always had it in the VHS player, all too eager to cue up EVERY time we came over, regardless of whether it was July or December.

Or, maybe it was because it is THE MOST DEPRESSING MOVIE EVER MADE.

However, there was one part that I always found fascinating: The Decoder Ring.

I always wanted to be a detective as a little girl. In fact, there was a period of time where I insisted on being called “Carmen Sandiego”.

(I don’t remember exactly when that occurred, except that it immediately followed the time period where I answered to the name “Nancy Drew”.)

So, the idea of a decoder ring always fascinated me.

And now., I find myself a grown woman – a Mommy, a wife, with an accounting degree (just as exciting as “Detective”, don’t you think?), but I still have a thrill run down my spine whenever I solve a mystery.

(You might have already noticed my penchant for mysteries from The Neighborhood Mystery, The Perfume Mystery, The Magically Appearing Water Mystery, The Blue Light Mystery, or The ALDOT Mystery.)

Luckily for me, there are many mysteries to be solved when a toddler is underfoot, so even though my life may appear unadventurous on the outside, I can still convince myself that there are mysteries to be solved! Crimes to bring justice to! Puzzles to figure out!

And, I have had TWO spine-chillingly thrilling solved mysteries in the past couple of days, so obviously, I am one happy detective.

Case Closed #1: The Case of the Unfounded Hate.

I am pretty convinced that toddlers rarely say anything that is completely random. Nearly everything that they come up with is based off of some sort of prior frame of reference that someone has taught them.

Due to this belief, I was quite worried (and a bit mystified) the other day when Ali told me in her cheeriest, most endearing voice that she hated me.

But then, this morning (two weeks after the original hatred incident), it all came together.

I went to get Ali out of bed this morning, and again in the most sweet, cheery voice, she said, “I hate you calling me, Mommy!!”

“What, baby?”

Clear as a bell, again, “I hate you calling me, Mommy!”

“We don’t say hate, honey.”

Look of utter confusion.

Besides her reaction, something just didn’t seem right – that sentence sounded very familiar.

And then it clicked – she was quoting me. Except that she was just mispronouncing a VERY important word.

Background: She likes staying in bed for a while after she wakes up (if I come too soon to get her, she asks me to go away and close the door). Eventually, she starts saying in a quiet voice, “I’m ready to get up now, Mommy.” I hear this cue on the monitor, and go get her. I often greet her by saying in a cheery, sing-song voice, “I heard you calling me, Ali!”

And that’s it.

Line up the decoder ring, and:

Ali-nese: Hate

English: Heard.

Wow. All that time, she was just telling me that she heard me.

Life makes so much more sense now.

(And, if you want to experience this for yourself, I recorded it tonight. Just ignore the mess in the background, and my annoying and incessant efforts at trying to get her to say the same thing over and over.)

Case Closed #2: The Case of Tessa and the Snot.

Remember Ali’s observation that Baby Tessa was older than her snot?

Well that one definitely pushed the limits of my Theory on the Unrandomability of Toddlers. So it kept nagging at me.

What was the connection between Ali’s snot and Baby Tessa?

And then, laying in bed way past the time I should have fallen asleep (which is when I come up with everything of any importance), it hit me: The day that Tessa was born, Ali was getting over a cold. She had been telling everyone at the hospital that she “was a little snotty”, and I didn’t allow her to get close to Baby Tessa because of that.

(At which point, she asked me, “Because Baby Tessa will get me sick?”

“No baby, quite the opposite.”)

Anyway, she was remembering that she had been “A little snotty” the day Tessa was born, and so she associated the two together.

And THAT’S how Tessa got to be older than Ali’s snot.

Now that I’ve solved these mysteries, it’s time to go throw back my strawberry blond hair, kick back and celebrate with my best friends Bess and George and my boyfriend Ned.

And if they’re lucky, we might invite The Hardy Boys over.

~~– Rachel~~

– Nancy

At Least It’s a Curse With a Sense of Humor.

August 18, 2009November 12, 2013 Rachel Callahan I Love Birmingham, Just My Luck, Weird Strange and True

Earlier this year, I posted about mine and Chris’ curse, that causes every place that we love and that is sentimental to our relationship to close, get demolished, or otherwise maimed.

The lowest point of this curse was when our super classy Wedding Rehearsal location, a Greek Steakhouse called Sarris’, closed down and was replaced with “Love Stuff”. In case you’re not clear on the items sold at Love Stuff, I’ll quote my earlier blog post about this life-altering tragedy:

That beautiful brick, ivy-painted back room that we had our dinner in now holds the French Maid outfits, Fireman jackets, and Thigh high boots.

Err, not that we would know.

Well, there’s now a new development in the upper crust of Hoover Commerce (which, by the way, Hoover is considered to be one of the classier suburbs of Birmingham, not that you’d know it by the next picture). This new development takes place right next door to Love Stuff, and the combination couldn’t be more absurdly comical:

Just in case you can’t see, this:
is now next door to this:

So, you know, if love goes badly, you’ve always got an option. Right next door.

Oddly enough, both stores are the type that likely have a back room where the discriminating consumer can purchase personal items of questionable legality. All they need now is a charity bingo hall and a medicinal marijuana pharmacy to really complete the stereotype!

Because after all, isn’t it every southern bridesmaid’s dream to have one stop shopping for a classy lingerie shower AND a bachelorette party with automatic weapons?

Now you can come to Hoover, pawn your Uzi, and come home with neon yellow leather pants and a matching pair of 12 inch platform thigh high boots!!

But, alas, all is fair in love and war…and available in a one stop shopping trip to Hoover, Alabama!