why homeschooled ballerinas rock

Once upon a time, there were two homeschooled ballerinas.

It is pretty hard to imagine just how hip they were. Homeschooled AND ballerinas. In the '80s. YES PLEASE.

oh sorry. How'd Sally Jessy get in here?

Ah, here they are! Two little lookers. Which is hipper: the plaid vest with the turtleneck, or the doily inspired pinafore?  Perhaps the giant scrunchy? 

Sorry about the flash of light. My sister's legs were landing planes. Like the paneling? Oh I know you do.

What's more disturbing? The hillbillies on horseback or the fact that I do believe my father has no shirt under his overalls? I  need to bleach my eyes now.

Anyway, when you're even half as cool as we are, things just come easily. Like, for instance, six months ago Sally Jessy gave me something from her musical player thingy. I think the kids call it an MP3 player. Or an Ipod. Or some such nonsense. She doesn't know what it is either. I think it came free with her phone or something. Anyhoo. 

"Make it play music," she says.

"Sure thing," says I. "Hubby, make this magical thing that looks like a tiny fashion plate from my old Barbie Fashion Plates, play music, k? K."

"No can do. The SDcard is empty."

"Say what now? South Dakota?"

"Inside your fashion plate there's another fashion plate. Like a card?"

"Like an ace of spades?"

"Like a computer chip."

"I like chips."

"Never mind. Tell her she gave us an empty card."

"Who put who in the what now?"

*sighs*

So, obviously, technology is dumb and instead of sending back a full whatevertheheckthatwas, I am just sending her these:

fifty shades of me

So, I released a book called Shadows Gray. At the same time, some woman released a book called 50 Shades of Gray. I sold like, two copies. She sold like, six squillion and counting.

Sometimes someone buys my book and promptly returns it for a refund. I can just picture them yelling,

hey! what the heck! where's all the naughty bits? boy, cousin Tilly has the worst taste ever in erotica. that's the last time I listen to her; she probably gets all hot and bothered over Sweet Valley Twins.

Anyway, I have a few friends who read it, and a few friends who would NEVER read it, and a few friends who don't read anything, so they're out of the equation. 

I didn't have any interest in reading it, per se, but I had just gotten my Kindle and I was getting the hang of downloading free books.

Free kindle books. This could be a blog post all its own. And it will be soon, I think. I shall title it The Warrior's Werewolf and His Submissive Amish Zombie Lover; the Novella, Part 4. 

For a time, amazon was offering the first couple of chapters of 50 Shades for free. So, I downloaded it out of curiosity. Now, I'm not just saying this out of petty jealousy for a woman who became a squillionaire for being a smut writer, but it was pretty boring, badly written stuff. 

Rolling my eyes, I felt dumb for having it on my kindle.

Then, I realized: I had it on my kindle.

The kindle that my kids played Angry Birds on. The kindle that my husband peruses when everyone else has the remote control. That kindle.

I didn't want them to see 50 Shades on that kindle! 

Feverishly, I went to get it off. But getting rid of kindle books is nothing like dropping off your unwanted paperbacks anonymously at the Goodwill! I had just gotten this kindle, remember, and I'm about as tech-y as your average garden gnome. I can barely cut and paste. 

I start tapping the touch screen of the blasted device in various patterns. Perhaps if I touch the right spot, it will give me the option to "delete forever from this device and your memory" but alas. I played the opening lines of the theme to the Young and the Restless, which was the only piano song I ever learned, but no. It was still there, mocking me. I could almost hear the Church Ladies marching up my step. They were going to burst into my bedroom! They were going to pray for my wayward soul (again. So awkward).  I'd be fired from my job with children! I'd be left by my husband who thought he married a Good Girl! 

The tapping wasn't working, so I tried to find the owner's manual. Evidently, the owner's manual is IN the kindle, but I didn't know that at the time. Well played, amazon, well played.

I decide to ask google. I fire up the trusty laptop and type deleting mommy porn from an ereader before anyone finds out.

The laptop FREEZES. I repeat, IT FREEZES WITH THAT OH-SO CRIMINAL SENTENCE IN THE SEARCH ENGINE. It won't minimize the page, it won't close, the laptop won't even turn off. I am going to hell in a hand basket.

The church ladies are getting closer: I can hear them singing Follow the Fold and Stray No More. They are nearly on my lawn! I swear, I have ten heart attacks. I have to get this off my kindle.

I go through the rigmarole of  waiting for the laptop to mysteriously stop freezing, which takes about 3 weeks. In the meantime, my kids have grown up without a mother and my husband leaves me for Sarah Brown and the Mission Band. One time, a small child enters my room and I toss the kindle like a Frisbee under my bed. I feel like a teen caught with Playboy. Or a mom caught with 50 Shades of Gray. 

Eventually, once the laptop stops teasing me I find what I'm looking for. To delete a book from your kindle, you simply touch the screen a bit longer and the option magically appears. What a relief. 

I'm so relieved I eat a pint of ice cream and go to bed in my flannel pjs and team building exercise tshirt and fuzzy socks. I've heard an urban legend that reading 50 Shades of Gray ignited fiery passion in the bedrooms of house wives everywhere, but I certainly don't see how. 

Those women are so weird, I swear.  

The day pinterest set my face on fire

Mix an egg yolk with some honey, 
they said.

Use it as a face mask, 
they said.

It will smooth your wrinkles, shrink your pores, get rid of fine lines, and make you look like Cate Blanchett, 
they said.

Okay, they didn't say that. Whatever. 

I mixed it up with all the fervor of Dr. Moreau. (He mixed things, right?)

Then I sank into my gingerbread infused bath as it sat on my face. The concoction, I mean, not Dr. Moreau. That'd be weird! And awkward.

After about five seconds, before I could even crack open my book, my face began to tingle.

Then it burst into flames.

I washed off my yellow slime and wondered if my free ranging, organic, backyard chicken egg was to blame. Maybe this only worked with pale, grain fed, anemic eggs? 

In spite of being gone, my face still burned. In fact, it was getting worse. I stole a peek at myself in the mirror. I was not rocking the cranberry color. 

Let this be a lesson to us all. There are evil pinterest minions in the world who twirl their mustaches and come up with ridiculous ideas, pin them, then sit back and wait for dummies to try them. 

I am that dummy.

I am so reporting this problem to the pinterest board. 
Just as soon as I try this DIY ear wax removal.

Ta-ta!

Beauty Routines

If you're like me, you love reading about other people's beauty routines (and you love the color yellow and are scared of shadow boxes) even if you don't consider yourself a fashionista or a regular Carmendy.

97 days ago I started the Curly Girl Method (you can read about my experiment HERE).
Today, I fell off the wagon. Well, a couple days ago I started to slip off the wagon, when I heated up my trusty old wide barrel curling iron. The soft waves instead of kinky curls! I could run my fingers through my hair without them getting stuck. Today, I fell off the rest of the way when I used shampoo for the first time in 97 days.

I had to.

I was turning into Aly Sheedy from The Breakfast Club.

Vinegar rinses were helping but not enough. No one wants to see a grown housewife scratching her head like she has lice.

All in all, my thoughts on The Curly Girl Method are as follows:

I actually love not using shampoo. I probably will continue NOT using shampoo nine out of ten times. My hair is much softer without it, less coarse, and I think it may even be growing better, cross my fingers and pray the rosary, amen.

I never followed the two conditioner rule. Seemed like a waste of time to me. I also never bothered with the don't-use-a-towel rule, for two reasons: I hate microfiber almost as much as I hate shadow boxes, and when I walked around the house with a tshirt (the other CG preferred method) wrapped around my locks, my husband started to referring to me as "Swami."

I was blow drying, upside down with a diffuser. I was also washing my hair upside down, which gave me a frightening view of Gloria, my muffin top, but also gave me a bit more volume and the curls up top formed better.

Although the curls looked pretty, my hair is not very thick and I was starting to notice scalp peeking through when my hair was "clumping" and curly. Not pretty.

But the main reason I'm only doing the CGM half-@$%ed is because I hate washing my hair everyday and I could not for the life of me get the curls to look decent on Day #2 or 3. If I straighten things out a bit with a wide barrel curling iron, I can go 4 days without washing. And that makes me a happy, happy camper.

Amen.

For cutting your own hair (yes, I do this. I hate getting my hair cut. I find the leaning over backwards while washing excruciatingly painful, hair stylists cannot be trusted with scissors, and I despise staring at myself in a mirror for that long), I recommend Miss CurliLocks video on youtube. I do NOT recommend my son's method:

Other beauty products and hints I've been loving lately:

Soap. I don't do froufrou body washes. I love, love, LOVE the smell of soap! It's probably bad for my skin but I love the smell of clean. Caress is what my mom has bought for years so it smells like her house, too. A bonus, although if they start making a Scone scent, that'd be an even bigger bonus.

Tights and boots. Gloria is more comfy in tights and a skirt than she is in jeans most of the time. My boots are black and not these pictured above. I forgot: I have a camera now. I can quit stealing other people's images. For other style ideas I love, try to copy, and drool over, visit my Pinterest style board.

Ulta lip crayon. Moisturizing and not too spendy (especially with a coupon). I've been loving red lately, but that may be due to my heroine, Lizzie, and her red lipstick.

The only deodorant that kept up with my Nutcracker schedule.

Olive oil for face wash. I know I've said it before, but if you aren't using the Oil Cleanse Method, why not? You should.

Also, I've heard good things about detoxing juices and smoothies, and even things like cayenne pepper/apple cider vinegar/honey tonics, for weight loss and such, but I really can't recommend enough my own personal coffee/half and half/sharp cheese/ice cream/merlot tonic. It'll make you live longer and put a glow in your cheeks.

You're welcome.

What are YOUR favorite beauty tricks/products/routines?

Groceries and Costco and Breastfeeding

I now have too many great grocery stores to choose from! I only live in a small town, but boy howdy, we're blessed with great shops.

We have:

The Grocery Outlet (my favorite)

Winco

Fred Meyer's (everyone claims it's too spendy but honestly, their eggs and almond milk are ALWAYS the cheapest)

Food 4 Less (cheap, but dirty, busy, and I can never find anything)

Trader Joe's (adorable but smallish. Love their tortillas and Two Buck Chuck, though!)

Costco


My parents got me a Costco membership, so now I have to know:

What are the best things to buy at Costco?

Walk me through it, because this was the first and last time I shopped at Costco:

I had just given birth to Gianni-Be-Good. I think it may even have been my first outing. First outings after having a baby are monumental, life changing, desperately needed, and always, always, always, horrible.

We were broke as a joke but everyone kept telling me to use Costco.

You'll save so much money, they said.
It'll be fun, they said.

I spent half my week's budget and only bought toilet paper and milk. I left in tears. I was leaking down my shirt, my body hurt, and when my husband gently asked me to cover up better when nursing (in my car. There were pedestrians walking by) I nearly murdered him in several different ways. The baby was crying, my back hurt from my trendy sling, and I just wanted to never leave my house again.

Hence, the fear of Costco.

I used to love grocery shopping, back when I never left the house. It was like, my only outing. My only reason to wear actual clothing. Now I leave the house quite often, and I'd rather grocery shop LESS, even if it means spending more at once. (Though I may have a heart attack the first time). If you hear a loud scream, it's me.

Do you grocery shop once a week? Twice? Twice a month? I have friends who only go twice a month, but my math has never been good and doubling everything I buy sounds...weird. I just can't imagine my groceries lasting two weeks! Is this possible?

What should I buy at Costco and what should I avoid? I'm the kind of person who will actually go to all those above mentioned stores all in one day, just to get the best price on everything, thus spending five times more on gas. Unless you talk me out of it.

So, please. Thoughts?