Gone, but not forgotten

Soo... I moved to Wordpress, because it's honestly pretty cool. Not that we didn't have some good times, Blogger, but... yeah. You know.

Anyway, find me and my updated - I swear! - blog here: ohannie.wordpress.com. (The "Oh Annie" bit is from my friend Jasmine, whose response to pretty much every half-baked scheme I come up with is "Oh, ANNIE. NO." But using all caps in a link is just silly. As is NO!

2008: The year of learning new things

While getting ready to take a bath, New Year's Eve.

Norah: I have to go potty. I want to stand up.
Me: Um, I don't think that's going to work. Please don't try.
Norah: Daddy stands up.
Me: Yes, well, Daddy's body is different from yours, and daddies and boys can stand up when they pee.
Norah: Yeah. [thoughtful pause] Daddy's got all hanging-down things.
Me: [mental note to tell Rob to put on pants before leaving shower] Yes.
Norah: I don't have hanging-down things.
Me: No. You have girl parts, and they're all inside your body.
Norah: Yes. In my VIRGINIA.


I was all pumped about NaBloPoMo, because I was all, "Yeah! I can definitely post every day! Every day IN A ROW! I got this!" And then I realized I was totally kidding myself, because I can't update regularly when it's not an assignment - and given my track record in college (not a WORD, Jefferson) I am not likely to finish assignments. So I'm skipping out, but you're not missing much.

I've been suddenly, overwhelmingly, outrageously busy with family portraits, this being the season for that sort of thing. I blame the entire thing on my new BFFFF Kim, who talked me up on the Triangle Mommies bulletin boards. I keep meaning to use TM for social opportunities - they have mothers' nights out, and playgroups, and random events for mommies who just want to leave the house without wearing spitup or play dough in their hair, for pete's sake - but I've just been swamped. Who am I kidding, though, I love it. I love being swamped, because it means I'm doing something right... and then I get to have the grand visions and fantasies about my future studio, which will look suspiciously like Jessica's new loft, but with more pictures of Astrid the Wonder Mutt and her sisters.

Speaking of, here's the latest shot of the sisters - they're both looking in the right direction, can you believe it?

Don't be surprised if you see this on your Christmas cards, friends, because it's highly unlikely that they'll ever look in the same direction again. I think it only worked because I was singing "Itsy Bitsy Spider" at the top of my lungs, shaking my butt in the middle of our street. The neighbors already know I'm nuts, so it was okay.

I'm off to bed, at the ripe old hour of 9:30. Mostly I'm just cold, and I hate this whole daylight savings junk - it feels like it must be midnight or something. Why do we still do this? Indiana changed their minds about opting out of the whole program - if they can magically change time, why can't we all magically unchange it? Stupid DARK.

1-800-REALLY, GOP?

** I wrote most of this two days ago, but it seems I've developed strep throat and had to go lie down in the middle of it. As it turns out, Kay Hagan won, and I couldn't be happier - regardless of the issues, regardless of the fact that she's a Democrat, it just goes to show you that utter nastiness is never rewarded. Plus now Elizabeth Dole's roboto friends will stop calling me! Yay!

Confession: I live with a Republican, and I can't seem to make myself stop it. The GOP has brainwashed my otherwise sensible, lovable, funny spouse, and left me with this guy who's all "Rah John McCain! RAH, I say!" (They have also stolen my BFF, with whom, we have agreed, I shall never talk politics at the risk of short-sheeting her bed next time we're staying in the same house. FOR REAL.)

Can we just get one thing out of the way before I start the daily bitchery, too? Yes, I am quite enamored of That One. Yes, I believe in sharing wealth and helping others and all that other bleeding-heart stuff that my spousal unit (and you, friend, YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE) doesn't really get behind. As we have previously discussed, this blog is not a place for political debate, because I don't have time and I don't like confrontation. Moving on.

Cohabiting with Rob isn't really what's got me hacked about the election tomorrow, though. Honestly, the presidential race in general doesn't really have me as jazzed as it probably ought to - I'm going to do my part and I strongly encourage everyone reading this to do the same, but that's really all I can say at this point. What is KILLING me is the battle between this old hag and this other candidate who I know nothing about. I swear, Elizabeth Dole's robocaller left NINE messages here today, at at least four every day for the past week. Someone from the GOP just called and asked for me, and then verbally abused me when I said I was a Democrat. Seriously, she told me I was uneducated about the "things" at stake, and after asking me if I had kids, said that I needed to "get some focus on the real issues." I thanked her politely and firmly, said that I intended to vote tomorrow, and hung up. I have never hung up on a stranger in my life, so this just shows you how tightly my panties are twisted.

I don't care if Kay Hagan stabs puppies live on the internet - at this point, she gets my vote and a few extra, if I can convince the homeless guys on highway 15-501 to come with me.

** And now we're back to today, the day after election day, at 5:00 AM. I can't seem to sleep anymore, either because my fever is too high (103.1? really? Because I thought that was a radio station, not an actual temperature that a reasonably healthy adult could have) or because I've been in bed for about 18 hours. So I'm awake, seeing what everyone on TV has to say about the biggest news of the year. Fox News is, unsurprisingly, crying in their coffee; the local station is too focused on Bev Perdue and Kay Hagan to really talk about That One and how Yes, He Did win. All I have to say is, surely some things will improve. Surely life can't get any scarier. And surely I need to lie down again. This strep thing is SO not conducive to rubbing this one in Rob's face.

Halloween hangover

Yay, Kristen's first Halloween (and Norah's first in which she actually participated)! Oh, we had fun. We have ten thousand Tootsie Rolls and Norah's got pneumonia from trick-or-treating in the cold, and I have a blister from walking house to house in incredibly cheap Old Navy shoes, but we DID have fun.

Norah was Fancy Nancy for Halloween, for a couple of reasons - one, because we already had the dress and I suckered her into using it for both everyday and The Big Dressup. Have you not met Fancy Nancy? She's pretty precious, actually, despite my earlier refusal of all things pink and plastic. The books are cute - Nancy uses big words and explains what they mean, and declares that "everything sounds fancier in French." Which, of course, it does. And who needs other excuses to wear every accessory in the house?

So here's how it came out (apologies for the crapola photo):

This is at her school, where we had a Halloween Breakfast, featuring eight tons of pumpkin baked goods, several quiches (it IS French school, after all), and a full box of coffee for every grownup present. Look closely and you can see Kristen's carrier - she wore her bear bunting, but since she spent the morning in the Bjorn on my chest (as usual), I couldn't get a good picture. Somehow she didn't seem to mind.

We went trick-or-treating in Chapel Hill, home of the infamous Franklin Street Halloween Party - we didn't go to that, of course, but I did get a little rankled about the way the city treated that particular event. Traditionally, the event is enormous - 80,000 people last year, I heard - booze-fueled, and slightly out of control. However, "out of control" in this area is more like "traffic" in this area - clearly, these guys have never been to Fells Point, is all I'm sayin'. The CH leaders were all, "This is supposed to be a family show, college kids go home, no drunkies, grumble grumble grumble." I'm sure it's a huge expense for the city, and the police force loses years off its collective life, but I would imagine that it would just make the students go home and drink more on campus and throw their dorm furniture out the window. And now I can't wear my Captain Booty costume, darn it.

(I'm sorry, can we just recap something? Captain BOOTY? Seriously? What makes grown women, especially those of us who should deny the lure of the exposed garter, think this is a good idea?)

Anyway - the kid had a great time at what I'm calling "Franklin Street for the Chicken Nugget Crowd," and yes, she has a ripper of a cold, but the giant box of candy in the kitchen makes up for a lot. Mmm, tiny Snickers... Happy day-after, gang. Now go eat some stale Smarties.

Coupl'a things

1. Oh dear, The Rocky Horror Picture Show is on channel 12, and I may die from the high school nostalgia. Is this a band/theater geek thing, this tradition of checking out Tim Curry's bustier-clad bod every Halloween? Or do you all do it, even you cool people - do you flip past it while doing your channel-surf and then flip back for a minute, just to see if it's as insane as you remember? The last time I sat through the entire thing, I was 17 and making out with a boy in a hot pink wig at someone else's parents' house... I was wearing a tuxedo jacket and ludicrous amounts of eyeliner, and the whole thing seemed perfectly normal, if a teensy bit nerdy. Teensy.

2. I have to make two large casseroles for Norah's Halloween breakfast tomorrow, and I haven't even started. It's kind of funny - we're all making things and bringing them in, and yet we're all being charged $10 per family to attend. It's a fundraiser, so it's cool and all, but seriously. Doesn't "fundraiser" make you think of overpriced candy bars and wrapping paper? Candy bars do not require an hour of my time and two bags of refrigerated hash browns. Wrapping paper is not going to burn my legs when I accidentally set it on my lap while trying to down a coffee, drive to school, put on makeup, and be as fabulous as all the other mothers. Note to school: next year, let us consider chocolate. It's safer for people like me.

3. Speaking of makeup, time to shill for Bare Minerals! Have you guys ever tried this stuff? I was touring Sephora the other day, hunting for a pretty foundation brush for my sister, and the salesgirl talked me into letting her apply it to my face. She was pretty and chirpy and I think her name was Crystal, or maybe Cricket, but I don't care if her name was Adolf - she made me glow, and this is no small task these days. Children are murder on the glow (except for the glow in your HEART, am I right, Hallmark card writers? Hire me!) Seriously, it's great makeup. I've been a bigtime Clinique junkie, but I think we might have to break up.

4. Norah's going to be Fancy Nancy for Halloween. I bought the dress and sparkle shoes at Target, and the rest of it is coming from our various dress-up boxes. I'm kind of tickled that she wants to actually wear a costume - I think for a while she was a little frightened of the whole costumes-in-public idea. I'm pretty sure this is related to her hatred of the mall Santa, a big bearded man IN A COSTUME who clearly tried to burn her to death with his jolly red nose. (You'd think, anyway, given her last - and final - attempt at sitting on his lap.) But now she's three, and now she understands that costume + late bedtime = CANDY, and all three of those components are SO much more interesting now that she's experienced Snickers and gummi bears.

5. Rita's just opened down next to the new Harris Teeter, and I have died and gone to mango water ice heaven. Also in the same strip mall: Neo Japan and, lord help us, a Dunkin Donuts. My quest for thinner thighs is being thwarted by commercial real estate developers. Somehow, though, the injustice of this is a lot less injust when it's coated in vanilla custard. 'Night, all, I have a spoon to lick.

Holy WOW Halloween

So I'm pondering my blog reader, as I often do instead of writing my own posts - it's easier, and I don't have to remember whether it's "that" or "which" - when I came across this on Jessica's photography blog (I was just looking for office and workflow tips, and poof! Instant jawdrop!) If you're a crafty sort and you're pondering what to make your little girl for Halloween, DO NOT CLICK THIS LINK, as you will never, ever be able to top this.

The Marie-Therese Gown by Grosgrain

Norah saw it and her little bugeyes went woooOOOP! wide open, and I knew it was all over for me. If I don't win this gown, I will have to live in the yard and eat acorns or something, because the princess will not allow me back into the house without it.

In other news, Kristen rolls over (she does not, however, fetch the newspaper and/or slippers, which would REALLY be an accomplishment) and laughs. And is there anything cuter than a baby laugh? It's this gaspy, "puh-HAW" sound that you'd never know was a laugh if it weren't for her big old grin. When she grins, her tongue sticks out. In 15 years, I am SO telling her dates about this.