Guilty Pleasures

I usually spend Sunday afternoons racing around the house trying to get some chores done or trying to be super productive on whatever tasks I am facing in the coming weeks. This typically leads to my napping husband waking up (possibly because I shut the dresser drawers too hard or I dropped a bottle of bathroom cleaner- I drop a lot of stuff) and yelling at me for not relaxing and getting all worked up over cleaning the house.

This just makes me wish I had accomplished more. Sundays are typically my only day to get stuff done- between work, musical directing, church schedules, dog play-time and desperate attempts at getting to the gym/grocery store/car wash/wherever- chores don't happen throughout the week. It's a sore subject at our house.

However! I have FINALLY decided that I should nap or rest or enjoy generally lazy activities on Sunday afternoon. I chalk it up to the extra amount of tired that comes with pregnancy as well as the alarming inconvenience that it now is to make several trips up and down the stairs, carry stuff around, bend over/sit down/stand up or wear a mask while using potent chemicals.

My domestic instincts are struggling- but I am surprisingly enjoying this rest. Right now I am lounging on the couch with the dog asleep on my lap watching reruns of Scrubs.

While I am thoroughly enjoying this change of pace- I kind of miss crazy clean up days. Oh well- another day! Enjoy a day of rest, folks!

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What was I thinking?!

This morning I woke up thinking that I needed to find a project. A craft, an art or some kind of time consuming busy work thing.

What was I thinking?!? I am starting the third trimester of my first pregnancy, training my work replacement, co-directing a musical with my husband, raising a dog, decorating a nursery all on top of the standard list of day-to-day chores! What kind of crazy am I?!

I am desperate for a nap or an evening to do some laundry (good thing my husband and I collect clothes- we can survive unusually long spans of time between laundry days). I have guilt over leaving the dog at home alone for too long! More guilt over not giving him loads of attention when we are there. And while the nursery is painted and furniture has arrived- it is not decorated and there is plenty to do in that department.

What kind of project did I think I would start?!

Is it more troubling that as I am writing this I am thinking that I should learn to sew or go buy some paints?! I'm going to chalk this one up to pregnancy crazy and hope that this thought gently floats away until another - less chaotic - day comes.

To all you crafty artsy people... I envy you.

Ps- here is a quick shot of the nursery in progress- and part of the dog!


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Mobile (not Alabama)

Testing. Testing. 1-2-3.
In my quest for finding more time to write (you noticed, hasn't happened yet) I am attempting to become uber mobile and write from my phone when I can find a free moment on the go. So here we go!
Testing. Testing. 1-2-3.




- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

...And you were there, and you, and you, too!

I am mortified that it has been many many months since I have taken the time to sit here and type for a moment or two. I so enjoy writing these little thoughts out - I have just neglected to find the time lately. Truly, this is a shame. Many things have happened lately and surely, I should have told the www.

When last I wrote, we had been welcoming our puppy, Lenny, into our home for a few weeks. He's still here. He is almost a year old, just as stinking adorable and I have never met a more loving dog. Or a more needy dog. I have come to call him "Blister" because he is on you like a blister after a day of new shoes. My family has a habit of giving everyone a nickname or two or eight and will never again refer to a person by their given name after the nickname has been approved. Lenny has been called all of the following: Len, Lenny, Leonard, Lenny-Pie, Pie, Pup-Star, Tar-Tar (b/c my 2 year old nephew couldn't say "Pup-Star"), Mister Blister, Mister, Blister, Puppers, Pup, The POOPER, and so on. I am surprised that the dog knows who he is.

Not only does Lenny sleep on our bed, but he sleeps on my pillow. Well, half on my pillow and half on my arm. And he snores like a man. But he is so cute, who cares?

In other news, we have just started rehearsals for "Crazy for You" at a local high school - I love this project. Last year we had a blast directing "Wonderful Town" and I anticipate this year to be filled with all kinds of good times.

Last but not least - we are joining the parent club! That's right, we are expecting our first baby due May 7th, 2011! My husband has been yelling at me to keep blogging about the last few months of baby growing - and I wish I had, but alas - too much to do (and too tired!).

Lots more excitement headed our way - hope everyone has been well while I've been gone!

Changed for good?

The theatre person that I am loves to dress for the location. AKA- I enjoy a good costume. When I go to the theatre, I wish I could wear a gown (I realize those days are gone). When I vacuum I usually put on my heels & pearls. I feel like these environmental outfits make the occasion more special.

Ladies. The unfortunate issue of Clothing Appropriateness has come up several times in the last week and I need to take a moment to address a few thoughts on the topic.

I recently attending a stunning performance by Broadway Powerhouse Idina Menzel at the gorgeous Pittsburgh Heinz Hall. Seriously. Google it. It's a beautiful hall.

Ok. Never mind. Don't Google. I did it for you. Follow the link. Then check out all the options under the Heinz Hall tab at the top.

Heinz Hall Info

Alright. Gorgeous. Right? I know.

Back to the issue. While waiting for intermission to conclude I did what I always do (race to the little lady's room to beat the old ladies who take a really long time to go... and!) people watch!

I must say. I saw one young girl (there were lots of star-struck youngsters. Did you follow the Idina link? Didn't you notice that she is on Glee??) who had a really super cute dress on...

really cute ...for a backyard picnic. Oh, did I mention that she sported the backyard flip flops too? AND a black velour hoodie.

I know it's chilly in those classy places, but let's match the class in our wraps, ladies. And perhaps some shoes? (Flips are not shoes. I love them. Don't get me wrong. But they have NO PLACE in a theatre)

Second thought. Certain jobs require certain types of clothing. Other jobs allow you the freedom to be more creative and trendy in your choice of apparel. I am going to assume that we are all somewhat conscious out there and can step back for a moment and determine what clothing may be appropriate for your particular office versus what you can get away with. Let's put in some extra effort and maybe step up to impress (show the boss that you care?) and not just sneak the casual junk through.

Ok. Brief thoughts. That's all I have time for.

Be cute, y'all.

Blackberry Apple Juice

VS.

Or why everyone should own an iPhone.

There are many opinions flying around regarding various cell phones and their individual benefits. Top ranking iPhones and the thousands of different Blackberry brand phones often cause much debate around that New Phone purchase. Well. Today I was one-million percent convinced that iPhone wins.

I have personally owned an iPhone for about 2.5 years. That's right. The SAME iPhone (first generation, baby). I would have traded up... but the phone still works as wonderfully as it did the day I got it (we ARE trading up when this new iPhone comes out later this summer - just for kicks). Needless to say, my opinion has rested squarely on the side of iPhone for quite a while now.

The company that I work for has a large array of company phones that (unfortunately for them) are signed with a Blackberry carrying company and the frequency with which people trade in their phones in hopes of finding a bigger better version is dizzying. I take every opportunity to gloat in my iPhone glory when they complain about the ridiculousness and the frustration of operating these pieces of technology. On a very regular basis (at least twice a week) my boss looks longing at my iPhone while he pokes, shakes, flips and curses his Blackberry.

Today. Today, sealed the deal.

At the end of a very hectic (but good!) day I happened to be passing by the open door of an exec's office when a Blackberry came sailing through the doorway and bounced off of my foot, into my shin and then lay defeated on the carpet. I am positive that the surprised look on my face was priceless. I had been Blackberry'd. I laughed a nervous yet very genuine chuckle as I picked up this bruised (get it? Bruised? Like the color of a blackberry?) phone and handed it back to it's owner who grumbled of the frustration and hatred he harbored for the phone. As he apologized for the near fatal accident (fatal for the phone, not for me) he did not hesitate to hurl the phone into a corner where he was sure no one would be passing.

He has demanded a new phone be found tomorrow. Unfortunately for him, it will not be the iPhone. Maybe one day.

I share this story because I hope that everyone gets a good laugh out of it (I'm still cracking up) and if I can help sway anyone in the direction of purchasing an iPhone over a Blackberry - I can't think of a better tale of persuasion.

Puppy Love

We did it! We got my dog!

Friends, meet Lenny. Lenny, meet friends!

I have always loved animals. However, my pet-hoarding was kept at bay as a child by my very practical and wise parents (thank you). We had several pets while I was young. *technically, we had a few fish first... but I am going to bypass the fish that I cannot remember.

Pumper (named for a Pumper Fire Truck, courtesy of my then 4 year old brother - I was 2). I wish I had a picture of her (dad... a little help?). She was a German Shepherd / Beagle mix. Don't think too long about that one - it's a strange mix. She, however, was a great dog. She played, she protected, she obeyed -or so I remember. I was young, to me, she was perfect! She left us (cancer- very sad) when I was about 11 years old and my oh-so-wise parents decided we would wait a year or two before we chose a new dog (we were moving very close to that time and this was just smart).

A few weeks after we moved (I'm talking a month or so after Pumper went to the great kennel in the sky) we found ourselves at a breeder's home trying to pick which puppy we would take home. An adorable Brittany Spaniel puppy chose me. That's right. HE CHOSE ME. He was meant to be my father's hunting dog but I knew he would be my best friend - he chose me, remember? The breeder called him Nacho. Bad name. My father renamed him "Boone" -short for a really long inside joke of a name. Boone was awesome. Boone did not like me for long. He tolerated me - but I'm pretty sure he only put up with me because I knew how to get his treats out of the cupboard.

Boone never hunted with my dad. We couldn't trust him for nothing. We couldn't open the front door without having to contort ourselves around the 3 inch crack so he couldn't escape. I'm pretty sure he found a way to throw a party when my older brother and I left the house and he could have more of my mother's attention. But, boy, was he a beautiful dog. Boone left us a few years ago and left peacefully in his sleep. Despite his lack of affection for me... I still get sad and teary when I think about him.

**Tissue Break (I just told you about the tears - you should have figured this was coming)

Overlapping our time with Boone was a brief venture into the world of "why on earth did we get this animal" pets. A lizard (ew, right?) that was found in the new tropical plants at my father's work somehow made it's way home. He fried in his little home out on the front porch. Several fish won at the fair or purchased due to lack of winning one at the fair - all had their time in a bowl in our house. A hermit crab that must have been related to Hercules - the thing never had it's box cleaned or re-done. Never had a new shell, had a crack in his front claw, never got fed or watered, got thrown several times across a room (not by me!) and managed to live for YEARS. I know. I'm confused too.

I always wanted a cat. I was never allowed. I believe this is the root of my pet hoarding issues.

And this is an obnoxiously long post. Stick around for part 2 (and possibly a part 3) - coming soon!!