Fun Links for No Reason

I laughed so hard I snotted a little when I found this site. And I only found it by reading this really funny site (be sure to click and read about the Carrie Edwards stuff in the upper right).

Foodie Two Shoes

There was a time -- before children -- when I filled the gaping hole in my soul with various and sundry things. I still have fond memories of shopping with abandon for dry clean only shirts and slacks, sky high pumps that hurt like the devil but looked glorious, and that silky, smooth luxury -- Chanel lipstick. Red, of course.

I was also first in line at any new restaurant. Could converse knowingly of the extent of their wine list and the freshness of their produce. Was that a purée or a coulée? Zabayon vs. sabayon? Had you made the mistake of asking me, I could guarantee to bore you for at least a quarter of an hour.

These days, lots of things have changed. My luxury shopping sprees have turned into mad dashes for necessities. The location has gone from Parisian to Target. Shoes are flat and rubber soled for traction. And the closest my lips have come to Chanel Red was when I chewed off the Burt's Bees lip balm waiting in line at the bank.

But perhaps nothing has changed more than my approach to food. There are literally dozens of new restaurants in town that I have never set foot in. My old favorites could have turned into Bingo parlors by now for all I know. These days I count it a victory if we are eating anything that didn't come equipped with its own toy.

As I was preparing dinner tonight, I realized that I didn't have much further to fall. Having reluctantly opened the door to recipes involving Campbell's Cream of Whatever (seriously...substitute one for the other and I dare you to tell the difference), I have begun a rapid decline into the 1950's world of convenience cooking. Tonight's recipe involved frozen broccoli, white rice, canned soup and Cheez Whiz. I shit you not. Cheez. Whiz.

Now in the spectrum of things that are not good for you, foods that contain more than one 'z' should immediately send up a red flag. When both of those z's are a product of deliberate misspelling, you should immediately run the other way.

Now here's where the crazy comes in. Because I substituted REAL cheese and FAT FREE Cream of Whatever Soup, I convinced myself that this dish was somehow healthier and more desirable as a result. Certainly not up to foodie standards, but more than pleasing to palates aged 3 years or less.

As I sit here in my Cool Mom Jeans, pleasantly sated by my mushy/yummy meal, I have no illusions that Frank Stitt will ever call looking for advice. But if he does decide to publish a cookbook for the pre-K crowd, I think I might be able to offer a tip or two.

Blue Jeans Blues

Here's some important research from the mall front. Bunco girls...stop reading now. You've already suffered through this once.

This is nothing truly earth shattering, but I just thought I'd share. Since having the trips, buying jeans has become as much fun as shopping for swimsuits. Here's what I've learned so far

-- High rise means just below the belly button. Obviously, whoever came up with that did NOT live through the eighties where high-rise could hit anywhere between your waist and the bottom of your bra, but whatever...I'm old and out of it.

-- mid-rise hits well below the belly button and just screams "hello muffin-top"

--low-rise says "No, I'm not a plumber. Why do you ask?"

--super low-rise lets anyone within 20 feet of me see what a c-section scar looks like.

With most denim being geared toward pre-teens or skank hos (the line gets blurrier every day), I have been severely traumatized in my quest to own enough jeans to see me through a normal mommy week -- meaning something nasty gets spit, spilled or wiped on me daily, so I need several pairs. Finally, I came across the BIG STAR Maddie fit at Buckle. It's high-rise (just below belly button) and totally covers my giant badonkadonk without looking like the patented, JCPenney "Mom Jean" (tapered leg, waist hits about the third rib, makes your ass look like its own planet...you know the one). This one actually looks fairly young and hip with it's boot cut and cool washes. Best of all, I was able to sneak down a size in some of the washes (the lighter ones are made of a stretchier fabric).

While this is the perfect jean for moms, there is a drawback to purchasing anything from Buckle. My friend, Kim, swears that she can't set foot in the place because it requires an Olympic medal in texting and a birthdate well after 1990. I should point out that Kim looks about 17, and raises the cool points of any room she enters by half. So just be prepared for some culture shock as Gen X meets Gen-OMG, she did not say that!. Also, the sales staff must get paid more for selling the smaller sizes, because even if a jean is tight enough to cut off blood flow to your extremities, they will try to talk you into buying the next size down.

If you share my shopping angst and firmly believe that all pants should come with a kangaroo pouch to store your stretched out mom belly, hopefully I've saved you a little time in the dressing room. And to paraphrase Kim once again...May all your backsides look fierce!

The Rumors of My Demise...

...have been greatly exaggerated. I love ripping off Mark Twain. He had a snarky comment for most situations. As there have been expressions of concern for my well-being, I thought I'd pop up a quick post to say, "I'm O.K.!!" just dreadfully busy with my real life right now. Sadly, that leaves little time for my virtual one. The two have been in high conflict lately with me mentally fleshing out the rough outline for my novel (that I plan to start writing roughly two decades from now) when I should be focusing on meal plans and boo-boo kissing. Then, when I finally do get to sit down at the computer, I can't think of anything except recapping the best baby giggles and big boy funny phrases of the day. But if these are the worst of my problems, I really have nothing to complain about and a lot to be thankful for.

I promise to try and do better in the days ahead. Thanks for taking time to check in.

J.