Super Fun Giveaway

I'm sharing this giveaway with y'all, but just so you know, I intend to win. Sorry. But feel free to try anyway.

Preppy Paper Girl is my friend Laurie, who lives in Atlanta and is incredibly talented and so, so fun. Seriously, her cute stuff is way addictive. You've been warned. Don't blame me when you find yourself knee-deep in personalized luggage tags, gift enclosures, and notepads.

And happy birthday (on Friday) to Laurie, the preppiest gal I know!

Not a happy post

Dear blog readers, I'm asking that each of you prays for a girl who is in my small group and her family: Melanie's sister-in-law was killed in a car accident earlier today. Her [8- or 9-year-old] niece Katie was taken to UAB but she passed away as well. I think Melanie's brother has two other children who were not in the car. I really can't imagine anything more tragic, so please keep this family on your minds and in your prayers.

Life is so very short. Go hug your families.

Oops!

I forgot to announce the Memory Road winner! (Shocker.) Congrats to…


KATIE B.

Thanks to all who e-mailed me with entries!

Katie—e-mail your prize preference and I'll forward on to Summer.

Free chicken from The Oprah

So you've all no doubt heard about the free KFC grilled chicken that The Oprah sponsored, no? I'm not going to lie. I tried to print out the coupon. What was to lose? Two pieces of grilled chicken, two sides, and a biscuit. Free. Translation: If it's nasty, toss it out guilt-free. Plus? Free mashed potatoes and macaroni and cheese. And a biscuit. That's dinner enough for me any day.

But alas. I had to install some kind of wonky coupon-printing software for Macs, and I was at work so I couldn't add extra stuff to my computer without a password. I figured it was a sign.

Oh right. My point.

I was reading on the AJC (which I read every day) that some folks had had problems with the offer. I'm sure because it involves something as complicated as asking KFC employees to scan a bar code. But no matter. That wasn't the most disturbing part of the article.

Y'all, I'm sad to report that KFC's busiest day of the year—a day on which you may not use the free chicken coupon—is Mother's Day. Mother's Day. I'm so sad for these moms, really. My mom would file for a legal separation if I tried to pass off KFC as fancy fare for mom's special day. Psshh.

Hello, it's me…

With brown hair. Ta-da! Yes, I did it on purpose. And yes. It actually is a little darker in person.

The Look

This is hilarious to me, mainly because everyone I know has gotten this look from her mother. Heck, I still do. Watch for it about 16 seconds in. It's SO perfect.

The Universe? So mad at me.

I don't even remember what all had happened to me back when I started this post (April 21), I just remember it had been a crappy couple of weeks. And I had had it. I don't know what I ever did to the Universe, but he was not happy with me. And then? Then one day I went to work, I was having another crappy day, and I was hungry. I got a mid-morning e-mail inviting me to tasting. I'm lucky because as a food copy editor, my partner and I have secured a spot on the list. She couldn't go that day, so I went down alone.

Now, for those of you who don't work with me, tasting can be hit or miss. It's always delicious, but sometimes it might be light. Or all desserts. Or all cheese-based dishes (no problem with that, btw). But that day. April 21. The spread before me was nothing short of amazing. And for 30 glorious minutes (and 5 more at my desk when I had more steak and green beans for dessert) the Universe smiled upon me again. Everything was fantastic. And I just wanted to share the list with you. I feasted on…

Two kinds of pasta—cheese and olive
Two kinds of oven fries—Italian and Jerk seasoning
Steak
Balsamic green beans
Dijon green beans
Lamb
Chicken Cacciatore
Two kinds of cheese grits
Asiago cheese rolls
Potato salad
Apple tart with ice cream
Blackberry jam thumbprint cookies

Coming tomorrow

I know, I know. I promised to update the zip line adventure. And it's coming. My home Internet is FINALLY up and running swell again. I have a big day tomorrow, but tomorrow night! Tomorrow night I promise to give the full rundown on our adventure…and it didn't end after the course either. Oh no. There was more to come! Tease, tease.

Talk to y'all taters later.

Check it out: Memory Road

My friend Summer works for a publishing company that's launched a new—and really cool—venture: Memory Road. It's backed by Don Logan who many readers equate with the good ole days. (I heart Don Logan.) Anyway, I digress. You can read more here.

Check out the site, become a fan on Facebook, and order some really cool stuff from Memory Road! Summer actually gave me a 1978 Yearbook a few months ago, and it's super fun to read through and compare facts to 2009! Wow.

And now—drum roll, please—we're going to have a little trivia and a giveaway. You're going to have to dig around on the site a bit. Leave your answers in the comments section, and I'll draw a winner on Sunday evening, to be announced Monday, May 11! You can choose between a Remember When Magnet or KardLet, your choice of year.

1. How much was a gallon of Vitamin D milk in 1943?
2. "Sip a smile, relax a while" was the tag for which bottled drink campaign?
3. In 1924, a former president died in his sleep. Name him.
4. How much was a gallon of gas in 1959?

Good luck!

*They do discounts for people planning reunions or parties. These would be such awesome party favors!

image courtesy of www.memoryroad.com

I got a new job

I'm sure you saw this coming. I am now an official Stella & Dot Jewelry Stylist. Direct sales skeptics may be rolling their eyes right now. And that's okay. I've always been one of those too. But I really, really love this line and I'm going to give it a shot!

I have my very own Web site here, and of course—here comes the plug—I'm currently booking parties. You know where to find me!

Do I have a story for you

But I don't have the energy to tell it properly right now. I am exhausted. Suffice it to say, we were total rock stars today. I am so proud. I don't care if that's boastful or not!

To hold you over…

Stephanie


Amy


That's 30 stories high, a half-mile long, 70 m.p.h.

I know. We are incredible.

What have we gotten ourselves in to?

Commentary and more pictures to follow. I'm very, very concerned that I'm going to pee my pants. We found out tonight that we are participating in the Full Extreme Adventure. Dandy.

Sweetening the pot

AND—just for you out-of-town folks—if you place an online order in my name, come back and leave a comment here. I'll enter your name for a drawing to win this:



Your choice of gold or silver, any initial. That's right. Absolutely free. This is one of my favorite necklaces that Stella & Dot offers. So perfect for layering with a longer necklace which is super popular right now. I'm always thinking of you, dearest, because I want to keep you stylin'. Sorry I didn't think of this earlier!

All orders should be placed by Saturday at 2 p.m. Good luck!

Shameless plug

I'm hosting a jewelry party tonight! Yes, hello, I'm back after nearly a month—and with a solicitation. How tacky.

But okay.

Here's a link. Cute, cute stuff; great price ranges, I think. And if you'd like to place an order, I kindly ask that you choose "Jerry LaSuer" as the stylist and then choose "Stephanie Gibson" as hostess.

In case you haven't guessed, my goal is a free one of these.

Detroit? Really?

Boo. This is a long way from sweet tea and pleasantries. Is there a worse city in America? Leave your thoughts in the comments.

Another sports post [sorry]

But this is…I don't know. Weird to anyone else? Sorry, I'm at the airport, totally bored, taking advantage of the free Wi-fi, so I figured what the heck. Kind of the mantra for 2009 anyway. In big ways and small ways.

Twitter Nation

Only a Dawg is going to get that headline, but whatever. The rest of you may still read along.

I've had a Twitter account for a while now, but to be honest, I'm not that great at it. Between the blog and the Facebook updates, and the Gmail statuses and Twitter? It's just a lot of clever that I don't have. Plus, I don't really get it. I mean, I don't want the Twitter updates imported to Facebook. And you have to log in to Twitter to read responses and other people's tweets. So, it's basically like FB. Or e-mail. Another something to log in to and read.

But now, since I've seen that my boyfriend is on Twitter, I'll be logging in much more often. Go ahead. I dare you—even you dudes—to not develop a crush on The Mark Richt. Betcha can't do it.

You know it's a bad day when…

Lunch is courtesy of the vending machine. (Julia taught me well.) I had popcorn in mind but there wasn't any. I thought I had a nice balance: diet but with caffeine, salty, and sweet. Vinegar-and-salt chips almost beat out the Cheez-Its, but I'm a Tom's girl, and we didn't have the right brand. I was being ambitious with the Zingers. I could only eat one. Oof. (Yes, could someone please come clean that nasty keyboard? Seriously, the conditions in which I work…)



Really, all I wanted to do was stare out the window. It's distracting. And more interesting. Besides, I look directly out on to The Magazine's garden, and there were people out there working today. I kept zoning out and watching them. (Notice my Etsy.com art in the upper right corner. It's yellow. That's my Mary Tyler Moore painting and it totally says, "You're gonna make it after all." And I read, er, sing it to myself every. single. day.)



Thank goodness for Amy and this trip! I cannot WAIT to get out of here this weekend, and I hear the hotel is awesome! One of my friends is actually going home (to Nashville) Friday night, so while Amy is off working her butt in those jeans, I think I'll hang with ME. And that's all the planning I intend to do for the next three days.

Wa. Hoo.

New Obsession

I am really digging silhouettes lately. I want a framed one to hang…somewhere. But for now, these would tide me over. Loving the shop name—Peppersprouts—too.

Mmmm, Totino's

It looks like a bug burrowed through the bottom of my pizza crust. I was a little disgusted.


But I baked it anyway…


Turned out it tasted just fine. Am I weird? Do you guys eat these?

This is why you don't go to Publix hungry

Look what I did.

I was strong, bypassed the Oreos. But the Danish Wedding Cookies jumped right into my buggy. I had three as an appetizer tonight.

Ditto for those Totino's pizzas. How nasty are those things? I love them. And I usually enjoy my pizza with a handful of Goldfish.

That cereal? I NEVER buy it at Publix because it's more than a dollar over Wal-mart's price. But I should own stock in Post Selects cereal. I can put away a box of Cranberry Almond Crunch. Seven servings per box? Yeah right. It'll be gone Friday.

I threw the celery in to show you I'm not a total loss. Although I eat that covered in peanut butter. And the pretzels? Well those get a healthy scoop of hummus.

And…that Viennetta. What can I say? Good marketing. I mean it promises "A Dessert Experience." And Publix didn't have the right kind of Dove miniature ice-cream bars. I was powerless.

I'll probably put some of that whipped cream on my dessert experience. I allow myself a little Redi-Wip on my first—and only first—cup of coffee. But Publix has been out of fat-free Redi-Wip for weeks now, so I had to get the store brand light kind. It's just…eh. It'll do though.

Let's Dress Amy: UPDATE!

I think it's clear that Amy should wear jeans and heels for her meet-up with HSBF. I'll be sure to check out her butt before she leaves our hotel Saturday night, don't worry.

Bring on Spring [Sports]

I know that I'll never be accused of being a tomboy—please, my big earrings will blind anyone within a 5-mile radius and too much movement will chip my pedicure—but I do love the sports. Not playing them or anything. Lord, honey, no. Sweatin' ain't really my thing. (Unless it's for my beloveds, mmmwah Georgia Dawgs, cheering them on from Section 117, Row 30, Seat 19. That I will sweat for.)

And now? Now we are approaching baseball season. Skip right on over March Madness. (My bracket totally blows. I tumbled fast.) Baseball is my second fave after college football. I watch more pro ball than college. Braves all the way. Hello? I cheered during the Dale Murphy days, and I got to witness the "worst to first" team of the 90s. I tomahawk-chopped my way through high school, politically correct or not.

I was allowed to drive to Atlanta back in high school, the fab four (Amber, Ben, me, Matt), to go to weekend games. Well, actually, one of the boys always drove. (I still can't believe my parents let us do this. I mean, 17, downtown ATL? And not a cellphone among us. One time we stopped at such a sketchy gas station that a police officer reprimanded the boys for leaving us alone in the car while they went inside to use the bathroom. Or maybe it was to buy more water? We always had huge water bottles, the four of us. We were totally obsessed with drinking water. Little teenage freaks.)

Oops, Mom, Pop. Did you guys know that story?

We parked far away—in unlit parking lots—paid some crusty man $8, and walked beneath overpasses to get to that dirty ol' Atlanta-Fulton County Stadium. Then, in college, we skipped class to head over to the shiny new Turner Field for the businessman's special: cheap seats and $30 hot dogs. (I hit the college games, too, because they were free with ID, plus you usually got free ice cream and you could work on your tan too.)

Okay, anyway, I digress. This post is all over the place. That's been a trend lately. I'm out of my medication.

All this leads to the question: Did I ever tell y'all about the big ginormous obsession I had with Mark Lemke, he of the 1990s Braves? Second base? No? I have a hat he wore during a game. Sweat and grass stains and all. I am [still] so proud of that $20 hat. It came with a very official letter of authentication. Ahhh, yeah. The Lemmer. I could recite all kinds of random stats—personal and sports-related. Some I still remember. (Hails from: Utica, New York. Birthday: August 13, 1965. Full name: Mark Alan Lemke. Three triples in the '91 World Series. Switch hitter. Hit a game-winning single in game 3 of that series. Knuckleball pitcher.)

Scary, isn't it?

I religiously clipped every sports article that mentioned his name. I stayed up all the way through extra-inning games. I conned my little brother into handing over the autographed ball my dad got him. (Rickey came home with this before I was a fan. I tend to make these decisions overnight, and I give it my all.) I had piles and piles of Lemke's baseball cards. Glossy photos? Check. I'd beat anyone who came near my stash within an inch of their life. I'd tape 1 p.m. games on my VCR, because I didn't get out of school till 2:30.

I'm gonna say this is the last thing most of you would ever guess about me. I like to keep you people on your toes, okay? Play ball!

Now, Lindsay. Come on.

She must know better than this, right?

I quote: "If people would just leave my personal life alone—because it's really not that interesting—then I could land a great role, but all the sicko fans and the noise is so distracting," she complains to E! News.

Now, Linds (may I?), this is where my Southern mama would slap your face and tell you to take some responsibility for yourself. (Disclaimer: My Southern mama has, in actuality, never slapped my face. But I'm sure she's wanted to. I have a sassy mouth.)

In fact, I'd venture to say that folks are fascinated with your personal life because it is such a train wreck. Has been for quite some time. And, you know what, don't bite the hand that feeds you.

I love how celebrities can just go totally psycho, go to "rehab," and then demand that people stop focusing on The Crazy. Now, as someone who has had much experience with The Crazy, La Lohan needs to realize that, just as The Crazy slowly takes over, it slowly leaves too. And you have to prove to people that it's gone. And not by publicly lambasting other people for your disaster of a life.

You, little sister, aren't helping your case.

And while we're at it, can we get that good red color back in the hair and also? Less gray in your skin. Ew. Personally (because I have a whole mess of them in the summer) I like the freckles.

Lohan continues: "I just want to live the dream that I've worked so hard for since I was 4 years old…I'd like to have my own charity, do work overseas, be in Oscar-nominated films, write movies…"

We're about three coke-snorting trips to the Chateau Marmont bathroom stalls past just wanting to live the dream.

"It would be really nice if people would believe in me. I don't drink, I don't do drugs and I don't lie," adds Lohan, who's been to rehab three times.

Really? Well this is Stephanie, who's been to rehab ZERO times, and I do NOT believe you. Because we tried that. Twice before. And because you've been to rehab three times.

And then, then I got to the end of another article about LL today, and I was reminded, with great sadness, that she is 22 years old. And, bonus!, her mama is crazy.

Causing a stink

This is for real, you guys.

P.S. To the blog patrol: I'm at home for lunch.

My friend and I, we need your help

I'm tagging along with my friend Amy this weekend while she's in Nashville for work. It's mostly a girls' trip with the exception of a VIP, ahem, appointment that Amy has on Saturday night. With HSBF. Good luck figuring that one out. Anyway, we thought we'd solicit opinions.

Amy hasn't seen HSBF in quite some time. She needs to look hot, yet casual. Sophisticated, but not like she tried too hard. Flirty AND breezy but not standoffish.

So. We've narrowed it down. Should Amy wear look-at-my-butt jeans and heels? Or a check-out-those-legs (but just a peek!) skirt-and-casual-boots combo?

No shirt options.

Well, not because she doesn't intend to wear one, but because she's buying a new one*. Going shirtless would not be sophisticated.

And me? Oh, I think I'll get a pedicure Saturday night. Or maybe, if ME makes it to town, we'll go to dinner. Or maybe I'll hide in the bushes and spy on Amy and HSBF. Whatever, I'll have my cell on vibrate in case Amy should need an emergency exit. What are friends for?

Okay, vote to the right!

*If the shirt is found soon, I'll try to get some photos of Amy's options up on the blog. I can't be posting nekkid pictures of Amy though. Someone might report me for questionable content.

Bitter

There's a little tiny part of me who didn't want him to succeed, at least not at first, because I'm mad at Matthew Stafford for leaving Georgia. I really am. If that makes me a bad person, well then, fine. At least I'm big enough to admit it. It also makes me selfish because I could care less about his education. I just wanted one more shot in 2009. So anyway, this article didn't fill me with any sort of pride, just anger. Anger that flushed my cheeks and made me grumble at the computer screen.

And yes, perhaps I should get a grip.

Where I sleep

So, here's my room. (For those of you who have been to the former apartment, it really isn't much different. Although a few things have changed ;) ha.) Not done, obviously, but in better shape than it's ever been. I think I've finally chosen a color but haven't started the painting. That big ol' Dr. Seuss chair was an obstacle, but I like the arrangement now. Sorry I didn't remove the robe or clean off my nightstand, ha ha. It pretty much always looks like that. I'm working on something for above the bed. I have some plates I want there, but I also want to mix in some vintage-print fashion posters that I've found. One day at a time.

*The green-and-black silk pillows on the bed came from the most awesome store somewhere around downtown Nashville. I'm so mad that I absolutely can NOT remember the name of it. I'm going to Nashville with Amy this weekend and I really would like to hit that store again!

Spring=New sandals, tans, and FOOTBALL

I absolutely, 100% just cannot wait for the 2009 Georgia Bulldogs football season. This is, of course, no different than any other year. I can never wait. And right about now, the bug bites me. I suppose it's a combination of the warmer weather and the ticket order form in my mailbox. (Too bad mailing in that form requires an entire paycheck as well. Time to phone the Rickey.) Anyway. It's totally worth it. And to tide me over, just for a bit, is the G-Day game. Love that spring game. Admission is free this year. It's the second-best season in Athens. (Duh, fall is always best.) The hot dog man will be on the street. And this year, I've reconnected with an old college friend who owns a new Irish pub in town AND has free housing for me so I can go on Friday night. Score.

And I'm sorry. Do you see Uga sitting there, his big butt planted on a bag of ice? Yeah. No one can compare to my college mascot. I think even the meanest, most irritating Gator fan will admit that. You can't hate that precious little pup.

Total side note: Next time, I'll totally take a pure-bred white English Bulldog over an engagement ring. Seriously. The dog will set you back more anyway.

Everyone is super excited that the game will be on ESPN this year. Okay, one, I am not. That scares me. I don't like anything that might jinx a decent season, especially a lot of preseason hype. I mean, just look at last year. And two, well, nothing compares to seeing a game in person. Not in Athens, the sweetest college town on the planet. Especially in April, before the 90° games of September are upon us. I can sweat with the best of them, but a runny bulldog tattoo on my cheek does not a pretty Stephanie make. Besides, I'm totally going to Tivo the game and watch it again later.

Before the game I'll do the total alumni thing and shop the packed-out bookstore for new shakers, T-shirts, and other UGA junk I don't need but have to have. And when this game is over, I'm walking across campus and downtown to The Taco Stand. I just cannot explain the feelings I have when I'm in Athens. Am I alone? Does anyone else feel this way about your college town? Probably not. There is no town greater than Athens, Georgia. Sorry. It's a total fact. Ask me. Or Mary Beth.

Yeah, so, UGA 2010 is sounding more and more appealing every. single. day.

Signing off, thanks for indulging my walk down memory lane!

Thank you, dear Lord

The Oreos are gone. Now I just need a friend with a little willpower to accompany me to the grocery store from now on. Otherwise I will surely wind up with a package of full-fat chocolate cream-filled cookies (See? I just can't escape my job!) in my buggy. And the vicious cycle will start all over. Once again.

Stop worrying about my gift

This is what I want for my birthday. Cause he's awesome, and so is this T-shirt. And it'll be perfect when I re-enroll at UGA in 2010. I already have two roommates and a place to live. Tuition and what to study are but two teeny-tiny details. Hello, Taco Stand, Jittery Joe's, and Milledge Ave. Waffle House. Peeps, I'm serious.

Such a cougar…

I know this makes me totally creepy, it does, but I have such a big crush on Jesse McCartney! I mean, please, he's so cute, and he has that precious little song out right now, and oh my Lord. I'm 10 years older than him. Well, nine, actually, but close enough. I think, in this situation, we should round up.

I thought it might make me feel better to be up-front, get this off my chest. But now I just feel like a dirty old lady.

Dear Google

I just love you. So much. Please hire me. Then I can move to California with my friends AND have a cool job. I'm a very hard worker and I don't wear inappropriate clothing to the office.

Please and Amen.

Someone missed the memo

Don't they know that the economy sucks? And, also, if this is such a great deal, why do I keep getting notices. Over and over again. Urging me to participate. Before all the spaces sell out. For the past three years, they've been just-about-to-sell-out. Hmm. Seems like TailGAte Station isn't doing that well. Even though the $4,500 savings is tempting, I think we'll pass this year.

PS: We usually get free parking in a spot much closer to the stadium. Even though the walk back is usually all uphill (inevitable in Athens) and my Dad's legs are 3 feet longer than mine. Whatever. Then I don't feel bad when I eatza all the pizza after the game.

Wow. That was cheesy.

Get it? Ha. Cheesy. I'll stop now.

Last one, promise!

Here's the new slipcovered swivel stool from Ballard, monogrammed by my sister. Love it. (It needs a pillow. Don't worry, I'm on it.)

And I found a container to hold my loose soaps in the back bathroom. I've been looking for something to hold the owl soaps (that Brooke gave me) upright.

New tablecloth & more Easter decor

I had to set up a card table for Amy's birthday party the other night. I wanted a tablecloth and I couldn't decide between fabric to match my dining room tablecloth or a complementing toile I found at work. My Mom suggested a reversible one, so that's what she made me. This is her first tablecloth. Then I did a little Easter arrangement in the middle.

Another [long] craft post

Hope you aren't getting bored of these. My sister did tell me that I hadn't been very funny lately. (Thud. Butt, meet reality.) But don't you want to see what I was doing the night I fell?

front door (I want to paint the inside and outside of my front door Begonia by Benjamin Moore so bad, but I'm pretty sure that isn't allowed.)



inside front door



living room details below







the dining room table (and an in-progress shot to show you that, at one time, that plant was alive)





dining room buffet





kitchen details, below: bunny towel on oven handle; middle: tea towel and egg by the stove; bottom: Easter soap by the sink

Please indulge me for a minute

Easter decoration shots (as promised) first from my parents' house.
the kitchen table (sorry it's blurry)



detail of place setting



on the bar in front of the sink



on the buffet in the foyer



detail of buffet



My very favorite thing that I did there was the coffee table, and I guess I didn't take a picture of it! I can't imagine what I was thinking. The table is square, and I put down a grassy rug and used Easter egg branches, bunnies, and eggs. I'll have to wait on my Mom to send a picture of that masterpiece.

Milk's favorite cookie

I'm sure that after I make this confession there will be audible gasps.

I really only like to eat half of an Oreo.

But wait! Redemption! It's the half with the filling!

I've tried them dunked in milk, of course, and they are tasty. But after a few cookies fell apart in the package and I ate the halves separately, I discovered that one-half cookie + cream filling = just the right ratio for me.

And sometimes—hold onto your seats—I intentionally break my Oreos apart, eat the side I like, and throw away the plain cookie half.

That's right. I waste Oreos. God's special gift to me, and I just throw 50% of the package away.

And, just so you don't think I'm totally nuts I'll tell you that I always eat them with a tall glass of milk.

See? I'm not totally weird. Although sometimes (okay, often) I pour the milk into a Champagne glass.

So. Yeah. I'm totally weird.

How do you take your Oreos?

Tip

Flowers don't last long in a bathroom where the occupant takes 25-minute, steaming hot showers daily.

(Yes, I know I need to refold my towels.)

Craft Room coming together

The bed is almost done, thanks to the awesome monogram my sister put on this pillow. Mom bought me pillow inserts for the pink polka-dot shams this past weekend. I ordered a down comforter (with a PB Teen credit, score!) for the duvet. Just need to raise the bed skirt up off the floor; it slides but my friend Amy suggested using an egg crate on top of the link springs. The foam will hold the bed skirt in place. And I'll probably add another mattress to the bed because I like them high.

I am so domestic. And so girly. Oh well. Cheers!

And they call this fun

Look what my "friends" roped me into today. Actually, it didn't take too much persuasion, although my hands immediately started sweating. (Okay, y'all know about me and the hand-sweating, yeah?) Anyway, believe it or not, this is for work (I won't give anything else away), and I'm pretty excited about the zip line. My dad has actually done this, at this exact place, and he seemed pretty confident in the safety (and fun!) of it all. I'm mainly terrified of those bridges. I'm probably going to wear a Depends. TMI? Ahh, cram it. YOU aren't doing it.

Am I missing it?

What's all the commotion about? (For some reason, every time I use the word "commotion"—which is more than you might think—I also sing "Come on, baby, do the locomotion" in my head. I dunno.) Really, really are we still talking about Kelly Clarkson's weight? And what's the big-freakin'-deal? She doesn't look fat to me. Not. at. all. Sure, stick her next to Paris Hilton and there's gonna be a little contrast. But fat? I don't think so.

Bring Trader Joe's to B'ham/Woodlawn/Crestwood/Anywhere. Please.

If you're on Facebook (and of course, you know I think you all should be), then click here to join this group. Please, please, please. Trader Joe's is awesome. Brooke said so, and I trust her. Then she took me, and now I know it's true. If we could get this accomplished and rope in Crate & Barrel and Houston's then The Ham really would have it all. (Because, you know, Nordstrom is coming!!!! I'm more than a little excited, even thought it's three frickin' years away. I wouldn't mind a Neiman Marcus, but hey, I won't press my luck.)

Look! Someone wrote a song for me.

Isn't that so sweet? I mean, really, very thoughtful.



Thanks to Amy for sending this my way.

March [Birthday] Madness

Amy's turn! I waited till late so I could post a link to the Facebook photo album here. Happy Birthday, Amy!

I found a way to make extra cash

Got this email offer from my friend Jam the other day. I should totally do it, right? I mean, it's so me.

Jam's Crunk Fitness
Instructor Certification Workshop
THIS WEEKEND BECOME A
Jam's Crunk Fitness
INSTRUCTOR
Get paid for doing something you LOVE...
on your own schedule



Okay, we're not friends. I went to one hip-hop dance class that she sponsored (failed miserably) and wound up on her email list. But make no mistake. I can straight up get crunked (crunk?). Whatever. I can. And who doesn't want to be highly popular with Crunk 'n' Sexy Six-Pack Abs, hmm?

Flashback Saturday

Anybody remember this? I'm about to die, I'm laughing so hard.

Happy Birthday, Julia!

We miss you tons and tons! xoxo

P.S. I have something to send you, but I didn't think you could fully appreciate it if I wasn't late. It's my trademark.

Mushy Post Alert

I'm going to need this song performed at my wedding. Bonus points (for me) if I'm actually marrying Joshua Radin. I've been doodling our names together in my diary.

Ha ha. No I haven't. I don't have a diary.

I met Joshua Radin (I like to use his full name) a few weeks ago at his concert at WorkPlay. He totally hung out after his show, taking pictures, signing CDs, and chatting. He hugged me when we met. Okay, well he hugged all the girls, but my hug was extra tight. Then he winked at me when he signed my CD. Or maybe he had a twitch. I nearly fainted. I mean, a super cute guy who sings? Swoon. Oh yeah, he's funny too.

Why cleaning is dangerous…and I'm probably dying

I fell down again tonight, folks. Yeah, yeah. It happens a lot. This time I was trying to vacuum, and because I now have two fat kneecaps, a broken left wrist, and a bruised shoulder I don't think I should attempt this chore again. You know, for my own safety.

I look super hot tonight, as I've been unloading all kinds of crap from my car: faded yoga pants (not sweats, A.!), a black t-shirt, flip flops, and dust. Dust is my accessory tonight. Anyway, after I plugged in the vacuum cleaner I turned around, caught the cord in my flip flop (somehow, don't ask), and there I went. Slow motion. Pitched forward and just fell flat on my face, arms stretched out. For a brief second I stabilized myself on the nearby chair. Too bad it was the rolling chair at my desk. I pulled an armpit muscle. Add that to the list above.

I guess it's all my fault, really. I was cleaning up Spanish moss from all over the table where I'd been setting up my Easter/Spring decorations. [Note to self for next year: Spanish moss makes a bloody big mess. Always line containers with plastic.] You'd think I'm an amateur. I shouldn't have been doing this tonight because I have approximately one million things to do before I leave town tomorrow. But that's how I roll. When I'm a little overwhelmed I procrastinate. Instead of knocking out my to-do list, I start new (and messy) craft projects.

Okay, moving on. I've been losing my balance and/or falling a lot lately. Some might say this is genetic (hello, Dad), but after a little scientific research via Web MD, I think I could be dying. Here's what I've narrowed it down to: Vertigo. That's right. Laugh, go ahead. Know what causes vertigo? (I ruled out the silly causes, such as headaches or an ear infection.)

Inner ear disorders, such as benign paroxysmal positional vertigo (BPPV), Ménière's disease, vestibular neuritis, or labyrinthitis.

Decreased blood flow through the arteries that supply blood to the base of the brain (vertebrobasilar insufficiency).

Brain tumors and cancer that has traveled from another part of the body (metastatic).

See? You feel bad now, don't you?

Hair pics

This is mostly for Julia. I feel a little silly posting so many pictures of myself. Although, I suppose if I felt that silly I could've just emailed them directly to her. And I'm not gonna lie. I enjoy the Photo Booth.

what I usually look like


pulled back on both sides


twisted back and pinned up, in black and white because that seemed more appropriate



P.S. I listened to "You're So Vain" during the above photo shoot.
Okay. That's a flat-out lie. I listened to "Heard It In A Love Song" by my fave: The Marshall Tucker Band.

March 4, nineteen-fifty-who's counting?

Happy Birthday, Dude!




Love,
Bone

Dear People Magazine

This is not a Celebrity Fun Fact. Okay, it's a celebrity fact, but it certainly isn't fun. It's just gross. And I could have gone my entire life without knowing this.

Celebrity Fun Fact

Megan Fox

While filming Transformers, she lost two toenails from running in boots.

I'd like to be reimbursed for the Asian-style Pot Stickers Lean Cuisine I lost after reading this.

Sincerely,

Your Loyal Reader, Stephanie

I need to show you something

My hair is darker than it's been in, I dunno, several years. You probably can't tell but I totally can. That's why I'm pointing it out here. Plus, in order to take this picture, I could justify a few more minutes on Photo Booth. My inspiration was the March Allure cover with Julia Roberts. I'm liking it, may even go a little darker next go-round. My hairdresser, Tavia, didn't go quite that honey-and-caramel this time because she didn't want me "to run out crying."



In the long run I figure this will be more economical. I mean, get real. I'm not going to stop getting my hair colored, but when it's darker I can go a little longer in between touch-ups. And now that my hair is longer, I don't need maintenance cuts as often. Who says I'm not fiscally responsible? Psshh.

Next up: How do I get her lips?

Watch This!

Click here to see my awesome friend-since-teenagehood Amanda. We're both products of the C-town, which makes us immensely cool. Anyway, she's done a series of videos for myrecipes.com, one of our sites. She's so super fab. What's that? You need a fantastic employee? Call her!! (You might remember some of Amanda's signature hilarity from this post.)

Wow. I do believe that's a record for most links in one post!

There is no greater disaster than greed

And that's what's happened to more than a few of the families featured on Extreme Makeover: Home Edition. It sickens me. There is no excuse, no none, for this. Most of these families received these homes because they were already in financial ruin. I wish there was some way to stop these people from using these homes as loan collateral. I'm not even going to climb on my soapbox. You'd be reading for hours. Grrr.

On a quote kick

Isn't this one perfect for me? I'm totally fancy. In public. I'm a total wreck at home. Ha.

It's because I live by this quote from Coco Chanel: "In order to be irreplaceable one must always be different."

I think saying someone is "different" is Southern-polite-speak for "weird." But I'm okay with it.

I like the way this woman thinks…

When you are unhappy, is there anything more maddening than to be told that you should be contented with your lot?
—Kathleen Norris

I do not know Kathleen, but I think she's right. Truly, nothing more maddening. Yes? Also, I like the word "maddening." I'm going to try and use it more often.

Feeling generous. Must be the snow.

Here's a public link to my Facebook photo album of the snow. I don't have time to load it up there and on Slide.com too. I have to run to the mall to get a bathing suit for next weekend. Life in Alabama=never dull!

The Day After

Through rain, wind, sleep, and snow: the curls remain. Curls created with a flatiron, I might add.

Art Bash Rocked!

The theme: Pistons & Pin-Ups. It was held at Old Car Heaven in a [super-sketchy] part of Birmingham. I totally got my hair did. And drew myself a mole. Sneak peak below; album posted on Facebook. What? You aren't on Facebook? Oh well. Too bad.