Club 40 in Austin

In about 11 hours, I will abandon my children.
In about 15 hours, I will leave my husband.
In about 20 hours, I will be kissing a woman.
In about 24 hours, I will likely be drunk.
It will all be documented.  But most of it NEVER shared.

These are my women:

Skinny, pretty bitches, aren't they? 

And this is after about 6 hours of drinking.

But I love them in spite of it.

My high school posse of seven gets together every couple of years, and honestly, it's one of the most precious, important things to me.  We travel from Iowa and Nebraska and Minnesota and Colorado and Montana and Idaho.  They are smart, terrifically talented and multi-faceted people, and when we get together we aren't people's moms or wives or employees or bosses or doctors or designers or marketers or artists or corporate brass.  We are Julie and Paige and Meem and Dee and Steph and Liz and Jen.  People with histories and victories and tragedies.  I know every one of these chickas has my back, and I have theirs.  And they know EVERYTHING about me, which makes you feel a little sorry for them, no?  Do you want to know how much I love them?  Do you?

I would poop in front of them.

That's right.  Go ahead and cringe.  But if you are a woman, you KNOW that's a big deal.

Here we are re-living what was probably a middle school slumber party move:

Since I'm the tallest person, I'm always the heaviest too, so I spared them all the ER visit and didn't get on the top of the pyramid.  You're welcome, girls.  This was taken two years ago when we last met in a gorgeous house in Scotsdale, Arizona.  That weekend was such total and complete bliss, and we all cried when it was time to leave.  I've been so effing busy at work and with the kids and our basement renovation that I haven't even had time to think about this trip much until tonight, and I'm finally starting to get so excited.  It's the oasis in the desert.  With tequila.

Since my air travel experience wasn't fantastic last time, I'm sure to load up on reading material.  These are the two books I'm lugging along for my drinking reunion weekend:

That George Washington book is a bigun.  It is making me rethink my aversion to a Kindle.  There is just SOMETHING about opening that book and turning the pages and feeling the heft of it in my hands.  I'm a little old school about it.  But a Kindle would be a dream for the trip.  Maybe in Large Print. 

I briefly considered taking Todd "Hot Nuts" Epstein with me for the trip, because that cheeky squirrel is always up for a party, but if airport security took him away for any reason, I would just die.  I wouldn't get on the plane.  It nearly killed me that they took my forgotten mini Swiss Army knife out of my makeup bag.  I begged them to let me keep the tweezers, because with the Chia Brow I need to pluck every 3-5 hours.  I'm taking my muffin top because I have nowhere else I can put it.  I'm taking a camera and swimsuit and Prilosec and Aleve, and the rest doesn't matter.  Which is good because it is now nearly 9 p.m. and I haven't packed yet.

Au revoir, Wifers!  Have a great weekend, and I'll be back all full of verboten tales on Monday.  Or Tuesday.

UPDATE:  Oh bloody hell.  I got sucked into Property Brothers on HGTV, and now it's 11 p.m. and still no packing.  Up at 6:30 to get kids to school, still have to pop in at work for a couple of hours, flight at 1 p.m., what was I thinking? 

Damn you, Property Brothers and your stylish renovations.  Damn you to hell.

The Baffling Case of the Oprah Moment

Today I'm going to go all Nancy Drew on your asses and go undercover on an investigation into the secret self inside us all.  I have a little friend love I want to share with y'all, and I'm sure it will embarrass my friends, but welcome to the world of CH and my children, dears.

 Friday I was going to a hooker show, and en route I picked up a friend of mine from college.  I won't embarrass her here, (ANGIE), but I walked in her house and my jaw dropped.  Not only is she gorgeous, inside and out, but so is her house - and she does all of her decorating and makes a lot of her accessories.  Right in the front door was this kick-ass lamp that had a burlappy-linen shade, and there was a big letter "P" painted on it (last name).  She made it.  Right around the corner was a big framed print that had all of the addresses at which her family had lived in the past 20 years (she moves as much as I do!), and it was cool and edgy and sentimental.  Yep, she made it.  Beautiful photo arrangements and art and accessories, all made by her.  She is an undiscovered treasure, and I hope she either opens a store or starts selling on etsy or begins decorating people's houses, starting with mine.  Talent, talent, talent.  In the words of Vince Vaughn, She's money and she doesn't even know it.

I have a great posse of friends in my previous town of Mount Vernon, Iowa.  Some of them I talk with regularly, and some of them I don't talk to nearly enough and am WAY overdue for some time with them, but everyone gets tied up with kids and lives and such, so I know it will happen eventually.  Today I was missing Mount Vernon and all of the creative people I know there who always bring the funk.  My friend Tommie is an amazing photographer, and she has a show at Cornell College in Mount Vernon, so I loaded up The Son and we drove to see it.

 She is too legit to quit.

The show was amazing - an abandoned warehouse in Burlington from (I think?) the 30's and 40's that still has cans of pineapple and toilet bowl cleaner ("Also works on automotive radiators!") and coffee beans on the floor, and she took photographs of the place with its natural light.  Amazing.  The pics I took of the pics are crappy because A) I am not a photographer, and B) there was a glare on the glass, so you'll have to take my word for it, they are fantastic.  Then I went to her store, where she had these lovely baubles that she made:

I know, right?

You can like her store site on facebook at "fuel....art and espresso"

Remember when I talked about making spaces for yourself in your house or wherever to feed that creative side?  I had Tommie take pics of her studio a while ago for your viewing pleasure.  She has an incredible eye, as you can see from these pics.  This is a room behind her garage.  I shall live here:

A bed in the studio.  Because you just never know.

But if I stay out here I might steal all of her stuff.

I left her house and drove to her store, where I walked out with a cappucino, a homemade cookie as big as my head, a bag of coffee beans, a kickass bracelet, and a smile. 

I drove to my friend Jana's house, and saw her new bathroom and some things she's done in her house to change things up, and I wish I'd taken a pic of her mantel.  The entire fireplace area is painted ruby red with a mantel she had made by an ironworking dude in town, and then had a large yellow pear sculpture that is the twin to my pomegranate, made by a local MV artist, on said mantel.  It is very dramatic.  This woman is amazing - she has a Biology degree, has a published science textbook in Spanish that she wrote, she can knit amazing socks and mittens and sweaters, makes funky screenprinted sachets, is an amazing cook (she HATES it when I rave about her cooking, but really, it is the shizzle) and worked for a taxidermist. 

While I was there, another friend of ours, Elizabeth, who lives down the street, came over to borrow cumin.  She is a photographer and adventurer and made a documentary on the Lincoln Highway and has taken her children to India and Turkey and has her junior doing a semester in Germany right now.

I drove home from this soul-replenishing visit and thought about all of the amazing women I know.  Women who are brilliant and creative and edgy and fan-fucking-tastic, all the while being humble and truly good and kind people.  Just, wow.  They are inspirational, and make me strive to be better.  And I'm not the only person who knows women like this - we all do.

Oh my God, I'm having an Oprah moment.

Sweet baby Jesus, that was scary.  Let's get Julie back to normal - um, they all have great racks, too.  Except Elizabeth, but she has a huge personality.

So go forth, Wifers!  Create your space in your home, even if it's just under a couch where you secretly eat Oreos and listen to ABBA.  Find your happy place - but not in public, you may get arrested.  It is contagious.  Well, hopefully not what you find in your happy place, but if it is, contact your physician. 

UPDATE on Monday a.m. - I'm wanting to respond to Peruby's comment, lest anyone get the wrong impression from this post....I'm not saying people need to DO more - Good Lord, there are days when I'm not able to use the bathroom for 12 hours - but more about making sure you take a little time for yourself, and carve out a little space for you.  Because joy comes out of that space you make for yourself, whatever that may be.  And out of the four women featured, only one of them is making money from those things they love. I work an average of 45 hours a week and travel a lot in the fall, but I make time for the blog, which usually takes about 5 hours a week, and I don't make a dime from it.  But it's MINE.



Day 4 - Ponies and Unicorns

I spend a lot of time bitching.

It's sort of what I do.  Usually it's in some kind of smart-ass, trying to be funny way, and sometimes it's serious WTF, why doesn't anyone else see the dirty dishes/laundry/floors/bathrooms?  Today, however, was all Unicorns and Ponies, and since I'm blogging every day in August, I'm going to tell you all about it. 

I got up, and Current Husband had made a pot of French press coffee, which was dark and rich, like my men.  I had some delicious fresh fruit salad in my fridge, which made me feel good that I was doing something healthy.  Yay, points for responsible adult living!

I got to work on time.  It wasn't nearly as hot today.  It's Thursday, so it's close to the weekend, always a good thing.  I had ironed pants for a change.  My hair looked okay.  Work went well.  I got a coat of paint on the shelves for The Son's room (Tomorrow's blog?  My incredibly abysmal carpentry skills.)  I had a lovely time in the last few days with a good friend who is visiting, and her shiny happy daughter who stayed with us.  It was my mom's birthday and we had a nice chat.  My co-worker mentioned that she needed a donut, and I surprised her by going out and buying donuts.  (Yay for unrefined sugar products!  That was a total win-win.)  Another co-worker brought his brand new baby boy to work, and he teared up when a group of us gave him a large gift card.  My lovely neighbor texted pictures of her adorable new baby (born yesterday!) to me and we made plans to have some celebratory wine together when she gets home from hospital.  And?  I get to hold said adorable baby!  And give him back when he cries and go home and get a good nights' sleep!

I left work a few minutes early to get my hair highlighted and cut.  My gal handed me a glass of pinot grigio when I walked in the door, sat me down, and went to work.  She always does a scalp massage in the middle, which I love, and my hair turned out great.  I went home to find CH had made dinner for the kids, and 10 minutes later I walked out the door to have a margarita with a friend I hadn't seen in over a month, and we had a great time catching up.

Was it a perfect day?  No, because those are really rare.  But for all of the days that I feel down or like things aren't going my way, I have a day like this and think that life is Pretty Damn Good.  The simple pleasures of French press coffee and scalp massages and good talks with good friends.  The joy of seeing a family with a newborn baby and all the hope and love that goes with it.  The relief of having a haircut go well!  No unexpected curveballs!  A sugar donut!

That was today's Day in the Wife.  I hope you have a Pretty Damn Good day too.

Get In The Van. I Have Candy. The End of the Road.

Well, Gentle Readers, it is here.  The day I finally stop talking about our trip.  But I only get 10 days of paid vacation, so it's sort of a big deal in my life.  I love my job and all, but who wouldn't rather get paid to stay at home and pursue their own interests?


Like stalking musicians.


So we're in Nashville, and I've cased The Black Keys off-the-grid recording studio.  As we're walking away from the front door, a dude with a spiderweb tattoo on his neck and black skateboarding clothes pulls up at the front of the studio and gets out with a computer case and two bags of groceries or takeout food.  He is punching a code at the front door as I'm begging the kids to go back with me and get a pic taken with him, but the kids are all, "You're going to get arrested!  Let's get out of here!" and I informed them that they were never going to be good stalker groupies if they don't work their way up the food chain in these situations, but by the time I finished my life lesson the guy was in the building.  We left the studio and went to the diner that Dan Auerbach said in an interview that he frequented three times in 24 hours - Brown's Diner.  They had cold frosty mugs of beer and delicious burgers, but no blues-rock musicians.

Photo of me, creeping on Dan's lunch spot.

Our stalking was not yet finished.  We moved on to Third Man Records, owned and operated by Jack White of the White Stripes, Rancotuers, and The Dead Weather.

Jack and Meg White, when they aren't busy being humans.

The kids were more comfortable here because this studio is open to the public.

Making rock star faces after buying stickers

 for their cello cases.  Because we are cool like that.

We also visited Ryman Auditorium, where Minnie Pearl, Johnny Cash, Hank Williams, and Patsy Cline performed.  I'm not a country person or a Grand Ole Opry person, but you can't deny the history in this building.  Kudos to Nashville for preserving it after the Opry moved to their new location on the outskirts of town.

YD now wants to get a new dog and

name it "Minnie Pearl".  I'm sure MP would

have been honored.

Nothing else too exciting happened after that, except that I found some awesome stuff in the funky shops along the Vanderbilt University area, we had amazing burgers at Fido's, and the houses in the historic, Civil-War era neighborhoods are amazing.  Oldest Daughter noticed me looking around the city, falling in love, and on the last morning she put her foot down.


HER:  "No.  It's not going to happen."
ME:  "What!!?"
HER:  "We are not moving to Nashville.  I see you thinking it."
ME:  "I don't know what you're talking about.  But it IS a cool city."
HER:  "I am starting high school this year.  If you wanted to move, you should've
done it in 2009.  You have me, and then two more kids to get through high school, so you are stuck for the next 10 years."
ME:  "Well I'm 42 and I don't have as many years left in my life, so if I want to move, we move.  I'll take you to some nice concerts.  WILCO is playing next week."


Would I move to Nashville?  In a heartbeat.  But of course I was thinking about the kids and their schools and friends, etc.  But there is something about your 14-year-old telling you what you can and cannot do that makes you get a little obstinate.  Because she's right - I'll be 52 before I can move without it adversely affecting anyone.  I'm starting to see why my parents put a hot tub room in my bedroom three weeks after I left for college.

Dinner on the ride home.  With a side of Dramamine.

We sweated, we stalked, we lived to tell about it.  The kids got in the van.  They had candy.  They threw up.  But not in that order.  I hope everyone got a chance to take a little summer getaway.  I am now officially done talking about this trip.


The End


p.s.  It is August, which means it's the Second Anniversary of this blog.  Last time I had a giveaway and then didn't get the prize out for seven months, so that was a personal FAIL.  This year, since I have been slacking a bit blog-wise, I am going to post every day this month.  I didn't say they will be good posts.  This is definitely quantity over quality.  And I *might* end with a giveaway if I think of something good.  Thanks for reading, Wifers!

I've Got Four Minutes

I took Monday off work because the kids are on spring break this week, and I wanted to sit around in flannel pj's, drink Starbucks, and put together a 750-piece puzzle with the kidlets, which we did in four hours.  We are totally hardcore when it comes to our puzzles.  Oldest Daughter DJ'ed so I could hear her latest musical offerings (she currently has a huge crush on The Fray), The Son showed us some breakdancing moves, and Youngest Daughter made a mixture of Dots, Sour Patch Kids, Gummy Life Savers and Twizzlers for our snacking pleasure.  It was so awesome that I missed my days of being a relatively unemployed freelance writer, hanging out at home with George the Superpet and the kidlets. 

*sigh*

However, the lure of hooking pulls me back, and Current Husband took the chilluns to the Wisconsin Dells.  I texted him today to ask if he was having any luck hitting on single moms in bikinis, and he replied "Beluga whale in a seal colony", which is untrue but made me laugh.  He's a funny one, that CH.  I stayed home because the Hooker job only allows me 10 vacation days a year, and I've used two, and CH and I are going to see The Black Keys over Fourth of July weekend (YAHOO!!!) and that will take two vacay days, and with my six remaining days we want to do a couple of trips with the kids this summer.  I only have four (FOUR!!) summers left with my oldest at home, so it's quantity time with a nice dose of quality.

Did you read between the lines here?  I am home.  ALONE, save for George the Superpet, who is really good at cuddling.  I am so rarely home alone.  Last night after work, I met a very dear friend whom I haven't seen in a while, and we had deliciously cold white wine and some spicy basil chicken noodles at a Thai restaurant.  Outstanding.  Tonight, I am meeting another very dear friend to have a facial and a pedicure with a gift card I've been carrying around, and then we are going out for a margarita!  Whoo-hoo!  Then I go home to cuddle with George the Superpet.  Tomorrow night I am staying home and cleaning and going through things of the kids' while they are gone, hello Goodwill, and then they are home late. 
I miss my lovely family, of course, but HELLO!

Sheer. Bliss.

Nothing like a few days of decadent fun to recharge your batteries.  So take a little time for yourself, Wifers, if you can.  It's spring!  Time to bloom.

Have a terrific week, I'm raising a muy delicioso margarita in your honor tonight!