While discussing all things Clothing-Related yesterday with OperationPinkHerring (or just “OPH” for short) due to her latest Mission: Put Together (ie: let’s all try to dress better for work and then post the pictures to a Flickr group of our more put-together outfits for all to see and judge), I was all, “And what’s with the Ann Taylor Loft website tricking us and putting up loads of clothing items on sale for $3.88 and then having all of them ‘not available at this time’?”

I sent OPH the link to a super cute navy blazer that was marked $3.88 (!!) and she wrote me back immediately, “And that $3.88 jacket on Ann Taylor Loft had to be a mistake. $3.88???? I can’t even get the picture to display right now, but I’d still buy it for $3.88. ”

To which I responded, “there is TONS of super cute things on the Ann Taylor website for that price right now. But all of them are all “not available at this time” and I’m all ‘then take it down off your site, a**holes!’”

Because seriously, you can’t show me something for $3.88 and then not allow me to buy one in every color.

OPH said she likes the option to buy and return later, if needed. Although she did admit, “for $3.88, I’d buy it and keep it. And love it. ”

“You’re darn right you’d keep it and love it. I’d buy it in bigger
sizes and gain weight to fit into them for that price.”

OPH started searched the Ann Taylor Loft site with me and found a super cute dress for $3.88. “Damnit! Check it out, $3.88!!! NO LONGER AVAILABLE FOR PURCHASE!!!”

It got even better when OPH started looking at the maternity clothes on the site and found that some of them were also marked $3.88!!

She was bold enough to even say. “I would buy this maternity shirt for $3.88 and get knocked up just so I could wear it.” (Although I had to agree with her that it was the best thing to do. I mean, you should always base your gestating on cheap clothing options.”

And then I thought, “dude, I’m calling the freakin’ 800 number for Ann Taylor Loft and getting to the bottom of this!”

I spent the next 30 minutes on the phone with a lovely Ann Taylor Loft call-agent in Salt Lake City as she looked up every.single.item marked down to $3.88 to see if she could find me anything in any size close to my own size.

Okay, so we didn’t find anything. And my heart broke a little. And my Ann Taylor gift card sitting on my desk, mocked me. But dude, I have it my best effort.

So tell me, have you ever actually had any luck finding stuff as cheap as a kicky trench coat for $3.88?

(And while it isn’t $3.88, these Shade Clothing shirts come pretty darn close.)

*This does not mean I won’t stop shopping there and that I don’t love ATL. Because you know I love ATL.

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Did I forget to mention that I had a new post up over at SeattleMomBlogs this week? Um, sorry. Go and check it out.

Oh, and you know you want to discuss all things “Lost” over at WeHeartTV.

The night before The King and I got married, we met a bunch of friends at The King’s apartment before heading out to a local bar. I use the term “friends” loosely as they were mostly The King’s friends. I had only lived in Seattle a few months and hadn’t made any local friends. Yet.

While sitting in his apartment, waiting for everyone to arrive, I looked at the window and saw a couple walking across the street and towards the building. Although I hadn’t met them before, I was pretty sure it was The King’s friends May and Mr. May. They weren’t walked together. In fact, Mr May was about three steps in front of May.

They both looked upset.*

May and her husband were the last to arrive, so once they got inside, we all packed up and stuffed into a few cars to head out. The rest of the night was spent sitting around a table, talking and laughing. Most of the people there knew each other from their time in the art program in college together.

That evening we all joked and laughed about how everyone was practically related to one another. The King had known May and Smelly since their freshman year. He’d known Smelly’s fiance since 5th grade, and had actually introduced them to each other. Heck, The King had even known Mr. May longer then May had known him. And there I sat, the lone person at the table. I didn’t know anyone except The King. And he wasn’t even really paying attention to me.

A few months after The King and I got married, Smelly had her wedding. The King and I took the day off work and attended their ceremony inside the Seattle LDS temple. Again, I didn’t seem to know anyone else that was there. Until I looked up and saw May sitting here. We exchanged pleasantries. It wasn’t until after the ceremony was over and everyone was outside taking pictures that May and I started to talk. She was cracking me up left and right. And I was digging it.

After that night The King and I made an effort to hang out more with May and her husband. Unfortunately, they lived out in the ‘burbs, so we didn’t see them as much as I would liked. Fortunately, May and I both had jobs that allowed us to e-mail each other during the day. Unfortunately, May and Mr. May decided they were moving away from Seattle.

Mr. May had become disillusioned with his job in Seattle, so they had decided to pack their bags and move to Reno, where Mr. May’s family lived. (Reno!) I begged and cried. And yet, they still left. The King told me not to be so sad. He promised, “they’ll move back.”

Again, May and I were able to e-mail throughout our days at work. It was during this time that we really were bonded. We would e-mail about what outfit we were wearing that day, or about what silly thing our husbands had done the night before. You know, the important things in life.

(All of us together, the night before they moved to Reno, the first time!)

Again Mr. May’s job situation in Reno didn’t pan out. They decided to move closer to May’s family in Orange County. I wasn’t sure if their move to the OC was one step closer to them moving back to Seattle. But I hoped it was.

The King and I flew down to visit them in the summer. We stayed with May’s mom and took advantage of all the sun and fun that California has to offer. We even spent the day at Disneyland with May and Mr. May. Nothing more fun then four childless adults enjoying what Mickey has to offer. It was a fabulous trip and just reminded me even more how much I loved and missed having May around all the time.

A few months later, May informed me that Mr. May had been offered his old job back in Seattle. He was considering accepting. I tried to not get too excited about them moving back, while also praying that they would.

At this point, The King and I were just getting ready to move into the first house we built. We were digging what was going to be our new neighborhood and things were looking up with the prospect of the May’s returning to Seattle.

And things just got better. Not only did Mr. May accept his old Seattle job. But they bought a house in our new neighborhood. On our same street. Mere houses away from our new house.

May was going to be closer enough to almost be my sister-wife. I had visions of eating dinner together every night, taking nightly walks together, getting pregnant the same time, having babies in the same week, our kids being best friends, only to have them grow up and marry each other.

I had it all figured out. And I was happy.

(Me, May, and Smelly during a Girls-Only-Weekend to Portland.)

May and I did do everything together. Okay, we didn’t have dinner together every night. And we missed a few nights of walking. And we had our kids about a year apart. (Although we were pregnant at the same time. But only for about a week. And um, I lost that baby.) But other then that, it was Heaven.

After living so closer to each other, we decided to sell out house and start work on the new house. Even though May and I now lived three miles apart, we still hung out all the damn time. Sure we couldn’t walk together every night, but May was good to drive downtown to hang out at my apartment and I was happy to take the bus down to May’s house.

(Celebrating May’s birthday, weeks after Babboo was born. You’ll notice the matching skirts May made for her and her daughter.)

May was there to help me transition into being a Mother. She was there to help take advantage of my maternity leave. She was there with me to take Babboo to the zoo for the first time.

She was just always there.

And what made it even better was that Lil’ May was there with May.

Spending time with the two of them always made the day better for Babboo and me. It always made me smile and thank the Lord for blessing me with such good friends.

May and I started the tradition of Girls-Night-Out with our small group of friends. May and I were always the ones to organize the outings and May always choose her favorite restaurant to go to. Those evenings spent in the corner of the restaurant was one of the reasons I survived that first year of Motherhood so effortlessly.

(Vesper and May, enjoying one of many Girls-Night-Out.)

And then it happened. Mr. May decided he wanted to go back to school. Apparently his two degrees weren’t enough. He wanted to try out a whole new line of work. And crap, schools in Seattle are way too much money and darned it, it costs too much to live here.

They were selling their house and moving back to Reno.

(Oh Reno, how I loath you.)
Last year, for May’s birthday, I bought her a crate full of flowers to plant in her yard. I thought that, maybe, if her yard was extra pretty she wouldn’t want to move. What it probably did was give her house more curb-appeal and help it sell fast.

So, they sold their house. Made arrangements for Mr. May to start college in Reno. During this May discovered she was knocked up. They both quit their Seattle jobs.

And my heart broke more and more as their move out day approached. Instead of actually dealing with it, I just tried to ignore it was every going to happen. I (secretly) hoped that Mr. May would decided that maybe college wasn’t for him. I prayed that his job would offer him more money. I tried desperately to get him a job with my company. I begged and pleaded with my boss to just give the guy a chance. Alas, he wasn’t hired. During all this, May just kept packing boxes after boxes and making plans to desert me move to Reno.

I spent their last few days in Seattle helping May pack up her house (and by “help” I mean that I stood there talking to her while her sister in law did the actual packing.) I think I tried to contain my emotions and never pleaded for her to “never leave me”, but I may have said those words. I’m not proud.

(Look at May’s cute barley-pregnant belly!)

The King was out of town on business, but he flew home early to say good bye the friends that he loves just as much as I do. We spent the rest of the night laughing and eating McDonald’s and prolonging the inevitable. (While May’s sister in law just kept packing and working hard. Seriously, she was an awesome help to May. Much more so then I was.)

(I love how May and her family are all dressed in bright colors and The King family is dressed in all black. That’s how we roll.)

Eventually, I could no longer deny the time. My poor kid was up later then he’d ever been. It was time to say our farewells and go home to put Babboo in bed.

May and I hugged each other and I got in my car to leave. I was sobbing before we hit the freeway. Months of pent up emotions came pouring out. I was having a hard time breathing and I wasn’t sure if it was from my tears or from the sudden realization that I was without my best friend.

Of course May and I have cell phone with cheap long distance this time around. We still have e-mail and now I have this blog. So really, we’re still connected. And yes, there’s still a part of me that is dreaded this summer, without May by my side at the pool or at the park.

Plus, there’s that little baby she had back in December that I’ve yet to snuggle.

It’s a good thing May and her entire family are coming out to Seattle to visit us (ME!) in a few weeks. I’m seriously giddy with anticipation.

Happy Birthday May! Thanks for always being a good example to me. And extra thanks for doing it with just enough irreverence to make it fun!

*I found out, years later, that they were upset. Apparently May had asked Mr. May to help trim her hair. It did not go so well. Lesson learned, don’t let your husband give you a hair cut.

When I was a freshmen in college I started dating a boy sophomore. Without really getting into that toxic relationship right now, let’s just cut to the chase; Crusher and I dated most of my freshman year. We both moved back home that summer which was about three hours away from each other. The next year Crusher transferred to a major university quite a few hours away from the college I was going to.

Thus began my first official Long-Distance-Relationship.

Guess what? They suck.

I didn’t even really like Crusher, and it still sucked. I hated having to someone work my weekend-only job around driving the gazallion miles to spend a Saturday night with Crusher. Now my situation might have sucked even more since Crusher, for whatever reason, didn’t drive. (At all. I know!!) And he didn’t have a job. This meant that if we did do something that required spending actual money while we were together, I was paying for all of it. (Did I mention that I was also in school and trying to pay for what I could?)

I hated feeling the pressure to do well in school, work a part time job, and maintain my first real relationship. I hated trying to get my laundry done during the weekdays so that I wouldn’t have to worry about it on the weekend. I hated having to go without food so that I could afford to put gas in my car. I hated having to drive the hours to see Crusher after I got off my waitressing shift on Friday night. I hated trying to squeeze some roommate/college/study/family time in the middle of all of this.
And really, I didn’t even like this guy. I just didn’t know how to break it off with him. I was young and immature. And again, first real relationship.

In case you hadn’t heard; winters in Utah are brutal. And while I pretty much learned how to drive in the snow before I learned how to walk, it still wasn’t a great idea for me to be driving over the mountain pass from my small town college dorm to Crusher’s university dorm every weekend.

Blah, blah, blah, Crusher was a tool, blah, blah, blah, and an idiot. Blah, I finally broke up with him.

And then I vowed to never ever again have any part in a long-distance-relationship. I made a promise, to myself, and the God’s in Heaven (and my friends and family) to only date boys that lived within 15 miles of my parents.

While I spent less money on filling up my car, the boys that lived closer to home weren’t any less tools then Crusher was. (Maybe the dating years between like 18 and 24 are laden with idiot boys?) (Ah-ha, I’m on to something!) It was nice to not have to worry about driving over a mountain pass to visit my latest boyfriend, but still, boys….blah.

I used to go to The Big City to go dancing or to clubs, but I never met a guy there that I was going to date. Dude, I was very serious about my vow. No long-distance boyfriends. None at all.

My first husband literally lived less then a mile from my parents house. He was like an answer to my promise to the God’s to never partake in a long-distance-relationship. It was like I married him because he lived close by. I was lazy. I didn’t want to have to drive or rearrange my work schedule to spend time with my fellow.

After my failed first marriage, I must have realized, on some level, that this “staying close to home” dating plan wasn’t really working for me.

Enter The King and the 1400 miles between us when we met.

Thankfully that long-distance-relationship didn’t last long because I just packed up my life and moved closer to him. Easy, breezy.

(Yeah, not easy. And not really breezy either. But whatever. It’s been 8 years and we’re still here.)

My cousin, who is twenty, just got a new boyfriend. She slept over a few weeks ago (while The King was away on business) and spent the entire evening gushing over her new boyfriend. He seems like a very nice guy. He’s cute and going to college and has a nice family and is good to my cousin.

The thing is, this new boyfriend is going to university about four hours away from where my cousin is going to university.

She’s been drying the super duper long drive out to visit him every other weekend. Just thinking about this makes my heart ache and my butt hurt (that’s a lot of time sitting in a car). New relationships are always fun. Those first few months with a new person are magical. But dude, I don’t envy her.

Because seriously, I’m just too darn lazy to drive that far for a boy. The whole scenario brings back too many bad memories for me. Memories of not being appreciated and putting all my efforts and eggs into one basket.  And then having that basket run over by a Mac truck.
It’s times like these when I’m thankful that I’m married and that The King lives close enough to me that when I roll over in bed, in the middle of the night, he’s always there.

So tell me, even had a long-distance-relationship? How was it for you?

You know how we bought a fancy camera back when Babboo was born? Yeah, you probably don’t know since we don’t fully know how to utilize all the awesomeness of our fancy camera.

This weekend, while away for a well-deserved over-night excursion, we tried to use the fancy “timer” option that our fancy camera has always taunted us with.

“Oh, we can finally take a picture of all of us together for the interweb!” The King proclaimed and he pushed the timer button and prepared for a family picture to treasure for years to come.

And then we tried again and again to get a picture of us enjoying our snuggle time in the hotel room. Eventually we just gave up on the snuggle-time family picture.

The next morning, before heading out to breakfast, we tried for a family picture. Again. This time, instead of on the bed, we opted for the couch in the hotel room.

We weren’t too successful with the “family on the couch” picture either. Although The King did manage to get this lovely picture of the carpet in the hotel room.

Oh great, we are all actually in this picture. (I mean, our suitcase is also in the picture. But whatever, it’s a nice suitcase.)

The King was now confident in his skillz with the timer function. Now if he could only figure out how to focus. Hey, that’s hard. You have to twist the little thing on the front of the camera. It’s very technical.

After we got back home, I decided to try to figure out the timer and get a few shots of Babboo and me. You know, for posterity.

Crap, maybe this whole “timer” thing is harder then it looks.

Oh crap, and so is the whole “in focus” thingy. Especially when used in conjunction with the timer setting thingy.

Great. I finally get both the timer and the focus to work simultaneously. But Babboo choses to cock-block me and totally steal the shot.

Oh yes, the kid is not impressed with any of my mad camera skillz.

And let’s be honest…neither will any of you.

So tell me, what percentage of your pictures are as awesome as mine?

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Did you miss the Old 97’s on the Tonight Show last Thursday? (Let’s not talk about how lame my DVR was and how it only got ONE MINUTE of the performance). Anyway, go HERE to watch the Old 97’s in all their glory. Feel free to watch it over and over and over again. I did.

It’s almost May. Almost May 11th, more specifically. Which means I’ve been thinking a lot lately about two things:

• Dude, it sucks to be so broke right now.
• What in the hell am I going to buy for our mom’s for Mothers Day (see first bullet)?

When I’ve found myself in this gift-buying predicament before, I simply relied on the craft knowledge of my bestest friend May. But um, since May deserted me moved to Reno, I’ve been on my own in the make-your-own-gift category. But whatever, I knew I needed to move past that. I asked myself, “what would May do?”

May would get herself to the craft store and buy some supplies and make her own damn Mothers Day gifts.

So that’s what I did.

I decided that I wanted to make those cute little glass magnets that you see all over places like Etsy. Guess what? They are so easy to make and so cute, and dude, so inexpensive. They turned out so cute, that I couldn’t keep this craft knowledge to myself. I must share it with the interweb.

First off, you need your supplies. They can be bought at your local craft store. I went to JoAnn’s.

You’ll need: clear glass stones (found in the flower arranging aisle) Gorilla glue (you need extra strong glue to hold the magnet), strong magnets (they need to be very, very strong), decopage glue (I didn’t have any, so I’m using Elmers glue mixed with a tiny bit of water), and a brush (I’m using a crappy make-up brush) and of course, pictures to cut. (You can also use decorative paper, maps, or even magazine pages. I found the little stickers from my Moo Sticker Book were the perfect size!)

Next, find the picture you want to use. I’m using this adorable one of Babboo’s new hair cut.

Trace around the piece of glass that you’re going to use. (Each glass piece is different, so you’ll want to customize each one.)

Next, cut the picture.

A lesson-learned; you’ll want to make the picture smaller then the actual glass stone. (I didn’t figure this one out until I had made quite a few. If May were here, she wouldn’t have allowed me to be such a craft-reject.)

Next, brush a coat of your decoupage (or glue, if you’re too poor to buy decoupage) onto the back of the glass (the flat part).

Just like so….

(Thanks to Vesper for being my lovely hand-model.)

Another lesson learned; don’t use pictures printed out on your ink jet printer. The glue will just make the ink smear. You don’t want smeared pictures!

Next, brush another coat of decoupage onto the back of the picture that you just glued onto the glass. Make sure you put enough on there to ensure your picture is secure.

Set them aside, as you finish the others, so that they can all dry enough for the next step.

After the picture is plenty dry, apply a tiny bit of the Gorilla glue to the back of the picture. If you’ve not familiar with Gorilla glue (and you might not be), this stuff is awesome. And strong. And will ruin anything you let it touch. (Keep it away from your cute skinny jeans. That’s all I’m saying.)

Now you’ll want to apply the magnet (make sure you have the magnetized [is that the right term?] side out or it won’t stick to your fridge), to the Gorilla glue.

Press the magnet down firmly, to ensure correct placement.

Next, lay (lie?) your completed craft goodies out, preferable overnight, to dry completely. Lesson learned; don’t put them too close together as the magnets will be drawn to one another and will mess with the glue placement. The magnets…they are strong. You have been warned.

Wake up the following morning and bask in your (semi) glorious craft skillz.

Because, holy crap, they are cute. And fun. And inexpensive. Plus, I just know our mom’s are going to love them.

So tell me, what are you giving your mom for Mothers Day this year?

While my parents were in town for Babboo’s birthday, my mom was able to meet my older brother and his boyfriend for lunch. My mom said she was really impressed with his boyfriend. She said he was just a really nice guy with a “firm handshake”. (I’m not really sure what that means in this day and age. Do people even still shake hands?)

My mom also mentioned that my brother’s boyfriend looks a lot like my brother does.

Hum. I hadn’t thought that in same-gender-attraction you might come upon someone that looks a lot like you and that you might actually be attracted to them!

And really, how does that work?

Did my brother look at himself in the mirror one morning and say, “dude, I am one handsome son of a bitch. I really need to find a man as attractive as I am. And then date him.”

Isn’t that really the most vain thing a person can do? And also, the most awesome?! It’s like you’re announcing to the world that you know you’re hott.

Unfortunately, if I were a lesbian and ended up dating someone that looked like me, I’d be dating Winnie Cooper.

Or maybe Brenda Walsh (shown here with the boyfriend she met on her trip to Paris, The King).

But I’d really much rather date Angelina. Or Natalie. Or Kristen.

So tell me, who would your same-gender-attraction dopplegänger be? And better yet, who would you want it to be?

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Don’t forget to watch the “Tonight Show” tonight!!  The Old 97’s are going to be performing and I can’t wait to watch it.  (Of course I’m old and can’t stay up that late. But be assured I’ll be watching it, thanks to my DVR, the second I wake up tomorrow.)