It’s no secret, I’m in love with handbags. I am a self-professed handbag ho. I admit it. I’m proud of it. It’s either this…or cake – and handbags don’t make my pants tighter.
I’ve been obsessing about Dooney & Bourke’s Hydrangea line ever since I saw it – but, like many families today, we’re on a pretty tight budget and I just can’t go running around buying up designer handbags whenever I want. Sure, I could’ve married a rich guy with abs of steel…but I didn’t. And I love my squishy, handsome, unshaven blue-eyed plumber’s crack show’in hubby.
I’m not gonna lie thought: if we won the lottery tomorrow, I could blow some serious money on designer handbags. (Nothing crazy like the $50,000 Birken or however you spell it. WTF is up with that!) Until I win the lottery or become a best selling author, I scrimp and save, empty the change thing in my car, and look under the couch cushions for every penny I can find if I want something pretty like this. Well, my friends, after much scrimping and saving, today is the day that Dooney & Bourke rocked my world. Again.
Here are the pics from my big day at the mall…
I had the Hydrangea satchel on hold…but when I got the store and the I’m-not-happy-with-chicks-who-get-too-excited sales lady brought it out, I noticed the sides were more floppy than I thought they’d be. Meanwhile, as if Jesus himself put it there for me to see, another Hydrangea bag sat perfectly upright on the shelf behind her…calling to me. At the last minute, I changed from the satchel to the Janine satchel. It has a boxy bottom – which is only a good thing if you’re a handbag – and then it’s effing awesome.
Right after this photo was taken, I turned to my girlfriend and said “Seriously, I could throw this bag down and hump it all across the floor if I didn’t think I’d wreck it…or get arrested.”
I hung out at the mall for a while on my own, not wanting to just sit on the Dallas North Tollway in traffic. I ended up being kidnapped by the girl at the Trish McEvoy make-up counter and she re-did my make-up. She was awesome. I heard all about her 24 acres and her pet donkey named Peanut. Not even making that up. She put mascara on me that actually made me look like I had eyelashes. I really enjoyed it.
I knew I’d have hell to pay when I got home because I’m never home late and the giant doggies would be fit to be tied, so I made sure to roll through Sonic on the way home to pick up a Hot Mess tradition: “Payday Hangabers”. Payday hamburgers. The dogs have never been able to pronounce “hamburger” correctly, but we give them a break because English is their second language.
After lulling them into a coma with a bag of meaty goodness, I sat down with my prize.
And here it is…my Dooney & Bourke Hydrangea Janine Satchel. I don’t think I’ll get anything done this weekend…I’m just gonna stare at it.
And now I’m just sitting here with the doggies…high as a kite from my orgasmic handbag score. Like I said: it’s either cake or handbags…and Dooney & Bourke doesn’t make me cry in the changing room.
Now if the Seven Dwarfs of the Menstrual Apocalypse would just get the hell out of town…I’d actually like to get back to the gym!
Happy Friday to y’all!!!
No, I haven’t lost my mind. It’s Thursday – which means it’s time for Mama Kat’s awesome blog meme!!! Those of you who follow me on Facebook got to vote on which topic I would write about…and this is what you decided to do to me.
I don’t normally write things like this. I don’t even take compliments well…but here it goes. I’ll take the first few from those of you who posted on Facebook today.
1. I’ve got a small army of rescued fur persons in my house. I’m an awesome fur person mommy. Here are just a few of my babies:
2. I bake for my co-workers…probably too much, but it helps my inner fat girl to make delicious and horribly unhealthy things. Obviously, I can’t eat them all – so I feed them to my co-workers, who think I’m awesome. (But actually, I’m not so awesome for feeding them horribly unhealthy things…but screw it!)
3. I am an awesome needleworker. I cross-stitch and I’m just getting back to embroidery. It’s therapeutic because it makes me focus…and because I can’t eat when my hands are busy.
4. I’m an eff’in cool auntie. My adult nieces and nephews have wonderful memories of me clowning around with them, having sleepovers, etc. The ones who are still growing up are lucky that their Aunt Di has still not grown up. I can blow any other adult out of the water with my ability to discuss which house at Hogwarts I would want to be sorted into…or cause a giggle fit while trying to convince them that my real name is Bumblefart but I made my mother change it when I started high school.
5. My eyes are awesome. I’ve always been complimented on my eyes. You can’t tell so much right now, but they’re big…and when I was younger they were deep brown. As I’ve gotten older, they’ve actually gone half green. Now the outer ring of my iris is brown and the inner ring is green – which I love because my father’s eyes were green. So now it’s like I have my parents with me all the time…every time I look in the mirror.
6. I’m funny. Sometimes I’m not half as funny as I think, but I am funny. I have my moments.
7. I put it all out there on this blog, don’t I? I’m awesome at it. I hope to show people that healthy normal weight loss is not a reality show on tv or swallowing miracle pills. It’s possible, but ya gotta work it!
8. I donated my hair to Locks of Love last week so that chronically ill children can have hair pieces. That made me feel awesome.
9. In my head, I carry a plethora of useless movie & tv trivia. My friends know this. I’m always the one they come running to me for the name of the actor who play Rocky’s trainer or to explain the ending from LOST.
10. I am the direct descendant of soldiers who fought in the Revolutionary War – which means that I am a member of The Daughters of the American Revolution. Awesome.
11. I have not yet murdered the Bag Boy from Hell. That’s saying something.
12. I have finally (with much guidance from Hot Mess Hubby) broken through and gotten back in touch with my creative side. In addition to writing my blog, I’m now writing fiction for the first time in 20 years!
13. I won’t let you talk shit about yourself. I won’t let you get discouraged. You come here to read and it’s like we’re all girlfriends, chatting over a cup o’ joe about our problems with weight loss. I don’t ever let you forget you’re special and you’re worthy. You are a little badass.
14. I had to get this one from the hubby: my personality is awesome. I’m bubbly, positive, and uplifting to be around. (He’s so cute, isn’t he?)
15. I also had to get this one from the hubby: My drive to never quit. I won’t ever quit again. I may slow down a little here and there, but I will never quit. Gotta love him for pointing that out to me. (I’m sure he also means I never quit nagging, but everyone knows pots go on the bottom rack of the dishwasher, damn it!!!)
And there you have it, my friends: 15 reasons why I’m awesome.
Now please comment below and tell me at least one of the reasons why you’re awesome!!! You can give me all 15 if you want to, or just a few…or one.
Brag to me…you deserve it.
It’s my Big Writing Weekend, so I shouldn’t be blogging right now. In fact, I feel like I’m cheating on Hot Mess Hubby by doing this…because the Big Writing Weekend was his idea and my blog wasn’t what he was talking about.
I was born a writer. As early as I can remember, my teachers were calling my Mom to say “This kid’s a writer…please encourage it.” In fact, writing is what I turned to as a young woman when I finally quit dance and left The King.
There were no blogs back then. I wrote fiction. It gave me the freedom to explore what life would be like as someone else. I created characters who were all the wonderful things I thought I was not. Sometimes I created characters who were fictional representations of people I didn’t like…and I brought vengeance upon them. It’s wonderful therapy. And it’s cheap. And I can’t go to jail for throwing someone in front of an imaginary train.
Hot Mess Hubby is my biggest fan. Back before there was a blog, back before we were even dating…back when we were just pals…he would ask to read anything I wrote. He even enjoyed handing me weird writing challenges on the spot. I rose to every challenge, of course – including the time he challenged me to write a poem about his “turd bobb’in dog”. I wish I was making that up, but it’s true.
In fact, I made the mistake of telling Hot Mess Hubby about one particular Thanksgiving weekend when I was on my way home from the store and I was struck with an idea for a story. I went home and started writing…and four days later, I had 55,000 words. He’s never forgotten that story – and that’s lead to this “Big Writing Weekend” of mine.
I took Friday off of work and I’m off Monday for Memorial Day. The goal was to lock myself in our guest room and just start banging on the keys until creativity started to come out. The problem is that it’s been awhile since I’d tapped into my creativity in any meaningful way and I’m sort of…constipated.
Writing my blog is very different from writing fiction. This blog isn’t creative writing. To me, this blog is like we’re all pals in a coffee shop and I’m chatting away. Fiction is much harder – especially after so many years away from it. My gears are rusty. As I write this, I’ve only written 1,000 words since Friday morning. I knew I’d be slow and clunky at first, but that’s just sad!
I’m sure it’ll get better. Eventually.
In other news, my gym experience is going well. I’m going to write a whole post about it, but I’m proud to say that I made the right decision in choosing which gym to join and how to go about it. It probably sounds incredibly wimpy, but I’m up to 10 – 14 minutes on the elliptical trainer right now. My strategy isn’t focused so much on increasing my time as it is going every day. Every single day. I’m building a habit.
Also, I went in for a haircut this week and ended up donating my hair to Locks of Love. It’s much shorter than I planned, but I asked the stylist to show me how much she would have to take…and I decided that it was more important to sacrifice a little vanity and let my hair go to good use. It seemed a bigger crime to let my long hair go in the trash can when it could help make hair pieces for chronically ill children. So I let her hack it all off. I guess that’s one way to lose 10 inches, right?
Finally, I’m being terrorized…by the state bird of Texas. A family of Mockingbirds has nested somewhere in my yard or my neighbor’s yard – and the babies are learning to fly. I love animals and I enjoy watching birds, so this is technically a minor inconvenience – but I’m convinced that all my neighbors think I’m crazy because I’m forced to run from the front door to the car and vice versa.
Mommy and Daddy Mockingbird are quite protective of their babies…one of which waddled across my front lawn yesterday. Adorable…but the parents are dive-bombing me and everyone who walks close to our home or my neighbor’s home. When they’re not trying to kick my ass, I’m quite entertained by the show they put on as I watch safely from the living room windows. Don’t mess with Texas…and that includes our state bird.
I’ll be back soon with a full progress report from the gym. For now, it’s back to whatever this fiction thing is that I’m writing. I don’t know if it’s a short story or a book…right now I just need to unclog the pipes. Wish me luck!
When it comes to Pinterest, this is one Hot Mess pinner with seasoned experience – so I’m going to totally overshare, as is the grand tradition here at Hot Mess Princess. First, though, I have to pay a little homage to the pin I created that went quasi-viral…and that was the pin for my Motivation Marbles. Losing your marbles has never been this awesome.
Now, as for what I’ve pinned from others and actually tried? Here are the goodies I’ve found on Pinterest that have made the biggest impression on me:
Pinbusting’s shower scrubby thing - I have one in each shower and they work great. I highly recommend it, but if you’re married to a cave man like me you’ll need to constantly check to make sure he hasn’t knocked it down and left it to drain all over the shower floor. I love Hot Mess Hubby, but sometimes he makes me pro-nuclear.
Once Upon a Pedestal’s polka-dot cake - Yes, I made it. I bought the pans. I had to rewrite the directions in order because her blog post kind of skipped around a little and I’m super anal…and I decided to make a chocolate cake with mint flavored green polka dots. The results? Yummy!
Ramblings from the Sunshine State’s garlic butter bites – Okay, let me see how to put this eloquently….
Foodgasm! Seriously. Hands pounding on the table, moaning like a high-paid hooker…it’ll be like the deli scene from “When Harry Met Sally” if you make these.
I make them when my girlfriends come over. Multiple foodgasms! I don’t even need to say anymore. They’re easy to make and your house will smell gorgeous. They’re not healthy, though, so wear your stretchy pants…and workout the next day.
Smitten Kitchen’s crispy potato roast – Fail! Smells like potato heaven when it’s cooking, tastes like potato ass when it’s done. And yes, I followed the directions! I was sorely disappointed by this one. I’m amazed I wasn’t arrested for crimes against potatoes by the food police.
Dreadful Girl’s INdiscreet tampon cozies – I love my tampon cozy so much that I went back to her Etsy shop and bought one of her tissue cozies. Cramps still suck, but at least I get a giggle when I have to reach for a tampon…or have a booger.
And those, my friends, are the pins I chose to share with you today. Do you have pins to share? Comment here and tell me all about ‘em.
I’m back. I’ve survived another visit to the creepy podiatrist…and I am cast-free. Thank you!
Dr. Creepy has decided that I don’t have to wear the soft cast on my foot for the final week of my healing process – as long as I promise not to walk on it a lot. Or tap dance. I agree. I never want to wear that clicky, wobbly, Velcro monstrosity again.
So congratulations, me, on making it through my sixth stress fracture. Surely there’s some kind of badge or medal for this.
Now that I’m cast-free, I’m walk’in on the wild side. For the past several weeks, I’ve been deep in thought over whether I should join a gym. I hate gyms, really. Remember my last gym experience? Yeah, it’s not for me – but neither are stress fractures. I need to get my hands on (err, feet actually) a very low…or almost no…impact means of working out. That means one of three options: recumbent bike, swimming pool, or elliptical trainer.
The few remaining shreds of dignity that I have left require me to shun the recumbent bike. SHUN IT!! If you’ve ever been or are currently obese or (my favorite) morbidly obese, you probably already know what I’m talking about. For those of you who aren’t, I’ll be happy to explain.
Picture this: you lumber your obese body into the gym and sit down on the recumbent bike. You put your feet on the pedals in front of you and start to pedal. What happens? Your legs are pumping at the pedals – which is a very good thing – but the tops of your thighs are also bumping up against all that glorious fat on your mid-section. Oh, yes, it’s awesome – especially for girls with big boobs like me – because every pump of my legs sends my gut jiggling up, causing my boobs to ricochet off my gut and clock me under the chin. Cha-POW!!! So glamorous at the gym. And they wonder why more fat people don’t go.
I can’t do it. I just can’t do it. The recumbent bike is a self-esteem suck fest. You should have seen the look on my face when Hot Mess Hubby wanted to buy me a regular non-stationary recumbent bike so that we could ride bikes together on the path behind our house. He doesn’t understand the world of a fat person, certainly. I got all squeaky and Dr. Seuss on him.
I will not ride it at the gym, I will not ride it drinking gin, I will not ride it on the path, and shut up now or feel my wrath!
I’m actually serious. I’ve never had gin. And, obviously, I’m not a very good poet.
So the recumbent belly-boob-bounce house is out.
What’s next…swimming pool? Are you on drugs? No. Just no. Even if they let me wear shorts and a t-shirt in the pool. No. Even if I could wear a turtleneck and jeans in the pool. No.
That leaves the elliptical machine. And, since Hot Mess Hubby & I are on a Hot Mess Budget, that means the gym. There’s no way around it…we simply can’t afford to buy an expensive piece of gym equipment for the house.
The elliptical trainer and I have a bittersweet history. If you’ve ever been on one, you probably know what I mean. They kick me right in the booty. The first time I ever tried one, I was regularly walking 45 minutes a day at a pretty good clip and considered myself quite the badass for it. Got on the elliptical…lasted 9 minutes, after which I was huffing and puffing like, well…a fat girl.
Granted, the elliptical trainer makes you work much harder than regular walking. That’s a plus. I just wish it didn’t have to humble me in the process. But when it comes to low impact, this is the most logical choice for me. Makes me work harder, isn’t as hard on my feet. Win-win.
I finally decided on Lady of America fitness clubs. It’s the best decision for me. It’s on the way home from work. In fact, it’s on the street I drive down to get to my house…so I have no excuse not to go. If I go home first, I’ll be too distracted by all of life’s other crap. I have a plan that works for me: I change clothes at work so I’m ready to go to the gym. I drive home. I pull into the gym parking lot and go work out. Then I go home and take care of everything else.
The only thing that would make this more perfect is if I was a naturally fit person who didn’t need to workout…but apparently God thought this would be much more fun. :-)
So how am I doing? How long can I last on the elliptical? I’ll tell you very soon. For now, tell me how you solve your fitness problems. What challenges do you face and how do you overcome them?
When you share you help yourself, but you’re also helping others who will read your comments and identify with your struggles. So give it your best shot. I’m listening!
The absolute best body scrub ever…I use it in the shower after the gym. Just smelling the stuff makes me relaxed and less angry that I have to work off all this weight.