One more little rant

In my Google searches for "Becoming a Stepford Wife", "Learn to love cooking and cleaning", "Housework for Dummies", "Working wife cooking and cleaning tips" and "Donna Reed First Season DVD Cheap", I've reached the end of my rope (see previous post on why). Not even because I'm not finding what I need (other than the Donna Reed DVDs, but I realized I only wanted to watch the show, not learn from it), but because I keep seeing blogs and articles written by women who start off by saying, "I am a loving stay-at-home wife by choice."

This is uncharacteristic of me to say this, but what the hell are they trying to prove? Are they so threatened by their counter-equals, who send their kids to day care and want to earn their own money? Have career women completely moved ahead in time, leaving housewives to think they have to defend their choices at every turn? By choice. Phft!

If I had the choice, I would love to quit my job. I would write that book I always say I will. ... or at least start a new one every week, figuring that one will be better than the one I previously started. I probably wouldn't do anymore housework than I do already, in all honesty.

Sure, if I had kids, I would love to stay home with them. But I know it's not in my nature to do so; I need to be out. I need to have a purpose. I need a job. I need somewhere to go for eight hours a day, outside of the house. If not just for the appreciation I have for my house and my husband when I get home.

So, what I'm saying is, stop this "by choice" thing. I'm not judging you for staying home. That's fine with me, if that's what you want to do. I doubt your husband is telling you to stay home, although you're kicking and screaming to get out. But your "choice" of words is a way of putting a defense against those who aren't fighting with you. I'm not going to put down the fact you're home all day. In fact, I am looking at your articles because I don't have time to the trials and errors in cleaning and cooking you've probably already learned and are, therefore, qualified to be writing about!

That is all.

"Honey, I'm Home!"

I've been on this kick lately of cleaning. Yeah, I've never been an OCD cleaner, but I learned early the easiest way to clean was to pick up after yourself, not letting anything pile up.

Now that we have a home of our own, I forget that there are other things that need to be done that can't be done in the space of 10 minutes after a mess is made. Stuff like Swiffering the floors, mopping, doing a big clean of the bathroom, laundry, loading and unloading the dishwasher, stuff like that.

I'm now on a mission to become this fabulous 1950s wife. Notice, not a "housewife" as I'm very content having a career. But I want to prove I can do both.

I've been trying to find Web sites that might offer ideas to set this goal in motion. Something along the lines of Donna Reed meets Mary Tyler Moore.

This weekend, my husband invited a friend over for coffee. After going shopping a few days before, I was very pleased I was able to "whip up" a tray of tasty treats while she was hear. Cut strawberries, carrot sticks, celery sticks, crackers, Brie (for goodness sakes, Brie!), grapes and hummus. Oh, it was beautiful. I almost wanted to take a picture. OK, OK, I wanted to wrap it in plastic wrap and put it in the freezer to save for when his mother came over to show off.

That same night, I made a cake. Duncan Hines actually made it, but I mixed it and baked it. That counts. I even took it out of the mold and frosted it! That's an accomplishment, considering whenever we have frosting in the house, my husband gets to it with a spoon before I can bake the cake. I hid it this time so he couldn't.

This morning, he invited his sister and brother-in-law and his parents over for Sunday coffee. Once again, I cut some strawberries and filled a bowl with two yogurts mixed for a dip. Before they came over, I said to him, "Oh, I should serve something..." He gave me a look, and said, "Your WASP side is showing." I've learned to tune that out when I know he doesn't mean the passive-aggressive fighting and backhanded compliments I usually get called out for.

I recently re-read "The Undomestic Goddess" by Sophie Kinsella. Maybe that's what got me in the mood. As I was reading, I wished I had some sort of guidance for setting a schedule that was as effective as a housewife's, but with the ability to work.

And I spent that last half-an-hour searching online for some sort of starting point. But, alas, all I could find was schedules for housewives who wake up at 6 a.m. and don't stop until dinner is done and the dishes are cleaned and put away. But, even if I didn't have an almost unhealthy obsession with Google Reader (the modern day equivalent to soap operas, I guess) or a cat who's become quite the little master of our, er, her domain and is too adorable not to have at least an hour of kitty playtime and affection or terrible reality TV to watch, I still don't think I could pull it off. Well, I'll correct that; I want to be able to pull it all off, making it look absolutely effortless at the same time.

This will be my new project. If only there were something to help me get started...

Plus, I'm out of books to read and I'm itching for another Amazon shopping spree (by "shopping spree", I mean spend $25 so I can get the free shipping).

Sweet Deals

My online shopping habit has skyrocketed in the past few weeks. Once I signed up for eBay and decided to search for my new love, Bare Escentuals, I was hooked on getting my makeup at a cheaper price (and also hooked on the "thrill" of the auction-action).

This link, fatfingers.com, is a fantastic tool for finding misspellings on eBay items, which, therefore, are sometimes lost on the site and can be bought at a cheaper price.

I'm almost hesitant about giving this link away...but just know if you outbid me on a Bare Escentuals kit I want, well, there's nothing I can really do. (Damn anonymous bidding lists!)

Ahahahahaha!

My husband and I got completely addicted to "American Idol" this season. We don't want to admit it, but we've been slowly turning into reality show freaks. When Tatiana Del Toro was introduced, I knew I wanted to keep watching her. Honestly, I wanted to see Simon critique her until she cracked into normalcy, but I wanted to watch the process.

I soon realized I actually liked watching her. I soon wanted to see Simon critique her and cut her down, but I didn't want her to change at all. Not to mention, she had a good voice. GOOD voice! Just because she was annoying, I don't think people give her voice enough credit. Even saying "her voice isn't actually terrible" is an understatement. It's powerful as hell. As a very proud Alto, I can completely respect that. My husband, on the other hand, was happy to see her leave, although he was on board with me about her voice.

But, when I found this the other day, I was so excited. This is completely perfect for her.

Last Night's Project

For the past three weekends, now, I've pulled all-nighters.

Two weeks ago, I came home from a roadtrip to the casino to write a play. I got a good chunk of it written, then I had the people I wrote it for come over to read it. Now I'm being told I need to add a second act, change things around, and add more to it. Needless to say, I haven't worked on it since.

Last week, I found myself in bed reading a home decorating book lent to me, then after two hours of brainstorming ideas to use in my house, I got up and began moving furniture around, killing time until Lowe's and IKEA opened so I could finish my masterpiece of a living room.

From these all-nighters, I developed a cold--or, at least they contributed to getting the cold. Friday night, I was worn out from working and being sink, so I took some NyQuil and went to bed. "Finally," I thought. "The all-nighters are over." Spoke/thought too soon.

Yesterday, I was in the car with one of our friends and stopped at a light. A pre-teen girl walked along the sidewalk with her two younger siblings. And, as my friend called it, as soon as my light turned green, they walked across the street in front of me.

Now, when I was growing up, traffic safety was ingrained in my head. So much so that I am petrified of crossing the street, actually. I not only look both ways, I look up (for falling pianos and anvils), I look down (for open man holes), I look everywhere. This girl did no such thing. So, of course, my friend and I made fun of her.

Somehow, the phrase came out of my mouth, "Get your Valley Bangs now, bitch!" And my friend laughed the rest of the way home. I tried to explain Valley Bangs to him because he never heard the term. (Well, of course not, because I made it up years ago.)

Valley Bangs - (pl. n.) Little wisps of hair cut in the front of one's face. Usually seen curled under. Still embodied in areas of the country that have not left 1987, 1991 or 1994 just yet.

I call them Valley Bangs because it seems whenever I drive through the part of the state we refer to as "the valley", I spot them. I went to a wedding a few years back in that area and they were extra crispy with DEP gel and LA Looks hairspray, no joke!

So, after I got home, I went on a Google Image search, just for a picture or two to show my friend who found the term so hilarious. Pretty soon, though, I had a folder filled with pictures of women (some of them famous, even!) with the horrid look. After collecting 20 or so, I decided to put them into a blog.

For the rest of the night, I kept myself occupied by searching for Valley Bangs and posting them. The blog now has more than 50 pictures of the catastrophes. I even submitted Valley Bangs to urban dictionary to get the term out. What fun is having a word/term if no one knows what it is? Also, the shameless promotion doesn't hurt either.

Valley Bangs

The Reason For Fewer Posts

I'm so afraid I'm turning into a cat person. That fear has finally subsided; I HAVE turned into a complete cat person. Borderline cat freak. She has a Catbook page, the only pictures on the walls in our living room are mostly of the cat, she is who my husband and I want to see first when we come home. We let her get away with almost everything. We can't stay mad at her for long.

So, I was more afraid my posts would turn into "look what the cat is doing now!", instead of the usual funny stuff. I swear, more will be coming.

How I Get Ready Every Morning

...or, at least how I will get ready from now on.