Our Visit to the Pumpkin Patch

On Sunday afternoon, we took a drive down historic Highland Road in Baton Rouge, which is lined with one beautiful old home after another, all the way onto the LSU campus to the University Methodist Church. The church has a "pumpkin patch" every year. They basically arrange tons of pumpkins in front of their church and in the courtyard. It was quite quaint. Jude loved it. He ran around like a chicken with its head cut off yelling "Look at all these pumpkins!" He has a thing for them.

Check out his swagger . . .





We took several photos which my friend put an artistic touch on. I absolutely love these.







I framed them in this frame. This photo is really crappy but it's hard to take a picture of a framed picture without getting that flash glare. You get the idea.



I also had the urge to decorate for Halloween. Postpartum depression left me such an empty shell and now that I am feeling more and more whole, I am beginning to notice the little details in life again. I'm actually changing up my earrings every now and then. I found these little ceramic pieces at a hospital gift shop (of all places) for half off. The pieces on the ends are tealights that I stumbled upon at Walmart. I think it goes together well. Very simple, I know. I'm just so grateful to feel good enough to do things like this.

The Triumphant Return of Veruca Salt

Back in my "plastic days" where I had a credit card for virtually every store in the mall, including a few "generic" ones (like Visa and Mastercard and Discover, etc. - all of which I possessed) I'd experience what I liked to call the "Veruca Salt" syndrome upon entering a store. I'd be minding my own business, browsing and whatnot, when I would see something - a necklace perhaps . . . and I would touch it, try it on, and proceed to fall madly in love with it. And in the very depths of my mind I would hear that shrieky little British voice:

GOOSES! GEESES! I WANT MY GEESE TO LAY GOLD EGGS FOR EASTER!

See here for reference:



And then I would buy buy buy - Veruca's little tune rambling in my head.

I WANT IT NOW!

This continued on until I was in heaps of debt (which I managed to get out of later on when I was a little more wizened up.) It's funny how these credit card people will set up on college campuses and lure naive little freshman with promises of free t-shirts. At least that's what it was like when I was there in the 90s.

"Would you like to have years and years of crippling debt that will haunt you for life AND get this free tshirt?"

"Excuse me, did you say free tshirt? Sign me up!"

Don't even think I ever wore said t-shirt(s).

But anyhoo - so, yes, I was talking about how Veruca Salt's song from Willy Wonka used to play in my head when I shopped. This stopped after I got out of debt and developed healthier shopping habits. I think that I really used shopping to ease the pain that I had going on in my life during those years. My parent's divorce. My weight gain. My unrequited heartbreaks. My fall from grace. It's not to say that everyone who shops is trying to soothe some sort of heartache - I mean, some people just like shoes, for God's sake. But in my case, it was filling a void. Of course, life went on, I found love, I found God, I found serenity. I didn't really need as much anymore.

And then several weeks ago I was pondering the purchase of an iPhone. (What a glorious thing the iPhone is! Chad got one and I started playing with it and fell in lust.) However, I also wanted black boots. And an argyle sweater for fall. And some sexy pumps. And some new perfume. And lotion. And some cute and trendy jewelry. And some RayBan sunglasses (although I have never NEVER believed in paying a lot for sunglasses) - Wayfarers to be exact. The classic black ones. Oh and I also wanted a Coach purse - a big one.

I was explaining all of this to my coworker and friend Erica - scheming and trying to figure out how to get my precious iPhone in addition to all my other little wants without going completely broke and she suggested that I wait for the iPhone.

"But I want it now!"

And then I paused. Uh oh. Who did that sound like? And then the song began playing in my head all over again.

I WANT THE WORLD! I WANT THE WHOLE WORLD!

It played last week when I cruised DSW shoes. It played yesterday as I shopped the mall snapping up deal after deal. Once the scent of retail hits my nostrils, a signal is sent to my brain and Veruca begins.

I didn't like it. I felt out of control.

And then I went to church this morning. And the sermon was on being financially responsible. And not basing your happiness on material things. And not throwing money around like an idiot. I know it's all very common-sense stuff, but for some reason it hit me in the gut. And I thought about all the things that we should be doing with our money - giving to the church, giving to charity, saving money for emergencies. I was sad and disappointed in myself for letting it get out of hand. And it's not like I spent a whole lot of money. Because most of the things I listed above I didn't buy. But it was that craving that stirred inside of me and wouldn't leave me alone.

I think today's message might have silenced Veruca for the time being. I'll just have to keep working to keep my priorities straight. It's easy to fall into the trap of materialism. But I'm going to try to be content with what I have and use a little more sense when I'm shopping.

Take that, Veruca!

Hey Baby! You Got Hellascrewed!

So - I recently heard about this new Harajuku Lovers perfume line. It somehow has to do with Gwen Stefani and her bizarre little posse of Japanese chicks that follow her around. I really don't get that at all.

Anyhoo - Gwen released this set of perfumes. I think I saw it in an email from Sephora (a store which I am slowly but surely about to become a slave to). So I stopped by Sephora the same afternoon I got my hair cut to sniff them. And there was one I really liked that I thought Chad would like too. I'm really into wearing things that he likes. But - I usually don't buy perfume at the drop of a hat.

Well last night my bro and sis and brother-in-law and stepbrother and sister-in-law went out to dinner and to hang out at this new, very cool outdoor shopping plaza called Perkins Rowe. We had an hour wait for California Pizza Kitchen and so we decided to shop across the street at Urban Outfitters, a store so full of itself it's not even funny. But cool nonetheless. (I'm really just bitter because I'm no longer 24.)

And lo and behold they had the Harajuku Lovers perfume. What a coincidence. So I sniffed some more. And spritzed the one on me that I liked the best - the one I thought Chad would like because of its coconuttiness. The smaller size was only $25.

Hmmm - $25. Not too bad. The box looked like it contained a decent sized bottle.

Behold -
















Hmmm - so I'm imagining that the bottle will probably look something like this (and let me also preface by saying that the tester bottle looked a lot like this - only much bigger):

















Imagine my surprise when I take the plastic wrap off of the box, open it at the table at CPK and pull this out.
















Ummm . . .

Looks like I payed for a plastic doll representation of Gwen Stefani standing on an inch of perfume.

A side view:
















Hey jackass - next time read the fine print that says .33 fl. oz on the very front of the box.

It does smell really, really good though. And Chad loves it.

Sadly it may only last the week.

Damn that Gwen Stefani . . .

Flatness

Okay so here are photos of the hair. Everyone seems to have the same thing to say - "It's cute, but . . ." And then they'll talk about the floppy dog ears part that just hangs there on either side of my head. My hair is pretty thick - so it shouldn't be so flat. So I'm assuming it's the cut. Some said I should cut more layers - but then my cousin told me last night as she examined it that there are actually a ton of layers in there - my hair is just too heavy to show them.

What does that even mean?

Bottom line - I am a narcissistic crazy person who is obssessed with her hair and needs to get a life.

And the truly sad thing is that I totally know what it's like to absolutely have no hair since I had chemotherapy and lost it all. However - if one can find a really cute wig . . .

I am a sick person.

So - picture one. (Yeah, yeah - I know it's fine. I'm an idiot.)



Picture two - I am pointing to the offending area.

Hair Scare, Maybe Baby?

I decided to get my hair cut today. If you've been reading this blog for a good while, you'll know that I like making spontaneous hair appointments. Gives me a bit of a thrill. Actually, I decided to get it cut on Tuesday but she couldn't see me until today and so I went to surrender my locks to the shears this afternoon.

And boy did she cut it.

She cut a LOT of it off.

To tell you the truth cats, it ain't looking so hot. I really don't know if I should be worried or not at this moment. I mean, whenever she fixes it, I always come out looking like I'm wearing a really bad wig - whether she flat-irons or round brushes the hell out of it or whatever. Always distastrous looking. But I just chuckle to myself because I know when I use my own (much, much cheaper, I might add) shampoo and my (also much cheaper) flat iron and my (free) magic, all will be well. And then I noticed that there are some very short pieces towards the crown of my head. Like - three inches short. And I know that this whole thing is supposed to be layered, but I'm just a tad bit concerned that it will give that "muffin top" effect.

Chad was truly pissed when I walked in tonight. I tried to call ahead and warn him. I told him it would look like a bad wig. I just didn't mention the fact that it would be a short, bad wig. Men are so weird when it comes to women's hair. I know - long = sexy or whatever, but there comes a point when you just get tired of fooling with the crap. When you want something different. He told me I would need to buy a wig. A good wig.

That's not a bad idea, actually. Could spice it up a bit (wink).

I also have bangs - which means regular "bangs maintenance." But I learned that I can go to any location of my salon and get them trimmed for free (by free they mean I hand them a $10 tip when all is said and snipped.)

If my hair comes out okay in the morning, I'll post pics. I really hope I can work my "magic" on it.

In other news - still a little worked up over this hysterical pregnancy business. Was so drained yesterday that I could barely push my buggy through Walmart. My legs felt like giant tree trunks lumbering (get it, ha!) along. I thought I would collapse at any moment.

My sister was also thinking she might be pregnant for more normal and obvious reasons such as a missed period. She bought a pack of tests last night at Walmart when we shopped there. We cruised the baby section, looking at clothes, almost crying over a tiny tiger halloween costume. And then there was the whole "what if we are BOTH pregnant?" conversation. I had visions of us taking pictures of our huge bellies touching - huge smiles on our (most likely huge) faces. A joint shower. Cousins that would be almost like siblings. . .

When we got back to her house, I convinced her that we should both take a test - at the same time. And so we did.

And there were two pink lines . . . but this was the kind of test where you had to have a pink line and a pink cross (these tests are so ridiculous). And so we both tested negative. No baby bump bumping photos in our immediate future.

Sigh.

Of course, there is always a chance that it was a false negative for me. I'm technically 8 days away from being "late" and even the early-detection tests say that they tell you within five days. I'm sure it's all in my head (and not in my uterus).

I guess I will cross that bridge when I get to it. Honestly Chad and I are not trying at all - and I'm still on the pill. We haven't really discussed it too much until I started feeling weird a few weeks ago and began having my suspicions. I think I had mentioned one time about going off the pill a few months ago and being immediately asked if I were insane.

So -we shall see what happens. If ol' Aunt Flow doesn't arrive by Tuesday we may have to do another test.

Stormy

Reasons why I am so behind on this blog:

Hurricane Gustav - (the most obvious one) - without power for almost a week -mass destruction all around - only lost our fence though and a few shingles. Chad's parents were here for over a week - which was really nice. Mimi (Chad's mom) was awesome. It was like having a nanny - Mimi Poppins, if you will.

Hurricane Twilight - during the Gustav "down time" I began reading the series and became completely (and I mean completely) obsessed with it. So much so that one day I thought I was literally going insane and had to extra-medicate myself. Luckily, after my second reading of the first book (in less than a month) I think I'm almost over it. Sorta. Maybe.

. . .

. . .

TEAM EDWARD!

(gasping)

Okay - I'm fine. (That was the geekiest moment of my new millenium.)

Now what was I saying?

Hurricane Ginormity - have been packing on the pounds like there is no tomorrow. I guess I can blame Hurricane Gustav on that too since we popped Debbie Cakes like Cheez-its during the storm. Am completely out of control. Must get help immediately. Must have jaws wired shut. Really - I just need to get back on Wellbutrin.

Tropical Storm Hysterical Pregnancy - Sore boobs. Weird cravings. Drained. Feeling weird. I don't know you guys . . . of course, I can't test until October 8th - according to my calculations but I'm on the verge of actually believing it might be true. And some may say I'm jinxing something or whatever, but whatever happens, I'll totally be able to share it here. I hide (too) little, ya know. Have the whole "life is an open book" thing going on.

Hopefully I'll write more decent crap soon. I need to go to bed so my imaginary fetus and I can get some Zzzs.

'Cane, 'Cane, Go Away!

And please don't come again another day.

I'm speaking, of course, of Hurricane (Tropical Storm/Depression/Whatever) Gustav which is currently poised to wreak all sorts of havoc on the gulf coast. At least, that's the vibe everyone's getting given the way our state government is totally preparing (aka panicking). Things are wild at work with preparations. There's nothing like an impending disaster to make public relations interesting.

I've been composing a blog in my head for at least two weeks called "Pooper Trooper" which goes into wondrous (gruesome?) details about Jude's battle with pooping and how he didn't go for five days and he had to go to the doctor and now he's on this fiber treatment program and he's doing great but now he has diarrhea . . .

But - bottom line - he's good. He poops. Life goes on. Blah blah blah.

Hopefully I'll have at least a little time to post any hurricane updates. Please say a prayer that we don't get completely blasted by this.