(Image from passiveaggressivenotes.com)
We Know Better
6 days ago
Monday, April 19, 2010
Are mommy blogs the new chick lit?
I have always been big on guilty pleasures. I just feel that life is hard enough as it is, and everyone should be able to have that one thing that helps them escape for a little while.
When I was in high school, my roommate (oh, boarding school) and I were obsessed with chick lit. The running joke was that if it had been published by Red Dress Ink*, we had it on our bookshelf. I probably should have been studying, but what can I say? I loved those books about new shoes, flashy jobs, messy relationships and trife dialogue (for a perfect synopsis of how every single book went, read this). They were fun and easy, a welcome break from worrying about boyfriends (or complete lack thereof), where I'd go to college, what I'd wear to the dance...etc.
These days, I'm not so into the fluff books. Maybe it's because my life has become to similar to those in the books (Um, twenty something? Check. First jobs? Check. Piles of clothing I can't afford? Check), or maybe I just got tierd of reading the same story over and over again.
But I've found a new guilty pleasure.
Behold, the mommy blogs.
I regularly read about ten of these, about adorable women (mostly from the South) with their adorable children (mostly under three) and what it's like to be a mommy. I really can't get enough. I'm sure these women all have problems and issues all their own, but all I can see are the cute kiddies and great clothes.
Mommy blogs are the new chick lit.
Now, I realize that it might be a little creepy that I am admitting that I read them so regularly, but I've decided to share because these little blogs really do give me a second or two in my day when I can just escape from whatever I'm doing and plug into another life.
And I'm not ashamed to admit it.
*Editor's Note: I had NO idea that Red Dress was a division of Harlequin, arguably "the" name in trashy, grocery store bodice rippers, until I decided to link them. This is why they're called guilty pleasures, people. I feel the shame, even years later.
When I was in high school, my roommate (oh, boarding school) and I were obsessed with chick lit. The running joke was that if it had been published by Red Dress Ink*, we had it on our bookshelf. I probably should have been studying, but what can I say? I loved those books about new shoes, flashy jobs, messy relationships and trife dialogue (for a perfect synopsis of how every single book went, read this). They were fun and easy, a welcome break from worrying about boyfriends (or complete lack thereof), where I'd go to college, what I'd wear to the dance...etc.
These days, I'm not so into the fluff books. Maybe it's because my life has become to similar to those in the books (Um, twenty something? Check. First jobs? Check. Piles of clothing I can't afford? Check), or maybe I just got tierd of reading the same story over and over again.
But I've found a new guilty pleasure.
Behold, the mommy blogs.
I regularly read about ten of these, about adorable women (mostly from the South) with their adorable children (mostly under three) and what it's like to be a mommy. I really can't get enough. I'm sure these women all have problems and issues all their own, but all I can see are the cute kiddies and great clothes.
Mommy blogs are the new chick lit.
Now, I realize that it might be a little creepy that I am admitting that I read them so regularly, but I've decided to share because these little blogs really do give me a second or two in my day when I can just escape from whatever I'm doing and plug into another life.
And I'm not ashamed to admit it.
*Editor's Note: I had NO idea that Red Dress was a division of Harlequin, arguably "the" name in trashy, grocery store bodice rippers, until I decided to link them. This is why they're called guilty pleasures, people. I feel the shame, even years later.
Thursday, April 15, 2010
Release the Puggles of War.
I want to share with you, internets, a little glimpse into a bizarre side project of mine. If we want to call it that.
My Boyfriend (from now on to be referred to as Boyfriend) has an undeniably strange side. As do I.
My dog Henry has a toy Hedgehog. It is the only dog toy I have EVER gotten him that he has not immediately destroyed. Seriously, any toy he has ever had (even the "indestructable!" ones) he has attacked, pulled out all the stuffing, and stredded.
Except for one.
The hedgehog.
As Boyfriend and I were sitting idly on the couch, the following conversation took place:
Me: I think its weird that Henry's had this toy forever and hasn't torn it up yet.
Boyfriend: Huh.
Me: Don't you think? Why do you think that is?
Boyfriend: I bet its because his family was brutally murdered by Hedgehogs. He is using the toy to train for his revenge.
Me: ...
Boyfriend: Yeah! When Henry was a puppy, an army of Hedgehog captured, tortured, and murdered his family. He was the only survivor. Before they killed them, they clipped their toenails. That's probably why Henry hates getting his nails clipped.
After this, he began singing about the Legend of the War Puggle.
This strange aside continued for weeks and weeks. This legend became more and more elaborate. The War Puggles wore expertly crafted armor, complete with chain-mail and spikey helmets. They could be tossed into the ranks of an opposing force by humans and wreak havoc.
I decided that movies should be remade with War Puggles as the lead roles. This lead to a discussion of every War/Action movie I could think of. I then substituted one of the words for "Puggle" or "Pug."
Artist's rendering of what a War Puggle might look like:
Here is the list:
My Boyfriend (from now on to be referred to as Boyfriend) has an undeniably strange side. As do I.
My dog Henry has a toy Hedgehog. It is the only dog toy I have EVER gotten him that he has not immediately destroyed. Seriously, any toy he has ever had (even the "indestructable!" ones) he has attacked, pulled out all the stuffing, and stredded.
Except for one.
The hedgehog.
As Boyfriend and I were sitting idly on the couch, the following conversation took place:
Me: I think its weird that Henry's had this toy forever and hasn't torn it up yet.
Boyfriend: Huh.
Me: Don't you think? Why do you think that is?
Boyfriend: I bet its because his family was brutally murdered by Hedgehogs. He is using the toy to train for his revenge.
Me: ...
Boyfriend: Yeah! When Henry was a puppy, an army of Hedgehog captured, tortured, and murdered his family. He was the only survivor. Before they killed them, they clipped their toenails. That's probably why Henry hates getting his nails clipped.
After this, he began singing about the Legend of the War Puggle.
This strange aside continued for weeks and weeks. This legend became more and more elaborate. The War Puggles wore expertly crafted armor, complete with chain-mail and spikey helmets. They could be tossed into the ranks of an opposing force by humans and wreak havoc.
I decided that movies should be remade with War Puggles as the lead roles. This lead to a discussion of every War/Action movie I could think of. I then substituted one of the words for "Puggle" or "Pug."
Artist's rendering of what a War Puggle might look like:
Here is the list:
- Gettyspug
- All Puggles on the Western Front
- A Farewell to Pugs
- Casapuggle
- Inglorious Puggles
- The Thin Red Pug
- The Hunt for Red Pugtober
- Flags of Our Puggles
- Pug Harbor
- We Were Puggles
- Black Pug Down
- The Hurt Puggle
- Kingdom of Puggle
- Lethal Puggle (1, 2, and 3)
- Top Pug
- First Pug
- Saving Private Puggle
- Puggles in Arms
Wednesday, April 14, 2010
Because I care, YOU care.
Yesterday, I ran two miles OUTSIDE.
I had never done that before.
I am this much closer to being this girl (except less tan, and in shorts a color other than yellow):
(Image from self.com)
That is all.
I had never done that before.
I am this much closer to being this girl (except less tan, and in shorts a color other than yellow):
(Image from self.com)
That is all.
Tuesday, April 13, 2010
Shwag.
Since deciding I was going to transform myself into an athlete (even more impressive, a runner), I've gone about the business of getting the correct tools for the job.
Because everyone knows you can't just run, you need cool accessories to do it with.
The first, and arguably most important, stop was to Marathon Sports in Brookline to get new sneakers. I actually can't say enough good things about this place. First, they were super attentive from the second I walked in, despite the fact that I was wearing a ruffled sundress and ballet flats. Second, they actually took the time to watch me walk barefoot, then in shoes, then running, then running outside. Third, they legitimately didn't seem to care at all when I was discussing the colors of the different shoes and how they might affect my mile time. I got out of there with an awesome pair of Asics that make me feel like I'm not wearing shoes at all.
The second was to Lululemon. I actually can't afford anything in there right now, but I mentally planned my race day outfit.
The third and most current obsession, began with a little trip to Amazon.com and ended with a small, red and white sensor that is currently in my purse in case Abby found it in my room and decided to eat it.
The Nike+.
Southern B told me to get it months ago, but I hesitated (I have a hard time making planned purchases). WHAT.A.MISTAKE.
This baby is AWESOME. It tells me how fast (slow?) I'm going, how long I've run, and allows me to press a button that activates my "power song." It makes me feel like a REAL runner. At the end of the week, I can see how many miles I've gone so I can casually drop that number in conversation.
Is there any downside to this little device?
I think not.
Because everyone knows you can't just run, you need cool accessories to do it with.
The first, and arguably most important, stop was to Marathon Sports in Brookline to get new sneakers. I actually can't say enough good things about this place. First, they were super attentive from the second I walked in, despite the fact that I was wearing a ruffled sundress and ballet flats. Second, they actually took the time to watch me walk barefoot, then in shoes, then running, then running outside. Third, they legitimately didn't seem to care at all when I was discussing the colors of the different shoes and how they might affect my mile time. I got out of there with an awesome pair of Asics that make me feel like I'm not wearing shoes at all.
The second was to Lululemon. I actually can't afford anything in there right now, but I mentally planned my race day outfit.
The third and most current obsession, began with a little trip to Amazon.com and ended with a small, red and white sensor that is currently in my purse in case Abby found it in my room and decided to eat it.
The Nike+.
Southern B told me to get it months ago, but I hesitated (I have a hard time making planned purchases). WHAT.A.MISTAKE.
This baby is AWESOME. It tells me how fast (slow?) I'm going, how long I've run, and allows me to press a button that activates my "power song." It makes me feel like a REAL runner. At the end of the week, I can see how many miles I've gone so I can casually drop that number in conversation.
Is there any downside to this little device?
I think not.
Monday, April 5, 2010
I'm an "athlete!"
"Athlete" in quotation marks, because really, I'm not. But by June 5th, I will be...
Explanation:
I've always wanted to be one of those effortlessly sporty, spandex short wearing, perky ponytail swishing girls. Pangs of jealousy used to gnaw at me every time they jogged by me eating an ice cream cone on the street.
A few months ago, I worked at a gym. Let me tell you, it's hard to avoid the gym when you work. there. The trainers will not give you a break! So I started working out. At first, it was just the elliptical, but as time went on, I started feeling like I wasn't actually doing anything. I decided to conquer the treadmill.
I started very slowly, but I've now gotten to the point where an average jog is somewhere around two miles. Instead of reviling in my success, what do I do? I SIGN UP FOR A ROAD RACE.
That's right my friends. Come June 5th, I'll be running the Harpoon Road Race. It's about five miles, and I'll be doing it with the boyfriend, his friends, and some of the boyfriends' friends' girlfriends who are now MY friends (phew).
Tonight's the night I see whether I can actually even RUN five miles.
Pray for me.
Explanation:
I've always wanted to be one of those effortlessly sporty, spandex short wearing, perky ponytail swishing girls. Pangs of jealousy used to gnaw at me every time they jogged by me eating an ice cream cone on the street.
A few months ago, I worked at a gym. Let me tell you, it's hard to avoid the gym when you work. there. The trainers will not give you a break! So I started working out. At first, it was just the elliptical, but as time went on, I started feeling like I wasn't actually doing anything. I decided to conquer the treadmill.
I started very slowly, but I've now gotten to the point where an average jog is somewhere around two miles. Instead of reviling in my success, what do I do? I SIGN UP FOR A ROAD RACE.
That's right my friends. Come June 5th, I'll be running the Harpoon Road Race. It's about five miles, and I'll be doing it with the boyfriend, his friends, and some of the boyfriends' friends' girlfriends who are now MY friends (phew).
Tonight's the night I see whether I can actually even RUN five miles.
Pray for me.
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