Creative Juices

My Very Own Bag, My Very Own Bag

Over a month ago, I mentioned girlworks. I discovered this site while searching for my perfect bag.
And now, I have, my very own bag.

Meet myveryownbag. Isnt she beautiful?
So, girlworks made this bag for me. It usually doesnt take as long as mine did... but thats because I was picky about the fabric. So, she let me pick out my own fabric and mail it to her. Then, she made my bag, complete with wonderful pockets on the inside for my cell, keys, pen and chapstick (cause we all know those are the things that fall to the very bottom of your purse just when you need them most). This bag is perfect. Exactly what I needed, and also very well made.
I love my bag.
Here's my bag in action.

I love my bag.

Without a Doubt, Singled Out, The Only Way I Know

Yesterday, I got something in the mail.
I've been summoned for Jury Duty.
I still dont know how I feel about that. At first I was excited, it felt like a right of passage. I'm officially an adult, doing all things adultish. And Worth L. Hill, the Sheriff of Durham agrees.
But then I started thinking about actually being a juror. I've seen my fair share of movies... being a juror isnt easy. Are my convictions strong enough to withstand something like that? I really hate the idea of being responsible for someone else's fate.
I have to call the night before to make sure they still need me.
Either way, I guess it's fine. However, I will be away from the computer that day... and they probably wont let me snack as much as I do now. Ah, the sacrificies one has to make to serve their beloved city.

Slowly I Begin to Realize This is Never Gonna End

Well, I think we found ourselves a house. I'm not exactly excited, but I think because it all seems too good to be true. See, there is this complex of townhomes going up right around the corner from where we currently live. I drive by them everyday on the way to work. Finally, on Sunday, we met with them. We sign a contract on Wednesday, and they start building. Here's what it will look like on the outside. A set of four townhomes, ours being the first on the left.

So, it's three stories... here is the floorplan.

The room on the bottom, behind the garage, will be my Creative Memories workshop. How friggin cool is that? It even has it's own little half bathroom. We also upgraded to the phatty fat master bath, garden tub, two sinks, separate shower, and the toilet even has it's own happy room (though Steve says he's a claustraphobic shitter, but he'll just have to get some counseling for that, cause I think it's cool).
After we sign, we get to go to the home store place and pick out cabinets and countertops and carpet and all that.
They wont be finished till early August, they say. But the cool thing is, since we live right around the corner... I can stop by and bring the builders cookies :)
Okay, so maybe I am a little excited.

Why Dont You and I Get Together

Just in case you were wondering how stupid we (as a whole) are... here's the proof.
These are a list of instructions, on various consumer goods.
1) On a hair dryer: Do not use while sleeping.
2) On a bar of soap: Directions: Use like regular soap.
3) On a frozen dinner: Serving suggestion: Defrost.
4) On the bottom of a dessert: Do not turn upside down.
5) On another dessert item: Product will be hot after heating.
6) On an iron: Do not iron clothes on body.
7) On Children's cough medicine: Do not drive a car or operate machinery after taking this medication.
8) On a bottle of sleeping pills: Warning: May cause drowsiness.
9) On most boxes of Christmas lights: For indoor or outdoor use only.
10) On a food processor: Not to be used for the other use.
11) On a can of peanuts: Warning: may contain nuts.
12) On American Airlines packet of nuts: Instructions: Open packet, eat nuts.
13) On a child's Superman costume: Wearing this garment does not enable you to fly.
14) On a chainsaw: Do not attempt to stop chain with your hands or genitals.

Thank you, thank you very much. I'm here all day.

I Believe in a Thing Called Love

So, I know I've mentioned before... I have two friends getting married this summer. One of them, is Emily. I'm just a bridesmaid for her.
The current wedding craziness is this:
One of Emily's other bridesmaids (the only one that lives near Emily, mind you) recently found out she's pregnant. She'll be 7 months by Emily's wedding. She's not married (or getting married any time soon, though she is moving in with the father of the baby soon). But she is a good good friend of Emily's.
Enter Emily's mom. She is... how do I say... nicely... um... old fashioned.
She told Emily that she doesnt want the girl in the wedding.
Hey, that's an interesting concern. See, I would think... the girl is 7 months pregnant, she'll probably have a hard time standing that whole time. And what about fitting a dress for her, geez. And what if she goes into labor while the wedding is happening?!? Yes, definitely enough to stress a bride out.
But that wasnt mom's reasons. Her reason was... and you're gonna love this... she doesnt want the girl in the wedding because she doesnt want to have to answer to people when they ask about the girl, and it would be embarrassing for her to tell them she's not married.
Yes. Because when I see a pregnant bridesmaid... the first thing I think to do is go up to the mother-of-the-bride and ask if the girl is married. You've got to be kidding me.
Enter Sabrina. See, most people know that when you need a logical sound solution to something that is stressing you out, you ask me. Emily is especially aware of this. She knows I'll give it to her straight, no matter how much she's whining about it.
Unfortunately, my logical, sound solution for this one, completely contradicts my feelings.
Logically, I say, Emily should go with what her mom wants. Add a little family manipulation (something I've also mastered) "I really want this girl in the wedding. But your happiness is more important than my own, so I've decided to obey your wishes." Lets not forget who's the bride here, mom. Tis Emily's day, if she wants a whore in her wedding, so be it!
I'm just kidding, the girl's not a whore...
Pretty sure Emily's mom is going to win this battle. Thats just how it goes.
You got any better advice for me to give? Or do you know the verse in the bible that says "Thou shalt not kick a woman out of your bridal party just because she's having a child out of wedlock"?

I Want You to Want Me

Right, tomorrow... or the next day. Whatever.
So, The Birthmonth Project.
You may have noticed, that last month, for my birthday, I was a bit whiney. I wanted romance, I wasnt getting it, and even though Steve did one of things on my list, I still wasnt that happy.
Which obviously means I have an attitude problem.
So, I thought, I just need to show him how it's done. And The Birthmonth Project was born.
For the month of February, I milked my birthday for all it was worth. And since some people werent around to celebrate my birthday on a Sunday... it seemed like I was spending the whole month celebrating, starting with my mom's gift that arrived before Valentine's and ending with a March 2 (February 31, if you will)lunch with The Girls. On one of these days, Steve complained that he only got to celebrate his birthday on the actual day... none of this month long crap.
So, I decided to change that.
And show him how it's done.
So, March 1, I snuck an adorable card with two playful kittens in his lunch. On the inside of the card, I scratched out 'day' and wrote in 'month'. The card made him happy, which made me happy. And so it begins...
On March 2, I had big big plans. About a month ago, I had seen an ad in the paper for John Leguizamo (if you dont know him, please watch Moulin Rouge). Steve has watched his one act on HBO more times than I can count, and he laughs hysterically every time. I knew this would be something he'd enjoy, and I also knew, since it was at Duke, he probably wouldnt know about it. So, I quickly got us tickets, and toyed with the idea of telling him, but then decided, if I could keep it a surprise, I would. I told him he had to be home by 6 at the latest because we were going out that night. But I didnt tell him where. It was a risky scenario, many things could have blown up in my face... but they didnt. It wound up being one of the happiest nights of my life. He was incredibly cute trying to guess where we were going "So, wherever we're going, you need a purse..." When we arrived at Duke... I told him that past this point (the parking deck) I had no control over if he found out or not. So, he could either try and figure it out or he can not. And though he spent the next half hour trying to figure it out, God was on my side and he did not. Until the guy announced John Leguizamo, he had no clue. And that was awesome. And we laughed and laughed and laughed. And he thanked profusely.
But my point is, I was happiest when he was happiest. And it was fun for me. I know it's hard to believe, but most of the time, I can be a bitch of a wife. I'm annoyed, I'm frustrated, I'm fed up... I never think 'wow, he's cute.' I think 'why in the world am I married to this farting, burping, annoying man?'
And that needs to change. Because above all things, I want to be happily married. Not just, married and happy, but happily married.
I am the only one who can fix that.
So The Birthmonth Project continues. An excellent excuse to act as pleasant, sweet and as wonderful as possible. I'll let you know if it's worth it, but already, I'd say it is.

I Drove Myself Insane

Could I blog less? I dont think so.
I have two things I could talk about.. they're on complete opposite sides of the spectrum.
1. The Bird Story
2. The Birthmonth Project

We'll go with story number 1, for today and save number 2 for tomorrow. (Remind me, would you?)

So, I'm driving to work this morning, after light therapy, and I see a bird, alive, with an obviously broken wing in the middle of the road. It was a seagull, and my first thought was 'why is there a seagull in the middle of North Carolina? the ocean is all the way over there.' I avoided hitting the struggling bird, and became very sad because there wasnt anything I could do for him. I thought about pulling over and helping him to the side of the road, but I was in the middle lane on 15-501 and no chance of getting over anytime soon. Then I thought, 'he's a seagull, he'd probably pluck me to death, not realizing I'm trying to help him.' and then I thought of the seagulls in 'Finding Nemo'. And then I was even more sad that I couldnt help the poor poor bird. So, I prayed that someone with gardening gloves and more savvy driving skills than myself would see the bird, before it was hit, and rescue it. Hopefully, they'll have the time to take him to the pet hospital down the road.
And I dont even like birds that much.
But that wasnt my only recent incident with birds... last week, on the way to a church thing, Steve hit a bird. He was driving, and I was looking out and saw a couple of beautiful red birds playing on the side of the road. And I thought 'what cute little birds...' followed by a scream of shock as Steve blew through the bird and we heard a big clunk under the car. I dont think he did it on purpose, he just didnt see the thing. The funny part was when we parked the car in the church parking lot and got out, there was a bird on the telephone wire chirping. Without even looking at it, I said 'that's right little guy, yell at him for running over your brother.' We look up, and there's a red bird. It made us both sad.