the procrastinating girl

Hello Darkness My Old Friend

Hi there.  Remember me?  Yes, it's been an embarrassingly long time between posts.  SInce then we've seen both blinding snowstorms and radiant sunshine.  Gotta love March.  Actually, in my house we do as it's the month of my husband's birthday.  His lot of gifts is usually so fantastic I can't recall a single one from years past as I type.  For number 38, in the worst economy since the Great Depression, I decided to make a statement.  Against much of my better judgment, I bought him the Wii.  Now I realize I am quite late to this party.  But that's fine.  I was never the kid who had something first.  Guess jeans.  Pierced ears.  A full-time job with benefits.  Not that this was about me.  At all.  I was raised on PBS and dominoes.  The closest thing we had to video games was an abacus.  So when we fired up our Wii, I was happy to just sit back and watch.  Yes, that lasted five seconds.  Now all I can do is think about the next time I can sing with Blondie.  I AM a Guitar Hero.  Or is it Heroine?

Spare Pots

Last weekend at Sydney's birthday party, we entertained 13 little girls with arts and crafts.  Unluckily, when you order any supplies, they typically come in packs of 12.  Since then, and for the foreseeable future, the surplus 11 of, you know, everything, has sat in various states of undress in my office.  The main issue is the flower pots the girls decorated.  What am I going to do with them? 

-  They could be very uncomfortable hats for the girls' 7,000 plus stuffed animals.
-  I could have a set playdate activity until 2010.
-  I could enjoy 15 minutes of fame in local paper after giving to Zoe's nursery school.
-  They could provide five-ish minutes of solid 'drop-off-the-roof' fun.
-  I could try to return them (The receipt is... where?  Right.)

Actually, I'm hoping to donate the whole lot to a little girl who needs a birthday party.

Good Timing

Here I am up in lovely Quechee, Vermont.  Next to the bed in "my" room at my parents' house, my mom keeps a couple of back issues of Real Simple Magazine.  Real Simple was like the Hollywood It Girl when it first launched.  Everyone wanted to work there.  I too was initially drawn in by its aesthetic (simple white bowl with granny smith apples!) and mission (eight exciting rice bowl dinners!), but it quickly wore off.  Let's be honest, nothing real and simple was going to be incorporated into my daily life.  It was basically a catalog of my shortcomings.  So one of the cover stories at my Quechee bedside is "What Can You Do in Fifteen Minutes?"  I typically can't take fifteen minutes to get the mail or call the exterminator.  But here's what I can do:

- Update the DVR recorded list so it suits my, and only my, viewing pleasure.
- Buy a bunch of songs on iTunes that betray my age.
- Complete much of the Sunday NYTimes crossword.
- Search every design blog for something like an obscure 1950's modern lighting fixture.
- Write two semi-decent blog posts.

Keeping in mind this is family-friendly programming, what can you do in fifteen minutes?  Click comments below...

I'm It

Contrary to my header, I don't have an unhealthy level of self-esteem.  Apparently, I have been tagged.  My friend Alexis, better known here as my frequent commentator from Knot Sew Crafty (btw, the comment is the blogger's holy grail), has gone against her better judgment and given me a task.  What could that crafty gal be thinking?  Well, this one doesn't involve driving on I-95 to New Rochelle (those damn doorknobs), so I'm doing it right away.  Plus, if it weren't for Alexis, there would be no TPG.  Alright, so I'm supposed to share six unimportant things about myself.  Ready?

1.  I can name all 50 states in alphabetical order.  Thank you Pequenakonck (that's North Salem Elementary School to you non-natives).

2.  I have never lit a match. 

3.  I don't EVER drink carbonated beverages. 

4.  I don't like chocolate. 

5.  I naturally have a big space between my two front teeth.

6.  I was born south of the Mason-Dixon line.

And now, I tag:

GreenBrooklyn
How About Orange
Hal Brooks
Clay Enos