October 24, 2006

now with more profanity! also more exclamation points!!!

Last year, I decided that a really FUN thing to do would be to write a novel in thirty days. And no, I’ve never really wanted to write a novel (although I WAS voted Most Likely To Write the Great American Novel in my senior year of high school, which is more a testimony to how few people in my senior class actually showed up for class meetings than evidence of any deep desire to be a Writer). To this day I have NO IDEA why speed-writing a novel seemed like a good idea, although I’m willing to blame the martinis. Or the children.

Of course, I was like seventy two hours into the Novel That Wasn’t when Henry ALMOST got himself expelled from preschool, which turned out to be a real time-suck. I wrote 1800 words and then stopped and spent my days alternately hiding in the bathroom crying and driving from one doctors appointment to the other.

The end.

Sort of.

THIS year, no way in hell was I going to even pretend to write a novel (although YAY to everyone who is! you go! write something really great! or at least finish!). Instead, I’m going to accept M. Kennedy’s challenge to post every single day in November, because who can resist this:

“No matter what you post - pictures, poems, observations, critiques, or bald-faced lies — the hope is that the act of putting something of yourself out for the world to see every single day will make writing become a more fluid, natural, and integral part of your day. . . . A personal blog is a mirror, and just for one month you’ll be able to capture an image of yourself every day while creating a time capsule of the good, the bad, and that time you pissed off your mom by posting on Thanksgiving.”

Of course, since I commited to this, I’ve had a ginormous case of Writer’s Block, and have found myself thinking things like WHY COULDN’T HENRY HAVE LOCKED US OUT OF THE HOUSE IN NOVEMBER? IT JUST HAD TO BE THIS WEEKEND, DIDN’T IT? HE COULDN’T WAIT, SAY, TWO WEEKS TO DO THAT? NOOOO. OF COURSE NOT.

Already I am irrational. November should be fun.

So the upshot is that I have no idea what will be posted here in the next week (see above: GINORMOUS WRITER’S BLOCK), but after that, get ready, people. Because for the next month, I will post every goddamned day. Saturday! AND Sundays! And I will deploy much profanity and haphazardly overuse punctuation! Especially the exclamation point! Particuarly on the weekends!

I give you fair warning: at some point, I will be reduced to cataloging the contents of my pantry or drafting grocery lists. Probably at many points, actually. Also, there will be pictures of my shoes. LOTS of pictures of my shoes. In fact, I may need to buy MORE shoes, just to fill the space between the first and the thirtieth day of November.

October 22, 2006

superheroes don’t need no stinkin’ house keys

Where to start, where to start . . .

Henry locked us out of the house this morning. At 7:45 am. We were on the way to take Wade to the airport, and somehow Henry locked the knob on the garage door and VOILA we were locked out!

Me: Did you get your phone?

Wade: I think I have everything, but I’ll go back in and check one more time.

Henry (standing behind Wade’s running car): Charlie! Look at the exhaust!

Me: Henry! Get in the car!

Wade: Do you have your house keys?

Me: No. Charlie! GET IN THE CAR! Why?

Wade: Because the door is locked.

Me: God DAMN it. HENRY! GET IN THE CAR ALREADY! Dammit.

Wade (laughing): It’s fine. Let’s go.

So the whole way to the airport I’m freaking out because OH MY GOD what if we can’t get back in the HOUSE? And because I know you’re wondering, yes, I usually carry my house keys, and no, they’re not on the ring with my car keys, and yes, I used to have a spare set in a Secret Hiding Place, and no, they’re not there any more because I dug them up and used them one day when my garage door opener wouldn’t work and then I, uh, put them someplace safe. And my everyday house keys were on the night stand in the bedroom, right where I left them when I went to Kansas City.

INSIDE THE LOCKED HOUSE.

Rest assured, I’ve put them back in my bag.

All the way to the airport, while I’m trying not to hyperventillate because Wade is leaving town and the kids are in their pajamas and we are LOCKED OUT OF THE DAMN HOUSE, Henry is coming up with various scenarios to explain How the Door Got Locked. None of them involve him playing with the door knob while Wade was loading the luggage in the car and I was helping Charlie find his shoes, which is funny because THAT’S WHAT HAPPENED, but whatever. I’ve got my head between my knees and I’m trying to think about how precisely I will get back in the damn house and why on earth I left my coffee on the kitchen table instead of bringing it out with me and what will happen if Wade has forgotten his cell phone because if he has then someone will CERTAINLY break a bone in the next three days. Meanwhile, Wade is listening to Henry’s stories and very calmly and patiently saying, “No, buddy, I don’t think that’s what happened,” to every theory (aliens! locked the door! the Legion of Doom! locked the door!). Until Henry makes the mistake of saying, “Daddy, I think YOU locked the door.”

Wade: NO, I DIDN’T, and we are ALL DONE TALKING ABOUT IT.

Henry: But . . .

Wade: No. We’re done talking.

Fortunately for everyone, Wade’s parents not only have spare keys to our house but they have a PLACE for everyone’s spare keys, so when we walked into their kitchen totally unnannounced at 8:30 this morning, my mother-in-law was able to put her hands right on the keys, despite the fact that she had clearly just woken up and hadn’t even had her tea yet. Thank god.

Wade called this afternoon, to be sure that we weren’t camped out at Starbucks in our pajamas, and to tell me that on his walk from the hotel where he’s staying to the hotel where the conference is being held, he passed a Nordstrom, a Saks Fifth Avenue, and a Marshall Fields.

Me: Shut UP!

Henry: Don’t say SHUT UP to Daddy!

Wade: I knew you would like that.

Me: The next place we move needs to have a Nordstrom.

Wade: I’ll see what I can do.

Yes please. And soon.

October 20, 2006

Style Friday

Because I have a lot of time on my hands these days, I Googled “Fashion Friday” and lo and behold, I’m not as original as I thought. Style Friday, on the other hand, only turned up a newspaper in Glasgow, Scotland, and an on-line betting site, so Style Friday it is. Hooray!

Welcome to Style Friday. Let’s talk about your bag.

I love handbags. I do not believe that a woman can own too many handbags. I am, however, surprised by how many women are carrying the wrong handbag–wrong size, wrong season, wrong material. Your bag is more than just a home for your cell phone; it’s an integral part of your wardrobe. The wrong bag can completely undermine an outfit. It’s time to ditch the wrong bag and find one that really works for you.

Think first about size, both the size of the bag and YOUR size. A good rule of thumb is this: bigger women can carry bigger bags, and vice versa. If you are petite, a very large tote can easily overwhelm you; by the same token, a teeny tiny bag can make a larger woman look even larger. If you are on the small side, stick with smaller bags; if you need a tote, chose one that is long rather than wide. If you are larger, particularly if you are big-chested, avoid little bags that tuck under your armpit; for evening, go with a beautiful hand-held bag, and for daytime chose something with a little substance.

Next, think about function. What will you be doing while you are toting this particular bag? What will you be putting inside it? For example, if you are spending most of your day with a potty training child, you probably need a bag big enough to carry a change (or two) of clothes. If you are child-free during the day, you can opt for something smaller. If you are the type of person who really CAN leave the house during the day with just a cell phone and a lipstick, go with a small bag all the time. I fall somewhere in the middle; I only rarely carry anything child-related any more, but I need my Filofax and my wallet and three pocket packs of Kleenex and a whole makeup bag of I don’t know what all.

I am partial to a medium sized tote or hobo for everyday, because I always seem to have a lot of stuff in my bag. I also prefer something with an open top, so that I can easily find my cell phone and car keys, but if you are travelling, you might want something that closes, to keep your things from falling out in the security checks. Finally, I like a bag that I can sling over my shoulder, leaving my hands free for coffee and tethering my children in parking lots.

For evening, I am all about the embellished clutch or very small shoulder bag. I really like the idea of a bag you can hold in your hand–think how stylish and sexy Carrie Bradshaw’s clutches were–but if you prefer to keep both hands free–say, to hold a drink and shake hands with Important People–look for a bag with a SHORT shoulder strap, something that tucks up in your armpit. Do not–DO NOT–chose an evening bag with a waist-length strap. Also, steer clear of bags with “rope” handles (you know what I mean); they look cheap. Instead, look for a bag with a chain strap, or a strap that matches the material of the bag itself. I have a small beaded bucket bag with a short beaded strap. Lovely.

When you shop for a bag, think about what you will be wearing when you carry it. If you are shopping for a winter bag, put a big coat on and THEN pick the bag up. A hobo that fits snugly over your t-shirt-clad shoulder may NOT go over the shoulder of your winter coat. When you are looking at tote bags, test the weight; put your existing bag inside the new bag and walk around the store. This will give you a sense of how the bag will look and feel when it’s fully loaded. Carry a clutch in your hand as you browse. Are you comfortable with it, or do you find yourself constantly tucking it up in your armpit?

Regardless of what you are carrying, don’t overload your bag; it’s bad for the bag and it’s not pretty. If you find that you are jamming a million things into your teeny bag, either get rid of some of the things or get a bigger bag.

Some of you, I know, are mommies of smaller kids, those who still need diapers and wipes and extra clothes and sippy cups and . . . . You should be extra cautious about overloading your bag. I see moms everywhere who are either carrying a diaper bag that is bursting at the seams or toting TWO separate bags, one for the baby and one for the mommy. This is just silly; for starters, you don’t have to take EVERYTHING with you every time you leave the house. When Henry was a baby, I carried my own Tylenol, everywhere, JUST IN CASE, and I never once needed it. However, it did leak all over the diaper bag on more than one occasion. Think carefully about what you really REALLY need; you can always keep spare diapers and another change of clothes in your car or tucked in the stroller basket (if you’re a walker and not a driver). Keep the stuff in the diaper bag to a minimum, just like you would with any other bag.

Then there is the whole dilemma of the diaper bag itself. You aren’t required to carry a bag that looks like a diaper bag; there are some really great bags out there, many of which don’t look at all like baby gear. Look for a bag that resembles something you would carry if you DIDN’T have a baby; Target has a nice selection of diaper bags, many of which look like cool totes (in other words, they are not embroidered with bunnies. Avoid the bunnies). Or skip the waterproof diaper bag all together and choose a tote that accomodates everything you need. I found that I never used most of the stuff that makes a diaper bag a Diaper Bag–the Attached Waterproof Pouch, for example, wasn’t big enough for Henry’s dirty clothes. I carried ziplock bags and stashed icky things in them. Whatever you do, though, don’t carry more than one bag; if you want to keep your things separate from the baby’s, store them in a small clutch that you can pull out on its own.

Finally, this: I don’t think that you need to spend a fortune on a handbag; in fact, I tend to steer clear of very high-end bags, because INEVITABLY those damn antibacterial hand wipes will leak all over the lining, and that stuff does NOT come out. HOWEVER, I do think that very VERY low end bags–those made of Clearly Not Natural Materials–should be avoided at all costs. Fake leather is a big NO, girls. Fake ANYTHING, actually. Shop end-of-season sales and look for classic styles; I’ve bought a couple of bags at the Gap recently for about a third of their original price; two were leather and one was a lovely suede. Don’t be afraid to buy a nicer bag, don’t be afraid to take proper care of it, and don’t be afraid to retire it when it gets sad looking. Just be sure it’s the right bag for your life and your style.

Just for fun, send Sheryl a picture of the contents of your bag for the In The Bag gallery. Be sure to let me know so that I can go gawk at your stuff! Because that’s the best part.

October 19, 2006

readin’ and groovin’

My kids love to hear stories about themselves. We talk about when they were babies, about how tiny Henry was when he was born and how we could see Charlie sucking his thumb on the ultrasounds. We talk about their first steps and first words; Henry particularly likes the story of how Charlie, at 18 months, would announce, “CLOTHES ARE DRY!” every time he heard a buzzing noise. Personally, I liked when he called out “DINNER’S READY!” each time the microwave dinged.

A few years ago, my parents gave the boys some Personalized Storybooks for Christmas. Henry’s was a Disney’s Winnie the Pooh book that included him in Pooh’s adventures; Charlie’s was about traveling back to the time of dinosaurs, and included the memorable line, “I am Charlie, from the future.” The boys liked these books, because their names were in them, but Charlie wanted to know why his picture wasn’t in the book, and eventually Henry caught on that his story was just a bastardized version of A. A. Milne’s stories. And I thought that was the end of personalized books.

But a week or so ago, we received Charlie’s personalized copy of The Robots of Sedna, and the boys love it. When I ordered the book, I was able to specify eye and hair color, and to indicate that Charlie wore glasses. I was also able to include Henry and Charlie’s friend Cate in the story, which both kids love.

The book itself is very sweet; Charlie is the captain of a spaceship, and he saves the galaxy from a pair of fairly ineffective bad guys. The main character is courageous and cheerful, and there is no violence at all, just lots of good problem solving (and one rocket crash, in which no one is hurt). The story has a nice moral–”Your family and friends know you are one of a kind!”–and the illustrations are bright and cheerful.

The book comes with a cd, which I found kind of meh. A recorded voice reads the story, complete with a ding sound that tells kids when to turn the page (remember that?). Charlie didn’t like that the voices were wrong; the Charlie in the story sounds like a girl, and the voice of Cate is clearly a boy. Plus, this particular cd includes a selection of songs, all of which have a kind of 1970s hippie musical feel to them (think songs that didn’t make it into Godspell). And the songs are looooonnnnng. The first time we listened to it, I dozed off and Charlie wandered away to play, all during the first song. Henry, however, LOVES the cd; he sits with the book in his lap and follows the story and shushes anyone who talks during the music. So it is possible that Charlie and I are just missing the point of this part of the package. Or that we’re too cynical to enjoy the hippie songs about being brave and special.

My kids spend a lot of time pretending that they are characters in the stories we read; it’s been fun to read a story where they really ARE characters. I’m just hoping they don’t start singing those songs.

October 18, 2006

moral: whining will get you a new toilet

So I can’t BELIEVE that I forgot to tell you all this: remember last week when I was all I have TOO MUCH TIME ON MY HANDS, whatever will I DO with myself, wah wah wah and you guys were all teach a class! volunteer! yay for you! (which I totally appreciated, by the way)–remember that?

Yeah.

I wrote that post, hit PUBLISH, and got ready to leave the house to finish running my pre-Girl’s Weekend errands (bank, post office, Gap for long-sleeved tee shirts–is it just me or does packing for a Casual Weekend inevitably turn into a trip to the mall for Things I’m Sure I Will Want To Wear But Don’t Own for you, too? please say it’s not just me). I brushed my teeth, put on my shoes, and stepped into the boys’ bathroom for a Kleenex.

And found myself standing in a puddle of water. A PUDDLE OF WATER! Holy hell.

Imagine the floor COVERED with water! From the toilet! Because I was too busy swearing to take actual pictures.

I said a few choice swear words, grabbed some towels, and started mopping. The toilet was leaking from the part where the tank screws onto the seat (I’m sure there’s a Fancy Name for it, but I was just calling it the–well, never mind. That’s where the leak was). I stuck a pitcher under the leak (what? you don’t keep a plastic pitcher in your bathroom? how do you fill the humidifiers up?) and said a few more swear words and went to call the plumber.

When the office manager answered the phone, I said, “I HAVE A LEAKING TOILET AND I AM TOTALLY LEAVING TOWN TOMORROW AND CAN YOU PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE SEND SOMEONE OUT HERE RIGHT NOW? PLEASE?!?! BECAUSE THE TOILET! IS LEAKING! EVERYWHERE! AND I’M GOING OUT OF TOWN!” Yes, she said, she absolutely could; her guys were finishing a job and were going to get some lunch and then would be right over.

So I stopped yelling and started assessing the leak because she was asking me all kinds of questions like, “Is the toilet overflowing?” (answer: thankfully, no) and “Will it flush?” (answer: I don’t know and I’m not finding out). And as I was assessing, I realized that HOLY HELL the toilet is ALSO leaking from UNDERNEATH! Like where it meets the FLOOR! Oh my god! And dammit! When I relayed this to the office manager, she tells me that the problem is most likely one of two things: my “stool” needs to be reset (dear god, please DO NOT call it a “stool”) or–OR!–my sewer line is backed up and will need to be, er, unbacked up, something like that. “Is the tub draining slowly?” she asked me.

“Well, you know, no more slowly than usual,” I tell her, remembering in perfect detail a conversation Wade and I have had a couple of times recently about how damn SLOW the drain on that tub is.

“Is there raw sewage backing up into the bathtub?” she asks me.

“OH MY GOD NO!” I said.

“Then that’s good.”

You THINK?

Anyway, she gets the plumbers set to come out to the house, and I spend the next hour FREAKING OUT because OH MY GOD I will have to go to Kansas City WITHOUT a long sleeved brown tee shirt and I’m CERTAIN that it’s my sewer line and what am I supposed to PACK and thank god this happened TODAY and not TOMORROW when Wade was at work or the ENTIRE HALLWAY would have been flooded!

We have lovely parquet flooring! Home buyers love parquet flooring!

(Later, my mother reminded me that I could have turned the water off, and when I started to say, sure, but we don’t have the special key for the water main outside, she said, “No, in the bathroom. You could have turned the water to the TOILET off.” Why yes, I suppose I could have. If I had thought of it. Which I didn’t. Because I was too worried about what to wear to meet People From the Internet.)

Wade called while I was freaking out about my tee shirts waiting for the plumber and I said, “Guess what I’m doing!”

And he said, “Painting the bathroom?” And then he started to laugh because ha ha ha I’m always saying “I’m going to PAINT the BATHROOM! This week! Really!”

I said, “No, but I am IMPROVING the bathroom!” Because stopping the leak seemed like a huge improvement.

The plumbers finally finished their lunch and came to look at my toilet. They went in the bathroom to check things out, and I could hear them laughing and saying things like, “HOLY CRAP! Look at THAT!” and “I’ve never seen ANYTHING like THAT before!” Which was a real confidence builder.

In the end, the deal was this: the bolts on the toilet–the ones that screw the tank to the seat AND the ones that screw the seat to the floor–had ALL rusted out at the EXACT SAME MOMENT (I know! what are the odds?), causing the toilet to leak everywhere. I would need new bolts and new flaps and I should also have a new somthingInevercaughtthenameof and I said, FINE FINE! fix it all! and they headed out to the plumbing store.

And twenty minutes later, my phone rang. It was the office manager; the plumbers (Charlie was impressed that we needed TWO plumbers this time) had gone THREE places looking for replacement parts for my toilet; the office manager had called FOUR other places, looking for the same parts. No go. I was going to have to have a new toilet.

Whatever. At least it wasn’t a new sewer line.

Charlie was home for exactly thirty seconds before he decided he had to poop. So much for the pristine new toilet.

And never again will you hear me complain about needing more to do with my time. Because I’m totally going to paint that bathroom. This week! Really.

October 17, 2006

Fashion Friday (Tuesday Edition)

because you wait all week for this . . .

Recently, the lovely Kelly raised an excellent point. She wrote, “Another piece of my wardrobe that I’ve found to be lacking is the business/interview outfit. I’ve had to attend the occasional business meeting since I became a stay-at-homer, because of my freelance work, and I have no workplace-appropriate clothes left in my closet. So that’s another piece to add to my wardrobe shopping list.”

Did someone say shopping? I love shopping.

Shopping is easier, as we all know, when we know SPECIFICALLY what we’re looking for. So when you’re interviewing for a job, what should you be looking for? Or–more tricky–when you’re Kelly, and you will go to business type meetings SOME times but not ALWAYS, how can you make your wardrobe work for you?

First things first: if you are EVER going to meet with ANYONE who may be a potential employer or client, you need to have something in your closet that is work appropriate. As a freelancer, EVERY meeting with a client is essentially an interview; when this particular project is over, you want the client to offer you more work, or to recommend you to someone else who wants to offer you work. The upside of freelancing is that you work essentially on your own schedule; the downside, of course, is that you are always looking for a job. The way you present yourself at that meeting goes a long way toward getting you hired, before you have even done any work for the client.

Go ahead, call me shallow, but I absolutely believe this: what you wear to an interview–for a short-term freelance assignment or a full-time career position–says a lot about you, about your competence and qualifications. For starters, it shows the potential employer that you understand what kind of workplace she’s running; it also shows that you respect her and the time she is taking to meet with you. What you wear speaks to your work ethic and your moral sense. I know, I know, you can’t judge a book by it’s cover, but if you show up for a meeting in ripped jeans and a tank top that shows the world your rack, you may not make the best possible impression.

Unless you’re freelancing as a stripper. Which I assume most of you are not. Although, if you are? I totally want to hear about that.

So how do you shop for a job interview?

The first thing is to know the environment in which you will be working–or in which the people you will be working for will be working. Does everyone in this particular business wear a suit to work? Or is it more of a cargo pants-and-graphic-tees kind of organization? I’m going to assume that you will be freelancing in a field that you already know something about, including what the dress code is; if that’s not true, then you need to do some research and find out what people wear to work. The same goes for an interview for a conventional job; find out what people wear to work in this field and plan accordingly.

Here are three possible outfits for three different work environments; all three include pieces that you either already own or could easily incorporate into your every day wardrobe.

Option One: Funky Casual
Office attire consists of jeans or cargo pants and tees, for the most part. Shorts and sandals may be acceptable for every day wear. Very casual.

What to Wear: You can wear jeans for this interview, but chose a pair with a dark rinse, hemmed for heels (do NOT wear anything faded or ripped–in fact, throw those away altogether). Pair them with a sweater or cool tee and a fitted jacket; Banana Republic has a nice selection. Open toed shoes are fine, but flip flops and other casual sandals are not. Go with a pretty peep toed pump in an interesting fabric or pattern. But please, pedicure first. Really.

Option Two: Business Casual
No jeans, but no suits. Casual but conservative; shorts and short skirts are out, as are open toed shoes.

What to Wear: Wool trousers or skirt with a jacket. You can put a tee or a pretty camisole under the jacket as long as you leave it on; the tee should not have any writing or pictures on it and the camisole should cover the girls. If you think you might take the jacket off, chose a sweater or blouse. Go with heels or a flat with a pointy toe or some cool embellishment.

Option Three: Business Attire
Suits for all, or some reasonable facsimile thereof. Yes, Virginia, there ARE still fields where people wear suits; my husband works in one. Envy him.

What to Wear: A suit (duh). I’m serious about this; if you’re going to work for people who go All Out at work, you need to meet their standards. Think about a suit that has pants AND a skirt, for maximum mileage. The pants should be hemmed for heels; the skirt should fall to just below the knee when you stand up (any shorter and you’re showing off some not-work-friendly assets, particularly when you sit down). If this is your basic, go-to suit, choose a neutral color; I like charcoal grey or brown. Black can make you look tired and frumpy, while light colors show dirt. Stick with a classic cut and a seasonless wool fabric. Ann Taylor Loft has beautiful AND affordable suits; J. Crew has magnificent, timeless suits, but they WILL cost you. Remember that a tailor can be your best friend; a suit won’t always fit right off the rack. When you’re not going to interviews, feel free to separate the pieces; wear the pants with a pretty sweater and the jacket with your jeans and the skirt with . . . well, everything. For the interview, pair your suit with a dressier shoe, like a beautiful pump or slingback. I do not suggest bare legs with the skirt; neutral hose are the best look. Wear a blouse or broadcloth shirt or a dressy sweater. Avoid obvious cleavage at all costs.

A few other rules:

Don’t wear anything that doesn’t fit right. Haven’t tried your suit on since you had the baby? Try it on, right now; don’t assume that on the morning of the interview you will be able to squash yourself into it. You will spend the entire interview fretting about how your spleen is being crushed by the pants.

Don’t wear anything stained or pilled or torn. Although OF COURSE you don’t have anything like this, because you CLEANED YOUR CLOSET and got rid of all those things. RIGHT?

Check your hemlines, both above and below. Potential employers want you for your brain, not your legs. Or your tits. Unless, again, you are a stripper, in which case you can wear whatever you want to your interview.

Avoid jangly jewelry. Charm bracelets are back, and I love mine, but damn it’s noisy. Don’t distract the employer.

Err on the side of MORE dressed up. Of course, think carefully about this; you probably don’t need to wear a suit to meet with the Casual Friday office, for example. But never, EVER wear flip flops to an interview (or to the White House). EVER.

In the end, though, the Most Important rule is this: don’t assume that because you WORK from home, your at-home clothes can double as work clothes. Sure, you may wear your yoga pants the ENTIRE time you’re doing the actual project–they may even be the SAME yoga pants, for all I know–but don’t be tempted to wear them to the office to drop off the finished product. It honestly doesn’t take that much more effort to make a really good impression, and if we’re talking about your livelihood here, it’s worth the extra few minutes. Know your clients, shop your closet, make a plan.

It’s that easy.