Pretty Pretty Bang Bang

Back in college I was a member of the Pi Beta Phi sorority. Things went well until my Junior year when I became more disillusioned with the group, rebelled and eventually was kicked out. Naturally, I have no warm fuzzy feelings towards the group or any fraternal organization since that incident. The Pi Phis have long been associated with the Arrowmont School of Arts and Crafts in Gatlinburg, TN which they started in 1910 and still fund today. I knew about Arrowmont in college but never really gave it any thought until now. On Sunday, March 26, I will visit Arrowmont for the first time where I will attend a week-long metals workshop. I admit I feel a bit weird about the whole thing. Here I am, a former Pi Phi, crossing over enemy lines to work on the other side. I know the sorority isn’t as involved in the school as they once were, and it’s not like I’m going to be branded a rebel by anyone there, but it is an unsettling feeling. Will I see a bunch of stuff with arrows or angels on it (Pi Phi symbols)? Will anyone ask me if I was a member of the sorority? Does it matter? Im the big picture, no. I’m a much different person now than I was in college. Today, I’m just an artist who wishes to attend a school to learn more about my craft. I won’t be posting next week since I’ll be knee-deep in metals work, but look for stories from TN and hopefully lots of pictures the first week of April.

I’ve been on a quest for the past year and this last weekend I found my handbag Holy Grail. When the metallic craze began I wanted a handbag that wasn’t too gold, not too silver, not too shiny and not too bright. This perfect bag also had to be leather and affordable. So while shopping at Jordan Creek Mall in Des Moines, I kept an eye out for that elusive bag. We were on our way out when I mentioned I wanted to breeze through the handbag area of Dillard’s before we left. Immediately, my eyes were drawn to a shelf of Michael Kors bags from this past summer. They were all in soft metallics and were simple in design. The sign read “33% off” but I stopped anyway. They had one bag left in a hobo style that was a soft pewter metallic leather. It was marked half price, but the gold bag next to it was marked 75% off. I thought it wouldn’t hurt to ask if it had perhaps missed a markdown so I took both bags over to the counter and asked the saleslady if they were supposed to be the same price. Score! The bag I wanted had in fact missed the markdown and was supposed to be 75% off. It was mine! Now I have my perfect metallic summer bag at a price I wanted to pay. It’s leather, a hobo style, affordable, and stylish. I just love it when a plan comes together!

My nieces are just adorable and my sister is a wonderful mom. I have so much respect for both my sis and brother-in-law for the terrific job they’re doing as parents. First, it’s exhausting. Second, you never get any rest. So, hats off to you, sis and thanks for taking the “kid” responsibility off of my shoulders. Keep up the great work.

Due to unforeseen circumstances, we took an alternate route back from Des Moines which forced us to finish our journey on Highway 65 rather than Highway 13. This was one of the most harrowing trips I’ve ever taken. First, I hate to drive. Second, I hate long car trips. Third, when I’m done with my weekend I want to go home. All of these things came in to play when we met my cousin and his family at Marshall corners in Marshall, MO at the corner of I-70 and 65. While I may sound straightforward that we would get on 65 and go South to Springfield, it must be noted that the “highway” is mainly two lanes and it cuts through the center of every single town, speck and burb on the way forcing the drivers to slow down to 35-45 miles per hour. It’s bad enough that the regular highway limit is 60, but slowing down every 10 miles makes it worse. Forget passing as the road is curvy and hilly. Oh, and I was driving my mom’s car which does not have a CD player so I’m forced to try and pick up random radio stations along the way. So my journey of 133 miles took about 2 1/2 hours without stopping. Needless to say, I’m worn out.

My husband asked me what the deal was with all the song titles so I thought I’d explain. I didn’t set out to be cute or funny but after the first one was titled, I thought I’d challenge myself to see how many I could use that pertained to the subject. I doubt this will last forever. You’ll know when I’m done when I use the title of a particular Don McLean song. Stay tuned!

I have no idea who the design wizard was who invented Crocs sandals, but they have gotten completely out of control. For starters, they are butt-ugly. I don’t care how comfortable they claim to be there are more dignified and stylish ways to achieve comfort. Hell, they make Birkenstocks look chic. That’s a good indication of how awful they really are. To make matters worse, I’m now seeing them on men! Eek! Plastic shoes with holes haven’t been this prevalent in fashion society since the jelly sandals of the ’80s. For the beauty of our world, please stop wearing them!

Ok, I’ve faced the music and am ready to rejoin Weight Watchers. I have now signed up for their online tools, created a profile and entered my food so far today. This is pretty damned cool! I have access to over 27,000 foods and the site automatically tells me how many points I’ve used, how many I have left, what my flex point amount is and tracks my exercise! Plus, I can access it from any computer. I also used the Recipe section to find out how many points were in the Tostadas Steve made the other night. I think the points were a bit high since we had calculated 3 less than the site did. While not perfect, this is very cool!

First, it’s painfully obvious that I must take Foreigner’s Greatest Hits out of my car. I’ve been a Lifetime member of Weight Watchers for almost three years. It’s a spectacular program and it really works. However, over the past year I’ve taken a few too many liberties with my Points program. Bottom line is I got lazy and cocky. I felt like I deserved that extra beer or I could justify fries with my sandwich instead of a salad. All of these are great in moderation, but every weekend was getting to be a bit much. I got fluffy. I gained 10 pounds. My pants are a bit tighter than they should be. Now, I admit vanity plays a role in this, but it’s time to face the music. These 10 pounds are living on borrowed time. By the time I celebrate my 40th (er, 30th) birthday this June, I want them gone. Although I’m still officially a Lifetime member and can attend meetings for free, I’m not attending them or weighing myself regularly. So today at lunch I bought a WW scale ($59.99 at Bed, Bath & Beyond) and am going to register for WW online. I can’t get my butt over to the meetings, but I sure can plant it in front of the computer. Besides, online you can enter your food and the site calculates the points for you. So now I’ll know exactly how many points is in my pint glass of Schlafly Scotch Ale. I’ll keep you posted!

I’va had short hair my entire life so about three years ago I started growing it out. It’s now past the “annoying” growth stage so I can just let it go as long as I want. However, I have quickly learned that long hair has its own unique issues. Aside from the fact that my hair is a lovely combination of course, fine and wavy, my main issue comes on windy days like today. One step out of the car and my hair is instantly whipped into my face and sticks to my lipstick. If I open my mouth I get a mouthful of hair. In order to avoid “hair mouth” I position my head so I’m facing the wind and purse my lips together to avoid any strays sticking to them. It’s quite a lovely sight to see. Now I know how Cousin It feels.

Des Moines is too damned cold! I just looked at the forecast for the weekend and Thursday’s high is 38 with a chance of flurries! Brrr! No wonder Ralph is always complaining about the cold. Sunday we get into the 40s – woohoo! Guess I’m packing my long underwear. With my luck, it will be sunny and warm here the whole time I’m gone and will turn cold on Monday just in time for my return.