Friday, August 30, 2013

Who are you wearing?!?!

When I think of going back to school I remember how sad I was that summer was ending, but how excited I was to put on that ever important first-day-of-school-outfit, get back to business and see all of my friends.

And boys...I was also excited to see boys.

Cute boy Jeremy, on the bus.

The first-day-of-school-outfit pretty much consumed the latter half of my summer.

The chosen outfit lay out on my carpet in the shape of my body the night before complete with shoes, socks and earrings perfectly placed like a dead body at a crime scene.

Obviously other girls (and guys) back in the day felt the same passion for fashion as I did.

Here are some painstakingly picked-out-outfits. The first day of school at Buchanan Junior High School in Tampa, fall of 1984.

My girl gang hanging at "the wall" - the spot we would meet up at before and after school. Note my friend Lori's brazen "Who Cares What Frankie Say?" t-shirt, a ballsy first day fashion choice. Also note Laurie's (yes, there was a Lori, Lori and Laurie hanging out together - THE 80's!) sweet sleeveless Mickey shirt along with my skin tight gray acid wash jeans that she borrowed and never returned.

Folders! Pearls! Folders! Bandana's in hair!

Holy crap, check out my friend Tracey and her friend BILLY. LOOK AT BILLY'S SHIRT. And gold chains! Was that shirt really purchased in the men's department? At Chess King maybe? Or possibly Oak Tree?

Glasses on strings! Pretty feathered blonde hair! Belts!

And the boys were stylin' too...check out these fellas:
White jeans! A suit jacket? Pretty feathered blonde hair!

I don't really know what to say about this one except it was taken DURING PE:

Cute Jamie, with a funny-school-monkey-poster
and his cool Ray-Bans.

And then there's me, and my first day choice.
A cute gray number with light pink polka dots, pink belt with gray socks and pumps.
My other first day choices included:



On the back of Dan's picture I wrote HOT! and drew flames coming off the word:

Dan reminded me of David Lee Roth, he was cute and crazy.
He also ate like five giant rolls that he bought from the hot lunch line every day.
He was my favorite.

Those were some of the most difficult years I think, junior high.
Not a little kid anymore and not really a teenager, thinking I knew it all while trying to figure everything out.

God bless you Buchanan Junior High, I hope girl gangs still meet up at the wall.
God bless you mouth full of braces, sunglasses and tuxedos in gym class.
God bless you, 1984.



Wednesday, August 21, 2013


I’m having some issues with two of my best friends/worst enemies this week. 
You guys know them; have heard me talk about them before.
I love them when they first come over but they always overstay their welcome.
They are both sweet, beautiful, oh - they’re totally rich and ummm…delicious? 

I had to take the boys with me to Trader Joe’s – that’s how Cookie Butter made her way back into my cart and my house and the CostCo sized jar of Nutella was a gift “for the boys” from my mother-in-law. Thanks a lot.

Having these two bitches sitting side by side all innocent and cute in my kitchen cupboard is like an alcoholic having a freezer full of vodka. I have a freezer full of vodka, but thankfully that doesn’t seem to be a problem for me.

So after the family goes to bed it’s time for me to go and visit with my buddies, and well, you know.
I want them out of here. And duh, I’m not going to throw them away.

Now they didn't totally leave the next day, but let’s just say there was much less of them to love. 

I wake up with a food hangover, a rock in my puffy gut and a hatred toward these store bought items that have totally dicked me over.

This morning I put this on under my clothes:

Yes, it is as sexy and comfortable as you would imagine.

This garment is like a modern version of an old-timey corset. It’s like so tight I put on extra deodorant knowing I’ll be sweating bullets. It also forces me to sit up really straight, have awesome posture and makes my boobs look even bigger so hey, everyone enjoy that.

I know I have issues that I need to work on revolving around food. I also know that these issues have been with me since like, birth and will probably never go away. It’s just sometimes; I wish it could all be more normal. 

I wish I could have a “candy drawer” in my house. How the hell do people manage that?
These must be the same people who sometimes are so busy they “forget to eat.”

I wish I could own a box of Oreos and eat two after dinner and be done with it.

I wish I could have ‘effing Cookie Butter and Nutella on my shelves, to spread on a piece of toast and say, “that was great I’m completely satisfied.” But unless we get some degrading lock or alarm on the cupboards, I just don’t think I can handle it. 

I know this isn’t my usual bubble gum post but it’s just where I am right now.
I promise next week I’ll go back to writing about lip gloss or some bad eighties outfit.
But for today, here I am...doing the walk of shame home after a night of partying with some old friends who are a bad influence on me. 

Friday, August 16, 2013

In sync.

Ahhh, the lost art forms from the 80's - sadly so many revolving around music.

Music videos, mix tapes, assembling groups of musicians who have no business spending any time together like Bob Dylan and Sheila E...

And arguably the most important lost 80's art form - LIP SYNC CONTESTS AT UNDERAGE DANCE CLUBS.

My best friend Susie and I were experts in all of the above. Especially the lip syncing. And the contests.

Susie and I were very into MTV and music - she loved Def Leppard the way I loved The Rolling Stones. Her passion for the bass player Rick Savage ran deep, and was quite admirable.

Besides music we were both very into fashion. We went to great lengths to show the world we were best friends by dressing exactly alike, which you can see more of here.

There was one matchy-matchy Lori-Susie outfit that wasn't included in the above post because I couldn't find the photo.

Had I destroyed the evidence that these outfits actually happened? I searched and searched, could see it in detail in my head, tore my albums/shoeboxes apart then eventually gave up. 

Until this past weekend at my Mom's house - in an old smelly photo album in her shed out behind her house.

I let out a little yelp as I unearthed this:

These were our outfits when we made the FINALS of the lip sync contest at Faces Teen Night Club.

Faces was in a strip mall by a movie theatre and a Showbiz Pizza Parlor and had everything a thirteen year old girl could want including a DJ, a disco ball and mouthwatering mocktails.

 Let's just break down this look(s), shall we?

1.   Matching hot pink streaks in the “winged” sections of our hair. 

2.   Pearls-a-plenty! Identical! Knotted! 

3.   Because every fourteen year old girl needs a HOT PINK CORSET. Jesus.

4.   Cheapo-black “tube skirts” purchased at Rave.

5.   Vacuum cleaner lines - because this was the living room and nobody ever went in there. Except to vacuum.

6.   These outfits needed a little extra something. Like a belt. A silver fucking belt.

7.   Gold chalices on a gold tray. Just in case a priest or a pope stops by.

8.   Cheap-ass black plastic pumps from Payless. Perfect for dancin’ and sweatin’.

Check out Susie’s confidence - her kick ass stance that screams “we are here to win this thing.”
My pose is more cheesecake with the head tilt, come hither look and a “hope this corset doesn’t pop off during the big dance number” vibe about it.

We “sang” and “danced” to the song “Baby Love” by Regina which you should not feel dumb about not knowing.
Regina was one person - not two - so I did more of the background “ooohs” “aaahs” and even a little baby squeal sound (gross) in the song while moving side to side and snapping my fingers while Susie did most of the work.
We got second place.
I can’t remember who won - it doesn’t matter.

What mattered was that we got second, we looked awesome and again, my CORSET did not pop off of my
I’ll drink a giant piña colada mocktail to that.

Friday, August 9, 2013

The icing on the (cup)cake.

If orange is the new black, then cupcake is the new cake.
And it has been for quite some time - you guys know that.

I'm pretty sure I was waaay ahead of the game before cupcake mania set in across the nation.
I've been into cupcakes since, like, I was five?
I mean, who doesn’t love a cupcake?
Whoever doesn't - I'd like to meet with them so I can question them - then maybe smack them around a little bit.

I kind of thought I knew everything about cupcakes that there was to know. That was, until last weekend.
My friend Julie was having a birthday party for her daughter Daphne, who was turning one. Daphne was in her pink tutu sweet as can be having her first cupcake as I grabbed one for myself.

I started to unwrap it when my friend Megan schooled me on how to properly eat one.

"You make a cupcake sandwich, right?" she asked. Then I watched as she did this:

Bing                  Bang              Boom
Who knew…all these years I’d been doing it wrong.

Another pretty pink cupcake I’ve been into lately is this one from Revlon, I’ve been searching high and low to match this MAC lip color that is down to the nub and I think I did pretty good.

Nub vs. New.

Revlon Colorburst Lip Butter in "Cupcake" (how could I not buy it)
was $7.99 at Rite Aid, a perfect summertime frosting for my lips.
Super glossy and hydrating. The color is kind of 60's chic without being too frosty.
Mmmmm, frosty...

Old timey glamourous packaging = SOLD.

Oh, and I'm not kidding when I say that this is my other current favorite cupcake,

Cupcake Vineyards makes a Pinot Grigio that makes me feel like the ultimate Real Housewife of Portland, Oregon.

Seriously, I like this wine. A lot.

I'm going to do a little research to see if this Cupcake Vineyards is an actual place.
It sounds kinda like Oz to me. Maybe I'll work on a Kickstarter campaign to get me there because it
sounds pretty wonderful.

Bing                Bang           Boom

At Daphne's birthday party when I finished my (third) cupcake sandwich
I asked this question to the other women/little girls:
 "When you guys were little, did anyone else used to chew on the cupcake wrapper
 like gum to get off all the leftover cakey bits?"
 Then I ate the cupcake wrapper.
I got the following responses:
"Lori, I think I need to walk away." 

I guess I enjoy my cupcakes like I enjoy my lipstick.
Down to the nub.

Friday, August 2, 2013

Five ways your weekend is different now that you have kids.

It's Friday! Thank God and all that stuff! Right?

Before I had kids (two boys ages five and eight) a typical weekend was jammed packed full of parties/events/gatherings/things.

Remember Friday afternoon happy hour? Remember concerts?
What about brunch after rolling out of bed at 1:00 on Sunday afternoon?
Remember brunch???

Yeah, that doesn't really happen anymore.
Because now, things are different.

Dining out is different.
I live in Portland Oregon, America's foodie capital. In my twenties you would never find me at a chain restaurant - why would I go to Applebee's or Chili's when I could support one of the zillions of local, farm to table, delicious, organic restaurants available to me?

Now, on most Saturday nights you will find me out with my clan at Red Robin complaining like an old lady about how loud it is (why would you go there if you didn't have kids? I see people on dates there and it's so confusing) how nothing on the menu has any flavor, and how a chicken sandwich is a chicken sandwich, not a chicken burger. Jesus.

So. Not. A. Burger.

Sleeping in is different.
Saturday and Sunday morning used to mean waking up between ten and noon and as previously mentioned, going out to that brunch. My signature dish was a giant plate of biscuits and gravy, because I was all into my health and stuff.

Tomorrow, by seven at the latest, I will be bleary eyed sipping my coffee while constantly being told to "LOOK Mommy LOOK" at SpongeBob doing something funny, Fairly Odd Parents doing something annoying or talking to Dora (because nobody else in the room will do it) answering her question regarding what my favorite part of today is.
Answer: NOTHING.

'Eff you Dora.

Drinking is different.
I used to love going out for a fancy drink. Give me the most foo-foo girly thing you got, with lots of cherries, pineapples and tiny umbrellas with extra sugar on the rim. I want a work of sweet, syrupy art going down my gullet. Bonus points to the bartender who has the pretentious giant square ice cubes or the little plastic monkeys.

Tonight, I will settle for some old airplane booze bottles that have been sitting in my freezer since the year of the flood. Either over ice or mixed with some grape Juicy Juice, garnished with an actual grape - if I can find one that's not furry.

Date night is different.
On the off chance my husband and I do get out for a date night it always ends the same way. I know what you're thinking, but you're wrong. Yes we go out to dinner and have a few drinks. Then, we end up buzzed at where else, the worlds most romantic spot - TARGET.

We call it "Drunk Target" or "Tipsy Target" depending on how loopy we are. Because nothing caps off a special evening like stumbling down aisles under fluorescent light with a big red plastic cart to hold you up. I try on clothes, he looks at books and toys and we leave with Ziploc Bags and giant plastic Rubbermaid containers.

Plastic tub and a purple sweater with unicorns on it.

Movies are different.
I am an actor. I used to see every single movie that was up for an academy award religiously every year. Last year I saw one, Les Misérables. Oh wait, and Brave, Wreck It Ralph, and ParaNorman. That's it. Lately I keep talking about how I'd like to see that "new movie" Silver Linings Playbook which I'm beginning to think isn't ever going to happen. And yesterday I saw Snoop Dogg as a snail in Turbo, which made me pretty damn misérable.

'Fo shizzle.
And of course as cliché as it sounds, I wouldn’t change any of it for the world.
Well, maybe some of it. I mean, “for the world?”
I’d get out of eating bland chicken sandwiches and forced early morning conversation with Dora.

My airplane booze and my Drunk Target – I’m keeping those.