But first…let me take a selfie

Did you hear/read/watch the story about Kim Kardashian being addicted to selfies? Although I’m not sure you can call it selfies when all the photos are of her butt.
I have to admit I love taking selfies too. Just ask my daughter. Or my husband. Or all the other people I grab.
I didn’t think I had a problem until I decided to print some of my pics (yes I still print pictures).
Maybe I have a problem too.
…Or maybe those people that DON’T take selfies have the real problem.
See what I did there?
Also – is it a selfie if there’s more than one person? Howie Mandel calls them an usie. Is it scary that I remember things Howie Mandel said? I should be quoting Maya Angelou but she never mentioned selfies. And now she’s dead.
Here’s some friend selfies, a sister-in-law selfies, a xmas selfie, some night-out-on-the-town selfies,  a lying on the beach selfie, even one uber close-up selfie. Glad I exfoliated that day. There are also usies. And finally the daily selfie taken by my son with my hijacked phone.

I can hear my daughter shouting at me all the way from camp,”stop saying selfies!”.
Selfies.
Enjoy.
(Notice the pic of me taking a pic of my husband taking a selfie, or an usie. Or whatever)
Aren’t you glad you’ll have 30 more days of this crazy?

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Gladiator in a Suit

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Hi. My name is wifemothereventplanner. And it’s been 7 days since I’ve written a post.

I’ve been distracted. Diverted. Absorbed. Engrossed.

Every minute that I’m not working or mothering or wife’ing has gone to one thing. One singular obsession (different from all my other obsessions).

SCANDAL.

I blame Netflix. I blame my sister-in-law and all my gal pals for pushing the show like crack. I blame all the articles I’ve been trying to ignore about how great the show is.  I thought I could ignore it. After all – I’m the only girl in the Northern Hemisphere who still hasn’t watched an episode of Grey’s Anatomy.  My idea of McDreamy is Don Draper or Walter White (name those shows).

A few weeks ago I found myself with an entire Sunday afternoon with nothing to clean, cook or buy and in a half trance I did it. I started the series. Episode after episode, I binged. Hard.

Ok. Everyone was right. It’s delicious. Just enough story line to keep up with the bedroom shots. It’s really fun. All the women on the show are written quirky and smart and perfectly balanced between batshit crazy and funny – just how I like it. A powerful black woman sleeping with the President while legally and illegally protecting her client’s reputations? Sign me up.

Watching a whole series at once is something I usually do with my husband – but I convinced him that this show wouldn’t be his thing. He should just leave me alone to watch the whole thing. Now.

I’m all caught up on Season 1 but it isn’t enough. I may have to buy Season 2, even though it’ll eventually air for free – but that would mean waiting. WAITING. Seriously? That’s for the birds. I need my fix now.

Like any good junkie, I’ll keep trying to act normal and pretend I’m not thinking about Olivia Pope or the hot President or how wickedly good the First Lady is.  I’ll just go on with my day. Like a normal person. Nothing to see here folks. Just killing time until my next hit.

 

 

 

Sunny with a Chance of Weirdo

You know what I talk about 10 times a day?

Weather.

“Can you believe how hot it is?” “Did you see the storm last night?” “How’s the weather where you are?”

When did this happen?

And I’m not talking about filler conversation – or things I say when I don’t have other things to say.  I want to talk about the weather.

I’m into it man.

I have a weather app on my phone that I check more than my emails.

I also like looking at worldwide weather and thinking about what it would be like to live in other weather.

You know I’m a freak – I’m just giving you another reason.

This post could have also been called “Weather Voyeur” – but I thought that sounded too fancy.

Ok – here are my top weather stalking and then pretending I live there cities…..you’re welcome.

 

 

I won’t tell you that I’m also obsessed with random US cities (Duluth, Austin, Bangor) but I thought the global cities would make me look cooler.

Things to talk to my future therapist about…

This isn’t really a post – it’s more like a confession.

I can’t master the art of food quantity.  Either I make too much or I make nothing. I made French toast for my kids today. They  had one piece each and were done.  Which, by the way, is exactly the amount they had the last time I made French toast. What’s wrong with me?  I’m sure it has to do with my childhood (food is not love!) or my distorted sense of reality or something.  Anyway – If you are in or around the Bucks County area – feel free to stop in.  I’ve got enough food to feed you all.  Now…onto lunch.

Damn you Instagram! Damn you!

I’m hooked.  I’m addicted.  Every shot is art (in my head).  I’ve convinced myself that I’m a photog genius.

Also thanks to Insta (that’s what the cool kids call it) – I can’t freakin’ delete anything.  I’m forced to keep random shots because they’ve got a cool filter on them and they’re cropped well…..

Behold….the crap I can’t get rid off (actually this is the best of that crap, I’ll spare you the 1,000 shots of my children)

I like to call this one….birds on a tree

This one is titled, I Should Have Had A Salad

Change jar in our kitchen – note courtesy of my 8 yr old (they’ve been learning about community service at school)

Mini rose bush and black and white cookies…what?

   

You know how you hang up stuff above your stove?  Me too.  Except then I take a picture of it and pretend it’s art.

My sister made these cute little bracelets for my brats.  Then guess what happened?  I took a damn instagram and now I have to keep the picture forever.

I need an intervention.  Maybe there’s an app for that.

A ritual, a habit and an obsession walk into a family….

Ritual:

I have the same thing for breakfast every morning.

Toast (usually sourdough but sometimes rye) and coffee.

Truth be told – most days I have 2 breakfasts,

one  at 7:00am – because I’m a 100 years old,

and the other at about 9:30am – with the rest of the world, to keep them company (another cup of coffee, one piece of toast)

Habit:  

For as long as we’ve lived here, as soon as he gets home from work,

my husband walks into the house, takes off his shoes, and leaves them for dead.

There are 3 other people living here, where are all the other shoes you ask?

They’re a few feet away, in a shoe rack

(or at least in very close proximity of the shoe rack).

      

Obsession:

When my babies were born, they were each given a receiving blanket.

My daughter was gifted her blanket by a close family friend,

it was simple, white and cotton, she named it Blankie

My son was given his by a beloved aunt who made it for him,

he calls it Blue Blankie or Yangster

Ofcourse today, 13 and 8 years later, respectively

they are a ball of yarn and a shred of cloth.

They have literally been loved to death.


She blog, he blog, a we blog. I blog, you blog a they blog, you blog a we blog a they blog…(sorry Cyndi)

Are you like me?

Do you blog or read blogs for mental sanity?

If you are a blogger – did this blog lead to a compulsive obsession with the WordPress or Google statistics page?

I am hooked

3 people from Korea viewed the blog yesterday

22 people from Canada found it today (I’m killing in Canada)

Last Friday 2 people from down under were on it (holding myself back from shrimp on barbie/kangaroo jokes)

I’m glad we don’t get too much info from these stats.  If I had an email, or contact of some kind, I’d be forced to reach out.  To ask why?  Was it the tag that drew you? Was it the title?  Did you type something wrong and end up here?  Will I ever see you again? Will you bring a friend?

The other thing that I’ve found is an urge to get others to blog.  I think we should all blog.  Are you wondering who would read your daily activities, thoughts and insane diatribes?  3 people in Korea – that’s who!

Everybody Loves an Addiction….

And this is mine.  Everybody Loves Raymond … Oh yes, I watch tons of current TV.  All the Housewives of the US – and some of Vancouver.  I watch what I think are smarter shows, like Breaking Bad, Dexter, and Downton Abbey.  Then again I also watch things about tiny beauty contestants, people buying flats in Barcelona and literally anything on The Food Network.  But this silly, corny, staged show makes me very happy.  I literally feel like I’m in my pajamas, tucked into bed when I watch it – even if I’m not.  My husband calls it my comfort blanket.  He’s right. Plus, it’s on all the time – everywhere!  I’m trying to wean off of it.  I try and rotate in 30 Rock and The Big Bang Theory, but it’s a process.

Don’t judge me, ok, judge me.