My favorite night out…

Is in. Bed. Ya dig?

Aperol spritz+tv+bed= unbeatable evening of fun.

Where are you? At a club? A bar? Vegas? Good for you! Now don’t get me wrong, I love a good night out. I love being with friends and family. I’m all about it.

But a good night in is a beautiful thing. And when you’re in for the evening you have choices. What will you do? Where will you sit? The living room is a nice, solid choice. It’s got the biggest tv, it’s near snacks… it’s a no brainer. Maybe you watch in your den or basement, we have neither so that’s out. We do have a family room, but it’s near the laundry room and sitting in there sometimes reminds me of, you know, laundry. And other things I’m avoiding.

My go-to place is always the same – it’s my bed. And it’s not even a King. I still love it. I could rule the world from here.

So I’ll raise my glass, send you good wishes. Here’s to you, out in the world, in real clothes. I applaud you. Have one for me. I’ll have one for you too. If you need me, you know where to find me.

Doodle Me Crazy

I have a confession. When I’m on a long telephone conversation, or in a long meeting, or in any place that requires my attention for more than a hot second – I doodle. I’ve done it since I was little. I do it in meetings. I do it at home. I do it anywhere. I do it everywhere. Sometimes if I’m in a meeting with very senior people, I spend parts of that meeting reminding myself not to doodle. Scared yet?

I got into massive trouble in elementary school for it, the teachers said I was “making a mess of my papers”. True that.  By high school my grades were so good, they didn’t care what my notebook looked like. They would have let me doodle on tables. That’s the beauty of Catholic school. A few A’s and you run the joint.

Through the years I’ve come to terms with it. It doesn’t mean I’m not interested or paying attention. It just means that I had a sudden, unstobbale desire to scribble something down. It’s like a tick. On paper.

Yesterday, someone at work called me out on it. “Nice drawing” they smirked. Uh oh. Oh well. I couldn’t hide it forever. The first step is admitting you have a problem right?

So here’s a glimpse of my bad habit. Notice sometimes I go abstract, sometimes I go modern – other times I go graffati. I’m so diversified in my doodle. You can’t take that from me. Send help. Or atleast some clean paper.

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Product Ho

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Unlike my marriage and in my friendships. I’m bored with my beauty products quickly. I’m fickle. Unfaithful. I need change. I need excitement. I need to blow some money at Sephora – it makes me feel alive.

  • I’m always on the hunt for a good, peel-the-gook-out-your-face mask. And clay is all the rage right now. After reading all 2,113 reviews on Amazon, I decided it was the one for me. And I was right. It’s dries to a crisp and makes me feel squeaky clean. Try it. Or don’t.
  • Clinique has always made the best moisturizers – although they are boring as hell. This one is no different. It goes on like butta, soaks in quickly and disappears. After a summer full of coconut and lime and almond smelling products, it’s nice to put something on that smells like nothing.
  • One more from Clinique. This one is an oldie. But I’ve been too busy wearing a dark, chocolate stain and didn’t know everyone was addicted to this. This is an almost gloss/almost lipstick combo in their most “wearable” shade – Black Honey. When you see it in the tube, you’ll be horrified. It’s as dark and deep as a raisin, but it goes on sheer and light.  Some gloss is a little too…..glossy. Ya know? Not this. This is a little bit of sheen and color that doesn’t make me feel like Krystal Carrington (anyone? anyone?).
  • Now this last bottle is a little controversial. Many of my gal pals have voiced their confusion and anger about applying a straight on oil to their skin. This particular one by Josie Maran is oil for your face, hair and skin. An all over oil.  I bought the light version because the regular was out of stock and I needed it asap. Like an addict. It was worth it. Is it great for your nice, cotton pillow cases? Not so much. But you’ll be glowing in the morning.

So these are my new boyfriends. My new mistresses. My new loves. They’ll be doing the walk of shame come October but I love them today.

Eat in Chicken

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This is the Susquehanna River, in my hometown, Harrisburg, PA. We took a quick trip over the weekend to visit family and do a joint birthday celebration for my sister and me. Me and my sister. My sister and I. Pick one.

Fun, useless fact: Did you know that Girl, Interrupted was filmed here? This is the Market Bridge, featured many times in the flick.  The movie starred Angelina Jolie  – in her Oscar-winning performance – and Wynona Ryder before her shoplifting days.  And that poor gal Britney Murphy, before her dead days.  The title of the post is an homage to one of her lines in the movie (she’s one of the patients in a mental hospital and is obsessed with owning a home with an “eat in chicken…um..kitchen” She’s also obsessed with eating whole chickens. It was a great movie. This was not a major plot line but I think of this line whenever I see a whole, roasted chicken. Freakish but true).

We came home to the below monsoon.

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Friday Night Smackdown

This is what goes on in my house every Friday night thanks to my nine year old.
The obsession du jour. WWE.

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Gone are the days of Lego.
The days of Ninjago.
The days of super heroes and Star Wars (although he still geeks out to them at the movies).

Now. Every Friday night, we get to see the ultimate male soap opera.
You want over-the-top dramatics and bad acting? Well turn off your Spanish soap and come watch this! First the entrance. Each “wrestler” has a theme song that they play walking to the stage….I mean…ring.

At first I thought it was violent, but then I realized it’s a dance. A dance where no one really touches – you grunt, you scream, and then it’s over. These men are on a bouncy stage, in short, tight, clothes completely avoiding each other. And the incredibly big crowd loves it.
I know all the characters now, John Cena, The Rock….actually those are the only ones I remember.

I’m usually catching up on my US Weekly or People magazine while all this goes on.
So really, who am I to judge?

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.