Irony

Look closely at the product and what it's for. Then look at the packaging. Shouldn't someone have caught this? Do you also spot a hint of that lovely red bag behind it? She's so pretty.

Imperfections

Last week after the big Nester blog-a-thon, I had planned a big insightful post on what imperfect things I loved in my life. Sadly, I got distracted by having to pay all those State taxes on Ulrika Von Nordland, and then that pretty, pretty purse, and forgot everything I had planned. Don't you hate when that happens? I do remember reading through every blog (yes, I did) and smiling at some of the things people found beautiful, not matter how imperfect the things were. It was interesting to take a peek into the lives of others. Reflective. Of course this led me to think about what I love that other people might not. I had lots and lots of stuff, but the main imperfect things I love (aside from my family-and boy are they imperfect; unlike me) are my dogs. I have two. They have been my faithful companions for years and years. Sometimes I can't believe they've been with us for so long, and other days it's hard to remember life before them.

Pepper was our first dog. She is a shih tzu/pug mix and everyone (especially my MOM) thinks she is ugly. She is far from ugly. She has a beautiful personality and that's all that matters. We got her when she was just about 6 weeks old. We decided to get a dog so I perused the Sunday ads and one popped out at me. I called and asked if I could come look at the puppies. There were 3 left, so I hopped in my car and took a drive. The Beatles brunch was on the radio and I grooved out, singing loudly. When I arrived at the owner's house, 3 sweet little balls of fluff were snuggled up nest to their mom looking at me with deep brown eyes full of the joy only a puppy can have. One puppy broke away, ran at me and grabbed the hem of my jeans. I knew she was the one. I picked her up and wrote a check for $50. It was the best $50 I have ever spent. When we got back into the car, Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band was playing on the radio. I decided immediately to christen her Pepper. She turned out to be a dark gray with bits of white so the name was a perfect fit. She is now 12 years old and my sweet girl. She has big bulging eyes, is *slightly* overweight and has a deep underbite with crazy crooked teeth. I think she's beautiful.

Dutch joined our family almost 8 years ago. He is a gorgeous full blooded Pekingnese. I mean, really, he's pretty (when he's groomed). He's cream colored with a dark face and gorgeous brown eyes that could melt even the hardest of hearts. Sadly, he's also dumb as a box of rocks. Really, really dumb. He also has this little lip thing he does, where only one side comes up a little. We call it his Elvis look. We bought him as a companion for Pepper, but she didn't want anything to do with him. He was about 8 weeks old and had far more energy than Pepper had the patience for. She would jump up on the sofa to get away from him. That worked until he figured out how to jump too. They are now the best of friends. Mostly. Everyone who sees them comments of how sweet a face Dutch has. They rarely comment on Pepper. That's okay though, because I know they're BOTH beautiful, especially on the inside.

Who wouldn't love this face?

Isn't she imperfectly beautiful?

Dutch is not so pretty here because he hadn't been groomed in a while (bad Mommy), but trust me, he's pretty. Look, you can even see a hint of his Elvis look.

Mama's got a brand new bag

After the big blog-a-thon over at Nester's yesterday I had a great thoughtful blog planned out about how much I enjoyed seeing what imperfect things other's found beautiful. It was to be very self actualizing, and deep. I had even planned to post more pictures of things that were not perfect, but incredibly beautiful to me. Oh yeah, I had a plan. I thought about it as I was running errands this afternoon. I wrote it in my head while I sat at the DMV (gah!) waiting to pay the taxes on my new car. If that doesn't make for a fun day, I don't know what does. Once I plunked down a small fortune to the state, I hopped back in my car, Ulrika Von Nordland (she's Swedish, hence the name), and drove off. Ulrika must have sensed my irritation, and somehow she drove me straight to TJMaxx. I love her! Of course since she went through all the trouble of getting me there, I couldn't be rude and not go in and browse around, could I? No! That would offend her. So, I got out and sashayed in. I always sashay when I'm at TJMaxx or Marshalls. I have no idea why other than the sheer excitement of what I might find THIS time. Wheeeeee! When you first walk into TJMaxx, you're confronted by racks and racks of beautiful name brand handbags. Oh, TJMaxx, you tease. You know just how to draw me in. I started walking the aisles, smelling the fine leather. I don't eat cows, but by golly I'll carry a handbag or wear a pair of shoes made of them. I'm weird like that. I walked past many beautiful bags of every shape and color, and then, there, in the back, I saw her. She beckoned to me, like a siren calling sailors to their doom, only not so ominous. Oh, she was a saucy, wicked little thing. A minx. I knew I had to have her. I reached for her and silently prayed she would not be one of those $400 bags marked down to a mere $199. Please, oh please, oh please don't be expensive, I thought as my hand closed around her deep green faux croc handles. As she came down from the hook, I saw a familiar pink and white polka dot interior and my heart soared. I knew she wouldn't be overpriced. I had 4 other bags with that pink and white lining at home. I flipped her around and saw the familiar Liz Claiborne lable. Squeeeeeeee! Her suggested retail was $72. Her TJMaxx price was $29. Huzzah!!!!! I hugged her to my chest and nearly broke out in song, but then I remembered I was in public and reigned myself in. Needless to say she came home with me, though sadly I found no shoes in my size I liked (bummer). The thrill of the bag outweighed the disaapointment over the shoes though and I sashayed out a happy camper. On the way home we stopped and got Ulrika some of that very expensive high octane gas she loves so much. It was $4.39/gallon, but really, she deserved it, right? Look at this bag and tell me Ulrika didn't deserve a little treat.



I will post that meaningful, deep, thought provoking post, perhaps tomorrow, but for tonight, I thought I'd share my pretty new bag. Aren't you just green over her?

It doesn't have to be perfect to be beautiful

My favorite blog, Nesting Place is having the first ever It Doesn't Have to Be Perfect to be Beautiful link-a-thon.

Isn't this pretty? Doesn't it look romantic? Can you imagine yourself curled up with your dh on the sofa with the glow of the candle light making you look years younger? I love candles.

Here's what it really looks like on any given day:

Not quite as romantic. In addition to the HUGE bottle of water and glass, there is a pair of sunglasses, a box of brass fasteners, a can of chalkboard spray paint and a cell phone. Oh, and Lightening McQueen of course. Can't have a day without Lightening McQueen. Underneath is a camcorder and a dog toy. On the sofa behind sits my computer Keiko (yes, I name my stuff), the cord to the camera, 2 remotes, a work file and the yearly alum magazine/update/plea for money from my high school. Ah, every day.

Here are my favorite imperfect pictures:

This was the first day of C's new job. He now has to feed the dogs. He takes it seriously. He heaps the bowls, occassionally to overflowing. The dogs LOVE him.

Ch,ch,ch,changes

Our lives are about to be in an upheaval again. We have decided that I'm quitting my job. I'm scared. I'll be honest, it's about the money. I make a lot. Six figures, a lot. When I first got the job I was embarrassed to tell people I made six figures (not that I flaunted it, but sometimes people ask), but then I realized that I had nothing to be embarrassed about. I should be proud! I am proud. I like making a lot of money. I like not having bills. I paid them all off! I like being about to buy stuff. I like having money in the bank. What I don't like is being apart from my husband. Because of his job (he was in Iraq) and then my job, which transferred me to another state, we haven't lived together in over 2 years. We've of course seen each other, but we haven't actually lived together. It wasn't too bad when we were only about 200 miles apart, but the Army has sent him off to the vast wasteland that is lower Arizona. There is now approximately 1500 miles between here and there and it's getting old. Real old. M and I discussed it and decided that I would quit my job and C, the dogs and I will pack up and head to AZ. When is all this happening, you might wonder? 15 days from now. In just 15 days I will be officially unemployed. If you consider a mom unemployed, that is. I personally don't. A couple of weeks ago the story got a new twist. M is only going to be in AZ until mid-Sept. That's right, C and I will only get to enjoy 100+ degree heat for 2.5 months. Are you curious about where we'll be going in Sept? So are we. As of today, we still don't know where we'll be living. We know where we'd like to go, but where we want to go and where the Army sends us are often miles apart. Stay tuned.

So this is me...

Here I am! Aren't you glad you found me? I know you are. So, what do you want to know? Everything? Well, that's going to take a while. I'll try to be brief. Brevity is not my strong suit. Let's see, I'm in my 30's-are you as shocked as I am about that?-I'm married, and I have a 5 year old little boy. And I love shoes. Too brief? I thought so too! We're on the same wave length my friends.

Okay, so I *am* in my 30's (mid-30's), and married to my man for 13 years now. He is in the military so we lead a vagabond lifestyle. We have lived in 4 states and Germany and have moved at least once every place we've lived. I love to decorate, though moving so much (and never having the same size windows twice) makes it quite a challenge. Also, my husband and I have very different tastes. I like a bit of French Country/cottage-y/casual. Dh likes...well, let's put it this way, when we went to Versailles, he really liked it. If it's carved and gold and gaudy, he likes it. He has terrible taste. Except in women of course. Oh, and diamonds. He's good at buying the diamonds. Smart man. But back to me. I am totally addicted to homedecorating blogs and shows. I seriously could spend all day watching HGTV. This drives dh nuts. I am also an avid reader and a semi-health nut. Oh, and I love shoes. Seriously. You might have gathered that from the title of my blog. When I'm in the mood, I might show off a few of my favorite pair. I've got plenty.

FYI, For the sake of both privacy and because I have to use something, we'll call dh M, I'll be S and the boy can be C. It's like we work for MI-6. I'm sure I'll come up with something snappier later, but just getting my layout fixed the way I wanted it taxed my brain, so for now we'll just use initials.

On to C. He'll be 6 next month. I can't believe it. It seems like just yesterday we were bringing his tiny little self home. He's also wickedly smart. Too smart sometimes. We'll be homeschooling next yeat and he is so excited. He has a vocabulary that tested into the 15-18 year range. He never stops talking. Ever. He even talks in his sleep. He's exhuasting really. He's into dinosaurs, mummies, volcanoes, cars, pirates and Indiana Jones. When he grows up he wants to be an archeologist, paleontologist, Egyptologistst and a super hero. His superhero name is Super Quick, BTW, but he says I can call him 'SQ' for short. I adore him. Light of my life. All that jazz.

M is, well, annoyingly M. He's loud, goofy, funny and I love him. He's been in the miltary for 12 long years now. Only 8 to go. Unless he decides to stay for 30 (which is a strong possibility) and then there's 18 to go. Heaven help me. He studied music in college. That's an obviouse jump right? Music major to military. Yeah, I can totally see the connection. Actually we got married while we were still in college and were Po'. I was a semester from graduating, but he, the slacker who took a few classes as possible, still had a year to go. After I graduated, he decided to join the Army for a few years, get the money for college, get out and finish school. Haha! Joke's on me! I'm fine with it though. He loves being in the Army. Except for the whole deploying thing. Oh, and people always telling him what to do. He's gained a bunch of rank though in the last 12 years, so now he gets to tell soldiers what to do more than he gets told what to do. He enjoys his power. He's earned it though. What does he do in the military you might wonder? I don't really know. Isn't that funny? He has one of those jobs that can't be discussed. Can you imagine not knowing what your dh (or dw) does? It's weird, but saves me the tedium of listeing to him drone on and on about something that I would probably never understand anyway.

I work too. I've got to have money to buy all those fab shoes. I work in the gas and oil industry. That's right, I work for the evil corportation. And no, I don't get free gas. So, that's about it. Actually, there's a lot more going on, but I'll get to that later.