It Is What It Is

Disillusioned DIY: 4 Fun Pinterest Projects & 1 Craft To Avoid

I have a Pinterest problem. It's not like I really needed another reason to be on the Internet, but the universe still gave me one. It has made me want to cook a lot more, but my house is also starting to look like a bizarre "trash to treasure" experiment gone mad. 

Since I don't volunteer or help the community in other ways, I thought I could at least help someone out there from drowning in pins and boards. Here are a few of my successes and failures in the DIY realm*:

1. Dutch Oven Bread

I had a hard time believing this bread was actually going to turn out, but it did. I am now obsessed. I've made four loaves, and we've already eaten two. Admittedly, we like to add cheese at my house, but it's been quite the tasty adventure. The SO thinks I'm a domestic goddess, and my new Le Creuset oven (not a cheap investment, but worth it) looks really pretty in the kitchen even when I'm not using it. I am very pleased.

Wet And Wild

This past week, the SO and I, along with some family members made our annual pilgrimage to the Big Kahuna’s Water Park in Destin, Florida.

Not too much has changed since last year. The slides are pretty much the same, the food is still overpriced and everyone in charge is someone who I could have, in theory, birthed. The “ma’am” quotient seems to be up, but I’m trying not to dwell on it. It’s possible that my move to the full-on Spanx bathing suit has something to do with it.

(I love the suit, but there’s no liquid consumption when I’m in that one. Once the Spanx bathing suit goes on, it’s not coming off unless I’m done for the day. I learned that lesson after a particularly grueling incident in a public bathroom which may or may not have caused other patrons to believe I was a) wrestling with myself b) experiencing a seizure or c) being tortured to death by a large animal. I’m also pretty sure my waiting friends thought that I either had GI issues or an eating disorder considering how long I was absent. I like to get that suit in place, leave it and go through the inevitable undressing struggle later, in the privacy of my own home. Yes, there are breaks involved to catch my breath.)

I also saw a new sign this year. It’s possible that the sign was there last year, but I feel like I would have noticed it then, too.

Signage Fail

If it was not a restroom that I used in the California ferry station, well let's just say that management is not going to be happy with everything that's going on in there.

Against my better judgment, I'm going to quote Wikipedia here. "Quotation marks can also be used to indicate a different meaning of a word or phrase than the one typically associated with it and are often used to express irony."

Did I somehow wander into an ironic bathroom? What would an ironic bathroom even be?

I can only assume that the ferry station has had trouble with some of its clientele. I'm guessing they don't want anyone hanging out in the restroom or confusing it with a "rest room." However, having been in the restroom, I feel like anyone choosing to spend large amounts of time there, maybe reading a book or catching up on correspondence, has been punished enough.  

My First Drink

If you’ve been reading my blog for awhile, you might have picked up that I have some proficiency with alcoholic beverages. At one time, my shot vocabulary was more impressive that what I knew about geometry. (The ingredients for a surfer on acid? Yes. Which is one is the isosceles triangle? No.)

And while this might come as quite a surprise, it wasn’t always this way. I didn’t drink in high school – as in ever, at all.

I was terrified of getting in trouble and convinced that drinking would destroy my chances at going to a good college, but I decided that my senior trip to Europe would be a great time to have that long-awaited first drink. (College applications were done, and it was Europe. The legal trouble aspect was gone.)

Since I was in Italy, you’d think my logical choice would be wine. Even without wine, you’d think I’d go for a beer, but after having a sip of beer at 13, I decided that it was one of the most foul-tasting liquids I had ever put in my body and wanted nothing to do with it. (Nothing to do with it until I was a sophomore in college that is, but bygones.)

The Hidden Dangers Of Seasonal Paper Products

The summer I was 17, I took a job at a greeting card store. (I know, I know. As one co-worked once said, “How many jobs have you had?” I’ve never counted, but let’s just go with “a lot.”) I won’t name the store, but I will add that if you turned over one of our cards, you would not be greeted with the special gold crown that lets you know someone cares.

For a place that was supposed to specialize in spreading joy and sentiment, it was an unusually tense environment. Our manager cried a lot. I think it had to do with a boyfriend, but after a week, I wanted to spend most of my days crying, too.

I blame this weepiness on two unfortunate aspects of the job:

1. I actually had to spend two days inventorying Precious Moments figurines. Even if I liked Precious Moment figurines, going down a three page list and counting statuettes like “Bobby Fishes,” “Bobby and Ellen Down by the Lake” and “Susie’s Goodnight Prayer,” would nearly bore anyone to death.

Squatting: What All The Cool Kids Are Doing

There are many titles that I’ve strived for and continue to strive for in life, as well as titles I hope to achieve one day: good daughter, excellent student, editor, best-selling author, good partner, hot chick, best friend, good mom. The list goes on.

Squatter was never on that list, but that’s exactly what I became this past weekend in, of all places, Oxford, Mississippi.

The SO and I were traveling for a film festival. He needed to lead a meeting, so he left me with the primary responsibility of checking in to the hotel. (He might call this his first mistake.)

The guy behind the desk gave me the map of the hotel and directions as to how to drive around and park in front of our room. I took the keys and was off.

Two Dreams And My Top 10 Break-Up Songs

In my 32 years of television and movie viewing/life, I have come to want two things:

1. A montage set to music: Me falling in love, me moving up the career ladder, me getting a makeover. Any scenario would work really so long as my montage included me throwing papers into the air, twirling in an evening gown and smiling meaningfully at a member of the opposite sex.
2. A soundtrack. 

Neither of these wishes are real possibilities, what with me being a person leading a life and not the star of a movie, but it does seem that I have unwittingly given all of my break-ups soundtracks.

My Odd Local Movie Theater And Why The SO Will Never Take Me Back to Disney World

Not all that long ago, the SO took me on a trip to Disney World. Now, while I understand that “it’s the most magical place on earth” and “no one can wear a frown at Disney World,” I’m not exactly one of those people who appreciates the magic. (I'm pretty sure the latter isn't really a common phrase, but I feel like it could be.)

My own mother once said, “I think I had the only children in the world that never asked to go back to Disney World.”

I visited when I was nine. I told Mickey that he and I had the same birthday. He seemed pleased (at least, he clapped his over-sized white gloves). I went down Space Mountain, and I bought large Lady and the Tramp stuffed animals from our hotel. As far as I could tell, I was done. For life.

Today, for me, Disney World is a trifecta of things I don’t enjoy: lines/large groups of people, heights and loud noises.

Since new technology allows for rides where you actually just move around in a kind of virtual reality while your cart shifts from side to side, you can also add small spaces and motion sickness to the discomforts mentioned above.

Also, seeing how I feel about parades, you can understand why this might not necessarily be my ideal vacation.

I tried to buck up, but as the SO rarely fails to remind me, I didn’t do a very good job. I’m sorry that I don’t see the point to going down the same roller coaster twice from different sides (it’s just the mirror image!) and that I like to nap, but that’s just how I am.

El Matador

When we went to the beach week before last, we stayed at El Matador, a family favorite for the Mills from 1979-1986 or so. I hadn't been back since I was six years old. Luckily, nothing about El Matador had changed. But, looking at this picture my mom sent me this morning, you can see that a few other things have. (I'm on the right in the cool sunglasses.)

Big Kahunas

Last week, I went to the beach. I love the beach, and I also happen to have a certain fondness for water parks.

Now, some people seem to find this strange. I’ve heard a lot of “you went to a water park without kids?” and “why?” since the end of the trip.

I think the first thing I need to explain is that I will do just about anything for a lazy river. I have looked into joining a gym that will cost me $45/month not because I would ever touch an elliptical or a treadmill, but because the facility houses an indoor lazy river.

Yes, I am considering paying an annual fee of $540 just for the privilege of year-round lazy river access.