I didn't get murdered!

Thanks to all of you who gave me the excellent advice and encouragement for my camping trip last weekend. I actually had a great time, and I didn't even drink any alcohol (I had to keep my senses sharp in the event of murderers and BEARS, which I totally forgot about). I did get painfully cold at night and suffered from lack of pillow, but it was overshadowed by the beautiful scenery, fresh air and delicious food prepared by my sister-in-law, who is the Martha Stewart of camping (who knew?!).

That's a real photo of MS camping. She has a recipe for campfire hot dogs. I'm not even kidding.

I have basically ignored the mountains for most of the 15 years I have lived here because every time I go up, it's increasingly crowded, commercial and pricey, and that's not fun. Now I realize that I just haven't been going to the right places. Lord knows that I will never be the type to strap slick boards on my feet and plunge down a snowy mountain in the freezing cold, but hiking here in the warm sunshine with the fam and coming back to eat a baloney sandwich* and cherries? I can do that.

Here's one quick story: Our whole group hiked for 3 miles to the most beautiful panoramic view in the whole wide world. It was also possible to be a cheater and drive to this beautiful panoramic view, which is how we ran into a group of old people there. They were very sweet and chatty and one of the old men offered to take our picture. Now this is when you're thinking that the old person somehow fucks up our camera or our photo. Nope. He does a fantastic job, and as soon as he gives the camera back to me, my 6 year old announces "Ladies and gentlemen! Let's give a big hand to the OLD PEOPLE for taking our picture!"

Thank God old people can't hear.

I will leave you with a true and authentic picture of Frank's butt. Drink it up, ladies and gay dudes, because I am sure that I will be forced to take it down once he realizes that it's up.


*It's probably been 20 years since I've had a baloney sandwich, and I'd just like to report that it was awesome.

*UPDATE* Due to overwhelming positive response, Frank has requested that his money shot NOT be removed.

Voila, bitches!

Like many newer houses, ours has a formal living room right off of the foyer. Why do builders insist upon persevering with the antiquated concept of a formal living room? Haven't they seen Cribs? Even big celebs who furnish these rooms in high style and entertain a lot readily admit "no one ever goes in here." Give me the extra square footage as another bedroom, or tack it onto the family room or kitchen. I don't need a PARLOR, for God's sake!

Because I am resentful of this room, I have not put a lot of thought into it. It contains a mishmash of furniture that doesn't fit anywhere else in the house. The formal living room is my red-headed stepchild (so to speak; I would actually treat a red-headed stepchild with great love and affection because I think red-headed children are adorable). Here's is an example of how the formal living room sucks:


A frumpy slipcovered Pottery Barn couch that looks like ass and is used by my children primarily as a trampoline. When my sister came to visit last weekend, she basically told me that I needed to get over my feelings for this room and treat it with some respect because it is the first thing people see when my front door is opened. I was all "can't you see I've TRIED? See that tropical pillow that doesn't match the couch or the room or anything else in the house?"

She insisted on taking the slipcover off, and this happened:

This clean-lined lovely was hiding underneath. Who knew?! It's exactly the couch I would have wanted for this room and it was totally free.*

I love it when stuff like this happens.



*Now I just need $3k to get one seat cushion (instead of the three it came with), recover it in a neutral linen or velvet, and then slap some graphic pillows on there. Luckily, I have recently received several emails from a Kenyan gentleman informing me that I have inherited $800,000 "that is not drug money." What perfect timing! I'm sure I can spare $3000 and maybe even a little more to spruce up the rest of my parlor. Stay tuned!

Two posts in a row that do not mention reality tv

It must be some sort of record for me. Anyhow.

How much would you pay for this house?


Four bedrooms, three bathrooms, 2800 square feet.

I happen to know that it's located on a road paved with red brick and sits among other beautiful old houses with mature yards. If you cut through the back yard and cross a two lane street, you would be on a golf course with lots of beautiful old trees. Right now, this neighborhood has a wonderful scent--fresh and springy and green.


The house could use a little updating, but not much.

And you could live just up the street from my mama and about a mile from the awesome Sucker for Marketing.

This house, in a comparable neighborhood in Denver, would cost at least $2 mill--but this house, located in my small-ish midwestern hometown is $319,000. Holy Jeebus. Doesn't it kind of make you want to pack up and move in and slow down? Me too. Dude, I've already mentally repainted that hallway and some of that paneling as well as bought some new furniture for that living room.

But no one tell my mama that.*

P.S. Don't forget Real Housewives of NYC tonight (couldn't resist).


*Because I'm staying put. I am a small town girl, but I love all that the big city has to offer--sports, shopping, drugs, culture, hookers, etc. Can't leave all that behind.

Great News!

I'm a cougar!

My husband and I went out for dinner with friends last weekend, and he was the last to order a drink. He was carded. That's right. My 36 year old husband, who is a mere 2 months younger than I, looks as though he might not be 21! Lest you think he dresses like a kid--he does not. The bastard just happens to have fantastic skin and a full head of hair.

So, I am psyched. If anyone wants to meet at Cool River (gross Denver pick-up bar) for happy hour later, let me know! I'll be the haggard, sloppy-drunk one on the dance floor in the too short skirt. Wooo!

Valentine's Day Press Release

Cutting edge shovel art by SGM

FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE

New Snow Artist Freezes Art World

Denver, Colorado - This winter, the front walk of a Denver home has been transformed into a major outdoor art exhibit. Scraping the Surface, sponsored by Target, is the brainchild of snow artist SGM, a self-taught shoveler and conceptual artist.

Her first work, entitled Shove It Up Your Heart (pictured above), is full of moxie and mojo, and took her almost 3 seconds to complete. The piece turned into performance art when the artist's children stomped on it 2 minutes later.

"It is beyond powerful," marveled leading art critic Del Mitchell, who also happens to be SGM's across the street neighbor. "The children metaphorically crushed the artist's heart by growing older and losing their innocence while simultaneously acting childish. Also, packing the snow like that forced SGM to get out her scraping tool, which she despises. Her annoyance adds even more depth to the piece."

A local art student who happened upon the exhibit said he was "blown away" by the avant-garde nature of SGM's work. William "Shady" Morris, age 21, wiped a tear from his eye as he spoke. "Her shoveling goes against common wisdom; it's all crooked and spotty, but that's what's so moving. It's so human."

SGM's work is not without controversy. Another critic, next door neighbor Jenny Guerrero, is not so impressed: "Oh, she's calling herself SGM now? I suppose she's going to feign a British accent next. I find her work to be uninspiring, especially when she throws snow onto my cleared sidewalk. It's so . . . rude."

SGM has never let unfavorable opinions affect her work, and it is this boldness that makes her art so ground-breaking. "My methods are unorthodox, and some people cannot move beyond that. They see me working for hours with my shovel and think that I'm just screwing around out here in the cold. What they don't realize is that I'm forging a path, both literally and figuratively, for the common man--pizza delivery people in particular."

Expect SGM's work to evolve as more snow falls. The exhibit opened yesterday and will run until the snow melts, which will probably be sometime in June because SGM's house faces north. For more information, please comment and the artist or her agent will respond.

Shopping Spree

I hate cold weather. And snow. There is lots of both here in Denver and I am OVER IT. Usually when the weather is dreary, I find happiness in spending money and acquiring things that I don't need. However, I am on a spending hiatus (thanks to A Cup of Jo for the dignified term which replaces "stop buying so much crap"), so there will be no shopping. After the week I've had, I really feel the need to use (if you watch Celebrity Rehab, you know what I mean); please join me on a brief virtual shopping trip.

First purchase:

I'm trying to cut back on my magazines so I didn't take Margaret Russell up on her generous subscription offer. It hurts me, deep inside, to not have Elle Decor in my mailbox every month, and I may have to give up my design blogger status without it.

Then, just for fun, I'd get this and send it overnight to Lauren Conrad:


She'd call me and say "oh my God. What the hell is she wearing? Are those multi-sized mirrors on her dress?" and I'd say "I know! What's up with the flesh colored band around her waist? I can't stop looking at her beauty pageant hair and freaky expression! And the background color--how unappealing. Lauren, did you design this cover? Because the person who did hates Kristin Cavallari with the intensity of 1000 suns!" Then we'd have a big laugh (although I'm not sure that Lauren is capable of more than a closed-mouth smile) and talk some shit about Heidi's new video and Spencer's amazing ability to become more and more creepy.

But for now I'm still shopping. I'd buy some lipstick, because that is a guaranteed pick-me-up:

MAC 'Slimshine' Lipstick, don't know what color, but I'd wear it

Ah, I'm feeling better already; nothing makes my heart pitter-patter like a new tube of lipstick. Gloss could never really do that for me.

Next stop, shoes, for my one big splurge:

Marc by Marc Jacobs Hh two tone Mary Janes, $473

God, I think these are gorgeous. I'd even wear them out of the store, just like kids do, and later tell my husband that I got them on the sale rack at DSW.

My final purchase:

A snowblower. What a dream! If there is snow during the week, I am usually the shoveler because my husband leaves for work at 6 a.m. If ever you need a good laugh, come on over to my house after a snowstorm. I'll set you up in front of the bay window with some hot chocolate and you can watch me shovel our short driveway and small stretch of sidewalk for an insane amount of time. When I'm finished, it will look the the work of a blind person with two broken arms.


Well, that actually felt pretty good. I'm a simple woman; magazines, lipstick, shoes and an occasional piece of power equipment are all it really takes to satisfy me. Thankfully, a Kit Kat Blizzard from Dairy Queen and Keeping Up with the Kardashians have that same effect, and I'm going to partake in that kind of cheap fix right now.

Hope you have a fulfilling weekend too!

For your own good, put down any food you might be eating

I was going to do this big ol' post on Celebrity Rehab and how repulsively awesome it is, but then life intervened.

My children and I went out to eat tonight with some of my friends and their kids. We have some weird food issues here at chez SGM, and my kids don't eat much sugar or dairy. So tonight, all of the other kids were getting ice cream sundaes. Everyone orders the small ones, except for me. I order the kid-sized ones because I assume that they'd be extra-small, and my kids won't eat much anyway. Totally wrong on both counts. The "kids" size ice cream sundae comes in a grande cup, filled to the brim. WTF, Applebee's?

So I give my 3 year old her strawberry ice cream sundae, thinking that she will stop after a few bites. She's always a good little self-regulator. But then I look over after about 2 minutes and she has eaten pretty much the entire thing. She is a tiny, petite girl with a nasty ol' cheeseburger already in her tummy and I become filled with dread. I know what's coming.

A few minutes later, she does the expected. She barfs. Not her entire meal, just fountains of pink ice cream. And then the little girl across from her sees this and starts barfing too, a simple chain reaction. Like that scene in Stand By Me. I laugh helplessly at the awfulness of it all, and my other friend with the throwing up kid starts laughing, and our kids are crying. And I just don't know how I'm going to make it to my car, which is far away, and it's about 2 degrees out, and my coat and hers are covered in pink vomit. Plus I have a 6 year old who is running around like a chicken (literally, "bawk bawk" and all), high as a kite on sugar.

I have good friends. They're all trying to help clean up, which mortifies me. So I am holding my pukey kid, trying to clean so my friends won't do it. They finally convince me to just leave and on my way out the door I yell "Give her a big tip! $100! I'll pay you back! I am so sorrrrrrrrrrrrrrrry!"

By the time we run through freaking Antarctica (props to my 6 year old who actually kept up with me) and arrive at our car, my 3 year old has totally recovered and is recounting her night: "I hate barfing! I barfed so much in there! That scared me so much! Can I have a snack when we get home? I am so cold! I hate barfing!"

Lordy be. Now everyone is in bed, and I am headed that way too. My take on Celebrity Rehab will just have to wait, but try to catch it tomorrow night on VH1 because some major shiz is about to go down. I am rubbing my hands in anticipation; it's going to be that good.

See you tomorrow!

Thanks to HoldThatTiger for the photo

Brushes with Fame (aka Been Tagged)

Paloma at La Dolce Vita tagged me and gave me the choice of listing 7 weird things about myself or 7 famous people that I've met. I did the 7 Weird Things a few months ago, so I've been trying to think of famous people that I've met. I only have 5. But because I'm the boss of this blog, I am going to give you the 5, and the remaining 2 will be famous people that I could have met but did not because I am stupid.

Here we go!

1. Marky Mark. Talked my way backstage at a concert and he rapped my name.

2. Adam Sandler. He came to my college to do stand-up. After the show, my friend and I asked him for his autograph and proceeded to creepily stalk him for the rest of the night.


3. Atallah Shabaz (Malcolm X's daughter). I was her driver when she came to my college in the early 90s and this woman was one of the most dignified and gracious people I've ever met. After she gave this really moving speech, people were coming up to her and crying and she was so lovely and kind to everyone. Then she and her assistant hopped in my beater of a car and we went to Village Inn to eat pancakes. Truly an amazing and down-to-earth person.

4. Pat Monahan (lead singer of Train). This was just a few months ago. Not terribly into Train, but he was really nice.

5. Julie Ashton. What? You haven't heard of her? Haven't you seen Cock Loving Moms or Hot Cherry Pies 3? I'd post a picture of her, but they're all a bit NSFW. I met her at a party several years ago and had to be told who she was (by my husband, who was all "she wants me so baaaaaaaaad").

6. An old boyfriend of mine is pals with Paul Rudd. They were in the same fraternity pledge class. Yep. In the mid-90s, old boyfriend and Paul would get together in Kansas City over the holidays. Not me. I was in Denver doing important things, like vacuuming and flossing my teeth.

7. Also in the mid-90s, my friend Peter asked me to come with him to hang out with some friends from home, who were in this band. "No thanks," I replied, "I'd rather sit at home and get the latest on OJ's trial" (or something lame like that). So I missed out on meeting Dave Mathews et al.

That's it. Not going to tag anyone else right now because it's late and . . . I'm lazy. Happy Monday!


*Thanks to etsy's McYarnpants (love that name!) for the photo of the gift tags.

Even more superficial judging

I don't judge a person by his or her taste in music. Our attachment to music, especially bad music, can often be sentimental; for example, you were listening to Just a Gigolo by David Lee Roth when your high school crush acknowledged your existence with a "hey, are you going to eat those hushpuppies?" so DLR is on your ipod. Conversely, Fight for Your Right by the Beastie Boys may make you feel hot with embarrassment because it reminds you of the time you drove past your high school boyfriend's house only to see him in the front yard, smashed up against a car, making out with a girl named Bernadette. Not that that happened to me. But this song will never appear on my ipod.

So if you have bad music on your ipod, it's no big deal. Dude, I have 3 John Mayer cds on my ipod. I have no room to judge anyone on the music front.

Lest you think I am getting all deep on you, I do judge people by books. In fact, it is my favorite judging method, for it's very efficient. If your favorite book is Bridges of Madison County, we must part ways immediately. We will simply not get along if this sort of thing makes your heart pound. As for The Notebook (not the movie--I haven't seen the movie and I know many of you have free-passed Ryan Gosling based on this movie) we can be friends, but I'll get weird on you when you talk about how much you loved it.

God help you if you give me The Saving Graces and say "you're really going to love this!" because I will take it as a personal insult. You're just better off to admit that you have never read a book at all, as Posh and my brother-in-law have done, and I respect that kind of honesty.

Do you judge people by music or books? What kind of music and which books?


Thanks to Kate O'Connor for this funny hanky photo found via My Love for You Is a Stampede of Wild Horses