I've Made a Breakthrough

Today was the yardsale.

Scheduled from 8am-12pm, the first people showed up at 6:53am. Good thing I was up. We sold almost everything we had. Seriously. We were really excited. Kaz and I sat in little chairs and spent the morning in regular yardsale fashion. We had a great time. It was fun to listen to him talk to the Spanish-speaking shoppers and answer questions. The best was when he turned to me to ask a question... in Spanish. Yeah, I don't speak Spanish. He does that at his parents' house too when Japanese is the main language spoken. I don't speak Japanese either.

We made about three times more than we thought we would, and the only awkward exchange was with a woman who wanted a container full of yarn for $0.25 even though I asked for $1.00. I dropped to $0.50 and she still wouldn't budge. She didn't end up buying, but... we think she sent her friend to buy it. They had the same it's-for-a-lady-at-church-who-knits-things-for-shut-ins story. I think that's a beautiful thing, to spend time ministering to people who are forgotten. But really, tagteaming over a quarter? A little nutty. And it was a lot of great yarn! Whatever. I'm over it...

Here's the breakthrough. Kaz and I loaded up the car with the items we had left and IMMEDIATELY drove to Goodwill to donate what didn't sell. Get out. I had stuff in this yardsale leftover from one we had three years ago. I made a vow this time though to not let any of it back in the house. I didn't follow through totally; the index card holder will probably come in handy eventually. But it's all gone! All the VHS tapes and tiny window blinds and sad looking dresses I wore in 8th grade. All gone. This is a big. I'm proud of myself.


Now I'll have to avoid the temptation of going yardsaling next weekend and doing the junk fill-up again. Chasing my tail, man...

Drumroll, Please...

It's time!

My new cooking class schedule is up! And my site looks a little different! And I'm really excited about teaching new stuff! And I hope you check it out!

Yay FOOD!

Cha-Ching!

See anything you want?

I didn't think I had enough to participate in this weekend's neighborhood yard sale. After two dozen sweaty trips up and down the stairs, I think I might have been wrong.

Do you think anyone will be interested in VHS tapes? That's a puzzler...

Grab a Good Thing

I hate dusting. HATE IT. But I found a way for the hate to turn into mild dislike.

Please try Pledge Grab-It dry cloths. They're amazing. I used one (ONE!) to dust a friend's house the other day, and I made it through the entire house (and a good-sized two-story) with one cloth, and it picked up everything I touched without leaving it on the bedpost of the next room. I have one of those microfiber mits that I've used the last few months, and it does a pretty good job. Sadly, pretty good doesn't cut it when awesome is available.

So go ahead, friends. Buy a pack. It's not a risk if someone else tells you they're great.

Oh, and if you're in the market for a house or know someone who is, my friend's house is for sale and not at all dusty.

http://www.coldwellbanker.com/servlet/PropertyListing?action=detail&ComColdwellbankerDataProperty_id=13387358&page=property

My Katie Holmes Face

How great is this?!?! Wanna play? You know you do. You can do a morph, see what celebrities you look like, see what celebrities your kids look like... so many great options. Just wanted to share the fun. Okay, I'm going to go morph into Queen Latifah now. Yep, she and I have 71% similar features. Go figure.

And just for you, Emily, Martina McBride didn't make the cut. I know, right?

MyHeritage: Celebrity Morph - Family reunion - Draw family tree

Classically Challenged

Today I'm doing something I've never done before - I'm working at Furniture Market.

I'm sitting at a desk, taking business cards from people rolling their luggage from showroom to showroom, trying to identify the different accents, and trying even harder to figure out what state MT is. (I had to look it up when the people left my desk - Montana.)

It's not a bad gig. The people are really nice, the coffee is good, and I have my laptop to play with.

Here's the thing. I feel DECIDEDLY less fashionable than these people. These furniture buyers are coming from all over... New York, California, Colorado... and most of them are dressed quite well. One girl just walked by me in the cutest little tunic that I've ever seen. Actually, I've never seen it. I guess it's a new fashion that hasn't hit Target yet.

I usually do a pretty good job of not getting freaked out by my "classic" fashion sense, aka I'm wearing a shirt I bought in high school. But, oh my goodness, I'm starting to feel a little freaked out that right now I'm wearing a shirt I bought in high school! My mom says that means I'm a good shopper, that I choose things that are timeless. But I don't feel timeless. I feel boring and a little faded. I don't think my shirt has holes, but I can't be entirely sure. And the jeans I'm wearing are the only ones I own without a hole or frayed bottoms. It's slightly awkward.

Holy cow, will someone PLEASE take me shopping?

Distractions

I'm a very VERY unhappy Tarheel right now.

My team is down by 17 points at halftime to stupid Kansas. I seriously am having chest pains. This performance is embarrassing.

Kaz and I had a conversation a few days ago about how important it was to us to have our kids like sports. We don't have any yet, so we can totally imagine these things. We looked at taste in friends, taste in food, taste in music, or taste in sports. Our lists were slightly different. Of course friends was first. I would so much rather my kids make good choices in their friends and only eat blue-box mac'n'cheese and listen to Daniel Powter while watching old people do pairs' figure skating.

But oh my goodness. A kid without a pallette? A kid who doesn't appreciate songwriters? A kid who doesn't love March Madness? That's tough. You know, I realize these words really mean nothing. I'm just trying to distract myself from this game. And for the record, I'm totally going to love my kids whatever they're into... unless it's puppy-killing or Jessica Simpson.

Smells Like Teen Something

I just witnessed something rather disturbing.

I flipped on Ellen while I was hanging out in my bedroom, and the Jonas Brothers were performing. Now, for those of you unfamiliar with the Jonas Brothers, let me fill you in (on the tidbits of info I just off Wikipedia).






There are three Jonas brothers... well, actually four, but the fourth doesn't want to be in the band. Tsk tsk. They have quickly risen to the top of Teen Girl World with their ballads and cute? looks and their friendship with Miley Cyrus on Hannah Montana. Middle brother, Joe (I think he's the one in the middle), has a balance problem; he's taken a couple of hospital-requiring spills during performances in the last few months, and younger brother, Nick (on the left), has diabetes. Not sure why Wiki wanted us to know that. They have a show set to debut on the Disney Channel soon called J.O.N.A.S. (Junior Operatives Networking As Spies) where they play - you guessed it! - undercover spy kids. How long did it take the network execs to come up with that one? And they've done a cover of the song "Poor Unfortunate Souls" from The Little Mermaid. That's almost as bad as hearing a Weepies song on Laguna Beach. (Okay, my mom is TOTALLY lost right now.)

So back to Ellen. They're performing on this huge outdoor stage in Orlando, and there are TONS and TONS of little adolescent girls screaming their faces off for these boys. Here's what disturbed me. The camera panned across the front row of these girls just crammed in like... I don't know... something worse than sardines, and one girl (you ready?) had her eyes closed and her hands raised like she was in church. The girl beside her was singing and waving her hands and crying like that Sanjaya girl last season on Idol. The next one was reaching out as far as she could to get as close as possible to these boys, even though whatever Jonas brother was in front was a good fifty feet away. I mean straining with all her might; she looked pained.

Deep breath, Kendra. I just don't know how I feel about this. Wait, yes I do. I feel sick. I remember being fifteen.



I loved Hanson. I cut out pictures of Brad Pitt and Dean Cain (yes, Dean Cain... hot in the Lois and Clark days) and put them in a little notebook. I took a picture of the TV when I was watching The Outsiders (I'm old school) just so I could always have Rob Lowe with me. All I got was a picture of the flash glaring on the screen. How did we live before the Internet? But I don't remember worshipping these people. Maybe I did. It was a long time ago. But it really makes me sad to see these little girls put so much emotion into something that's so fading.

The Jonas Brothers will be hairy and lumpy and not-so-nasally in no time, and there's no way that they can take every one of those girls to their next middle school dance, even if there are three of them. I just feel sorry for these girls. I guess I'm naive. I want them to love books and ponies and board games and making muffins with their moms and giving each other makeovers with old blue eyeshadow and a crimper. Now they all have cell phones and booty shorts and boyfriends and attitudes. Okay, not all of them. I realize I'm disparaging every female under the age of sixteen with this diatribe, but I don't mean to. I just wish things were the way they used to be.


Did I just say that? I guess that clinches it; I'm officially old. And the running count for pop culture references in this post: 15.