Monday, October 31, 2005

The Takeover

Friends,

I know I said I loved TypePad. And during my ever so brief fling with the trial, I liked it all right but the more I played around with it the more I felt the loss of control.

After some searching and playing and cursing, I'm pleased to announce:

I've found my new lover.

I'm moving to www.sugaredharpy.com permanently.

To hear all about what platform I'm using and my host, you can read all about it here.

I'll be importing my Blogger blogs over there in due time. But the biggest change, the CHANGE YOU NEED TO KNOW ABOUT, is that all my new posts will be over there. Shortly, I'll put up a simply post redirecting people to the new site.

Love,
Melissa

Sunday, October 30, 2005

WordPress Whore

Turns out Typepad has its limits, but WordPress? Ah, she is free and beautiful and limitless.

Check her out Here.

After Fucking Typepad All Night Long,

I orgasmed this: Sugared Harpy.

Like a newly broken virgin on her prom night, I've fallen in love. That masthead picture, with the trees? That's part of a picture I took of a gorgeous, but mangled tree at Mike's family farm. HOW COOL IS THAT? Typepad is soooo much easier than Blogger to use and modify without knowing html codes. Also, my god, it's beautiful. I still have some things I need to work out, but I am loving it.

Check it out. Tell me what you think, please.

Behold, It is Done

Friends, in a vodka punch-inspired decision, I have changed the blog to Sugared Harpy.

Based on the drunken opinions of the Penny Candy ladies and the man I smooch most often, I went with it. I think the new name is a better fit and sounds much, much less like a Cheryl-ism (which tends to involve fancy geneological rants, princess crowns, and witches).

Also, I'm going to be testing out a Typepad account in the next few months. If I dig it, I may move the whole kit and caboodle over there. I will still be using this space for all my posts, but I want to play with the Typepad features since I get 90 free days using the promotional code, "movable." But note, I've already registered www.sugaredharpy.com. Shazam!

Saturday, October 29, 2005

In Which I Shamelessly Fish for Feedback

In the great search for a new name for this blog, I'd like to put another name to the vote. Someday, I swear I will stop and get on with it already.

What do you all think of "Sugared Harpy"?

I like it. I think it's a fairly good description of me since I tend to be this sugary-sweet person with a biting, snarky attitude.

From Dictionary.com (with whom I make out with several times a day in a luscious threesome along with the ever sexy WordReference.com):

Sugared: Sweetheart - Used as a term of endearment; To coat, cover, or sweeten with sugar; To make less distasteful or more appealing.

Harpy: a malicious fierce-tempered woman [syn: vixen, hellcat];

Eh?

Friday, October 28, 2005

CAPTURED!

Currently being held for ransom at the Evening Star household:

1 (one) 9 x 13 pan
1 (one) plastic lid

These items will be held until all demands, especially those involving gin, are met.

Be warned! The brownies did not survive the first night in captivity.

Family isn't about whose blood you have. It's about who you care about.

Thank you, Mike.

Thursday, October 27, 2005

Elimination Communication - NOT

People, I try very, very hard to figure out a certain woman in my life. Underneath she's fabulous and strong and wonderful. However, on top of that sits the judgmental, bitter, control-freak victim I must deal with all the time.

With the knowledge that Mike and I are going to try to conceive in - hmmm....let me check my ticker - one year, two months, three weeks, and one day, I sometimes try to figure out what parenting style she approves for us.

No, her approval is not required. We obviously parented two children already, with some success it would seem. But, I'm curious to know what will be judged and what will be smiled upon when there's a new baby. With my two kids, my parenting style was established before she came on the scene. With a new baby, she'll be there from the beginning and her opinion will affect our lives. Either she will judge or bless our parenting style, but it will be done out loud. At Christmas. Or, Thankgiving. Or, July. But it will be done.

Thus far, she has disapproved of the nightly (good! imported!) beers the boys need to sleep and the whippings (at the permanent flogging post set up in the backyard) we give when they anger us.

So, sometimes when I hear of something in parenting I've never heard of, I mention it to her. Let's call it casting a wide net to see what I catch. Today, I learned of elimination communication (EC).

Waaah, you say?

I learned of this over at the Leery Polyp. Okay, elimination communication is a way of handling a baby's potty times without diapers by parents learning how to read their baby's signals and then taking them to a toilet or container to go. The big idea is that if you never teach your kids that their clothes are a toilet, they won't have any issues when potty training. Also, you cut down on the diapers you use, get rid of a smelly diaper pail, and the constant mess of wiping poo of your baby's bottom.

Now, part of this intriques me. I'm okay with less diapers in a landfill and in my house. I'm okay with less diaper rash and so on. And it totally flies with attachment parenting, which I mostly like and which this woman I'm discussing wholeheartedly endorses. Even though I'm not exactly interested in doing this since, well, diapering seems so much easier and I'm a lazy bastard, I use my mental record of her blessed parenting techniques and assume she's all for it. I think she will pour sunshine from her lips about the loving way you and your baby communicate together and the respect you give your child when you don't make them sit in their own feces and so on.

Did you see that? See me trying to be funny and cute and think I can figure her out? Ha! Ha. ha. ha. Bleh.

When I mention elimination communication, I get a screwed up face and a list of no, no, and nos a mile long.

This pregnancy and baby thing is going to be a fucking blast.

Monday, October 24, 2005

Although, Rice Krispy Treats are still considered a Zero Calorie Food around here.

Behold, another ticker.


Linfart

Happy Birthday to you,
Happy Birthday to you,
Happy Birthday dear Lindy, my little baby sister who smells like wet feet and laughs out loud at my sad jokes and makes everyone near and dear to her smile like a new sun after a hard winter and loves little baby kittens and would never ever hurt a damn soul even when she really really should and who I love more than anything and who I would never ever slap in the eye agaaainnnnn,
Happy Birthday to you!

I love you sweetie. You rock harder than Anthrax ever did.

Sunday, October 23, 2005

Lilypie

I loves me some Lilypie.com; ergo, I've changed my psycho baby ticker.

NB: I can't wait until you all are subjected to my menstrual/ovulation cycle, complete with little bumblebees and butterflies. Under no fucking circumstances will the phrase, "baby dust," be deemed acceptable. Also, I will refuse to listen to anyone who tells me I'll conceive if only I could just "relax."


I'm just like every modern woman trying to have it all. I only wish I had more time to seek out the dark forces and join their hellish crusade.

Reminded:

I adore the Addams Family. I love the original cartoon and show as much as I love the remakes. Whatever, I like the remakes better. Deliciously darker.

Additionally, I want to be part Morticia, part Wednesday when I grow up.

Thursday, October 20, 2005

Stuck in Godforsaken Missouri

As we all know, I adore my work. My work, here, in St. Louis. But I need to go somewhere soon.

I don't care if any of you come with me, I'm happy traveling alone. I just need that change of pace every so often and my travel bug competes with my bejesus for top billing. Right now, the travel bug is winning. I need to go somewhere for my own sanity and for the safekeeping of those around me. I need to travel somewhere soon.

Somewhere smothered in life I don't see every day. Somewhere with architecture and paintings I've only seen in books. I don't need to go anywhere for very long, just a few days on a weekend is perfectly fine.

St. Petersburg calls my name. Istanbul sings to me in my sleep. The Loire Valley is good. Florence is better. Prague makes me drool.

But, I'll totally take Chicago about now.

Wednesday, October 19, 2005

Dammit.

I tried, people. I tried to change the look of the site. I like this one, but color is nice sometimes. It was a nice blue, too. Maybe a little too springy blue, but a change from glaring white.

But, I just couldn't figure out how to add in all my sidebar shit (that yes, I should really think about paring down) into the new design.

I've tried to change the title of the blog and failed. I tried to change the look and failed.

But, I don't smell like elderberries! Hooray!!

*My mother, she doesn't smell like elderberries either. Natural Light with a hint of tinny can smell, yes. Elderberries, not so much.

Tuesday, October 18, 2005

This Man Will Die in Twelve Minutes. Yaaaay Jesus!

There is this new commercial running in town for a local Assembly of God. It opens with a life-insurance-y looking scene. The booming voice comes in,

"This man will die in twelve minutes."

It goes on to show his lovely family. His lovely African American family (although I know this church is a whitey, white church, but hey, I guess good effort). They show the doomed man's kids, his gorgeous wife, his lovely home. It mentions how he has everything planned out, even his life insurance.

To which I go, whaaaaah?? Not a life insurance commercial? Mmmmkay.

It repeats, "This man will die in twelve minutes." Now, I'm thinking this commercial is SUCH a fucking downer.

Then, "But, he didn't plan for his afterlife."

Scene breaks to the Assembly of God's address and phone number.

Soooo, you give me a scare tactic and think I'll run screaming to Jesus and you people? You people who give me a man destined for eternal damnation in twelve minutes? You - yes you, this exact church, location and all - who shunned my brother-in-law and his bride the moment they were married because they went on a honeymoon and could not devote every weekday to you like they had for years? You, who sent them packing to a new church because of your lack of reason? You, who think that kids getting candy on Halloween is celebrating Satan? You, who only think that people should come to church for your paltry peace of mind that you "tried"?

You are not God's people. You are heathens in sheep's clothing and you are far too homely to pull that look off.

I fart in your general direction. My God thinks that's funny.

Monday, October 17, 2005

Bean Feast

Thank you ladies for a fun Saturday night! Even as the dutiful driver of the party minivan, you people crack my shit up.

Also, that is the last I want to hear of butt sex and Lindy. The last of it, I tell you.

Friday, October 14, 2005

My Whole Day at Work Summed Up in Three Words

Toile.
Bois.
Bois.
Toile.
Bois.
Toile.
Toile.
Toile.
Toile.
Bois.
Toile.
Bois.
Bois.
Bois.
Toile.
Bois.
Toile.
Toile.
Bois.
Ardoise!!!!

(Summary: finding a new painting for my project after looking through countless catalogues. Priceless.)

Tuesday, October 11, 2005

She Surprised Our Housekeeper!

If that line is ever in a post, you have too much money. Period.

Oh, you'd like some context?

I recently found this other blog, the blog of a woman who wanted something exciting in her life, something new. She called it, Baby. So, she went out to China and got one. I am positive she loves this Baby, but I wonder if it's like a big dress up dolly pet to her instead of a daughter. Baby only wears big, pouffy dresses and pink headbands. The Baby, she is beautiful. But mama, takes a lot of weird pictures holding Baby whilst wearing perfect make up and having perfectly coiffed hair. It's weird. It creeps me out. It just feels like, "Hmmmm, you know honey, I'm bored of shopping this week. Let's go get us a pet! No! Something that wears dresses! And little shoes! A baby! Let's get a baby!"

They named Baby before they ever saw her. That is weird to me. They picked a name and no matter what that child's real name was, they supplanted it without ever knowing her.

I am, however, totally jealous of Baby's bedroom.

Here , read it for yourselves. Mostly, I'm really nice. Mostly. But, am I just being bitchy and judgy? Because I do that. Sometimes.

In Other News

I have made a new contact whose first name is that of a Mexican food. I can't laugh at this, as this is actually an important person in the museum world, and I am a peon who hopes to visit their place someday and pray for their continued assistance in my project. And this person is so nice and accomodating, that I just can't laugh at this name.

But I giggle, oh I giggle, sometimes out loud in the library, with each and every email I receive.

Introducting Christine, the Blogger

My friend Christine, sometimes known as Maisy, has joined our ranks as a blogger.

Check out her fabulousness at Mama Drama, HERE.

Saturday, October 08, 2005

Selling Out, Ha!

I wish I were selling out, but really, I'm just making a lame attempt. You may have noticed I've put ads up on the site. Small, text-only ads that don't scream at my readers, okay reader, and don't scare the bejesus out of me. Because, we all know the way my bejesus behaves when he's out.

Enjoy, click on zee ads and buy zee tings. It makes my bejesus happy.

Wednesday, October 05, 2005

Open Letter to Girl Who Writes Her Art History Paper About Jesus Instead of Art

Dear Lovely Student,

I understand that you love Jesus. Honey, we all love Jesus. Jesus is swell. Jesus is my homeboy copilot life partner, too.

However, when your lovely professor asks for a formal analysis paper of an artwork, please do not hand in a three-page manifesto on your undying love for Jesus.

Sincerely,

Your lovely professor

Monday, October 03, 2005

Just call me Shoemaker, or Levy

Observations from today:

1) My credit card resting on the passenger seat of my car, exposed and alone, after being parked in the street nearish our crazy neighbors house.

2) Said crazy neighbors are ahem, ready for Halloween. I will have pictures of this phenomena, as soon as any damn one of them is not in their front yard hollering at their children where they may see me taking yet another round of pictures of their house.

3) A woman behind me at a red light shaking her fist and screaming. I am also proud to notice her mouthing the words, "Move you fucking bitch." I checked to make sure that yes, indeed there were eight cars ahead of me and yes, indeed the light was red. I have been wrong before.

4) Truck parked near mine in the school's parking lot with zip-tied horns to their front end. No, they did not have a complete front end as the whole of it below the horns was missing. Big fat texas longhorn horns. With Missouri plates. Poseur.

5) Email from my friend Megan had the funniest line in history. From the Onion, "He was the tooliest tool that ever did tool."

6) Apparently, today is women-and-nine-children grocery shopping day. As a woman who shops with kids, part of me feels for them. The other part is mouthing the words, "Move you fucking bitch."

7) Brett's toybox contains toys, pens, blankets, socks, trash, hangers, and the ebola virus.

8) This fabulous painting that I wish I could buy. But I can't. I emailed the artist.

9) My eyes are stinging like mad. Bleach. My husband is cleaning the basement!

10) But if those tools from the trash company don't pick up all our crap this time, instead of only choice bits of our crap like they have the two previous trash days, they will be made my bitch.

Watch

I'm in the process of writing a new post, but it's taking me longer than anticipated, what with the revising and all. In the meantime, watch me impress you with my memorization skillz:

The Missouri Highway Patrol Emergency Line is:

1-800-525-5555.

Saturday, October 01, 2005

Congratulations, Cindy and Gentry!

Tonight, my friend Cindy got married. Yes, there really was a children's choir. Her (Indian children) wedding dress was gorgeous. The two of them were beautiful.

Congratulations, both of you. You are very loved.

amsterdam

*Image stolen from the wedding's website. Yes, there was a website.
Lilypie Baby Ticker