Well Blended, a Perfect Mix.

Late Saturday night, the husband and I took a quick trip to Wal-Mart to stock our fruit and vegetable drawers. They were shockingly bare. I mean 'not even an old piece of garlic in the corner' empty. Either due to my compulsive desire to see how long I can go without taking a trip to the grocery store (it's kind of a inner-challenge thing) or my refusal to acknowledge that making dinner for the husband from a hot dog, tortilla, lone pickle and some mustard then calling it a 'grilled polish wrap' isn't a good idea.

Regardless, we found ourselves in the produce section. After stocking up on Cutie's, baby carrots and the likes (apparently our food is adorable?..), I sent the husband over to the banana display to pick the perfect bunch: more green than yellow, not too big, only a few to the cluster, you know.. the essentials.

But when I circled around to join up with him, something caught my eye. Namely, a little packet of delight I like to call 'banana smoothie mix'. Probably because that's what it is called, but regardless. I used to make them frequently in high school, but had somehow forgotten about their existence. Which was a real tragedy, because those things are delicious.

Fast forward an hour, and we're unloading plastic bags when it dawns on me: a banana smoothie would be the perfect midnight snack. Plus, the husband's never had one so everybody wins. All it takes is a banana, some milk, exactly eight ice cubes and one little packet of magic.

So I whip out my blender. And to pass the time, start up a little conversation:
Me: "You know, you married into an excellent blender. Heavy glass container, multiple speed setting, professional grade. Not to mention dishwasher safe. You should be proud."
Husband: "Don't I know it. Too bad it doesn't have a corner spout though. Those are the best."
Me: "Corner spout?.. I've never heard of such a thing."
Husband: "Yeah, they work a lot better than the side spout. Haven't you ever noticed that??"
Me: *embarrassed pause* "I guess so... I just never thought about pouring it from the corner. Now I'm thinking back to all of the times I've poured frozen drinks from this thing and shloshed it all over the place because the side spout's so dang crappy. It drives me bananas!" (pun intended)
Husband: "Well, why don't you try it?"

*commence making a perfect pour into each glass from the corner of the container, not spilling so much as a single drop*

Me: "CURSES!! How have I not thought of this before!??"
Husband: "I guess it all goes to show, you may marry into an amazing, top-of-the-line, grade A blender, but it takes a little love n' common sense to make it worth a dime."

Oh that boy.

He's the creme to my Oreo.
He's the fruit to my loop.
He's the epic to my fail.
He's tons of fun, and I'm no fun at all.

He... completes me.
Well, me and our blender.

'Blousy' Excuse.

This post has been a long time comin'. I started formulating the idea for it a few months ago when I came across a shirt in the clearance section of Deb that just screamed to be mine. I loved the color, the lacy fabric and the flowy sleeves, but it was two sizes too big.

Not to mention it belonged to the family of 'too-short to be a dress and too-long to be a shirt'. Most commonly paired with leggings in a failed attempt at modesty. (I hate that..)

Here is what it looked like to begin with.
(Notice the difference lighting can make. This was taken in the morning.)

 

I decided it was definitely worth a few dollars and took it home with me to eventually alter into something more flattering. But one thing led to another, and the days turned into weeks before I was able to unearth it from under all of the husband's ripped pants in my 'to-mend' pile. (The tally of patches sewn to date would astound you.)

I started by removing the elastic portion at the bottom and finishing off the seam with a rolled edge. I wanted to keep both the lace and lining edges separate, but someone (who obviously needs to be fired) at the factory sewed them together at the side seams, so I had to roll them together.

Which meant that it didn't lay as nicely as I would have liked, but I was too lazy to unpick the whole darn thing.

I figured the easiest way to add shape would be to sew an elastic to the underside of the fabric, so that it would come in at the waistline and flow away naturally. That would take care of extra bulk and cause a flattering gathered effect. Unfortunately, I underestimated the elastic I had on hand. It was much too flimsy and made the fabric pucker funny.

Then I had an epiphany and realized that the elastic bottom portion I had removed would work perfectly to add a waistline right under the bust. Which ended up looking a little somethin' like this: (Photo taken mid-day.)

 

I thought I was finished until I put it on and noticed that though the extra fullness in front housed the 'girls' quite nicely, the added fullness in back made me look like the next Quasimodo. It wasn't pretty.

Not to mention that the elastic was of poor quality and didn't cinch my waist tightly enough. Over-all, it was a complete do-over.

So I unpicked everything, again, and set off to find fabric to make a sash. I knew I needed to add a waistline, but I didn't think a belt matched the feminine feel I was looking for. I had also come to the conclusion that sewing in a waistline was futile due to the gathering required. Not to mention how extremely difficult (and painful!) trying to use your own body as a dress form is.

I ended up choosing a pink satin that was just a tad lighter than the shirt itself. I thought black would be too harsh, and white wasn't what I was looking for, so I stayed on the mono-chromatic side of things.

And I am super-pleased with how it turned out.
(Photo taken at night. Artificial light is horrible.)

The sash allows me to choose how tightly I want to tie it and where I want it to sit without being permanently attached. It also prevents mr. hunchie-back from returning, which I am very grateful for.

So it's finally finished. I'm wearing it presently. And it's an adorable blouse if I do say so myself. Notice how I avoided using the term 'blouse' until the very end. This is attributed to the flack I've received formerly for the use of the word.

There I was, a few months back, minding my own business updating my status about a 'blouse' that I had recently purchased, and I was bombarded with a slew of hateful comments surrounding the word.

Not only was I referred to as an 'old lady' for wearing them, I was also accused of having a 'scary, OCD, pink, frilly, blousy mind'.

It was a virtual smack-down of epic proportions, I tell you. (Refer to August 26th on my timeline for a full review.) And I'm still not quite sure how I deserved such treatment..

However, revenge was oh-so-sweet when a few months later the perpetrator was told she looked like a boy for wearing her beloved t-shirts. I bet wearing a 'blouse' doesn't sound so horrible now, does it little missy?..

Craysee Speshal.

On a pretty frequent basis, I encounter moments that just scream to be memorialized on my blog. It's almost as if fate sends all of the crazies my way just so I'll have something to write about.

I encountered one such 'crazy' earlier this week during a quick Macey's trip. I stopped to grab a few groceries and very quickly realized that I had been holding it all day at work and needed to find a bathroom ASAP.

So I sped-walked to the little ladies room, quick as a jiffy, to take care of business (if you know what I mean...). After choosing the second stall (always the best choice) and settling in, I noticed the entrance of another bathroom occupant.

"Brr. Cold. It's Cold." she mumbled, "Cold. Cold. Cold."

Pretending not to have noticed, I listened as she proceeded to fiddle with the door to the adjoining stall, sliding the lock back and forth and making a general ruckus. Apparently there was a problem, because she relocated to my other side and tried her luck there.

It's wasn't long before there was a knock at my door.
Which I found extremely unsettling considering our location and the purpose for being there.

"Occupied.", I sputtered nervously.

"Oh. Right. Of course." she voiced loudly, "There seems to be a problem with the locks around here. So I'll just wait 'til you're done."

No pressure, right?
It was then I noticed her feet protruding under my door. The woman's nose must have literally been touching the outside of my stall. She may have also had an eye pressed against the crack, I was too stunned to check.

"Okay..." I hesitated, "but I might be a minute."

Now, maybe it's just me, but I usually avoid conversations with strangers from within public restroom stalls. It borders on extremely awkward, and I try to avoid that at all costs.

But apparently, she was fine with it. Because two seconds later she started jabbering again.

"No problem. No problem. Maybe I can get this dang thing to work.", she decided as she tried the locks again. Much to my relief, one miraculously worked.

By this time, I was ready to wash my hands and get the heck out of there, but decided to avoid a face-to-face confrontation at all costs and stay within the safety of my stall. Where I remained during the next five minutes during her continuous stream of brain vomit. (You know, the thoughts most of us keep in our head, but in her case, voiced without filter or reserve.)

It went a little something like this:

"Come on, come on. Let's go!" (I'm scared to think what this was in reference to...)
"Yuck. Gah, Idiot." (Also, ew.)
*sighing impatiently*
"Good thing I got that darn door to lock, huh?" (No response.)
*laughing nervously*
"They should really check on those sorts of things." (I think it was a user error, personally.)
"Geez. It's stuck."
*grunts*
"Phew." (Why me?...)

Pretty sure there was some humming somewhere in there as well, but I could never be sure.

Before long she had made her way to the sinks (after hearing no flush, to my terror) where she proceeded to wash her hands. Well try, at least. Apparently the technology of the world was working against her because nothing seemed to be functioning correctly.

I went to my happy place and pretended I was invisible, seriously considering pulling my legs up to hide my shoes on the off chance that she might recognize them and strike up a potentially disastrous conversation, should I encounter her in the store again.

Naturally, there was additional commentary as she tried to figure out the paper towel dispenser, eventually giving up and exiting wet-handed.

Just to be safe, I waited an additional few minutes before making my escape. She could have come back, you can never be too careful.

Out of curiosity, I checked the offending stall locks.
As I expected, they were fully functioning and quite easy to maneuver. The toilet (which was actually an automatic flush) was also in perfect working condition. And when I washed my hands, guess what? The soap dispensed beautifully and the automatic towel machines easily detected my motion.

Which left me particularly puzzled.
How could one woman be so completely confounded by a multitude of simple machines? Most of them requiring only her motion to produce the desired result.

My only conclusion was that she must have fallen out of the 'special' tree and hit every special branch.

Regardless, it was an experience that I do not hope to repeat.
Friendly bathroom banter included.

Why I Love my Friends.

*Take into consideration that this conversation took place between 12 and 1 AM.*
Corin: "Do you get to sleep in tomorrow?"
Stefanie: "Yes.?"
Corin: "There's a question involved here?"
Stefanie: "Why are you asking that?"
Corin: "Because you put 'yes' question mark. Do you or don't you?"
Stefanie: "Yes. But why are you wondering that?"
Corin: "Because I'm deciding whether or not to be jealous! Geez, keep up with the program!"
Stefanie: "I'm confused..."
Corin: "Nevermind..."
Stefanie: "Okay..."
Corin: "Just know that I will be slaving away for hours on end while everyone else celebrates the true meaning of Christmas."
Stefanie: "What are you talking about?"
Corin: "I have to get up and go to work! And I'm complaining about it!"
Stefanie: "Lol. I really just laughed out loud!!"
Corin: "Oh you. I can never tell what is going to make you laugh."
Stefanie: "Haha. I'm sorry that you have to go to work. So now the true meaning of Christmas is sleeping in?"
Corin: "YES. And eating lots and lots of bacon."
Stefanie: "Haha. Good to know. I'm sad to hear that bacon has now replaced JESUS."
Corin: "HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!! Pfff.... I'm going to wake people up!!!! hehehehehehehehe.... I'm hyperventialating... I can't even spell that right either... I'm dying here. Deep breaths.... hoo. I think I'll be okay...."
Stefanie: "Okay good. Thanks for the 12 new messages..."
Corin: "Anytime. I think I'm a little slap happy."
Stefanie: "Haha. Ya, I think so too. This is the funniest conversation. I wish I could just save it. Haha."
Corin: "I've already documented part of it. It will go down in Corin status history!"

Stefanie: "Documented? You mean the part you put on your status for the whole world to see?"
Corin: "Yes! Is this a problem?..."
Stefanie: "Nope. Merry Bacon!"