-image-Dress the Blogger.

September 29, 2009 | "project!",a girl's gotta shop

I need your help. No, not you with the shiny black leggings, netted, fingerless gloves and Ogilve home perm. YOU, with the wedding guest attire expertise and sense of style.

In less than one month, I will be attending a “black tie invited” wedding at high noon with a formal dinner reception in the early evening (and a light lunch following the ceremony). We’ve been advised to wear the same attire to all events, so thankfully I don’t have to worry about multiple outfits. Cuz really? I’d RSVP “poor.”

I don’t want to look like a whorebag, and I will not ask Mr. Squirrel to follow me around with a giant fan.

What should I wear? I’m like a naked deer in the headlights. As opposed to the mythical fully-clothed deer.

-image-It’s That Kind of Post

Uncategorized

You know the kind, where I post an adorable picture to distract you from me having not much to say. I mean, I do have a crapload going on, but if I start going into it, I’ll be here all day, and then my kids will be yanking on the computer and “helping’ me type and who will start Grandma’s beef stew in the crockpot? WHO?

And who do you think will prowl the back lots of the local stores in search of big cardboard boxes in preparation for the Big Ass Garage Sale I’m cochairing for Jojo’s nursery school? WHO?

 If I don’t stop this crazy post, who’s going to start the laundry, empty the dishwasher, rebuild that Lego dumptruck, build a block tower, set up the army men and provide countless kisses to those little schmoopies? WHO?

Who’s going to lovingly bake fish sticks for lunch? Exactly. Glad you understand.

-image-What Went Down?

September 23, 2009 | random randomness,the homestead

You know how sometimes your houseguest leaves and then you return from dropping them off at the train station and suddenly you notice the guest bathroom toilet has no water in it and for the disgust of sewage smell… our bathroom reeeeeks. Even Jojo noticed and said through pinched nose “wow that stinks!”

 What happened? I can’t ask. Can I? I mean, something wrong went flushing south and now we have got calls into plumbers and no one is calling us back. I think the stank has spoken and we will forever be surrounded by it. How much do you think this will run us? I shudder. Also? Note to self:  buy plumbing book for hubby (yeah, I’m not coming near the source of that action).

-image-Go Forth and Squeeeeeal

September 22, 2009 | friends

My good friend, Britt, just gave birth to a beautiful, sweet, LOVELY little bundle of cuteness. Britt’s one of those amazing, talented, hilarious, generous women that has no idea just how much awesomeness radiates from her.

 She’s faithful and spiritual, unlike myself, and one of the two reasons why I launch into a mini-Mormom lecture when I hear people spouting silly stereotypes about this faith and its followers. Sometimes I have to remind myself that I don’t actually “know” Britt. We’ve never met in person, but we’ve exchanged emails, notes, and small tokens of friendship (showcasing her talented craftsmanship). I’d kick ass for this girl (just like good Friends of Mormons do! Jesus said! Or maybe not.).

If you have time and want to coo and gaga over a beautiful baby and read about a sassy big brother and a beloved and loving mama, visit Britt, and show some Mom of Two support! She might need it should her son decide to pee on the baby again.

-image-Sh*t, Recycled

September 9, 2009 | a girl's gotta shop,bitterness,blog business

So there I was, all have a fine today, even managing to take both boys to the grocery store sans incident when I see this horrific flashback to my later middle school years and I want to run and find this waitress and rip these jeans off of her probably fit body; however, her body looks lumpy and dumpy in these hideous rolled up faded jeans with the barfy fringed purse and those bangs? Are those part of the outfit? On purpose? The booties need to be burned and their ashes burned. Then bury the ashes. And while the fire of fug burns bright and hot, toss in that purse, the belt and that shirt. I mean, the shirt may be ok on its own, but surrounded by such fug, it’s a lose lose.

make it go away.

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Also? If you know of anyone who could update my WordPress files in my server, I’m willing to pay a reasonable fee. My hosting company offered to do it for a mere $699.00. Yes, the decimal is correctly and ridiculously placed.

-image-Six Years

September 6, 2009 | Mr. Squirrel

Today is Mr. Squirrel and my anniversary. Here at HollowSquirrel, you will not read a schmaltzy love letter to the husband. Nope. You’ll get the truth. Here’s the truth:  I love my husband. Some days more than others. Some days I think “would I be better off divorced?” Some days I answer that question with a resounding “YES!” Wouldn’t life be easier? Less messy!? Less frustrating?! Well, then I get my head out of my ass and cool down (and grab a snack) and reconsider.

Mr. Squirrel, however infuriating some days, would never hurt me or the kids. He’s a hard worker, honest, wickedly intelligent yet modest and thinks I’m funny. He looks like Harry Potter when he wears his old glasses. He’s a good man. He’s a good dad, even though he brought up from the basement well over 10,000 Legos from his own childhood for Jojo (who is still only three, Mr. Squirrel). Can you imagine what our house looks like? Yeah. But I’ll keep him.