If I ever become one of those mommy bloggers that do nothing but whore out appliances and name brands, someone, anyone, put me out of my effin misery. I get that kind of thing pays the bills and all but hot damn, when your blog looks more like Sears then you got problems.

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I am not a photographer. Photographers are people who know how to use their camera with their eyes closed and have more than one lens. I am not this person. I don’t see myself as one and using the term “photo shoot” makes me cringe because I really don’t see myself as “that” person. But then your friends ask you to take photos… Oh, ok. I like to take pictures but I don’t identify with the terminology that goes with it. Fair enough.

Anyway, when my friends Jax & Dave had to deliver their little one early and go through a couple of weeks of scary, I told them I would take photos of their Bean when they wanted me to. It’s the least I can do to soften the blow ya know? Maya was just ready to be here on her terms and despite being very early it was obvious this one has the spirit of a lion! Can’t say I blame her, she’s 1/2 Mexican and really wanted to be a Scorpio. Brace yourselves Jax and Dave, Latina/Scorpio is a powerful combination. I should know.

So when I finally got the “come over to do photos” green light, in came the nerves. I have never taken photos of a newborn, much less a preemie and let me tell you, you think it’s easy to get photos of a little baby? OMG are you wrong. They twitch, wiggle, make faces that aren’t becoming, they don’t take direction, they get hungry and crap mid session. It’s a lot buyativan.org of work! I took so many and the final cut was only a handful of shots.

You will have to excuse my cross posting on my fb page and here, I can’t help it… I am really proud of how these came out. These two were my favorites of the session.

I don’t think I did too bad for a first timer! Maya, I totally forgive you for pissing in my hand as I was positioning you around, these images were totally worth it.

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If there was anything I know that my girl is gonna thank me, I mean, us for are these. Lashes. For. Days. Latisse my ass.

Girl has totally turned another corner in size. It’s effin ridiculous how many times a year I have gone to get her clothes out of need. Belly shirts and puddle jumpers really aren’t in fashion these days… I did score some serious cute for her though which will make for great photoshoot material down the road.

She is going through a heavy imagination phase… she makes up the most bizarre things sometimes. Perfect example, “we’re gonna get dressed, go to the caves, gonna get a basket… we’re gonna pick rainbow butts and they taste like cherry, orange and baloney”. Or the other day, as I said my goodbyes, she told me to “watch out for bears”.

She had picture day recently and instead of dressing her up in crap she could care less about, we sent her to school in her unicorn costume. She loves that damn costume and wants to wear it everywhere. I really don’t care either. She was quite the hit at the Apple store the other day. I cannot wait to see how ridiculously awesome her school photos are going to be.

You know how every kid has “that” day at school? The day where your kid is “that asshole kid”? Well, Reza got it the other day. She broke a toy, shoved a kid and got 3 time outs cheap accutane for sale all in the same day. To say her teachers were not happy is an understatement. We were pretty pissed as well. So, as part of their discipline they told her that she had to take one of her toys to school and leave it there for the school since she broke one of theirs. So I did what any parent with a sense of sanity would do…. I made her pick one of the noisiest toys she owns. Success!!! She didn’t like it very much but hey, you gotta do what you gotta do ya know? 😉

I know there is more but I am a slacka ass slacka and don’t remember. Bad mommy.

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The last time I posted felt like eons ago. It always works out that way… the whirlwind of the birthday back to back to Thanksgiving week and next thing I know the month of November is totally gone. I haven’t had the time to properly gather myself and I just feel like shrapnel right now… pieces scattered everywhere. The next thing you know you’ve woken up one morning and it’s already December.

We spent Thanksgiving across the border. It was the first time in a while we had got together for a holiday. It was quite nice, despite the fact it was freezing balls right by the beach. Liz cooked up an effin storm as usual and girl don’t fuck around either. She made this that http://healthlibr.com just has to be documented for posterity cause honestly, it was my favorite dish of the night. Forget the turkey and traditional fixins’, I could have just had this and been happy..

Puff pastry with brie, sauteed oyster mushrooms – baked and then topped with leek, slivered pear and white truffle oil. Holy mouthgasm batman. Needless to say I will be making this! and yes, totally vegetarian for you Crunchy McCrunchersons out there.

I know people love to cook a lot on Thanksgiving for the sake of having leftovers for days and despite being sent home with leftovers (some of which are still in the fridge), I gotta say I totally disagree with this concept. The last thing I need is a reminder in the fridge giving me flashbacks of the fact I ate more than I probably should have and spent the following days wanting to push out the Thanksgiving baby stuck in my ass.

We drove back that night and god, I love going to Mexico but the border crossings are always a damn crap shoot and boy did we get snake eyes Thanksgiving night. We did about 2.25 HOURS in the car waiting in line. I was grateful that Reza slept through the entire thing, we had good music and Josh and Cass were in the car to keep me entertained. At some point you find yourself in the movement (or lack thereof), it’s 12 a.m. and the delirium starts to hit you… then you start making up song lyrics about asses and farts while deciding which of the plaster tchotchkes on the side of the road was the worst. My vote was for the glitter encrusted wall plaque with the typical depiction of the Aztec pimp holding his woman meat. I think Josh went with the Homer Simpson Santa that looked like he was holding a cross. Getting across and in my bed had never felt better.

I am going into the holiday season with some disgust to be honest. Too much gluttony, too much consumerism, seeing too much of a lot of things that don’t belong there in the first place. Being forced to look at things from a different angle has been an eye opening experience. Sure, there are a lot of things I want but a large percentage of them are not things I NEED. Need and want are two totally different sports. This is what happens when you do work that revolves around customer “service”. You get to really see a lot about what the season is to some people and honestly it is revolting. The shopping obsession in this country trips me out! Tis the season for self entitlement, assholes and even worse drivers. Not sure what the “season” brings to you, but one thing I do know, it brings out the absolute worst in some people. It’s quite saddening really. I guess you could say I am going through some seasonal affective disorder, just a different kind of season.

Other than that, what else? This is where this post goes totally disjointed and I don’t care….

I have been listening to a lot of Boy Is Fiction. And so should you. There is SO MUCH good music out there that you will never know or hear about… Case in point another gem that found me, Snow In Mexico (get their free EP, it’s quite good if you like shoegaze whatnot)

I’ve been trying to keep up with the yoga at least 2 times a week. I am getting better and enjoying it despite the challenges and unholy sweating. But that feeling after class? That is the best part! You walk out from intense heat into the cool, the invigoration, the personal sense of fulfillment… I wish I could bottle it up and sell it.

Speaking of yoga I find great amusement in locker rooms and the way women act in them. Look, I know I am not a stick but I could care less if a bunch of chicks see me naked. Yes I have flab, cheese, a lot of tattoo work and scars the size of Texas. Sure, I am not gonna sit there all spread eagle showing off the interiors of my cervix but if I need to change I am not going to be all secret squirrel either. The other day this chick got into a shower stall to change… look, do what you need to make you feel good but what came next threw me for a loop. Girl was embarrassed to change out in the open but she tossed over her clothes out onto the floor… a pile of clothes that left her dirty underwear spread out for full view. I dunno about you but I would be more embarrassed that everyone saw my cooter stamp stains on my skivvies than being seen naked. Cochina.

Saw part I of the last installment of the Harry Potter series and god, I got all damn teary eyed so many times. I can’t even begin to tell you how sad that 10 years of my life are going to come to a close next year… So many memories revolve around these movies and no, I don’t expect anyone to understand my emotional investment in the story of the boy wizard.

Oh yeah…. and I am drawing again. I got some catching up to do in this regard. Do not underestimate the power of Scarf Bunny.

Oh and for the record, I find giant blocks of Thanksgiving/Xmas ham absolutely NASTY.

Ho, ho, ho!

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Another year has come and gone. Has much changed since last year? You could say it has. Today I am 36 years old. So the morning of 36 arrived with a case of the flu and my period. FUN. But on the bright side at least I am not pregnant right? Happy birthday to you Ivonne, I give you the gift of not losing your mind to more screaming children of the corn!

I’ve been joking about the fact that 36 has bumped me up into another category of oldness… no longer can I check the box next to 30-35, instead I am lumped with the 36-40. You know, with those middle aged people. HA! Where is my Geritol?!

I went into 35 thinking it was going to be an amazing year and while a lot of good did occur, it didn’t come without its fair share of trials. You know, a wart on my face and the joys of unemployment…. FUN.

I started my year shedding some skin. Literally. It brought a new outlook with it and really brought some perspective to my life… and just as I was getting back to my normal routine, the rug was pulled out from under our feet. I thought 35 was going to be one thing and it turned out to be completely another. But hey, that is how life works right? If you got your way all the time, well, it’d be really effin boring, no?

The past year has been a lot of introspection, trying not to lose my composure, realizing what things really matter and weeding out the things that don’t. I am trying hard to learn the concept of surrendering myself to the now and not thinking about the then, cutting ties with those who choose not to evolve, and opening doors to those who want to grow with me. It’s an interesting place to be.

It’s funny what happens when you are forced to look at things and realize you could have done things differently. Sometimes we all need that getting knocked on the ass to test us… just to see if you’re gonna be a pansy and mope around or if you’re gonna have the set to get the fuck up and deal.

That is the balance that I am trying to figure out. That is what 36 is going to be for me… finding that balance and the place where I can find it best. If it is here or wherever fate takes us next, that I am not sure. One thing I do know, I am ready to embrace change when she finally decides to knock on our door.

Til next buyviagraed.com year November 18th, lets see what you bring me this time around.

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It only seems fitting that I use a section of this blog to showcase the many, many, talented people I know, watch and follow up on. There is so much talent in the world and I am all about spreading the love and credit where it is due.

In comes INK+WINDOW… this is where I will be showing you the eye porn, the art, the photography that tickles and moves my innards. So it only seemed fitting to showcase something cute for the 1st edition of this post.

In comes cracker in the soup boy….

I love love this piece by Cuddly Rigor Mortis aka the art of Kristin Tercek. To be honest I really like all of it. I have watched her progress over the years and her painted work is her best yet. She manages to make the twisted look utterly adorable. I mean look at the meatball! I just want to bite his head off. nom nom nom.

Kristen resides on the East Coast, with her equally as talented husband, Ed Mironiuk who has quite the knack for the pin up art. (link is NSFW cause he likes to draw the ass and titties, ass, ass and titties)

Can you imagine the conversations these two have? Jesus. I want to be a fly on that wall.

You can see the rest of Kristen’s awesome art, buy prints, etc. over at www.cuddlyrigormortis.com

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Marriage: The coming together of two people who love one another, the coming together of ideas, morals, passion and habits.

Oh yes my friends. I said habits. Look, I know we all have our share of idiosyncrasies, ticks, weird shit we do. I know I am no exception. For example, I have a bad habit of leaving drawers and cabinet doors open. It drives Josh up the wall cause at any given point in time he is fending for his balls or eye socket. I make note that I have this habit so I *try* to not do it. I fail miserably.

Josh has his kooky habits, all men do. (Sidenote: Yes women are no exception so don’t pounce on me here… “oh there she goes, acting like all men are Attila The Hun and women are saints”). Things like: getting more water than necessary all over the place when he showers and shaves. But this post is to highlight the nerdery. Josh likes to read. A LOT. At any given point in time he is reading 3-5 books and whips through them like no person I have seen before. He reads a lot of science fiction, history, classics, science… super nerd. Anyway, because of said reading addiction he leaves books everywhere and his favorite place to do most of this said reading and book stacking is in the place most men enjoy a good book… THE BATHROOM.

I don’t mind seeing books in the bathroom but there are times when there is a stack of them on the toilet and when your bathroom is the size of an outhouse, the clutter drives. me. nuts. He always manages to leave said books on the trash can lid, AKA I can’t open it. But this is the one that gets me the most….

I find great humor in the fact that since we have been in the state of cohabitation, you know, basically our entire relationship since he moved in two weeks after we met… that he has always been a bathroom reader and perpetually uses toilet paper as a bookmark. I have tried to break this habit. I buy him bookmarks, the nice ones! magnetic corner kind, paper kind… and somehow they all evade him. He likes his toilet paper bookmark.

I think the reason he does it is cause when he reaches the end of his nerd novel of the week, he will take that piece of TP that has joined him on his journey of literacy and defecation and use it to wipe his ass.

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If there was ever proof that Trader Joes and their holiday snack-like goodies are the work of the devil, well, this is proof. I found myself in there today, you know, picking up the missing whatnot and there they are on an endcap by register… beckoning, enticing, with their pretty packaging and promises of Xmas delight in my mouth. “Decadently Enrobed” (total marketing genius btw!) 4 different flavors of Joe Joes, IN ONE BOX no less… candy cane, ginger snap, peanut butter and some other flavor I overlooked. You assholes.

So I cave in, the box is in my cart. I have succumbed to temptation. You ever catch yourself making excuses for your moments of weakness? “Hey, I just got out of yoga, sweat like a damn fool…. I earned these treats, I deserve some shu-gah!”

I get to the register and the snooty La Jolla lady in front of me is taking her unholy time to get out. So in my boredom I pick up the box of Satan’s nibbles and do what no woman who caves into temptation should EVER be doing: I looked at the caloric content.

Holy mother of…. 130 calories A COOKIE? When I know I would have anywhere from 2-3 a sitting? Oh hell to the no. I took that box and cast it back to the hells from whence it came. You will not have my soul! Not yet anyway.

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Dear Peanut,

I know that being 4 is awesome cause you can fight, express and challenge. I get the part you are excited about things, you want to talk to us and want to play. I get those things. What I don’t want to get is the communication via yelling, the acting like a crackhead, the “I want it now” Miss Sassypants attitude you’ve been dishing out as of late.

Being a parent is a lot harder than I thought it would be at times. You have those moments when you clamor for your own serenity, for the space, the quiet, the calm…. like the one I am having right now cause you just went to bed. Don’t get me wrong baby girl, I love you more than chocolate and pie, but there are times when I need time to hear myself think.

So you went to bed early tonight (thank you Daylight Savings) and I was sitting here looking for an old post of mine from years ago. I was planning on revisiting said post and I was unsuccessful in finding it. But, what I did find were lots and lots of entries and photos of you and I together. It’s an overwhelming flood of memories. I think about the times you were little and manageable, not that you aren’t manageable now, but you are far from little these days. I don’t know where our time went but you’ve grown up into this person and as much as I want to believe you are still that lumpy baby licking walls and pulling all the wipes out of the box, you aren’t anymore. It makes me really sad sometimes.

So I just need to remind myself… even on those days when you are bouncing off the walls, when you ask me to put the Woody movie on more times than I can count and my PMS is making me think and feel things I cannot even repeat… I just need to remember to look back at moments like this one, when it was just us and nothing else mattered.



P.S. a couple octaves lower would be so, so appreciated.

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I am so awful. So I start this blog and I am all “RAWR! NEW BLOG! I am gonna post more!” and then the Earth swallows me up. Well, not literally, cause duh, I am posting here.

For one, I started back up at the seasonal holiday job doing CSR work. Man have I acquired stories from that one but that is for another post. This post is about my adventures in the land of yoga.

One of the reasons I have gone into total hermit land is cause well, I am sad face. Sad about everything being crappy, sad nothing seems to go right and in doing so, I sit around, mope and do nothing. Well, besides shove tasty shit in my mouth. I love the tasty but food is my drug and rehab is necessary. I refuse to buy a pant size up. Hell to the NO.

Cass has become quite the avid yoga junkie and she and I have been spending a lot of time together as of late. She insists that I should go to her new studio.  “I guarantee you that you will lose up to 20 lbs if you come with buypropeciaonline.org me 3-4 times a week for the next 2-3 months”. Ok girl, so it’s on.

When you think of yoga, you think hippie chanting, bells, peace, love and grease. Well yes, it is a lot of that but the particular studio we are going to is only one thing: HOT YOGA. “you will sweat like you have never sweat before”, she says. Ok, girl, it is ON. Now, this makes me sound like a total a-hole that doesn’t buy into the spiritual hype that comes from bending yourself into pretzel like positions under extreme heat… I find calm in it, it eases me but it all comes on my terms and when I am ready. I don’t mind the crunch factor.

Class one was last week… so far so good…. nice joint and then we walk into the studio itself and it is like a damn sauna. 95 degrees to be exact. You got to be shitting me. You got to keep in mind I am one of those people that doesn’t sweat very much, even when exercising. I just don’t. Oh lord, was I wrong.

Class one, it’s hot, I am literally dripping, my shirt is glued to my body with it, my heart is pounding in my chest, I am as red as a lobster in boiling water. I am laying there and the sweat is pooled up in my eye sockets, the salt from all the sweat is burning. At one point I felt like I was gonna throw up and/or pass out. Can you imagine? Passing out in a puddle of ones own vomit? HA, don’t tell me if you have, I will lose respect for you.

But to sum it up in one statement: It was a complete and total yoga smack down!! and you want me to do WHAT??!! Crow position? Who the hell are YOU kidding lady? This is level-1 mind you. I passed on crow but I cannot say that I am not envious of the strength it requires to get into that special place.

Last night was class #2 and it was butts to nuts. And look, I know yoga is all about your pace, your experience and what your neighbor does should not concern you. You find the strength in your own experience and practice. But you tell me something, how are you not going to be intimidated when you are the ONLY thick chick in the room that is falling all over herself? When there are gorgeous, sweaty, half naked men in front of you!? Oh ok Mr. Sexy Shirtless Instructor Man, you just tell me not to be intimidated when there is a guy doing a god damned hand stand for minutes, rows up front before class. And no, your sweaty, lean, muscular body isn’t distracting me at all!! Not… one…. bit ;).

It has been interesting to say the least. Between this and the 2 times a week pilates training I have been doing my body is feeling some crazy strength coming into it. My muscles have been taking a serious beating but that soreness is so delicious, I earned that delicious and I can only hope I will show something for it down the road.

So hot yoga… I am not sure if it is a love affair just yet but I feel SO GOOD after class that it is enough for me to keep going back. Getting the toxins out while building strength and leaning out my body? That doesn’t sound like such a bad deal. I need to give it a month before I decide I am a believer in the ways of Sweating To The Drums and Chanting. And if you know me, you know I like to prove a point, cause damned if I am not going to master some of this shit. The challenge is on. The sweat is on… even if I am slipping in a puddle of my own.

Crow here I come.

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