The Glamorous Life

I've Moved

2009-07-09T22:51:00.003-05:00

It's time for a change so I've moved The Glamorous Life. There will still be plenty of pointless posts and millions of photos of Little Harry. Go Here Now! (www.glamorousjo.wordpress.com)

Look Who's 1 Month Old Today!

2009-07-05T13:43:00.003-05:00

Four Years

2009-07-04T10:57:00.002-05:00

Today is the Illingworth Four Year Wedding Anniversary. In lieu of some gagtastic love fest where I tell you all about how much I love Ryan and how these past four years have been better than I could have imagined, I'm going to give you an example of why I love this guy.

Ryan has filmed about 100 of these little videos of Harry and each one makes me love him more. He's determined to capture every tiny moment of Harry's new life - all those moments that no one in the world cares about but us. Seeing the way he loves or son has only reaffirmed why I married him. He's still my #1 guy, the one who makes me weak in the knees. And I can't wait for 40 more years!!

Not Only That, He's Cute Too

2009-07-01T19:13:00.003-05:00

I've been meaning to write a post all about motherhood and how awesome Little Harry is and so forth and so on. And while extreme lack of sleep has certainly played a part in my wordlessness, it's mostly been because I'm so full up I just don't know what to say. And so, here is my stream of consciousness commentary on the last few weeks.

When you have your first baby at 34 (four days before turning 35), there are a few truths you can count on.
-All of your friends have had at least one baby, probably three
-People have assumed you are infertile, some even giving you the Bless Your Heart routine
-Yours will not be the first grandbaby
-You will have loved this baby for a long, long time

Lots of people talk about falling in love with their child the moment their eyes meet for the first time. It wasn't exactly that way for me. I've loved Little Harry for years. I've been waiting for him and hoping for him and loving him. Sure, I didn't have a face to my hope, didn't know his sex or his name, but I loved him just the same. These last few weeks of meeting him and getting to know him have just felt like a "yeah" moment. A comfortable fit. I had that same feeling when I met Ryan. It wasn't so much lovey-dovey rapture as it was "yeah, you and me, this is it".

Being Harry's mom feels natural. Feels right.

Some of my friends have said things like "are you so happy to finally be a mom?" and "is it everything you had hoped it would be?" I don't really know how to respond. Don't know how to articulate what I'm experiencing. Being Harry's mom is not a new experience or feeling - it's like coming home.

He's mine and I'm his and now we're finally together.

He Believes He Can Fly, He Believes He Can Touch The Sky

2009-06-29T15:09:00.002-05:00

I realize all new parents think their baby is superior to every other baby...but...can those parents say that their baby is Super? BECAUSE WE CAN.

Harry can poop his pants mere seconds after getting a clean diaper. He can drink milk, burp and make loud grunting noises while sleeping. He can grasp your finger in a single bound.

He's our Super Baby!!

Parenting Skills

2009-06-19T17:39:00.002-05:00

We asked Harry what he thinks about our parenting skills so far, and this was his response:

Why We Became Parents

2009-06-17T20:16:00.002-05:00

What good is a video camera if you can't share your kid's gas with the world I say.

Also, Harry, I'm sorry.

Sort of.

Gamers

2009-06-12T21:42:00.002-05:00

I take a nap and wake up to find my two boys playing Nintendo. I knew this day would come, I just didn't think it would be when Harry was five days old.

So....The Birth

2009-06-10T16:35:00.004-05:00

A c-section was never part of our birth plan. As of last Friday, it became the only plan. The specialist consulted with my OB and my OB consulted with the specialist and they both consulted with us on a variety of levels. There were meetings and phone calls and words like "paralysis" for Harry if we tried to deliver and concern about his large size and so on and so forth. It's a lot to go into as to all the reasons why but ultimately we decided a c-section was the best choice for the baby while not our first choice.

Friday morning we arrived at the hospital at 5:30am, neither of us having slept much at all. Both of us feeling good with an underlying current of fear/nerves/nausea. I kept telling Ryan (so that I could hear the words out loud), "It's going to be ok. I'll get an IV, then they will put in the epidural, then we'll have a baby!"

So easy right?

At around 8:00am the nurse came in to put in my IV. After two rather painful sticks, she called in another nurse to try. After two MORE painful sticks, and a blown vein, they called in the anesthesiologist who finally got it in. I told the nurses I had only signed up for one IV....not five....through my now flowing tears. I had been so together and so brave until the fourth stick. After that, the floodgate of nerves and worry for myself and my baby busted wide open. Still reeling from the painful sticks and newly raw emotion I was prepped for the epidural. I was hunched over as the nurse held on to me and tried to assure my hysteria that everything was going to be ok. And it was! I barely felt the epidural and suddenly felt an assuring calm.

Which was good because they immediately wheeled me into the freezing, sterile, bright as the sun OR. I laid there helplessly exposed while eight or more people buzzed around me discussing the events of the day, various operating instruments, hospital gossip. A nurse wrapped warm towels around my arms and ankles while the anesthesiologist started to pinch me. It went something like this:

-Do you feel this?
-Yes.
-How about this?
-Yes.
-And this?
-Yes.
-Are you sure?
-Yes.

I hear some mumbling behind me, words like "any minute" and "soon" and "we'll try again but I'm sure it's working". All the while the anesthesiologist was putting more and more medicine in my back. Moments later while everyone is waiting, both my friends and family and all the OR staff, they try again. It goes something like this.

-Do you feel this?
-Yes.
-How about this?
-Yes.
-Are you sure?
-Yes.
-Really?
-Yes.
-.........Are you sure?
-YES.

More mumbling. Growing concern. Then they put the sheet in front of me and called Ryan and got ready to start. My heart started to pound wondering if they had heard me correctly when I said YES I CAN FEEL THAT. With the sheet up in front of my face, I couldn't see who or what was happening but suddenly felt something sharp and not ok. I shouted I CAN FEEL SOMETHING SHARP. Suddenly everyone froze and someone behind the sheet said "we're going to need to do another epidural."

And so it was. Three nurses worked to sit me up on the operating table while I assumed the hunched over position with legs I couldn't feel, an abdomen I COULD feel and a growing fear. Once the first epidural was removed and the second one was in place the whole scenario started again.

-Do you feel this?
-Yes.
-How about this?
-Yes.
-Ok. (long awkward concerned pause) How about this?
-YES. I CAN FEEL THAT.
-...............

After some moments of hushed conversation over my head, the sheet went back up, Ryan was invited back in and everyone got ready for the big show. Suddenly I yelled I CAN FEEL SOMETHING SHARP. SOMETHING SHARP.

At that point a second anesthesiologist was called in and more discussion was had while I laid naked and afraid in a room full of irritated people. I was propped up once more and given a spinal - moments later I felt like someone was standing on top of my rib cage and then I heard the best sound I've ever heard in my life...my son's cry.

He was here. He was breathing. He was HERE.

Illingworth Manor Plus One

2009-06-09T14:38:00.002-05:00

It's my birthday today. I'm 35 and I got the greatest birthday present ever.

There's so much to say that I cannot find the words or the energy as this little guy loves to party all night. The birth is another story for another day (read: dramatic) but Harry is simply amazing. He's the best thing that's ever happened to us and we are instantly in love. So here's to the greatest birthday I've ever had!

Right Now

2009-06-04T19:28:00.002-05:00

Harry is arriving at 9am tomorrow morning.

It's impossible to verbalize this moment. I'm terrified and at peace. Anxious and excited. Scared and worried. Happy. Delirious. Overjoyed about meeting my son - someone I've wanted to meet for so many years. Hopeful. Tired. Ready and so not ready. It's a moment I've looked forward to for so long and yet a moment I cannot describe. It's unnerving. Everyone says SLEEP! but how can I sleep at a moment like this?

Typical Day

2009-05-22T19:02:00.002-05:00

8:00am - Wake up so I can check my blood sugar (ouch!), give myself two different insulin shots and eat a diabetic approved breakfast.

8:30am - Drop off Ryan's car at the shop for what will surely be an expensive repair.

10:00am - Sit on the couch to rest after taking a shower, feel lightheaded and weird.

10:30am - Check blood sugar (ouch!) and see that it's surprisingly low. No wonder I feel lightheaded and weird.

10:31am - Eat a diabetic approved morning snack.

10:35am - Drive downtown for appointment with specialist.

11:15am - Check in and wait while listening to the extremely loud staff talk about their lunch choices.

11:30am - Ultrasound. Harry is perfect and adorable. See him wiggle and practice breathing and move his lips. See his heart beating. Ask him politely to COME OUT ALREADY.

11:50am - Move to exam room and wait for doctor.

12:10pm - Wait.

12:20pm - Wait. Hope doctor hurries as blood sugar drops.

12:30pm - Wait.

12:40pm - Nurse says there's a problem with another patient and the doctor may be a while. Decide to leave as lunch is way past due.

12:45pm - Listen to voicemail from company HR department letting me know I will not be getting a paycheck on Friday if the insurance drama is not worked out quickly.

12:46pm - Freak out.

1:10pm - Check blood sugar (ouch!) and freak out again as it's WAY too low.

1:11pm - Chug milk and shove diabetic approved food in my mouth so I don't pass out. Talk to Ryan about what we should do about the insurance situation.

1:40pm - Call specialist to work out insurance. Find out specialist cannot recommend time off, it must come from OB. Sigh loudly as OB hasn't been involved in the time off discussion, only the specialist. Think about car bill and hospital bill and feel yet another freak out approaching.

1:50pm - Drive down the interstate discussing money/time off options when suddenly an SUV slams into the back of another SUV three feet from us. Ryan slams on the breaks. Car behind us swerves and a semi-truck comes within inches of our car. And us. And our baby.

1:50pm - FREAK. OUT.

Rest of the Day: Doesn't matter as I'm wrapped in a cloud of "we almost died" and "the baby!!" and "OHMYWORD".

And yes, this is how I spend my "stress free" days off from work so that my baby will be ok.

Call Your Doctor

2009-05-14T15:57:00.004-05:00

Disclaimer: This post is not to say that I don't love and respect the medical community because I do appreciate all the help I've received lately, just that sometimes their methods make me Real Housewives of New York crazy. Ramona, specifically. Please read as such.

These days, I see a minimum of four medical professionals a week. That may not sound like a lot so let me break it down for you. Once a week I go to my OBGYN office where I will see one of six doctors and their specific nurse. I have questions every week and and every week I see someone different or new. Sometimes I wonder if they ever talk to each other. I'm starting to suspect they do not. Also, once a week I go to the specialist and see one of three ultrasound techs and one of three doctors. I also have loads of questions for them and they also all say something different. I'm thinking of introducing them to each other. One doctor will totally stress me out with worse case news and the next will act as if my condition is so fine it's laughable. As if I'm not on a roller coaster of emotions already. "The Sugars are DANGEROUSLY HIGH!!! SOUND THE ALARM!!!" or "The Sugars aren't so bad, I've seen way worse. You're fine." Well which is it?

And ok, they all give (generally) sound advice that (generally) matches up with what the other ones say. But. I have been pregnant for 103 weeks and I have LOTS of questions about how this is all gonna go down and some of them say "it'll be fine" and some of them say "this could be serious" and some of them say "don't be silly" and some of them say "wait, you're having a baby?" And I haven't even mentioned all the advice/info I got from nurses in the hospital. I should have kept tape recordings of every doctor visit so I could compare and contrast. Also so my head could explode.

From what I can currently deduce from all the info we've gotten thus far, Harry is doing splendid and should be making an arrival soon. But we have an appointment with the specialist tomorrow so that could all change depending on who we see and what mood they are in. Wheeeeeee!!!!!!!!!!!

The Count Would Love This Post

2009-05-10T19:06:00.003-05:00

6 - Number of times a day Minnie asks for a belly scratch
3,602 - Number of times per day you will hear the word "space" on HGTV
11 - Number of times per day I stick myself with some sort of needle
35.5 - Number of weeks Baby Harry has been growing
40 - Number of pounds of peanut butter I've been required to eat in the last few weeks
41 - Number of gallons of milk I've been required to drink in the last few weeks
0 - Number of teams I'm pulling for in the Amazing Race finale
2 - Number of flower deliveries I've received this week
17 - Number of six packs of Activia yogurt lady at Target bought today while telling the clerk and anyone within earshot about her digestive issues. Also, she doesn't live off the government thankyouverymuch
16 - Number of pounds I've gained with this pregnancy
1,350 - Number of diaper wipes in Harry's room

Clorox for Scale

2009-05-06T19:36:00.001-05:00

I didn't even know Walgreens Pharmacy HAD bags so big. Yet another point for you, Gestational Diabetes.

In other news, after six long days I'm finally free!!! Illingworth Manor never looked so good.

Another Dramatic Chapter

2009-05-04T15:11:00.003-05:00

I'm in the hospital. Here's what's happening:

-I'm allowed to have Diet Coke!
-The toilet paper sucks.
-I don't have an IV!
-The Sugars keep dropping to dramatically low levels that make me feel as if I'm going to die and make the nurses FREAK OUT.
-I don't have to wear a hospital gown!
-I was supposed to be here 24 hours - I have now been here four days and counting thanks to The Sugars.
-I don't have to think about what to eat - they just bring it!
-Sometimes they give me Buttermilk instead of Skim milk and I don't realize it until I've taken a massive gulp. OF BUTTERMILK.
-Some of the nurses are awesome!
-Some of the nurses forget my scheduled snacks until I've wasted away into a puddle of gestationally diabetic patheticness.
-Harry is doing great!
-I worry constantly about Harry.
-One of my doctors is awesome and sweet and answers all of my questions with kindness and concern!
-One of my doctors is blunt and likes to throw around the word (and mental picture of) "stillbirth" like it's some sort of Jelly Bean Flavor that's not favorable. (sugar free of course)
-Most of the nurses have told me he's "crazy - don't worry about it"
-I still do. How could you hear stillbirth and NOT worry about it?
-So far my hospital stay hasn't been TOO terrible - lots of friends have visited and the time doesn't always drag on.
-I'm in a hospital downtown instead of the hospital near our house which means Ryan has to drive 45 minutes to see me, drive home to take care of Minnie, drive to work......he's really been putting in the miles.
-I now have to give myself a shot three times a day. With a syringe. And a needle. I was quite nervous about it but have found that I'm now a pro at driving needles into my flesh - although I don't think this is a marketable skill for anyone other than a heroin addict.

The Shift

2009-04-25T09:34:00.004-05:00

We went to see the specialist yesterday and I left feeling encouraged, although I can't really say why. My situation is the same. Last night The Sugars were the highest yet (borderline alarming) and a hospital stay is imminent. And there's also the shots I will inevitably have to give myself several times a day. Shots. With a needle. Given to me by me. I'm now on the highest dosage of medication possible taking eight pills a day. I still have daily spells where I feel so lightheaded and weak that I'm afraid of falling out of my office chair or forgetting who I am.

So what's with all the encouragement? I don't know, maybe I've just accepted it. Maybe I'm over the initial " WHAT DID YOU SAY" I've had at each doctor visit. After you hear something so many times you get used to it. "You may have to be hospitalized" - yeah I know. "You're baby is going to be large, maybe dangerously so" - yeah I know. "This ordeal means you are at a high risk to develop diabetes F-O-R-E-V-E-R" - yeah, I heard that. "High risk! Bad news! Terrible outcomes on the horizon!" - Yup.

I'm calm. Happier, even.

You would think that with my newfound no-stress bliss The Sugars would have eased up a bit. But, no. There seems to be no rhyme or reason other than every part of my reproductiveness is angry. But we all knew that. Bottom line, I only have a few weeks left of this nonsense. And so far Harry is reacting well at each monitoring and ultrasound (of which we've had FOUR*) and that's really all I care about. If he's fine, I'm fine. Sure, I feel lousy and am overwhelmed with doctor's visits and medication and finger pricking and diet and so on but also, fine. I'm fine and he's fine and Ryan is fine. Even Minnie is fine.

And that's enough.

*By the way, did you know that ultrasounds are about $1200 a pop? And I've had four? And I have a $300+ doctor's "consultation" once a week plus monitoring at my OB plus OB visits plus all the medication and medical equipment. This is not a speech about whether or not we should have universal healthcare (because Ryan and I have debated FAR TOO MUCH on the subject) but good gravy, what do people do without insurance?? You can say no to your own health (although no one should) but who could say "that's ok, I'll just wait and see how the baby turns out". I guess some people are forced to? For that I say - THANK YOU SONY MUSIC FOR MY KICK BUTT HEALTH INSURANCE.

33 Weeks Tomorrow

2009-04-20T16:06:00.000-05:00

You’ve heard it said that when it rains it pours, usually said in a negative tone as if pouring rain is always a tragedy of some sort. I don’t know about that, but I do feel drenched in this whole Gestational Diabetes* business. It’s all consuming, a pouring rain so to speak. The fun part is, everyone says “Don’t stress about it! It will just make things worse!” Right or wrong, this translates to an 8 month pregnant woman as, “Quit stressing! You are hurting your baby! This is all your fault!”

*I started to write “GD business” as the medical community is apt to do but thought better of it.

And yes, I know it’s not technically my fault. Lots of doctors and websites and friends and family have drilled this into my brain. But here’s the thing, this baby is living inside of me. And at the moment, my body (MY body) is warring against him. With that war comes guilt, no matter the source. Every time I jam a friendly needle into one of my sore fingers and the number comes back too high, I feel as if I’ve let Harry down. Let Ryan down. Let everyone down.

I’m not saying all of this to generate some sort of pity party, just to say this is tough. I’m trying to deal. We went to see the specialist on Friday to have an ultrasound and a consultation about The Sugars. (I think when all of this is over I may just stay mad at sugar indefinitely.) Right now Harry’s head and torso are measuring three weeks ahead. I’m not sure what that means but I know it’s not considered a blessing. Then we met with the doctor who said “if The Sugars don’t come down, we may need to admit you to the hospital.”

Umm.

Ok.

So you see, it’s difficult to remain carefree about anything at the moment. The hospital threat makes me think:
-Oh dear, I have to get everything wrapped up at work!
-Oh dear, do we have everything we need if he comes early?
-Oh dear, we need to meet with a pediatrician!
-Oh dear, we need to get the car seat in the car!
-Oh dear, I AM ABOUT TO HAVE A TINY HUMAN COME HOME TO LIVE WITH ME. FOREVER.

This weekend Ryan played the sound of a crying baby for Minnie to get used to the sound. The louder the cries got the flatter her ears got and she looked at us as if to say – are you kidding me with that?

If you could see me right now, my ears are SO flat.

Return of the Glam

2009-04-15T19:26:00.003-05:00

I'm coming out of hiding to declare the evils of Target Pharmacy!

That's not entirely true.

I'm coming out of hiding, yes, but it's more of a will to overcome. I didn't intend to abandon the blog and had plans to write about every pregnancy detail. I waited so long to become pregnant that I just knew I would want to commemorate every moment. Turns out I would rather forget most of the moments. Pregnancy, she has not been kind. So much so that I've had zero words for this blog, or more accurately, zero words that weren't AWFUL or TORTURE or HELL ON EARTH.

But ya'll, it's time to stop being polite. And start getting real.

Out of 32 weeks I've had maybe five days free of drama slash pain slash general horror. Of course there was the obligatory nausea and fatigue. Mood swings. Anxiety. Then at 23 weeks I had the standard glucose test given to all pregnant women. One quick swig of some orange soda substitute and a blood draw. A few days later my doctor called to say that my levels were "a bit high" and I would need to go to the hospital for a longer test. I said ok and dutifully arrived at Williamson Medical before the rooster crowed. The morning included Regis and Kelly, three blood draws and a violent reaction that had me puking into a trash can while the plebotomist rubbed a cold washcloth through my hair. The good news? I had to go back a week later and do it alllllll again. Second time was a charm in that I didn't puke but was a real kick in the pants in that yes, I have Gestational Diabetes.

This is where the pregnancy delights went to E-LEV-EN.

Basically, my placenta is a drama queen and overreacts with the hormones causing my insulin to go nuts. This is not good for baby. I was promptly sent to see a specialist, since I'm now considered High Risk, who told me all kinds of terrible things that could happen to the baby. He literally said to me "well now your risk of stillbirth is up 40%". WELL OK. Why don't you tell me how to fix this instead of telling me things that make me cry, hmmmm??? Then I was sent to a Dietician who informed me that food would become my enemy and I would now have to jam a needle in my finger four times a day.

Since the diagnosis I've been put on medication, had my dosage upped four times, been threatened that I may have to give myself insulin shots three times a day, made weekly visits to the specialist as well as weekly monitoring PLUS my regular OB visits, the challenge of figuring out the right combination for every meal and assigned snack all of which I must write down and fax to the Dietician once a week AND I didn't even get to eat dessert at my baby shower! Or any of the candy in my Easter basket!

But ok, so far Harry is doing great. And his safety and health is my #1 focus and the reason I'm doing all of this. Without him I would definitely fall off the diet wagon. Forget a pill or two. Not care. But because of him I'm Tyra Banks FIERCE about my diet and medication and doctor's visits and the whole lot.

And maybe that's why I've decided to write down the gory details. Because even though pregnancy has been difficult (understatement) and not what I had hoped for, this little guy who's currently kicking my bladder into oblivion is worth every case of scorching heartburn. Worth the finger pricks and "no thank you I can't eat that". Worth the drama and backaches and irritation.

And I cannot wait to meet him.

Choices

2009-02-24T19:12:00.000-06:00

Perspective

2009-02-02T19:01:00.003-06:00

Worldview:
-Economic meltdown
-A government so corrupt even Jack Bauer doesn't know what to do
-Olympic athletes hitting the bong
-A California woman gives birth to eight babies to get on Oprah
-Tainted peanut butter
-Ice storms
-6 more weeks of winter

Illingworth Manor View:
-Baby Harry is growing more and more which I feel in his daily kicks and wiggles
-We've paid off over half of our debt
-We both have jobs
-We have fantastic family that we love
-We have each other

Yeah.

Uhhhhh

2009-01-22T18:21:00.002-06:00

Can't.
Blog.
No.
Matter.
How.
Hard.
I.
Try.

And you'd think I'd have plenty to talk about seeing as how I'm 20 weeks pregnant and such. Especially since I had all these aspirations of blogging about my pregnancy for posterity and memories and whatever.

But.
No.

Introducing....

2009-01-09T09:24:00.002-06:00

Robert Harrison Illingworth!

We had our ultrasound yesterday and it was surreal seeing that little guy squirming and stretching and rolling and hiccuping. He's perfect and precious and should be making an appearance early June. The tech said he's measuring for a due date of June 9th - my 35th birthday.

And no, we couldn't be happier.

If Willie Were A Woman

2009-01-03T20:31:00.004-06:00

You're right, I should update with something. Anything. But I've been too busy mourning the death of my old laptop and crying at the price of the new laptop and eating leftovers and playing my new piano and sitting on the couch. I'm busy. But there is one thing I wanted to say.

To all the girls I've judged before, my humble apologies. When friends would tell me things like "pregnancy sucks" or "I hate being pregnant" or "I'm not sure I could go through this again" I would secretly judge them. How could you call a miracle something horrid! Pregnancy is a privilege! Get over yourself!

Oh naive GlamJo. If only I had known. And yes, pregnancy IS a miracle and a blessing and the greatest thing. But it's also constant heartburn. And gas. And psychotic mood swings that swing from hopelessness to rage within seconds. And extreme exhaustion. And tough.

But we find out who it is on Thursday.

Yay!

You May Think It's Too Early But We're Not The First (or the third) In Our Neighborhood

2008-11-24T09:32:00.003-06:00

Yesterday was the warmest day in the next little while so Ryan and I decided to get some things done. He climbed the roof while I untangled lights only to discover that half of our icicle roof lights were dead. So we went to Target (twice) and to Lowe's (once) and staked mini-Christmas trees and plugged in candles and fluffed up window wreaths and Ryan climbed the roof again only to discover some of the brand new lights we just bought were also dead and Ryan yelled from the rooftop while I unrolled rope lights and plugged in the snowman and tried to figure out the ten extension cords and which timer does this one go to and by the end of the whole ordeal we were both tired and hungry and irritable and bah humbug.

Just then our little neighbor boy ran outside and screamed at the top of his 3-year-old lungs:

"MOM!!!! LOOK!!!!! It's sooooooooo......BEAUTIFUL!!!!!!!!!"

So, totally worth it.

Some Things To Tell You

2008-11-15T18:42:00.002-06:00

#1 - We're having a baby.

#2 - I thought about telling you with a big post full of every detail and tiny moment but the whole thing is so overwhelming I couldn't think of one thing to say. So I posted a photo of the ultrasound and hit publish. It wasn't until later that I noticed the photo had completely taken over the blog. Appropriate since that little nugget has completely taken over my life.

#3 - Being pregnant is everything I was told it would be by countless (COUNTLESS) friends - only worse. And better. And also worse. I was prepared for the crazy fatigue, prepared for the moodiness. I was ready (I thought) for the nauseousness and the sore boobs. I was not, however, prepared for the constant nausea at level 10 that robbed me of my very will to live. No one told me I would have so much saliva in my mouth that anyone within ten feet of me would get a fresh spray, so much saliva that I choke on it. Which causes me to vomit. No one mentioned the horrific Swamp Mouth that absolutley nothing will cure. And most of all, NO ONE told me I would lose all desire for Mexican food. Ya'll, I love me some trashy Mexican. Only not right now, UGH. Even typing the words makes me a little queasy. I have zero control over my body. There is now a tiny little kumquat ordering me to eat every hour but only things that are bland or boring. If I dare waiver from Baby Illingworth's demands, there is hell to pay.

#4 - Something else no one warned me about, the breast exam at my first pre-natal visit. Here's the thing, if your breasts hurt so bad you can barely take a shower, you really don't want your OBGYN smashing and pressing and generaly making you scream in agony. It hurt.

#5 - But that ultrasound...oh the ultrasound. I was worried about having a Rachel Green moment and not being able to see the baby, but the second that image flashed on the screen I knew exactly what I was looking at - my little bean. And that's what it looked like, a kidney bean with a flashlight in the middle flashing at an alarming rate. It was both surreal and soothing. Unreal and so very real I burst into tears. It made all the pregnanacy horrors worth it. My baby. In me. Finally.

#6 - Baby Illingworth is due June 10th, one day after my birthday.

#7 - We're having a baby.

Illingworth Manor +1

2008-11-10T16:47:00.000-06:00

Happy Halloween

2008-10-30T19:38:00.002-05:00

Minnie says "Happy Halloween Ya'll!"

Ok, really she's saying "I'm going to kill you in your sleep."

Such a kidder!

Hope

2008-10-04T20:47:00.002-05:00

Oh October,

You're my favorite month, that's no secret. Over the years we've had some great times together. Remember 1994? Yeah I know, awesome. The point is, you've always come through for me, always provided tons of fun memories and laughs and cool weather and general goodness. You should know, 2008 has been kind of a jerk these past nine months spreading badness at every turn. And I'm talking real badness, not just "crap, my yogurt is expired" badness. But here we are, October, together again. I'm counting on you to turn this ship around, to be the friend you've always been. To spread the love.

Let's do this.

How to Dismantle a Birthday Cake: by Cute Niece Rachel

2008-09-26T20:40:00.002-05:00

On Gas

2008-09-22T15:38:00.003-05:00

Dear Nashville and surrounding areas,

Please calm down. The only reason there is a current gas crisis is because you, dear friend, are in a panicked panic running around filling buckets and travel coffee cups and trash cans and lawn mower gas cans with whatever gas you can find. I saw you at the Spring Hill Shell station, in your gold Lexus, filling as many gas cans as your spacious trunk would hold. It's your fault that my friends can't make it home from work. Please take a moment to step back from yourself and realize that we are all in this together. If you're out of gas, by all means, fill up. If you still have half a tank, take a deep breath and CHILL OUT. You're starting to get on my nerves.

Jo

P.S. If you do manage to find a working gas pump and choose to wait in the long line, here's a tip. Once you pump your precious gas PLEASE DRIVE AWAY FROM THE PUMP. Do not park your car in front of the only working gas pump in fifty miles, go inside the station and buy yourself a candy bar and a coke, take a bathroom break, buy a lottery ticket, and then stroll every so casually out to your car and finally drive away. The good people of Nashville cannot be held responsible for what happens to you.

I Love This Guy

2008-09-20T21:45:00.001-05:00

Because I Have A Life, That's Why

2008-09-17T22:19:00.002-05:00

TV shows I obsess over and must watch the day they air:
Lost
Heroes
Project Runway
The Office
Fringe
24

TV shows I tivo and am excited to watch:
Biggest Loser
Grey's Anatomy
American Idol
30 Rock
Private Practice
Mad Men
Samantha Who?
American Gladiators
Top Chef
Chuck
Flipping Out
Rob & Big
Jon & Kate Plus 8
Pushing Daisies

TV shows I tivo and might watch if I have time but sometimes I don't:
Ace of Cakes
House
Oprah
Ellen
Man vs. Wild
The Soup
Best Week Ever
Ice Road Truckers
Hell's Kitchen

TV shows I tivo but I don't want you to know that I do:
The Bachelor
America's Next Top Model
Rock of Love
Dancing With the Stars

TV shows I HATE and ABHOR and IRRITATE ME SO but somehow I continue to watch no matter how many times I declare that never again shall I watch:
The Hills

Hit Me Baby One More Time

2008-09-11T21:29:00.001-05:00

In a recent fit of trying to be nice a friend said to me, “Try not to think about it!” She was referring to babies, of course. I smiled and said OK. Then the following true story happened:

I spent the weekend attending a one-year-old birthday party complete with pregnant party goers, the third such party in several weeks. Then Monday I got to work and opened two emails from friends containing cute photos of their cute babies. Then an IM popped up on my screen with a cute icon – baby photo. Then I went to lunch with a friend and her cute-as-a-button baby. While we were chatting another friend came by to say hi…with her brand new baby. After lunch I got another email chock full of precious little baby photos when my phone rang – pregnant co-worker asking if I remembered something she couldn’t remember since she was having a “pregnant moment”.

The six o’clock bell couldn’t come soon enough.

That night I decided to watch Medical Mysteries on TLC, sure that it would be safe. Baby free. Turns out it was about a woman trying to get pregnant. I sighed and channel surfed stopping on a TBS re-run of Sex and the City thinking Yes! These women are never going to be talking about or having babies! Turns out Carrie had a pregnancy scare. I watched long enough to see a commercial for First Response HPT and the release of Baby Mama on DVD before I looked for something new to occupy my cluttered thoughts. I found an old episode of Will & Grace on Lifetime and new I was home free! Finally a baby free moment! Turns out Grace was knocked up and Karen was jealous so she hired the make-up counter girl to be her surrogate.

My friend was right. Maybe I should try not to think about it.

Baby.

I Cannot

2008-09-09T13:54:00.002-05:00

Weld
Launch a boat
Watch the Olympics without crying
Drive an 18 wheeler
Skip a meal
Turn a cartwheel
Play the banjo
Surf
Concentrate
Style my hair
Do sushi
Dance
Play chess
Speak Maltese
Pee standing up
Own a cat
Wait

Even Though Tomorrow I'll Change My Mind

2008-09-04T17:27:00.001-05:00

On the way home tonight I pass by a champagne colored, 90s-ish, Buick/Chevy/sedan/something driven by a tense looking young woman. The car and the young woman are entirely forgettable except for all the I'm Sorrys - bright orange I'm Sorrys written on every window. Nothing more, just I'm Sorry over and over. Obviously a desperate (and no doubt unwelcome) attempt at an apology from what I presume is now an ex-boyfriend. I imagine this outburst was preceded by hundreds of unreturned emails, phone calls and texts. There were probably a few late night visits to her door. Maybe even some calls to her best friend to plead his case. Obviously the young woman wouldn't hear it. Wouldn't answer. She's deleted him from her iPhone, her email contacts and her Facebook. She is DONE with him. So he steps it up a notch, or fifty. He forces her to deal with him by painting her car with his grief, splashing his desperation publicly and maybe even permanently. She's humiliated. When she walked out of work to go home the words burned into her, twisting the pain deeper, and now she's driving straight to the car wash hoping for washable bright orange paint. He doesn't know it yet but this last ditch effort has merely driven her further away from him.

I smirk thinking only an idiot would go to such lengths. Thinking there's no way such desperation could ever win her back. Duh. She's strong and confident. She knows she deserves better. But as I drive, my thoughts towards him begin to soften. This poor guy is trying to make amends. Trying to move forward. Trying to heal something terribly broken. No matter what went wrong, he’s trying to make it right.

He is sorry.

My old self has started quietly resurfacing - scattered emails from fans of my first book, old friends who ask what I'm working on these days, questions about my "writing career" (ha!) and what my new book is about. I usually stutter and stammer and say something sarcastic, unsure of how to respond, how to explain these past few years in a casual reply. The only thing that comes to mind is I'm Sorry.

I'm Sorry to my old life, the life where the words flowed out of me. Back when I had something to say. Back when my general disposition was hilariousness and fun. Back when I was on the brink of being a real writer.

I'm Sorry that I lost my publishing deal and then sort of drifted for a while. I'm Sorry I wasn't able to get my crap together. Sorry that my blog is boring. Sorry I don't write hilarious and poignant words that continue to get better instead of slowly getting worse.

But before I take a spray paint can to my heart and declare that GEEZ I'M SORRY ALREADY, I have an announcement.

I'm.
Not.
Sorry.

Sure, my life hasn't gone the way I believed it would and, dare I say it, maybe not even the way it should have gone. Things have happened that have stunned me silent. The course of my life shifted and I never did regain my balance. I’ve blathered on and on about some of these things to no end. No real writing, just a general “life sucks” every couple weeks. But all in all, I’m still here. I've survived. Am surviving.

And I've decided that I'm not going to care anymore. I’m not going to care what the words are; just let them come as they will. I’m going to read again without the pressure to write. Write again without the pressure to perform. Be who I am instead of worrying about who I could have been.

Show Me That Smile Again

2008-08-23T20:34:00.002-05:00

So you remember that I recently caught our backyard neighbors celebrating their marital love in their hot tub. I was walking Minnie Dog after work one hot afternoon when I heard a strange splashing sound and wouldn't you know it, Big Al and Mrs. Big Al were participating in some afternoon/early evening delight. It was that day that I told Ryan I didn't care how much it cost, we were getting a privacy fence.

Since the privacy fence has been in place, things have been glorious. I have heard strange splashings, but the point is that I haven't had to SEE anything. My retinas are no longer subject to being burned by the vision of Al's back hair waving in the evening breeze.

Cut to tonight and the annual company picnic at the Nashville Sounds baseball game. Ryan was working so I went to the picnic solo. By the time I left it was dark and the Sounds stadium isn't in the safest of neighborhoods and my car was parked in the back 40 of the furthest parking lot from the back of the last aisle way in the back. It was far. As I walked through the rows of cars listening for any sounds other than the crunch of gravel under my flip-flops, singing the theme song to Growing Pains in my head, I saw them.

Two teenagers.
In the back of a pick-up truck.
Doing things teenagers shouldn't be doing.

People, I can't put a privacy fence around my face.

Miss Manners

2008-08-21T20:27:00.000-05:00

What’s the etiquette when running into your gastrointernologist at the Costco gas station? There he is, wearing his doctor scrubs and his gold nugget bracelet, gasing up his Porsche, probably just back from peering into some poor sap’s colon with his mile long scope of death. Do you walk over and say hello? Maybe show him your backside so he recognizes you?
Hey Dr. King! How’s business? Seen any ulcerative colitis lately? Colon cancer on the rise? What’s that? You haven’t seen any colons as nice as mine? Oh Dr. King, you charmer! We should have you over for a BBQ!

Omen

2008-08-13T11:12:00.002-05:00

You know it's going to be a good day when the lawn mower dies, the rear tires on your car are "dangerously bald, seriously, I'm surprised you're still alive", the DVD player dies and one of the posts on your brand new fence is cracked and leaning causing the gate to bend. Oh, and also, you discover that you accidentally wore a "hootchie" shirt to work.

Good times.

Wii Fit: A Conversation

2008-08-11T19:56:00.004-05:00

Wii Fit Board: Oh my, hello there!

Me: Here we go.

WFB: It's Jo, right? I almost forgot, it's been so long!

Me: I know, I've been pretty busy.

WFB: Busy doing what, ordering Value Meal #2 every day?

Me: NO! I've just had a lot going on.

WFB: My, my, you must have! You know, the best way to lose weight is to exercise every day!

Me: Yeah, I know. I've had a lot of stuff going on. Stuff! A lot of stuff!

WFB: I can hardly imagine! The fall TV lineup hasn't started yet, what else is it that you do exactly? I know! How about a quick body test?

Me: Fine.

(I step onto the board which subsequently winces.)

WFB: You've gained weight! Big surprise! Did you know that overeating and no exercise leads to weight gain! How about a fitness tip?

Me: Oh brother, here we go...

WFB: If you want to lose weight, try not to eat so many cookies. Since you're so fat, how about another fitness tip?

Me: Why not, I still have one small shred of dignity left.

WFB: If you don't want people to see you and think they've seen a beached whale, try to eat a vegetable for once! How about another fitness tip?

Me: Look, Wii, I've had a lot going on. I told you. A LOT. I've had things going on that would put hair on your board. Get off my back already.

WFB: Here's a fitness tip, maybe if you carried me around on your back you could lose some of that disgusting fat you have there! How about another fitness tip?

Me: HOW ABOUT I BREAK YOU IN HALF?

WFB: Ok, Jo! Of course, that would require some muscle strength and you don't have any! How about another fitness tip?

Me: HOW ABOUT I HATE YOU AND SHUT-UP RIGHT NOW.

WFB: Ok, Jo! Of course, seething with rage isn't really considered a form of exercise. How about another fitness tip?

Me: .....................

WFB: Picking up a fork is not considered a form of exercise. How about another fitness tip?

Me: WHY I OUGHTA....

WFB: You really oughta think about trying to put the French fries down before you become an unrecognizable blob! How about another fitness tip?

Me: .....................

WFB: Are you still there, Jo? Waiting around won't help that fat go away! How about another fitness tip?

Me:......................

WFB: Oh no, it seems the fat has rendered you speechless!

Me: Well this was fun. I'm gonna go....eat some cookies.

Reason #2

2008-08-05T15:17:00.003-05:00

Reason #2 Why I Love Ryan Illingworth:

Because even when I'm being unreasonable and sad and irrational and weeping and silent. Even when I'm inconsolable and irritated. Even when I make it worse. Even when the reason for our sadness is ultimately my fault. Even when hopelessness is whistling through the cracks in my heart so loudly passers by are stopping to stare. Even then. Without hesitation, he says...you're perfect.

The Post Where I Review Dark Knight

2008-07-24T16:58:00.001-05:00

A.
Maz.
Ing.

and now...Five Reasons To Move To Kentucky

2008-07-23T20:18:00.002-05:00

Don't Read This If You Are Afraid of Grease and Goodness

2008-07-22T10:38:00.002-05:00

Several folks have asked me about the bacon wraps featured at The Illingworth Fourth of July Extravaganza. I stole the recipe from The Pioneer Woman but I will list it for you here since I'm a giver. It's so easy even a monkey could do it. Or your husband!

Ingredients:
Club Crackers
Thin-Sliced Bacon
Parmesan Cheese

(Yes really, that's it)

Instructions:
-Open up the package of bacon and slice it down the middle, Moses style.
-Take a Club Cracker and dump 1 teaspoon of Parmesan Cheese on it.
-Wrap one half slice of bacon around the cracker securely.
-Place assembled crackers on a baking sheet with a rack*.
-Bake at 250 for 1 hour and 45 minutes. The Pioneer Woman says to bake them for 2 hours but that was too long for me and mine.
-Prepare for greatness.
-In the event that other people are around when you make these, prepare to run out.
-Also, prepare for them to talk about these weeks later and say things like "I only got one of those bacon things! Why didn't you make more of those! When are you making more of the bacon things?" as happened to me this weekend.
-Also, wear elastic waist pants when eating.

*I did not have something as fancy as a baking sheet with a rack so I put my assembled crackers on a cookie cooling rack on a cookie sheet. Innovation!

For a full recipe with helpful photos, see The Pioneer Woman. That is a link directly to the bacon wraps but I must tell you, I've made quite a few of her recipes and they are always fabulous. In fact, because of her, lots of people think I'm a great cook.

Mmmmmm, bacon.

Why Yes, A New Post! Rub Your Eyes and It Will Still Be Here!

2008-07-18T20:30:00.002-05:00

So, some things have happened.

THE FOURTH
The Fourth of July was celebrated in spectacular style at Illingworth Manor. Partly because it marked year three of Illingworth Wedded Bliss and partly because we had a wild party complete with family members and fireworks. I made a ridiculous feast from scratch that was a bit ambitious but also delicious. It included these bacon wraps:

...which very nearly caused my brother-in-law to kiss me on the mouth.

I also made this:

...which can only be described as THE CAKE. Because I made it from scratch. If you're not familiar with the term "scratch" it means three hours of hard labor that result in lower back pain, sore feet, a sweaty brow and the inability to interact with your party people. But also, cute. And delicious.

I made some other stuff too but Ryan was in charge of the camera and was quite selective in what he deemed photo worthy. We have lots of shots of nothing, his thumb, my cute niece not looking at the camera and carpet. But the party was super fun and worth the effort.

ALSO, THE FOURTH
Since we were having a party on the actual 4th, Ryan took me to an anniversary dinner a few days before. And if you've read this blog for any length of time, you know that I adore Ryan to a sickening point. But I'll tell you, at our anniversary dinner he surprised me yet again. You see Ryan isn't one to remember the details. At this moment he couldn't tell you one piece of clothing I own besides "jeans". But while we were sitting at The Cheesecake Factory scanning the menu book of dreams, Ryan casually mentioned the first time we ate a Cheesecake Factory together. And I was stunned because it was a moment I had to think about to remember. A moment that happened before we got together or hung out. A moment before The Kiss. But he remembered. And I gotta say, lately I've been swallowed whole by marriages breaking up around me. And crumbling. And spontaneously combusting. And shattering into a million unrecognizable pieces. And it's shaken me up a little bit...or, a lot. But no matter what is happening around us, I know that for me there are no other fish. He still makes my knees tremble at just the right moments.

SOME GOOD THINGS
-Dolly Parton is singing the new theme song for Target commercials. And I thought I couldn't love Target more! Ya'll, if they bring their return policy up to Bed Bath and Beyond standards I might just move in!
-Last night my friend Angela was telling a funny story from her younger days when she paused to say, "Bless My Heart". Could NOT love her more.
-Illingworth Manor is now surrounded by a hot-tub-blocking privacy fence. Seeing Minnie frolic freely makes it worth every hard earned dollar.
-I was in Orlando on business this week and rode the hotel elevator 24 floors with Kirk Cameron. Just me and him. Me and Mike Seaver, hanging out. I RODE THE ELEVATOR WITH KIRK CAMERON!

SOME BAD THINGS
-While on the 24 Floor Ride with Mike Seaver (the one celebrity whose poster hung on my teenage wall) I didn't say one word. Even when he told me he hoped I felt better soon, I giggled nervously and looked at the floor. HE talked to ME and I said NOTHING.
-I've been sick for the past week with a horrible congestion/sinus/throat plague. On my flight to Orlando I was pretty sure my right eyeball was going to shoot out of my eye socket, never to return.
-While in Orlando I'm pretty sure a 22-year-old blatantly hit on me. Even though I'm married. And I was sick. And grouchy. And totally uncharming and weathered and weary and just plain yuck. I told Ryan about it, confused how someone could (at that moment) find me remotely attractive, and he said YOU'RE A FOX! Now that I think about it, maybe I should have listed this in the batch of Good Things.
-I've been considering hosting a funeral for my creativity. It's been missing for so long no one's even looking for it anymore. The posters I hung around town are now covered up with ads for yard sales and carpooling options.

EDWARD CULLEN
If you've been living under a rock then you might not know about the Twilight book series from Stephanie Meyer. It's a Young Adult series about love and vampires. And I have become completely obsessed. I can't say much more about it for fear of not being able to stop. I LOVE THESE BOOKS. I talk about Edward the Vampire so much Ryan is starting to become jealous. As he should...even Perfect Ryan cannot compete with a romantic vampire.

Also, we're going to see The Dark Knight Sunday night. And tomorrow we're going to see Addison for her one year birthday. These two things should contribute to more Good Things.

Amen.

Because I Love You

2008-07-02T12:04:00.003-05:00

...and because watching this video made me laugh SO HARD that several people came to make sure I was ok. And breathing. And I was neither. All the laughs that 2008 has robbed from me came SHOOTING out of my body when I watched this video.

It's funny, is what I'm saying.

Reason #46

2008-06-26T10:57:00.002-05:00

Reason #46 Why I Love Ryan Illingworth

Me: RYAN!I just got an email from (insert name here) that said, "So! Are you and Ryan planning on having a little baby soon?"

Ryan: Well, maybe I should just burn her house down and then say, "So! Are you getting a new house soon?"

Wii've Missed You!

2008-06-25T20:06:00.003-05:00

The Wii Fit is bound and determined to drive me to drink....high calorie soft drinks. If I miss one stinking day Wii scolds me in a cheery tone reminiscent of the southern belle "bless your heart" nicety-fake-nice-ness. Hi Jo! I missed you yesterday! Were you too busy to work out? You know, the best way to lose weight is to work out every day!

YEAH.

I GET IT.

SHUT-UP.

But I gotta say, never in my life have I been so motivated by someone so condescending. But the more Wii Fit beats me up, the more I want to prove it wrong. I'm not a loser! I can stick with it! I can do the Warrior Pose and hit soccer balls with my head and hula hoop for six minutes straight! The more Wii Fit taunts me the more I want to work-out. When the virtual trainer says "your legs are shaking!" I will do whatever it takes to make her happy. When she claps and praises me I blush and feel like a champ.

Nintendo has finally cornered the market on mind control and I am but a robot doing whatever my virtual trainer tells me to do.

Alice over at Finslippy said it way better than I ever will. (Read her hilarious thoughts here.)

........................wait......what?

2008-06-18T20:36:00.002-05:00

My friend Heather has recently taught me about The Slow Drift. She’s young and fun and tends to attract That Guy. You know That Guy. He’s the one you meet at a party or at a movie with friends and you immediately think he’s nice or sweet. You laugh at his jokes. You think he’s cool. But then the third or fourth time you bump into That Guy it becomes clear that he’s into you. Like, into you. And you don’t want to be mean. Don’t want to hurt him. In fact, you really do want to be friends! Thus begins The Slow Drift, that subtle nuance that women are born with and men cannot seem to grasp no matter how many times we explain it.

Step 1: He calls and you talk for a few minutes. You remain friendly, but breezy.
Step 2: He calls and you don't answer.
Step 3: He calls and you don't answer.
Step 4: He calls and you still don't answer.
Step 5: He sees you out with another guy and begins to wonder if something is up.

There are more steps but I don't know them all. I probably drifted off when Heather was explaining them. I think the summary is basically ignoring and using blatant silence to send a message that you are not interested. And you know...I was all set to write a riveting post tonight filled with hilarious observations and insights and stories and...stuff. But then I blanked out in front of a bad episode of Wife Swap. Kinda like on my way home when suddenly I found myself turning into my neighborhood, unable to remember the drive home. Sorta like when I zoned out during the four hour meeting at work today.

Apparently I'm trying to send my life a message that I'm not interested in a serious relationship.

Future So Bright

2008-06-13T09:11:00.002-05:00

This morning while I was drying my hair and thinking about my imaginary children (hi kids!) I realized that they could potentially live to see the year 3000. And I thought about what that will be like and thought surely they would have flying cars by then and probably a personal robot and best of all, could work from home.

And then I realized that I'm not very good at math.

Hello World, I'm 34

2008-06-09T18:00:00.002-05:00

Today is my birthday. And things around here haven't been awesome, that's no secret. This particular birthday has hit me much harder than I was prepared for....and I wouldn't say it's been a great day. But I don't care about the obvious. So, in honor of today, I will now attempt to list 34 things that make me happy. Take that 34!

34. Milkshakes.
33. Blockbuster online.
32. Tina Fey and Amy Poehler.
31. Grilling out at Illingworth Manor.
30. Tivo'd episodes of The Hulk - seventies style.
29. Nieces.
28. Seeing the look on a new friend's face when they learn I was in the handbell choir.
27. Growing my own flowers.
26. The Wii.
25. And Wii Fit.
24. And Dr. Mario on the Wii.
23. And a husband who introduces me to such things.
24. Edy's Slow Churned.
23. Time off.
22. Friends who get it.
21. Minnie Dog chasing flies.
20. Buying in bulk.
19. Loose fat jeans.
18. Coke Zero.
17. Ryan's laugh.
16. Happy Birthday voicemails.
15. Ryan's giftwrapping skills.
14. The new privacy fence.
13. That 2008 is half over.
12. Vacation anticipation.
11. Gift Cards.
10. Family.
9. Super Target down the street.
8. Strawberry Lemonade
7. Cheetos - all natural.
6. Hugs.
5. Air conditioning.
4. Having enough.
3. Hope, even in the midst of extreme heartache.
2. Love, even when I'm hard to be with.
1. Ryan.

I cried a lot this weekend. Cried a lot today. But I know this is only a season, only a blip in what I hope is a long and happy life. And truly, I'm much more than a number. Much more than 34. I'm Thirty Fortunate.

Signs

2008-06-06T19:57:00.005-05:00

#1 - I can't seem to watch anything but Top Chef without crying. Seems like every movie, TV show, infomercial and dirty reality farce has some sort of baby storyline aimed directly at my ovaries.

#2 - A year ago my sister-in-law gave me a bracelet that had gotten her through some "will it ever happen for me" roughness. It's a silver link bracelet inscribed with the verse from Matthew that says "Ask and Ye Shall Receive". It was an amazingly thoughtful gesture and I immediately put it around the gear shift in my car so I would see it every day, partly for the message and mostly to remember that there are those who understand. And who love me. This afternoon I got into my car to leave work and noticed that the links were scattered around the gear shift. Apparently the interior bands holding the links together had dissolved into nothingness. And ok, it's been hot lately. Sure, it's been so hot my flip-flops have nearly melted while watering my roses. Yes, it's been August-in-Miami, seventh-level-of-hell, Graham-from-The-Bachelorette HOT. But. I had no idea it was hot enough to melt wishes and dreams.

#3 - I ran into an old (and dear!) friend at Costco with her gorgeous (gorgeous!) 3 year old daughter. Upon seeing me, her daughter said, "Where's your baby?"

Where indeed.

Yet Another Reason

2008-05-27T17:32:00.002-05:00

Old Life Motto: Don’t Go In The Water.

New Life Motto: Don’t Sleepwalk In Homes That Feature Sharks As Wall Art

British Teen Suffers Painful Shark Attack in His Bedroom

Tuesday, May 27, 2008

One unlucky British teen suffered a painful shark attack without ever going near the water. In fact, he was bitten in the face by one of the sharp-fanged animals in his own bedroom, Metro.co.uk reported.

The “attack” happened at 14-year-old Sam Hawthorne’s home in Dudley, England.

Hawthorne was sleepwalking when the teeth of a dead souvenir shark from a family vacation, that hangs on the wall of his nautical-themed bedroom, became embedded in his face.

The teeth left blood pouring from the teen’s face, his mother, Susan, told Metro.co.uk.

“It was like something out of a horror film,” she said. “The shark must have been embedded in Sam's cheek for about 15 minutes and he was in a lot of pain.”

In the end, Hawthorne came away with only a small scar. “It was the most frightening experience of my life,” he told Metro.co.uk.

Ya'll, seriously. As if I didn't have enough to worry about.

Blank

2008-05-21T22:30:00.003-05:00

Today was full of tears. And sadness. Not all of it was personal Jo sadness, but sadness nonetheless. At the end of the day we got news that a friend lost his daughter in an accident. Words don't really seem to suffice. I can't seem to think of anything else to say.

The Apocolypse Can't Be Far Behind

2008-05-20T19:41:00.003-05:00

I've joined Twitter. Please don't ask me what it is because I don't really know much more than that it's a way to bore you even further with my inane drivel. Now on your cell!

My first Twitter is about nachos, natch. Foreshadowing! Beware!

P.S. Are you Twittering? Better yet, is Twittering a word? Sounds like something my HR department would classify as sexual harrassment. Inappropriate or not, if you're doing it let me know so we can...do whatever it is. Together. Like friends, or something.

If At First You Don't Succeed

2008-05-17T21:29:00.002-05:00

So it's nearly June and we're all wondering if things are going to get better. If the Great Shift of 2008 is ever going to happen. If grey skies are gonna clear up, or something. I can say, a new Lost episode certainly helps matters. Although now I'm all HOW IS HE GOING TO MOVE THE ISLAND every other minute.

Oh yeah, and three more people are pregnant. This should not come as a surprise. It's been raining babies since December 2006. Since then I've had seventeen (or is it eighteen? nineteen?) babies come into my life. And I'm only counting friends, not all the babies I know about. My fridge looks like the bulletin board at my gynecologist's office - here a baby, there a baby, everywhere a FREAKING BABY. But I do love them, the babies. Each one of them is special to me and precious and I would never wish them to be anything different than exactly what they are...or where...or when, specifically. I'm not (exactly) jealous of my friends and their babies. Not harboring resentment towards my nieces. Have nothing but total love for each gurgle and new tooth. Love to see them. Love to hold them. Love to babysit. Love to get new photos for my fridge/wall of babies.

But it's hard.

Everyone I know (yes, EVERYONE) seems to be getting on with it. Starting families. Having their second or third or fourth baby. Meanwhile I'm here hanging out with Madam Vaginismus and her violent mood swings. She's mean, that one. You never know what she wants, never can seem to appease her. One day you think you've got her figured out, think you can finally be friends. Then suddenly she flies into a rage worthy of an Oscar nomination. But you're not applauding.

And it's becoming harder not to talk about it. I've reached an age and a point in my marriage where casual friends and co-workers are starting to ask the inevitable. So when are you guys going to have kids? Are you trying?

I hate that phrase..."trying". The polite way to ask if you're having sex ten days after your period. What do you want from me, a schedule? A flow chart of my flow chart and if I'm ovulating and how often my husband and I...try? There's no other moment in life when people so freely ask about your most personal. When did it become ok to ask this? To assume that trying is easy? And for some of my friends it is that easy. Their husbands give them "the look" and suddenly they see two pink lines instead of one. They say "we didn't even try!" and giggle as if we're all part of the inside joke.

If only.

Moral of the Story

2008-05-14T13:49:00.002-05:00

I just had an email conversation with Kelley that ended with me saying this:

"It's never ok to eat fish at 10am no matter WHAT the cleaning crew did in your office last night."

Folks, the rest of the week is going to have a tough time coming up with something better than that. Wednesday wins.

What Is This, the Bachelor?

2008-05-13T19:24:00.003-05:00

In the spirit of giving, Ryan and I decided to christen our new grill tonight. Nevermind the fact that we got it for Christmas and haven't used it yet. Or the fact the neither of us have ever technically used a grill before. How hard can it be? You put some meat on and flip it a few times. It's not often Ryan and I get to spend the evening together what with him working nights and me days so we were both pretty excited about the whole Grill Out Extravaganza.

Except.

Remember last summer when I told you about my neighbors? The ones with the above ground pool? The ones with the backyard that connects to Illingworth Manor? The ones who were DOING IT (yes, it) in the pool while I was trying to walk Minnie Dog like a normal person?

They recently upgraded.

To a hot tub.

That they were in.

Tonight.

During the Grill Out Extravaganza.

Here's the thing. I don't find it particularly appetizing to see Neighbor Al with his back hair blowing in the evening breeze. Not even a citronella candle can cover up that mess.

If you would like to donate to the Illingworth Manor Privacy Fence, we accept.

P.S. In the spirit of fairness (cause today we're all about the spirit and being in it) I should tell you that Ryan just pointed out that the neighbors are probably right this second thinking "OH SURE! The FIRST NIGHT we get our sexy new hot tub THEY decide to suddenly USE THEIR GRILL and HANG OUT OUTSIDE even though they haven't used their porch in the ENTIRE THREE YEARS they have lived here. THAT'S IT! WE ARE GETTING A PRIVACY FENCE!" The neighbors, they like to talk in all caps while soaking inappropriately.

It starts with THE because there's only one

2008-05-11T15:26:00.002-05:00

While in the meat section of The Super Target a desperate woman ambushes me from behind and whispers one inch from my ear "Have you EVER bought meat here?" as if the very idea of buying meat from Target will cause a third eye to sprout from her toddler's forehead and DCS to come a knockin'. I say "...Yes?"

Also, I grew these! (The roses, not the neices.)

This Time You've Gone Too Far

2008-05-09T17:51:00.003-05:00

2008,

So it's May now and we're almost half-way through our tumultuous relationship. Is it a relationship? It feels more like being in front of a firing squad of sloppy drunks - lots of bullets flying around with most of them hitting me right where it hurts. I thought that by now you would be out of ammunition. Over it. Done with the whole Worst Year Ever campaign. But, no. Since I last wrote to you I've had a friend lose her father, a friend's boyfriend lose his mother in a tragic car accident, friends and family whose divorce proceedings have gotten ugly - real ugly. Several....(sigh).....

Look. I'm not even going to go into because you already know. It's been bad.

Oh sure, there have been some happy moments. Some laughs. I've even thought about talking about some of those rare happy moments here on the ole' blog but right as I'm about to hit "publish" you go and screw everything up. What is your deal?

And sure, I'm trying to rise above it. Trying to ignore you and your evil ways. Trying to focus on the positive and all that crap. Trying to muddle through. But this time, you've gone and done something I cannot forgive. Something so heinous I wonder if I should even speak it into existence. Something so harsh, so hurtful, so DEVASTATING that I'm not even sure I can continue this relationship. You have been very, very bad.

Don't shrug your shoulders at me. I've got you this time. There's no other explanation for this atrocity other than your downright lack of common decency.

LAST NIGHT DURING WHAT I'M SURE WAS AN AMAZING LOST EPISODE YOU SEVERED MY CABLE CONNECTION.

How could you stoop so low? You almost made Ryan cry for Locke's sake.

It's inexcusable.
Reprehensible.

I officially, without question, hate your guts.

Regards,
Jo

Can't Stop

2008-04-28T21:31:00.002-05:00

Eating Doritos
Watching Samantha Who (seriously? LOVE it)
Coughing
Wearing flip-flops even though there's a freeze tonight
Wearing black and grey
Texting (what am I, twelve?)
Watching Rob & Big
Mourning the loss of Rob & Big
Telling Tivo to NEVER delete my episodes of Rob & Big
Wishing Rob & Big lived on my street
Wondering how the heck I'll get it all done
Yawning
Thinking about my mid-thirties
Missing my nieces
Caring Less
Drinking Diet A&W Root Beer
Fearing the election
Fearing the inevitable
Wishing Ryan and I had the same schedule
Hoping

PSA

2008-04-27T12:36:00.002-05:00

If I'm sitting in the Walgreens Pharmacy waiting area sporting greasy hair and yesterday's clothes barely able to sit up in my chair from the sheer agony of my closed nostrils and burning throat of fire and I'm forced to listen to the Walgreens Pharmacy DVD where Dr. Lisa keeps telling me over and over how to take prescriptions properly and the only thing I care about is GETTING my prescription so I can go home and die...

And if you're a ten year old boy wearing Husky jeans and mustard on your face and one million questions What's That! Who's That! Where's That! How's That! and constantly touching the condom packages with the questions and shouting and your two brothers who are equally as husky and annoying are hovering and touching me and stopping and starting the DVD and jumping on the chairs and complaining and coughing and causing me to think the prescription isn't worth it and I should just leave and risk dying...

Please do not sit next to me.

Thank You Please

2008-04-15T20:19:00.002-05:00

You know you're at a classic Chinese dive when you bite into the "Oreo Fluff" and it's straight up Cool Whip with crushed up generic chocolate sandwich cookies mixed in.

Warning: Obvious Observations Ahead

2008-04-11T22:06:00.003-05:00

This week 2008 has done an amazing job letting me know that I am in complete control.

Of.
Absolutely.
Nothing.

It's funny really. Right about the moment I think that things in life are starting to make sense, starting to flow, I'm sucker punched with NO! You know NOTHING! You control NADA! (Yes, 2008 is bilingual. So annoying.)

But honestly, the lack of control has little to do with the ultimate battle. It's really about the colorful displays of pure UGH currently being hurled in every direction, touching nearly everyone I know and care about. These past 92 days (and nights!) 2008 has dished out more than I care to take. Divorce. Cancer. Job loss. Financial struggle. Death. Fertility drama. Sickness. Betrayal. Depression. Through it all I've been reminded that you can never assume anything. Lately my friends have been a daily dose of pure wow - dealing with things that would split me in half. Some of them have faced their demons with an obvious false bravado, losing before the game even comes out of the box. Others have been plugging along - almost flying below the radar. But as each day passes their quiet strength becomes more and more evident. All of them impress me, no matter how they handle the pressure. They're despondent but full of hope. Careful while careless. Mature and impossibly childish. Totally broken and fiercely unbreakable - all at once.

The other day a friend (who's having a particularly heinous go of it lately) said to me, "I've prayed it all. I've said every prayer you can say, done everything I can do. I give up. God's going to do what God's going to do." I think a lot of us feel this way. It's hard to wait for rain when you're stranded in the desert. Hard to trust the future, to leave it in God's hands, when today feels like forever.

Bottom line is that no matter what we're all still here. And He's still here. Whether or not things get better. Knowing full well that they may not. Are we frazzled, yes. Tossed to and fro to the point of exhaustion, sure. Over it, absolutely. But we're still here. Seeing the daily struggles my friends are facing, and walking through it with them, has been nothing but encouraging to me. I've had the opportunity to see the many layers stripped away, public inhibitions abandoned, lifelong insecurities ignored, to see the real depth. And I'm learning that every single person has more to offer than you'd expect. And sometimes it's scary...sometimes pretty ugly....often times inspiring. But always...ALWAYS surprising.

And I love surprises.

Mama Said There'd Be Days Like This

2008-04-08T21:47:00.002-05:00

Me and Ryan

Watching The Biggest Loser

On a giant flat screen

In Burger King

Eating onion rings

Why We Are Kindreds

2008-04-06T19:11:00.002-05:00

"On the plane ride to Heaven there will be an endless loop of Lost episodes...and the headphones will be free!"
-Kelley Kirker

Thanks A Lot Oprah

2008-04-04T16:02:00.002-05:00

Ok. Did you watch Oprah yesterday? DID YOU? I mean.......

.........................

......

Ummmmm.

All I can say it this.

It's official. Everyone, EVERYONE, is pregnant but me.

....but it's enough

2008-03-29T22:06:00.002-05:00

Even though I'm probably the last person on earth I finally watched the fabulous Irish film Once. I'm pretty sure it made my heart seep out of my eyes and my ears. So much so that after the credits rolled I watched it again a second time making Ryan watch with me. Proof that there are good moments left for us all. That music does still have the power to transcend. That there's movement left in this empty heart of mine.

The Title of This Post is PBBBBBBTTTTTT

2008-03-27T20:35:00.003-05:00

Ya'll, seriously.

I'm a little tired of the whole "I Hate 2008" campaign I have going on here. I've been working up the nerve to write a post about how things are on the up. I've lost 5.5 pounds (P.S. the hardest 5.5 pounds I've ever lost in my 33 years), I spent Saturday with some of the best women I know - women who knew me when and know me now and love me anyhow (is that a country song?), I got to adequately squeeze both of my cute cute cute nieces, Rob & Big, Tim Gunn getting weepy on The Biggest Loser, spring, reaching goals at work (and surpassing!) and maybe some other stuff. I even thought things might be changing...thought I might actually invite 2008 to movie night and see how things go.

But.

No.

No, no, no. And that's the thing with 2008. He's a crafty devil, smacking me upside the head with juicy badness at the exact moment I decide to let my guard down. Rendering me (and my blog) a lifeless heap.

2008, listen up. Quit playing games with my heart.

Or else.

A Willing Subject

2008-03-21T11:28:00.003-05:00

Ryan has never been much of a tech guy and is generally far behind the trends that even soccer moms have moved on from using. Before me, he thought iPods were useless and Tivo was a brand of TV dinners. For the longest time Ryan has had the most ghetto cell phone ever. The only bell and whistle it possessed was the ability to make calls without a phone cord. No camera, no video, no color, etc.... I could care less but Ryan's lack of updated phone technology was a huge embarrassment for his hi-tech friends. Recently one of his friends upgraded and decided to give Ryan his "old" phone. A phone that's so "old" and "out of date" that all it does is take photos and videos and has a texting keyboard and ringtones galore and can probably do your taxes if asked nicely. Now everyday Ryan plays me a new ringtone he's downloaded or specialized text message alarm or voicemail beep. And the photos. Ya'll, the photos! The new cell phone has awakened Ryan's inner photographer. He can turn on the camera mode faster than you can scream DON'T TAKE MY PICTURE I HAVE A HUGE ZIT RIGHT NOW!

Lucky for me, I don't have to scream that. Because it isn't me he's so desperate to photograph....it's the one true love of his life.

The Plot Thickens

2008-03-20T14:45:00.003-05:00

An IM conversation with Ryan this afternoon:

GlamJo: Look at this news story!! Link
GlamJo: ....just another reason to not go in the water
RyanIsAwesome: what the heck
RyanIsAwesome: so it jumped out of the water....and killed a person
GlamJo: yes, JUMPED OUT OF THE WATER
GlamJo: JUMPED.
GlamJo: OUT.
GlamJo: OF.
GlamJo: THE.
GlamJo: WATER.
RyanIsAwesome: if the sharks catch wind of this....
RyanIsAwesome: there will be no hope

But It Kinda Gave Me A Rash

2008-03-19T10:00:00.003-05:00

Ryan and I got invited to a birthday party, or more accurately, a Birthday Moustache Bash. And this is what happened.

I have to say, the Stache Bash looks good on the Illingworths. Under-eye baggage. Red eyes. Oily skin. A skin color that doesn't occur in nature. Yes....I think this is the look we will now adopt for any and all future parties.

Also, making out with fake moustaches? Hot.

Rarrrrr.

Nice Try

2008-03-09T18:20:00.003-05:00

OK 2008. I can see that you're trying to reach out. Trying to disguise yourself as an alright kinda guy. And I'll admit...it's been a good effort:

-Christian won Project Runway
-Ryan got a raise
-Lost has been better than ever
-Super Mario Galaxy on the Wii
-Success at work
-Super Target is finally open...and glorious

But listen, it's going to take more than that to win me over.

Yes, Still

2008-02-27T20:28:00.001-06:00

Dear 2008,

I hate you.

Love,
Jo

Even Though the Ticket Counter at Thoroughbred Cinemas Thinks I Look Sixteen

2008-02-13T16:49:00.004-06:00

WebMD just sent me an email entitled:

Going Gray, Staying Gorgeous!

I can't decide if I should be flattered that they assume I'm attractive, or freaked out that they've somehow seen my hairline and were concerned enough to send me a charming email about how to fix my problem.......

BEFORE IT'S TOO LATE.

Storm Tracker 2008

2008-02-06T20:20:00.000-06:00

So ok, things are still a bit...ugh times three. 2008 and I are still in a standoff, neither of us willing to budge from our respective corners. Neither of us willing to give the other any credit, instead just seething at each other and making empty threats. My sick friends are still sick. My heartbroken friends are still heartbroken. Writers are still on strike. We still don’t know who Jacob is. Work is still work. And Madam Vaginismus still has her claws imbedded deep into my marital social life. Never mind the fact that it’s raining babies everywhere I look. What is up with all the babies? Of course, maybe it’s like being on a diet. The second you decide no more fries! you see five commercials an hour about hot, salty, glorious fries. Maybe I wouldn’t notice all the babies if I weren’t so ready to have one. Also, if there weren’t so many. Seriously, I’ve had seventeen friends give birth recently. That’s double digits, ya’ll. If you’re trying to get pregnant, come and sit next to me. Every woman in my general vicinity is guaranteed to be great with child before I can even ovulate. Except that lately I’m not ovulating at all. And in case you’re counting, that’s two strikes. And that’s enough for me...I’m out.

It feels a bit like a hamster wheel...running and running towards something that just isn’t there. Striving and searching and hoping in general. But the badness continues to pile up. And up. These days my friends and I are getting stuck on the giant life questions – what does it all mean? Why doesn’t God answer prayer? Why doesn’t my husband want to love me anymore? Why can’t I get pregnant? Why did I get cancer so young? Why are some things so easy for others and so hard for me?

Last night a line of storms came through Tennessee bringing with them all the rage and anger that feels appropriate for this time of year. During the first line of storms a tornado touched down at my old college campus and completely destroyed some of the dorms. Looking through photos of the wreckage I saw that my old dorm room was one of the worst hit. A room that has always held such significance for me. I feel like I grew up there, became who I am today. Discovered the world and my small place in it. That room was my jumping off place. And now it’s gone. A storm came through and wiped clean any evidence of my time there.

In some ways, I wish a tornado could roar through my current state and wipe the slate clean. Rip the roof off and let everything just...fly.

Just go.

Don't Wanna Be Your Monkey Wrench

2008-01-29T21:17:00.000-06:00

For Christmas I gave Ryan Foo Fighter tickets. Ryan loves the Foo Fighters. And I knew he would all but freak over the tickets. Which he did. Which is also why I got us floor/general admission tickets. I knew when I bought these tickets that I would not enjoy this scenario. Sweaty bodies pressing themselves upon me, pushing and shoving, is not my idea of a good time. I'm in my mid-thirties, ok? But floor/general admission also means you're closer to the action and this was for Ryan. I was trying to think of others and be filled with Christmas spirit and stuff.

The moment we arrived the kids behind us were talking about how many bowls they should have smoked before the show. And then people blew smoke in my face. And then a strange man hit on Ryan. And then the shoving began. And the pushing. And the suffocating. Most of the show I could only see the sweaty armpit of the large man in front of me...the large man who hadn't showered in a few days. And several people were kind enough to grope my butt without my permission. And everyone felt free with the cursing and the screaming.

But ok, the band was great (what I could see) and Dave Grohl was hot (from what I could tell) but mostly what I learned is the one thing I've known for a long time.

I.
Do Not.
Like.
People.

P.S. 2008, I still hate you.

An Open Letter to 2008

2008-01-19T23:06:00.000-06:00

Dear 2008,

Look, we need to talk. I can't even start off with the how-are-you pleasantries or where's-the-flying-cars-I-thought-you-would-have-by-now brouhaha. It's time for some tough love, 2008. Time to get real.

You are wearing me RIGHT. OUT.

I realize our relationship is new. We've only known each other for a couple weeks now but seriously. I'm about done. The chaos, the break-ups, the divorces, the troubling ovulation news, the working late, the unending writer's strike...the snow for crying out loud! The snow that made Minnie Dog bark and freak out with wonder. The snow that I normally would have taken photos of...would have taken video of Minnie frolicking in...but I was too busy! Too busy dealing with YOU and all the PROBLEMS you've brought. What is wrong with you?

We've got a long way to go together, 2008. But if we keep going at this pace I am not going to make it. I don't have time to see my friends. Or my husband. I don't have time to read or write blogs! I feel like you're trying to cram a year's worth of stress, drama and badness into one day.

Ease up will ya?

I'm raising the white flag over here. Calling for a truce. Asking you for one tiny break.

Could we be friends?

Please?

(2007, if you're reading this, I'm sorry for all the nasty things I said about you. I didn't mean it. Please come back. I miss you.)

Happy New Year, Ya'll

2008-01-10T21:29:00.000-06:00

I do realize, you know. I realize that my blog looks like one of those crazy houses with all the Christmas lights still lit up. I've been absent, with my crazy candy canes half blown over and my icicle lights falling off the gutters. And I'm sorry about that. I've had good intentions. I've had lots of posts in my head. Lots of interesting things to tell you. Lots of pointless observations to make. So why haven't I written? Where have I been? I'll tell you.

2008.

Is.

Kicking.

My.

Butt.

....also, we got a Wii.

Goodnight.

Christmas Tour of Illingworth Manor

2007-12-18T19:49:00.000-06:00

Ya'll, I'm so happy.

Oh, you see right through me don't you? Well you're right, I'm not happy. I'm moody. For the past few weeks I've been on the verge of a hysterical meltdown or a psychotic break or a fit of maniacal rage. Does that sound dramatic? What I'm trying to say is that I cannot watch those Publix Christmas commercials anymore - it simply takes too long to reapply mascara every commercial break. I feel like a weepy contestant on the Biggest Loser...only I'm still a "before". I don't know what is up with me. Maybe it's the epidemic of divorce sweeping through my friends and family. You think?

But.

I am so happy. Because it's Christmas! All over! I've spent my entire Christmas budget on gas just driving around looking at Christmas lights. And to all of you who live near me and have done it up big and bright - I could kiss you. The twinkles lift my spirits. And! BooMama is once again hosting the Christmas Tour of Homes! Take a look...and head on over to BooMama to share in the Christmas goodness for yourself!

And now...Christmas at Illingworth Manor.

Notice Minnie Dog lurking behind The Duck...waiting to pounce. Those crazy kids!

Behold! The White Tree! And that Ho! sweater cracks me up every time.

Remote controls for both trees. A little device that changes the season from GRRR to AHHH!!!

Addison and Santa - BFF!

Since I've made seven batches of cookies and brownies from scratch and homeade cheescakes and...and...and...Ryan got me these cute canisters! Isn't he nice?

My Christmas Crazy cannot be contained. No it cannot.

Bedroom Christmas.

The Christmas Village...

...and its Demon Child that haunts my dreams.

The Mantle of Christmas Dreams. If you look closely, you can see TOTALLY CUTE sweaters, hats and gloves that spell out Christmas.

See?

Some of my favorite ornaments...

Behold! The Green Tree! And you should know...this photo is blurry-ish because my tree, it spins. ALL. THE. WAY. AROUND. If you love Christmas and you don't have a rotating tree, go and get one.

Right now.

Go ahead.

I'll wait.

And finally, my little Christmas Angel.....

Merry Christmas, Ya'll!

Why Are These Jeans So Tight? A Christmas Story in Three Parts

2007-12-11T21:05:00.000-06:00

Going.

Going.

Gone.

Cooking with Glam Jo

2007-12-08T21:14:00.000-06:00

Seriously, what's better than Cupcakes?

Cheesecake.

And what's better than Cheesecake?

Cheesecake Cupcakes.

And what's better than Cheesecake Cupcakes?

Christmas Cheesecake Cupcakes.

Here we go.

First, start with your ingrediants.

Ingrediants:
3 8 oz. packages of cream cheese, softened
1 cup sugar
4 eggs (yes, FOUR!)
1 1/2 teaspoons vanilla extract

Topping:
1 cup sour cream
1/4 cup sugar
1 1/2 teaspoons vanilla extract
Kiwi and strawberries

Preheat oven to 325F.

Line 24 regular muffin cups with paper cupcake liners.

Pretty!

In a large mixing bowl, beat the cream cheese until very smooth.

Dig out mixer that has been in the back of a cabinet since last baking season. Notice that beaters are missing. Search HIGH AND LOW for beaters. Huff and puff. Stomp foot. Shake fist at the fact that you were not at the Oprah Favorite Things show where everyone got a fabulous new KitchenAid Mixer of Dreams. Continue looking for lost beaters. Continue being irritated. Wonder if mixer will work as is.

Think that no, it won't.

Dig out random hand mixer that always seems to disappoint. Try it on the cream cheese. Fail miserably.

Decide to mix by hand and pure gumption.

Open a Diet Root Beer as this is going to take a while.

Add the sugar and mix well. By hand since, well, you know.

Add the eggs and vanilla and mix well. Rub burning biceps.

While stirring, watch old episodes of Project Runway that Tivo thought you might like. Episodes that aired BCT - Before Cable and Tivo.

Look away from Heidi and Tim long enough to realize that the batter, she is mixed.

Fill the cups about half full with batter. Do not drip any batter on the pan.

Woops.

Bake for about 25 minutes. Eat a Christmas cookie as all this work has made you hungry.

Mmmmm.

Make the topping: Combine the sour cream, sugar and vanilla and stir well with a metal spoon or spatula. Thank Paula Dean for, at this point, not suggesting the mixer again.

Spoon about 2 teaspoons on top of each Christmas Cheesecake Cupcake and return to the oven for 5 minutes to glaze.

Remove the Christmas Cheesecake Cupcakes from teh oven. When they can be handled safely, remove them from the muffin pan and let cool completely on wire racks. When completely cool, place them in plastic containers with lids and refrigerate until ready to serve. Just before serving, decorate with slivers of freshly cut fruit.

Hey Ryan, what do you think about the Christmas Cheesecake Cupcakes?

Oh good. Hey Minnie, what do you think about the Christmas Cheesecake Cupcakes?

I see.

This has been cooking with Glam Jo.

A Meme for You

2007-12-06T17:20:00.000-06:00

A strange meme that I stole from SecondHandGods.

What kind of soap is in your bathtub?
Scum.

HaHa, and some body wash - Oil of Olay I think? It can make Ryan look younger too.

Do you have any watermelon in your refrigerator?
No.

What would you change about your living room?
I would add a giant flat screen over the fireplace.

Are the dishes in your dishwasher clean or dirty?
Dirty. But last night I came home and discovered that Ryan had run the dishwasher. He's full of surprises.

What is in your refrigerator?
Leftover Hamburger Helper - Ryan's choice. Butter and eggs for making cookies tonight. Apples. Tostitos Spinach Dip, which I like to call AWESOME. Diet Sunkist and Diet A&W Root Beer. Tortillas. Cheese.

White or wheat bread?
Wheat.

What is on top of your refrigerator?
Dust. Blue canisters that are empty. Dog treats. Stale cereal.

What color or design is on your shower curtain?
White with see-through holes. I like to know what's coming.

How many plants are in your home?
I haven't yet figured out how to keep something alive inside the house.

Is your bed made right now?
Never.

Comet or Soft Scrub?
Soft Scrub and Method cleaning stuff from Target.

Is your closet organized?
Is YOURS?

Do you drink out of glass or plastic most of the time at home?
Glass. Or a can.

Do you have iced tea made in a pitcher right now?
No, but I do have pink lemonade.

If you have a garage, is it cluttered?
Ryan and I have a very strict rule that we should ALWAYS park our cars in the garage. That is what a garage is for. Parking cars. Not the driveway. Not the street. You should park IN the garage. And we do.

Curtains or blinds?
Blinds.

How many pillows do you sleep with?
Two.

Do you sleep with any lights on at night?
No, I like it dark.

How often do you vacuum?
Ideally once a week. Or, when dog hair starts floating through the air. My friend Tiffany vacuums EVERY. DAY. She even did this in college in her 6x6 dorm room. I do not vacuum every day.

Standard toothbrush or electric?
Standard.

What color is your toothbrush?
Pink.

Do you have a welcome mat on your front porch?
Yes, a Christmas one with three snowmen. My brother Drew was here last weekend and when he saw it he called his wife and said "take back the rug we got Jo, she already has it on her front porch."

What is in your oven right now?
The anticipation of cookies.

Is there anything under your bed?
Duck clothes.

Chore you hate doing the most?
Grocery shopping. Getting my car tags renewed.

What retro items are in your home?
If by "retro" you mean hand-me-down furniture, then, a lot.

Do you have a separate room that you use as an office?
If by "office" you mean "junk room that also has a desk in it" then yes, yes I do.

How many mirrors are in your home?
Too many. Or maybe it's not enough?

What color are your walls?
Kitchen is bright blue and I LOVE it. Bedroom is half-painted red and I will be changing it very very soon. Guest bath is green and I love it as well. Everything else is kind of a blah beige.

Do you keep any kind of protection weapons in your home?
Minnie Dog the Brave.

What does your home smell like right now?
The anticipation of cookies.

Favorite candle scent?
Not flowers.

What kind of pickles (if any) are in your refrigerator right now?
I don't like pickles.

What color is your favorite Bible?
Ok, a lot of these questions have been weird, but this one is almost stalker-ish weird.

Ever been on your roof?
Ryan won't allow it.

Do you have a stereo?
I'm a marketing director at a record company, of course I do.

How many TVs do you have?
Two, but still waiting for that flat screen. Did you hear that Santa? FLAT. SCREEN.

How many house phones?
We are a cellular family.

Do you have a housekeeper?
HAHahahahahahaHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHahahahahahAHAHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH

What style do you decorate in?
I read Domino magazine and think "hey, that's a good idea, I should do that!"....and that's about as far as it gets. But I have good intentions.

Do you like solid colors in furniture or prints?
I haven't bought any grown-up furniture yet but I think I would pick a solid.

Is there a smoke detector in your house?
Many. And they are currently POSSESSED with the Devil himself. We've had to turn the breaker off just to get them to shut up.

In case of fire, what are the items in your house which you'd grab if you could make only one trip?
Minnie Dog and photo albums.

It's The Most Wonderful Time of the Year

2007-11-30T17:23:00.000-06:00

Why, you ask?

-Cookies become a suitable option for breakfast
-Lights! Lights! Lights!
-Finding the perfect ornament
-Shopping for friends and family
-Shopping for friends and family and finding the perfect thing
-Normally grumpy people suddenly decorating their offices and drinking from Christmas mugs
-Remembering that God came to earth in the most vulnerable way...just for us
-75% off
-Watching Elf and Home Alone and Clark Griswold and A Christmas Story
-Singing Jingle Bells in the car.......loud
-Babies in Santa hats
-Rotating Christmas trees
-Buying eggnog in bulk
-Baking
-Christmas Bunco
-Two weeks off from work

30 Rock

2007-11-29T21:28:00.000-06:00

"I once had a rule about no sex with Asians. But then one day you walk into Sharper Image and there's Kwan."

Oh Jenna, I love you so.

Like It, Love It, Gotta Have It

2007-11-16T21:09:00.000-06:00

Ok.

Please raise your hand if you saw yesterday's Oprah starring the House of Hoard.

Keep it raised if you also saw today's Part Two: The Hoarder's Warehouse of Pain.

Keep it raised if more than four times you gasped in horror and hit rewind and then gasped louder and almost choked from all the gasped air.

Keep it raised if you, at least once, thought "Could that possibly ever happen to me?" I mean, this poor woman would just shop every single day and create piles and piles of ridiculous things that she could never possibly use or need. She couldn't even enter certain rooms of her house! Things were piled to the ceiling! The stuff!!!

But ya'll, keep that hand raised up high if after the episode you thought about that poor crazy woman and her poor crazy shopping insanity... and then you thought about that Santa Claus toilet seat cover you bought today for your guest bathroom. And then you felt the icy shiver of foreshadowing creeping up your spine.

Oh Tivo, sometimes you make me happier than free movie passes. Sometimes you just drain the blood from my arm.

My Hidden Crazy

2007-11-14T21:43:00.000-06:00

Sometimes I wonder if my family is secretly from the North Pole because of our love of all things Christmas. And ya'll, we love us some Christmas. Half the reason we vacation in the Smokey Mountains is because we love going to The Christmas Place. More than once. In the same day. With their rooms and rooms and rooms of anything your Santa Baby could ever hope to find. We love Christmas cookies and Christmas stories and Christmas carols and the Christmas story and the Baby Jesus. And chestnuts roasting on an open fire. And chasing squirrels around the Griswald house. And Kevin ordering a cheese pizza, you filthy animal.

And boy oh boy, do we love to decorate. My parents have four Christmas trees including one that rotates...all the way around. We are very serious about our trees and our lights and our Christmas dishes.

In fact.

Today is November 14th and my house is already decked out. Top to bottom. We're drinking from Snowman glasses and watching Tivo by twinkle lights. We've got both trees set up on a remote control. The stockings are hung by the chimney with care. Minnie's even tried on her reindeer costume.

But here's the thing. Since it's November 14th, we have only expoded ornaments on the inside of Illingworth Manor. The neighbors are not aware that we have visions of sugarplums dancing in our heads. We know better.

But my brother Drew and his lovely wife Kellie....they are not so smart. They have gone and lit up the entire neighborhood with their holiday display. They live in a new neighborhood that doesn't have street lights yet but it doesn't matter - Harris Manor is a beacon in the night. Apparently they don't know! They don't know that you aren't supposed to show your crazy! I mean, a couple wreaths in the window would be one thing - but Drew made a runway out of lights that says Santa! Stop! Here! And it's only November 14th!

Yup, he's my brother.

And he reads this website. Maybe he'll send us all a photo to enjoy? I mean, if you're going to show your crazy...SHOW IT PROUD!

Couple Things

2007-11-07T19:56:00.001-06:00

-Last night I hosted Boo Bunco at Illingworth Manor. Halloween parties in November rule. Uh-huh.

-Pushing Daises is not on tonight due to the Country Music Industry congratulating themselves. Boo.

-This weekend I went to Birmingham with 40 of my co-workers. On a bus. For staff retreat. And on the way the bus broke down. In the middle of the night. On the side of the road in the middle of nowhere in the FREEZING cold. With 40 of my co-workers. We got home at 5:30. In the morning.

-My sister-in-law Kellie just informed me that she already started decorating her house for Christmas. She BEAT me. I've got to step up my game. To get Ryan on board with the decorating I must woo him with eggnog. That dude is a fool for eggnog.

-Have you heard about Special K Chocolatey Delight? Because I might marry it. FOR LIFE.

-I hate getting the oil changed in my car. Hate.

-Today I heard a dirty dirty vicious rumor that if this writer's strike does not cease and desist this instant, the new season of Lost might be postponed until February 2009. If that scenario actually plays out I think we all know what will happen to me. I. Will. Die.

Boo!

2007-10-30T17:53:00.000-05:00

The Duck says Happy Halloween to you.

Minnie says if I don't get her out of that chicken costume immediately, it's going to get ugly.

Real ugly.

Waiting for November 1st

2007-10-27T21:27:00.000-05:00

There are three things that terrify me.

Dark shower curtains.
Empty theater bathrooms.
Haunted Houses.

Ok and sharks.

Every Halloween season I'm forced to face the Haunted House issue. There are always friends who want to go. Or brothers. Or husbands. And I'm always forced to say "Sorry, I can't. Because it's too scary. And because I'm a big chicken." I remember several years ago when I was living in a house with five other girls and a big group of friends decided to go to the Haunted Prison. A multi-level stone prison that's frightening enough on a spring afternoon let alone when it's been converted into a Haunted House. When my friends decided to go I wanted to say no. I needed to say no. I SHOULD have said no. Instead I said YEAH! and WOO! like I was part of the popular crowd. I'm an adult now, I thought. It's just pretend, I considered. Nothing is actually going to happen to me, I chanted. All the way there. I was determined to overcome my silly fear. Determined to be a cool kid for once. Not the nerd who hyperventilates and has to sit in the back of the emergency ambulance embarrassing your friends and yourself. (Yes, this has happened to me.) I made it all the way to the entry of the Haunted Prison before freaking out and leaving. They said if I left I couldn't get my $15 back and that was fine with me. Just the idea of going inside made my heart race too fast and every surface of my skin sweat and itch. I went and sat on a picnic table at the exit, no doubt provided for moms waiting for their children. And chickens.

About an hour later I see my friends coming out and I finally feel some relief. Finally breathe normally. Finally stop shivering. And right at that moment, Freddy Krueger charges towards me, chainsaw blazing. Me! The one sitting with the parents! In the safe-chicken zone!

I nearly broke the picnic table in half trying to get away. Screaming.

My friends nearly hyperventilated. Laughing.

Waterworks

2007-10-22T21:03:00.000-05:00

Sooooo....I haven't written anything lately. It isn't that nothing has happened it's just how do you follow a post about your most insanely private? And you've spilled it to the entire World Wide Web. I mean really. Who do I think I am? So I want to say something else, anything else. Maybe a joke? Or a clever observation? Or a list or something? I'm having a little trouble coming up with anything other than the fact that I cried in my office today in front of my boss. I ask you, is there anything worse? As a woman you try so hard to be strong and professional and respected. You work doubly hard to make sure that NO man can accuse you of being "hormonal" or whatever. One tear and all of the respect you've earned goes flying out the first floor window. The crying was work related. Something I can't really talk about here. What I will tell you is that I'm going through some stuff. And the stuff ain't nice. I've had several meetings lately where information was shared that made me want to cry like a howler monkey but I've managed to keep my cool. Until today. And ya'll, it was ugly. And then I had to face the rest of the day with burning eyeballs and no mascara.

And it's Monday.

And it rained all day.

And a guy at work said, "You know, if you were smaller right in here (pointing to his hips) you would be really proportionate."

Umm, thanks? I mean, I hate you?

What?

Good times.

The One Where You Learn Everything

2007-10-15T17:36:00.000-05:00

We got back home Saturday afternoon to a jam packed Tivo and I immediately did what any respectable person in my situation would do - I spent all weekend watching TV! Coming home from vacation was a little depressing since it meant facing a reality I wasn't yet prepared to face - but a full Tivo queue made it a little easier to solider through. That is, until I watched Private Practice's take on a "broken hoo-ha" and how they wrapped it up so nice and neat in a mere 45 minutes. And how the Virgin was all happy and elated that she finally got her wedding night magic after a quick diagnosis and a couple shots and some deep breathing and acupuncture.

Newsflash my dear Internets. In the real world it doesn't quite work this way.

No ma'am. It does not.

How it really works is this:
You go on your honeymoon with your new husband with the lips! and the shoulders! and things don't go very well. There's pain. And not the "minor discomfort" you're friends warned you about. There's searing pain. Unbearable pain. Shocking and intense pain. Pain you have never experienced on any level. Raw, scary hurtful pain. Then you call your doctor friend who says to call your gynecologist and you go in for an anxious appointment and she does an exam and presses on your full bladder with an ultrasound wand while you worry about tumors and flesh eating bacteria and she says "things look good, just relax and keep trying" so you do that. And it doesn't help. Doesn't work. There's still the white hot pain. So you go back in a couple months and there are more tests and more head scratching and the mention of surgery. You say no thank you because it's surgery but things continue to spiral down a deep and depressing hole and you start to feel like a failure as a wife and a failure as a woman and a failure (if ever!) as a future mother so you re-think the big S. And you talk to Perfect Ryan about it and you both agree that maybe this will work since after all it's been 6 months and this problem, she is getting old. So you have surgery. And they find nothing. And then you cry for about a week solid and feel hopeless and broken and dysfunctional and weird. And for a while you just do nothing. You don't go to the doctor and you don't try and you don't even think about it. Because nothing seems to be working. And then your friend tells you about a clinic that specializes in helping women with sexual dysfunction and you say "that's nice" while thinking to yourself that you would NEVER want to go to such a place. And you continue to try not to think about the awfulness of it all. And then one day you get up the nerve to call the clinic and make an appointment. And they do (yet another) exam that's simply embarrassing and painful and bad. But also they tell you that there's hope. That there's a name for this madness. That all the people who said "just relax" and "have a glass of wine" and "you're just nervous" can shove it. And this makes you feel better. And then they prescribe some muscle relaxers and creams and devices and exercises and physical therapy. And going to physical therapy means one more person that asks you to take off your pants. And you're really tired of taking off your pants. But you do it anyway because you want answers. You want healing. You want an end to the overwhelming physical and emotional pain. And the things you have to do at physical therapy, the things you do behind closed doors while everyone else is walking on treadmills and lifting dumbbells a mere 3 feet away, well those things make you feel like staying at home with the covers pulled over you head. Forever. But you go once a week. Every week. Behind the closed door. And then you have to do at home therapy that is painful and awkward and laughable and just plain strange. And the romance is gone. And sex has become a lights up science experiment that no one enjoys. But you press on. You press on because you have to. You need to. Because you will not let this define you and your relationship. But it does. And you hate that. And one day you find yourself two and half years down the road thinking that you never thought it would be like this. And thinking that it's a good thing you married such an amazing, patient, kind person. And wondering when the nightmare will end. That, my dear Internets, is how it really is.

Let's all join hands and take a deep breath because here it comes.

Hello, my name is Glam Jo, and I have Vaginismus.

Reason #29

2007-10-06T12:19:00.001-05:00

Reason #29 Why I love Ryan Illingworth:

He Rocks.

P.S. Lately things around ye olde Illingworth Manor have been....stressful. Work developments that have caused loud sighs and tears and anger and drama. Health issues that we still hate even though they've been around so long they are starting to seem like an old friend. Bills that invariably show up at the worst moment. Disc 5 of Heroes Season 1 taking FOREVER to show up in the mailbox. So we're going on vacation. A vacation from our problems.

Bye.

2007-10-04T17:09:00.000-05:00

I have a card in my office with this quote on the front:

"If you're going through hell, keep going."
-Winston Churchill

.........keep going.

Michael Scott's Dunder Mifflin Scranton Meredith Palmer Memorial Celebrity Rabies Awareness Fun Run Pro Am Race For The Cure

2007-09-29T10:17:00.000-05:00

-Michael hitting Meredith with his car and giving her a "pelvical fracture"
-Stanley!
-"I'm sorry, WHAT IS we're fine."
-"There's a fungal cream because she has an infection under her tail."
-"I love my employees, even though I hit one of them with my car."
-Michael giving Meredith a full body hug on the hospital bed so she'll forgive him in front of everyone
-"She's in a better place. And that place is your freezer."
-"I'm not superstitious. I'm just a littlestitious."
-"Cats do not provide milk or wool or meat."
-"With the electricity that we're using to keep Meredith alive we could power a small fan for two days. You tell me what's unethical"
-PB&J's kiss
-"I'm petrified of nipple chaffing."
-"Just a couple of kittens out on the town."
-"All my bags of frozen fries had been clawed to shreds."
-"I didn't see where it started but I did see where it ended."
-"Myth: Three Americans die every year from rabies. Fact: Four Americans die every year from rabies."
-"It is the silent killer. No, it is the foaming, barking killer."
-"Oh hey, very cool you went back and got your degree!"
-The check made out to science.
-Dwight shooting a real gun.

The Dreamboat Cometh

2007-09-27T11:56:00.000-05:00

Finally, today is the day.

And this weekend I plan to write a re-cap of all the new/returning shows of this week. Excited?

How To Find Me

2007-09-24T15:19:00.000-05:00

Recent Google searches that have led people to my door, as it were.

-No underwear
-catamaran from Jaws
-human sparkler
-cement ducks
-school square pizza
-hurts when blink
-clear suitcase
-toe throbbing
-deodorize birkenstock
-rapturous love
-cymbal flips
-halloween bunco

Is this an overall summary of my blog? I'm accident prone, forget my underwear (not true!), scared of sharks, and love to eat while playing the drums and bunco and dressing my duck?

Well, yeah.

The One Where I Realize That Impulse Coloring is Still Not A Good Idea

2007-09-20T17:47:00.000-05:00

Well I’ve gone and done it again.

I’m not what you’d call a girly girl. I don’t wear eyeliner or lipstick. I don’t fret about what “outfit” to wear since I only ever wear a black t-shirt and jeans. Sometimes a grey t-shirt. I don’t wear hair accessories, wouldn’t even know how. I don’t “style” my hair. I’m currently still wearing flip-flops every day and carrying a summer purse! My friend Tiffany will read that last sentence and swoon…since polite southern girls don’t faint. I’m not butch, per se, I’m more of the plain jane variety. I don’t do things with my appearance to draw attention to myself as this makes me nervous*. My friend Tiffany is just the opposite of me. She’s girly through and through and then back around again. She’s the kind of lady (and yes, a Lady) who matches her shoes to her purse every day. My first memory of Tiffany is at an intramural sorority volleyball game where she showed up wearing a purple swishy wind suit and full jewelry – earrings, necklace, bracelets, rings and fresh nail polish. I’m pretty sure I was wearing yesterday’s ponytail and a dirty t-shirt I had moments ago dug out from a pile on my dorm room floor. We were playing volleyball for crying out loud - not trying out for Homecoming court! From that moment on it became Tiffany’s mission to make me more Lady-ish. To style my hair and make me wear an “outfit” to class.

*Maybe in another post on another day we can explore why drawing attention with my appearance makes me nervous but drawing attention with my personality gives a high that can only be matched by peanut butter and chocolate.

Apparently all of her work was in vain. I’m still wearing t-shirts, still not styling my hair, still not wearing lipstick. In fact, lately I’ve been walking around looking like this. (Tiffany, maybe you should look away.)

Of course, I don’t WANT to look like this. But I decided that I needed a break from the blonde upkeep. I mean...every eight weeks gets a bit tedious. And expensive. So I set out to grow out the blonde which, as you can see above, is a nice look. I made it all the way to yesterday when I freaked out and decided that I couldn’t take it anymore! No more bad roots! No more bad blonde! I went straight to Target and bought some nice natural brown and immediately colored my hair. Some of you may remember the last time I colored my hair and became and unintentional punk rocker (as seen here). You would think I learned my lesson. You would think by now I would know that it’s worth the money to pay an expert. You would also think that I would know better than to try and cut my own hair. You would be wrong.

My hair can now be described as brain-eating-zombie-GREY on the ends and cut by a kindergarten student with safety scissors. All I can say is, Tiffany, I’m sorry.

The worst part is – my hair used to look like this! So pretty!

Now it looks like this.

I called AJ and told her that I have a hair emergency. She asked why and I told her that I tried to cut it myself. “WHY would you DO that??” she said.

I don’t know.

I do not know.

Brother Harris

2007-09-18T23:27:00.000-05:00

I started to write a big sappy tribute to my brother about how today is his birthday and how awesome he is and what a great father he is and how funny he is....but then I realized that I've written this before. And I couldn't say it better myself.

(Written July 2005) (Yet still holds true today)
I’m getting married on Monday, marrying the best person I know. There are many people involved in the wedding whom I love and adore and with whom I feel honored to share my day. I want to somehow give a small picture of how blessed I am to be surrounded by such great people. First off, my brother, Kelley Andrew Harris – or Drew, for short. My earliest memory of my brother is the day he was born. I was six years old and the queen of the world, and suddenly there was this new person in my house. The day Drew was born, Dad took me to K-Mart in Bowling Green, KY to get a new outfit for my “new brother to come home in”. I had known something was coming, had seen my mother’s stomach growing month by month. But somehow I didn’t realize all the talk meant a new person I had to share space with – and parents. Once he did come home, I thought he was pretty cool since he was tiny like a baby doll. But MAN! DID HE SCREAM! For an entire year he screamed morning, noon and night. Screamed instead of eating. Screamed instead of sleeping. He screamed…..and screamed. My parents went crazy wondering what it was they were doing wrong while Drew just screamed. And screamed.
After a year, he did finally stop the incessant screaming (we never figured out what the problem was…). What's followed has been 24 years of good and bad and hilarious. When we were younger, we fought like champs. We also loved each other and had more than fun than should be allowed for two kids to have. He was always so much younger than me, which made me into a bossy tyrant at times. And he was a pesky little brother. But he was also funny and interesting and my best friend growing up. Together we traveled to grandparents’ in the family mini-van, took a trip to the beach, rode to school every day, watched 10,000 movies and made a lifetime of memories.
Once I left home for college, my relationship with my brother matured into a friendship like none other I have. Whenever I’m with Drew, I’m laughing. He’s truly the funniest person I know and will EVER know. And he’s grown into a man of character and strength, a person I admire and respect. It’s too challenging (and time consuming at the moment) to truly write an accurate picture of my love for my brother, but here are some of my personal highlights:
- I’m Po, but I’m Proud
- Sambo
- Orange converse high tops
- Riding the jet ski in Florida and fearing for my life
- Scooby Doo
- verysmallrocks
- “Wait a second...bug...gnat...”
- “I know who you are”
- The bird call
- Tetris, Super Mario and Frogger
- Our trip to LA
- Stealing my 10-speed and then knocking your teeth out on a parked car
- No knees
- Megan has a bowling ball
- Taking a "Wayne"

Drew – you know there are a million more...and a million more than that. You’ve been (and continue to be) the best brother a girl could ask for. I’ve loved you since I met you, and I’m so excited to see where life will take us both. Happy 27th Birthday old man. I love you!

The One Where You Think I'm Confessing what Embarrassing Shows I Watch, But I'm Not. (i'mnotembarrassedatall)

2007-09-13T18:05:00.000-05:00

Time Magazine recently came out with their list of the 100 Best TV Shows of ALL TIME! Since I love TV like Chris Crocker loves Britney and black eyeliner, I was very eager to see what they qualified as "ALL TIME" best shows. Here's the list (with my comments):

The 100 Best TV Shows of All-TIME
A - F
* 24 (Jack Bauer for President! Although not the Jack Bauer from Season 6, please.)
* 60 Minutes
* The Abbott and Costello Show
* ABC's Wide World of Sports
* Alfred Hitchcock Presents
* All in the Family
* An American Family
* American Idol (Duh.)
* Arrested Development (If I could put George Micheal Bluth in my purse and take him with me everywhere I go - I would. I would indeed.)
* Battlestar Galactica
* The Beavis and Butt-Head Show (Wait, really? I mean, I've laughed with the best of 'em but we're going for greatest shows of ALL TIME here.)
* The Bob Newhart Show
* Brideshead Revisited
* Buffalo Bill
* Buffy the Vampire Slayer
* The Carol Burnett Show
* The CBS Evening News with Walter Cronkite
* A Charlie Brown Christmas
* Cheers
* The Cosby Show (Whachoo talkin' 'bout BUUUUUUD.)
* The Daily Show
* Dallas
* The Day After
* Deadwood
* The Dick Van Dyke Show
* Dragnet
* The Ed Sullivan Show
* The Ernie Kovacs Show
* Felicity (Scott Speedman! So Sexy!)
* Freaks and Geeks
* The French Chef
* Friends (Give us some candy Lady!)

G - M

* General Hospital
* The George Burns and Gracie Allen Show
* Gilmore Girls (Yes, please.)
* Gunsmoke
* Hill Street Blues
* Homicide: Life on the Street
* The Honeymooners
* I, Claudius
* I Love Lucy
* King of the Hill
* The Larry Sanders Show
* Late Night with David Letterman (NBC)(Although Paul Schaffer scares the POOP out of me.)
* Leave It to Beaver
* Lost (If this were not an alphabetized list, this should be at the top of said list. Forever. Amen.)
* Married... With Children
* Mary Hartman, Mary Hartman
* The Mary Tyler Moore Show
* M*A*S*H
* The Monkees
* Monty Python's Flying Circus
* Moonlighting
* MTV 1981-1992
* My So-Called Life
* Mystery Science Theater 3000

N - S

* The Odd Couple
* The Office [American] (There's Poop! Falling! From the CEILING!)
* The Office [British]
* The Oprah Winfrey Show
* Pee Wee's Playhouse
* Playhouse 90
* The Price Is Right
* Prime Suspect
* The Prisoner
* The Real World
* Rocky and His Friends
* Roots
* Roseanne
* Sanford and Son
* Saturday Night Live
* Second City Television
* See It Now
* Seinfeld (Another list topper, this should be, in a non-alphabetized way)
* Sesame Street
* Sex and the City
* The Shield
* The Simpsons
* The Singing Detective
* Six Feet Under
* Soap
* The Sopranos
* South Park
* SpongeBob SquarePants
* SportsCenter
* Star Trek
* St. Elsewhere
* The Super Bowl (and the Ads)
* Survivor

T - Z

* Taxi
* The Tonight Show Starring Johnny Carson
* The Twilight Zone
* Twin Peaks
* The West Wing
* What's My Line?
* WKRP in Cincinnati
* The Wire
* Wiseguy
* The X-Files
* Your Show of Shows

Here's the thing. Where's Scrubs? And Flavor of Love? And 30 Rock? And Best Week Ever and Flipping Out and That's So Raven and The Dog Whisperer? And Aqua Teen Hunger Force? And Hogan Knows Best? I mean, if you're going to make a list - make a LIST people.