Archives for April 2013

What? I’m Not Here Today? LIES!

Okay, maybe it’s not a complete lie. I’m guest posting over at It’s a Dome Life today! Lily has been hosting this beautiful Examining the Creative Mind Series, in which she asks several pages worth of questions about artists, their processes and their inspiration.

She’s brilliant I tell you.

So go read my guest post and send Lily some comment love. Because post hosts loooooove comments! And I might host a giveaway next month. And I might cry if you don’t. I’m not above bribery. Or threats.

If you’re stopping by from It’s a Dome Life, might I recommend the following favorite posts…

Adventures with The Bloggess

Because Search Terms Are Funny

Stormageddon: Dark Lord of All

The Tale of Olive Baby

Christmas Music

Hey! Did you know you can buy my book on Amazon? 37 women wrote about the struggle for perfection, and I'm one of 'em. Go check it out!

Monday Memories: Hoarder? Who, me?

Today’s Memories are all about childhood collections. I have a feeling that my soul sister in New Mexico (Lily from It’s a Dome Life) is going to have a similar tale to tell, so go check her out!

So I may or may not have mentioned my childhood bedroom. I collected everything. EV-RE-THING. It looked like a tornado had come through, tossing Barbies, Barbie clothes, books, dress up clothes, Cabbage Patch Dolls Little People, She-Ra, My Little Pony, trolls, cassette tapes, key chains, buttons, pins, patches, birthday cards, photographs, and a crap ton of LEGOs around like a boss. The piles of single socks, clothes, and toys that adorned the floor of my bedroom was astounding. In a not-cool sort of way. For some reason if everything was “organized” in a pile, it was okay…for me anyways.

These days, I still have piles of clean laundry (in a laundry basket, though). But my crazy collections have finally ceased. Sort of.

The Nook helps with the book hoarding. It really does. I saved only the cards that have personal notes in them. or the ones that were from my grandparents. or the really funny ones. But I got rid of the dumb ones. The Barbies and their accessories are boxed up on my parents garage shelves…collecting dust, but who cares. They’re freakin’ Barbies! With pretty dresses! The trolls, little people, she-ra, and the ponies disappeared, though I’m not sure where. Mom gave away all of my children’s books. I suppose that’s what happened to everything else. I mean, I’ve still got the important stuff. The original CPKs.The BARBIES. The Disney VHS tapes…You know…the important stuff.

Now I just collect…clothes. And shoes. And purses. That I don’t wear or use. And seashells. That are sitting in shoe boxes on my closet shelf.

OK. So maybe I’m still a hoarder. Just a little bit. But I mean…two closets and three dressers full of clothes. Plus several Rubbermaid crates…Hmmm…Maybe I should get rid of things I don’t wear.

Well if that wasn’t the rambliest post ever, I don’t know what is. Next Monday, we’ll be writing about BOOK MEMORIES! Write about your favorite memories with Lily and I. Just let us know that you’re in so we can link to you!

Did you collect strange things when you were a kid? Did you collect anything?

 

Hey! Did you know you can buy my book on Amazon? 37 women wrote about the struggle for perfection, and I'm one of 'em. Go check it out!

Today’s Post is Brought to You by Shamelessness. And BlogHer. And Me.

Today I am shameless. Today I ask again for your help. You see, in July, I will be attending my very first BlogHer conference. And I’m STOKED. And nervous. And everything in between.

And there’s this miniscule TINY little chance that I could possibly maybe read one of my blog posts. The lovely Lily from It’s a Dome Life submitted one of my posts to Voices of the Year. And then I submitted a few more for fun. And if you have a favorite post, you can totally submit that too. But if you think that I am worthy, I would very much LOVE to have that speaking opportunity at BlogHer. So if you could please go vote for me…I would be eternally grateful. Again.

I will DEFINITELY go vote for you too! Just leave a link in the comments here if you’ve been submitted to Voices of the Year.

Here are the four links that have been submitted representing Quirky Chrissy.

I Make a Terrible Housewife

Two Years Seems Like Just Yesterday and Forever

Shit I’m Glad My Mom Didn’t Do

In Light of the Tragedy in Connecticut

Because this shameless post should not be ALL about me…

And by the way, yesterday was WORLD FREAKIN’ PENGUIN DAY. Now, I don’t really have a thing for penguins the way I do for dolphins, but Katie over at Words for Worms does…and she wrote about it. So go read a post about a penguin butler. Yes. I said Penguin. Butler. Just go there already.

Hey! Did you know you can buy my book on Amazon? 37 women wrote about the struggle for perfection, and I'm one of 'em. Go check it out!

Wordless Wednesday: The Best Panhandling I’ve Seen This Week

The best panhandling ever: girlfriend captured by ninjas need money for kung foo lessons

Hey! Did you know you can buy my book on Amazon? 37 women wrote about the struggle for perfection, and I'm one of 'em. Go check it out!

I Made Pictures in My Mind to Remember You

Caution: This post may make you cry. But it may not. It made me cry writing it. So read at your own risk that you may or may not cry. And I promise I tried to put some humor in it. Whether or not you laugh is up to you. So really, you could laugh AND cry. Or neither. The choice is yours, really.

You may have been wondering why I disappeared for a week of guest posters in March. Or why I’ve not been quite as socially active. Or why my posts are lacking that special oomph that makes me me. This is why.

In August of last year, we received a devastating blow. Brian’s mom, who was the nicest and most wonderful lady in the whole world, without a mean bone in her body, was diagnosed with Stage 4 Metastatic Non-Small Cell Lung Cancer. In layman’s terms, she had a non-smoker’s lung cancer that had already spread.

Until February, she fought and fought and fought. And we both (she and I) believed that she would fight it, kill it, and stomp on its grave. That stupid cancer. We spent a lot of time talking about how she was going to make this cancer wish it had never paid her a visit. She was strong. But February came, and reality set it.

The cancer was taking over.

Cancer. Was. Taking. Over.

On March 23, the world lost a fine lady, and Heaven gained an angel. It sucks. Cancer sucks.

But I am lucky. Lucky that I knew her. Lucky that I spent as much time as I did with her. For a while we were spending most of our weekends with Mom. And while there may not be a lot of photographic evidence, I have pictures in my mind. Lots of them. Sweet ones and funny ones. And those will live on forever. I am lucky.

But I’m still sad. And while she wasn’t my own mom, she was family. And I loved her.

One of the best pictures, though, is not a picture in my mind. It’s a real picture. After surgery, she couldn’t walk very well, but I promised to take her to the grocery store. I promised to teach her how to ride the driving cart at the store. Surprised that I knew how to maneuver it so well (Thanks to my Mom, my Gram, and my own silly injuries), she became less reluctant to try it out (Because she didn’t see me almost get hit by a car on my way into the parking lot) and she was ready for it. If I could do it, so could she.

So we had a grocery adventure, Brian’s mom and I. Just the two of us.

Driving like a rock star. She had a great teacher, you know...

And then we had more driving cart adventures. Because we could. But those are all brain pictures. And not real pictures. Lucky for me, I’ve got a pretty colorful brain.

Blog Friends, tell us about someone you love. Tell us a memory. Tell us about a picture in your brain.

Hey! Did you know you can buy my book on Amazon? 37 women wrote about the struggle for perfection, and I'm one of 'em. Go check it out!

Stargazing, Meteor Showers, and Me

Today’s Monday Memories is brought to you by FIRSTS. First loves, first kisses, first free ride in a police car, first meteor shower…you know…whatever you want as long as it’s a first.

Monday Memories

In honor of the Lyrid Meteor Shower this weekend/last night/this morning/whatever, I’d like to take a moment to remember my very first (and I think only…) meteor shower.

I was in college. A sophomore. In a city. In the middle of Cornfield, IL. And there was going to be a meteor shower. Like every quasi-teen-girl in the history of ever, the idea of watching a crap load of shooting stars is ridiculously romanticized. Especially when the girl in question has a ridiculous crush on one of her dude friends. One of her dude friends who suggests an evening of meteor gazing.

OBVIOUSLY this was fate calling.

Except that we were a part of a fearsome threesome (Get that dirty image out of your minds, blog friends. Not THAT kind of threesome. Just FRIENDS. UGH. It’s like you don’t even know me.)

And so we made a plan. Robert, Cletus and I would venture out to the cornfields to watch the stars fly. I was so excited I thought I might pee myself. (Not really; that’s gross. It’s just an EXPRESSION, guys.)

Except that much like this weekend, it was FUCKING cold out.  (Don’t even get me started on the torrential flooding rains turned snowy icy death pellets two days later.) So we stayed up all night with a South Park marathon and left in the wee hours of the morning to watch the shower of meteors. After packing a comforter and some folding chairs, we were set.

We drove to the middle of nowhere, “parked” the car, and set up the chairs. In the middle of a dark two lane highway in the cornfields. And watched the stars. And it was GLORIOUS. For 5 whole minutes. Before both Cletus and Robert gave the fuck up. 5 minutes of stars and those whiny bitches were DONE?!? (I mean that with the utmost sincerity of love for my pals). I sat out there shivering for another 15 minutes before they made me pack up and get into the car.

I watched the stars out the window all the way back to Peoria in awe. This were some amazingly beautiful performance put on by the galaxy. And I wanted to soak it all in.

But the romanticized part about stargazing with one’s crush? Fucking ridiculous. That shit should be shared with EVERYONE. Except that now that I’m nearing 30, I’m old and cranky and can’t bear to think of waking up before 6:15 in the morning. Or going to bed after 11:30 at night. So no stars for me this week. But to all you stargazers out there, I’m with you in my mind.

Go visit Lily at It’s a Dome Life for more Monday Memories! If you’d like to join us next week, our topic is going to be: “Write about something you collected as a child.”

Ever seen a meteor shower, friends? How about a shooting star?

Hey! Did you know you can buy my book on Amazon? 37 women wrote about the struggle for perfection, and I'm one of 'em. Go check it out!

Maybe I’ll Write About Doctor Who…Because You Know There’s Not Enough of it on the Internet or Anything…

I may or may not have the urge to name my first born child Stormageddon.

For those of you who don’t know, I recently immersed myself in the complete and utter nerd-dom of Doctor Who. And once I dive into something that major, I obsess. Seriously. Fucking. Obsess. So obviously, I watched the entire modern series in a matter of 2 months. Did I mention that I obsess?

Like when I saw this shirt. I needed this shirt. So I bought this shirt. I can’t wait to nerd out in it at a con or two.

Keep Calm and Don't Blink

I may have pulled this shirt out of the dirty laundry last night just to take a photo shoot…and don’t mind my messy hair.

Seriously...it was at the bottom of the laundry. But I felt inspired to put it on for you guys.

Seriously…it was at the bottom of the laundry. But I felt inspired to put it on for you guys.

So yesterday, I’m not sure if you heard this or not, but Chicago kind of drowned a little bit. Flash floods across the suburbs. Roads blocked. Commutes delayed. Cars destroyed. Scary terrifying thunderstorms. Power outages. A boat load of not good. An ARK, if you will…

Belmont Train Underpass Underwater

This train station is like 7 minutes from where I live.

Needless to say, I DID NOT leave my apartment yesterday.

How does this all relate?

My girlfriend in Arizona Facebooked, “What the hell is going on in Illinois?!” And I replied with “Stormageddon.”

And then I remembered the episode of Doctor Who in which I told Brian that our first born child would be named Stormageddon. And then I Googled it for some fun things for you.

You’re quite welcome.

i am stormageddon american apparel baby one piece white onesie

I sent this to Brian…and told him that our future child would totally own this. And by own it I mean wear the shit out of it. He refused to comment.

forget-alfie-im-stormageddon

If you want more Stormy Baby Pictures and Doctor Who Joy…It’s possible that I could spend hours on this Doctor Who Tumblr

Happy Friday Everyone! Have you ever braved a terrifying storm? Snow Storms or Flooding Rain Storms? Tornadoes? I’m petrified of them, but I do love a good story…

 

 

Hey! Did you know you can buy my book on Amazon? 37 women wrote about the struggle for perfection, and I'm one of 'em. Go check it out!

Very Pinteresting: Pinterest Then and Pinterest Now

How Pinterest Evolved

Hey! Did you know you can buy my book on Amazon? 37 women wrote about the struggle for perfection, and I'm one of 'em. Go check it out!

Weird Fears. Please Tell Me I’m Not Alone.

I have a lot of ridiculous fears…

I mean there’s the standard brontophobia (thunderstorms, people, NOT dinosaurs.) which I’ve gotten better at over the years…

And the zombie apocalypse fear (Brian and I have zombie discussions somewhat regularly…and they always end with me saying, “you know…I REALLY don’t want the zombie apocalypse to happen.” And then Brian tries to bite my arm. Or I try to bite Brian’s arm. One of those.)

But what about the strange fears that you’re afraid to admit to? I’ve got lots. I promise they get funnier as we work our way down the list. Bear with me. Or is it bare with me?

OK, so I’ve already admitted my fear of having MS which seriously sprung from watching the Annette Funicello Story on TV. And the ridiculous number of people that I have known in my life who have or have had MS. Seriously. Crazy. Fear.

Then there’s the fear that I’ll be unable to produce offspring. I know that this isn’t something I’m trying to make happen right now…but I’ve always had a fear that I wouldn’t be able to make babies. And that makes me sad.

I have this ridiculously unhealthy fear of botulism. Ever since taking the food sanitation class when I was a catering manager…I have a horrible fear of botulism. Reheated onions? NO THANK YOU.

Who else has a fear of deer? Anyone? Anyone? Bueller? I clam up and get panicky when I so much as see a deer. Brian isn’t allowed to send me pictures of deer. Ever. Because they terrify me. A lot. Ever since one decided to commit suicide by slamming into my car I hate them. And get sad for them. But mostly I’m afraid of them. And their fearless ability to race into oncoming traffic. Even when I play “Frogger” in the Loop, I’m better off than the deer.

Falling into sewer grates. In Chicago, EVERY. FREAKIN.’ SIDEWALK. is lined with these grates. BIG. Giant. Grates. And I’m terrified that I’m going to fall into one. I know that this is silly. Because I don’t wear high heels that would get caught in them. And they’re pretty safely constructed. But I don’t walk on them. Ever. And it usually makes me bump into people on the sidewalk.

If you’ve ever seen Scrooged, then you may understand why I refuse to be cremated. I have a fear of being burned alive courtesy of the ghost of Christmas future in Scrooged. I know that when you die, you cannot be burned alive. But I’m not taking ANY chances. Besides, if the zombie apocalypse happens after I die, I want the chance to dig out and be free.

What about you, Blog Friends? Any strange fears? Any “normal” fears?

 

Hey! Did you know you can buy my book on Amazon? 37 women wrote about the struggle for perfection, and I'm one of 'em. Go check it out!

Monday Memories: We Put the Loud in DysFUNctional

Today’s Monday Memories to Make You Laugh are all about the dysfunction in families. I could probably write for days about the various ways my family is a little crazy…in an obscenely lovable way. But today…I’ll just tell you about this one little aspect of us.

My family is LOUD. Really. Fucking. Loud. I’m the quiet one. Well. One of the quiet ones. And I put a normal person to shame. Because we’re all loud. You have to be in a family like this. If you want to be heard, you better learn quickly to talk over everyone else. Which is hard. Really. Fucking. Hard.

As a kid, at sleepovers, I was the one getting yelled at to “BE QUIET!” even though I was using my best indoor voice. It just wasn’t an adequate indoor voice for normal households. At my house, yelling was more common that whispering. And yelling didn’t mean anger. It just meant…talking. LOUDLY.

Game nights with the ladies of the family were frightening. Remember that one time I told you all how much I hate Scattergories? It was because of game night with the ladies. They’re loud. And proud. And argue about things that are silly. Loudly. And they never listen to THE ENGLISH MAJOR. Because I’m not loud enough.

But in the exact same breath, the loudness of my family is endearing. It’s lovable. We laugh just as loud as we argue. We’re like Texas. Everything is just BIGGER. We even smile bigger. We cackle. All of the ladies in my family have this infectious cackle. Passed down from my Gram and maybe even before her, we got this big bold laugh that comes from the deepest part of our soul and reaches up to the heavens. And you can’t help but love it. Even though it’s loud. So. Very. Loud.

Every time we leave my family, Brian breathes a sigh of relief. Not because he doesn’t love my family–because he does. But because he comes from the quiet family. His family parties are just as loud as ours…but with THREE TIMES as many people. At least. And his immediate fam? Way quieter. When I met them for the first time…it reminded me of My Big Fat Greek Wedding. (Yes! My family is a lot like that actually. Just you know…not Greek.)

(Just watch from 1:00-2:00 on that clip. Unless you want to watch the rest. Because that movie is awesome. I made requested that Brian watch it during one of our first movie nights in.)

OK, so it wasn’t really awkward. Just quiet. Quieter than I am used to. Because my family is loud.

What about you, Blog Friends? Any family quirks that set you apart from the world?

Next week Lily from It’s a Dome Life and I will be writing about FIRSTS. If you’d like to write about a First (kiss, vacation, car, ANYTHING), send me an e-mail and I’ll make sure to link you in!

Hey! Did you know you can buy my book on Amazon? 37 women wrote about the struggle for perfection, and I'm one of 'em. Go check it out!