Gwen here to tell you about Thankgiving!

Thanksgiving was a smashing successful time here! I don’t mean that we broke anything, either.  It was fun and my apartment looked so wonderful and it smelled good and everyone commented on my wonderful towels from the white sale and new window treatment that were not on sale but I totally had to have them and everyone said they were justifiably perfect no matter what the cost.  Okay, well my mother had an issue with how much they cost so I fibbed a little and told her they were actually a hundred dollars less than they were but she doesn’t read this so it’s fine. What she doesn’t know won’t hurt me, right? Right. 

So anyway, I found these amazing candles that smell like pumpkin pie and you know how some candles say what the smell is and if you sniff them when they are in the package they have the right smell but once you light them they just smell like whatever they are supposed to smell like on fire? Not very good, but these are very good they really smell like a baking pumpkin pie.  And no, you are not allowed to make a joke here about a burning pie, thank you very much.

So my house smells wonderful even before Martha gets the pie in the oven and even she commented on how wonderful it smelled.  Carol came over early too and ooohed and aaahed over my windows.  She is such a bestie! Love you honey! She was seeing them at the perfect time of day, too, so it was glorious.  I wish I could post a picture for you because that would be so much easier for me but Nancy says no, I have to paint the picture with words for you and that is so much more easier for her than for me I tell you but she started this whole thing and then made the teeeensy mistake of giving me the password when I begged her because I said if it was going to be about us then we both should have our day at the beach here, right? Right.  So no pictures of my wonderful windows, I will just say this.  Wooden blinds, not the mini blind looking things but the thick wooden boards, and the wood color matches my woodwork in the apartment of course.  Then on either side of the windows and in the center of the two clear up at the ceiling there are these funny box kind of things that just hang from these hooks that they sold me at the hardware store and I put them up myself.  Anyway these boxes have a bar in the middle that you can’t see from the outside of the box and you hang up the box and then you take this wonderful fabric that I bought about a jillion yards of and you drape that up over the bar so it hangs down in between the windows like it’s supposed to be curtains but they are just these wonderful thin strips of fabric well not that thin, they kind of bunch up…

Oh Nancy, please just let me send a picture.  For crying out loud.

Oh the food was wonderful, too. Nancy had some great ideas but everyone wanted a traditional feast instead of something unique so I will use Nancy’s great awesome ideas for another party and Martha helped put everything together.  She is really pretty smart I did not know you can buy turkey parts rather than whole turkeys so we cooked turkey parts in my little oven and there was plenty of that and somehow everything worked out fine.  I spent hours peeling potatoes, so many potatoes I think we actually sent potatoes home with people, but Martha said we’d need that many, so I just kept peeling.  I got a blister on my thumb from peeling.  Sheesh.  And how was I to know you called pickles and olives relish even before you chop them up and put them in a jar????? Whatever.

It was successful and everyone was stuffed to the brim, and that’s the wonderful thing that I am thankful for!

Lettuce Give Thanks…

My phone rang six times yesterday. Gwen was trying to plan Thanksgiving for eleven friends and relatives. I don’t mind giving Gwen advice. I can be a fountain of useful information, and it was laundry day, so I really didn’t mind the interruptions.
I’m glad she’s thinking ahead. It’s October, and Gwen needs a pretty big head start. Two years ago, she was invited to a potluck and asked to make pumpkin pie. She sneaked in with her plastic container, recently purchased to disguise her Mrs. Smith’s frozen pie. Gwen popped the pie – in the box – in the microwave, set it on high, and went to mingle. The smoke alarm went off shortly, and everyone piled into the kitchen. The tin pie plate had caught the box on fire, torching the inside of the microwave. Smoldering black pumpkin-lava oozed to the floor when the hostess opened the door. Gwen took everyone out for dessert and bought a new microwave. It was an expensive holiday.
Call #1
“I’m so excited my friends want me to host this year. Can you believe it? I mean, I’m sure it’s because I have such a great central location and my new window treatments are to die for, but it’s so exciting to host a major holiday! Aren’t you happy for me?”
“Yes, honey, I’m thrilled. What are you going to cook?”
“Well, Colleen is getting the turkey, but we’re going to cook it here. I’m in charge of ham and that green bean stuff, and my mom is doing dessert and rolls.”
“Who’s doing stuffing and gravy? And potatoes?”
“Oh, yeah yeah. Stuffing is Charles and Carol, and gravy is mom’s deal, and…well, I could probably ask mom to help with potatoes too.”
“Sound’s like you’re pretty glad your mom is coming up.”
“Well, she’ll just complain about not having grandchildren, but I might not burn down the building if she’s here.”
At least the pumpkin pie incident gave Gwen a sense of humor about her inability to cook
“So is that all I need? Is that enough for eleven?” Gwen asked.
“I thought you said eleven were coming. Plus you, that’s twelve.”
“Yeah, well, Dana is anorexic so she’ll just push stuff around on her plate. I wasn’t really going to count her.”
“Okay…then yes,” I winced, but I knew Gwen wasn’t being cruel, just realistic. “Cranberry sauce and a relish tray and you’ll be all set.”
“A relish tray? Really? I don’t remember that from mom’s house, but okay.”
“Well, everyone has different traditions, but they are kind of nice to have before the meal.” It was a tradition at my family gatherings to sneak as many olives as you could from the relish tray so Grandma would put out more celery with cheese-in-a-can to fill the empty hole.
“Well, I’ll try it and see how it goes. Gotta run, Nance, thanks for the info!”
Call #2
“So if we’re going to make all this stuff here, what kinds of pots and pans do I need?”
I went through an exhaustive list and she took notes, swearing often about the things she didn’t have and now had to purchase.
“Can’t your mom bring some of these things? Oh, maybe Carol has some stuff you could borrow.” I suggested.
“Yeah, my mom’s going to get a roasting pan and turkey baster through airport security.” Gwen snorted. “But I will call Carol and see if she can help out. I had no idea this was such an expensive holiday! I mean, I usually spend a lot on myself at Christmas but there’s a lot of parties and you just can’t wear the same dress to each one, y’know, so there’s that, and I love all the decorations and stuff – “
“Well, I’m sure your friends will be glad to help out.”
“Okay, and you can just ship up what I can’t get, right?”
“We’ll see. Talk to you soon.” No way was I sacrificing any of my kitchen stuff to the Char Queen. As a last resort, maybe Gwen would get an early Christmas present from me.
Text #3
GWEN: How mny jars 2 get if tray is like Sept Vogue size
ME: Jars of what?
GWEN: Relish! For tray?!?
ME: (I can’t respond: my fingers have been inactivated by the image of pickle relish being poured over a Vogue magazine)
GWEN: I get 4 & hav xtra if evry1 likes THX!
Yes, I called her to apologize for the misunderstanding. And yes, I pondered letting it go just because it would have been really funny. I’m only human.
Call #4
“Okay, I just got off the phone with my mom, and she says there are French fries and onions in the green bean stuff, and now I’m really confused. Can you just send me your recipe?”
I considered telling her I didn’t really have a recipe, no one really does – you just make it. I knew she was under pressure, however, so I told her I’d email it to her. Then I went to type one up.
Call #5
This call, made possible by three-way calling which Gwen has a master’s degree in, involved Gwen, her mother in Lincoln, and me. I was apparently supposed to mediate.
GWEN: Okay, Nancy? Tell my mother I am perfectly capable of buying the ingredients for pumpkin pie if she’ll just send me a list.
MOM: Honey, I didn’t mean it that way, I just thought it would be easier if I brought them, so you have less to worry about.
GWEN: You do not need to pack a pumpkin in your suitcase, mother! I’m sure you can buy them here!
ME: You’re making fresh pumpkin pie?
MOM: Heaven’s no, Nancy, canned is much better for that. Already mashed, you know.
GWEN: So I can buy a can of pumpkins, what is so difficult about that?
MOM: Well, if you’re going to the store that would be fine, dear, and I can bring the rest of the ingredients.
GWEN: What else is in a pumpkin pie, for crying out loud?
MOM: Well you need flour…
GWEN: I have flour.
MOM: …and shortening…
GWEN: I can get shortening.
MOM: You don’t have shortening?
GWEN: No, mother, I don’t keep lard sitting around, but I do know what it is.
MOM: Well, there’s actually a big difference between lard and shortening…
GWEN: Please, mother, go on.
MOM: Okay, let’s see, where was I? Oh, yes, and cinnamon.
GWEN: I have cinnamon.
MOM: Is it the cheap kind? You really do get what you pay for with your spices, you know.
GWEN: It’s cinnamon, mom, for crying out loud. What else do you need?
MOM: Okay, then you need nutmeg, and allspice…
GWEN: I have both of those, mom. I have tons of stuff. See? I have everything you need.
MOM: Well, okay then, if you’ll just pick up the canned pumpkin we’ll be all set.
GWEN: Great. Nancy? Hang on. Goodbye, mother. (Click of mother hanging up.) Okay, Nancy? Do you spell nutmeg with one G or two? And what is the difference between lard and shortening?
Call #6
“Nancy?” Gwen whined, frustrated tears bubbling behind her voice. “I’m at the grocery store with my tape measure, and the biggest thing I can fit in my oven is a chicken, and fried onions are no where near the onions. Is it possible to have Thanksgiving dinner catered? Would that be, like, totally not right?”
I spent the rest of the day researching holiday traditions from around the world and putting together a menu planner for Gwen. I hope she can buy flounder and pomegranate somewhere close.

From Gwen

I used to think Evan was the shit, and now I just think he’s a shit. 

Love you Nancy!!!!!

Coming up for air…

Hey, it’s Nancy and I’m sorry for the sudden long -term  hiatus. Life sort of picked me up by my ankles and shook all the change out of my pockets: Evan left me.
He’s still around to see the kids and work the farm almost every day, but as soon as I can I’m supposed to be out of the farmhouse with the kids and into town somewhere. He told me he’d met a “gal” (I didn’t realize what a backwoods hick he was until he said that) and he thought she was a better partner for him than me. He told me I was too smart, too worldly for him, that he felt like he just needed someone who was a good farmer’s wife. He filed for divorce a week later, and it was final three months after that. That was almost a year ago, and I’m very slowly getting myself ready to move. I don’t want to, and Evan can tell.  He brings boxes every time he comes to get the kids.

But you know, ultimately this is okay… I’ve had to face the fact that maybe I wasn’t a good “farmer’s wife” and maybe he is better off with someone who just sits at the dining room table and smokes and watches soap operas and waits for him to need something.  Which is what she does.  Let’s grace her with a nickname, shall we?  Gwen has already christened her Hoe, both for the fact that she is not above helping destroy a family and it fits with the whole farm wife theme.  Unusually perceptive for Gwen to make such a double entendre on her own.  I would only add Dumb to the beginning because she has got to be the stupidest creature God ever created.  I’ve had chickens that were more perceptive than this woman.  We’ve met several times, and just recently I made a comment to her and Evan about filling the oil leak in the gulf with BP executives.  She actually looked at me, all round eyed and goofy, then looked at Evan and asked what BP was.   Evan was laughing at my comment and had the good grace to clear his throat, blush with embarrassment and usher his lovely bimbo out the door. 

Don’t get me wrong, I blame him for 90% of this.  DumbHoe gets 5% and I’ll take the other 5.  The low percentage doesn’t mean I can’t make fun of her, though.    The one thing I absolutely stood my ground on in the divorce settlement was that she never, under any circumstances, gets to spend time alone with my children.  I told Evan I was sorry if that limited his time with them, but for a woman to get to the age she is (older than me, by the way) and still be that unbelieveably naive does not inspire my trust.  

Anyway, this whole situation has led to hundreds of hours of conversation between Gwen and me (and yes that is the correct grammatical form there – look it up).  We’ve come to a few conclusions about men – let us know what you think. 

1. Men are intimidated by a woman who can take care of herself.  They need to feel like the mighty protector of the damsel in distress, especially as they age.  They look for someone who fails miserably at things like money management, maintaining a motor vehicle, and hooking up electronic equipment because those are the basic things they bring to the relationship.  If they can always come to the rescue for a flat tire or the dreaded unbalancable check book, they are happy campers. 

2. Men are intimidated by a woman who is smart, or smarter than they are.  They look for someone who is at least 10 IQ points below themselves to maintain their superhero status.  Doesn’t take a whole lot of brain cells to fry catfish and clean a bathroom, but a woman who reads the classics just because? Hmmmmm, she may be the smart one in the relationship and that automatically deducts several inches from his perceived penis length. 

So all you single ladies out there, take note: If you are smart and capable and you don’t want to fake being shallow and inane, you’ll have to seek out the prince or dictator of a small country, or a man who belongs to Mensa or teaches astrophysics at an Ivy League school to find someone who sees your intelligence and self-sufficiency as attractive.  Gwen and I would just advise you to learn how to do everything yourself.  And get some “toys” to take care of that other thing.  So much easier.

Wow, I think this divorce has made me even more cynical.  Didn’t think that was possible.  Gwen promises to tell you all about the wedding soon.  She took a hiatus too, out of solidarity.  She’s been on my side like no one else.  God bless you, honey.  Love you!!!

Nancy’s Side of the Roommate Rant

Sorry, I just had to comment. Stu has lived there – I should say crashed there, because he’s really only there about 1/3 of each day and that’s mostly to sleep and shower – six weeks and she’s finally getting around to venting to someone other than me. I have heard about his slovenliness, his cat, his inability to rinse out the sink, his dirty dishes, his weird food (frozen entrees are so uncool in Gwen’s world), his cat, his friends, his slovenliness, his cat… you get the picture. My phone has not stopped ringing, I’m out of text minutes for the year, and my email account has never been so cluttered with stuff that is almost too funny to delete. Here’s an example:

I FOUND A CAT HAIR IN THE FRIDGE. DID YOU GET THAT? IN THE FRIDGE! HOW IN THE NAME OF JESUS CHRIST SUPERSTAR AND EVERYTHING ON THIS GOSH GREEN EARTH DID THAT CAT GET IN THE FRIDGE??????

It’s a looooong time til June 15th.
Apparently Gwen met the fiancee this last weekend, as well. She described her as a New England senator’s daughter who wanted to be a hippie but would have to have the pearls surgically removed from her ass.
I don’t know if Gwen made that up or not, but if she did, I’m impressed.
I am anxious for him to get married and move out, however, because I haven’t been able to let Scotty answer the phone. Three days into Stu’s occupation of Gwen’s sacred apartment and she called our house. Scotty answered the phone because he loves to, and Gwen started right in with a cuss-filled rant about the litter box ending up in her bathroom even though he promised it wouldn’t. Scott hung up on her and started crying. He learns enough words from Evan, I don’t need Gwen to add to that. I scolded her but she continues to do it. Evan doesn’t even answer the phone anymore. It would have been a great opportunity to get caller ID, but Evan still thinks it’s a waste of money. Besides, he’s perfectly happy to not have to answer the phone anymore at all.
So I’m glad she shared with you instead of me this time. I hope she chooses to do this more often. I’d like to be able to text again and not fear ‘getting my ears pierced’ by the phone calls. I also hope this is the only roommate Gwen will ever have. Perhaps her future husband could be a truck driver. Or a prince in a foreign country. Or 97 years old.

Bad News about Gwen’s New Roommate!

Well, okay it’s bad news for him, because he has made me splitting mad, I tell you. Splitting. He is such a total jerk about everything! He never says thank you when I clean the bathroom even though it is totally his turn and has been for about, oh, a HUNDRED YEARS NOW!!! He actually told me that there was no point in cleaning the bathroom daily. I told him, hello, that’s what they make those wipes for, those wonderful things. I’m so glad I don’t have to use so many paper towels anymore, those wipes are just amazing, and so quick you can clean absolutely every day, which BTW you DO need to do because, hello, you use the bathroom every day – germs! Also, he lets his cat prance everywhere, and that thing sheds like a cheap angora sweater but do I complain? NEVER. I just clean up after him and his cat. I don’t think that cat has EVER had a professional grooming and if I have to hire an exterminator for the fleas it probably has (I do not know that it has fleas, but from the way Stu lives it wouldn’t be a huge shocker to me if it did) I will be furious, and all his little buddies, who, BTW, leave the living room a complete DISASTER AREA every time they’re here. You’d think they could straighten a magazine and use a coaster, but NOOOOOOOOO! Okay, so every once in a harvest moon he vacuums, and last week he did clean the microwave after one of those disgusting frozen burritos exploded.
But the last straw stops here, I mean it! This is not going to continue! I will not be forced to dread walking into my kitchen in the morning, knowing I will find sandwich mess ALL OVER THE COUNTER! This is totally unacceptable, and I shouldn’t have to suffer like this! I take TWO HOURS out of MY weekend to clean that kitchen from top to bottom, and that slobby jerk cannot be bothered to clean up so I am stuck with ICKY BREAD CRUMBS AND MAYO GLOBS ALL OVER THE PLACE! It’s so totally gross, I can’t stand it!!!!!
This cannot continue for another month, it just can’t. So here’s what I plan to do. I’m planning to leave him a note on the counter so that he has to move it if he wants to make his sandwich there. Then he will read it because it will be folded and addressed to him and no one can resist reading something that is folded so I guess I wouldn’t even really have to put his name on it, he would be curious enough to read it anyway. The note will say that I would really really really appreciate it if you would please clean the counter after you are done making your sandwich, please. And I plan to leave out the spray cleaner and some wipes, too, and the microfiber cleaning cloth that doesn’t leave those streaks on the counter. Whatever is easiest for him to use, he can decide and then when he is done with his mess he will clean it up and I can have a wonderful stress free day knowing that I will walk into a perfectly clean kitchen in the morning.
Wish me luck!

Gwen’s New Roommate! (and comments about the whole bridesmaid thing)

Hi everyone!  I have such exciting news – I have a roommate!  He, yes, he, is just a friend.  He has a girlfriend, actually a fiancée, and they are getting married in June but his lease on his apartment was up in March so he just needed a place to stay until they get a place together.  Did I tell you about this before? I think I did, I met him at a party.

Anyway, he is really very nice even though he has a cat and I am so not a cat person.  I can’t stand the way they are licking themselves all the time and what kind of horrible invention was the litter box anyway? Those are the grossest things, really.  When I watch Colleen’s cat Satan and I scoop out the litter box I practically have to run home and shower.  It’s just awful.  But anyway, Stu said he would take care of his own cat’s litter box and so that is a good thing.  It’s not like a Martha Good Thing, because there will still be a litter box in my apartment, but only for a little while, and it will be in Stu’s room.  He promised.  Colleen keeps hers in her bathroom.  Well not her littler box but the cat’s litter box.  You know what I mean.  Gross.

Okay so back to my new roommate.  His name is Stuart but everyone calls him Stu and I thought at first that his name was Stew, like beef stew, and I asked him why his parents named him after a food, and he just laughed and said it was short for Stuart like Stuart Little and I said oh yeah that movie where Michael J. Fox plays the mouse.  I used to have such a huge crush on Michael J. Fox when he was on Family Ties.  I really thought they should have paired him up with a blonde girl to loosen him up just a bit, that would have been really a great plot move, but they just kept sticking him with those brunettes but fortunately they were smarter than his sister, but not nearly as funny, and not really as good an actress.

Anyway, Stu moved in two weekends ago, and so far things are going pretty well.  My poor CoCos and YumYums were so sad having to give up their sun room, but really they will adjust pretty well.  And they can have it back for the warmest months here, too, so that’s good.  That’s a Martha Good Thing, actually! Stu is getting married in June and then they can live together.  I really don’t understand the whole thing about not living together.  Stu says it’s about being chased before you are married, which I can’t see how that is a very religious way of doing things, but since I haven’t been to church since my mother – who is also named Martha, BTW but she’s not as creative as THE Martha and not nearly as handy around the house –

Okay sorry I reread that sentence a few times but I still don’t remember what I was talking about, so I’m just going to tell you about Stu some more.  He put a lot of his furniture in storage after he came over to see my place, because he said he really liked how I had things set up and he didn’t need his stuff anyway, except for his bedroom stuff, so YAY I get to keep my living room just the way it was.  I put the puppy loveseat, ottoman, and their rugs in the corner of the living room that normally has a plant in it.  I had this wonderful schifflera it was so beautiful and I don’t know what happened to it for sure but all the leaves fell off and I called lots of places but no one could help me figure out what was wrong with it so I had to throw it out.  I kept the pot because it was from World Market and totally goes great with my end tables, but right now it is in the storage area in the basement of my building, so that corner was available for the puppsters!  And if you thougt Nancy was kidding about people sending cards when a plant dies, she wasn’t because I did get several cards when I had to throw out that plant.  A plant that goes perfect in your corner is hard to find!

Anyway, enough about Stu, he’s a good roommate for a little while, and I get to save some on the rent for a little while.

I know you’re all wondering about Moo’s wedding.  Well, here’s where my mind has gone on this one.

I went to the store.  It’s called Square Dance Towne, like putting the e on the end makes it more fancy or something.  Actually it was very clean and there were no spots on the mirrors, which were large but then they would have to be for some of Moo’s friends.  One of them was there trying on the same dress, and she came out of the dressing room at the same time I did and she asked if I was in Moo’s wedding, well she didn’t call her Moo, but out of respect I’m trying to disguise her identity like Nancy DIDN’T, so I said yes I was in the wedding too, so now I guess I’m officially in the wedding now that I admitted it to this person I don’t know who is actually going to make Moo look thin on her wedding day.

And okay I have a tiny little confessional to make.

The dress is actually kind of fun to wear.  The skirt sort of flounces around and makes these fun swishing noises when you walk.  And I don’t care what Moo says, I’m wearing heels. My own heels, not those disgusting swing choir flag core things from the store.  The woman behind the counter was very nice and she said she recommended a smaller wider flatter heel becuase of where the ceremony was, but that’s probably because she doesn’t know how much experience I have in heels. I’m not wearing an ugly shoe in addition to this dress. I’m just not.  If Nancy ever lets me post pictures I will send some.  I don’t think she will, she says it’s not that kind of site and she just wants to tell the story.  She has her own story to tell you all about her pictures from her mission trips.  You should ask her.  And also before she criticizes someone about their spelling and grammar errors she needs to proofread a little better.  Sorry, Nans, but there were a few booboos!  Love you!

Always a Bridesmaid…

So Gwen calls me last night and tells me I have to go open my email IMMEDIATELY and call her back.  She said she sent pictures and I have to help her.

I was thinking it’s some disaster with furniture arrangement with this new roommate moving in next week, but its worse.  Worse in that way only Gwen can attract.

 

Let’s preface this with a little history.  Gwen has been a bridesmaid in so many weddings she could write a book about it.  She was Maid of Honor at my wedding, and since I too had been in my share of weddings, I wanted mine to be different.  My two attendants and the flower girl got to wear whatever they wanted as long as it was red.  Gwen got to splurge on a fantastic classic cocktail dress that she still wears, and she talks about my wedding as if it was the best thing ever since she didn’t have to have ugly shoes dyed an ugly color and wear a gigantic bow anywhere on her person.  Gwen and I both have our share of gigantic bows, fake pearls, and hideous shoes.  I have not been asked to be in a wedding since Scott was born, but Gwen gets asked annually.  Some of these weddings are in amazing places – she’s been to Hawaii, London, and a Jamaican cruise just to stand next to someone and cry when they say “I do.”  Most of them are in Minneapolis or Nebraska, and she told me a month ago that she got asked to be in a May wedding this year.  She wasn’t that excited about it – it’s for a co-worker.  The email was a forward from said co-worker, and now Gwen’s lack of excitement has turned to pure unadulterated panic.  I’m sympathetic but I also had trouble keeping a straight face long enough to call her back.  Now, to the email.

 

To: Gwen

From: Regina

Re: Wedding Plans

Hi! I’m so excited your going to be in our wedding and Cliff is happy to.  Heres the pictures from the store we found the dresses at.  You can just go and tell them your size and they will get you the right one. Your pretty tall so you might want flats instead of the heels everyone else is wearing, but you can see how you look in the mirrors at the store. Were going to have cloth flowers so everyone can keep them as a keepsake but thanks anyway for the number for that flower shop.  They were so expensive but very nice.  And I tried to go to that web cite you told me about but they don’t have the music from Miss Loretta Lynn I wanted, so were still looking for that. 

See you at work!!!

 

Okay, now you have to guess what style the dresses are.  Your clues are: Regina’s horrible spelling and grammar errors, the fact that she’s perfectly happy having fake flowers as wedding favors, and that she want music from Miss Loretta Lynn.

Yes, the dresses are SQUARE DANCING DRESSES!  These are blue and yellow gingham with so many petticoats that the skirts form 90 degree angles at the hips.  Gwen has the legs for this, but since she consistently refers to Regina as Moo, I’m assuming that the rest of the wedding party will be a photographer’s nightmare. 

So I get myself to a point where I can call Gwen back without cracking up (the visual is pretty entertaining, isn’t it?) and she’s in tears.

“She always wears normal stuff at work, I mean, not great stuff, but like nice for JCPenny, and I only asked her to lunch with me that one time because she needs to diet but for like the first three weeks she worked here she just sat at her desk and ate carrot sticks which are so high in sugar and totally not the right diet food, so I took her to that salad bar I love, and now we’re like best friends or something, and omigod Nancy, what the hell am I going to do? I CANNOT wear that!”

I told Gwen I had a couple ideas:

1. Invent a relative to get very sick and die about 5 days before the wedding, take some vacation time and get out of town.

2.  Tell Regina you feel that being a bridesmaid is for family and close friends, not co-workers

Gwen didn’t like option 1.  She didn’t want to take time off work, and it would involve lying to everyone and probably getting sympathy cards to which she would have to respond and that would just create more work.  I had to admit that was a good point, because Gwen does know enough people who would be very sorry for her loss.  Gwen knows people who send sympathy cards if a houseplant dies or someone has to change hairstylists.

Option 2 didn’t meet with a whole lot of enthusiasm either, because it involved backing out of something and Gwen hates to do this.  It’s tantamount to admitting she was wrong or made a mistake, and Gwen’s just not fond of what she dramatically views as complete and total personal humiliation. 

So I told her she was going to have to go and be a good sport.  “There might be some cute guys there.  You’d be a really good friend to do this, you know.” 

Gwen just snorted, but I could tell from the tone of the snort that my comment had sparked some interest.

I’m secretly hoping she meets Mr. Right at this wedding.  Of course he’d be Mr. Okey Dokey.  Or Mr. Yup. 

Okay, I’m really just dying to see pictures of Gwen in these amazingly awful square dancing dresses.  And yes, I finally got over the hiccups about two hours after this conversation.

Gwen’s Side of the White Sale

Drat that Nancy sometimes.  I really wanted to tell you all about the White Sale, it was so cool!  But she really only told you part of the story, so I’ll tell you the rest so you can get the whole experience.  And then you’ll be inspired to get up early and go to some good sales yourself, or redo your bathroom, or put something beautiful in your own home, that is my wish for you!  Hugs and smiles!!

Okay, so I set my alarm for 7am, which on a Saturday just seemed really really early and my clock almost didn’t want to do it.  I kept pushing the button and the little green numbers kept jumping right over 7 and going straight to 9 which is still early but it took forever to push the button one number at a time so it would stop on the 7!  Finally it worked and then I went to sleep.

Oh, before that I do have to tell you about this party just a little because there was this guy there who said he was looking for an apartment to share in my neighborhood for a few months, and I think he’s a nice guy, he has a girlfriend who already has two roommates and she’s Catholic so I think that means she can’t have her boyfriend as a roommate and they are getting married in July but his lease is up now.  All his buddies were patting him on the back and saying what a trooper he was.  Apparently she’s not that attractive or something, but they say love is blonde, so maybe she’s just a brunette.  Anyway, his name is Stu and he is really very nice, and we talked just a little about the fact that I have another bedroom in my apartment that just has the puppies’ furniture in it but I could move that, and CoCo and YumYum would probably get along with his cat.  So we got each other’s numbers and he’s coming over next week to look at the place.  I hope he doesn’t have too much furniture of his own because seriously I have the front room set up in a great MetHome way I wouldn’t want to change it too much.

Okay, so I got up and got to the parking lot expecting to have to practically strip the gears to get a great parking spot because old people don’t move as fast and you can sometimes get around the aisle first but sometimes it is very hard on the car.  But to my surprise there were not that many cars, not as many as there are in the afternoon anyway, so I got a parking spot without fighting!  What a great start to my shopping adventure, I thought. 

Wow, I walked in the store and what a wonderful sight.  The clothing was almost all still on the hangers and the racks and shelves looked really good still.  You know how when you go to some of those sales and by the time you get there the racks are like hiding somewhere under all the clothes people have just yanked off the hangers and tossed back over the top of the rack and the poor salespeople are storming around like zombies trying to keep up with everything.  Well, this wasn’t like that yet!

So I walked around the clothes for a little while, but I really don’t need anything new this season, and I haven’t gotten this month’s Vogue yet so I don’t know for sure what I’m going to want for next season.  So then I went to the cosmetics counter, but I’m a die hard SherriLynn wearer and so I just looked at the skin care lines and fragrances and stuff, but again I have my own stuff really that I like so I was just looking. 

And then they had this big sign that said 40% off all Ralph Lauren Bed and Bath, and well that is huge!  I love Ralph Lauren stuff, not his clothes so much, they are kind of masculine even the dresses and stuff and really not my style but I like his house wears a lot, great patterns, and so I like ran across the store and started looking at the bedding. 

I still didn’t get all excited really because there was nothing new, it was all the same patterns of sheets and comforters that I have seen before since last year, but then I thought: TOWELS.  I thought about the emerald green towels in my bathroom that I’d been wanting to replace forever, they are like two years old, and so I went to the bath section and then I got really excited!

They had this whole section of beautiful eggplant towel sets and rugs and even a shower curtain with a pretty marble of gold running through the outer sheer, but it seemed silly to have a fabric thing trying to look like a stone thing, so I thought that was not a good idea. And I have my Pottery Barn bath mat made of loops of chamois cloth that I absolutely adore, so don’t need a rug.  But the towels, oh my goodness, I was so thrilled about the towels.  See, in my bathroom there is this thin little row of quarter round tile that goes around the room like a chair rail only it’s tile and it’s higher, and there’s tile on top of it too, but it’s a different color, and the thin row of tile is this really cool eggplant color and everything else in the bathroom is cream and emerald green.  The landlord did a really good job on this bathroom and that is the main reason I wanted this apartment, that and the way the living room windows are partially shaded by this wonderful tree. 

Anyway, the towels perfectly match this tile, and they really do look fantastic.  When you are in Minneapolis come over and I will gladly show you!

Now, are you inspired to go buy something beautiful and on sale?  Good!

The White Sale

Gwen called me at 12:59 pm last Saturday, which is early for Gwen.  She had really good news and couldn’t wait to share, and she knows the babies go down for naps around 1.

            “I made it, Nancy!  I actually got myself out of bed and showered and ready to go on time, and I made it!  It was so fabulous!  Stuff was on the right shelves, things were marked correctly, and people were actually nice to each other!”

            “You made it where?  It sounds great!”

            “The White Sale at Macy’s!  You know if you get there early things are actually in the right places and the tags aren’t all messed up and the good stuff is still there?  Well, I never make it there early because I’m always still sleeping, of course.”

            “Of course.” 

            “Well, last night I was at this party that really was pretty fun, but the cute guys were all still working on their careers so, not worth it, right?  So I decided that getting to this sale on time was more important than finding Mr. Might be Right Someday, so I left early, set my alarm and actually got there while all the good stuff was still there!”

Gwen was so proud of herself.  I decided I wouldn’t tell her that before noon most days I have made three beds, fed a ridiculous number of ungrateful animals, started a load of laundry, made a phone call, fixed a sack lunch and two meals for four kids, completed a minor household repair, and cleaned a carpet stain. 

            “That’s great!  What did you buy?” 

               “Towels!  I bought – new – towels!”  she said with an excited catch in her voice.  I fought the urge to roll my eyes and sigh.  Okay, my eyes rolled of their own volition, but I contained the sigh.

            “What kind of towels?  Did you get a good deal?”  I thought of the six scratchy yellow-flowered towels I found at a garage sale last summer for $2.50 that no one in my family will use.  The dogs don’t even like to be dried off with them.  Not a good deal.

            “Oh, Nancy, they are wonderful!  They are 100% Egyptian cotton, a fabulous eggplant color that totally, completely and perfectly matches the accent tile in my bathroom, and they were on sale for $34 a set!  Can you believe that?”

               “Actually, no.  What comes in a set, and what were they originally?”  For $34 they should wash and fold themselves, I thought.

            “Well, silly, a set of towels is a bath towel, a hand towel, and a washcloth!  Don’t you ever shop anywhere but discount stores?  Anyway, they’re Ralph Lauren Bed and Bath, so normally they’re, like, $60 or something.  So aren’t you proud of me, getting such a good deal?  And you thought you were the only bargain hunter – HAH!” she snorted in a good natured way.

            “That’s great, Gwen.  And I know you find good deals.  I remember the 10% discount you got on that pair of pants at Lerner’s because the button was loose and you told the sales clerk you’d have to have a tailor fix it.”  I know what you’re thinking  - that’s not really a bargain.  It’s the only time I can remember Gwen not paying retail for something. And yes, I fixed the button.

“See, I can do this sale thing just as good as you!  Okay, so I was thinking about hanging the bath towel unfolded over the bar and then folding the washcloth into a triangle and draping that over the top, but I think I should see if I can find another bath towel in the cream to go in between them to set off the eggplant a little more…”

Thirty minutes later, Gwen was still going over all the decorator possibilities for her new towels.  I personally liked the first thing she mentioned because it involved Gwen hanging up to go back to the sale and look for cream colored towels.  Cordless phone ever in hand, I walked into my own “guest” bathroom and took a quick look around.  In the original house this was a storage closet, and Grandpa Daniel started the transformation to bathroom but only got as far as putting in a toilet.  We finished the makeover, and had to put in a new subfloor because, for some reason, no one felt the need to aim carefully or clean very often when it was half broom closet half bathroom.  I painted it yellow with white trim and put up plain white porcelain towel bars.  Gwen informed me on one of her visits that navy blue or royal blue or even bright teal towels would be stunning with the yellow and white.  To this day, the only towel that ever seems to end up in there is a red and green kitchen towel with the Coca-Cola polar bears on it.  Not so stunning, but useful, and it kind of helps the original old toilet (that I have cleaned thoroughly), which we still can’t afford to replace, not stand out so much. 

            No, I just can’t see spending $34 on towels that will be used to dry sort-of clean hands and faces, wipe the floor after the toddlers are done playing in the toilet, and will need to be washed several times a week until they fade and fall apart.  At Gwen’s apartment, not even her guests will use the guest towels.  All her single, childless friends will understand the importance of perfectly matched Ralph Lauren eggplant and cream towels artistically hung from the Restoration Hardware wrought iron towel bar.

            My husband and older kids got home from their monthly trip to McDonald’s with Evan’s brother Dean and their cousin Lucy.  I said goodbye to Gwen and sent my family to wash their hands in the guest bathroom.  I went in later and used the polar bear towel to wipe the counter, the mirror, the walls next to the sink, and the floor, and then it went into the laundry for the third time this week.  I promised Gwen I would at least look for blue towels the next time I went anywhere besides Goodwill.  I’ll probably look at Goodwill, too.