It's been over a month since embarking on our mid-century modern adventure. Although, nothing has changed with the house and it's still completely empty, we have found the perfect contractor. He's hip to the whole MCM groove and is known for his work. Because he's good, he's in demand. Meaning that we will have to wait for him. Giving us plenty of time to blue tape the house with our vision.
Meanwhile, we're happy playing in the pool.
I'm convinced that my husband and I have gone mad. We recently fell in love with an original 1958 mid-century modern home on an old swanky country club golf course in Rancho Mirage. The house, which has been in the same family since being built, has pretty much retained its original state. We're talking pink tile bathrooms, naked ladies and palm trees etched on glass shower doors, camel and Shojii screen wallpaper, terrazzo floors and a huge curved natural stone wall. We fell in love. We bought it. Now the adventure begins.
To our delight, the house qualifies for the Mills Act. Meaning that if approved, drastically reduced property taxes!! Let's keep our fingers crossed, because we are going to need the extra cash to give our girl a facelift. We don't want her to look different, just fresh.
We're looking forward to bringing back the home's original hip vibe and hosting cocktail parties by the pool. I'm already busy picking out my retro outfit for Palm Spring's Modernism Week next February. This is when mad for mod enthusiasts like my husband and me join together to pay tribute to the style and architecture of the era. Yep, we've gone MOD!
I deactivated. I survived.
When I was a kid, I had an overwhelming desire to pull the school fire alarm. Even now, when I see that little red box on the wall I find myself resisting the temptation. The only thing stopping me is the grownup knowledge that the consequences outweigh the thrill.
Instead, I decided to press the deactivation button on my Twitter account. Since my commitment to Twitter has never been strong, deciding to break-up wasn’t difficult.
Twitter, on the other hand, was a bit reluctant to let me go – probing me with questions like a jilted lover. “Is this goodbye? Are you sure you won’t reconsider? Was it something we said?" Warning me that my actions would be final. Wow, I didn't realize how much Twitter cared. Having been on the receiving end of breakup more than once, I felt Twitter's pain.
“It’s me, not you,” I said to that cute little crying blue bird as I scanned the deactivation page. As not to add insult to injury, I refrained from saying what I really felt, “I’m just not that into you” and quickly hit the button.
I was bit disappointed. As soon as pressed the button it still wasn’t over. Before I could actually deactivate, I had to put in my password one last time. Talk about anticlimactic. The thrill was gone and soon was my Twitter account.
I finally figured out where I developed my warped sense of humor. It was from Alfred E. Newman, a friend of my brother's in the early 70s. My big bro was an avid reader of Mad Magazine and was kind of enough to let his little sister read the questionable material. From the cover to the folding back page, I savored each page. I never totally understood all the content, but I knew enough to know that it was good stuff.
So what do I do? I pass on the tradition by giving my 8-year-old son his very own subscription to Mad. His reaction to the his first issue was total intrigue. The content is bolder, sexier and even more snarky than I remember. Still making making fun of people, politics, and current events. Still making me laugh my socks off.
Some of the subject matter is without a doubt unsuitable for a 2nd grader. So I talked to my son about the magazine and that he probably shouldn't be reading it. He agreed that he wouldn't let it corrupt his brain or blame me for ruining his mind. I justify letting him read the magazine by convincing myself that it will spark more interest in people, politics and current events. Yes, I'm delusional.
With those minors details out of the way, the tradition continues.
And here I am again, a pass-along-reader of Mad Magazine. Some things never change.
When I volunteered to be the team mom for son's baseball team, I liked to think it was from the goodness of my heart, but I can't. It was for the power. The power of the highly coveted snack ticket that the team mom is in charge of distributing after each game.
You would think that our little leaguers play for the love of the game, but no. They play for pay and pay is in form of sugary snacks after the game. When I took on this job, I promised to use my power for good and not evil. Is making the boys wash my car before giving out the tickets evil?
Another perk to being the team mom is being included in the team photo. Since I still feel the sting of not making my high school basketball team or any sports team for that matter, I was thrilled to be smack dab in the middle the Red Sox team shot. Gushing perhaps and loving every minute of it.
Check it out. I just added two buttons to my sidebar. It only took me all day and two computers to figure it out. However, I'm very excited to annouce that I am offically a member of The Glamorous Life Association and an Orange County Blogger.
Yipee! Two very important buttons indeed. Please share in my joy by clicking away.
It's noon and the boys and I are still in our pajamas. It's a holiday and what better way to celebrate than doing nothing at all? Well, I can't say that this is a guilt-free celebration. There are so many things I should be doing - instead, I'm on the computer and my kids are watching TV. I did, however, have a photo contest. Each son took a picture of me. My four-year-old won by capturing the image of me above.
According to my four-year-old son, this week he had the best day EVER at preschool — the same day that his buddy Ryan threw-up on him. Aside from worrying about the condition of his barf-soaked Skatedogs shirt, Nick was as happy as a lark.
Knowing that Nick is pretty easy going, it didn’t surprise me that being the unintended receiver of a schoolmate’s vomit was no big deal to him. But this being the best day EVER at school had me baffled — I had to know more.
Nick explained to me that when he changed out of his soiled shirt into a fresh one, the girls in his class saw his muscles and were impressed. Yep, my Adonis basked in the attention from the little ladies. Funny, since he had pretty much sworn off girls since his beloved Lily moved away last summer. Evidently, this is just what Nick needed — a nice ego boost.
Yes, there are benefits to having your buddy barf on you. Thanks, Ryan!
What possessed me to want a pomeranian? This layout in Vogue last summer put me over the edge. Now, after looking at it again, I'm convinced we need another fluff ball. His and her pom-poms - a must have. Along with an upgraded wardrobe, hairstylist, makeup artist, etc...
I didn't think Pierce Bronson could be anymore handsome...until I saw this.
Yesterday, while reading the LA Times, I learned about a blog titled Daily Routines. It focuses on "how writers, artists, and other interesting people organize their days." From Emily Dickinson to Charles Darwin, I found it to be fascinating. However, the only person I could relate to was William Wegman who's mornings are busy taking care of
kids dogs. In any case, it inspired me to come back to Brain Bunnies. I love to be inspired. Thanks, Mason Currey, for launching your blog.
Gino and I went to the premier of "Marley & Me" last night. Would you believe that it was the first time in six years that we have been to a movie together? It was so much fun. At the end of the red carpet you could have your photo taken with Marley. While we were waiting for all the A-listers to be seated they projected the photos onto the big screen. Well, here we are. Now, my wannabe actor husband is convinced that the producers will be calling him to star in their next production. If anyone gets a call, it's going to be Louie Bear our dog...we're talking star material here.
It's not easy being four - just ask my son who's under the table at Red Robin's. The resister, as I now call him, hasn't felt like joining in any reindeer games. No games, no school, no dinner, no fun. Nothing has been going right for the poor guy. As we were finishing our dinner we finally coaxed him to come up and eat his corn dog. He didn't want a corn dog, he wanted a burger. But, his hunger prevailed and he devoured the dog. It was a tough week and the look on his face sums it up perfectly. Nothing like eating dinner while your child cries under the dinner table.
Cheers to a new week.
Last week on my way out to Catalina with the family, I starting obsessing about the newspaper. However, I was happy to see a boatload of readers on the ferry. I felt like a secret agent as I snapped shots of people and their papers. Today, I have taken my obsession a step further by writing about it in my OC Register website blog.
P.S. What I thought were napkins on the boat table, actually were barf bags. Makes sense.
UPDATE: The Orange County Register published my story in the real paper. Yep, I got some ink in the fishwrap!
My family and I are back from a wonderful Thanksgiving holiday on Catalina Island and I'm so thankful to be back to blogging. I am so thankful for so many things - especially my readers - all three of you. Thank you.
I'm so thankful for my husband who has embraced my dream of having a dog again. Devil Dog aka Louie is our Pomeranian aka pom pom - this is what us pom-pom owners call our dogs. Yes, we've turned into pom-pom people. Some people wear pom-poms on their skates - my husband wears his on his shoulder. Cheers to all the pom-poms in the world!
...and the hose caddy won. To me, a hose caddy is one of those useless garden accessories. Do I really need a 1000 feet of connected hose in a big ugly box with a crank on the side? I've never had a problem winding up my hose all by myself. Nope, I don't need this thing and I really don't like it. Picking up on my negative vibes, Mr. Caddy now refuses to cooperate. It got pretty ugly last week and this how the ordeal ended. Today it still looks like this. The caddy may have won the battle, but I'm going to win the war. I've got plans for you caddy boy.
Watch out, I have a habit of deeming you my best friend just because I like you. For example, the top two bloggers in Orange County, Suz and Marcy, are my best friends. My award winner writer friend, Preston Lerner (who writes for Orange Coast Magazine) is another BFF, and of course my sons' school PTA president, Shannon Maddux is my latest best friend.
I even have a best friend who has his feet and hand prints immortalized in concrete in front of the ultra cool Huntington Surf and Sport shop. Devil Dog was so impressed that he just had to compare his paws to the legend's.
Yep, Corky Carroll and me are pals. Well, at least for one day that is. You see, last April I e-mailed The Corkster to see if he was still living in HB. I was including him in my blog over at the OC Register and wanted to make sure I had my facts straight. Anyway, he asked me if I wanted to write a little something for his column. 700 words later I had pretty much written his entire column for the week. I think he really dug that he could take off and do some surfing instead of typing. And, I really had fun putting why I love being a Surf City mom into words.
I just had my eyes done. What do you think? I opted for a pair of big brown doe-like peepers. My doctors says I now have the eyes of a model. I think he means that literally.
I feel so glamorous and can't wait to make my debut over at The Glamorous Life Association G.I.R.L. Party. I just know everyone is going to want my doctor's number.
This weekend I put on my reporter hat, grabbed my family, jumped in the minivan, and headed east to do some investigating. Why? Because, a prestigious publication tapped me to do a little digging in the desert to see what I could find.
What I found was some mighty big dinosaurs and a sprawling adobe dwelling that I found surprisingly inspirational. My mind is now busting with brain bunnies and I’m starting to toss them into a story that will hopefully turn into a fascinating travel article.
And to top off this adventure, the boys and I stayed in the ultra cool Andreas Hotel in downtown Palm Springs. This little 1930’s architectural gem is conveniently tucked away behind the main street. Loved it
I'm digging the desert vibe.
P.S. You haven't lived until you've seen the inside of a T-Rex's mouth.
All you bunny buffs out there have probably already seen this little creature - not me. My husband just forwarded an e-mail to me with this at the end of the message.
All I can say is LOVE IT.
Every Halloween, my husband becomes one of my favorite TV characters - the immortal Captain Kirk. Yeah, baby! Next year I’m thinking of becoming one of those sexy aliens that Kirk seduces. He seemed to do that a lot on the show.
Anyway, this year I went with witchy, like my blogger friend at Marcy Writes. But, the ever glamorous Marcy took being a witch to a whole new level. It remains to be seen what my other blogger friend Suz was…I’m thinking Alice in Wonderland maybe?
Oh yes, Superman and a crafty Ninja went trick-or-treating with us. They were just props so we could bag some candy. And of course Devil Dog lived up to his name.
It’s a beauty. Yes, an early 1980’s Chevy truck.
A couple of months ago when I spotted this in our neighbor’s driveway, I was smitten. My neighbor's father bought this truck brand new and recently passed it on to his son.
Come to find out, there are some pretty interesting stories that go along with this truck. Maybe I can get my award winning writer friend, Preston Lerner, who mentioned me in his Last Days of the the Minivan story to write about it.
Now, this ultra cool truck is towing my neighbor’s boat down to Newport. That is, until he drives it to Iowa and passes it on to his brother. I think this cutie of a truck is going to feel quite at home amongst the fields of corn. Meanwhile, I’m going to admire it while I can.
During an election year, I don't even give all those campaign signs a second thought. But this one really caught my eye. Those clever surfers at Hurley get my vote for most creative candidate. This Huntington Beach mom surely appreciates a good boardshort - I just can’t find Phantom on my mail-in ballot.
I swear, this isn’t a paid endorsement. But, in a way, I do consider Spot Shot my sponsor, and savior, since the company that owns this brand employs my husband, and the actual product has worked miracles on my carpet. In “my glamorous life” as a mom, I’ve had the pleasure of cleaning up after two little boys, and now a devilish little puppy. I have to tell you, I have fended off those dreaded “P” stains - both pee and poop. The stuff really works…and not just because I get it for free by the gallons.
Here I am happily cleaning up dog pee. Yes, that is the devil dog behind me - plotting his next move.
Check me out in the Orange County Register today. My story, about me (the slacker mom) and the PTA president, is on the cover of the Life Section in the paper. If you don’t do paper, you can read it by clicking here.
The response has been incredible. Suddenly, everyone knows my name at school. Pretty cool for a shy girl.
I was supposed to shutdown my computer and devote the last 24 hours to cleaning. I failed. Just like I when I tried to go cold-turkey on my cheese addiction, I was setting myself up for failure. I did clean. My floors were gleaming - for about 90 minutes until my boys came home and the dog found an unopened juice box to chew on. I never even made it upstairs to clean those ungodly toilets. I just had to see what was happening in the lives of my favorite bloggers. Once I was online, I was a goner.
My husband totally busted me when I replied to an e-mail he had sent me. This brings me to my unhealthy obsession with checking my e-mail. You'd think I was waiting for the Pope to contact me to bless my blog, or something. And as for Googling myself, well I don’t know if I even want to go there.
This whole blogging thing has a tight hold on me and you know what? I like it!
Things are getting really bad here at the house. When I say bad, I mean bad smelling. When you have two little boys, and a puppy, the stink factor is incredible. So bad, that my nose has shut down and I’ve gone from having a sensitive snout to not being able to smell my perfume.
I think my nose is in survival mode and has gone into shock. With that being said, it’s time for me to clean the house. I mean really clean - wash floors, clean toilets, scrub tubs, vacuum, polish stuff, do laundry, etc., etc., etc., Wow, I really don't want to this but...
In order to make this happen I will be turning off my computer for the next 24 hours. I hope that my mind doesn’t go into shock too.
I’m going to miss my bloggy friends – all two of you! But you know how it is when dirty calls.
Right now I wish I had an Alice.
This week I did something out of character for me. I bought a pair of designer jeans. I’ve always been true to my Levis and have never strayed - even during the years when Brook Shields was going on about nothing coming between her and Calvin Kleins.
My grandpa wore Levis, my dad wore Levis, and my brother still wears Levis. This is how deep my Levis roots are. When I lived in the Bay Area, I went to the Levis headquarters in San Francisco to visit their museum…and of course drop off a resume
I don’t know what possessed me, but I tried on a pair of Lucky jeans, and hey, they looked pretty darn good. I looked at the tag and they were $98. Hmmm… not so bad, I’d seen worse price tags. So I took the plunge and bought them.
When I got home and started to take off all the tags I noticed this. What the heck does this mean? Those silly marketing people, as if they think they could really fool me.
Translation: MOM JEANS. Did they really have to mention that they are EASY FIT. MID RISE I can handle, but EASY FIT is in no way cool.
I already miss my Levis
Why did you setup this blog? Because, Suz from Alive in Wonderland made me do it. One day she asked me “why don’t you start your own blog?” I replied, “I’m not a blogger.” At this point, Suz probably thought I was a little odd, since this conversation took place at a launch party for OC Moms where we are both mom bloggers for the Orange County Register’s website. When I went home that day I wondered to myself, why I didn’t consider myself a real blogger. I think Suz already had me figured out and over several months gently pushed me into creating my very own blog. She calls herself bossy, I call her inspirational. Now, I feel as though I’ve got my new dress on and I have finally arrived at the party. Now, it’s time to mingle.
Why did you setup this blog?
Because, Suz from Alive in Wonderland made me do it. One day she asked me “why don’t you start your own blog?” I replied, “I’m not a blogger.” At this point, Suz probably thought I was a little odd, since this conversation took place at a launch party for OC Moms where we are both mom bloggers for the Orange County Register’s website.
When I went home that day I wondered to myself, why I didn’t consider myself a real blogger. I think Suz already had me figured out and over several months gently pushed me into creating my very own blog. She calls herself bossy, I call her inspirational.
Now, I feel as though I’ve got my new dress on and I have finally arrived at the party. Now, it’s time to mingle.
Come on in and feel free to browse around. Never mind the mess, I just moved in and I’m just starting to organize and arrange things.
This morning I'm off to Disneyland with the family for a Halloween adventure, so I won't be back until tomorrow. Meanwhile, have a wonderful Saturday.
Please come back soon to find out what this Brain Bunnies stuff is all about.
Oh jeez, the dog just barfed on my kitchen towel that somehow fell on the floor.
Welcome to my life.