Enough of the color, here’s my lazy man’s blog. Sorry but I’m beat. The latest…
Today my Mom blew up my phone (we have a huge installation going at the Hollywood Bowl so you can imagine this was perfect timing) to tell me that she had a top that needed a little sizzle. The answer? I swear on my life, pantyhose. She’s over the moon because she’s got different shades of pantyhose that she’s somehow merging into a scarf. The added bonus? These hose are snared or what’s the word? have runs in them so she’s recycling or maybe upcycling? Natch. Let me get this straight: Plain shirts needs some action. Natural solution? Worn, torn, snagged and rumpled panty hose. Gotcha.
My four year old is deathly afraid of fireworks. We live above the Rose Bowl. They are shooting off fireworks day and night preparing for the big situation on the 4th. He is behaving like a dog after an earthquake. Would it count as a write off if we wanted to move to a hotel for a week?
My daughter continues to remain the size of a small buffalo. Her head is, I swear, bigger than mine. The booty belongs to J.Lo. She’s two.
The book is done (just proofing.) Thank you goodness, heaven above. This has been torture. I think authors, like teachers should make about a billion dollars. Painful, painful that heady work.
I am currently experiencing a decoupage obsession. As far as I’m concerned everything should be covered in fine tissue and bits of bevnaps. This is not going over well at home and all of my manicures have been decimated due to overgluing. Want some inspiration? Check out: Zinnia.biz
Sunday is the fourth and I have spent so much time talking about this Apple Brown Betty that I am going to cook that I better turn the oven on because I’ve got about as much energy as a fly. Not even that much. Flies kind of buzz around. All I can think about is vodka.
Back to the four year old. If I’m obsessed with decoupage, he’s obsessed with butterflies. Mama, gonna get bootiful butterflies turn into catapillas? Um, other way around buddy. The world would stop spinning on its axis if our delicate winged creatures turned back into worms.
My muffin top has grown substantially. I clearly have gone from sugar addiction to full blown anxiety about getting my next fix. So I turned to hoodia pops. I am now totally breaking out again because of the hoodia. Cleansing with water and lemon. Now I’m jonesing for vodka. I think I can see where this weekend is going.
No, I am not going anywhere exciting for the summer. This is devastating. In fact, I need to get away to a beautiful island resort. But I can’t spend any more money on travel. If you are a luxury hotel and I can pimp myself out to you in exchange for blogs, Tweets, business coaching or how to glam up your menus and event business, Tweet me @thepartygoddess. I’ll be on a plane tomorrow. SERIOUSLY.
Another thing I can’t stop thinking about? Marinating my Bazooka Joe in vodka. Maybe I can do that this weekend and get some energy.
Sounds like a plan. Signing off for now peeps. Kisses!
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