Help wanted.

This is my second attempt at writing about this. I couldn’t bring myself to post my first attempt, because even to me it sounded a little too self-congratulatory and that is the last thing I wanted to convey.

Eric, Dean and I spent a week in New Orleans volunteering with the St. Bernard Project. We were assigned to the home of Kenneth and Barbara Wiltz. Here is their story. (Dean and Eric are photographed!) It was one of the most eventful experiences we’ve had as parents and hope to do this type of thing again as soon as possible.

All I’m going to say here is, if you’ve ever wanted to do something like this. Do it. Don’t wait. Don’t make any more excuses. Just go and do it. If you want to know more about our experience, just ask. We’d love to tell you more.

What have I been up to?

Well, not sleeping apparently. No surprise there.

In my copious amounts of spare time, I’ve been doing some very fun (blue sky creative) design work for a client in the fashion industry. (Ahh, to be working on something that takes me back to my fashion roots.) We’re gearing up for all the promotional material for her upcoming runway show at the end of May. Chloe Dao, the winner of season two “Project Runway” is making a guest appearance and showing some pieces of her collection, so it’s going to be a pretty big event for little ole Anchorage, Alaska. My client is trying her heart out to raise the fashion bar here, and man does she have her work cut out for her. Aside from a handful of wanna-be divas, there’s a lot of very unfashionable people around town. The past year we’ve accomplished a total re-branding, store remodel, and several successful in-store promotions and events, but the economy has been tough. So, I’m trying to support her but stay out of all the drama and frustration.

But enough of that.

Other things I’ve done recently…

1) Learned to apply cream eye shadow (stop laughing)
2) Cleared my house of all storage clutter (my favorite thing besides, well, never mind)
3) Splurged on a Marc Jacobs wallet (shhhh, don’t tell Eric)
4) Got a puppy/playmate for Jackie named Casey (also an Italian Greyhound)
5) Successfully encouraged Grant to pull his own front tooth
6) Proudly watched Dean open his report card to reveal straight A’s
7) Discovered my potential future home
8) Got my first kiss from Allen (very slobbery)

Life is good.

And now, back to my book (the laugh-out-loud There’s a Slight Chance I Might Be Going To Hell novel I got from Eric for Valentine’s) and hope it won’t keep me up the rest of the night.

To anyone reading this, hope all is well.

Who needs chocolate.

A couple days ago I asked Dean what kind of cake he wanted me to make for his birthday and without hesitation he replied, “I want vanilla cupcakes with vanilla frosting.” So, this morning I’m making Billy’s vanilla, vanilla cupcakes (recipe can be found at marthastewart.com).

Make no mistake, I love chocolate, but I have to admit I’ve always been a fan of vanilla, so I understand Dean completely. The recipe is unusual in that you add the butter in 1-inch cubes just before the wet ingredients like you would if you were making pastry. As I was putting the batter into the tins I was wondering if I might need to mix the batter a little more.

No, it’s perfect. I just ate one, so I know. And should you get it into your head to make these cupcakes, resist the urge to make the chocolate buttercream icing version. The vanilla is so fantastic. Besides, Valentine’s is right around the corner, you’ll get plenty of chocolate then, right?

Dean turns 13 today… Gulp.

Journal therapy.

I need a bit of journal therapy. I feel like I’ve been burning the candle at both ends. No, I HAVE been burning it at both ends. Saturday I decided to get back to some basics that I’ve been neglecting and I started cooking again. I’m a good cook, darnitall. So what if I’m exhausted and it takes until 8:00 to eat, at least I feel like a human being doing something I love that happens to be good for myself and my family. I’ve finished a record number of Web sites in the past few months (all counted, four) and am knee deep in several others.

Speaking of finished projects… I can’t believe this, but I was told that one of the projects I listed in my meager online portfolio had to be removed because a certain client wasn’t to be mentioned by name. Like I buy that for a minute. Never mind that no one touched it but me. But, whatever. I’m sure the people making the request have their reasons, which will include using it when it suits their purpose. (Links respectfully removed.)

I know, that was a low blow. Maybe I wouldn’t care so much if they didn’t still owe me a check that’s now 90 days overdue.

Dean’s taking karate and loving it. They’ve got them in a leadership training program for those select students… select parent who agree to pay an extra $45 a month. Man, I’ve got to chill out. So much for journal therapy.

I heard from a great friend by postcard from l’Alpe d’Huez and by e-mail in the same day. I hope some of that factors into my dreams tonight. That should help cheer me up. France… Lance…

Something that rhymes with Venus.

No use keeping it secret any longer. The love affair with my new car officially began one week ago, today.

Amazingly enough, it’s Halloween night and 80 degrees outside. Even Grant declared “Man, I’m sweating!” as we turned up our street on the way home from trick-or-treating. We went two whole blocks and turned around. Apparently, at that temperature, half a little bag of candy was enough for both of them.

A little humor, thanks to our old friends Doug and Cindy Swank.

Top 10 Polite Ways To Say Your Zipper Is Down:
10. The cucumber has left the salad.
9. Quasimodo needs to go back in the tower and tend to his bells.
8. You need to bring your tray table to the upright and locked position.
7. Paging Mr. Johnson. Paging Mr. Johnson.
6. Elvis has left the building.
5. The Buick is not all the way in the garage.
4. Our next guest is someone who needs no introduction.
3. You’ve got a security breach at Los Pantalones.
2. Men may be from Mars, but I can see something that rhymes with Venus.
And the #1 way to tell someone his zipper is unzipped…
1. You’ve got your fly set for “Monica” instead of “Hillary.”