Archive for March, 2011


Today, my friends, at Adventures from Grandma’s Attic, I am gonna show you how to make a homemade card.

We’re doing this because

  1. It’s my blog.
  2. What I say goes
  3. I had to make a card for work
  4. I didn’t know what else to blog about, so I took the opportunity while I had it

So, the Powers That Be at my place of employment decided that tomorrow, Friday, April 1, should be a Support Our Troops kind of day. Community day for the Armed Forces, the memo said. And, since I tend to:

a.)    be the co-chair of goodwill and all things creative and artsy (despite my lack of actual talent) OR

b.)    the ambassador of coloring during work hours/for actual work purposes

the honor of creating the actual card to send out to the troops was bestowed upon me.

Not that I’m complaining.

So, without further ado, here we go….!

First, this is all the stuff I used:

I want to note that I made all of my cut outs by using my Cricut.  I didn’t include a picture of me using my cricut because it’s a huge ordeal, and because I did all of my cutting last night and didn’t think to take pictures. Basically, I love my cricut and it really improved the quality of my scrapbooking pages (and has come in handy for other craft projects). I can’t imagine going back to the days of not being able to use one.  It’s an amazing tool.

Next, I loaded up my letters and stuck them in my sticker maker.  I have the 2.5 inch sticker maker by XYRON. The 5 inch and the 1.5 inch sticker makers are really nice, too, though and would work just as well. I load all of my letters on at one time to save time and not waste any adhesive.

This is what the front of the card looked like after I put all my letter stickers on.  It still looked a little sparse, so I did this next:

I gathered my star and firework cutouts.

I loaded them into the sticker maker.

This is what spits out after they’ve become stickers.

After I placed my star cut-outs on the front of the card, this is what happened:

Look how cute that is!!

Note: I kind of stole this from the internet.  I was trying to think of something cute and nice to put on said card, so I googled something like “support our troops homemade card ideas” and found something similar to this. This is the link to the website I found, and it had a lot of cute cards.

It was time to work on the inside once the front was complete.

I used my roll-on adhesive to line one side of my cut-out.  This red border was going to outline my text.

I stuck it down in the middle of the card.

If I wanted to get really fancy, I could have cut out more letters or found some fancy font to copy but I just used my own handwriting to write the message on the inside.  I thought it looked a little jank without a little pizzazz, so I added my leftover stars to spruce it up a bit.

Then I called it good.

The girls at work and I will sign it tomorrow and send it off to bring a little cheer to our troops, wherever they may be.

🙂

Advertisements

I am 36 minutes into the film Tangled.

I’ve been giggling like an idiot.

Tangled came out on DVD (and Blu-Ray- if you’re into that. We have one but I tend to forget about it….) today and you better believe I bought it.  I went straight to Target today (after I took a two hour nap, put gas in my car and remembered it was Tuesday) and purchased it. It was the only thing I bought. And let’s get real: there are at least 42 things at Target that I can easily convince myself into thinking I need on any given trip. Like, how one time I dropped 82 dollhairs and I couldn’t even explain what I bought without looking at my loot. But, alas, I practiced some self control.

It doesn’t even matter that I’m 23 years old and still have a deep, deep love for Disney movies.  Don’t hate. You know you have the same love that I do.

Speaking of Disney movies, I found something on the internet the other day that I simply MUST share with you.  It’s one of the most amazing things I’ve ever seen.

Oh wait, that wasn’t the Disney thing I wanted to show you but it is worth sharing anyway.  I watch that video of those precious, little red pandas, like, every day and just giggle my face off. The music… it’s perfect. Good lord, I can’t get enough.

Okay, guys, here’s the Disney thing I wanted to show you.

It’s been floating around the internet for a while but I stumbled upon it the other day and immediately put that shit on facebook.

My love of Disney may make me seriously consider skipping the season finale of Teen Mom 2 tonight. And by seriously consider I mean I will skip the finale and finish watching Tangled in one sitting. Because, damn it, I’ve waited since Christmastime for this movie to be on DVD so I could see it again. And because I love Mandy Moore. And because I really don’t want to get up off the couch to get the remote to flip over to TV and turn on MTV.

What? My legs hurt.  I got my Fergie on today (“…workin’ on my fitness”).

Also, next time I’m drunk enough to humiliate myself and a) not care and/or b) not remember, I’m gonna use this: Somebody get me a glass ‘cause just found me a tall drink of water!

This weekend I realized, even more than ever, I am truly my mother’s daughter.

In fact, I came to the conclusion that she and I should probably hang out less.

Drew came home this weekend for the first time in about three months and he was appalled at my behavior.

We went out to dinner last night as a family. This restaurant is one of those restaurants that has hibachi style Japanese food (yum!) and it was really loud.  Drew sat between Mom and I and we were in a situation where neither of us could hear what the other was saying.

More than once, Drew stopped and looked at us, exasperated and incredulous.  He could not believe his eyes or his ears.  Not only did both Mom and I interrupt each other, but we were usually asking the same questions or making the same observations.  At the same time, or just seconds apart.

This is deeply upsetting because Drew and I make fun of Mom all the time.  She only tends to half-listen so she ends up saying “huh?!” and “what?!” a lot during conversations.  It also doesn’t help that Drew and I have our own special, weird sibling language. You know, the kind of language where you don’t speak in complete thoughts or even real words.  Really, we can have an entire conversation in movie lines and weird faces. That might sound a little shallow, but in actuality, our conversations aren’t always all surface-y, even though we are using other peoples’ words.

I love that about us.

Mom, however, does not love that.

She tends to get lost a lot.

But then she throws out gems like this:

What? Elvis is walking in a train station?

She said that in response to something I had said to her over the phone one time.

Or she just makes her own conversation and hopes it catches on. It usually only catches on because I think what she said is so ridiculous and random that I immediately latch on and tease her relentlessly.

For example, Drew shared this gem with me last night. She apparently said this:

His cart pulled up and I immediately turned to the kids and said, “Look at that giant wheel of butter!”

I’m fairly certain she said that to the woman she was talking to at our hibachi table (whom she had just met- and then proceeded to advise her 16 year old son about which engineering programs to pursue at various schools known for engineering.)

Oh, the other thing that’s hilarious about my mom? If she’s not talking about work, Drew, or me, she’s talking about Chief.  And with a face like this, why wouldn’t you?

he is SO presh!

My family is awesome.

I really, really love this.

It cracks me up every time I see it.

Also, today has been insanely busy and productive.  (Included in the long list of things that were actually productive, I tweeted to Justin Bieber today. I know you’re curious about what I tweeted to him, so I’ll tell you.)

Bahahahahaha Yup. I corrected his spelling. lol Gawd, I crack myself up!

All I want to do now, after what a day I have had, is crawl in bed and watch The Office on DVD. I can’t care about anything else today. Including this. And by “this” i mean writing this post.

So, even though I know you stopped by for your daily dose of awesome, I’m going to pretend it’s not Thursday and not feel guilty for all of the fail that is living here in this post.

KayThanksLoveYouSeeYaSunday

Also, who the fuck would ever get with Mike “The Situation” I-don’t-know-his-last-name??? Ew. No thank you.

Well. I’ve been sitting here for 51 minutes trying to think of something to say.

I finally came up with this:

This picture is pretty much an excellent way to sum up a night that Megan and I will never forget, and a night that Rob will never remember. Because he was blackout drunk and crawled through East Lansing trying to get home after we decided it was totally fine for him to leave by himself while we hung out with the complete strangers we found.

And by found, I mean that I flagged down some random Escalade, jumped inside and told Rob and Megan it was totally fine and to get the fuck in the car, and GO GO GO!!

Yeah. Really safe.

A complete blur. And shady as fuck.

We had been drunk for a while and looking for something to do in East Lansing after the MSU vs OSU game. (Can I just tell you how much I love game day?! SO MUCH!)  We were hanging out near Harpers when we decided that we should go to my friend’s apartment because she was having people over. We would hang out for a little bit and go to the bars later, because oh, yeah, it was still light out and too early to be as drunk as we were.

The only thing was that we needed a way to get to my friend’s apartment, which was hella far away.  Instead of calling a cab or even trying to call a friend who could drive, I just decided to flag some vehicle down. Like I’m in NYC or something, trying to hail a taxi. Who am I?

So, yeah, I flag down this white Escalade, which is filled with three or four (I can’t remember) guys.  They stopped and, for some reason, let me hop in.  For some reason, Rob and Megan followed after me and away we went to my friend’s apartment.

Talk about poor life choice. And awkward city.

Shenanigans.

Anyway, I can’t remember what happened, like the exact events of the evening. I do remember Rob, Megan and I going into my friend’s bathroom and all three of us peeing in there. At the same time. Not okay.

I also remember one of the boys changing his pants in a parking lot.

And I remember drunk-dialing my dad.

We also went to one of the bars in East Lansing for a while and danced our faces off. That was when we let Rob walk himself home despite the fact that he couldn’t see.

There’s also a memory of Megan peeing outside, in public. Twice.

We also walked all the way back to my apartment and kept Erica up until, like, 7am.  I made two of the boys watch High School Musical because I didn’t want to have sex with either of them.

The best part was that after all of the shenanigans and staying up until 8am with a strange man I had met just by jumping in his vehicle, I had to go to a staff meeting at work.  I showed up, all disheveled and loopy from a lack of sleep and super hungover.

Megan and I always reminisce on the shitshow that night turned out to be.  Generally, I just consider myself on the up and up as long as I’m not hopping in vehicles filled with strange men I don’t know.  And when I’m not pounding 100 proof shots of Captain Morgan.

We also try to embrace the whole no man left behind mentality.

Unless it’s Seneca- we usually let her go wherever she wants.

Or Leah- but that was one time, and had I been aware enough to be a part of the decision, I never would have let her wander East Lansing by herself during St. Patrick’s Day weekend. That was not my fault. And things worked out… kinda. She found her way home eventually.

Dude.

I’m supremely hungover.

I slept until 4 pm today.

Actually, that is kind of a lie.

What really happened was I woke up at 8:30 this morning to pee.  I am fairly certain I was still drunk at this point, as I could not figure out how to execute the tasks of finding the light switch and turning on the bathroom light.  In all fairness, I was in a hotel (so my surroundings were less than familiar) and the light switches were on the wall outside of the bathroom.  I washed my hands in the bathtub (because I thought the sink was still full of ice and all of our liquor- it wasn’t.) and that’s when I found Seneca’s red thong hanging out on the ledge of the bathtub.

I remember thinking that was a little odd.

I crawled back into bed next to Seneca and went back to sleep until about 10 o’clock, when I heard Megan walking around our hotel room and starting to clean stuff up.  It was probably an hour later that we all actually woke up and pulled ourselves together enough to get in the car and go home.

When the girls dropped me off at home, I dropped my crap on my bed, grabbed a sweatshirt and headed back upstairs to plop myself down on the couch, where I had every intention of staying all day long.  I was too hungover to get up and grab a blanket so I used my hooded sweatshirt as a blanket and used a pillow on the couch to cover my feet.  I wished more than anything that I could just use the power of my mind to turn on the fireplace, but that didn’t really work out.  Instead, I watched The Office on DVD and froze my ass off.

I woke up around 2pm when I heard Grandma arrive.  I was drifting in and out of consciousness so I really have no idea what she was talking about, but it was too loud for my taste so I quickly turned the DVD player off, switched the tv to the channel that was playing some basketball, and went to crawl into my mom’s bed.

At about 3pm, I woke again.  Grandma had started vacuuming. I tell you, the woman cannot just sit and do nothing.  Even though my mom constantly tells Grandma not to use our vacuum (because she breaks them????), Grandma doesn’t listen and insists on vacuuming our house. I wanted to knife her, but not that badly because I didn’t expend any energy at all to ask her to stop.

It was about 4pm when I started feeling like I needed to stop procrastinating and do my homework. Only, it felt like death to not be horizontal.

I started my homework at about 7pm, and that shows.  I’m only slightly embarrassed to hand in my case study and I won’t be that mad when I don’t get 100%. I won’t be that mad because last night was fun enough to be worth less than 100% on the piece of shit case study I handed in this evening.

I am, however, a little disappointed in myself because, dude, I cannot drink like I used to.  Not like I could in college.  Growing up sucks.

There is no other day that I wish more than anything that I was still in college than on St. Patrick’s Day.

I mean, most days I wish I was still in college, and I think it’s retarded that we were all dying to graduate when we were already in the part of our lives that truly is the best part. Even more retarded is that I didn’t drag out my time in college longer than the four years I was already there.

I mean, where else is it completely acceptable to literally drink all day?  I don’t just mean day drinking, tailgate style.  I mean waking up and pounding a jello shot or two and head to work only to get out at noon and immediately start drinking to catch up to where everyone else is.

A household divided: pepsi vs coke. What’s your pref??

One very important concept I learned in college is playing catch-up. Don’t do it.  Poor. Life. Choice.

Luckily, I had really good friends who reminded me to slow the fuck down and pace myself. A good friend and roommate who looked out for me and made me pb&j sandwiches (on more occasions than one) so I would have consumed something other than caffeine and alcohol when we started drinking.

Lunch of champions/functioning alcoholics!

It’s not appropriate for me to spend the entire day wasted, take a nap at 6pm and wake up an hour later to continue consuming more alcohol than is recommended by the government.  It’s not appropriate to continually lose misplace my ID and debit card only to find it in a different pair of jeans because I had forgotten I had changed pants at the last minute (I would). It’s not appropriate to drunkenly sext frat boys. Nor is it appropriate to try to steal some poor man’s golden retriever (Erica! Okay, it was mostly me.).

Oh, Mandy…!

It’s not appropriate to disappear for extended periods of time with said frat boy under the guise of “washing my hands.” It didn’t matter that Erica knew I wasn’t washing my hands.  No one washes their hands that often, or for more than 20 seconds. Or for, like, 40 minutes at a time.

Whatever.  I never said I was a good liar.

None of that is appropriate.  Anymore.

Because I’m not in college. Anymore.

Because I’m old.

I hope everyone had a safe and very happy St. Patrick’s Day!

I spent mine lunching with a member of the tripod, shopping for new makeup, hitting up the library, doing homework and now I’m going to a Sugarland Concert!

Not too shabby! 🙂

I haven’t missed a day of blogging since I started this here blog.

Sure, there have been days that I haven’t felt like it. And days when you can tell I was only posting because I had to, because it was my own personal commitment.  And days when I put forth as little effort as possible for various reasons such as I’m lazy or I had procrastinated too much and had too much homework to put forth the effort and time to write a quality post.  And days when I half-ass it just cause I can (do we recall those Sunday lists from a while back?)

But there have been those rare days when I actually say something funny. Or tell you a story of how I’m dumb.

I guess my point is, I feel like most of the time I don’t suck and I do try to post something worth reading.

Today, friends, is just not one of those days.

I’m in a funk and I can’t even talk about it.  I’m stressed the fuck out and completely consumed by this anxiety.

I’m trying not to be an alarmist, but I’m freaking out.

 

Also, I really miss Gilmore Girls. That show never should have ended the way it did. Fuck you, CW. Thanks for ruining my life.

Oh, and fuck you, too, FOX, for canceling the OC.

Life ruiners.

I wrote a ten page paper today.

And by today I mean I did it all after 4pm.

I’m not even going to get into any discussion of daylight savings time because we all know I’ll only end up confused, upset and bewildered.

I only mention it now because it pertains to my day in the sense that when I woke up this morning, it was an hour later than it would have been had it been as things were just yesterday.  I hate that we lost an hour. It meant that when I awoke at 9:06 this morning, as my clock alerted me, it was 10:06 in actuality. It meant that I had wasted that hour without the perks of gaining an actual hour of sleep or spending that time on the couch watching two episodes of Say Yes to the Dress.

And let me tell you, I did spend time on the couch this morning watching Say Yes to the Dress! However, this was done as I sulked silently about “losing an hour.”

I spent the rest of my morning sitting in my own filth and baby-talking to the dog.  He eventually grew tired of this and decided to go sleep with his butt against the wall, as he usually does.

Evidenced here:

What's this about??

And here:

he's so weird

After I tired of watching Say Yes to the Dress, I decided I would finish season one of The Sopranos.

I feel so badass when I watch that show.  Mob life fascinates me. Actually, violence and crime in general tend to fascinate me. I live such a sheltered life that I pretty much just read about it on Wikipedia or live vicariously through TV shows and movies.

It was just before 2 o’clock when I decided to shower.  Once I was clean, I definitely felt more awake but I still lacked the motivation required to write my stupid case study for class.  So, instead, I watched an entire disk of season six of Entourage (each disk contains four episodes, which are, like, thirty minutes in length).

Yeah. I’m that lazy.

It was after I had wasted almost an entire day that I decided I would begin the research I needed to do in order to write my case study. I hate that part, actually, because it takes such a long time. And it requires so much reading until you find a source that you can manipulate enough to support your point.  If I’m being honest, I started out with the intent of only using the bare minimum of three external sources besides our textbook. But the 95% I got on last week’s case study really got my goat, and I knew I really needed to exceed the minimum requirements.

Yeah. I’m that much of a perfectionist.

95% irritated me.

Who am I?

Anyway, my point is, I wrote a ten page research paper inside of five hours.  I also feel pretty good about this week’s case study.

Basically, like Charlie Sheen, I’m gonna put this day in the Win column.

The Vagina Monologues, a Review: I wept.

I thought back on the days when I was a raging feminist. Those days are filled with fond memories of being offended by Chrysler commercials* promoting some van with stow-n-go seating. Memories of bitter diatribes about how men ruin everything and how Sarah Palin is a poor excuse for a woman and embarrassment. Memories of Drew telling me to go set fire to my bra or telling me I was a raging, militant feminist, a truth I was in no way ashamed of.

Those days are no more.  Unfortunately.

Actually, it’s not so much that I’m no longer a feminist. It’s not even that I have decided I don’t give a fuck about equal rights or the promotion of equality for all.  Quite the contrary. I’m still all about it. It’s just that I’m not as hardcore about it, I guess.

I used to read a lot and think critically and have thoughts and be informed and have a voice that I wanted to share.

*I’m no longer upset about Chrysler because I pretty much live under a rock and don’t read the news or watch tv. I’m like never exposed to new things because the only TV I do watch is shit like Vampire Diaries and Jersey Shore. And the only news I read is Perez Hilton. So…. Yeah. And I guess Tim Allen does the voiceovers for Chrysler, which I do enjoy.

Anyway, I went to a performance of The Vagina Monologues that was put on by my school. I can’t even imagine seeing this show put on by …actual people who do these shows for real.  I was overwhelmed from the get-go.  The very first monologue had me shivering and knowing I’d end up in tears at some point.

Some of them were sad. Some were funny. Some used a lot of dirty words. Some made you laugh. And some made you cry.  But what was really wonderful is that it’s a bunch of women saying the things that most people just never say.

I enjoyed the Vagina Workshop, My Angry Vagina and My Vagina Was my Village. I think those were what they were called.  Obviously, I enjoyed the other monologues but those three were my favorite. I think. Oh, I don’t know, because The Flood was really good too.

All I can really say is this: it’s amazing. I think it’s worth experiencing once in your life. If you can find a local performance, do it. If nothing else, it’s an experience.  (Or, at the very least, read a fucking book and educate yourself on your goddamn vagina.)