Guest Post - Newlywed Advice

My pets, the kind Muffy Martini asked me to pen a guest post while she's off doing some little thing like getting married. Given that I've been in the nuptial way for nearly *THREE* entire years myself & am therefore an expert Smug Married, of course I eagerly offered my crackpot services.

Please go check out my blatherings expert advice here, and wish Ms. Martini a happy marriage & honeymoon while you're at it. As in, right now. Smootches . . .

Pretty and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Blog

Darlings! It feels like centuries since we've last chit-chatted here. Rather than bore you with the various reasons for my absence - suffice it to say, I'm absolutely fine but aflutter with a full travel & social calendar for the month - I will merely apologize & warn you that it is only likely to continue for the next bit . . .

. . . or at least until my writing inspiration returns from its extended hiatus; I like to think of it as being off on an extended Lady Lunch at Neiman Marcus - can't blame a girl for losing her priorities in the face of monkey bread - but that wench had best return soon, and with a Pretty handbag as a peace offering too. In the meantime, I'll continue to enjoy your excellent blogging as I'm able to catch up with my Reader.

I'll be updating this weekend with a link to a guest post, so please watch this space . . .

Featured Blogger Friday: ". . . For a Different Kind of Girl"

There are some blogs I read for the pretty things they feature and those that I like simply because they're funny or charming. And then there are those few that knock me sideways with the consistent perfection of the writing, which somehow manages to be hilarious, insightful, clever, and just the right amount of sentimental. Today's Feature Friday blogger, ". . . For a Different Kind of Girl" (aka, FADKOG), falls into that latter category for me.

And so, like the ridiculous fangirl I am, I begged FADKOG, a wife, mom, bookseller, and all-around cool chick living in the Great Midwest, for an interview. She is difficult to pigeonhole as a blogger (a compliment, to my mind) - as she notes below, she's not exactly a mommy blogger, but her tales about her family and her work life are just too funny and dear for you to be missing out on one second longer. Even when she ostensibly is writing about nothing, like with "Seinfeld", her nothing is infinitely better than everyone else's.

Plus, she knows her REAL "Beverly Hills 90210" (ahem) and John Hughes movies like no other, so she's de facto awesome in my book.

Without further fangirl blathering, here is FADKOG . . .

Why she started blogging: I started blogging in September 2006. Before I started writing my own blog, I traveled the world via other writers and their blogs, discovering just how freeing people find the Internet to be as a place to share their joys or their burdens with others who, I also discovered, were more often than not, willing to celebrate with them or offer their support by whatever means possible despite likely never having met the person who'd written the initial words. I had a small list of favorite blogs I liked to routinely visit, but because I had no blog of my own at the time, I never left comments. It seems strange to say this now, but I didn't feel like it was my place to impose somewhere if I didn't have a place to call my own as proof that I could then share with them.

Anyway, among that small list of favorite blogs was one in particular written by a gentleman who, unfortunately, no longer is blogging, but who had a talent for crafting words, and I would often visit his site many times a day to see if he'd updated or to re-read something he'd previously written. I had no clue about blogging or site tracking capabilities, so I didn't know he'd know I was there as often as I was, until one day I visited his blog and found an entry titled with the name of my town and a very short, very nice post asking me to reveal myself. I was stunned, a bit delighted, and from then, totally pulled! I left a comment, some gushing little fan letter of a comment, and we were soon bantering back and forth on his blog that way. It didn't take long for my new friend to ask if I had my own blog. I think it was his polite way of telling me I was giving him far too many words and that I should lessen the burden on him by sharing them with others!

One day, he essentially dropped the gauntlet on me and challenged me to start a blog that very day. I remember him telling me that I should have a post up and ready for him to read later that same afternoon. I panicked! I then wrote a very lengthy response detailing how that was impossible because I had nothing to say (tip - never be incredibly wordy when trying to tell someone you have nothing to say!). Then I caved, opened up Blogger, created an account, and started typing. Thirty minutes later, I'd posted my very first blog entry. I thought I'd be a 'one and done' blogger, able to tell my friend, "Look! See! I did it!" and then delete it, but I was already starting to feel like there was more I wanted to write.



Her Writing Background: Before I started blogging, I hadn't written anything longer than a grocery list in four years. I'm not sure if seven years of every week coming up with 10 news stories, features articles, columns, and editorials for a community newspaper burned me out completely, or I simply didn't feel like I had anything of interest to say anymore, but I just never felt the pull to write during that lull.

I have friends who are incredible writers and who make the art of telling a story seem effortless. However, I have a tendency to be my own worst enemy when it comes to trying my hand at creative writing. Some of my blog posts that have remained my favorites have been written when I was able to just sit down with my laptop, turn off my inner critic, and just spill. (Pretty Note: So her best blogging seems like every single one of her posts to me. Truly. Amazing to see that those I consider the best at this still struggle with this too.)

I wish I was always able to write that way, and in this last month, I've really been attempting to do so by branching out and trying my hand at writing fiction. A group of fellow blog authors whose writing I enjoy started a blog called Polite Fictions, then invited a small group of their favorite writers to participate. I was terrified - and secretly delighted - when I opened my email one afternoon to discover I was included in the group asked to participate. The point of Polite Fictions, other than putting me into fits of complete panic when it's my turn to contribute, thus forcing one of the fantastic leaders of the group to talk me down from the ledge through a series of angst-ridden emails I send him, is for the various authors to develop a narrative through four paragraph entries.

The site's been active for a month now, and we're developing an intriguing tale we'd love for people to read. Every new entry is like a grown up version of a Choose Your Own Adventure book (Pretty Note: LOVE those books, yes, even to this day) and as a writer, it's been fun to pick up a nugget of the story from a previous entry and create a new twist for the protagonists, and then come back a couple days later to discover where the next author has taken us. I still don't feel like I belong among the group, and I still sweat out the details too much, but I love that participating in Polite Fictions MAKES me try my hand at something I'm not necessarily comfortable with.

Her Blogging Inspiration: I've been inspired to write posts by what's going on around me, little snippets of conversation I pick up, the trash and treasures my husband has come home with, and even the way my children look at me. My pockets are often filled with little post-it notes with words I've scribbled on them with ideas I'd like to write about.

I'd like to say I'm forever inspired by greatness, but then I'd be left unable to explain why I wrote a post one day after opening my pantry and discovering five bottles of Thousand Island salad dressing inside and writing a short post about my addiction to it and having that be the post that, at the time, garnered me the most comments I'd ever had! (Pretty Note: Here's the thing - you won't believe how well she writes about the Thousand Island dressing.)

About Tool Man, Her Dreamy-Sounding Husband, and Newlywed Advice: Oh, my Tool Man IS fairly dreamy! In a few weeks, we'll have been married for 15 years, and though it may sound cliche, I can honestly say that it seems unfathomable to me that I've been next to this man for that long!

I've said this before on my own blog, but I'll say it here, too. Every night, we fall asleep holding hands. Every night. This despite the way he can be snoring within seconds of his head hitting the pillow and how I like to stay up late with the bedside lamp burning in his face so I can read whatever book it is I'm enjoying that I know I'll never be able to discus with him because he's not a reader. We don't wake up in the morning still clasping hands, but that one little gesture has been the way we connect with each other, acknowledge forgiveness when we've had to, and remember why we're here in the first place, so my marriage tip for newlywed readers is to find that gesture that lets your spouse know you're in this for the duration. It doesn't have to be holding hands while you drift off to sleep. It can be a note or a telephone call, but just something that reminds you - and them - why you wanted to spend your life with them.

The Inspiration Behind Her Blog Title: When I was challenged to start my own blog, I had no idea what to call it. I think I stewed over a name longer than I did my first posts!

I have been a longtime fan of INXS. KICK was essentially the soundtrack of my senior year of college, and I would have sold my soul to worship at the feet of Michael Hutchence. (Pretty Note: I'm legitimately sorry for you Gen Ys & younger, because you didn't know the magnificence that was Michael Hutchence in the INXS heyday, may he rest in peace) There was a time when I swore I'd never marry a man who wouldn't allow me to have Never Tear Us Apart played during the ceremony. When I started writing, I didn't know where I was going to fit in, or even what I was going to write about after my initial post. That made me think of the INXS song To Look At You. The lyric reads "What is the name to call for a different kind of girl who knows the feelings, but never the words." I've always loved that line for so many reasons, and when I recalled that, it seemed like the perfect blog title for me.

I should note that my Tool Man had never heard of INXS before he met me, and while I'm sure he'd have let me have Never Tear Us Apart played during the ceremony, we instead opted to have my dear college friend butcher a version of "Have I Told You Lately?" in a feeble attempt to copy Rod Stewart's unplugged rendition of it. I'm still haunted by the memory! Perhaps the reason Tool Man still holds my hand every night as he drifts off to sleep is to calm me from the nightmares!


About Her Two Sons: I love my children with a capacity I never thought possible. I think every mother can probably say that. I don't think I have the market cornered on that sentiment, but I always am amazed when sometimes just watching them while they do their homework or play with their friends (or, better yet, play together) can make me teary-eyed. I've taken a lot of things for granted, but I'll never take being their mother for granted. My oldest son is 12, and is compassionate and honest and wants to be sure that everyone is having a good time. He's an incredible athlete, which is shocking since he's the child of two bench warmers, and watching him come alive and take charge on a basketball court is awesome. I have been that mom who is still standing and cheering while everyone else has sat down, but every time my son does something he's proud of while playing, he'll look up in the bleachers for his Dad and me and point to us, and when he does, it's like my heart grows far bigger than is possibly safe!

My youngest son is 7, and is charming and delightful and a natural born comedian. He chooses a new name to answer to on a weekly basis, reads to me in an English accent, and can whip out his math homework like it's a complete no-brainer, which, again, is pretty amazing considering his mother is a completely without any math knowledge. He'll be my accountant by fourth grade, I'm sure. Even though he's close to outgrowing this, there are many nights he'll come find me and sit down as close as he possibly can, then rest his head on my arm. I've kept him up past his bedtime some evenings just to bask in that time with him. I love running errands with just him because he'll sit in the back and chatter away about anything under the son and ply me with fascinating facts or lame jokes, and because he's so fond of speaking in that English accent I mentioned, it makes the time doing something mundane seem like a cultural affair! Plus, I know more about spiders than I ever thought I'd want to know!

Those are my favorite things. It's hard to think of a challenging thing about motherhood because I've been given two incredibly laid back kids. They make this job easy, and I knock on wood just typing that! I think the most challenging thing may be the nights when Tool Man is out of town for work and the single parent mode shifts in. My kids are self-sufficient so that helps, but it's running one of them here and the other one there, making dinner while keeping homework help straight, fielding phone call after phone call from girls wanting to talk to both of them (WHA?!), and doing everything else that needs to take place around the house at the same time that makes parenting a challenge. I only do it about three nights a week, so I know I'm lucky, but I've never quite gotten the perfect handle on this routine.

The Books We Should Be Reading (Pretty Note: FADKOG & I both love reading and have worked in/ served time in bookstores): I recently finished The Death of Bunny Munro by Nick Cave (Pretty Note: Yes, that Nick Cave, the excellent musician) and, while it's by no means a feel good story, it is a very beautiful, very lyrically written story of a man so wrapped up in his own various addictions that he's unable to see how much the son he must now care for in light of his wife's death loves him even as he believes he's teaching him the way of the world.

My favorite book of all time is Cormac McCarthy's The Road, another 'feel good' story about a father and son! This time it's a father and son who journey a post-apocalyptic America, but unlike during the journey Bunny Munro takes with his son, Bunny Jr., in the previously mentioned book, you know the plight of the unnamed father and son in The Road is fueled by mutual hope and love and sacrifice. I loved this book from the moment I started reading it and still can't stop thinking about it years after reading it. Reading it made me want to dive into other Cormac McCarthy books, and I've quite enjoyed many of them, including No Country For Old Men and Blood Meridian. McCarthy's writing style isn't for everyone, but it's worth a try to bask in how he crafts a story.

What She Wants a New Reader to Know Before Clicking Over to Her Blog: That I'm glad they've stopped by, and that I hope after reading a post or two, they'll come back and hopefully leave a comment so I know they were there! I love hearing other people's take on something I've written. Also, it's not a controversial blog. There are others who can take up a cause so much better than I can. It's also not a straight up 'mommy blog,' either. It's kind of a "whatever struck me that day so I wrote about it" blog. They should also know that I occasionally like to drop the Jonas Brothers or 90210 (mostly old school BH Niner, even though, heaven help me, I am STILL watching the new series) into my posts because I have something of an unholy love for both, and that I can be wordy (which may no longer be a secret based on the length of the responses I gave here!). Mostly, I would like them to know what I originally said - I'm glad they visited, I hope they enjoyed their time there enough to hopefully come back, and I hope to see them again. And that, yes, I actucally DID write a post about my addiction to Thousand Island salad dressing!

***

FADKOG, thank you for indulging my fangirl-ism and playing along today. Readers, for the two of you who aren't already indulging in her blog, please do so immediately here. You can (read: should) also follow her Tweets here.

My Side of the Sandbox

With thanks to the brilliant and badass Coconut Diaries, who inadvertently inspired this post & thereby provided yet another example of why I should call this blog "I Pick Other People's Ideas".

***

"I just want to spend more time with couples who have kids," complained an acquaintance of mine recently - this after the (kid-free) Anonymous Husband and I had driven no short distance to spend time with her and her husband.

The thing is, I understood where she's coming from (once I recovered from the social gaffe, that is).

Once upon a playground, our friends were simply that - the people we liked, who all fell under one happy circus tent labeled "friend". We didn't categorize "the swingset friends" or the "Cabbage Patch- appreciative friends" as discrete entities, with never the twain shall meet. It could be the champagne has fizzled my memory, but looking back, I'm struck with just how much easier it was to distinguish the Good Guys (Gals) vs. the bullies, and that was the only pertinent distinction.

Of course, as we get older things get logistically sticky - if we're lucky, we figure out the stuff we like (and meet "friends I like to argue with"), pick a job accordingly ("law school friends"), and pair off ("couples friends"), but none of this figuring out comes with a translation guide to friendships that try to transcend those artificial lines. Woe unto the person (ie, me) who throws a party with all of the above friends & expects social magic to commence.

Instead, when it comes to making new friends in this post-sandbox era, I find myself inexplicably wanting to meet people who have checked the same life boxes - partnered up? check. professional? check. wants kids? check - without understanding why. Is it to somehow justify the life decisions I've made? Or is it also, as I suspect, more a matter of practicality? The moms I meet can't just meet for a last-minute happy hour, and I'm not yet interested in playdates unless they involve David Beckham and, well, no one else.*

*Love you, AH!

These invisible boundaries don't apply so much to those lifelong friends. In my set, we're all ambling around various stages of singledom or motherhood, etc., and it hasn't affected our closeness. Rather, it's with the newbies - the friend dating stage of life I'm now in - where I'm finding it a challenge, from both sides of the issues.

What does your side of the sandbox look like? Do you think this is a natural, good thing, or do you miss the earlier, simpler days?

How to Break Unpleasant News to Your Spouse

Important, Special Note: "Featured Blogger Friday" will continue next Friday with a supremely kick-arse blogger you're going to adore. No, really. This time I mean it. Pinky swear!

***

They - you know, that mysterious "they" - say you should keep a marriage spontaneous in order to keep the interest going. However, in my near 3 - yes, almost THREE years, clearly approaching varsity team status! - years of Smug Marriage, I've determined that certain things just work better with a system.

Take, for example, the business of breaking potentially controversial news to your partner*. We've explored these murky waters previously, including this misadventure, but never have we plunged our Wellies (pink, of course) into the actual muck of how to broach these indelicate subjects.** This is exactly the sort of thing where all that relationship spontaneity we're supposed to be getting up to can simply wreck the conversation.

*Or can I just say spouse? Significant other? Can anyone suggest a generic term for this that doesn't make me spiritually barf just a little and/or set the PC Police into a lather?

**And yes, by "broach indelicate subjects" I do mean "covertly convince your spouse /boyfriend /partner type to do exactly as you suggest"

Of course, I recommend that you all assess which system works best for your spousely-type person; my carefully honed unpleasant and/or controversial news delivery system is as follows:

Step 1: Meet the Anonymous Husband out for a drink;

Step 2: Order round of drinks #1;

Step 3: Order drink #2 for the AH;

Step 4: Assess level of AH chattiness and general demeanor;

Step 5: Slip in unpleasant and/or controversial news in the most calm voice I can muster;

Step 6: Quickly follow up step #5 with another drinks order.

Alas, this system is not guaranteed to have a felicitous outcome, but my extensive, highly scientific research has shown this gives a heightened chance of success. Besides, if my system doesn't work, at least you've both had a few drinks to lessen the blow. Not to toot my own horn - except if I don't, who the Hell else will? - in the immortal words of a certain Miss Elle Woods, I find this to be ". . . a completely brilliant plan".

What's your system? Or are you a fan of the spontaneous approach?

The Texifornia Dance

Darlings! Thank you for the kind travel wishes. I've missed you so.

Well, sort of. Actually, I've been busy missing home - wondering where home really is, rather. There's a bad Motley Crue song in there somewhere, but I promise not to sing it and just get on to the point without resorting to leather pants or other hair metal accoutrement.*

*Just imagine a Grace Kelly lookalike with feathered 80s hair, though - this idea has legs (Aqua Net?).

I've been gone for a total of four years, but flying back to California still reminds me of seeing a (non-cretinous) ex again - for the span of a weekend, it can be deceptively easy to only see the lovely, pretty bits. Even the biggest clod or city can show promise for 48 hours, making it less simple to recall why it was you left in the first place. You were fine until you saw one another again, but oh, the first time back . . . and it doesn't help if home is the Geor*ge Clo*oney of cities. Throw in my friends that make my hometown, well, home, and it generally equals a long flight back to Texas to reflect on why the Anonymous Husband & I decided to make Texas home.

Am I (are we) happy in Austin, where I live now? Absolutely. It's a terrific city. Could I (we) be happy back home? Absolutely. It's a terrific city.

Can you call two places home? Or is home something that, geographically and spiritually, can only be in one place?

Gone Home

(Credit: PDphoto.org)

- PRETTY HQ TEMPORARY RELOCATION ANNOUNCEMENT -

I'm flying home for some much needed girl time and for an In-n-Out cheeseburger (Animal style, for the natives reading this), not necessarily in that order. Featured Blogger Friday will return next week, my creativity & sense of humor - well, one can only hope they reappear by then.

Have a wonderful weekend, my pets!

Fall Fashion: Ruffles Redux

Please forgive me for the lack of posting, dolls, but it has taken me a few days to kick the Kimberlys in their (perfectly straight, blindingly white) teeth. Frankly, I've needed a wee break from the blogosphere as well, much as I adore you.

Happily, I've rediscovered the surefire cure to that which ails me - getting Prettier Than Everyone Else those Kimberly bitches included. Maybe I've watched one too many Merchant-Ivory movies, but as I was flipping through the latest Spring '10 Fashion Week, I was thrilled to see that amidst the studs and masculine plaids flooding the stores this fall, the floaty, romantic look is very much still in style. The ruffle, that brassy VIP of the romantic look, remains a fashion mainstay.

Consider these from the Field Marshall of Fierce, Christian Siriano (my Invisible Internet Friends Paisley Petunia also noted these here) (credit all photos: Style.com):

And one from my other BFF designer of late, Marc Jacobs:

Although my mood has rebounded, my wallet has not - not to the point of affording high fashion, that is, as that would be less of a rebound and more of a giant, er, bound. In any event, I meandered over to my go-to source for romantic splurges, Anthropologie, and discovered ruffly everyday pieces in pretty fall colors and a closer proximity to my price range (credit all photos: Anthropologie):

"Swept Away Top" - look how the fluttery bow up top draws the eye up to the face

"Sunlit Grove Coat" - aka, "Pretty's early Christmas present if the Anonymous Husband catches this hint"; just check out the sweet ruffle & pleating on the back:

!

"Blooming Phlox Tank" - like wearing a rose garden, minus the, um, dirt and bugs and stuff

"Windflower Necklace"

"Cashmere Squiggle Scarf"

What do you think, fashionistas - fluttery and fun, or do I need to step away from the Austen and Bronte for a bit?

A Case of the Kimberlys

Like I mentioned last week, the Anonymous Husband & I played host to a group of good friends this weekend. You'll be happy to hear the Pretty HQ high maintenance prize did not go to our lovely, pregnant guest, but remained with its rightful owner (ie, me). After the last of them shuffled away - our typical food-and-wine soaked weekends leave one barely ambulatory, much less walking - I was left with a niggling case of the Kimberlys.

You know the "The Kimberlys" - it can include platonic girl crushes, but goes beyond that to a woman (or man - should we have "The Toms" for you boys?) who seems to embody whatever life goals you're seeking at the moment. I wouldn't exactly call it envy - that shade of green can simply wreck a girl's complexion - but I admit there is something of a jealous element to it. You know you shouldn't, but you can't help but compare your life to hers.

My original Kimberly - cleverly named "Kimberly" - was my grade school classmate with the shiny flaxen mane, amber eyes, and effortlessly sweet disposition whom the boys enthusiastically chased around the playground. Even her penmanship was irritatingly perfect. Of course, I was too busy beheading my Barbies and devouring books and challenging the boys to debates to get too worked up about this, but oh, for just one day in her (unscuffed, ladylike) shoes. . .

Nowadays, my Kimberlys have less to do with the boy chasing, and more to do with those Life Resume Points I feel like I'm falling short on - the girls, like my visiting friend, who seem to have that mystical love / work / pretty hair / baby balance figured out, and without much apparent effort at that. I wish her every happiness, of course, but I also wish she could somehow share the secret recipe.

Am I mature enough now to realize that no one, not even the Kimberlys, are as perfect as they seem? Sure, most of the time. And yet - every once in a while, I start comparing & feeling like if I could only have one day in Kimberly's (still unscuffed, and therefore still wholly unlike mine) shoes . . .

Anyone else know about the Kimberlys? The Toms? Who has this effect on you?

Edited to Add: Queen Bee Swain makes an excellent point in the comments which, deep in the throes of Kimberlyism as I was, I forgot to include - in my advanced years now, I do try and turn my Kimberlys into positive learning opportunities. "What is it about this Kimberly that's triggering the envy thing? What can I do to incorporate that into my life?" I'll usually pause to ask now.

Plus, I've secretly figured out how to get that Kimberly flaxen mane thing, so it's all good.

Featured Blogger Friday: "The Shabby Princess"

(Pretty Note: That hair! That necklace! Trying to stay focused and type here . . .)

You know how each group of close friends has the nice one? Of course, all of my besties share fabulous qualities, but generally speaking, there's the sweet one who glues us together, the mensch, the International Woman of Mystery, and the one who brings the champagne (ahem).

Today's featured blogger, the Shabby Princess, is the sweet one of my Invisible Internet Friends, and in fact is one of the first blogs I ever read. In fact, so kind and self-effacing is she that I hit her up to do this profile, because I think all of you need to be start reading her daily goodness right this very minute.

SP, a fellow California girl gone Texan, chronicles her life in Dallas with a keen eye for personal detail. Oh, and she's funny - very funny, so much so that I forgive her that strange running habit she & a number of you seem to have. The Fates have eluded our meeting for a Sprinkles cupcake to this point, but I'm hoping I'll meet SP on my next Dallas adventure.

Without further ado, the Shabby Princess . . .

Why she started blogging & her dream of being an author: Yes, my foray into blogging is directly related to my dreams of being an author. I started blogging because I was back at work after a several month hiatus while dealing with some family drama, and during my time away I wrote every day and would e-mail my friends little updates on my book, or little other things going on in my life. Things may not be as comical as they were then (which you can read about once I finish the dang book!), but, I still wanted to find a way to write often and share my silly life stories with friends (and had no idea how many Invisible Friends I would make along the way!).

About that novel she's working on: Yes, I am still working on it—which admittedly, is taking forever. I really need to refocus on get moving on it. It’s crazy how working a full time job, training for a marathon, being a wife and friend just kind of sucks the energy to work on my book right out of me. And I realize that everyone on this planet is crazed and overworked, which is why I’m utterly amazed by actual authors.

Honestly though, I am a bit scared to complete it—I have these schoolgirl fantasies about it being successful and it’s also very personal. But! But! I will finish. And it will be fabulous (naturally), and, of course it will be made into a movie. Obviously. And yes, these are my schoolgirl fantasies.

(Pretty Note: The excerpt she posted on her site a few months back was fantastic; I'm looking forward to saying I knew SP back when, right before she became a famous author . . . )

Her blogging inspirations: I find Jennslyvania to be absolutely hilarious—I want to be her when I grow up (not kidding). I strive to have just a fraction of her wit, alas, I fall short.

[Pretty Note: SP wrote something nice about me here, but in a rare show of pseudo-modesty, I'm editing it out - thank you, SP!]

I love A Duck in Her Pond—she is fabulous writing inspiration (and a dang whirlwind, I might add!). (Pretty Note: another one of my favorites & a former FFB'er!)

I love the colors and joy that is found in Nie Nie Dialogues and love her ability to add charm and love to daily events and that even through such adversity (she and her husband were in a terrible plane crash a year ago) she maintains her love and joy—which to me, is inspiring! Plus, she always dresses so gosh darn cute.

What she misses most & least about our glorious home state: Oh, California, I miss it so much. Alright, cheap answer? In-N-Out. There is just nothing like a good In-N-Out burger and these hot, fresh fries… I’m drooling. Real honest deep and mushy answer? My family, my friends, the beach (!), and the fabulous boutiques and small restaurants that dot the state. And goodness me, lately I have really been missing seafood! My dad lived two miles from the beach (yes, I brag) and there is honestly nothing like fresh seafood. And bread bowls of chowder on a foggy beach day. Ohh, I’m getting misty eyed.

What don’t I miss? I don’t miss the weekends—we lived in a very touristy area, so the weekends were always a beating because our quaint little beach village got turned into a huge city overnight. And I don’t miss the cost. I hear sales tax has gone up to pass what it is here—9…%?! Or something like that. Yikes.

What she likes most & least about Texas: I love the people. I love the sense of community. Everyone seems to know everyone and everyone looks out for one another. I love the hot summers and the very cold winters—we got snow last year! And the shopping. Gotta love the shopping. And fireflies in the summer—honestly, that might be my greatest joy once the hot weather rolls around.

What I don’t like is how commercial it all is—well, not all, but, hi, I live in Dallas. It’s a very strange little world with the big houses and the fancy cars and the Neimans. I know this may sound weird coming from a California girl, but, honestly, in California, things are just much more relaxed and laid back—even the big houses and fancy cars! It was and still is a bit overwhelming.

More about that darling husband of hers & how they met:

(Pretty Note: Seriously, how cute are they? And can I have some of SP's always fun accessories?)

We met at work, while I was at home working during the summer after my first year of college. I had just gone through a heinous breakup and had basically sworn off all men—unless of course Johnny Depp came calling (he didn’t).

My best friend (who I worked with) knew that my now husband was also newly single and suggested we “hang out” at some point—her exact words were “I’m not saying you need to marry the guy, but, you need to get out of the house”—apparently, watching Chocolat and Under the Tuscan Sun, laying by the pool and sleeping were not exciting things in her mind (she’s wrong). Did I mention that we hated each other? I thought he was an arrogant a$* and he thought I was a sassy little brat. But, being as we were both single and apparently, not happy, we gave each other a second chance.

After a few weeks of him stopping by our office to chat with her (lies!) she got the fabulous idea to leave my phone number on his car. After hours of my screaming at her like a child (and embarrassed child, I might add) I finally let it go, figuring that if he called, great, if not, I still had Captain Jack. He called. That night. We went to dinner. We got home at 2 AM. We were engaged two months later. And had a fabulous summer wedding nine months after that. It has later come out that my best friend and his mother played a role in this whole thing—his mother encouraging him to stop by to visit my BFF, and her dropping hints while I was out of the office. Those sneaky match makers….

Where she wants to be in five years, personally & professionally: Gosh, five years—for a millisecond that seems so far off, but, it’s not really! Yikes! OK: dream scenario: on a book tour with several little ones in tow, splitting my time between a fabulous beach house and a mountain retreat, complete with huskies (oh there’s my love of all things four legged) and a dog sled…. But, um, reality check, please?

In five years I hope to be a good place with “me”—hopefully with several marathons under my belt (at least two since that’s how many I plan on running in the next seven months) and a kiddo or two under my arm. Professionally, I hope to at least have some manuscripts in the works (but honestly, one published book would be amazing). In terms of blogging, I hope I still have wonderful readers and that I will have been able to meet many other bloggers—I’ve been blessed to make so many fabulous online friends and many have become real life friends—it’s so fun! I hope that I can still make people laugh—and that I still have things to laugh at (although I don’t see that changing anytime soon—I managed to walk into the doorframe of my bosses office five minutes ago—seriously, how am I alive?)!

Geographically? Gosh! I looove Texas and I always knew I’d live in the South—my heart has always been set on Georgia, but, the husband wouldn’t go for it. We debate packing up and moving to Colorado (we both adore it), or living by a lake in the Hill Country (doesn’t everyone?). But, time will tell. I’m a pretty big fan of our current home, and have visions of being forcefully dragged out of there if we ever had to move. Man, I’m pretty demanding five years out, aren’t I?

What she wants a new reader to know before clicking over to her blog: Ohmygosh, please know that I don’t take myself too seriously. I spout about royalty (mainly because I was pretty much born in the wrong country at the wrong time—and I will prove that my backwoods Kentucky bootleggin’ ancestors had royal roots, I will!), and being a ‘princess in training’, but really, I’m a simple hippy dippy trippy (as Stacey London would say) beach bum at heart.

I want to make people laugh—even at my expense. I rarely get into overly deep political type topics, not because I don’t care, but, because, I want people to come to my blog and get a giggle—there are plenty of other academic blogs out there—mine just isn’t one of them. And I don’t try to be—that’s not what you’ll find at The Shabby Princess. If you like shoes, chocolate, men with accents, a good shopping trip (at Target or otherwise) and good TV, we’ll get along just fine!

(Pretty Note: It's like I wrote this myself - see why she's one of my favorite Invisible Internet Friends?)

Thank you so much, SP!

Readers, you've heard the Princess' orders - please speed over to her blog immediately here and follow her Twitter feed here.

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