You're Invited - Virtual Viewing Party

In honor of our feeling a bit under the weather, as well as the Anonymous Husband's relinquishing the football-heavy remote for the first evening in recent memory - to watch football at someone else's abode, naturally - we gleefully abandon our usual Hateful Exercise routine and declare this an evening dedicated to girl behaviors, including but not limited to wielding the remote control with utter and complete authority in manner of South American dictator. So should you find yourself in Austin on this fine evening - say, about 10 minutes from now - feel free to pop in for some of the following:

(credit: The Stationery Studio)


We did mention our weakness for Pretty Paper Products, yes? We know this is an impromptu party, but we'd like an excuse to send these too-sweet invites anyways. These have enough pink and sugar to keep the boys out, no?

(credit: MSNBC)

Champagne onesies for everyone! A dear friend brought this over, but we've yet to sample. Given the pink packaging, our fondness for anything produced by the Coppola family excepting Nicholas Cage, and the very concept itself - how could we go wrong?*

*I will of course drink my bubbly with vitamin-heavy orange juice tonight, because in Pretty family tradition, mimosas have medicinal power - and apparently magical ones that convince you that hosting a fictitious internet party is an idea that won't have readers calling for the butterfly nets . . .

And what good would our Girl Party be without cookies? For my health-conscious readers, fear not - these have oatmeal in them, and are thereby both delicious and healthy. In honor of this special occasion, we share with you our Top Secret Recipe for oatmeal chocolate chip lovelies. So in actual fact, it isn't secret at all - we found it over on Epicurious eons ago, but it's been such a reliable treat over the years that we feel it our civic duty to share with you here:

Chocolate Chip Cookies With Oatmeal and Pecan

2 sticks margarine
1 cup (packed) dark brown sugar
1/2 cup plus 2 tablespoons sugar
2 large eggs
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
2 cups plus 2 tablespoons all purpose flour
3/4 teaspoon baking soda
1/2 teaspoon salt
2 1/2 quick-cooking oats
2 cups semisweet chocolate chips (approx. 12 ounces; I prefer Ghirardelli chips)
1 cup chopped pecans (I usually skip the pecans - gasp! - as much as I like them in their own pies)

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Lightly grease 2 heavy large baking sheets, and don sweatpants in anticipation of the doughy goodness to come. Beat margarine and both sugars in large bowl until fluffy and well blended, preferably using one of these if you have them:

(credit: Kitchen Aid)

Attention, bakers - whatever you need to do to obtain one of these mixers, please do. In our case, we got married, but we imagine there are various other, less expensive means by which to procure this Heaven-sent baking aid.

Beat in eggs 1 at a time, then the vanilla. Sift flour, baking soda, and salt over margarine mixture and stir to blend. Mix in oats, the chocolate chips, and pecans if desired.


Loosen waistband, then drop dough by rounded tablespoonsful onto prepared sheets. Bake cookies until golden brown, about 14 minutes. Transfer cookies to racks and cool completely.


Makes approximately 4 gazillion 4 dozen. Or it would have, had we not consumed 1/2 the dough while baking despite our current, sure-to-be debilitating illness.


AND, on the entertainment front, you can join me as I give a test drive to the following, hopefully delectably immature TV goodies:

(credit: E Online)

Admittedly, we're a wee bit late to the "Gossip Girl" dance. As in, the dance has already moved on to the after-party and there we are at the now-empty gymnasium, wondering where the spiked bunch bowl went. Nonetheless, we'll valiantly attempt to catch up if we deem this worthy & invite you to join.

(credit: Buddy TV)

Haven't heard much about this one, but brave pop culture warriors that we are, we're intrigued enough to give this a shot.


AND, if we aren't rolling around on the ground from the champagne onesies and teenage drama by this point, I'd like to propose a toast and intensive discussion regarding the following:

(credit: People)

Others far more clever than us have gone over this intensively here, but suffice it to say for our purposes, well done, Ms. Spears. You might feel a little uncomfortable at our Girl Party in your Ice Capades outfit dress, but you otherwise look and sound so blissfully good that we'll sport you some PJs and a champagne onesie in honor of this promising turnaround.

Smootches,

Legallyblondemel

Did You Smile First?

If you'll allow me, I'd like to briefly remove my Snark Hat - which in my mind resembles one of those magnificent Kentucky Derby hats I'd flat kill to wear, except that my Snark Hat is lined with, ya know, shark's teeth or something - and talk about a sweet memory of Social Graces (surely a Pretty concept, yes?) that came to me during my first Junior League meeting here last night.

Growing up, I was shy. Not painful, wallflower-level shy, but more the type to hide behind books and sarcasm. Actually, appallingly little has changed on that front, but nonetheless - I was not a natural with other people, although I secretly, desperately wanted to be. I now consider myself a Recovering Introvert*, who truly does enjoy getting to know people, but I'll admit I have to work at it still.
*Do you think there are AA-style meetings for people like me? Can you just picture it - we'd end up meeting at Barnes & Noble and sitting around silently avoiding eye contact as we stare into our boxed wine or whatever.

In stark contrast, my beloved late grandpa, who was a father to me, was one of the two kindest, outgoing, most warmhearted gentlemen I've ever had the privilege to know; yes, I married the other one as fast as reasonably possible. But back to the point - whenever Grandpa would see me struggle socially, he'd often ask, "Did you smile first?" This irritated me to no end at the time - other people were supposed to say hello and be friendly if they wanted to meet me, not the other way around. If they liked me, my reasoning went, they would make the effort.

So fast forward many years to last night, where I walked into a room full of strangers at the Junior League meeting. For those of you unfamiliar with this social construct, think back to that impossible girl in high school - she of the good grades, impressive looks, extracurricular activities left and right, who dated the quarterback AND managed to be genuinely nice to everyone. If you were this girl, congratulations, and please bear with me. For the rest of us - now imagine a room full of 500 Impossible Girls, who all belong to the same club (albeit a club that has fabulous philanthropic aims as its sole mission), and you begin to see the stress factor for Recovering Introverts like me. I go in with my very best armor - handbag, shoes, clothes, merlot - but it is enough to make the best of us nervous.

As I am now blissfully, 100%, happily so very not in high school anymore - despite my penchant for watching it over & over again on TV - I get it now. I very gratefully carry the lesson my grandpa gave me when I walk into a room, where I'm now usually able to squelch the voice in my head urging me to run back to the car and seek out someone to make eye contact with or say hello to. By no means am I that Impossible Girl who can gracefully introduce herself, remember your name, and manage not to monopolize the conversation/ answer in monosyllables /get quiche stuck in her teeth, but I can now say that I am comfortably trying. And enjoying it. I will absolutely forget your name the first few times we meet while I mumble to you incoherently, but in all likelihood (for example, unless your name is Paris), I honestly, 100% secretly believe that you are an Impossible Girl that I'd be lucky to call a friend.

Edited to add: last night's meeting went very well, by the way, and I met some very nice Impossible Girls who I hope to get to know. If I could only remember their names,that is.
*********************************************************************************
Enough of these Precious Moments and back to the Pretty grind . . . we have a personal fashion rut we need to discuss AND Britney is appearing on the VMAs again. Stay tuned.