Made in Richmond

My cousin popped out another one.  Kellan Lee Walters was born at 4:26pm on Thursday, May 24th.  He joins his sister Sidney who will be 2 next month.  I will post the pictures  of  the guaranteed-to-be adorable/gorgeous/very intelligent little one once  get them.  I’m so looking forward to holding the new, smooshable guy as soon as possible.

So I wrote to dooce because I kind of love her. And by kind of I mean totally and completely. When I opened my email today and saw that she wrote back, I actually gasped. This is a very exciting start to the weekend.

I love love love Modern Atelier. That Amy sure knows her stuff when it comes to all things beauty. But more importantly, Girl makes some amazing scents. It’s pretty obvious that I love Richmond, as you can see from this and this. So naturally, when I read that she had created Richmond-inspired scents I was all over it. I ordered “Carytown Sweet Tea” and I love it. People at work love it. Ross even likes it and he hates perfume. So, if you love Richmond and smelling awesome you should get some.

WARNING:

Please don’t buy this toothbrush. I didn’t include the brand because I don’t want to get sued. Well, really because I don’t remember. I don’t know why I even bought it. Yes I do. Because I’m a sucker when it comes to newfangled dental paraphernalia. This one has a rubberized tongue-scraper on the back. Never have a particularly needed a tongue-scraper, but I fell for the advertising that told me I did. When they market this tool to you, they fail to mention that this tongue scraper is capable of tearing up the inside of your mouth, which is what this one did to mine. I have canker sores (don’t click that link; it’s gross) and sore spots all over the place in there. Have you ever had one canker sore? Take that misery and multiply it by three, add TMJ and the result will be me. Me who can’t have Diet Coke or anything salty or citric until they clear up. Dam.Mit.

So, we went to see Pirates.  I’ve gotta say, if they kept making those movie, I’d keep watching them.  I can’t think of any reason, other than the facts that Johnny Depp is delicious and I not-so-secretly want to be a pirate.  Although, I’d be a very bad pirate because I hate the ocean and I have a thing about teeth.  But I do like rum.

Anyway, you should go see the movie if you have 2 hours and 45 minutes to spare.  That’s right.  TWO HOURS AND FORTY-FIVE MINUTES.  For the third movie about a theme-park ride.  I’ll warn you, too, that it can be confusing at times.  I know.  A movie about a theme-park ride that could potentially confuse you with its plot twists, but it’s the truth.  But one thing that isn’t ever confusing is figuring out if Johnny Depp is delicious.  Because he is.  Really.  Even with the teeth.

It’s worth seeing in the theater, and I don’t say that about most movies because I’m lazy and will almost always choose the option of being in my bed when doing anything and everything.

I was at the gym at 6am today. I did this because Ross said he wanted to spend some time together this evening and I knew I wouldn’t be able to go later today. I’m not built to workout in the morning. I seriously wanted to throw up and/or fall asleep all day. Now we are about to leave to get something to eat and see Pirates. The 8:25 show of Pirates, a movie that is apparently almost 3 hours long. That means I will get home at a time that on most nights I am passed out asleep. I predict much crankiness for tomorrow.

Can we talk about how effing handsome my husband is?  Seriously.  Some of you might not agree that he is handsome.  And you would be wrong.  Because he is insanely good looking and I have the pictures and butterflies in my stomach to prove it.

Here’s one, courtesy of Jacob Lyell.  It doesn’t do him justice, but he’s still wonderful to look at.

When was the last time you saw eyes that were the same color as the sky?  And the skin.  Can we talk about how he has beautiful, brown skin?  And what about the laugh lines around his eyes?  Kill me with the wonderfulness of those.  The best part is that he gets more handsome each year.  I can’t wait to see what he looks like when he hits 40.  I might be dead from the swooning.

I heard something this morning that shocked me.  I was completely unaware of it, and maybe I’m the only one.   But it all seemed so backwards to me.  I was aware that you can’t donate blood for various reasons, like if you’ve recently gotten a tattoo or ever used intravenous drugs, etc.  But apparently as 1985,  if you are a male who has had sex with another male since 1977 you are completely banned from ever giving blood.  Not unprotected sex specifically.  Just sex.  Is *all* homosexual activity still considered risky behavior?  I guess if you are a healthy, gay man who has been in a long-term, committed, monogamous relationship, they still don’t want your blood.  Nevermind the shortage that they are always talking about.

I can understand the hysteria that probably put this restriction into practice in the mid-80s, but I don’t understand why it’s still practiced over 20 years later.  Why aren’t heterosexuals who have had unprotected not banned from donating blood?  And how do we know people are going to disclose all of their personal information?  I don’t remember ever having to take an oath before donating blood.

 You can read about it here:  http://www.time.com/time/health/article/0,8599,1624742,00.html

Any thoughts on the matter?

Is it possible for a 25 year old to have baby acne?  Because that’s what seems to be popping up on my face.  Not the acne of my adolescence, but a smaller, less noticeable but equally annoying version.  This presents a problem because, as the television tells me, moisturizing needs to be a priority starting your 20s and most acne washes dry you out like there is no tomorrow.  Luckily there is this:

This seems to keep things under control.   Now I just need a facial cleanser that can control my angsty mood swings as of late.  Bah.

Yes, I know this is my third post for the day.  I have much to say.

So, apparently I don’t need sleep anymore.  I slept ALL THE TIME when I was on the anti-anxiety, pro-fat-ass pills.  Now that I am meds-free (and still anxiety-free…well, mostly) I have no real desire or need to take naps.  Like ever.  Even on Saturdays when I would (until recently) wake up at 11 and then start yawning and dozing at around 1.  Now I can get up on Saturdays, function as a human being for several hours, and maybe take a nap if I have exhausted all possibilities for fun and can’t think of anything else to do.  I used to come home from work and sleep for 2 hours pretty much every single day.  That’s been replaced by seeing my husband and getting exercise.  What a nice change.