3 Things I've Been Doing Lately Instead of Using My Shake Weight or Eating Anything That's Not Beige

1. Watching my baby crawl. Soooo, I whined for months to family and friends about how he wasn't moving and just liked to sit and put things in his mouth (Jeff was all, um, does that sound like anyone you know?), and now he's finally doing it and I'm like, shit. Now I have to stop sitting and putting things in my mouth (touché, Jeff) and chase after this little adorable creature who moves like Gollum from Lord of the Rings crossed with a three-legged Corgi. It is super cute, but exhausting. Also, whenever I take a video of S. my voice automatically goes up like three octaves. The end verges on Mariah Carey territory. Consider yourselves warned.

Here is a bonus video, because, seriously, I do this all day. What else am I supposed to do with them? The Smithsonian already said no.

2. Whipping my hair. I needed a new headshot, so I asked my professional photographer husband to do it (btw, he just started his own business, so please HIRE HIM and keep me in Whatchamacallits and Sauvignon Blancs) and while I was trying to get my hair to stop looking so much like I was 65 and living at high altitudes, he snapped away, and well, MAGIC.

For some reason, the sensible shirtdress and gray background make me think of that scene in Romy & Michele's High School Reunion where they stop at a rural diner and ask if there is a business women lunch special. Incidentally, I'll tell you what my daily mom lunch special is: Three tugs on a squeeze packet of apricot and sweet potato mush and about seventeen carpet fuzz-covered Cheerios.

3. STILL trying to decide what infomercial product to buy. No, I haven't forgotten about that promise (OR the promise to eventually devote an entire post to the sweet red jean jacket Jeff got me for my birthday, shut up, you will love it). Judging from the picture above I think I might need to invest in a Flowbee, but I also covet Pajama Jeans and am intrigued and terrified by Sauna Pants. Also, seriously, does anyone want my Shake Weight? I will dust it off, autograph it in sparkle pen (if you don't want MY autograph, which is totally valid, I am happy to sign it as Queen Latifah, or maybe Ross Perot) and ship it to you. You can also have all of my exercise DVDs except, obviously, for the Girls Next Door Workout. If you want an embarrassing list of all of the fat-burning routines I have half-assed for about ten minutes in 2008 before abandoning them forever, email me.

3 Things I've Been Doing Lately Instead of Using My Shake Weight or Eating Anything That's Not Beige

Gonna Make It... Gonna Make It?

In keeping with the 80s movie/video theme I seem to have settled on for June, here are three clips that encapsulate my current state of mind. I'm totally burned out working on a pretty major project (NOT another baby, thank Jesus--although I'm still waiting on my, ahem, Communist Manifesto to arrive... Hey, Aunt Flo, the last time I saw you was in 2010--are you dead and no one told me?), but hopefully I'll be back to my usual wine-soaked antics soon.

Breakfast Club Dance from Brandon McGhee on Vimeo.

Gonna Make It... Gonna Make It?

I Gave Him My Heart and He Gave Me a Pant. An Elastic-Waist Pant.

I'm feeling really conflicted right now. Don't ask me why or how, but it's 1:16 am and I am 32 years old and I just realized...

LLOYD DOBLER WORE HAREM SWEATPANTS.

I don't know whether to feel like my entire fantasy relationship with him since 1991 has been a lie*, or to be impressed that he was so ahead of his time.

*Next you'll be telling me that my understudy fictional boyfriend, Jake Ryan, actually wore Laura Ashley sweater vests and had a lazy left eye...

SHUT. UP.

I Gave Him My Heart and He Gave Me a Pant. An Elastic-Waist Pant.

80s Movie Trope Thursday

This afternoon, my sister texted me:

I actually just saw a middle-aged dude steal a cab from an old lady. I feel like I'm in some stereotypical NYC movie scene haha.

And then, just now, while I was on my way to buy two bottles of cheap wine instead of one decent bottle (piddling funds = quantity > quality. Also, I may be a momma but I still like my wine. It's on People.com so it must be true), I saw a man in a classic red convertible throw his head back with Ferris Buelleresque abandon when the light turned green.

Guys. It's spreading!!! Keep your eyes open for Molly Ringwald stitching her own clothes out of burlap, or a scrappy preteen doing an athletic training montage, and REPORT BACK TO ME IF YOU SEE ANYTHING. Especially this:

80s Movie Trope Thursday