Yummy Mummy™ in My Tummy

Yummy Mummy Diaper Bag1

Are you pregnant?

I’m not. But that doesn’t stop me from scouting out cute pregnancy and baby stuff.  No, I don’t plan on reproducing any time soon, but when I do, I fully intend to be one of the trendiest pregnant women ever to waddle the earth.

(I know, I know…I’m not even trendy now, so why would I be trendy with an extra 100 pounds on my face and a fetus growing in my self?  It’s just my dream, okay? If I have to be puke-y every morning for nine months, and grow ankles the size of grapefruit, can’t I at least envision myself looking trendy throughout my misery?)

And even though I’m not prego-my-eggo, it seems like every woman I’ve met lately has either been in the process of growing babies, or desperately wants to be, or just got finished doing so.  Thus, the chances are high that I will be invited to some—or a gazillion—baby showers in the near future.  And when I attend those showers, I want my gifts to be the cutest.  I want to win.

So, every time I come across a lovely bit of maternal paraphernalia online, I bookmark it for future reference.  {I’m kind of addicted to maternity shopping, if you want to know the truth.  When my older sister was pregnant with P-diddy, I bought her unborn child glass baby bottles and cute little clothes and the best cremes money could buy.}

And since I value my readers to such a great extent, I have decided to share one of my favourite finds with all of you.

If you have ever been pregnant, or expect to be, or were born from a pregnant person, you will be delighted with Yummy Mummy Maternity™.  Yummy Mummy™ is a 100% handmade company dedicated to cuteness and practicality.  They sell the sweetest baby blankets and wraps, which are lovely, but they’re not what I’m talking about today.

Instead, I want to introduce you to Yummy Mummy’s™ handmade, machine washable diaper bags (which can double as a book bag for school, or an activity bag for church, if you happen to be childless [which I do]).  They’re lined with super-sweet contrasting fabric, and the insides are just as lovely as the outside.

First up is the Amelia (in “Sage Lacework”):Amelia Diaper Bag 1

The first aspect I noticed about all the Yummy Mummy™ bags was how pretty they were—the second thing I noticed was their durability.  They feel so solid, without being too heavy.  I packed them full with all my accoutrements (which are just as many as any mom would carry in a diaper bag), and they held up splendidly.

This bag is large, but not overwhelmingly so.  I was lucky enough to bond with it all day on Saturday, and I felt so chic.  The entire time I was carrying it, I was wishing to be in California, where all the cool people are: On the beach.  It would have been perfect.

Amelia Diaper Bag PocketsThese bags have pockets galore—I wouldn’t be surprised if there’s even a magical hidden one that always mysteriously carries the exact change needed for a 32 oz. fountain drink at the local Quik-E Mart; that’s how highly I regard these bags.

There are 10 pockets in the Amelia—it literally has pockets within pockets—which provide ample room for every necessity imaginable.  I stocked it up with everything I could think of for a Saturday on the town, and I still felt like the bag was empty!  But even though it carries so much, there are enough compartments to keep things organised and un-cluttered.

Amelia Diaper Bag3After all was said and done, it didn’t even feel bulky—just suave.

Amelia Diaper Bag2I’m not a mum, and the bag wasn’t toting diapers, but if it was, it would have still been every bit as lovely.

Amelia Diaper Bag5Just try to deny it—see?  You can’t. It’s too beautiful.

Next up is the Manda (in “Morning Glory”):

Manda Diaper Bag1Again, with the cuteness.  Oi—I can hardly stand it.

The Manda is smaller than the Amelia, which makes it seem less beach-y, and super easy to dress up.

Manda Diaper Bag2Oh, yeah, and I finally got brave enough to don a pair of tights—I’ve been too afraid of them up ’til now.  I felt ridiculous wearing them, but they did keep me warm.

I took this bag to church with me; even though it is smaller than the Amelia, it nicely fit everything I needed.  It, too, has pockets up the wazoo, which are perfect for clutter-prone individuals like myself.  With all the pockets, there’s a “place for everything, and everything in its place.”

Manda Diaper Bag PocketsMy stuff looks so fancy in this bag, and yours can, too!

Manda Bag LiningI’m quite smitten with the contrasting lining patterns of all the Yummy Mummy™ bags.  I could never be crafty enough to come up with such a cute design.

The best part?  I am supporting local businesses.  All the Yummy Mummy™ merchandise is produced locally {in Mayberry}, but don’t fret, Americans!  They ship to the States, and at reasonable prices.

Manda Diaper Bag

The bags are priced between $50-$65, and each comes with a matching changing pad (plastic on one side, fuzzy-wuzzy minky on the other—they’re precious).  That’s already comparable to Etsy™ prices, but I’ll do you one better: Go check out the Yummy Mummy™ website before April 1st, and you’ll get 20% off your order.  And, just when you thought the deal couldn’t get any sweeter…

…the Yummy Mummy™ Blog is also offering a ginormous giveaway—as in, $105 worth of handmade merchandise, including your choice of a bag like the ones featured today—which is ending on April 13th. {A hot tip to those of you who are usually too pessimistic to enter giveaways…there’s only six entries so far! [Sorry to those six of you who’ve already entered.  I think your chances just decreased.]}

I don’t promote any old product—I promote the best.  Go check out the Yummy Mummy™ website and blog.  Drool over the sweetness.  Enter the giveaway.  If you don’t think it’s as lovely as I do…you’ll be blacklisted from Archives of Our Lives forever.

(Just kidding…)

{…but do you really want to risk it?}

Posted in Canada, do what I say, fashion people, like-it-link-it | Tagged | 21 Comments

The Day With the Positive Outlook

I am at a particularly fortunate age in my life; I am at an age that fits.  A lot of people, young and old, long to be what they are not.  Teenagers may wish for the freedom and independence of adulthood, and middle-aged folks often long for the carefree days of their youth.

c&pk at Disney TeacupsThis photo was taken at the beginning of January, one week into my weight-loss quest.  I wish I’d already lost my 19 pounds by then, because this picture would be just perfect.  Every time Poor Kyle sees it, he smirks to himself and says, “Dang, I’m hot.” Only he says “hot” with two Ts.  He loves to look at his face.

Me?  I’m perfectly happy with my age.  I’m young, but not too young to drive (and isn’t that the goal of nearly every teenage anxiety—oh, how I anticipated the day I could get in a car and just…go).  I’m old, but not so old I can’t drive.  I’m quite satisfied to reflect on the past, and anticipate the future, but ultimately just embrace the present.

Oh, sure, there are times when I don’t feel old enough—or perhaps mature enough—to deal with issues in my life.  Take, for example, two weeks ago, when I went to have my face butchered and my teeth ripped from their sockets:

I was in the waiting room filling out medical paperwork, waiving my right to be revived if dead, and donating all my organs to noble causes, when I came to the line requesting the signature of the patient, or his/her legal guardian.  So, naturally…

…I turned to my left…

…I turned to my right…

…and was dismayed when I realised my mother was nowhere to be found.

“Oh yeah,” I thought, “I guess I’m my own legal guardian now.”

Do you know how it feels to sign your life away all by yourself, without parental consent?  It is at the same time both liberating and terrifying.

Those instances are rare, though; I am, for the most part, quite content with my age as it is now.  I’m young and independent, but I’m still lucky enough to have a tight-knit group of family and friends as a support system.  I have everything I need, and probably more than I deserve.

Happy.

I’m very happy.

And how many people can say that about themselves?

{Hope you have a capitol weekend.}

Posted in introspection, Married Life, Overall Good Things, self-actualisation, this little girl | 20 Comments

It’s Colder Than it Oughtta Be in March

Colder Than it Oughtta Be in March

It was almost spring, and then…it wasn’t.  Too bad, so sad.  All day today, I’ve been singing the song “July {A Plain Morning}” by Dashboard Confessional.  Actually, I haven’t been singing the entire song, just the part that goes, “it’s colder than it oughtta be in March.”  Because it is.  Colder.  Much colder, in my opinion.  Everybody’s saying so…

“Don’t worry, Camille,” they say, “this is the worst winter we’ve had in a long time.  It’s not always this bad.”

Okay, then.  I won’t worry.  What did worrying ever get me but an ulcer and a hernia, anyway?  Instead, I’ll be happy, because I’m all about mind over matter, and matters of the heart, and the heart knows no end, and end of tangent.

List of Things I Like Better Than the Cold [in no particular order]:

1.  On my desktop there lives a recently-downloaded .pdf file. It contains the credit requirements for my degree in English—that’s not what makes me happy.

Bah English!

What makes me happy is that the file is called “ba_english,” and every time I see it (which is about 10,000 times per day), I think to myself, “Bah!  English!”  Which is funny.  Because that’s how I feel about the subject, and all my classes.  And about school.  And about the credit requirements I have yet to fulfill (which are many).

2.  Queen Helene’s The Original Mint Julep Masque.

Queen Helene Mint Julep Masque

It’s a masque, first of all, which is far superior to any ol’ MASK.  Secondly, Queen Helene made it.  Somewhere in the world, there’s a woman named Helen who decided to become French and call herself a Queen, and then market a super-inexpensive face MASQUE, just for kicks.  Helen?  You’re amazing, and if you want to be Helene, fine.  Thanks for producing the masque.  Also, what the heck is a julep?  Anyway, it doesn’t matter; you can buy it here, or at Wal-greens™.  I think it’s $3.99.

3.  The name Helen always reminds me of my mother. She’s not named Helen, but when I was growing up, she would always declare “Helen Keller!” in place of other choice swear words.  I love my mom.

4.  This picture text I got from my sister today. It was captioned, “The Joys of Motherhood.”

The Joys of MotherhoodHer kid is the fat one strapped to the back.  The one strapped to the front is her niece.  She got all situated like this, and decided she was going to walk to the store—to buy groceries!  Without a stroller!  My sister is so funny.  {It runs in the family.  [Funny-ness, not motherhood.]}

5.  That one professor finally gave me a grade I deserve. It’s about time:

That Heinous Prof.It’s a good thing, too, because she was sucking the hope right out of me.  As I sat to take this exam, I thought to myself, “There’s no way I will possibly be able to measure up to her la-la-land idea of quality writing.  At best, I’ll get another 70-ish%.  But I dare not hope for anything, not even a 70%.  I’d better be prepared for a 50%, or heck, even a 0%—never know what she might find wrong.” Hope-sucker.

6.  Re-stocked.

Fresh DDPI was getting sick of Diet Coke™.

7.  I’m about to be $100 richer. My sister and I have a bet as to whether or not I am hypothyroid-astic.  She swears I am; I hope I’m not.  I had an appointment today with my doctor, who ordered blood work.

Thyroid Lab WorkHe thinks it might not be necessary, though, because he’s fairly certain I’m NOT DISEASED! Only time will tell.  I get the blood drawn on Friday morning.  It’s going to make my sister really mad, because she’s super cheap, and would have liked an extra $100.

8.  I am now vain about my nose. I never thought I would be—I never thought about it one way or the other, in fact.  But now I’m just like Anne of Green Gables, who said, “I’m afraid I think too much about my nose ever since I heard that compliment about it long ago.”  And I, dear readers, shall forever be trapped in the same snare of vanity along with dearest Anne.  Busy Bee Lauren said, in a recent post on Niki’s blog, “I love Camille…and I just noticed she has the PERFECT nose. Such a cute shape. She should have a silhouette made to showcase that cute thing.” Wasn’t that sweet?

NoseStill, I don’t think it’s much to sneeze at.  Heh.  Punny.

The end.  See?  Mind over matter really does work.  I’ve forgotten all about how cold, snowy, miserable, and mucky it is outside.

Oh, wait…  I just remembered.

Helen Keller!

Posted in blogger finger, Canada, good tunes, It's All Good, like-it-link-it, Overall Good Things, thisandthat | 14 Comments

“This Ridiculous Country”

I opened up a bit of a political discourse a few months ago when none of the Canadian students in my American Lit. class would raise their hands for me.  A lot of my American {and some Canadian} readers were surprised that the overall opinion of Canadian college students was a bit…hostile…toward the United States.  I received a lot of baffled comments on that post, like…

…To think that no one will raise their hand for us bothers me….

…Why such hatred for America? I don’t really get into politics, it sorta confuses me. Do Americans have a hatred for Canada?…

…Wow, I being a dual Canadian/US citizen find that a little offensive that only one person in an American Lit class would have positive feelings towards the US…

…Why the hate…

…So much for our “friends” to the north…

…I don’t know why people hate us so much…it seems like we are the good guys…

…We’ve always heard that our country is the “greatest on earth.” Maybe it really isn’t…

After publishing the post, and reading the subsequent comments, I wanted to explain the issue more clearly.  People seemed confused about the negative opinion toward America, and I thought some clarification was in order.  However, I realised it would be difficult to do without offending either country’s citizens, and basically put it on hold until further notice.

Well, further notice is here:  Thanks to the Fox television show, Red Eye with Greg Gutfeld, I don’t have to worry about explaining it anymore.  Mr. Gutfeld covered it for me, when he attempted to satirize Canada’s military in a recent episode of his 3 a.m. “news” show:

It’s an atrocious attempt at hilarity, and a failed attempt at that.  Why?  Because it makes fun of military and makes light of the soldiers’ daily sacrifices.  This is such an ignorant attempt to garner laughs—I felt sick the first time I watched it, and every time since.

Why do Canadians feel hostility toward the United States? I should think it’s becoming obvious.

I frequent a Canadian blog called SmartCanucks.ca, and when this segment was published on the blog, I knew it was going to cause a stir.  In case you don’t have time to read the post and its comments, here are just a few of the reactions:

…Americans are so brainwashed and stupid it is not funny…

…Is it any wonder the world really doesn’t like Americans…

…Americans like this are the reason people all over the world think they are loud, obnoxious boors…

…It is no wonder the rest of the world is now cringing and reaching for the nausea pills when the US crows about how great it is…

Now, I’m not a sentimental girl by any stretch of the imagination, but in reading these comments, I literally cried—as in, tears were shed.  Tears were shed on behalf of so many Americans who are good, educated souls, but nevertheless are stigmatized as arrogant and rude.  Tears were shed for the soldiers who were made a mockery—is there any shame in admitting that times have been hard on a country; that they simply don’t have the resources to continue down the war path?  I cried for the fact that I am living in the midst of this turmoil; I am proud of my country, but not necessarily proud of certain fellow Americans.  I cried for the fact that I cannot change any of it—not the ignorance of a small percentage of Americans, nor the hurt they cause the rest of the world.

Evidently, such a fuss was raised about the segment that Mr. Gutfeld issued a public apology, saying it was “in no way an attempt to make light of troop efforts.”  I don’t know what else it could have been, Mr. Gutfeld, except perhaps a public display of ignorance and idiocy, and a poor reflection of American sympathies.

Canadians can take a joke—don’t think they’re a bunch of stuffed-shirts.  {Have you seen Strange Brew?}  Just for the record, here’s a better—no, brilliant—way to make fun of Canada {the fact that Jeremy Hotz is Canadian certainly helps}:

If you’re in a hurry, just watch the last minute of this and the first minute of the next one…

But if you can spare 20 minutes, I highly recommend the entire show.

He’s joking about the Canadian army’s relative neutrality on the national scene, which is not necessarily a bad position to take.  Greg Gutfeld, on the other hand, mocks the country’s lack of resources to maintain their military strategy, which is a low blow.

Anyway, all I’m saying it that it’s been done before, and to a much cleverer degree.  If Mr. Gutfeld was really struggling to think of something funny (as he surely is [if he even has a job anymore]), he could try any of these 10 jokes about Canada—they’re all better than the senseless garbage he’s come up with thus far.

And, just for the record, I’m pretty sure the blonde in the first movie is chomping gum, like a cow chewing cud, on national television.

Paltry ratings and 3 a.m. air time are no excuses…that’s just tacky.

Posted in ask me anything, Canada, fiascos, mediocrity | 15 Comments

This Post Sponsored by the Number Seven

**Posted as part of Jen’s (from Sprite’s Keeper) weekly Spin Cycle.  Keep checking out this post all week long for more of the quirkiest quirks on the web.***

Making Seven With Fingers

The number seven resonates with me, and I’m not sure why.  Some might call it a quirk, and I don’t really have a better explanation for it, other than to say that it’s almost like I’m wired, or programmed, to the sound of seven beats.  Does that make sense?

No?  Not at all?  I’ll try harder (I’m a hard tryer).

For example…

I’m selling loaves of bread door-to-door on a Saturday afternoon.  I approach the front door of the neighbor’s house, raise my hand to knock, and—KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCKSeven knocks.  {By the way, has anyone ever noticed how ridiculous the word “knock” is?  Just look at it!  It’s absurd.}

For another example…

I’m wearing slippers in the kitchen (I always swore I’d avoid being “barefoot in the kitchen,” so now I make a special point of being slippered while I’m cooking).  I’m preparing a nice, hearty ragu to serve over tonight’s linguine.  It’s going to be delicious.  I dip my little finger in the vibrant red concoction, and raise it to my mouth for a taste.  Needs salt. I reach for the sea salt grinder, remove the lid, position it over the pot, and—BACK FORTH BACK FORTH BACK FORTH BACKSeven turns of the sea salt grinder.

Hold Up Seven Fingers

I brush my hair with seven fluid strokes.  I rinse my face with seven handfuls of water.  Seven swipes of deodorant (which is way too much, but I can’t stop at just two or three).  Seven swishes of salt water in my wounded mouth.  When I used to play sports, it was seven solid dribbles before a basketball free-throw, and seven bounces before a volleyball serve.  Seven times, played without mistakes, means I’ve properly learned a run on the piano.  When passing a slow driver, I let the blinker click seven times—exactly seven—before I turn it off.

Seven…always seven.

But it’s not like I suffer from obsessive-compulsive disorder.  I’m not anal; heaven knows I’m not a neat freak—my kitchen floor hasn’t seen a mop in weeks, and I sort of take pride in the fact that I’ve never once cleaned the windows of this house (I’ve lived here almost two years).  So what’s with me and all the sevens?

The only reasonable explanation I can formulate is that I’m just…programmed…to the number seven.  I mean, think about it:  I was born on September 25th (2+5=7!!!!), 1986 (9,8,7!!!!,6).  My name, C-A-M-I-L-L-E?  Seven letters long.

ASL SevenI’m not fluent in ASL, but I nevertheless happen to believe that “7” is the coolest number to sign.

Quite frankly, I won’t be one bit surprised if I die and resurrect seven times, or my children are all born with seven toes on each foot—the extent of my wiring is just that deep.

The real irony of this whole Situation of the Sevens is that I don’t even like odd numbers.

They creep me out.

Are any of you wired to a number like me, or am I just whackadoo?  Actually, no.  Please don’t answer that.

Posted in oh brother what next, self-actualisation, spin cycle, thisandthat | 26 Comments

{I’m Losing Hair}

Monday again. I’m sighing. I don’t like Mondays.  (I really have no reason to dislike the first weekday—I don’t have school, work, or anything else looming over my head.  Nevertheless, I just…don’t like Mondays.)  And since I firmly believe that nothing hard should ever have to happen on a Monday, I am going to go easy on you today.  No hard reading, deep emotions, or heartfelt proclamations; instead, I’m just presenting a few random thoughts.

You’re welcome…

Randoms:

1)  For years, my older sister has been nagging, nagging, nagging, for me to “get my thyroid checked.”

t3hypo

What she means is, my family has a long history of hypothyroidism (whatever that means), and it’s supposedly very hereditary.  Some of the symptoms are fatigue [check], weakness [check], coarse, dry hair [check], dry, rough pale skin [check, check, check], hair loss [check], cold intolerance (can’t tolerate the cold like those around you) [check], depression [check], irritability [have you met me?  check], memory loss [huh?  oh yeah, check], and decreased libido [none of your dang business].  Today, I’m making an appointment to get tested.  The procedure involves needles and blood loss, which is mainly why I’ve avoided it for so many years.  Why the sudden change of heart?  Funny you should ask…

2)  Poor Kyle and I finally spent some of this month’s fun money on Friday.

funmoney

We went out for Chinese (because a bowl of won ton soup was the only thing that could make me happy, and oh, did it ever make me happy!).  While waiting for our orders, we sat there looking at each other, sipping our water, and out of the blue, Poor Kyle says, “Is there some kind of vitamin you can take that will help your hair?”

Nope.  Not kidding.  Word for word, that’s what my husband said to me on our first date in months.  So romantic.

So as soon as we got home, I started Googling™ causes of hair loss (because that’s the issue here—the steadily increasing quantity of my hair that falls out in the shower [and trust me, I don’t have much to lose; my hair is already quite fine {and not in the “DANG, GIRL!” sense, either}]), and what do you know?  It’s a symptom of the disease my sister has been accusing me of for years.  And now, I’m setting an appointment; not because of my health and wellness, but because each strand of hair I lose drives me further from my husband’s not-so-tender embrace.  Plus I don’t want to be a scraggle-head.  I’m so vain.

3)  I forgot one.

merkley-jiating

The other day, I posted about people who’d featured me in special posts on their blogs, and I realised I forgot one!  I’m so sorry, Emily!  Emily {Merkley Jiating} wrote about me in a “favourites” post back in December—it’s nice; you can read it here, if you’re so inclined.  Emily and I went to the same high school, but she’s a few years younger than me, so we don’t really know each other in person.  She’s currently living in Utah with her husband, and she documents her life as a newlywed and almost-newlymothered.  She also posts weekly recipes called “Tuesday Thyme,” and they always look very delicious.  What’s not to like?  Go visit her.

Anything random happen to you over the weekend?  Help me ring in the new week—heaven knows I need all the help I can get.

Posted in do what I say, fiascos, health and vitality, like-it-link-it, mondays suck | 13 Comments

I’m Not as Good as Some People Think.

I’m loved.  Who knew?

No, but seriously—I’m loved.  Or at least liked.  Which is a nice feeling, you know?  It’s nice to be important, but it’s more important to be popular.  No, that’s not how it goes… Well, it doesn’t matter.  The point is, I was just chosen as Niki’s Featured Favourite!  This is quite an honour, considering I’ve never met her before, and she seems like one of the cool kids back in Mesa—everyone who’s anyone is commenting on her blog these days.  She must not know what a dork I am in real life.  Suckah!  I sure fooled her.

But back to business.  The duties of my short reign as Featured Favourite deemed that I answer a list of questions, which Niki then posted on her blog, in tribute {I’ve always wanted to be tributed!}.  In other words, she posted so I didn’t have to.  Thanks, Niki!  Go ahead and check it out, if you’re interested.

But it got me thinking…  I have been tributed a few times during the lifetime of this blog, and I appreciate each and every one of my precious memorials (gosh, I’m really getting a god complex, aren’t I?  Before I know it, my head will be the size of Pluto [poor little fellow deserves more tributes]).  So it seems only right that I return the favours.

I give you…

The List of People Who Like Me Enough to Say So
(chronologically ordered)

1.  Cristin {Tales of an Ordinary Housewife} mentioned me in a “favourites” post back in September—you can read it here, if you’re so inclined.  Cristin is one of the first people I ever blog stalked.  Her brother-in-law, Steffen, told me about her blog on the day I started mine.  She’s a mother of two, and a funny funny person.  She writes about things like how her mom gave her and her sisters mushroom haircuts when they were little.  What’s not to like?  Go visit her.  *I did not include a picture of Cristin because she does not have a profile/”about me” page, and I didn’t feel right stealing any other sort.  Sorry, Cristin.*

Katie2.  Katie {Confessions of a Newly Married Couple} wrote an entire post about me a few months later, in January—you can read it here.  Once again, I was the initiator of this blogging friendship—I found her blog while Googling™ “cupcake truck” [why I was looking up the term “cupcake truck,” you’ll never know].  She lives in Connecticut, which screams FANCY!, YUPPIE!, and CHIC!—three things I strive to scream myself, but have so far failed to do.  In other words, she’s living my dream.  Oh, and she works at Yale—as in…YALE.  The university.  You know, no big deal.  She’s very funny, and writes about things like her pregnant belly and girl scout cookies.  What’s not to like?  Go visit her.

Whitney3.  Whitney {Ach and Winnie} included me in a “favourites” post a month later, in February—you can read it here.  Whitney was a grade or two younger than me in high school, and we were never friends because she was too cool for me.  She still is, in fact, and I can’t figure out how she came to like me, but I take what I can get.  She and her husband make a handsome couple, indeed—you should visit her blog just to look at their lovely pictures.  She is a dance teacher, a recently-graduated interior designer, and a baby-grower [at least for another couple weeks].  She writes about things like panic attacks over pregnant feet and ill-fitting shoes.  What’s not to like?  Go visit her.

RatalieNose4.  RatalieNose {EverybodyNose} wrote about me twice in March—first, to give me an award; and second, as a fun comment giveaway sort of game.  Of all the tributees, RatalieNose knows me the closest in real life, so these posts have actual anecdotes about me.  They’re really quite lovely.  She is still in high school, and it’s fun reading her blog and remembering my own golden olden days.  She has such a positive, fresh outlook on life, and is starting to grow quite a following for such a new blogger.  She comments on nearly every post I write and has been a faithful reader almost from the beginning.  I think she likes me more than I’ve ever liked myself, which…you know…it’s nice.  RatalieNose hosts frequent “giveaways” on her blog, wherein every commenter gets something written about them in a subsequent post.  Clever.  She writes about her friends, her family, and high school life.  What’s not to like?  Go visit her.

Niki5.  Niki {A Lovely Lifestyle} wrote about me today.  I’ve never met Niki, but I feel like we are good friends anyway.  She is probably the sweetest blog friend I’ve never met—I don’t know that I’ve ever read a cynical or snarky word on her blog; she’s like 100% pure cane sugar.  She lives in Mesa and is a connoisseur of all things vintage and lovely—the pictures alone are worth the trip to her blog.  She writes about life with her quirky husband, their dog, and “Lovey,” the long-awaited baby who’s not yet hatched.  What’s not to like?  Go visit her.

If you’ve written something nice about me, but were not included in this list, I’m very sorry.  Better write another one.

Heh.

Posted in blogger finger, do what I say, like-it-link-it, watch out or I'll blog about you | 23 Comments