Sewers Needed Immediately!

A while ago when I was living with El Senor, I was out driving one evening. I just needed to be out of the house (I'd been sick for a couple days and cooped up inside). I started driving to Target but realized that if I went to Target, I'd spend money. I also realized that my friend Sidsel lived on the way to Target, and it would be much more fun and economical to go and pay her a visit. So I did, and she introduced me to my destiny.

She had an Amy Butler pattern for a nappy bag (diaper bag) and although neither of us needed a diaper bag, we both loved the pattern. So we decided to make it together that weekend. (And the finished product led me to get into the work that I'm currently doing, and the work that I would like to continue doing, so thanks, Sidsel!) Of course, once we counted up all the money we had to spend on fabric and supplies (and all the money that I have subsequently spent on Amy Butler products) I certainly wouldn't say that I saved money by visiting Sidsel that day...

Neither Sidsel nor I was an avid seamstress, but we both enjoyed sewing, and we found that it was much easier and much more entertaining to work on the project together. We each had our own sewing machine and we each would take turns reading the directions for what was next. In fact, we thought it was so funny that one of us would pull ahead and take the lead, then get behind and let the other person pull ahead and take the lead, and that it was much like geese flying in formation, where the lead switches out every now and then. We even started calling each other "goose."

Well, due to her selfish nature, Sidsel moved to Ohio for her husband's med school, which has left me without a sewing goose.

In June, Murray and I are going to Texas, and while I'm excited for the new experience, I'm not excited for the heat. I've decided that the only way I'll survive is by wearing lightweight cotton skirts, so I need to make at least two before I go. Does anyone want to be my sewing goose? I have Amy Butler's Barcelona Skirts patterns. We could even go fabric shopping together if you like! Here's the details:


1) You need your own sewing machine. I would like to do this at my house, but if you write a good enough essay, I might be convinced to take my sewing machine over to your house.

2) We'll need to do this on a Saturday or Wednesday by June 7th.

3) You don't have to be the same size as me. My mom told me how I can cut multiple sizes out of the same pattern.

I also would like to make these lounge pants for when I start working from home (after my trip to Texas). I don't have Amy Butler's pattern, but I could get it by buying her In Stitches book. If you don't want to do skirts but do want to do pajama pants, let me know and we'll arrange a sewing date.

In case you don't know.

By about the sixth grade, people were teasing me about my leg hair. Not that it was worse than your average sixth-grader's leg hair, but all the other sixth-graders were allowed to shave their legs. I had to wait till junior high. It didn't help that one of the worse teasers was El Senor. He even pointed out a couple of "two-inchers" one day. After that, I took a pair of scissors to my legs and tried to shear them without actually breaking my mother's no-shaving rule. It really didn't help much. And I couldn't disobey my mother, because who else would actually teach me how to shave my legs? It's not like I could just do it without a tutorial.

Near the end of the summer, though, I'd had it and I was definitely ready to defy my mother and shave my legs. I couldn't wait another month. And my mom was out of town for a week anyway. So when I was at a friend's house, I asked her how to shave legs. She just handed me a pink lady Bic and told me how. So, sitting on her bed, I shaved my legs for the first time.

Because I didn't mention water, soap, or shaving cream, you're probably cringing right now. And rightly so. I couldn't believe that that sort of pain and discomfort was what women had to go through to look beautiful. My legs turned a bright shade of red and were on fire for hours. And yet, I was still oddly a little proud of my graduation into womanhood.

I've come a long way in the leg shaving department, and what surprises me is that there are still women out there who are using disposable lady Bics to shave their legs! Switchback was one of these women until she came to stay with us for a few days in March. Because I've gone to Switchback's apartment in San Diego for two years running to play on the beach and go to Mexico, and during those minivacations I've used her shower, I couldn't help but notice the lady Bics scattered all over the tub. This didn't make much sense to me at all. How could a grown woman who lived in a beach town and went to the beach on an almost-daily basis not know that there was something better out there?

I believe that it was Nemesis who first introduced me to that Something Better, back in 2000. She announced to all the women at work that if you weren't yet using a Venus razor, you had never truly experienced a proper leg shaving. That, and you'd never go back. And she was absolutely right. To make matters better, Venus keeps improving their razor, so today, they offer a five-blade razor. Venus's five-blade razor is up on my list of life's necessities along with true love and chocolate.

When Switchback visited in March, I lent her my Venus razor just to try it out. She emerged from the bathroom and made a spontaneous testimonial about the whole new shaving experience she enjoyed. (Later, the Easter Bunny brought Switchback her very own Venus razor.)

For all you women who are still using lady Bics, I urge, implore, beg you to go out and buy yourself a Venus razor. It's worth every penny.

This post was not sponsored by Gillette. But I wish it were.

How Bazaar, How Bazaar

I am not a perfect person by any means. And so Murray must forgive me if I actually know all the words to How Bizarre by OMC. It was the '90s, for heaven's sakes. I can't be held responsible for the songs I used to like. (I might be held responsible because technically, I still like the song...)


Anyway, I wanted to let everyone know (as if you haven't heard already) that the Beehive Bazaar is going on this weekend. And Murray and I have a lot of goods on display. This picture isn't the best because you have to actually go to the Bazaar to see how cool it actually is.

Pro-Creating

Murray and I are creative people. We're always creating. We really support creative endeavors, too. In fact, I might even say that we are pro-creating. Even when we're not planning on being creative, it just . . . happens. We can't help it.


Yep, it's true. Well, I mean, not entirely. I stole this ultrasound from Stanclax. Our baby (just one that we know of) is currently only about this big:

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But it's also supposed to double in size this week, so if you're not reading this post in a timely manner, it might already be this big:

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It's early to be telling people, I know. And I would have kept it a secret a little longer, only I told one of my carpoolers why I was leaving our carpool (I don't know how my body's going to behave over the next little while and I don't want to be stranded at work when I should really go home and barf and sleep). And then I went to a work baby shower on Friday and this carpooler's boss made my announcement for me to every single woman in my department. So really, what's the point of keeping it in any longer?

And now, before I leave you to your congratulating of me, I have to say that I've been surprised by the number of people who have cited miscarriage statistics to me when they found out that I'm pregnant. As if I didn't start worrying about miscarriage the moment I found out that some serious cell division was taking place in my uterus. Why do people find it necessary? Is it going to prepare me more? Was I not already aware of the statistics? I may point out that statistically speaking, one is more than twice as likely to get a divorce as one is to have a miscarriage. But you won't find me, next time a friend announces her marriage to me, telling her, "Congratulations! Now, just so that you know, often times, the first one doesn't stick."

I'm bound to thank you for it.

On Friday night, Murray and I celebrated our one-year anniversary of our first date. Today, I'd like to thank everyone involved in getting us together. I won't go so far as to thank our parents for giving birth to us, or their parents for giving birth to them and so on and so forth, but I would like to express my gratitude for those on my side of things who helped to bring us together.



1) The BYU admissions committee for admitting me.
2) My biggest brother, for dating a girl with the initials KK.
3) KK for recommending me for a job at BYU Independent Study.
4) Stanclax for hiring me at Independent Study, where I could meet Daltongirl, Nemesis, and Sakhmet (Sakhmet only very briefly---she interviewed me for the position and then quit by the time I started, but believe me, she is integral to the way my life has turned out).
5) Nemesis for inviting me into her inner circle of friends and causing me to be in almost daily email contact with Daltongirl and Sakhmet.
6) Ambrosia for convincing me to start a blog.
7) Nemesis for encouraging me to actually write posts on my blog.
8) The most annoying girl I've ever met whose name I can't remember but who I hated in my design class who announced that you could buy the Adobe Creative Suite at the BYU Bookstore for $200. (Obviously this was a few years ago.)
9) The illustrators at IS for getting me interested in Illustrator and teaching me how to use it so that I could redesign my blog in a really appealing way.
10) Sakhmet for putting me in touch with her friend Heather to do some freelance editing.
11) Heather, for linking me on her blog a couple years later. Also, for blogging about something that matched Murray's search term when he was playing around on the Internet one night. (Murray clicked the link she had to my blog and the rest is history...)

Aaaaaaand finally....

12) Al Gore. For inventing the Internet.