10 posts tagged “linz”
See what I mean about trying to write? I'm going to stop that now before anyone puts an eye out. Instead, lets look at pretty pretty pictures together, shall we?
Thursday, Linz and I got to go to an exclusive bridal event at Hotel Derek. I'm not having my wedding there, but I'm down for free hors d'oevures and martinis. We practiced different wedding planning related gestures to use while talking about other things. And we looked adorable and shadowy.
We had a couple of martinis and came back to my place to eat dinner before having a girls' night. Getting ready is always fun. Beware of flared nostrils. They are massive and deadly. Do not try this at home.
Ron took the obligatory pre-launch photo. But Linz and I watch too much America's Next Top Model, so we were doing commercial, catalogue, and couture poses, while giving good neck and - of course - smiling with our eyes. Shown here is couture. (Linz is a national sternum and collarbone supermodel, clearly.)
Yes we're very silly. But not quite as silly as Ron who was trying to attack me with a blood pressure cuff. Sphygmomanometers: As fun to say as they are to play with.
We had a fun evening, which was much needed by all. My mom watched the kids for us, so Friday I watched them for her so she could recuperate.
Saturday, the girls and I went to the new park in downtown Houston called Discovery Green. It's trying to be the Central Park of Houston. It's usually really really fun, but it was pretty crowded on Saturday, and my little clones were too anxious to play very much. They were however eager to smile pretty :)
We also got to check out these half sphere thingies (their technical name, of course). Supposedly, one person sits in one, the other person in the other, and through some sort of sound wave trick, you can hear each other using normal voices even though they appear to be very far away. Once we were there, I discovered the magical trick is proximity, as they're not all that far apart. I was underwhelmed. But they make for a nice picture backdrop anyway...
Sunday was church and babysitting. Linz took Cayden to his first Astro's game and baby Prestyn stayed with us. I've never gotten to take many pictures of her, so I indulged. She is at an adorable age where she's just learned to clap and is quite proud of herself. I love 10 month olds. If I could give birth and have them instantly be this age, I'd have a dozen more.
She also has the prettiest eyelashes. I'm not entirely unconvinced that she isn't hiding an eyelash curler in her crib matress and furiously crimping away during naptime. She moves a ton so it's hard to capture the majesty of her eyelashes, but I gave it a good shot anyway...
I'm off to finish my weekend by cooking turkey spaghetti, playing Webkinz with the girls, watching the Simpsons, and trying to not think about all the wedding stuff I need to be thinking about.
In typical OCDWPT style (That's Obsessive Compulsive Disorder with Procrastinatory Tendencies. Look for it in the DSM-IV in the Spring of 2009!), I planned the girls Christmas dresses, curled and style their hair, and generally just spent so long on getting them camera ready, that I lost any good available lighting and therefor had no Christmas pictures this year. And on Christmas Eve (when we do our familiy get-together) I almost completely forgot to take pictures. So I figured that I would not have any decent photographic representations of this, the happiest Christmas ever.
However. Take 30mg Adderrall, add 44 oz of diet Coke, 2 Marlboro Ultra Lights and then sit in front of Photoshop CS3 for a few hours, and some of the pictures become quite passable....
Deceptively cute, aren't they?
The manic glee of Christmas which sets Avery in constant motion...
The pre-teen dramatic Christmas spirit of "Mom, I'm so over this photography crap. Can you get that thing out of my face now?" (Does age 5 count as pre-teen? 'Cause the attitude sure as heck fits...)
We love our Mommy because she gives us presents!
We love our Gaga because she gives us cookies!!
My sister and her adorable family. My nephew Cayden (age very very 2) was even nice enough to stop his head spinning around 360 degrees long enough for this picture. It was a Christmas Miracle!
And the lovely Ron. Dear, sweet, loveable Ron. His superpower? Complete inability to keep his eyes open for a picture. For any picture. Flash, no flash, posed, candid, anything. He blinks. I'm working on an animated GIF for those who don't beleive me. It's adorable. Most of the time.
And what's the most Christmasy shirt he could possibly ever wear? Why, the Buddha shirt of course! (We like it for the style, not for the religion, so you need not have an aneurysm Grandma. I promise we're at church almost every Sunday...) It's still fun to antagonize my mom though :) And yes, even when he's not facing the camera, the eyes are still closed.
Hope all of you had a really fabulous holiday of your choice. I miss you guys oodles and hope to be back in the swing of things by New Year.
Tell us about your holiday traditions.
Submitted by Talk is Cheap.
My favorite holiday tradition is my sister's birthday. Linz was born on December 23, 1981. The night before she was born, Mom and I drove around looking at Christmas lights, so we still do that tradition every year. And that is the last Christmas related thing we do until Linz's birthday is over.
Mom made the rules for her birthday early on:
No joint birthday/Christmas presents.
No wrapping presents in Christmas paper.
No wrapping paper with red or green.
No Christmas shopping on her birthday.
No Christmas carols on her birthday.
No verbal or implied acknowledgement of any day other than Lindsay's birthday, on Lindsay's birthday.
It probably seems extreme, but Mom wanted to make certain that her birthday didn't get lost in the midst of all the other Christmas craziness. And honestly, I look forward to it every year because it provides a much needed break from the madness. For one day I can quit stressing about presents and wrapping and cooking, and just celebrate with my sister. After that break, I definitely much more in the mood to resume the Christmas stuff with a better frame of mind than if I hadn't had the break.
I mean I'm still the big sister, so I still get to give her shit about it. In fact, I've taken to calling December 23 "Birthmas", just to tease her. But she knows I'm probably a more strict enforcer of the Birthday Decrees than anyone.
Thanks for Birthmas, Linz! ;)
Admittedly, these aren't the only pictures, but they're for sure the funniest ones. And sorry to cop out on the full story. I'm PMS'ing too much to write right now. Trust me, you should totally be thanking me for being aware of that. (You're welcome.)
Linz and me, all black and white and blurry.
Linz in the most ghetto fabulous shirt EVER. It's an inside joke, but I assure you it's a funny one.
Me as beer cozy. My mom is so proud of me! Because I'm nothing if not classy...
Linz making dancy dancy!
At brunch the next morning. Is it me, or is that guy on the magazine cover staring at me?
Handicap parking: Austin style.
Tomorrow, I will be 29 years, 11 months, 20 days, 13 hours, and various
minutes old! So I'm celebrating in Austin with my sister, Lindsay! For
yays! (It's a big milestone, that 29 years, 8 months, blah blah blah I
can't believe I actually sat here and tried to figure that out....)
We've been planning our trip for my 30th birthday for, what like a year
now? And we could never actually agree on a final destination. She didn't
want to go on a cruise. I didn't want to go to Vegas. She flatly denied my
suggestion to spend an entire weekend sitting in the Jimmy Choo store and
drooling on all the shoes. But we both finally agreed on Austin. It's not
too far away, I used to live there so I know the city and some people in it,
and it's absolutely beautiful this time of year. Logistically we couldn't
go on my actual birthday, but celebrating almost 30 will be just as fun as
long as I'm with my favorite little sister ;)
Expect many funny, possibly somewhat inebriated pictures upon my return.
Oh, and you'll have to marvel over my new haircut too. I might actually
update that silly, smirking, side profile shot. Stranger things have
happened.
Oh, and PS. Don't tell me happy birthday yet. It's not till Oct 22 and I'm
a completely rabid birthday person. Save it for then and I promise lots of
humor and insight on that actual day. I pinky swear. :)
I guess because I didn't go on a fashion obsessive streak on the first date, I'm making up for it now. I'm lucky that Lindsay is still speaking to me. Conversation as follows:
Me: I was thinking of wearing that brown dress. I never get to wear it and it's really pretty.
Linz: I don't like that one very much. It has a strange shape.
Me: Well what about the blue one?
Linz: That dress seems hard to match shoes and jewelry to.
Me: I didn't think that it was. I always did black with both.
Linz: Not the bronze shoes?
Me: Um, no. Should I?
Linz: Hmmmm. I don't know.
So this makes me think that the brown dress makes me look unbalanced and ungraceful (thanks for ruining my fave dress for me Linz!) and now my blue dress (which was always my go to dress to make me feel pretty) is in question. So I go shopping. Which I shouldn't do. And of course I find a beautiful Michael Kors dress that fairly sings to me from the clearance rack at Dillard's. Another phone call is in order.
Me: I found a really beautiful dress. It's totally on sale and it looks beautiful.
Linz: Just wear your blue dress.
Me: But the new one is beautiful. I'm not supposed to buy it though. I flipped a coin. It came up tails.
Linz: Did you try 2 out of 3?
Me: Yes. And 3 out of 5. And 5 out of 11. And any other statistical probability that would allow me to buy a new dress. God said no.
Linz: Blue dress. With black shoes.
Me: Ouch. This hurts. Bye dress! (grunts with effort). Okay I did it. Blue dress. Black shoes. Should i get new jewelry?
Linz: Don't you normally wear that black necklace?
Me: Yes, but isn't it too necklacey?
Linz: ......
Me: Linz? Hello?
Linz: Really?
Me: Okay. Sorry. Blue dress. Black necklace.
Linz: Thank you.
Me: But the blue dress looks better when my hair is longer. I don't feel that straight hair matches that dress. It's more of a curly hair dress.
Linz: .........
Me: Fine. Sorry. I'm normally not this bad am I?
Linz: Thankfully, no.
Show us one of your photos that you’d like to print out and frame.
These are a couple of my sister's bridal pictures and I think they are possibly the prettiest pictures of any person ever. I probably biased because she's my sister, but it's really not that much of a stretch. Technically, my mom took these shots, but I styled and coached. I don't know why these are the first photos to come to mind. I probably wouldn't print and frame them because hi, that's kind of creepy. She doesn't even have them printed and framed, so I shouldn't either. I guess because I never got a "real" wedding with a ring and dress and ceremony, I probably live vicariously through her shots.
Whatever the reasons, the pics are beautiful and still don't capture her amazing natural beauty.
or "Why I Love my Sister"
Took Linz to happy hour with me last night. She needed a teeny break from the exhausting world of SAHM-dom where she eats bon bons on the couch while watching Dr. Phil all day. Actually Prestyn is almost 2 months and Cayden is right in the middle of the funnest part of being 2, so her days are more like hand-to-hand combat. If anyone needed a couple hours away, it's her. Her husband was happy to "let" her go and "babysit" the kids, but insisted she be home by 8 pm. We didn't leave the house until nearly 7 because the husband was at the tanning salon of all places. So we bumped our curfew accordingly to 9pm. Dramatic, but hilarious pseudo-tantrums were the result of this decision.
8:18 - Jerry texts - "Have you left yet?"
I conspire with Linz on the best way to irritate him good naturedly and we drafted the following response.
8:25 - Linz texts - "Can't find shirt."
Which is so apt in its brevity and comedy and all the implied drunken sluttiness.
8:32 - Jerry texts - "Baby crying in closet. I'm taking Cayden to Hooters."
Touche. So he clearly knows the rules of the game.
8:41 - Linz texts - "Amateur nite at strip club. I'm up next. Will bring home money."
After that, he didn't really write anything back. And judging by his reaction when we walked in, he was a teensy bit irritated. But eventually he acknowledged the humor in the situation. Because really, how could you not?
Have you ever played matchmaker? How did it go?
When I met my future ex-husband, I felt really guilty. I'm about 5'9" which is tallish, but not so tall that I'm self-conscious of it. I'd dated guys shorter than me, but it didn't bother me, and it wasn't hard to find guys taller than me. My sister Linz, however, is 5'11" and all of the opposite is true. We were still both tall enough that it was always really irritating to see really short girls dating all the tall guys. But when I started dating Chris, who was 6'6", I felt particularly horrible because I didn't need someone all that tall like Linz did.
One night, Chris and I went out and I met a bunch of his friends. They were all friends he played basketball with, so they were all over six foot. There was one friend in particular I thought would be a good distraction for Linz, and he was 6'4". Linz was all of 18 or 19 at the time, and was in a phase where she'd date a guy for a few months, get tired of him, and move on. I thought this guy would be perfect for that. He was tall, he seemed to have the same taste in music, and he had a nice car. What more does a 19 year old need? I figured we'd at least have a few months of fun double dates together before she got bored and moved on.
Well, it's six years later. Chris and I are divorced. Jerry and Linz are nauseatingly happily married, with 1.5 kids. Cayden just turned two and Unnamed Fetus will make his/her arrival this summer. I would never have thought the two of them would make it this long, but they are strangely perfect for eachother in a really cute, dysfunctional way. Jerry is a kickass brother in law and I'm really glad I found him for Linz.
I know I'm all about being valued for my brains and humor and other intangible things. But do you know what feels really good? Walking up to a frou-frou fancy club with velvet ropes and beautiful people, dodging the valets parking various Mercedes and Dodge Vipers, and then approaching the velvet rope to wait in line -- only to have a black-suited, ear-piece wearing security man, with a seriousness rivaling a Secret Service agent, pull the rope aside and gently herd you away from the paeons waiting in line, and escorting you personally to the VIP entrance.
I know it's stupid and shallow. I know it probably had more to do with my sister's appearance than mine, since she looks like she was plucked out of a Vogue fashion spread even when she is 3.5 months pregnant. And once we got in the place, it wasn't even a place we enjoyed because it was populated primarily by Eurotrash in their uniform of sportcoats, strategically unbuttoned shirts, and preciesly mussed hair. But Lindsay and I agreed, that that was maybe the highlight of our night. We wanted to go back and do it again. Or maybe somehow bottle that feeling for the other 90% of the year when we are wearing no makeup, haven't showered in 2 days, and are trying to determine how best to change the poopy toddler without getting any poop on ourselves.
At least Linz has that feeling to take with her. We have officially had our last girl's night out for about 9 months. We went to have sushi. I taunted her with my seared tuna while she figured out which rolls were cooked. We then went to the Eurotrash place because it is one of the swank, smoke-free bars, so as not to upset the fetus. I even let her have an olive from my martini after I sucked all the vodka out of it. (Hey, that's what big sisters are for, you know.) And I now have someone to call the next time I visit Dubai. *insert eyeroll here* It was good to just get out and talk to her, since we rarely have a conversation that isn't interrupted somehow by a child. And clearly, as deep and ponderous as I am, I enjoy a good shallow ego fluff as much as the next girl.