Poppin' Tags

photo courtesy of http://portable.tv

  Poppin' Tags. Macklemore coined the phrase, but Matt Hubbard personifies thrift shop livin' luxury.  After the recent populism resurgence, second hand shopping is "in" again, and genuine thrift shoppers not only buy bargains but get things for free: dumpster divin' style!  Yep, my husband LIVES to find "gently used" items discarded near (occasionally lying atop) the receptacle  bin.  Although I don't get the same thrill from the sport as Matt, I have been an accessory to thrifting. 

     The first time we thrifted together was while looking for a Halloween costume. I wanted to dress Matt as Roger Sterling (Mad Men) but we didn't have the right clothes for him to wear at my house (he was still living in Dallas at the time).  So off we went to find befitting dress clothes for the nineteen sixties.  First stop, Goodwill.  We found a couple of dress pants, black and grey-both under $10! With googly eyes Matt said, "These are nice slacks!  I can't believe they're so cheap!"  He wore those pants and not just to the party.  

     I too enjoy the bargain shopping. I've bought numerous items.  What usually happens is that I shop charitable second hand stores for an event; costume or themed party, ugly Christmas sweater party, spirit days at school, but then I end up finding a great pair of capris I can't live without or a bright, springy shirt that's perfect for a Saturday morning in April.  However, I draw the line at trashcan hunting.  Matt does not.

     When we lived in Lubbock, he was constantly dragging in "finds" from the alley similar to that of a dog hauling in a dead bird.  "Look at this lamp?" he'd say, displaying his new find or "can you believe someone threw away this bike?  Looks like new!" he'd exclaim.  However, as he tinkered with the lamp disappointment would sit down beside him.  And in short time the "find" took a trip back to the dumpster. 

    After moving to DFW this past summer, his "neighborhood" expanded, a trash-diggers wonderland. Upon moving in he stumbled across a "Sander! Brand new!  Still in the Box!" next to the dumsters! (The sander currently resides in our garage and we're really not sure if operable.) 
 
     Next while at the Marcus tennis center, he found a lunchbox lying ever so slightly at the top of the trash can. "Did you see this?" he said, holding up the fabric tote as I walked up.  I told him I had seen it and wondered why someone had thrown it away.  Unlike him, I didn't investigate further. "There isn't a spot on it. It's perfectly clean inside." Eyes dancing, he said to me, "Haven't you wanted a new lunch pail to take to school?"  I happily took the lunchbox and admittedly, use it every day. 

     Finally, just last week he wheeled in a Swiss Gear Rolling Briefcase in black.  "It smells a little like gasoline, but I think the odor comes from being stored inside someone's garage." He began fixing the problem.  And in case you ever need to "fix such a problem" here is how: 

1. Stuff gain fabric dryer sheets into the zippered pockets.  
2. Remove and repeat until smell dissipates.  

    He took it with him to Florida last week and reports that it's fully functional, holding all three of his laptops (2 for work and 1 for play- a hoarder's blog to follow) and other work materials. The girls teased him about it to which he replied, "One man's trash is another man's come up."  He has taken Macklemore's words to heart.


Truly, Cinderella

The Personal Blog: A Literary Selfie

     My seventh grade daughter bounded into my classroom today and told me, "Mom, I'm an awesome actress!  I'm definitely going to Broadway!"

     To which I responded, "Humility Madilyn, humility.  Narcissistic much?" She laughed and then I followed up by saying, "Of course you're wonderful!  Tell me what happened today."

     We live in a time of unadulterated vanity.  The Kardashian culture.  "Don't tell me how wonderful I am, because I'm going to tell you first," mentality. Scores of teenage girls post duck-faced selfies, no longer restricted to Sundays instead they post most every day of the week. I know the cardio habits of a stranger (the woman who FB befriended me after I met her at a conference) because of her copious status updates regarding her cross-fit morning workouts. And while I must admit I'm jealous, I'm not jealous enough to go to cross-fit myself!  Another friend tweets the benefits of a gluten free diet, and although I've dipped my toe into this growing fad, I've yet to submerge fully.  A friend from the past brags about the newest piece of ocean front property she's purchased because she is "so blessed by God!" I guess that means I'm not.  Instagram, Twitter, and Facebook have created the new social world in which we live, full of self-promotion.  But we can't blame social media for all our ills—we, the players control the information.  Clearly society craves the ability to connect, not limited to friends, family, and neighbors.  We desire intimacy, even with those whom which we lost physical contact with long ago, and in turn we share ourselves.  For some time now I've objected to this new obsession maintaining that self-effacing propriety breeds respectable women and men, and humanity is doomed, our lives devoid of authentic human interaction if we don't stop.

     However, today I recant.  How can I judge?  I'm just as guilty.  I post irrelevant status updates and glamorous vacation pictures too.  I'm guilty of choosing the perfect picture displaying my best to upload.  And why?  The answer is why not?

     As with anything else newly introduced, we learn how to maneuver and self-monitor.  We learn that it's rude to surf endless Insta images and tweets when enjoying family dinner. We learn that trivialities throughout the course of the day don't always require historical documentation.  Although finding "your dog asleep under the bed" might merit a patient nod and smile, quite possibly even a like from the social landscape to show that we can all relate.  We're staying in touch, and though naysayers claim, “it’s the end of communication" I beg to differ.  It's new and most people inherently dislike change.  They forget to find the good.  

     Allow me a few more words, the perfect anecdote. A best friend of mine recently had a baby. Her husband wanted to post pictures of their adorable, infant son, but anguished over doing so. My friend asked him, "why?" He replied that he didn't want seem like a braggart.  She replied by saying, "If there were ever a time to post pictures, pictures of our newborn son, the time is now."  Excellent point. 

     Naysayers have forgotten the good.  Good like: world events are unveiled instantaneously and doesn't that create accountability? Good like: I'm able to watch my baby cousins grow in real time even though they live hundreds of miles away.  Good like: I'm able to share moments, like my daughter's high school graduation, my youngest daughter's talent shows, my husband's quirky stories, my step-daughter's un-braced teeth with all those who might want to celebrate with me.  In turn, I want to know about your life, too.  To quote Veronica Roth, we live for the moments "that don't suck" and during the other times our hearts break together because this is our new community.

     As of today, I'm crossing back over to the dark side.  I will kiss the pool of water and listen for Echo to return.  And here is why: my life, much like yours, is filled with fantastic, bizarre stories that cannot be kept secret anymore.  The stories wiggle and writhe, scratching at my fingertips begging to be told, but time and again I quiet them because I haven't wanted to appear ostentatious sharing brazen family tales.  I write for myself, but haven't written to you.  Today, the book is opened.  The secret is out.  

     After marrying Matt in 2010, I still feel like I'm living inside a fairytale remembered, a slightly dysfunctional blended-family fairytale, but none-the-less, a fairytale in which I'm the queen!  I invite you to join our journey. 

Truly, Cinderella 

A day in the life of...

  My friends and I share a joke that my family should have a reality t.v. show, and yet again today's occurrences proved to be another example fit for an episode on TLC. 
   After a great summer, I've gone back to work, teacher in-service, and when the alarm sounds at 6:00 a.m. my body goes into auto pilot:  bathroom, coffee, makeup, hair, pill, and clothes--in that order.  Daily, I take hormonal therapy, which is usually on my nightstand, but while Matt was out of town this week,  I'd placed the bottle on his nightstand.   So, I did what I always do and popped my pill, without bothering to look at the color or shape before placing it into my mouth.  After dressing and gathering up my bag, the room began to spin.  My initial thought was that the spinning was due to lack of dinner or breakfast, but after grabbing a breakfast bar the problem only worsened.  I knew that I couldn't drive, and I called my husband to take me to work.
    Once inside the car, my words began to slur and my sweet Matt helped me assess the problem.
    "Did you take anything this morning?"  he asked.
    "No, just my hormone pill."  I answered.
    "Where was the bottle?"
    "On your nightstand." 
     "Marsi, the only bottle on mine is my Ambien.  Did you take my Ambien?"
     "Oh my God!!  I think did."
     "Did you not notice it wasn't your pill?  Did you take a whole one?"
     "Yes, I took a whole one; I thought it was mine."
     "Holy shit!  I take a half when I need to sleep.  And it's the good stuff; the CR will knock a person out.  You're not going to work today."
     "I can make it.  I'm not teaching, so I can just sit."
     "I don't think it's a good idea, but call one of your friends out here.  You'll need help to walk into the building."
    I texted a fellow teacher to come out to the car, and after taking one glance at me she asked if I was drunk.  I attempted to stand-up and I fell against the passenger side door.
     "I caaan make ittt.  I'llll jus nap insi-de my chairrr." I slurred.
    Laughing, Katie said, "Nope.  You need to go home and sleep this one off.  I'll tell one of the principals what happened.
    "Okay."  I surrendered and requested McDonald's on the way home.  Matt protested on account of a conference call, but my munchies and persistent pleas won him over.  
    However, people don't eat when taking a sleep aid--they want to sleep.  And if there isn't a warning on the bottle there should be:  Don't eat after taking pill.  I ate half my sandwich but it later ended up on my bedroom floor....partially digested.  That too, my poor husband had to clean up.
    I have such wonderful caring people in my life.  Not only my husband, but also my friends.  Later in the morning Katie texted me from the school to check on me, and this is what I replied:
    Not s secret,  Yout kidding l! Procrdursl recr? Nubrs!  Crazy  
The English department got a good laugh decoding that one! What was that I said about kind, caring friends.  ;)   Just another day in the life...

Truly,
~Cinderella



   
   

Two Years!

       Yesterday, Matt and I celebrated our second anniversary in what some might consider a rather lackluster commemoration of the big day.  We, however, thought the day was perfect in all its quirkiness and practicality. 
       The day began the day before, on June 4th, with a phone call to the Overton Hotel to cancel our reservation.  Sweet Matt had booked a suite for us, but when he told me about the surprise I suggested that we cancel.  I reasoned we should save our money for our upcoming vacation with the children to Disney World, and instead of leaving for the night we could spend our special day with them.  Having no qualms with my decision, he happily canceled.  Later on in the day, just before bedtime, he said he needed to run to the store to grab something.  I knew that was code for "buy an anniversary card so that I have it for Marsi in the morning."
     Now some women might be offended by this last minute purchase, but I didn't mind because I hadn't bought him a card.  In fact, I went to the store with him!  So there we were, standing in the card aisle at United picking out the perfect card for one another.  Matt seemed more upset by the situation than I, saying that our apathetic action was an bad omen for things to come, but I disagreed.
     "Listen, we like to have original moments, don't we?  This is unique to us and we'll always remember this anniversary, above all others, the one where we stood side by side to pick out our cards for one another."  I explained, but he still seemed unconvinced.  I knew I must appeal to his practical side and remain excited.  
     "I found yours!  It's perfect!" I enthusiastically announced.
     With that, he selected the envelope to the one he was reading, placed the card inside, and returned my sentiment.
     "Let's exchange here, then we don't have to buy them!" I emphatically stated.
     "RH-EALLY?" he said, looking around to see if anyone was watching.  Though cautious, I knew he liked the idea of saving money.   When he was sure the coast was clear, we gave each other the card we had chosen.
     He had decided on card that beautifully described our relationship and I had chosen one about his fine qualities as a husband.
     After we read them I said, "Okay, now tell me what you would have written inside."   Matt thought for a moment before offering up the most encouraging, appreciative words that made my heart smile.  On my turn, I attempted a poetic rendition portraying my undying love, but poetry isn't birthed inside a supermarket; thus I turned to prose.  I described how he is the most giving and unselfish man, who possesses patience and kindness, and I thanked him for being such a strong and successful provider for our family.  I felt more love for him in that moment, than one in which I would have simply opened and read a card.  This was authentic, this was a first, and this was us.  We hugged, put the cards back, and hurried off to the bread aisle.

        And what did we do on the big day?   Matt worked but took a break to have brunch with me at IHOP.  Yes, IHOP.  It's what we wanted.  For dinner I made spaghetti, and we sipped Merlot.  The children ran screaming from the dining room when we stood to dance in the kitchen to our song,  "She's Everything" by Brad Paisley.  He kissed me when the song ended, and with that kiss our perfectly practical anniversary concluded.

Truly,
Cinderella

Fabric Canvas Wall Art

Wow!  What a rush!  Who knew that a fairytale would be so busy?  Without the seven dwarfs to help with chores, the servants to cook and clean, or king daddy's trust fund to ease one's labor duties, life is full of rewarding responsibilities.  Matt and I celebrated our one year anniversary in June, and my fairytale continues.  We experienced many changes since we met; Matt has moved to Lubbock (temporarily), we moved into a new home, and our children continue to grow and develop into the unique individuals that make them divine!

My time is quite limited now that I'm working in a completely new profession, but this Thanksgiving break gave me the respite I needed to jump start some creativity.  Aesthetic design within my home is vital to my zen, but my pocketbook is equally important.  This juxtaposition leads me to create with prudence.  One of my projects that I recently completed is a fabric-canvas wall art that optimizes the appearance of previously drab, boring wall.  This was super easy and super CHEAP to do!  Check it out:

1. I bought individual wood frame strips that snap together from Hobby Lobby in order to make my own canvas frame- much cheaper than covering an existing canvas.  I wanted three large frames 24" by 36" so I purchased six 24" pieces and six 36" pieces.

• $1.69 for a 24" strip
• $3.99 for a 36" strip
• 6 x $1.69= $10.14
• 6 x $3.99= $23. 94
• Total = 34.08

2. I purchased the fabric at Joanne's during a 30% off sale and spent around $25 (I threw away the receipt and don't remember exactly), and with a little guidance from an old friend (thanks Kelly Duriex) I found the perfect sixties floral print!

3. I snapped together the wood strips to make three frames. 

4. I cut the fabric around each frame, leaving about two inches extra on each side.

5. Finally, I used a staple gun to staple the the fabric to the backside of the frame.  

Voila`!  I have fantastic, colorful wall art from fabric specifically chosen to match my sitting room design.  And the crux is the entire thing cost less than $60!  These days, you can't buy one large piece of wall art for under $60, let alone three!

Greta's Parade

Today was the first day of my biking adventures! Of course, Greta (my bike) wasn't ready for the road until equipped with basket and bell, which I purchased this week, making it vintage fab for a sunny, Saturday morning!

The morning began when I met Natalie for a Fuzzy breakfast taco, complete with a Fuzzy driver.  After our breakfast, we hit the trail!  I was a bit nervous about riding on the main streets for the first time, so Natalie followed behind me in her Tahoe.  Can you imagine?  Natalie is coasting behind me with her hazards flashing, while I leisurely ride down Broadway Avenue!  

As we approach the corner of Broadway and Avenue Q, we see a horse parade!  I'm not kidding, either!  Today is the annual Cowboy Symposium festival, and a horse parade through downtown is part of the festivities!  We watched the cowboys, buggies and stagecoaches stride down the street.  Incredible.  

After watching for a few minutes, we decided to continue on towards the Downtown Art Market.  This event is once a month at the Tornado Gallery on Buddy Holly Ave and it's definitely one of the coolest events this city has!  It reminds me of the outdoor markets in Europe, where vendors bring all their different goods.  Flowers, vegetables, folk art,  jewelry, and much more are on display and for sale.  I went first to the Therapy booth, products made by my sweet friend Marci Gutheil and her sister, Val.  The booth is filled with wonderful creations like felt flower hair pens, floral satches, jewelry and dresses.  Across from Therapy, I found a children's clothing booth that had a bright red poodle skirt calling Madilyn's name.  Madi wears her black poodle skirt EVERYWHERE, so I thought I should encourage her collection. I saw many friends, old and new, and enjoyed visiting with them all.  Next, I purchased fresh garden flowers that looked mighty nice in my pretty, little wicker basket.  After all this fun, it was time to return home.  I loaded my basket, hopped on Greta, and rode through the red brick downtown streets toward home.

Ok, maybe not home, just Fuzzy's.  This first trip I parked my car at Fuzzy's and rode the bike downtown.  Natalie had to go on to work, so I made the trip back on my own and I was feeling confident about my new found hobby.  Until I see the parade.  ANOTHER parade!  This time it was some sort of Mexican parade, I think celebrating Mexican Independence.  Well, I start trying to figure out how I'm going to cross the street and get back over to Fuzzy's, when I see the low-rider boys.  Let me explain.

While at Fuzzy's Taco shop earlier in the morning, a group of Hispanic guys in a low rider pull up to the restaurant.  Natalie and I were sitting on the patio, and I guess we looked friendly, so they said hello.  They also watched our comedic show in the parking lot, as I clumsily learned to steer my bike, as Nat laughed hysterically.  So, what are the odds these same guys are in the parade and happen to be right in front of me as I come to the parade route?  Likely, because they were, and they asked me to join the parade!  

"Get in front of us!  Come on, just do it!  Get in front of us!" They shouted. 

"I can't!" I replied, but quickly decided it was the only way to get back over to my car.  I thought for a moment and I did what any sensible person would do.  

                               I joined the Mexican parade.

What a morning!  What a beautiful morning; the sun shining on my face, the wind blowing through my hair (what's left of it) and candy falling into my basket as I rode in a parade.  This I know: Greta and I are going to be great friends.

~Truly, Cinderella

Simplicity

SIMPLIFY: verb.  Make (something) easier to do or understand

After my stint in Europe, I came to the realization that my life, like most Americans, is entirely too complex.  It begins with the Joneses.  We are all so busy working: to make more money: to buy more stuff: so that when we drive our new cars, and park in our large custom designed homes,  and sleep in our king size foam mattresses we can feel good about ourselves and our lives.  The same applies to our children. We have them involved in numerous activities each semester, not usually giving them the chance to master one, but hoping they try everything so they will be the ultimate "best at everything, well-rounded" individual.  As mothers we drive big SUV's just in case we might take the entire soccer team for ice cream after practice.  Sure, it comes in handy in such instances, but be honest: how often does this really happen?  We are using fuel unnecessarily, and unhealthily for the sake of what?  Convenience?   Or dare I say it.... Pride?  Especially in my neck of the woods, or shall I say, flatlands.  West Texas is king of BIG.  We like our vehicles, our homes, our serving sizes, and even our hair-big!  It's in our blood.  Maybe it's because we have the space to do it.  Or maybe it's leftover from the frontier mentality: settle, conquer, and tame the land- in large proportions.  

I think we've lost sight of what's important, and what truly brings success.  And what about our universities?  Think about college football.  The bigger the stadium, the better the recruits.  And better recruits means more attendance at games, earning more money for the University.  But where does all this money go? Is it funded back into professor's salaries, or better classrooms?   Is our goal to truly nurture and educate the mind, body and spirit?  Or is it to build bigger stadiums?  As one professor once told me,  having a liberal arts degree in today's America, just means that you have learned a little about all disciplines in order to conduct a conversation at a cocktail party.  Is this really what we want of our future?  Exhausted, over-worked, over-weight individuals who know nothing of true realities, but enough of something to converse at a cocktail party?

Ok, ok, I haven't gone completely leftist rogue, but I do see the world much differently.  And I plan to change my life for the simple.  I began this transformation in Stockholm.  The first step for me, was the haircut.  Any woman can attest a change in life results in a change of hairstyle.  I chopped mine off, almost pixie style, and I absolutely love it!  I must admit, I was a bit nervous cutting off a 12 inch ponytail, but I have no regrets.  It takes all of 10 minutes to style my classic, chic hair, which leaves time to do more important things.

My second step in achieving simplicity is to buy a bike.  I know it will be difficult to commute on a bike in my area, but there are places I can ride instead of drive.  Starbucks, the grocery store, the drugstore, a best friend's home, and the park are all in biking distance.  Therefore I save fuel, and get much needed exercise.  

My new bike!  

Another change for the better:  my youngest daughter has chosen to attend the school a block from our home.  She is very excited to walk to school daily, as am I.  We will save gas, and enjoy our leisurely walks together every morning.  Dinnertime has always been important to our family, so instead of running all over town in the evenings, we are choosing to cook our family dinner's at home.  We spend quality time together, while learning to make some amazing cuisine. 

I'm looking forward to the exciting school year in front of us, and now I must tend to the chore of downsizing.  I will rid my garage of stuff!  Simplistic living, fairy-tale style!

Truly,

Cinderella