So you’ve entered the Etsy Giveaway in honor of my St. Baldrick’s shave event on September 14th, but you’re just not sure of what to buy? And you need my help? OF COURSE! I’m nothing if not helpful… Here are some options in green, in honor of St. Baldrick’s! Read More
It’s giveaway time again! Because everybody loves prizes, and in honor of my St. Baldrick’s event I’m offering up an Etsy gift card worth $25!
Everybody, together now….WOOOOOOOOOO!!!!
Alyssa, why are you doing this?
Because you’re pretty. And to help spread the word about my shave event!
So I have to donate to enter?
Nope! As grateful as I am for every single dollar donated in the effort to fight childhood cancer, there is no purchase necessary and donating will not increase your chances.
Now whether it increases your karmic chances and might one day allow you to lead a more enlightened life and possibly get to make out with Taye Diggs as a reward from the Universe?
Maybe. I really can’t say. But do you really want to chance it?
I am so proud to announce that the lovely and amazing Missy Lisa, founder of Ruby Revue, has donated a raffle prize for my St. Baldrick’s shave event! (Please note, this is a post about a burlesque show so consider all links NSFW and do not click if mostly bare breasts and booties will get you fired.)
Because nothing is truly real until you put it on Facebook**, Kind of a Mess finally has a Facebook page!! Something I’ve been meaning to do for a while, but just haven’t spent the time figuring it out. And I’ve barely spent the time now, so don’t go there looking for something fancy. It’s still me, after all….
Now I have a place to post fun things for y’all in-between those LOOONG stretches me not posting, and you have a place to yell at me about why I have no posted in a while. And I also have a place to post fun things like GIVEAWAYS, one of which is live right now! (Details in the next post.) So head on over to Facebook, “Like” my page and check out the newest in a line of “online activities that will make me feel guilty for not utilizing very often”!!
** Yep, even your kid; not real until you put it on Facebook. Look, don’t get mad at me, I don’t make the rules…
Oh, moppets, things have been crazy! While you were sitting by your computers, and waiting with bated breath for my next post, Jethro and I have been in the process of buying a house! It’s been whirlwind as this is a seller’s market, which is real estate code for “Suck it, you will buy house for much more than its worth and you will LIKE IT.”
But we have found a lovely home being sold by a buyer with integrity who is fixing the minor safety issues with no complaints, rather than telling us that the crack in the wall is a Doctor Who homage. By September 6th, Jethro and I will be homeowners! Yay!! And all the repairs in the house will have to be done by and paid for by us! Boo! Read More
When I was about nine, my neighbors got stationed in Japan and rented out their house, as military families often do. I was devastated, as their little boy and girl were like my siblings and taught me how to scream, “MOM!! They are touching my stuff,” with all the righteous indignation of an older sister. (Seriously. They would not leave my Barbies ALONE.) However, this pain was eased a few months later when my friend Tal’s family moved in next door.
I first met Tal when she was locked out of her house after school one day and was sitting outside. Not being a latch-key kid, I was fascinated—she got to stay at home all BY HERSELF? She seemed super mature, so of course I invited her over to come play. She played Barbies like a pro, read as many books as I did and owned an eight foot tall book shelf covered in the most My Little Ponies I’d ever seen in my life. Plus, she had a younger brother and sister we could boss around. We became fast friends. Read More
I haven’t posted in a bit because I’ve needed to do this post. And I’ve worked on it for a couple weeks, but then kept hemming and hawing and dithering and yoyo-ing and all kinds of other words that mean, “Alyssa is a big giant wiener.”
But, a wiener I am no longer.
(Except when it comes to spiders. Eff those bastards.)
Not in the sense that I need one to get me through the day, but I need a signature drink. A go-to drink that I order when I go to the bar, or a brand that I keep stocked in my house for a nice nightcap.
I need a drink.
My early drinking days were filled with plastic jugs of cheap vodka from the bottom shelf, bottles of Coke emptied of half its contents and refilled with booze and bags of Franzia that we milked for its Chillable Red contents. Seriously, I drank so much Whaler’s Vanilla Rum and Coke that when Vanilla flavored Coke came out, I couldn’t drink it in public without looking around for the cops. Read More
Jethro and I have been trying our best to make sure that Tater is not inundated with too many noisy, electronic toys. Partially because we know that non-directed play is important for achieving developmental milestones, and partially because we don’t want to hear that sh*t. (Give me the side-eye all you want, y’all; you haven’t experienced true horror until you have heard Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star over and over again for 30 minutes. It starts to wear on your SOUL, man…)
Then again, when he does play with his developmentally appropriate toys, he just uses them to make more noise. Know what one of his favorite pastimes is? Taking the dumbbell rattle that the lovely Liz of happysighs gave him, and then slamming it repeatedly into his Little Tikes Tap-a-Tune Piano. Oh, the lovely cacophony of rattle and discordant C, E and G coupled with bone-shattering sounds of hard plastic on plastic, just loud enough to rattle y0ur teeth. I’d stop him, but he’s just so dang happy when he’s making Mommy’s head hurt.
The Devil. Read More
Oi, that was a long hiatus, huh? Unintentional too; I’ve been so bogged down in baby and work and life and oh, my God, did you see the finale of Doctor Who? I mean, how can I blog without knowing who the Hurt Doctor is?!?
Sorry. My geek is showing. (But seriously, we should talk about this 12th Doctor business…)
I’m still not back full time, but I’m trying. My little itty bitty has become a big o’ terror who is almost but not quite walking, calls everything “Dada” and is constantly trying to hurl himself off of high objects. His favorite game? “Let’s bang something on something else so hard that I flinch, but keep banging away. Bonus points if if one of the objects is glass.”
This is normally the part where someone would say, “He’s all boy,” but I think he might be part demon. He sure is pretty, though. Read More