"i" versus "I" between me and Famous

It's come to my attention that I tend to really get into my blog when my husband is out of town. And then 3 things happen... I drink wine, smoke cigs, and start thinking... which then leads me to believe that I have intelligent things to say that everyone wants to hear. (and it takes me 3 times as long to write because I usually use "i" instead of "I" and I delete and reverse because if I become a famous blogger, I don't want to be criticized for lack of grammar and such... exhausting)

The purpose of tonights blog has nothing to do with recipes or baby things or DIY crafts that are "so what I'll do this weekend" like all the other blogs are about that have the thousands of followers (which I'm not jealous about at all, but it would really make me feel so much better about myself if I did, but I love My Seven, so seriously, I don't care, I mean, whatever).

On a side note, does anyone hate smocking on little boys as much as I do??! dear God! give them a chance at being straight! put a small man child in smocking and you might as well give him a plush penis toy too! girls fine.. call me stereotypical, but come on. (note to YOU... PacSun for my kids when I get pregnant) If future baby Palmer is a girl, bring on the watermelon/4th of July flag/cupcake smock dress... if I have a boy, don't even think about it. (might as well live in Germany in the 20's and give him knee high white socks,white patent leather shoes, and a jumper...that is the only way I would accept smocking...and your time has passed. let it go...)

soo... what were we talking about? who knows... I could look back but that would ruin the intriguing convo we are having now.

well, look at me... writing and not paying attention to my new puppies... so my wear-resistant outdoor rug is now half unraveled because mommy wasn't paying attention and "wear-resistant" doesn't refer to puppies. dammit. they did a damn good job of unraveling it and now I could scrutinize it and make my own mat. but that would be a new DIY post...

In Memoriam... Reposted, - Ish...

so everyone always does these "guest posts", and, being the "experienced blogger" I am, I just don't have a clue what they are talking about... like, your blog is sooo important, but you'll be out of town so you have to have someone make up for your lost days. (well, these people do have thousands of followers, and I have 7, but I still think it's silly... I'm following your blog, not a strangers...

so, in honor of that, I'm posting a guest blog. from myself. from circa 2008 or something. I got a lot of positive feedback and thought, "what the hell, let's repost!"

so here is a little diddy of something I wrote when my trusty manual shift, candy apple red, 1997 eclipse broke down and officiallly died. at least she knew I couldn't handle it and she waited until the one time my dad decided to take it in for an oil change and she flat out quit on the feeder road of the 114w, in Southlake... please, love and remember her as I did..

well, shoot. the damn thing won't "copy" and "paste". This is why I only have 7 followers... b/c i can't do anything techni-logically (yes, two words) right.

ok, now i've set the mood and I hate to delete words I've already written soo... hold and you'll get the car's obit soon. :) love you, My Seven.

Hello?! Is She Here?!

Things I've Learned In the Last Month Since I Haven't Blogged:

Im the worst blogger ever... apparently, to keep a following, you must keep blogging. I still love and appreciate my 7 followers. thank you for your support.

If your new puppy has something in his mouth, don't smell it. Because he'll jump on you at the exact time you are smelling and you'll eat it. And only THEN will you realize he eats poop. And now you eat it too. Second hand poop, nonetheless.

Definitely get a puppy before a baby. I've learned mountains about my new husbands ability to take care of things... aka he doesn't, and it's all up to you until you create a "routine" (thank you little sister Brooke) and then he'll catch on. (God willing...)

Thinking about working out does not make you lose weight you gained since your wedding. No matter how hard you try... weight does not "fall off" and whoever came up with that term can suck it.

Boobs do get you free drinks. (duh, i just wanted to say boobs)

If you have a best friend in another time zone, it's perfect if she doesn't work, because she can talk whenever you can. If said friend gets a job, communication fails and then it's very inconvenient because now you have to work around both schedules.

I am jealous of my single friends... only b/c a random weekend away comes up and I can't jump on the bandwagon b/c i have to "check" with my husband. I hated that when I was single with married friends. But I get it now... I don't like it, but I get it.

Sex can be "wham bam" or "sexy... yeah" and it's still super great either way. (mom, don't tell dad I said that... if he asks, I've never done it and my future babies are related to Jesus b/c I've "never seen a penis"... im serious.)

People who weigh less than 120 lbs really piss me off. Not b/c I'm J, but b/c they probably think I'm J and im more grossed out than anything.

ok guys, I think I'm back. between moving, puppies, actually making it one year married without missing my sister and her shoe sharing too much, I think I can fit yall back into my schedule.

xoxo Casey :)

My New Babies

After less than a year of marriage, Steven and I are going to be parents!!! Now, stop assuming I'm pregnant or we are having a man child. Because we're not... we're having puppies! That's right, two puppies! And as fate has it, they are being dropped off at our new house... the same day our furniture is being dropped off at our house. Yes, we are moving into a new house too! And it's all happening this Saturday. 4 days. Have we packed? no. Have we bought puppy supplies? yes.

Augusta Georgia Palmer

Arnold Palmer

I feel the need to overwhelm the internet and my friends, with pictures of my babies. So here are my babies, Arnold and Augusta Georgia, and the necessities we have purchased.

My life is about to change in a major way.

You know it's a bad day when...

The stretchy pants you're wearing are a little too snug so you go put on your husbands boxers which are a much better fit.

As of now, I am officially Ana*.

*Ana = Anorexic (thanks to CL for teaching me lingo such as this... also included is Appy = Appetizer which my husband now uses frequently. that's kind of weird)

Funny that immediately after becoming anorexic, I mention Appys... I think I'll only be Ana until breakfast tomorrow, but it's a good start, right?

Moving Day?! We Totally Forgot

Have you ever moved? I've moved plenty of times... But this time is different. I might be a little over the top excited, but you need to understand something. We are currently living on the 3rd floor of an apartment, no elevator. read: no elevator. I have received many blood blisters on my arms from carrying the plastic bagged groceries all in one trip because I refuse to make multiple trips. I'll leave eggs in the car before I make a second trip. Call me lazy, but I prefer to think of myself as efficient. (and maybe a little lazy). I still have 10 yards of fabric in my front seat because I really can't be bothered to take it upstairs, just to bring it back down again for my reupholstering! Obviously!

So here we are. We are moving. Next Saturday. It's Thursday night. We have plenty of boxes to move, but the one problem is, they are empty. I keep thinking that I'll wake up in the morning and it'll be done. (I believed a little too much of Bewitched and I Dream of Jeanie. Both are still on TV, and yes, I still try to twitch my nose and wiggle my belly. Let's just say you don't want to be around when I'm doing that...not attractive).

So what do I do? Do I actually have to pack the stuff myself? You can't blame me for this mentality. When I moved to LA... bought all new stuff... moved back home, I sold it all. When I moved to the apartment with Steven, my parents (SOO THANKFUL) moved me in while I was on my honeymoon. So technically, I've really never moved if you think about it. So how am I supposed to know what to do?

I'll tell you what I'll do. Tomorrow, I'll take the first step. I'll go buy some tape. And some boxed wine. That'll get me going.

My Mustache, and I'm No Tranny

As ladies, we all have one.

That little round magnifying mirror, back lit by an adjustable light so we can obsess and dissect all of those flaws and imperfections that shouldn't be there, but tend to only be seen in this mirror of ours. "Picking" as my little sister Lisa calls it. But, have you ever looked into that mirror and... God forbid... said to yourself,

"SH*T! I have a mustache!!!!"

well, this recently happened to me (about 10 years ago) and I want to share with you the secret that my mother introduced me to. No bleaching, no waxing... just a little healthy, made for your face, razor.

Christi Harris.

Works like a charm.

(they also work for those little whiskers that pop up, unwanted and 3" long, on you chin... I don't have those, I've just heard)

Language of Mothers

The picture you see below is what

mothers call a Pack 'n Play, as I have recently learned.

The picture you now see below is what I THOUGHT was a Pack 'n Play.

(I mean, he's all packed up and he looks ready to play soooo....)

You can see there is a major difference in the actuality of the piece as opposed to what my mind imagined it to be. I bring this up because The Language of Baby is something that is becoming more prominent in my life whether I am prepared for it or not. My friends and my sister are all mothers now so with that comes the terms "boppy", "binky", "lovey", "dougie", and many more. (no offense, but I think a vocally impaired individual must have been the first mother if these are the terms we are so prevalently using today)

How am I supposed to have conversations about your child when you use words I don't know? If my sister keeps using words I can't understand, I'm going to start using words she can't understand, such as: quiet, alone time, restful, martini, loud sex whenever and wherever (well, that's a phrase, but you get it), long hair, dinner reservations after 8pm, and so on...

Why don't we just call it a pacifier, a blanket, or a portable crib, as these things so obviously are? I'll tell you why... it's so the mothers of the world can have this secret little club with other mothers and they can laugh at the misfortune of us breeders, who haven't bred yet. Well, jokes on you, ladies... because I can still close down the bar, watch a lifetime movie marathon all weekend with no interruptions, and sleep until whenever I feel like it. Don't get me wrong, I'll be joining your little club one day (who wouldn't want me to reproduce?!) so I'll be right smack in the middle of it, but until then, be gentle and patient with us non-moms. I only act annoyed because I'm not in this club and I love to be in clubs. (I also don't wait in line or pay to get into places)

So, again, be mindful with your high pitched squeals of Baby Language. And yes, because I know you are wondering, I am available for baby sitting contrary to what you may believe. Although I tend to use more grown up words with the children, because honestly, they really have no idea what we are saying. And thank God for that.

The Favorite Child Syndrome

(actual family photo... we call it "smile with your eyes"... my mom calls it "the professional photo you couldn't follow directions for")

I love my mom. We are so blessed to have a family that not only just gets along with one another, but we really, actually, enjoy being with each other. My sisters are closer to me than any friend of mine and my parents are, (don't let their heads blow up) but they are actually cool. Case in point, I took my mom to the Country Club tonight and she definitely can hang. (she actually raised me how to hang at the club, thanks to Pink Lemonade Manners Class and private manners classes from Madame Butterfly. I know that CL, Sal, and B are as ever thankful as myself.) My mom says that thanks to her, we could eat a dinner at the white house and fit right in. ( I don't know about you, but I'd rather eat dinner at G Dub's Ranch than at the white house with that Obama). anywho....

So we were chatting about something or another and my mom says, well, your father and I never had favorites, did we? hmmm... I blurted out my middle sisters name and immediately regretted it. She looked genuinely confused and perplexed. Which leads me to believe, that maybe, just maybe, she didn't have a favorite.(well, conciously she didn't) No hurt feelings, no negative feelings on my part, but lets be honest... We all have people we introduce, as follows, which shows the importance of their life to yours:
1) This is ____, my best friend.
2) This is my good friend, ____.
3) This is my friend, ___.
4) This is _____, have you met her?
5) This is ____. We work together.
or the infamous,
6) You introduce the date you came with b/c, for the life of you, you cannot remember the person you are introducing them to, even though they've asked you about your wedding, your sisters, your parents, and how excited you are about moving into your new house. I still have no idea who you are.
or my favorite
7) Hi. Have you met my sister, Lisa? She's single and loves to make out. (heheheh Lolita HATES when I do that, but it's just so funny, I can't help it!)

This gets me thinking, you obviously get along with some people better than others. So why wouldn't parents have the same dilemna? My mom says that she loves that we are all so different and we all have amazing relationships. (very good parent answer) All true things. I explained to her that I think Brooke is more of... what is that word??? oh yeah, a grown up adult. My mom is a grown up adult so why wouldn't they get along perfectly? People tend to think I'm still 24- 25 (which I adore) and my youngest sister pointed out, "Yeah, that's because you act like it Casey." Thanks, Lis, Thanks.

I digress. I don't have kids, but I will someday. How do you not have a favorite? I don't want to, but isn't it inevitable? Maybe it's just "today this one's being a sh*t so obviously I am preferring the other right now".? Or "thank goodness we raised one "right" that got off the payroll before 30. (I barely missed the cut-off by a week... what was I THINKING scheduling my wedding a week after my 30th birthday!?) what happened to self sufficiency?". Or it could be the old "This one gave me a grandchild first. When will the others catch up?" :) I kid, I kid (kind of).

Anyways, there are those crazies who have bred crazies and of course they have favorites. But I truly believe my parents love all three of us girls the same. At times, I drive my mom so crazy so she has to talk to the others about it and vice versa. But when it comes down to it, let's just say they are lucky to have any of us at all, and we couldn't have been given better parents ourselves. God is Good.

PS: MOM - IM TAKING OFF FRIDAY TO FINISH MY DAMN THANK YOU NOTES. I APPRECIATE YOUR ANNOYING PERSISTANCE. :)

Etiquette of the Public Throne

I'm going to talk about public bathroom courtesy, and the lack thereof, in my office building. This might be awkward, but I feel strongly that these need to be addressed.

1) There are 15 stalls in the bathroom. I'm the only one in there and you walk in. Don't go in the stall next to me. There are 12 other available seats that are not my neighbor. Go in those. Are you worried you might run out of TP and you think I'm going to hand some to you under the stall?! I'm not.
2) The stall is not a place for you to hold your cell phone conversations. And yes,I will keep flushing my toilet until you shut your mouth or leave. Nobody likes to hear your conversations about how your child is a menace, while they are trying to do their business.
3) Flush the toilet. Do I really need to say this?
4) Wash your hands! Even if you don't normally, just pretend to while I'm standing there washing mine. I know who you are and you are now The Person Who Doesn't Wash Her Hands.
5) This is a public bathroom... if I'm at the mirror, put your tweezers away and stop plucking your cheek hair. (yes, there was a cheek hair situation)
6) I know it's a bathroom, but if you have to do #2, don't if I'm in there. It makes me very uncomfortable and then I end up trying to escape quickly and somehow I end up at the counter with you. AWKWARD. (although my friend CL introduced me to a book called Everybody Poops, I don't need to hear you doing it)
7) I don't know you, I've never seen you before, and now is not the time to start a conversation with me, as we walk into the bathroom together. And yes, it's very awkward that you are chatting with me whilst in the stall next to me. No one needs to hear my voice while I'm in a public bathroom. And I don't want to hear yours.
8) If you see someone walking out of the bathroom with toilet paper stuck to their foot, don't tell them. It's kind of funny.
9) If you are going to text or play games on your phone while in the stall, put the phone on silent. I don't want to know that you are playing angry birds... that lets me know you are going to be in there for awhile and I don't need to know that.
10) If the lock on the door isn't working, don't use that stall. Because then I'll walk in on you, and that's the worst of all.

Sexy Fabric Turns Me On

Does furniture turn you on? Does an exotic textile exorbitantly priced, excite you inappropriately? Have you found yourself touching the hand of a fabric in intimate ways? My name is Casey, and I think furniture/fabric is orgasmic too. Seriously, I get so excited about being in a warehouse full of bolts of fabric that I can't help but to imagine the furniture or drapery that these delicious pieces of fabric were made for. Creating a story with textures of vibrant colors, graceful curves of wood on the leg of a furniture, or molded plastic made for beauty and comfort of a chair are some of the things I love most!

With that said, I am going to show you the beginnings of my project! It started with the move... I immediately decided purple and black would tell the story of my fancy dining room. I have my mimi's dining furniture so it's vintage, but has gotten old. Vintage and old are completely different terms, just so you know. Vintage means something is of "lasting interest and importance." Old refers to "decrepit or senile". So as different as these meanings are, they really can compliment and describe something in such exactness that the visualization process becomes a little easier... let me help you a little, if not confuse you more.

The thing with "old" furniture is that you have to see the potential. There is sooo much potential. People put old things on the side of the road, to die the death of furniture, really believing it's "decrepit" and useless. And it can be...but, in reality, all this special piece needs is a loving home and someone with a little creativity... or a someone who has a friend with a little creativity. Example: I am going to take my mimi's chairs, table, and china cabinet that, at one point in time, was "antique white". Now, I consider the color a tinkle yellow, if you will. My sister's dog Stoli could do a little diddy next to the table and chairs, and you'd probably just think the paint was melting off.(that's a professional design color, tinkle yellow, fyi.) The thing is, the furniture looks old, but it's really vintage. I'll show you once I'm done. Up top I've posted the basic palette and design inspiration for my new dining room. I've painted the chairs a shiny, shiny lacquered black and am upholstering the purple crocodile skin on it... talk about
SEX-Y furniture. I'll definitely show you when I'm done. I have also decided, to save money, I will also be upholstering the seats myself. (That should be a disaster in it's own.)

In conclusion, I just purchased 10 yards of this sexy, sexy purple croc fabric and all I want to do is wrap it around my naked body and roll down a sloping hill in a lush green meadow painted with the sun's rays, while little dancing gnomes cheer me on... Don't judge me... you know you want to roll around with me, too.

From Teacher to Designer

I'm thinking that all of that money that my parents spent on "testing for my future" really paid off. I was starting out as a freshman in college as a future teacher, when, in actuality, I was going for my M R S Degree. (husband hunting at my small baptist college is the number one major of young sorority girls) My parents must have known me better than I thought because half way through my first semester, my parents had me do all of the expensive and fancy testing just to see what I should be when I grew up! I thought it was ridiculous! How is some multiple choice test and visual awareness testing over 3 days going to determine my future?! well, it did. Sometimes parents are always right.

My top three "futures" included Photography, Fashion Design, and Interior Design. I said no to Photography because, in all honesty, I like being in front of the camera and not behind it. I said no to Fashion because I assumed I would have to sew and one time my grammy had me sew a teddy bear so I could learn the basics, and let's just say it was the saddest hot pink bear you'd ever seen.

So that left Interior Design. I knew nothing of that. I had no idea what it was. I figured, what the heck?! It sounded cool enough. I met with a high end architect that my dad knows and his first question was "Are you more interested in Commercial Design or Residential Design?" My response was "I don't mean to sound stupid, but I honestly don't know what those words mean." (looking back, I'm so embarrassed).

And so began my journey through design. I give you this background because I will be talking a lot about what I'll be doing this summer. Steven and I are moving into a house (YAY!!!) and I LOVE LOVE LOVE design. Especially when I get to be the boss and pick out things because I really have great taste. :) Vintage Modern is my "thang". Furniture design, paint coordination, color theme, color theory, etc... I love it all and mostly I love that people tell me how amazing I am just by picking out a certain palette of textiles. (duh, i know, but I still like to hear it!)

And so the journey of designing House of Palmer begins. I welcome you along so that, you too, may benefit from my ideas and creativity, and I might benefit from your praise of my awesomeness.

New Blog Goals

ok, ok, Im really trying with this blog thing. I think I have this expectation that unless it's a really good story, I can't share. Not the case. Im going to really try and just write when I can because, I know, you are just dying to know what's going on in my crazy fun (aka boring married) life. Its true. Once you are married, people don't really care about what you are doing... b/c who gives an F about what I made for dinner, or what sweet thing my husband said or what couples plans we have this weekend. I'll tell you who... no one. Except me. and I love it!!!! I love cooking now and I love my new kebob sticks (slanted not, round so the food falls off) and I love the hairy man I spend the night with every night.

I know, I know... I used to love the thrill of "will that guy buy me a drink" or "too bad that hot guy is such a bad kisser" or "oh my gosh, she is NOT going home with him!" kind of things. Past Casey would call New Casey "super boring, lifeless, boring, not fun to hang with, and more boring". Well, too bad Past Casey. New Casey is the boss of this life and she loves it! (ps, i hate when people use 3rd person on themselves, but it was a little necessary). So, my new goal (another PS, im still smoke free with a few cheats, but its the entire goal that counts) is that im going to be consistant in my writing whether it's talking about my new house im moving into, my new puppies that I CANNOT WAIT to get (2 yorkies, Arnold and Augusta, i have collars and accessories picked out) or what new awesome dish I found at Bed Bath and Beyond (the Butter Buddy!!!).

So hopefully there will be a little bit of something for all 2 of my current followers. Another goal... build up my followers b/c it makes me believe im interesting and important...(although i've read some blogs just to make fun of... you know what im talking about Carol, Sally, Kate, and Liz) and I hope not to be one of those :)

And She's Back...

Sooo... last blog post was from February of 2010... it's now end of June 2011... I'd actually forgotten about my blog and then my sister mentioned it to me and here I am again. Lucky You. Recap of the last year, and then some:
Im now married (yay!)
My sister had a baby! (Tripp is perfect)
I've turned 30 (uneventful)
I've been rearended twice (do i have target on my bumper?!)
My other sister found a man i actually love (it's about time)
and.... as of 2 days ago... i've quit smoking. ( tears )

So much can happen in just one year and seriously, so much has.

And here we go again. I have so many stories, so much tell and lets be honest, facebook putting character limits on my posts, just isn't cutting it.

Between the prostitute showing me her black boobs while i was writing my matron of honor speech and the delicious lettuce wraps i convinced my husband i just "made up on a whim",(his response was "these are so good, you'll definitely be getting some sex tonight"), i've decided to reopen my blog to shine a little light into this world. Because, let's be honest, we all need a little Casey to make our lives a little less serious.