Slutty Halloween Costumes?

Halloween 2010

For the past several years, I have rocked various costumes that have ranged from clever to historical to literary to funny, etc.  I have not done the skanky halloween costume, except for a brief foray into short-skirted cowgirl-dom 2 years ago, and that wasn't actually slutterific.

Don't you just love a big pile of drunk girls on Halloween?

This year, however, Alex and I are going to St. Louis to see Mates of State play a Halloween show, and Alex has a brilliant idea for a costume-- The General from the insurance ads!

For the best insurance rates online, go to the general and save some time!

At a loss, and with no way of topping my infamous Vanna White costume, I decided to slut it up a bit this year.

My ploy actually worked, and I don't think I bought myself a drink the entire night.  I'm a genius.

After much debate, I finally settled on a pin-up version of a sailor.  And today, my costume finally came in the mail.  And it. Is. So.  Soooooo. Cute!  Here's the model's photo.  I'm gonna need to get a push-up bra for this thing, or become the Queen ala Chicken Cutlets, but other than that-- this thing fits like a glove!  I can't wait to wear it!

Well, hellloooooo Sailor!

Queen ala Chicken

So, moving in with Alex has been slightly more stressful than I might have hoped.  He griped about having to hang my earring rack and the giant antique mirror in the bedroom and about how much stuff I brought to his house and how much of his house I changed, etc etc etc.  And I of course felt all stressed out about how much work I was doing and how much change was taking place for me.  Anyway, the house is still in transition (read: a mess.) and I am swamped with homework since I didn't do any studying this weekend, but I decided not to let that bother me.  And so, this evening I conquered something new that has always (ALWAYS.) freaked me out.  I cooked raw meat.

Now, this may sound silly, but keep in mind that I have basically been a vegetarian for the last ten years, except for the occasional Arby's Roast Beef Sandwich, which is my own weird personal weakness.  And since I am only 25 years old, that means I stopped eating meat at age 15.  Don't get me wrong- I can cook.  I make tons of different vegetarian meals using a variety of fake meats.  I make an amazing cajun shrimp pasta with red peppers and mushrooms that just about catalyze your body into a food coma.  And I have even done a shredded chicken fajita for Alex and Isaac every once in a while, but that chicken came in a can.  And I didn't have to touch it. Tonight, wonder of wonders, miracle of miracles, I made Feta and Pesto Stuffed Chicken Breasts.  As in, I trimmed off the sticky white fat, cut and enlarged the small pocket for the stuffing, sutured the giant chasm with a toothpick and then cooked the four stuffed breasts in a little olive oil on the stove top.  Impressed?  You should be.

** Not my actual chicken breast.  Picture mine with green beans and angel hair parmesan on the side.  Yum!

In case this sounds like an amazing meal, and you are salivating like one of Pavlov's dogs just reading this, allow me to share this delightful recipe with you.  Mix 1/2 cup reduced fat feta cheese crumbles with 2 TBLS of pesto and pepper to taste (about 1/4  tsp.).  Set this mixture aside for the stuffing.  Now take your chicken breasts.  (You should have purchased 4 5oz. breasts.  However, if you're like me, you don't always read the recipes very closely and so you just buy the first 4 pack of chicken breasts you see, which happens to be much larger than 5 oz. These will work, you just have to cook them longer and be prepared for a very breasty meal.)  Trim any big chunks of fat off with a sharp knife.  Those buggers are slippery and sticky, so be careful.  Then cut into the side of the breast (the thickest side) but don't cut all the way through.  You just want a pocket to hold your feta-and-pesto-goodness.  Enlarge the hole by cutting back and forth or using your fingers if you prefer.  Stuff the breast with approx. 2 TBLS of the stuffing mixture.  Now for the craftiness of it all-- using a toothpick, suture that baby closed like you were basting a quilt.  Top them with a sprinkling of pepper.  Heat a TBLS (or so) of olive oil in a large nonstick pan on medium heat.  Cook the breasts until browned and cooked through, generally 7 minutes.  If you got the big breasts, then for goodness cook them longer!  There should be NO pink when you cut the meat open. Finally, sprinkle fresh basil leaves over the top of the chicken and serve.

I served it with frozen green beans and Pastaroni Parmesan Angelhair.  We had oreos dipped in milk for dessert and then took a long walk down to see the houses that have already been decorated for Halloween.  Are people decorating their yards up where you live?  My favorite so far is a giant pair of Wicked Witch of the West legs with the ruby slippers on them peeking out from under a house.  Now we have all retired to do homework.  I can hear Alex quizzing Isaac on the study guide for his science test tomorrow in the family room.  I'm in the office/study that still has some boxes of school supplies strewn across the floor, staring at my open Educational Psych textbook, and feeling lucky.

Moving in with Boys!

This weekend was a huge first for me-- I officially moved into Alex's house!  As in, I took all of my clothes, my nightstand, my giant board of earrings, my sewing machine, my computer, ALL of my books, my groceries, and of course, my heart, over to Alex's house.  And now I call that house with the yellow door and the bull horns on the TV, "Home".   Our styles are such a funny juxtaposition, but they seem to really be coming together in a complimentary and comfortable way.


On Friday night, I went to Canvas and Cocktails, which is this fabulous new class where you BYOB and create a painting inspired by a certain artist in 2.5 hours every Friday night.  I love it, and as someone who is aware of her lack of major painting talent, I have decided that I am a genius.  So far, we've done Van Gogh and Wayne Thiebaud, who does lots of yummy looking cupcakes and pies and such (and whom you would probably LOVE, Anna).  For the Thiebaud class, we even got to use medium, and being a medium virgin, I was totally enthralled by the process and the end product!  Anyway,  after I showed off my mad skills with Missy, John and Nicole, we all met up with Alex downtown for drinks, which of course ended up with me drinking until 1am or so and then teetering home for one of my last nights in the downtown duplex.  The next morning, I should've been sleeping until noon, but instead I woke up at 6am from excitement!  I went to McDonald's and got a breakfast sandwich, which I haven't done in YEARS, and of course, a diet coke, and then I went to pick up my boss's ancient golden retriever, Truman, for dogsitting duty.  We went home, he ate some peanut butter with pills hidden in it, and I started packing everything in sight.  Around 10am, I finally woke Alex up.  We moved tons of stuff (with my Dad's help) and then I spent the rest of the afternoon unpacking at his house.  Then I went home, did some homework and promptly fell asleep at 8:30pm.  I'm a party animal.

The next day, I did most of it all over again, except that I slept in until 7:45 am this time.  The house is really starting to come together and I'm excited about all of the stuff Alex and I have managed to give to Salvation Army, too.  Once again, I wish I had an iPhone or some other intelligent piece of versatile electronics so that I could've taken some pics and easily posted them on here.  But I  don't, so I didn't because I couldn't.  I guess I'll have to do a big unveil next week or something when everything is actually in its rightful place.  Until then, please know that I am steadily toiling away at the endless task of organizing a house into a home for Alex, Isaac, and I.

Edward's Place 2011.

I was fortunate enough to be invited back to Springfield, IL for the Edwards Place Fine Art Fair this year, and let me tell you, it was a blast.  It's been a week and a half since I returned to Milwaukee, and I finally got around to putting all my pics on my computer.  Unfortunately, my extreme narcissism means I only have pictures of my booth, but it's generally bad form to take pictures of other artist's work without permission, so any other photos I may or may not have taken won't be making any internet appearances.

 The shadowy figure back there is our own Megan.

I used to do shows like this on the regular, but the last three years I've done very few, mostly because when I finished school and got a real job, I told myself I no longer had the time to do them.  A sad fact, really.  The show promoters asked me to come with items under $10, which might seem like a tall order, but really was not.

I had an absolutely wonderful time.  It's hands-down the best staffed, most hospitable show I've ever done, and I sincerely hope I get a chance to do it again.  The real attraction of the weekend for me, though, wasn't the show.  It was seeing Megan!

We spent about 86% of our free time in Hancock Fabrics, discussing her quilt project, possible dress projects and the two throw pillows on her sofa with split seams.  Basically, it was heaven.

The most commented-on item during the show was probably my recycled game card notebooks.  Lots of giggles.

On Getting It Together.

I've had a nice weekend.  Not a great weekend, or an exciting one, but two days off where I could do whatever I wanted.  And what I wanted to do was nap, watch Bridesmaids, go shopping with a friend and eat a hamburger.  And guess what?  I did all of those things.

There are some things I should have done--like the dishes, which have been piling up all week.  I didn't take out the trash, or do a load of laundry, or even press a button on the roomba so it would clean the floors.  I didn't finish unpacking my car from the art show I was in last weekend.  I spent two days sleeping in, watching movies, and taking baths.  I didn't cook anything for the upcoming week.  I sauteed some frozen pierogis and left the dirty pan on the stove.

I'm sure my mental block about housework isn't specific to me, but I do find it worrying that my dishes are done so infrequently.  I leave my laundry until the day I run out of underpants, then furiously do four loads.  I literally have to push a button to clean the floor, and yet it never occurs to me to do it until it's already after midnight and too late to vacuum if I still want to be on good terms with the neighbors.

I seem to always find the time for something I want to do.  Can I go to five goodwills in an afternoon?  Absolutely.  I can also watch the same movie three times in a row.  But I can't go into the kitchen to do some dishes during the third replay, because I will miss something.

So this weekend, though relaxing, was not productive.  Hopefully tomorrow I can get it together and make my apartment look more like a dwelling, and less like an episode of Hoarders in the making.

Fabric Obsessed

As you may have guessed, I have recently been re-infected with a very serious affliction.  Fabric Obsession/Compulsion.  I can no longer help but steal moments out of my work day to lust after various sewing blogs and DIY projects.  I spend my lunch break at work searching for vintage dress patterns, fabric sales, and even craft give-aways on craigslist.  My daydreams revolve around what I'm going to do to certain Salvation Army dresses to make them the perfect outfit.  Will I hike up this hem?  Could I lower that neckline?   How sweet would that dress be with red tights, mary janes and a wide headband? I literally drool over these thoughts.  Even now, I'm debating whether or not I have enough time to drop by the thrift store that's going out of business and is just five minutes out of my way if drop by before I go home...  My name is Megan, and I have a problem.

The double problem is that, like everything else I do, I have gotten so excited about the idea of making my own clothes and re-purposing vintage items, I have not actually finished my current project.  I am supposed to be in the final(-ish) phases of making a personal quilt.  And this is not just any quilt.  This is a marital quilt.  Well, ok, sort of a premarital quilt since I am moving into my fiance's house sometime this fall and we're not actually getting married until May.  But the quilt does not have a den-of-sin motif, more like a rainbow-of-our-love motif.  At least that's what I think I was going for.  It's pretty simple in terms of pattern-- just the plain 12 inch squares (and rather hodge-podge at that), but there are lots of memories sewn into it.  There's the striped sweater piece I wore when I used to work at the bookstore all the time, the green fabric from the hippie dress I got at Penny Lane and wore all through high school, the screen-printed t-shirt I made while working at a summer camp in Maine that has a line of a Mary Oliver poem on it.  This poem actually:

When the Roses Speak, I Pay Attention

“As long as we are able to be extravagant we will be

Hugely and damply extravagant. Then we will drop

Foil by foil to the ground. This is our unalterable task,

And we do it joyfully.”

And they went on. “Listen,

The heart-shackles are not, as you think,

Death, illness, pain,

Unrequited hope, not loneliness, but

Lassitude, rue, vainglory, fear, anxiety, selfishness.”

Their fragrance all the while rising from their blind bodies, making me

Spin with joy. 

Isn't that lovely?  I think so.  She has another called Praying that I think is just wonderful too.

Praying

 It doesn't have to be
the blue iris, it could be
weeds in a vacant lot, or a few
small stones; just
pay attention, then patch

a few words together and don't try
to make them elaborate, this isn't
a contest but the doorway

into thanks, and a silence in which
another voice may speak.

 Nice, right?  Anyway, I'm supposed to be concentrating on finishing this quilt for my future husband and I, and I want to, believe me I do, but I also want to start my dress patterns, and shorten the vintage dress I bought last year and still haven't worn, and I definitely want to stop by the clearance thrift shop.  I'm not a total quilting failure though.  I did get the entire front and back of the quilt assembled, including the gorgeous gray and rose border, so really it's just a matter of assemblage and, you know, the actual quilting part.  How hard could that be, right?  Right?  I promise: pictures soon. 

Semi-invited.

 I have been invited to more weddings in the past year than I had been invited to in my whole life.  It’s a happy predicament to be in—seeing your friends find and celebrate love and commitment should never be anything but joyous.

I’m far from an etiquette maven, and in general am not too concerned over the fiddly rules of politeness.  If you’re nice to me and I’m nice to you and nobody’s toes are getting stepped on, I’m not going to get flustered about the number of forks on the table or that your kid called me Anna instead of Miss Ladypants.* 

But I’ve been the recipient of some non-standard invites that makes me wonder why an invitation was extended at all:

Ceremony-only or Reception-only invitations.

I see why, from a bride’s perspective, it’s a convenient way to invite everyone who wants to come without having to make the sacrifices that come with large guest lists (venue size, general intimacy, cost, entertainment, lodging, transportation).  But as a guest, I wonder why I’m welcome at one and not the other. 

Being excluded from the reception says that I’m there to help fill the church.

Being excluded from the ceremony says I’m not close enough to you to share in the moment, but can I please keep your Great Aunt Mildred (GAM) company so she doesn’t hit the DJ with her cane for playing the rap music and yell about why is there no goddamned sugar free dessert option, don’t you know she has diabetes?!

I mean, I’d be glad to distract your GAM from all the things going on that she hates for six hours.  I’d offer to find her some sugar-free jello (GAMs looooooove sugar-free jello).  But don’t ask me to do it unless I also get to see you walk down that aisle. **

*not my real last name.

** Unless your venue is really really small and only immediate family can fit, and all the other guests are similarly excluded.  Or if I work with you and you feel obligated to invite the whole office, but you don’t really want any of us there.  If you do that, chances are none of us will show up, except weird Lou, who we will send as an ambassador to give you the gift we all chipped in on.  Or if you elope then have the reception at a later date.  Or if you discuss it with me beforehand, and in return for GAMsitting, you will be my slave for a day and make me cornmuffins.

GAM.