Tag Archives: fashion

Paleo Diet: Plate Free Dining?

I’m not very good at diets, but I might try this Paleo diet I keep seeing all over Pinterest. Not for the reasons you’d suspect, probably, but because I hate washing dishes. If you don’t know what the Paleo diet is, just Google it.

I’ll wait.

I mean, I don’t fully understand it enough to tell you about it with my own words. Plus, I don’t really have an opinion on it being good or bad for your health. Seriously, this is the worst post ever written about the Paleo diet because all I care about is getting out of washing the dishes and fashion. I’m not actually going to say anything important about it. I’ll leave that to the food experts. Besides, I’m too busy planning my leopard print wardrobe and wondering which dog we could rename “Bam-Bam” or possibly “Pebbles.” I’d even consider changing my name to Wilma and naming my chicken Dino (she does look like a dinosaur).

I told you I wasn’t good at diets. I’m too easily distracted. Obviously.

Google the Paleo diet yet? OK, good.

Eat like a caveman. Kind of cool idea, right? I keep picturing myself dressed like Tarzan, well, maybe like Jane, gnawing on a giant turkey leg like they sell at the Renaissance fair. I’ll finally get a pet cheetah. I mean, pet chimpanzee named Cheetah. An actual cheetah would be insane. If I had an actual cheetah how would I walk it…or catch it when it ran away? I can barely keep up with Rosie. She out runs me at a brisk walk. Plus, I’m pretty sure a cheetah would just eat me because I’d be covered in turkey leg grease and look like a leopard. I don’t even know if that makes any sense. The truth is Jim already said I couldn’t have a pet cheetah so let’s just leave it at that.

The Paleo Diet Could End The Dish Washing Crisis Now!

I didn’t think twice about going on the Paleo diet the first time I read about it. I could never give up cheese. Or yogurt. Or, be still my heart, ice cream! Not to mention sweet potatoes are frowned upon and so are beans. I could never give up beans. When would I sing my favorite song about beans being the musical fruit? Plus, I’d probably get kicked out of New Mexico. Beans go with red or green just like chocolate goes with other chocolate. You can’t live here and not eat beans, unless you want to be friendless. Plus, cheese goes on beans, so there is that….

Anyway, all of that changed yesterday when I noticed a recipe to make pizza crust out of cauliflower. I’m not sure what kind of pizza doesn’t have cheese, but then I realized pizza crust is kind of like a giant plate. Then I started imagining my turkey leg on my pizza crust plate. Pizza crust is edible. This means you can eat your plate. If I go Paleo I may never have to wash dishes again. That would be awesome. Also, I would look cute having a picnic on my faux giraffe skin while petting my chimpanzee and NOT washing dishes afterwards. I’d probably smile more often and have a much higher life-happiness score too.

I’m giving the Paleo diet a second look. I mean, would I? Could I give up ice cream for plate free dining? It’s certainly a possibility I am looking into. Plus, I’ve always wanted a pet chimpanzee and I do love cauliflower. It’s only a matter of time before someone comes up with a recipe for cauliflower ice cream, right? When they do, I’ll be ready with adorable bones tied in my hair!


P.S. If you are on the Paleo Diet, I applaud you. It looks kind of hard. I mean you can’t eat Twinkies. That alone just proves you have the kind of moral strength and fortitude that I am seriously lacking. I wish I could be more like you and less like the flour loving cheese eater that I am. Let me be an example of what not to do. Seriously.




Beauty Routines Of The Not So Rich And Almost Famous

Tiny-Small blow drying her hair.
Tiny-Small won’t be a beauty school drop out, unlike her mother totally would have been if she ever attended beauty school. Also, it’s blurry because this kid does not sit still for anything anymore.

Tiny-Small insists on looking fabulous. It’s just her inner beauty queen speaking. She was born to sparkle, apparently. So, I wasn’t surprised when she begged me to let her use the hair dryer. I set it on low and hoped for the best. Since I subscribe to the “hands on” theory of learning I figured why not?

Drying her right foot.
First one foot…

I was kind of surprised that she thought it was important to dry her socks, but hey, I am no expert on the beauty routines of the not so rich and almost famous. Tiny-Small knows more about that at the ripe old age of three than I do at the nice young age of 38. I mean, she’s got the shiny, glitter gene and I’ve got the “I brushed my hair yesterday (I think)” gene so maybe sock drying is the latest fad in beauty culture. Maybe she is just starting a new trend.

Drying her left foot.
Then the other.

Either way, after my trip to the salon and looking great for 12 hours I am back to my usual ways. I can’t tame this curly mess of mine no matter how many YouTube hair tutorials I watch or how many hair slicking-down styling products I purchase. I am a lost cause, at least until I win the lottery (I don’t play), or invent some gadget that goes viral and makes me rich (doubtful given my track record with mechanical objects), or grow another set of arms (probably the most likely).

Beauty routines of the not so rich and almost famous.

This is what the beauty routines of the not so rich and almost famous look like. I use the word “almost” very loosely here, obviously. I mean, Tiny-Small is more almost famous than I am, probably because she is cute and I am more like an artist with no personal style or time to care. Fame is so hard to come by these days, especially when you are a practicing hermit covered in acrylic paint and seven types of glue pretty much every moment of your life. I probably should admit to using the term “beauty” pretty loosely here too. I mean, let’s be real, right?

If one more person over 65 tells me how lucky I am to have naturally curly hair I just might cry.


To Dye Or Not To Dye








I have been debating with myself about letting my hair go the way of the gray or white or silver or whatever color it would be if I just stopped dyeing it. To dye or not to dye seems to be the thing I cannot make a decision about these days. The question floats around in my mind behind all of the more pressing and important decisions I am supposed to be making right now. It nags at me day and night.


It shouldn’t be that big of a deal right? I keep wondering why I turn it into such a big deal. When will I stop worrying about what to do with my hair? Once the decision to dye or not to dye is made I’ll be right back to the similarly elusive question: To cut or not to cut?

The thing is, in my mind I will look like this when I let my hair grow out naturally:

This photo originally came from http://pastel-locks.tumblr.com as far as I can tell.



















In reality though I will probably look more like this…

Photo attributed to: http://hairtreatmentsclass.com















I mean, sure, I am exaggerating a little here, but this is how I imagine people will see me with my gray hair. People will stop and ask Tiny-Small if she likes going to the park with her Grandma and I will have to interrupt and clarify that I am in fact her mother. That could be a little awkward. I feel older than everyone else at the park as it is. Probably because I am older than everyone else at the park. This is what happens when you wait until your mid thirties to even think about having children. You become the oldest mother in town.

Anyway, I still don’t really know what I am going to do about my hair. The idea of throwing out the dye sounds so liberating. My hair will be healthier and with that $8.00 I will save each month I could buy myself a Starbucks coffee or maybe go to a movie, right? What do you think? Do you dye your hair? Have you ever fantasized about letting it all go gray? What stops you from taking the plunge?