Category: Daily

Every year I gain ten pounds over the holidays, and every year I lose ten pounds before the end of February.

Today is February 25th. (Only ten months until Christmas!) I have managed to lose three of my ten pounds. This can only mean that old lady crap metabolism has set in and that I’ll have to start moving around more than twice each week to get down to Status: My Pants Fit. New Plan? Lose the remaining seven pounds before the end of April, and gain only 5 pounds during the holidays. Easy. (Hopefully. Stinking Oreo Balls.)

One of my very favorite people is organizing an auction for the End Women’s Cancer Walk. I’m going to be knitting an Annis to donate to the auction. Because I’m absolutely terrible with deadlines, I’m going to use Fluid Pudding to hold me accountable throughout the next two months. I did my cast on last night.

I’ll keep you updated. Weekly, maybe. Or weakly. We’ll see. (If you would like to contribute anything to the auction, let me know! I can hook you up with the details.)

Spoofing Update: In the past 72 hours, only one person has cursed at me and accused me of stealing their credit card information. This might mean that the end is in sight! I have no idea! (I remain hopeful, because the hopeful people are the most charming, don’t you think? (The pessimistic ones always get those scowled up forehead wrinkles, and those are not always adorable.) By the way, I’m going to get my hair cut in the style of a Shaven Theron on Wednesday morning, and would you rather I be a pleasant bald lady or a scowler bald lady? That’s what I thought! Where was I?)

This week is crazy with meetings and conferences (meetings and conferences are two very different things!) and appointments (something else entirely!) and vegan spinach alfredo (dinner!) and shortened school days (no worries! we still meet our required 1,044 hours!) and surgeries (my mom’s ankle!) and veggie kebobs (lunch!).

Let there be peace on Earth, and let it begin with me. (I capitalize when I’m talking about the planet. I sometimes put my commas and periods outside of the quotation marks. A good friend of mine calls it intuitive punctuation, and I’m nothing if not intuitive.)

Is it time to do another BreadPuddingAlong? Three years have passed! ‘ ‘ ‘text/javascript’>

Let me just say this.

My name is Angela. (My middle name is Lynn, if you’re curious. I once asked my mom why she chose Lynn, hoping she would tell me a story about Loretta Lynn. Nope. Mom and Dad chose Lynn because everyone else was choosing Lynn. Lynn it is.)

I own Fluid Pudding Dot Com, and I have five e-mail accounts at Fluid Pudding Dot Com. One is for Angela, and that is my name. One is for Angie, and that is also my name. (I go by both, and sometimes I have no idea how to introduce myself. You can call me whatever you want. I used to drink a little and then introduce myself as Samantha. It’s a free country, although some of you don’t think so. Because it’s NOT!!!! Big scowls and frowns and blaming Obama for high gas prices!!! Where was I?) One e-mail account is for Fluid Pudding when I feel like I don’t want to share my name. My kids each have an account at Fluid Pudding, mainly because they really dig Pottermore, and you need an e-mail address to sign up.

I do not send out e-mails from 3920859 at fluid pudding dot com. I do not send out e-mails from loves269 at fluid pudding dot com or helensnastycloset at fluid pudding dot com. I could continue with this list, but I’m assuming you get the idea.

All of this to say: Fluid Pudding Dot Com has been spoofed. Spoofed! As a result, a lot of people are getting strange e-mails from random names at fluid pudding dot com. Some of those e-mails say things like, “Your PayPal payment to Bernard Chastain has been processed!” When the (mostly angry) recipient of this e-mail responds to Bernard at fluid pudding dot com, I get the (mostly angry) e-mail. And then I have to say something like this:

“Hello there! I am so sorry to tell you this, but I am not Bernard Chastain. My name is Angela and my account has been spoofed. I am not selling anything, nor am I trying to take payment for anything. I am currently in touch with my website host along with the tech support at PayPal, and we are trying to figure out what has happened. In the meantime, all I can do is tell you that I’m very sorry you received the terribly annoying e-mail regarding payment to Bernard Chastain, but I can assure you that I had nothing to do with it, and I’m doing everything I can to make sure it stops.”

Also, despite what the spoofer (is that what you call someone who spoofs?) wants you to think, I do not want to be connected to you on LinkedIn. I don’t want to be connected to ANYONE on LinkedIn. I pretty much hate LinkedIn, and I’ve deleted my account there 493 times, yet the e-mails keep pouring in. (“You can’t quit me, Angela!!!” – LinkedIn)

Finally, I have no interest in purchasing or selling a Russian mail order bride. I didn’t even realize that Russian mail order brides existed outside of bad sitcoms. Oh, the things you learn when you’re spoofed.

(It has been a very strange few days.)

If you’re here because you want to punch me for sending you a weird e-mail, please wait at the back of the line. I’ll be over here scratching my dogs’ ears and hoping this all ends soon. There’s coconut milk in the fridge. Help yourself. (Disclaimer: This is not really an invitation to help yourself to the coconut milk. Please don’t come into my house.) ‘ ‘ ‘text/javascript’>

1. This afternoon my mom came up and we had veggie sushi. Afterwards, we went to a health food store and I’m pleased to report that I am now the proud owner of nutritional yeast and vegan bacon bits and vegan bouillon cubes and Himalayan pink salt and vegan chicken and vegan beef and vegan egg substitute and I feel like you’re getting bored. I’ve been getting closer and closer to full on veganism, and now that I have this cookbook, it all boiled down to Finding the Products. I have found them.

2. If something weird happened and all of a sudden you were required to punch one person with absolutely zero consequences, do you know who you would punch? Sure, it would be easy to simply nod and choose Dr. Oz, but think about it. You get to punch ANYONE. You HAVE to punch someone. And maybe we’ll set it up in a way that the punchee has no idea WHO the puncher is. Do you know who you would choose? (I know who I would choose. I’m telling no one. If Punching Day ever happens, I’m ready.) ((My mom wants to punch Carrie Underwood, and although that sort of came out of left field, it made me very happy that my mom has chosen a Punchee.)) (((Please know that I do NOT endorse punching if it’s not part of a federally mandated Punching Day. Peace! Love!! Understanding!!!)))

3. After Harper misplaced both tennis shoes and her homework over the weekend and then offered a REWARD for them instead of actually LOOKING for them, my feathers got a little ruffled. When I went into the girls’ room to help look for the missing items and I found dirty clothes on the floor along with notes from school that carried dates from November, I lost my mind. Yesterday morning I dropped the girls off at school. I then returned home, entered their room armed with a box of trash bags, and threw away every single thing that was out of place. I had been threatening to do this for several weeks, but I always lost my nerve. Yesterday was The Day. The only items I held back from the trash were things like a digital camera, an iPod Nano, a DSi, and any books. (I can’t throw books away.) Those items were placed into a basket, and the girls can buy them back from me as they earn money by doing chores. (The Buy Back Bin was not my idea. A dear friend of mine mentioned it several months back, and I knew I had to work it in.)

4. When I was 21 years old, My Bloody Valentine released an album titled Loveless. I was finishing up the first semester of my first senior year and I spent my spare time writing bad poetry and taking midnight drives to Jefferson City for doughnuts and drinking instant coffee and burning incense and dipping fries in ice cream and Loveless was always in the background. When I think of Loveless, the leaves are brown and I’m in my Volkswagen Fox and I’m driving with the windows down and the heater on because I love fresh air and heat and I wore flannel and clunky shoes and I thought I liked to sip whiskey, but now I know I was just pretending.

Last week, My Bloody Valentine released their follow-up to Loveless. I’m now 42 years old. I’m now married with two kids, I’ve done the office job thing, I’ve moved several times, and I’m too tired for midnight doughnuts. Ah, but the leaves are still brown and my shoes are still a little clunky and I still try to write (not poetry, just this and that) and this morning I drove around with the windows cracked and the heat on and My Bloody Valentine is once again in my head and yes.

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First off and most importantly, thank you for all of your kind words regarding Meredith and her spelling bee! I love you guys. Please come over for dinner right now. I’m making this, and it smells like onion heaven. (That’s a very good thing.)

Okay.

My Thursday spinning class starts at 9:30. I have attended the class every week since Thursday, December 27th, which means it’s still a fairly new gig, but this is what I know: I LOVE it. I schedule appointments around it. I plan sports bra laundry around it. I love the instructor, I love her music, and I love the fact that I sometimes drip sweat onto the floor as I ride up a hill in the dark.

The place where I spin is right across the street from the girls’ school. On Thursdays, I tend to drop them off at around 8:40. I then park at the gym’s lot and drink hot tea until 8:50. I then enter the gym, sign up for a spot in the spinning studio, place my towels and my water on my favorite bike, and slowly warm up until the instructor arrives. At around 9:15, the studio is normally full of spinners. Although I haven’t really spoken to anyone, I always smile at the woman from Australia. I always stay far away from the older gentleman who is VERY outspoken about his belief that everyone should own a gun. (I have no idea how he manages to turn every topic of conversation into a gun control debate, but he does! It’s sort of like that whole Six Degrees of Kevin Bacon thing, minus the fun, plus furrowed brows and paranoia.) I try to stick close to the tall blonde woman who seems to weigh 60 pounds. (Fun Fact: If you click on the tall blonde woman link and listen to the song, please know that I can’t sing along without choking.)

This lady? I do not like this lady. Let’s call her Coco, because she actually carries a Chanel mini-backpack to the gym.

Coco always arrives for class right around the time that the bikes are filling up, and she ALWAYS screams to her friends about These New People who are showing up too EARLY and reserving their bikes too EARLY and, “I come straight here after I drop off my kid! I can’t get here any earlier and all of these NEW people are showing up and taking all the bikes! What the HELL?!”

These are her friends.

Their kids attend the same middle school as Coco’s, yet they somehow manage to arrive at class at least twenty minutes before her.

When Coco arrived to class last Thursday, all of the bikes were taken and SHE LOST HER MIND.

Coco: What the HELL?! IT WAS MY PLAN TO SPIN THIS MORNING!!! Who ARE all of these people?!

Friend #1: I know!

Friend #2: It’s disgusting.

(Really! She said it was disgusting! I can name at least 93 things that are more disgusting than people showing up a little early for a spinning class!)

Friend #3: Whoever put those towels on that bike hasn’t been here since I’ve been here. I say take it.

Coco then removed the water bottle and towels that someone else had placed on the bike, sat down, and began warming up—all while chomping gum and ranting about how ridiculous life can be.

Less than two minutes later, two gym employees entered the spinning studio with a guy who occasionally attends the class. Apparently, the towels and water bottle Coco had removed were his. The employees then BOUNCED Coco, and my heart filled with joy as she gathered her phone and her tiny backpack while yelling at the employees about All These People and how It’s Not Fair and You People Need to Do Something!!!

(Yes. My heart filled with joy. I’m not the greatest person and God isn’t finished with me yet or something (or other).)

The best part of all? After she stomped out and the door closed, Coco’s friends actually laughed about the whole thing. And Friend #2 spent the entire class shamelessly flirting with the guy who snitched on Coco.

He definitely wasn’t into it.

I matched (and sometimes outpaced) Friend #2’s ride until the final song ended, which I believe means that I won. And I’ll be back on Thursday. At 8:45. Because I can.

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I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’ve been trying pretty hard to not write about the kids at Fluid Pudding. (Mommy Blogger,  Schmommy Blogger, am I right?!) Today I feel the need to pull up my MomBlog pants for a quick Meredith story.

Every year, the girls’ school holds a spelling bee. Every third, fourth, and fifth grade classroom has a mini bee, during which a top speller is chosen to represent the class at the school bee. Meredith was the top speller in her third grade class last year, which scored her a spot at the bee.

Please take a moment and follow this link to see how tiny she looked at the bee last year. While you’re there, you can read about how I cried three times during the bee. After that, you can see that I was sort of obsessed with that whole nose piercing thing last year at this time. Eyeliner dots on my nose. So silly. We were all younger back then, weren’t we?

A few months ago, Meredith came home from school and announced that she had once again scored the honor of being the top speller in her class. She then presented us with the (HUGE) list of words that she would be studying until the day of the school spelling bee. She was serious. Motivated. She wanted to win more than she has wanted ANYTHING (except for an iPod Touch) EVER.

Because Jeff is the greatest dad, he recorded each and every one of those challenging words into a spelling app so that Meredith could practice around the clock. Her iPod would recite each word in Jeff’s voice, Meredith then typed each word in, and when she was finished testing she was given a percentage of correct words along with a list of missed words. Last weekend she tested herself on over 300 of the words. She missed only two of them, and the two she missed were because of typing errors. She was ready.

I drove to school yesterday afternoon for this year’s bee. Although the bee had absolutely nothing to do with me, I was a wreck. When the spellers entered the cafeteria, I immediately started guzzling my tea to keep from tearing up. (Why?! I know!!!) The third, fourth, and fifth graders were seated, the moderator explained the rules, and it was time to begin.

It didn’t take long to notice that one of the spellers is what I refer to as a Magical Child. She’s a fifth grader. She’s lovely and polite and smart. She is a musician. Her mom is involved in the PTO. Her family attends events. She is well-liked. Confident. She is a GREAT SPELLER.

Moderator: Magical Child, your word is Insouciant.

Magical Child: Insouciant. EyeEnEssOhYouSeeEyeAyEnTee. Insouciant.

Moderator: That is correct.

I knew right away that Magic could take this thing.

It took only a few rounds before several of the spellers’ nerves were exposed and they started making simple mistakes. (The first boy down missed the word Bridge, and it broke me because I know he knew that word and I also know that the bee was something he took seriously because he was wearing a tie. A TIE! (Studies have shown that emotional tears contain more manganese, an element that affects temperament, and more prolactin, a hormone that regulates milk production. Sobbing out manganese and prolactin is thought to relieve tension by balancing the body’s stress levels and eliminating build-up of the chemicals, making the crier feel better. I need to head to the pharmacy and grab some supplements, because I believe I’m currently manganese and prolactin deficient.))

It took about twenty minutes to get down to the final three spellers: Meredith, Magic, and Some Girl I Don’t Know.

Meredith had spelled Describe, Upbringing, Poultry, Caterpillar, Eruption, Emotional, Curiosity, and Isolation. These were easy words. It was time to turn it up a notch.

Moderator: Magical Child, your word is Pharmaceutical.

(Please know that her word wasn’t REALLY Pharmaceutical. At this point my hands were so sweaty that I could no longer take notes.)

Magic: Pharmaceutical. Pharmaceutical. PeeAychAyArEmEeSeeYouTeeEyeSeeAyEl. Pharmaceutical.

Moderator: I’m sorry.

As soon as Magic sat down, I made eye contact with Meredith. This was it. Things were happening. Oh My Oh My Oh My Oh My Et Cetera.

It was now down to Meredith and That Girl I Don’t Know, who tended to spell her words as if she was asking a question. (Her style did not inspire confidence. Have I mentioned how emotionally charged this whole spelling bee thing can be?!)

Moderator: Meredith. Your word is Evaluate.

Meredith (after taking a big breath): Evaluate. EeVeeAyYouAyTeeEe. Evaluate.

She knew she missed it. She knew her nerves got the best of her. She was angry and disappointed and I have no idea what happened next because I was lying on the floor soaked in my own vomit.

The Girl I Still Don’t Know spelled her word correctly to finish out the round, and then spelled her NEXT word correctly and that’s when she was proclaimed the winner and it all happened so quickly and photos were taken and I DO remember whispering the word, “Damnit.” and I hope no one saw or heard me, because this is not the time nor the place for my foul mouth. I clapped for the winner. I did. I was sincerely happy for her, and the fact that her sister went up and hugged her after the bee warmed my heart like crazy. What made me even HAPPIER was that I later learned that The Girl I Don’t Know is in the fifth grade. It was her final year to compete. If Meredith can’t win, I want it to be a fifth grader. I want it to be a Girl I Don’t Know.

When Meredith came out to the car after school, Harper asked how the bee went.

Meredith: I lost.

Me: Actually, you tied for second place! Third place last year, second place this year! IT’S ALL SO AWESOME WITH THE DAISIES AND UNICORNS AND TWIX BARS AND HAPPINESS!

Harper: What word did you miss?

Meredith: Evaluate.

Harper, who is about to win the Fluid Pudding Award for Kindness with this statement: Meredith, evaluate is a very tricky word.

Me: It is a VERY tricky word and PRIDE AND AWESOME AND SOMETIMES I HAVE TO RAMBLE AND SPEAK LOUDLY BECAUSE I DON’T KNOW WHY!

Meredith: When Dad gets home, can we celebrate with a burrito?

Silly question. ‘ ‘ ‘text/javascript’>

(Harper gave me pens for Christmas.) ‘ ‘ ‘text/javascript’>

Every time Meredith has money, she wants to spend it on gifts for her friends. I don’t think this is a bad thing, and I enjoy seeing how thoughtful she is becoming as she chooses The Perfect Gift for different girls in her class. Because we’ve heard rumors that a birthday party is being planned in February, Meredith asked if we could go to the mall yesterday. She has chosen a few gifts for the birthday girl, and the store that sells the gifts (Justice) currently has a 40% storewide sale.

Please note that although I mentioned the store name up there, I didn’t link to it. Because I don’t like it. Because they sell padded bras for children. I mention how ridiculous this is every time we visit the store, yet we STILL VISIT THE STORE. (The girls love their pajamas and jewelry.) (Oh! Please don’t tell me how terrible I am for even walking in the door KNOWING that they sell padded bras for children. As hackneyed as it sounds, you really DO choose your battles/boycotts. I tend to not purchase products that were tested on animals. If someone tells me that the best seitan is at Whole Foods, I’ll go to Whole Foods regardless of the CEO’s views on climate change. (I’m on the edge of trying seitan. I might take you with me on that adventure.) My kids have been vaccinated and they’re current on their flu shots. I made them watch the inauguration yesterday. I will never wear anything with a Nike logo on it. I would rather have a migraine than eat a hamburger. I will always turn to rescue groups when it’s time to adopt a pet. I’m just a big bowl of Ridiculous and Kind and Anxious and Smart and Thirsty. (My hot tea is brewing. It was purchased at a place that was recently acquired by Starbucks. I won’t stop buying my tea, because my tea makes me happy. If you’re rolling your eyes right now, I hope they don’t stick like that. I really don’t! I think you’re so pretty, even though we might make different choices.))

The four of us arrived at the mall at approximately 12:30 and none of us had eaten lunch, so we headed to the food court where babies were screaming and kids were running and strollers were being pushed into people (mostly accidentally, I’m sure) and so many people. SO many people and so much noise and terrible food smells and sticky surfaces and although I have a prescription for Xanax, I rarely carry it with me. I needed Xanax at the mall food court, but I settled for a veggie burger.

After eating, we headed to the store where Meredith chose a stuffed animal, a necklace, and a hat for her friend. Something that should have taken about three minutes ended up taking fifteen, and when we exited the store and Jeff asked if we needed to go anywhere else in the mall, all I could say was, “I just need to be in the car. Right now.” I know my kids think I’m a weirdo. I also know that when you have kids, you can’t always avoid crowds. So many parades, amusement parks, parties, et cetera. I try to keep it together. That’s all I can do.

This morning I was supposed to go to the J for a spinning class after dropping Harper off at school. I made it as far as the parking lot before turning around and going right back home. I really can’t do people today. (I try to make it to spinning at least thirty minutes before class starts. After selecting my bike (#4!) and placing my towels, I warm up slowly while listening to the other class members talk about how disappointed they are because the class has become so crowded with “all these people who made resolutions to get into shape!” I’m one of the people they’re talking about, and I understand that they’re bummed about having to show up a few minutes earlier to sign up and choose a bike, but I also know that my paid membership carries the same weight as their paid membership and Dear God I’m so crabby right now.)

Someone around here needs to go to the grocery store, and that someone is me. Less than ten miles from my house sits a butternut squash that needs to find its way into my oven. (I’ll be using the self check-out lane.) Enjoy your Tuesday. ‘ ‘ ‘text/javascript’>

Well, that week passed by quickly, didn’t it?

Let’s see. I gave my dogs their heartworm preventatives, I made a zucchini lasagna, I went to Pilates and spinning, and I joined Tempe and my mom at The Melting Pot where the guy in the kitchen PUT BACON ON MY SALAD AFTER I ORDERED IT WITHOUT BACON AND I TOOK A BIG BITE OF SALAD WITHOUT NOTICING AND UGH. BACON.

(I know. I went all caps in real life, too. I realize it sounds ridiculous, but I’ve been a vegetarian for quite some time now, and Hhhhhhh. I now feel like I’m back at Day One. Jeff has assured me that this isn’t the case because it wasn’t intentional, but still. Still. I don’t want to talk about it. I know I sound petty. It made me sad. That’s all.)

I finished knitting a shawl for a woman in Florida who sends amazing Christmas presents to my kids even though she has never met them.

I put some time in on a cardigan that will eventually look like this, but now mainly looks like this:

Most importantly? My Rivet & Sway glasses arrived yesterday afternoon! (The story is here in case you just tuned in. Don’t forget, the ANGELASWAYS coupon code will score you $25 off a pair of glasses until April 8th, 2013!)

I tried to get a decent photo of myself wearing my glasses this morning. I was sitting in a parking lot and the sun was positioned in a way that made it look as if I was shooting rainbows out of the side of my face. Sadly, after five or so failed attempts, I started throwing my crabby face. You get what you get and you don’t throw a fit. (Unless someone puts unsolicited bacon on your salad.)

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This morning I dropped the kids off at 8:35, which gave me less than an hour before my first call of the day. I drove like one of those hell bats straight to the lake (My inner hell bat is very safe. She uses turn signals. No need for anger/concern.), loaded up my iPod, and decided to see how long I could run.

I ran/walked (mostly walked) for about 45 minutes, and it felt great. I haven’t run since I suffered a stress fracture in my heel on October 28th. This morning I learned that two months with no running put me straight back to I Can’t Run Without Thinking I Might Die. My longest running stretch was right around three and a half minutes, which was long enough to land me close to the end of Andrew Bird. And that’s a good place to be. (Gutter head.)

I saw less than five people while I was at the lake. The sun was shining. I was sweating like a heavy sweater would sweat. It was absolutely perfect. Best of all, the waterfall I hadn’t seen since October 25th had been waiting for my return.

Things are happening. This morning for the first time in forever, I didn’t feel the need to wear a shirt that covered my rear. You have no idea what a huge step this is for me. You really have no idea. (Unless you do.) ‘ ‘ ‘text/javascript’>

IMPORTANT ANNOUNCEMENT: Because you guys were so helpful in your comments, and because so many of you expressed an interest in Rivet & Sway, the company has given me a $25 coupon code to share with you! Just enter ANGELASWAYS during the prescription checkout process. (Don’t enter it while ordering your Home Try-On kit. The kit is always free!) Let’s get glasses together!!! How fun is this?! (The code is good through 4/8/13.)

Do you remember way back in November of 2010 when my eye doctor told me that I needed glasses?

I did what anyone would do. I came home, I took a cruddy photo of myself, and I started the process of trying on different frames. Virtually.

It started out innocently enough.

But, you know me. I get overwhelmed so easily, and that’s when I start acting squirrelly.

It didn’t take long to realize that I would never have luck with the online thing. I grabbed my keys and drove to an actual store where I chose some frames and was then talked into a bunch of weird extras that I didn’t completely understand. I walked out feeling sort of bummed because the sign on the door told me that All Frames Are $99!, yet I had just written a check for over $300. (Yes. I still write checks. Sometimes I’m cute like it’s 1983.)

Fast forward to December 29th, 2012. I told you about my teapot. I told you about my yarn and my spinning class and I casually mentioned that I was excited about being able to choose some new frames (the kind you wear on your face) in 2013.

Because Fluid Pudding is my vision board (By the way, don’t get me started on vision boards.), two days later I received a message from Rivet & Sway—an eyewear boutique designed exclusively for women. Full Disclosure: They told me they would comp a pair of glasses to me if I share the Rivet & Sway process with the folks who stop by Fluid Pudding. In other words, an amazing place is offering an amazing deal, and I’m under no obligation to say nice things. (The good news? I have nothing BUT nice things to say.)

Here’s how Rivet & Sway works.

1. You go to the website.

2. You take a look at the frames.

3. You narrow down your choices depending on the shape of your face and the size and color of frames you might want.

4. If you get stuck and need some advice, you contact the personal stylist, who is SO nice and SO smart. (I told her that my face is oval, and I sent her this photo so she could see my current frames and my skin tone and my hair color and my silk scarf. (I really need to wear that scarf more often.))

5. Less than 24 hours later, the stylist will send an e-mail recommending styles that she feels will look great, and she then suggests that you add the styles to a Home Try-On kit. (She recommended four styles for me. I chose my favorite three out of the four and added them to my Home Try-On kit. The Home Try-On thing was vital for me. After messing around with the virtual try-on process at several other online stores (See the mustard shot above. Really. I cannot be trusted to do these things correctly.), I knew I couldn’t handle trying on pretend frames. BUT, I’m scared to walk into an actual store knowing that I can pretty much be talked into anything.) For Rivet & Sway’s Home Try-On, you order up to three frames, they arrive in a few days, and you then have three days to try them on and feel their weight and wear them in public and ask your family and friends to tell you what looks best. Genius.

6. On Day Three, you box the frames back up, attach the pre-paid and pre-addressed label to the box, and you send them back to Rivet & Sway. It’s so easy. You are under NO obligation to order, but if you DO order? Your new glasses will cost $199. That includes the frames and the prescription lenses and coatings. (The advice from the personal stylist, the Home Try-On, and the shipping is always free.)

My Home Try-On frames arrived on Friday, and although I’m about 94.5% sure of the ones I’ll order, I would also like to ask for your opinion.

This is me in the Street Smart frames. Picture me wearing these frames to the library to check out the latest John Irving book. I’ll then come home, put in some freelance time, and prepare my boring treasurer reports for the PTO meeting—all while looking very stylish and smart. (I have no idea how to smile for photos, so I tend to smirk or wince. With that said, I AM happy with my hair in this shot. (I’m trying so hard to balance my negatives with a positive. I had three cookies for lunch. And then I ate hummus. See?))

This is me in the Faster Pussycat frames. I see myself eating doughnuts in these glasses. Also, sushi. Actually, as soon as I tried these on, I felt a swirly and warm spark. I wanted to throw on a skirt. I wanted to seek out an unlikely gathering of trombone players. I wanted to knit a beret and hand it to someone who is clearly in need of a beret!

This is me wearing the Je Ne Sais Quoi frames. Picture me wearing them while steeping up a tumbler of hot tea and perhaps heading out for a Pilates class. (Pilates. I know! I’m clearly in a state of metamorphosis, which brings to mind the phrase, “Pupa?! Supa DUPA!” Get this: I’ll be heading to the J five times this week to try out various fitness classes. My synapses are firing completely differently than they were last year at this time.)

I know it probably sounds silly, but what a fun diversion it was to get frames in the mail and play with them over the weekend! (I played responsibly, of course.) If you’re needing new glasses, please give Rivet & Sway a shot! (Even if you’re not NEEDING new glasses, but want to shake up your style and attitude, go to their website! Seriously—I’m suddenly seeking out trombone concerts and hanging out at libraries and gyms!) I’ve been singing songs about Rivet & Sway all weekend. (I also really like The Character Study and The Punchline!)

(Let me know if you order a Home Try-On kit! I can’t wait to hear what you think!) ‘ ‘ ‘text/javascript’>