Author Archives: carlieblissirwin

I love fall. And making lists.

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WARNING: I’m having a Jessie Spano moment again.

Short work weeks are great, don’t get me wrong. I love not working on Mondays. But so far I’ve spent this week furiously typing, scurrying to meetings and still feeling like I’m not getting anything done.

Picture me waving my arms over my head, running aimlessly and bouncing off the walls of my 5×5 ft. cube (which luckily happen to be padded) desperately shouting out meaningless phrases like “Thanks for the update!” “Your check has been requested!” “Your chapter is overdue!” “Check out this hilarious video on YouTube!”

In my life right now, this disturbing scene can best be described as Thursday.

And yet, instead of working through lunch, I find myself writing a blog post.

But it’s going to be a short one.

What’s the most concise way to communicate a group of ideas? An organizational method beloved by Type A personalities all over the world?

Making a list!

And what season is it (almost)?

Fall!

This is the primitive thought process that led to my decision to post a list of things I love about fall. Enjoy.

1. Starbucks Pumpkin Spice Lattes. I’m going to need one of these today.

2. No humidity. I hate humidity. And I get the impression that it hates me too. I don’t mess up people’s hair, give them a sticky sweat wedgie and choke them with hot air if I like them. If humidity does like me, it sure has a funny way of showing it.

3. The smell of burning leaves. It reminds me of Girl Scout Camp, which I actually hated and never went to in the fall. But I still love the smell. Explain that one to me.

4. Halloween. I might mix it up this year. Instead of going as a slutty <fill in the blank>, I’m bringing frumpy back. How about a dowdy cheerleader? A homely nurse? A sloppy school girl?

5. Sweaters. I love being wrapped up in a cozy cable knit sweater or North Face fleece. It’s like living in a blanket, which reminds me of sleeping. I love sleeping. And yes, I’m also a big fan of the Snuggie.

6. The fall TV season. New Glee! New Gossip Girl! New How I Met Your Mother! No time to watch any of them! Thank God for my DVR!

7. Uggs. Yeah, I said it. I like Uggs. It’s fine, I can handle your hate mail. I’m not saying they look great or anything, but who doesn’t love having their feet nestled in lamb’s fleece? It’s like walking on clouds. I wish they made Ugg jumpsuits and it was socially acceptable to wear them. On cold days, Uggs are just the best.

8. The leaves changing colors. I know this is a copout. Everyone loves this about fall. Moving on…

9. The sound of football on TV. Notice I said the sound. I don’t watch football. Large men in shiny spandex pants grunting and tackling and losing brain cells and giving each other lingering health issues isn’t really my thing. But for some reason, I’ll always have a soft spot for the familiar sound of crowds and whistles and the ref announcing calls over the loud speaker.

10. No more mosquitoes. This summer, I was completely annihilated by those vicious blood suckers. I’m still recovering. I’d like to individually go up to each of the 10,203 mosquitoes that bit me this summer and personally blast them with cold fall air. They may have won the battle. But I will win the war. Because they’re all dying right now. Hopefully slowly and painfully. And itchily. HA.

What do you love about fall??

Crossing off #13 on the Baby Bucket List

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Item #13 on my Baby Bucket List is as follows, and I quote:

“Go on a loooong road trip. Not one of those 5-hour dealies, like the St. Louis to Chicago trip we do every other weekend.”

A couple of weekends ago, we coaxed the Stratus into rumbling all the way up to Michigan, a 7.5 hour drive, and this weekend we are somehow hoping she’ll be able to bump and grind her way to the middle of Iowa for my cousin’s wedding, another 7.5 hour (or longer) drive.

You guys, I’m just going to go ahead and cross this road trip goal off the list:

CHECK!

Both trips are over 5 hours, and honestly, I don’t really enjoy driving much longer than that.

Road trips can be fun, but I seem to have major issues with butt comfort (or lack thereof) when I’m driving. Also, I get stressed easily on the highway and in the presence of roaring metal monsters of death trucks, so I’m constantly tense and can’t relax, which consequently seems to be a good workout for my hamstrings, but still.

I also have a major issue with the audio portion of road trips. The Stratus (bless her heart) hails from a time (2002) when non-luxury cars did not come equipped with iPod docks. I have a handy little hookup thingy that looks like a thermometer on a wire that I can plug into my cigarette lighter (do new cars still come with those?), but it’s kind of a pain.

Also, if there is any sort of sporting event on a station that gets any sort of reception, Will insists on listening to that while I try to not have a seizure caused by the incessant buzzing that accompanies AM radio broadcasts picked up in the cornfields of middle America.

And no, books on tape are not an option. The voice of the reader always starts to annoy me after about 5 minutes. It helps if the person is British, but I still have a problem with it.

If there’s rain, snow, wind, fog, an excessive amount of sunshine, darkness, construction, bumpy roads, traffic jams or two-lane highways, I become a defeated, stressed-out puddle of “I can’t do this,” “This sucks,” and “We’re never going to get there.” It’s not pleasant.

So now that it’s crossed off the Baby Bucket List, I’m officially not planning on going on any more road trips in the near future. Well, after this weekend I guess.

I’m going to go stock up on Red Bull and Twizzlers so I can self-medicate when I start to feel a meltdown coming on. Wish me luck!

The Emmys red carpet: Opinions from someone with a slightly above average fashion sense at best

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Last Sunday night, I watched the Emmys. Or most of the Emmys – Mad Men came on at 9 pm and hello! Priorities!

I think it’s a little ridiculous how red carpet fashion gets analyzed and critiqued to death but I also love it a little bit too. It’s a nice way to remind celebrities that although they may be beautiful and talented (for the most part), they can’t be perfect all the time. And when they’re not, they will be subjected to a ruthless public flogging.

While the fashion commentators get a little technical at times, throwing terms around like silhouette and drape, I don’t think most Americans care enough to even consider whether or not a cowl neck is flattering on Demi Moore’s bone structure or whatever.

For those who are interested in an honest first impression-based opinion from a person who does read fasion blogs but doesn’t know why because they make her feel completely inadequate, here are some of my thoughts.

Note: I’m not going to list off designers because who really cares, and if you are actually intending on running out and buying Versace because you saw it on some celebrity, then can you send me an offshoot of that money tree you have growing in your backyard?

Anna Paquin

Here we have warrior princess Anna, who after successfully slaying the evil golden-scaled dragon, decided to skin it and fashion it into a mini breast plate. Kind of like a crop top of armor with shoulder pads.

Christina Hendricks

BOOBS. Not crazy about the color or feathers that make it look like it’s been so long since she last shaved her pits that her hair has spider webs growing from it. But her face and red hair are sooo pretty. And I’m totally heterosexual, but wow her figure is banging. And BOOBS.

January Jones

I LOVE that color. I bet if you lick this dress it tastes like blueberries. The rest of January is a hot mess. Hopefully whoever got to sit on either side of her in the theater could see over the flared out wings of distracting flashing blueness that was hitting them in the face.

Heidi Klum

Cute, but short. Kind of like an embellished corset with no pants. I bet the paparazzi were on high alert crotch-watch when she stepped out of the limo. Luckily when you have friends like Tim Gunn, you know how to be ladylike.

Kim Kardashian

To-ga! To-ga! Kim, the Four Seasons called and they want their sheets back. Actually, I like this dress. It’s not black, sheer, lacy or painted on. Are we sure this is Kim Kardashian?

Tina Fey

Ooh she looks sassy here! I used to want to be an Egyptologist and I’m pretty sure it says “30 Rock Rules” and “I got to kiss Jon Hamm so all you other ladies can suck it” across her chest in heiroglyphics.

Betty White

Awwww. And awwww. She looks like my grandma wrapped in a sunset. These days Betty can do no wrong and I’m pretty sure if I said anything mean about her outfit, someone would start a Facebook page petitioning to have me killed.

Claire Danes

Sparkles! If I ever get invited to a black tie red carpet event, I think this is the kind of dress I would wear. Except I would look less like a Barbie doll and more like…well, someone who doesn’t belong at a red carpet event. P.S. I had to squint and put my face up against my computer screen to make sure this was actually Claire Danes. Angela? From My So-Called Life? Are you in there?

For more fashion commentary that’s actually funny and actually fashion commentary, check out Tom & Lorenzo where I got all of these photos. No one does fashion like the gays.

Gatsby goes to the beach

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If you read my last post, you know that I was in Michigan last weekend.

What I failed to mention was that we brought Gatsby along for his very first vacation ever. He was getting a little stressed out (read: barking incessantly) by the evil mailman throwing paper through the door on a daily basis and the people in the neighborhood who dare to stroll past our house his fortress. We thought he could use a little R&R.

Turns out the beach isn’t as relaxing as it would seem when you’re a small dog who gets nervous in unfamiliar environments, eats sand, and hyperventilates when he gets wet. For Gatsby, the beach was about as fun as getting his nails trimmed. Lucky for us, there was no biting or loss of bowel control involved.

Here’s what I imagine he was thinking during his sandy adventure:

“Woohoo! What up, BEACH!? The Great Gatsby has arrived! I WILL DOMINATE YOU. This sand feels weird on my feet.”

“Hey, seagull. How’s it going? That’s a nice perch you’ve got up there, seagull. Good thing you’re not on the beach, or I would PULVERIZE you. Say hello to your mother for  me.”

“Do doo dooo, walking on the beach… Wait. Umm…is that water right there? Hold the phone! HOLD THE F-ING PHONE!”

“Hello0000, McFly! I thought I’ve made it clear that I don’t DO water. Is this some kind of joke? This is a vacation? Someone go get my favorite blanket and a rawhide.  Eeee! I think my fragile paw just got a little wet! This shit is bananas. I’m OUT.”

“Oh no. Oh HELL no. Do NOT take me in that water! Do you hear me? Not one step futher! Don’t you drop me… Christ on a cracker, this mother f-ing lake is mother f-ing freezing! I hate you all!”

<Shout out to Mad Men for that awesome “Christ on a cracker” catch phrase. Gatsby is a big fan.>

“Screw you guys. Not funny. Now my fur is all messed up and I can’t feel my nether regions. I would bite you if I could only stop shaking. DO YOU SEE WHAT YOU HAVE REDUCED ME TO? This is completely unacceptable. I’m hiding your socks under the bed later. Don’t even try to stop me.”

“Uggh I’m wet! And sandy! Oh the humanity! I am RUINED. I have no choice but to resign myself to this foul fate. A hell most damp and unclean! Please – just go. I’m going to my happy place.”

“Huh. This sand doesn’t taste half bad.” <nom nom nom> “Really, it’s not bad at all. What’s that you say? Don’t eat it? OH YEAH??”

“Well take THIS, evil humans! I’m going to roll around and eat as much sand as I can and then poop it out and scatter it all over the house later! HA!”

“Revenge is mine, biatches! The Great Gatsby is victorious once again! Now will someone please go get my favorite blanket and a rawhide? How many times to I have to ask??”

“Oh, so now you’re going to make me sit here and pose for these ridiculous pictures? Screw you guys.”

Two words: Pure Michigan

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If the title of this post isn’t clear or you’re somewhat dense, I’m in Michigan right now.

Actually, assuming this will be posted at 10 a.m. like I instructed WordPress to do, I will technically be en route to Michigan, cruising down the highway in our sleek 2002 Dodge Stratus.

(That’s also assuming the Stratus hasn’t crapped out on us. She gets a little cranky when I try to go over 60 mph. That’s when I hit the gas even harder and bark that oil changes are for sissies!)

But soon I’ll no doubt be relaxing on the beach in a Great Lake State of mind. (Michigan is called the Great Lake State if you didn’t know. I think it’s also called the Wolverine State, but I don’t have a pun for that, and I’m also hoping wolverines are not involved in any of my plans for the weekend.)

If you haven’t realized it by now, this post is pretty pointless. Its sole purpose is just to announce the following:

I AM IN MICHIGAN.

And you’re (probably) not. Although I can’t be entirely sure about that.

Also, this will be my view as I lay out on the beach, reading The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo, which has gotten a lot of hype lately, but 150 pages in, my review so far is “meh.”

Hopefully I’m not as red as that lighthouse when I get back.

Ciao! Or, as they say in Michigan…

Bye!

I almost want to have a baby…

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Just so that I can buy this adorable frog pillow thing and put the baby in it.

This particular baby is Bethenny Frankel’s. I first spotted the frog pillow with her baby nestled snuggly in its arms on her reality show, and I think it was the first time in my life that my heart melted at the sight of something infant-related.

It was stupidly cute.

I actually hit rewind so I could see it and swoon again. Twice.

It was Sunday morning and I was home alone, and yet I still could not keep myself from saying “Awwwww” out loud. And it probably sounded just as annoying as you’re imagining, so I guess it’s a good thing that no one was there. Then I went to find Gatsby because the sight of that whole ridiculously cute frog pillow situation made me want to cuddle with something.

First hints of maternal instincts?

I don’t know.

The fact that this pillow that I MUST HAVE whenever a baby Irwin comes into our lives is actually something that I can place said baby in to get it out of my way may indicate otherwise.

Also, for a split second it crossed my mind that I could buy the pillow now for Gatsby. A frog cuddling with a tiny dog? Shut up. I die. (Yes, I also watch The Rachel Zoe Project.)

So really my obsession with the frog pillow may not be baby-related at all. I just can’t handle the cuteness of a small creature snuggled up with an affectionate plush frog. My heart swells, my eyes tear up, I cock my head to one side, smile like a freaking idiot and explode into tiny pieces of heart-shaped cartoon confetti.

I may have just discovered my kryptonite.

Regardless, the fact remains that someday a similar frog pillow WILL be mine (oh yes), and if it means that in order to get one I have to have a baby to put in it…then so it shall be.

All you need is love. And awesome friends and family.

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Three years ago today, I married the guy who I have been referring to on this blog as “Will.” (Because that’s his name and that’s what I call him. I’m not much of a nickname person.)

I think we can both say that it was the best day of our lives so far.

Yes, we were thrilled to be in love and marrying each other (right, Will??), but one of the best things about that day was that we had pretty much ALL of our family and friends in one place, celebrating that love.

They arrived.

They helped me get dressed.

They prentended not to notice the horrendous golf ball-sized zit that I OF COURSE had on my wedding day.

They handed out programs.

They sat.

They stood.

They nonchalantly wiped sweat off their brows. (It was a bit warm that day.)

They escorted.

They read poems.

They hugged.

They posed.

They looked beautiful.

They wondered when they could get inside. (Ok, it was hot that day…)

They drank.

They gave toasts.

They got M&Ms.

And cake.

They smiled.

They laughed.

They took pictures.

They twirled.

They got a little bit softer now.

They danced.

And danced.

And danced.

And finally…they ate cheeseburgers at midnight.

And they were all so sincere and really just happy for us. If they didn’t feel the love that night, they did a pretty darn good job of faking it.

So I just want to thank all of our friends and family for being in our lives and being the wonderful people they are.

Because as good as Will and I are together, we wouldn’t be nearly as good as individuals without those guys. All 200+ of them.

Trippin’ out

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One of my favorite things to do is go on vacation.

This makes a lot of sense because some of my other favorite things to do are relax, go out to eat, and not work.

Traveling is a priority in life right now because it’s probably going to become a lot more difficult and less frequent once we have kids. Will and I haven’t done our big trip to Europe yet (it’s on the baby bucket list!), but we have gone to a lot of cool places since we got married three years ago.

Today, I’m putting on my “travel guide” hat and giving you my own special take on some of the top places we’ve been to.

San Francisco

3 phrases that best describe our experience: mojitos, sore calves, food poisoning

Best anagram:  No ass can firc

Theme song: “Gonna Be” by the Proclaimers (aka, And I would walk 500 miles…because you will. Walk. 500 miles.)

Ideal outfit: Skinny jeans, flats, tank top, short sleeve shirt, long sleeve shirt, sweater, jacket, scarf (layers are key – it’s literally 10 degrees colder in the shade). Also, I think you could get away with wearing a beret here. If you want to.

Make sure to bring: A cool indifference to homeless people

Boston

3 phrases that best describe our experience: Sam Adams, nausea on a T train, the Redcoats are coming!

Best anagram: Snot bo

Theme song: “Revolution” by The Beatles

Ideal outfit: Know this: nothing is worse than a pair of Uggs. Except for a pair of smelly, sweaty Uggs. It can be 80 degrees there in September. I’m just saying.

Make sure to bring: A dictionary. There are a lot of smarties running around that city. You don’t want to look a fool.

Costa Rica

3 phrases that best describe our experience: pura vida, ATVs are scary, monkeys!!!

Best anagram: A rat coc is

Theme song: “Welcome to the Jungle” by Guns N’ Roses

Ideal outfit: Nothing. It’s hot there.

Make sure to bring: Various blunt instruments to fight off large lizards. And Frizz-ease.

Charleston, SC

3 phrases that best describe my experience (this was a girls-only trip): pineapples, heavy accents, I want that house

Best anagram: La rot sneach

Theme song: Dixie

Ideal outfit: Just wrap yourself in a confederate flag. You’ll fit right in.

Make sure to bring: Alligator repellent

Miami

3 phrases that best describe our experience: speedos, GTL, habla ingles?

Best anagram: I am mi (didn’t have a lot to work with there, ok?)

Theme song: “Livin’ la Vida Loca” by Ricky Martin

Ideal outfit: Skimpy bikini with metallic heels, flashy earrings and huge sunglasses. This works for both men and women.

Make sure to bring: Lots of money and those glow sticks you can put in your mouth.

I know, my anagrams suck. That was a lot harder than I thought.

Next up on the travel docket: Michigan! Thanks to those “Pure Michigan” commercials. It’s not that the wistful music and Tim Allen’s soothing voice made me cry or anything. Wait. What?

I have a theory

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You know how lately a bunch of reality shows have been showing way too much footage of people giving birth?

In the past 6 months alone we’ve had:

Kendra popping out Hank Jr.

Kourtney K. pulling Mason out of herself (shudder).

Real Housewife Teresa screaming bloody murder from her epidural and bringing forth another expensive life that undoubtedly did nothing to help her family’s bankruptcy situation.

Other Real Housewife Bethenny dealing with the intense pain of childbirth by gripping her bed rails so hard she almost tore the thing apart while her terrified husband looked on.

And so far, each reality TV birth that I’ve watched (or the parts that I’ve glimpsed when I’m not covering my face in horror) is more graphic, gruesome, bloody, and fluid-y than the next.

It’s like watching one of the Saw movies that takes place in a hospital. (Does one of those movies take place in a hospital? I don’t know. I would never subject myself to watching that stuff.)

It’s not beautiful or touching. It’s really, really scary.

And I think I know why:

It’s all part of a secret government plan to get lazy, shallow people to stop procreating!

Hear me out.

FACT: Americans are multiplying at an alarming and possibly unsustainable rate.

FACT: Most people who spend a lot of their time watching reality TV are not contributing a ton to society (yes, I realize I’m talking about myself here).

Why not target all of the women out there who enjoy watching (and maybe aspire to be) spoiled, whiny socialites and barrage them with horrifying footage of the painful, emotional, body-destroying process of child birth?

They will never, ever want to have children.

And that, my friends, is the point. Because the last thing this country needs is more vapid reality TV addicts.

Did I just blow your mind?

If I’m any proof, The Plan is working. In order to get to the point where I’m not terrified of having kids, I better stop watching Bravo and E! altogether. But that’s quite a sacrifice.

P.S. Readers, if I happen to conveniently “disappear” in the next couple of weeks, you’ll know what I’ve told you is TRUE…

P.P.S. Who watched the finale of The Bachelorette on Monday?? Love! Honor! Tropical paradise! A shirtless Roberto! No child births! It was pretty great. I’m going to go out on a limb and say that I have a good feeling about Ali and Roberto. (NOTE: I did NOT say that about Jake and Vienna.)

I feel you, Rihanna

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I took the day off today, everybody! This morning, while you’re sitting and staring at your computer screens, I’m sitting…staring…at my computer screen.

Balls.

I’m trying to do at least two blog posts a week, and while there are absolutely no consequences for not meeting that goal, that doesn’t stop me from giving myself a mental lashing and experiencing what I can only assume is similar to Catholic guilt. (Not to compare my wrath to that of God. I repeat, I am NOT comparing myself to God. I see myself as more of a Jesus. At least when it comes to footwear – love those gladiator sandals!)

The best thing about this lovely day off of mine is that I have absolutely no plans until 5 pm, at which time I will be escorted by my dashing tuxedo-clad husband to his cousin Nicole’s wedding (yay for love!). In the meantime, I plan to relax and thoroughly enjoy my time off.

Which means that I will spend the majority of the day sitting around and worrying that I’m not enjoying my time off enough.

This self-defeating attitude has already begun, as I am currently silently scolding myself while writing this very sentence (too many words! in my head! flying around!) for doing something that requires me to think and not tune out in a total state of relaxation.

It’s like I have an abusive relationship with my laptop – leaving it is easier said than done. (Cue that new Rihanna and Eminem song and picture me, in a defeated, crumpled heap on the floor while my computer towers over me. Slowly, I reach for the keyboard, tears streaming down my face… It’s alright because I like the way it hurts…)

Wow, that can’t be healthy.

So, I am hereby signing off from my computer today (this is not binding, by the way, and does not include my phone) and figuring out a better way to relax, away from the soft glow of technology, before I develop carpal tunnel and my retinas spontaneously detach themselves.

How about…NO, okay computer?

<i miss you already>