Who Needs a Pair of $200 Glitter Shoes?

Three weeks ago I found two simply amazing dresses for our two wedding receptions next year.  They are both stunning visions of raspberry pink, almond, cream, and snow.  (after writing that I have an overwhelming craving for raspberry almond snowcream!)  These dresses say “baby, you are special”, so I knew I had to have an equally special pair of shoes to go with these pieces.

Christian Louboutin Glitter Pump

Unfortunately, though, my champagne taste was quickly drowned by my water budget. It turns out the closest I was able to ever get to finding my equally special reception shoes was either by fussing over the ‘not perfect colour/style’ of shoes within my budget or by pining away at the ‘nearly, but still not perfect colour/style’ of shoes way outside of my budget.  Some pairs were the right colour, but not the right style.  Some would come close in colour and style, but be so expensive just looking at them would give Kasper a heart attack.  Eventually I started contemplating the idea of dying a pair of inexpensive shoes that sorta fit the look I wanted, but still I wasn’t satisfied.  What is a gal to do, y’all?

Now I admit it- I’m an extremely picky fashionista.  I will hem and haw over an outfit for a particular event for weeks, but the pay off is always there:  envious glances and awed compliments from men and women alike.  I want our receptions to be no different, folks.  Even though I am not wearing my wedding gown for these events, I still want to stand out and be the lovely bell of the ball.  Kasper doesn’t get it.  Mom doesn’t get it either, but some of you do.  Some of you understand my plight in not being able to find the perfect pair of shoes for these big days and have been extremely helpful.  I’ve received dozens of messages on Facebook, Twitter, and Pinterest  from ladies with ideas and comments on where to look for my perfect pair of shoes.  But it wasn’t until I made a suggestion to my friend Rebecca, whose cat gnawed her silver pumps into oblivion, that I found the perfect solution.

I have a few pairs of ‘great but ruined’ pumps in my collection and even though I can’t bring myself to wear them out any more I also can’t bring myself to chuck them either.  Some of them cost me a very pretty penny and others have sentimental value I just can’t toss away.  So when I suggested to Rebecca that she follow in Teresa’s footsteps (hehe!) and glitter-ize her kitty crunched stilettos I knew I had my answer to several problems.

A pair of lepoard print pumps I purchased long ago used to be a favourite of mine until the suede became damaged in several spots.  They are so comfortable, even for a full 4″ heel, so I couldn’t ever bring myself to throw them out even though I wouldn’t wear them either.  I knew, one day, I’d find a way to repurpose them and give them a new life.  Well, darlings, Monday was that day!  Following a combination of Teresa’s instructions and Geneva’s tutorials from pair and a spare, decided I’d give shoe glitter-izing a go.  I was also pretty lucky to have my friend, Nancy, help me with some pointers as I started.  For those of you who are interested in my process here’s what I did.  

• First I taped off my pumps around the soles and heels.  I feel pretty lucky that the pair I chose to glitterfy have chic wooden heels and platforms, making them easier for me to handle.  
• Second I mixed the two different glitter colours I chose to make the perfect seafoam/aqua green shade.  This ended up not being as difficult as I imagined it to be, but if I had it to do all over again I would have mixed the entire batch together at once to make it easier.  Making sure each glitter batch matched in tone and shade was an unnecessary hiccup.  
• After the glitter was mixed I then mixed a portion of the glitter and glue together to make a base adhesive.   
• With a paint brush (not sponge… sponge is bad) I liberally applied the glitter/glue to one shoe.  Make sure you have a thin mixture otherwise your glue will clump up and become a mess.  Unfortunately there is no ratio for this, just eye ball it and when you have a still runny, but glittery glue you are there.  
• Once the shoe was covered in the adhesive, I then generously doused the shoe in glitter and pressed the glitter into place with the back of a plastic spoon.  I worked in sections, pouring, pressing and then pouring the excess off each section until the entire shoe was covered.  This process gave me plenty of time to go over the shoe in detail, making sure the inside seam was well glittered and that the toe area was well covered, too.  
• I then repeated the two steps above to the remaining shoe.  The second time around it went faster as I felt more confident in my application and wasn’t so worried about accidentally rubbing off glitter glue.  
• After all was said and done I left the shoes to dry over night and came back the next morning and repeated the process again.  
• Periodically I would come back during the night and tap off any excess glitter that didn’t stick to the glue.  I found that by doing this I kept the glitter from clumping up during the following step.  
• Finally, after an entire day of drying I took the remaining glitter/glue mix and applied a light coat to both shoes and left them to dry again in order to seal the glitter into place.  This created a matte finish which, while nice, is not what I was going for.  I haven’t decided yet if I am gonna try another coat with a different sealant to get more glitz and glitter shine.  

And voilà!  A perfect pair of glitter pumps for less than $10 in supplies.  The original shoes cost me $65, four years ago, so I think I am getting my money’s worth.  Honestly the experience was a ton of fun, extremely rewarding and very satisfying.  Instead of giving in and paying nearly $200 for a pair of pumps that didn’t even meet my expectations, I created a new purpose for an old, beloved pair of worn shoes with little effort and are exactly what I want!  Who says you can’t have it all?  Now, with all this being said and done, and knowing now what I didn’t know then, there a few things I’d do differently:  With these leopard suede shoes I should have painted the material white first to make sure the spots didn’t ‘show’.  It really isn’t noticeable to anyone other than me, and it really doesn’t matter in the end, but when I do another pair in the future I’ll make sure I take that step.  Secondly, I would have ordered the perfect shade of glitter online instead of mixing my own.  Sure, I ended up with a perfect shade, but the fuss of mixing glitter has left my living room floor looking like the inside of of a drag queen’s jock strap.  Next time I’ll know better.  Also, make sure you don’t rely too much on the tape as a buffer.  Sure it will keep the glitter/glue from getting on areas you don’t want covered, but it is terribly difficult to remove without peeling up your hard work.  Oh and do note, if you don’t already know, that glitter comes in a variety of textures.  I opted for ultra fine for this project, but next time I might go for a chunkier texture for a different look.

So there you have it!  A perfect pair of pumps for the perfect pair of reception dresses!  I can hardly wait to wear them on our big days.  In fact- I won’t wait!  I think I’ll wear them on NYE for our big plans in the city.  Even if I do knock off a bit of glitter, at this rate, I can afford to glitterfy them all over again and still come out on top!  

It’s all just so fabulous, darlings!  

I Have PinFluenza…. I Think….

Get Ready, Get Set, PIN!

Oh you all know what I’m talking about.  It is a disease, a drug and a delight all rolled up into one precious package.  For those of you who don’t have any idea what I’m talking about, just saunder over here and we’ll see you again in a couple of days.  

Oh no, I have no qualms at all infecting others with PinFluenza.  Everyone should be so lucky to catch this bug.  Husbands, sons, boyfriends, fiancés- prepare to be the second best thing in the house for a while.  But then again you shouldn’t mind too much cause you’ll totally benefit from PinFluenza, too.  

So Pinterest is this totally amazing and completely addictive social “project board” on the interwebs.  It is very user friendly, extremely inspiring and tons of fun.  Women all over the world are finding exactly what they want for their weddings, holiday parties, birthday bashes, gift ideas, and DIY projects.  There are even pins and boards dedicated to exercise inspiration, every recipe known to man, and tips and tricks for photography you can usually only get by shelling out the big bucks.  Cleaning advice, house hold pointers for sprucing positively ANYTHING and so much more.  Pinterest is so addictive I have to set a timer for myself, of 15 mins at a time, so that I won’t spend hours on end just pinning and pining away.  

A blessing and a curse all in one, pinterest can give you endless ideas for anything you want to do, but first you have to pry yourself away from the site in order to achieve your goals.  The point of pinning is to give us a ‘one stop shop’ for so many ideas and things that can be found on the web, so that you don’t have to endlessly search page after page of search results.  Honestly I’m no good at explaining what Pinterest is all about, so here is a better way of putting it.  

So now that I’ve infected the lot of you, I’m gonna go DIY something for the wedding.  Misery loves company… but this is the best sort of misery– the misery of Pinterest!  Oh how the pins hurt so good!  

 

Chicken Pot Pie, Anyone?

Easy, peasy and oh so good!

This week, with all the cold and the excitement of the coming festivities, I wanted to make a few ‘stick to your ribs’ meals to keep us warm and happy.  I started out with a basic meatloaf with mash potatoes and broccoli and tonight I concocted an amazing, melt in your mouth chicken pot pie that was the easiest meal I’ve made in years.  All it takes is a crock pot, a few hours, your favourite veggies and chicken bits and two pie shells and voilà- instant homemade goodness!

Homemade, Crock Pot Chicken Pot Pie

3-4 chicken breasts (with rib meat)
4-5 potatoes, diced
A small can of corn nibblets
A can of green beans
A can of mixed peas & carrots
A can of cream of celery
1/2 cup of chicken stock
A handfull herbs de provence
2 garlic cloves, minced
2 pre-made pie shells, in tins
Salt and pepper to taste

Now all of my ingredients were as low sodium as I could find, which is my preference, but get what you can and want.

Basically, take the first 9 ingredients and throw them in your large crock pot for 6 hours on high.  Once the chicken is cooked through, shred it and add it back to the pot.  Preheat your oven to 400°.  Simmer the stewed ingredients on low until the majority of the liquid is boiled off.  Follow the instructions on the pie shells package for making a double pie crust.  Prick the entire bottom crust with a fork and add the crock pot ingredients to the shell.  Cover the pie with the remaining crust, seal the edges together and cut slits in the top crust.  Add salt and pepper to the top crust and bake in the oven on a cookie sheet for 45 mins or until the crusts are golden brown.  Brush butter on the crust if you want an extra touch of flavour, but it isn’t really needed.  Let the pie cool for about 10 mins and cut into four pieces.  Enjoy!  You will have plenty of filling left over, so save it and eat it straight or load another double shell and freeze it to bake it off later.  

So easy, and so good.  Kasper even went back for seconds… but then again he always does that.  Let me know what you think, y’all.  

Easy (Healthy) Tomato Chicken & Ravioli Soup

Yummy and Easy Soup

1 Can of diced Tomatoes

1 Box of Trader Joe’s Tomato and Roasted Pepper Soup

A large hand full of basil

A heaping table spoon of crushed red pepper flake (or sub in black pepper if you want a more mild soup)

A dash and a half of garlic powder

1 Can of shredded Chicken Breast

1/2 family size package of 4 cheese Ravioli

Combine first 5 ingredients in a large sauce pot and simmer for 10 mins. Add chicken, stir well and simmer for another 5 mins. Reduce heat to low and gently drop in ravioli pasta one at a time stirring frequently and gently.  Simmer another 5-10 mins.  Viola!  Healthy and yummy dinner!  Add grilled cheese for a well rounded meal.  

Freedom Begins Here!

Here is a copy of the letter which will effectively sever all my ties with the evil empire known as Bank of America tomorrow morning when it hits the post box.  Huzzah for the little man!  

Bank of America
Account Closure
Tampa, Florida

Dear Bank of America Representative:

This letter is a written document to request full closure of all of my bank accounts with Bank of America.  I no longer wish to have anything to do with this company in any way.  I have withdrawn all of my money, what little I have left, and moved my business to USAA.  There will be no need for you to handle my account closures in any way other than swiftly and completely.

Not that any one in this company will care about why I am closing my accounts, but just in case someone human is reading I no longer feel Bank of America has their customers’ best interest at heart.  I can no longer sit idle, working hard every day to keep what little money I have in my pocket, while Bank of America works just as hard at taking that hard earned money from me.  It also disturbs me greatly that recently my account information was compromised within your data base, but I was never notified of this breech of safety other than to have a new card show up on my door step with no word as to why.  The decent thing to do would have been to notify me immediately of the suspected breech, even by automated message at least, to let me know what was coming.  Bank of America’s handling of this situation was horrid and conducted with extremely poor form.

I know Bank of America doesn’t care about me as a person and my account closures won’t amount to even a blip on the radar.  I know I am just one customer in a sea of millions, most of whom might not have any issue with the blatant faults this company has.  Even so, all I know is I will sleep a little easier tonight knowing my money is out of BoA’s hands and that means the world to me.

Here’s to one person standing up and saying “no more”.

Good luck,

Brandy Nicole G.

Little Person

This or That, But Not Both

I really need to remember to write notes when I’m happy.  Everyone is gonna think I’m always pissed, if I don’t, and that’s not a true representation of who I am.  But that’s just it: when I’m happy I really don’t need to express myself outwardly.  When everything feels nice and good, there isn’t really a reason to blab.  So, here I am.  

FYI:  For those of you who really don’t want to listen to me complain, go look at our engagement photos or something.  The next few moments of my life are gonna be dedicated to my need to let off a little steam here.  Consider yourself warned.  Oh, and I’m not gonna be very polite, so all you delicate flowers might need to avert your eyes, too.

Basically it comes down to one thing.  I made a choice and I don’t, in ANY way, regret it.  I just wish, sometimes, that there wasn’t a reason to *have* to choose, you know?  In vain I wish that both my worlds could live in harmony and that the distance between them both wasn’t so vast.  I try not to let unanswered calls and texts and messages bother me, but in the end I know that the life I once had is entirely over and in its place is this strange new and completely complicated world full of rules and obligations I never thought I’d have to master or live up to.  The me of a year ago wouldn’t recognise the me of today and sometimes I wonder if that is a good thing or not.  

*sigh*

I really don’t like this town.  I hate to say it, but after nearly 4 months of trying to find a niché to fit into, most of the time all I can ever think about is why I left my small, rural hometown to begin with.  The minds here are so small, so black and white, so conservative.  It’s oppressive, stiffing, and painful.  I find myself suddenly clinging desperately to causes that I’ve always supported before with luke warm interest because I desperately need to feel attached to something- anything.  But even within those exceedingly small sects and groups in this area there is a wariness of outsiders and newcomers.  My eagerness to belong is like a neon scarlet “E” emblazoned on my chest and my voice is an instant signal to all that I’m foreign in this land and should be mocked and/or shunned.  

And I’ll say this too: I’m fucking sick and tired of hearing about the goddamned cold here!  I sodding well know it gets nasty in these parts and it’s “serious business”, that cold, yeah- you betcha!  *eyeroll*  But honest to goodness it feels like the natives here have nothing better to do than trying to scare the southern daffodil.  Like being able to endure Midwestern winters is a badge of honour.  *phft*  Let me tell you, folks, head down to Atlanta in the middle of July with no air conditioning… THEN we’ll talk endurance.  Fuck your cold.  

So I throw myself into wedding planning or DIY ideas for the house and gifts for the holidays.  I try to drown my loneliness with reception ideas and paint swatches and pinterest, but I still find myself wishing I had someone to go shopping with- like Noel, or Lauren.  I pine for pasta at Eatz and conversation with Rebecca, or for climbing and late night dinner with Tony and Doc and the gang.  I miss getting all dolled up for play parties and socializing with amazing people who are unique and beautiful and wonderfully fractured in the most amazing and awesomely accepting ways.  People who don’t look at me strange or feed the uncomfortable silences when I talk about who I am and what makes me tick.  The only real acceptance I have here comes from Kasper and I am so scared I am wearing his patience thin with my loneliness.

*deep breath*

I want to come home, but I want to bring Kasper and Noam with me to Atlanta and have a house in *gasp all you ITPers* Decatur or Dunwoody and enroll Noam in a great Montessori school and be able to have a part time job I can actually survive on, and be a functioning- financially contributing member of our family and still maintain being a house wife for the most part.  

*gasp*

But that is never gonna happen.  We are always gonna live in Fargo/Moorhead.  We are always gonna be tethered to this area and I am, more than likely, always gonna be an outsider.  I’m gonna always say “y’all” and always ask for sweet tea before remembering such a concoction is an abomination here.  I’m never again gonna live in a place where the sweat runs down my back the second I walk outside- where every moment spent in the shade or in a breeze is like a gift from God himself.  I’m never gonna live *HOURS* from a beach ever again.  The days of impromptu car trips to the coast for a “dip” are gone, replaced by vast expanses of flat, flat, flat nothingness in every direction;  where you can easily see 60 miles everywhere you look with no rise of any kind to impede your line of sight.  No, folks, I am here for the duration.  For love- the greatest reason of all, but still it comes at a cost.  

I can have this… or I could have that… but not both.

No matter what, though, I’ll always take this.

Want Muffins?

Win Your M-I-L over Banana Muffins

Banana Muffins

3 or 4 Large bananas, mashed (the more bananas the moister, so I use 4)

1/2 cup white sugar (original recipe calls for 1 cup, but I don’t like them too sweet)

1 slightly beaten egg

1/3 cup melted margarine or butter

1 teaspoon baking soda

1 teaspoon baking powder

1/2 teaspoon salt

1 1/2 cups flour

For the entire recipe go here

Tolerance and the Misanthropic Mind

Last week I found myself standing on the tolerance side of a casual argument.  I often take the tolerance stance in most cases. Its what I’ve been taught all my life.  Compassionate understanding and acceptance is an easy enough concept to “teach”, but it isn’t always an easy concept to learn or adopt.

Unfortunately, even though I basically have a tolerant mind-set, I am not a tolerant person by any means.  Simply put:  I am a hypocrite– a misanthrope who wishes everyone else would just “get wise” and live how I want them to live, drive like I want them to drive, speak how I want them to speak… you get the picture.  I get angry when people park on my street when they aren’t supposed to, frustrated with my boss for being stupidly over protective of her own child and regularly I become indignant when life’s circumstances happen to catch me in an off mood.  What a way to live, ehe?

Only recently have I become aware of my self-applied double standards and how very unhappy this way of living has been making me.  Someone once told me that it takes more effort to be unhappy than it does to be happy.  It is an interesting notion, but is it really true for those of us who have learned, either by default or by association, to always see the glass as half empty?

I watched a program with Michael J Fox a few weeks ago and I suppose I started wondering all this then.  You see, Fox believes that you are born either optimistic or not.  That its in your genes, your DNA, whether or not you are predisposed to being happy or depressed– tolerant or misanthropic .  So looking back on my life– at my mother and my father– at the hand I’ve been dealt or dealt myself, depending, I still can’t decide if its all up to me or if it really is just in me to be a “debbie downer”.

While I still don’t have the answer, and true to my form I don’t think I will have an answer any time soon, I am sure that I am not going to wait around another 30 years to do anything about it.  I think the most important thing is to try to change.  To constantly strive to be what you want– isn’t that what life is all about in the end?  I might very well be pushing a boulder up a mountain side, but at least they can carve it into my tomb stone that the leopard tried to change its spots.

philanthropic

I’m not who I was

Living behind some sort of masks has always been my greatest talent in life.  Being what someone else wanted me to be, living up to someone else’s expectation- whether outwardly applied or self-contrived- was an art I mastered at a very young age.  I thought living for others and, often, living a lie made me happy.  Sometimes the illusion of happiness was so great, people believed I was blissfully happy.  Other times the reality of the emptiness was so overwhelming, the rubber band of my life would snap back, and as a result I would act out selfishly and alienate others in the process.  My life was often a very viscous and destructive roller coaster with no end.  With few admirers and even fewer true friends, my life was a cyclical torrent that you could barely call an existence, but, for some reason, I did.  This, my friends, is who I was.

It takes a lot for me to say those few sentences; a lot for me to admit who I used to be was a painfully self-abused and tortured soul.  As a proud person, it is never easy to come to the conclusion that you were wrong.  Its even harder to admit it out loud.  Yet, that is exactly what I am doing.   I am now taking time to reflect on what I was… what I can often still be, and what I am striving daily to change and correct.  Some one very special and wise once said:”Its not so much the actual change that you create, but the constant attempt to create it that matters” .  I’m not trying to be perfect any more.  I’m trying, instead, to not be so angry for no reason.  Trying to channel my energy into positive outlets and rewarding avenues.  I am going to stumble and fall.  I am going forget, all together at times, what my goal is.  But so long as I continue to put one foot in front of the other, I am going get there some day.

Sadly, these changes are not going suit everyone in my life.  Because of these changes and the accompanying ever evolving self-awareness, some friendships are going fade away while others are going to grow into full and loving support systems.  The hardest part will be letting go of what is no longer healthy and recognizing what is beneficial.  I tend to stay in what is comfortably complacent even if it happens to be a bed of nails because change scares me.  But that train of thought has gotten me no where fast so far and I’ve only got “up to grow”, right?  So with a chest full of air, and a spirit full of hope I am fighting my way to the surface.  The waters might be choppy and rough, but at least it will be a bright and happy reality instead of a diluted and painful fantasy.

I’m not who I was any more, but I’m excited to find who I might turn out to be.

Man In the Mirror

Under Construction

Please mind your step while we are tidying up. While we are redecorating, please view this for your pleasure.

Thank you.

Gigi