Friday Blog Love

I was hipped to the following favorite blog by dbs several months ago.  She's pretty funny, especially if you were born in the late seventies/early eighties...with all the right TV references.

nos•to•ma•ni•a /nos-tuh-mey-nee-uh/ n. an overwhelming homesickness; a passion for nostalgia

This is one of my favorite posts about 1980's Nickelodeon TV redheads gingers.

Minnesota Bound

The Summer and Kady show is about to end.  Tomorrow, we get on a plane to Minneapolis to attend the wedding of some friends, and then...Summer returns to Oro Valley and then back to Michigan and I travel way up to the Canadian border to sling some burgers and beers and hang out with these people:

In order to experience a little Arizona before we leave permanently, my blog stalker turned friend Lisa drove us up to one of the mountains just an hour from our house.  We wanted to see the snow...perhaps to prepare for the upcoming Minnesota winter.  I'm not kidding.  These photos were taken in Arizona.  One hour from our house.

Don't worry!  Summer and I will be reunited in January when we both return to Minneapolis, she for a semester at school and I to cover a maternity leave at my old job.

Owling...it's the rich man's planking.

Laotongs?

Tonight Summer and I watched Snow Flower and the Secret Fan. You may remember I read that book when I was traveling.

It's about the relationships between female best friends.  While we were watching it, I asked Summer if she was my laotong?  And she said, "I don't think so.  I don't think we're the laotong type."

According to Wikipedia, laotong "is a type of relationship within Chinese culture, which was practised in Hunan, that bonded two girls together for eternity as kindred sisters...the Laotong or "Old-Sames" relationship was the most precious friendship bond...the bond was for life...Laotong would frequently develop a language to use to communicate between them that only they could understand (a type of Nu shu), allowing them to send messages back and forth to one another."

Summer and I have been friends for a really long time.  Seven years probably.  Acquaintances for much longer.  But the truth is, we have only maybe hugged four times.  (And one of those was because a co-worker brought donuts to work last week.)

Good friends.  Best friends.  But not always in the purest sense of the word.

The spring that I was training for a triathlon, I decided to do my swim in Lake Nokomis, and then bike over to Summer's place in St. Paul because she had recently sprained her ankle.  It was bad.  Real bad:

Actual photo of Summer's ankle.

She was pretty happy to see me, being a complete shut-in.  We talked and visited for a while and she asked if I would take her to the library so she could get a bunch of movies to watch.  "Sure," I said, "but I ain't going in.  Not dressed like this."

And so, dear readers, I made my laotong go into the library by herself and rent a bunch of movies.  It was only when she came hobbling out, crutches and all, struggling not to drop all five movies and her purse and the crutches that I very reluctantly got out of the car and helped her.  But -- come on.  I was dressed like this:

I'm sure you can imagine the maxi pad butt.

The other day I jumped out of the car to grab something from the back.  Since it was cold and raining, I was trying to hurry.  But the back was locked.  I did the usual *knock* on the back hatch, to signal that it was locked and needed unlocking.  This is a common occurrence, and usually the driver would then just unlock the door, but on this day, I was the driver and Summer was in the passenger seat, unaware that she could unlock right from her seat.  She thought the only unlock button was in the driver's seat.  I squinted, peering through the freezing rain at her, where she sat, shrugging her shoulders.  Unwilling to reach the 18 inches across to the drivers' side to hit the button.

Maybe we're not laotongs.  But we're definitely 'old-sames'.

Summer-isms, Vol. 21

"Let's go to a different bathroom to sponge bathe in.  I don't like this Wal-Mart water.  It's too hot."

"It's like we're starting a whole new life on the other side of the parking lot where nobody knows us."

"That's me talking to my burrito."

"Granted, it was my skinniest week ever."

"That was years ago.  I sold insurance back then."

"I just thought I was thirty five."

Car Camping

One great way to save money on a road trip is to just sleep in your car.  Especially if you somehow luck out and your company lets you drive around in an SUV and you can fold the seats down and make the hugest. best. cushion. bed. ever.

It's all bed, baby.

Which is exactly what Summer and I did when we road-tripped it up to Sedona and the Grand Canyon.

Of course you can pretty much pull over anywhere you want to and sleep, but there are places that make more sense, like State Parks and Wal-mart parking lots.  I mention Wal-Mart parking lots for a couple of reasons:

• Open 24 Hours
• Lots of RVs and campers doing the same thing.  Safety!
• Bathrooms!

There is a downside of course, and that's bright lights and loud noises.  Nothing a little sleeping mask and earplugs can't take care of if you prepare yourself!

We spent our first night in Sedona and slept soundly under the stars in a State Park lot, where we paid $5 for a 24-hour pass.  No bright lights, no noise.  Gas station with Redbox and a nice bathroom right up the street.  Perfect. And this was our view when we woke up:

The second night was spent at a Flagstaff Wal-Mart.  Everything went off without a hitch, (after Summer shooed the drunk old man away).  We parked right next to a family sleeping in their camper and slept soundly until morning, when we freshened up in the nice clean bathrooms.

The third night was a little less perfect.  We drove to Phoenix, punched a Wal-Mart into the GPS and arrived at one whose late-night clientele left us feeling a little less than cozy.  Also the bathrooms were gross.  We decided to pull to the very edge of the parking lot next to where they sell the Christmas trees behind the chain link fence.  That ended up being a tactical error because at 7am, when the Christmas tree shop opened up, we were parked right in front of the doors, and I was awakened by the sound of a gruff salesman asking a customer, "What? Did they move in?"  And then Summer and I stared at each other, mortified, trying to look invisible until they walked away and then Summer jumped into the driver's seat and drove us around the corner to Target.

We got ready there instead.  After Summer left the Target bathroom, I realized I wasn't going to be able to make it one more day without washing my hair, and it was so early in the morning and nobody was in there, and I brought shampoo and conditioner and they had an air dryer for your hands...  I decided to wash my hair in the tiny, tiny sink.

I couldn't help but feel like I was doing something really, really wrong.  Like I was going to be busted and kicked out of Target at any moment.  I was almost done when a little old lady came into the bathroom with a walker.  I said to her, "just pretend this isn't happening," as I wrapped my sopping wet hair up and grabbed all my stuff out of the handicapped stall so she could use it.  At first she seemed irritated...but kept talking to me as she used the restroom and I finished up with my conditioner and drying with the air hand dryer.   I nervously explained that we were on a road trip and didn't have bathroom facilities.  She said, "well this is the cleanest bathroom in town, I don't blame you for coming here.  You know, I like to come here to the Target bathroom and then go do my shopping at Wal-Mart."

I began to suspect that she thought I was homeless because she asked me several times, "Do you need help?  Is there anything I can help you with?"  And as she left the bathroom she cautiously and hesitantly said, "have a safe and happy life."

Sunday Favorites

From the archives:

FRIDAY, NOVEMBER 5, 2010

Living with your Male Cousin

I lived with my cousin Ryan for a lot of years, and one of the things about him was that he didn't have a ton of experience living with women.  Take for example the time that he gave me the silent treatment for about a week.  I couldn't take it anymore, and so finally I asked him, "What the heck is going on with you?" And he blurted out, "I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU WOULD PUT A BLOODY PAD IN THE GARBAGE!!" I was like, "what are you TALKING about?!" (I don't even use pads.) And then after much consideration, I realized that it was because he mistook the cotton ball I used to remove my red nail polish and then threw in the bathroom garbage for a discarded bloody pad.

I had to explain to him, that seriously, first of all: actual bloody period pads are not 2 1/2" in diameter, circular-shaped items.  Secondly they do not have a tiny smidge of bright red on them.  (In actuality, the red doesn't stay bright red, it turns gross brown immediately.)  Secondly, if I'm making chore charts to ensure that the carpet is getting vacuumed regularly, and washer-and-dryer are being wiped down twice monthly, I'm just not a likely candidate for someone who would leave a bloody pad, face-up in the garbage for all to see. 

Perhaps I should have used a huge piece of note-paper, as Ryan did one morning to notify me of a special present he had left behind:

"Dearest Cousin Kady, Beneath this lid you will find a log of gigantic proportions.  If you do not wish to view this atrocity, please flush and go about your normal day." 

Me and Cousin Ryan.  So innocent before the pad conversation.

Pro-Soap? YES.

This week I'm totally obsessed with Soap.  Don't laugh, those of you who know me well.  I been showering every day, thank you very much.  (Stupid job.)  

Anyway, I bought some Hairy Sasquatch Shave Bar and my Fireweed, Lavender, Geranium soap from the lovely Brittany at Pro-Soap Propaganda on Etsy!  Thank you, Brittany (also a blogger at Pro-Soup Propaganda).  Your wonderful shave bar makes me actually want to shave my legs.

Laziness and Cheaphood dictated the use of regular bar soap in the past when I shaved, so I really can't make any comparisons for the Shave Bar vs. Shave Gel, but I will say that it doesn't get too lather-y, and is nice and thick and smells SO GOOD.

The Fireweed, Lavender, Geranium soap is really awesome because it has lots of scratchies in it.  This is perfect for Arizona where there is absolutely no humidity and my skin gets so dry and itches all the time.  I get in the shower and that bar acts like a great big scratching post.  It feels so good.  And ooh, it smells yummy too!

How adorable is this packaging?

Shave bar on top, Fireweed, Lavender and Geranium on bottom.

These scratchies are amazing.

Check out Brittany's blog.  She's Pro-Soup, she knows how to make lots of stuff, and she's from Ketchikan, Alaska!  (Only really interesting and lovely ladies come from there.)

Make sure to enter coupon code "HEYLADY", because she's offering my readers a 10% discount!  

Friday Blog Love

Today's Friday Blog Love is coming from inside the house!  AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH!!!

Three Words:

Hobo Siren

Home of Kadyisms.  And a couple other worthwhile posts.  

Check her out.

It's Time for Feminist Ryan Gosling Again...

Click on the photo for more Feminist Ryan Gosling.

Blah Blah Blog

Exciting things are happening over here at A Lady Reveals Nothing!  You may have noticed my cool new header designed by Kim from Hip Hop Side Project.  You can check out her blog here:

She also created several badges for me.  Steal one for your blog!

Here's how:  Copy the the HTML code in yellow beneath your favorite badge below.  Within your blog, simply go to Design/Layout/Add Gadget. Then select HTML/Javascript. You won't need a title.  Just paste the text in the big box.  It's that COMPLICATED SIMPLE! 

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The Joke is Only as Good as the Payoff

I once was going to buy some gross purple and gold Minnesota Vikings' Zubaz-style pants for my brother-in-law Ben, knowing he would find them hilarious, and even wear them every day, just to keep the joke going.  But then I saw that they cost $10, and decided the joke just wasn't worth the price tag.  So instead, I told Ben about it and we laughed and laughed.  For free!

_____

And then other times, 'free' jokes take tons of time and the payout isn't worth it.

Take for example this Batman mask I saw on the back of my Cinnamon Toast Crunch.  It took me FOREVER to cut it out.  (Covertly, in my bathroom, during commercial breaks from 30 Rock reruns).  My plan was to somehow nonchalantly surprise Summer as Batman.  Well then she went to bed and my surprise didn't really happen.  Do you have any idea how hard it is to cut out the eye holes on these things?

Sometimes the most hilarious part of the joke is the time it takes to bomb.

I have an idea for a new iPhone photo app...

Have you ever put tons of effort into what you thought would be a wildly hilarious joke and then...crickets?

"She Doesn't Know He's There"

I can't watch this video without crying from laughing so hard.

Sunday Favorites: Becks and Hex

New to A Lady Reveals Nothing?  You've missed SO MUCH.  Not to worry.  Every Sunday, I dig through the archives to repost an old favorite.  Mostly because I'm too lazy to come up with new content every single day.  Enjoy!  This story first appeared on July 10, 2011:

Becks...more like Hex

Well, it seems that Victoria Beckham has had her baby girl. Just prior, her husband David "secretly" took this professional, gorgeous photo of her looking extremely great while pregnant. I have my doubts about the spontaneity of the photo, but that's not the point of the story.

Posh Belly

*David always texts me photos of the kids, its adorable. (I ripped it from E!'s website.)

Sorta reminds me of somebody I know:

Pot Belly

Grand Canyon Photo Shoot

Tyra Mail!

"We're going to the GRAND CANYON!  This is your best chance to be FIERCE ladies.  I want jeans, I want little to no make up.  I want wind-blown hair and $2 Target gloves.  I want sweaters and scarves and try to look cold!"

"Perfect, Kady, now...lose the sunglasses."

"Yes, yes that's right...but stop squinting your eyes.  Use the trees!"

"Great.  Now, less tree, more EMOTION."

"Now I want to see you get low.  Really, get down there."

"MMmmmhmmmm....boooo-tay.

Fierce."

"Maybe a little less butt."

"OK.  Perfect, now don't forget about that tree."

"No, don't hide behind it!"

"We're losing daylight here, folks.  We might have to wrap early."

"One more, just in case."

"I'm sorry, Kady.  You are no longer in the running to be America's Next Top Model."

Friday Blog Love, Vol. 2

Sending a little blog love to Sarah Lindahl of So...What Else?  Her younger sister Beth and I were besties in high school.  Sarah and I have been blog friends since we both started writing a little over three years ago.  I have read every single post she's ever written, and I'll read every single post she'll ever write.

She's hilarious, she's a teacher, she's snarky and super smart.  And she awarded me and four others but mostly me The Versatile Blogger award!!

This is my favorite post on her blog.


No, wait, this is my favorite post.


Check out this hilarious series about things her daughter Kira says in the car.


She has an unhealthy and possibly romantic obsession with a deceased man.

I also like this post a lot. Probably because it's all about me.


And this one is fun.  (About me, again).

Hanky Planking

My first attempt at planking...I think I'm doing it wrong?

Grand Canyon

FYI: It's really hard to plank when you're laughing this HARD.

Port-a-Potty = PORTABLE POTTY

What is your worst port-a-potty fear?  Besides dropping your sunglasses/wallet on the wet floor?

Or worse?

My sister Kim had been working all day at an auction as a teenager, and finally got the chance to go pee at the end of the day.  She sat down...and then felt the building move.  Apparently the guy had connected the biffy up to his truck and was getting ready to drive away with her in it!

She said, "thank gooness he heard my screams and stopped.  He then hollered through the wall that he'd already taken the toilet paper out and asked if I wanted some."

She was like, NO THANKS.  (Rather than throw open the door.)

Ha!  That's my two worst fears in the port-a-potty.  No toilet paper.  And being taken away with the poop-and-pee filled building.  *Slosh.*

Fear of Getting Caught

In San Diego, it's illegal to drink alcohol on the beach.

"WHAT?!????" You might be thinking, and I agree.

What else is there to do at the beach in Southern California?  Besides drink alcohol and make a bonfire?

...Work out?

Click on the photo of sand on MM's body for credit.

Yah.  No.

Well, in 2008, my friends and I did all of that. But we were clandestine.  We put our wine in styrofoam cups.  Gross!  (Desperate times call for desperate measures.)  But that's not the point of this story.

The point of this story is how when you're doing something "ILLEGAL"...and you're normally a RULE FOLLOWER...like me...you freak out when the five-oh drive by and you could just be NORMAL but because you're doing something ILLEGAL you're afraid you might crack and blurt out something like,  "WE'RE DRINKING WINE!" 

But you restrain yourself.  Because.  You're COOL.

Us.  Wine.  Styrofoam cups.  Me.  Resisting the urge to OUT ourselves to the Po Po in the white truck.

Yah...  You're cool like that.