8.27

We had a baby free WedSpag last night! I'm not sure where Sam and Amy were (most likely guarding their crops) but Diane and Lily had to take their poor dog Jessie to the vet ER because Jessie was sick. She was diagnosed with Lyme's Disease. All the more reminder to check yerself before you wreck yerself. Parasites scare me.
Jake decided he couldn't stay in our house without his dad so he went our for some man time.
Lauren got in a car wreck but is doing pretty well save for a few bumps and bruises.
Melanie had to go to a dinner at the restaurant she used to work at, so she and Jules were MIA too. Leigh Anne was at the park, I think, enjoying the second-to-last free concert in Rittenhouse before the season ends and I have no idea where the hell Hope was. Probably slaving for the devil, as she always is. Rich people blow.

So, it was just me, Samantha, and Kate and we got to talk about boys and sex and periods and stuff. Good times.

Speaking of periods, I am on my first pack of Yaz. You know, the birth control pill for the mentally unstable? We'll see how I do this month. What do you use to stop babies from growing all up in your guts?

Help to Maintain My Sanity

I have some road rage. And some idiot rage. And a scosh of irritation rage. Basically if you are driving like a fool, inconsiderate of other people on the road, act like an idiot on a regular basis (and not just randomly because we all do that), or you are a flat our irritating person (i.e., my brother's wife, the woman at work whose laugh sounds like she just swallowed broken glass, or the girl at work who can't seem to form a complete sentence) you tend to frustrate/irritate me a bit.

Now, I try and let this not get to me. Noting that they are not doing it to me, but are just being themselves and it is me that is allowing them to have control over me by allowing it to irritate me. So, obviously I was listening in my psychology/sociology classes.

But here is the rub. I am pregnant. At least as far as I know. We have a Dr. appt. on September 4th. Hope to hear the heartbeat so I can put my mind at ease. As a pregnant woman, apparently my hormones are doing double duty.

For those of you that have a sweeter disposition than I....any suggestions for how to calm the F* down? I am open to anything. I haven't ever been much of a Yoga person, but will give it a shot if someone swears by it. Any ideas ladies?

Hope your spaghetti was exceptionally yummy last night!
Thanks in advance, and the Austin area thanks you too. And possibly my husband too.

Help! I'm a frizzy mess.

I'd like to ask you lovely ladies for some hair care advice.

When I came home from the salon last week, my hair was smooth and shiny. My newly cut layers fell around my face in a sultry, Victoria's Secret Angels kind of way. I tried to preserve this look as long as posisble, but eventually I had to wash my hair. (I won't tell you how many days I waited.)

Thanks to my serious lack of styling skills, my beautiful haircut is now a dull, flat, frizzy mess. Ok, it's not that bad. But I definitley need help.

I suck at blowing my hair out and need any tips you can offer. I think I need a new brush. I use the cheapest mousse I can find for blowdrying and Pantene heat protectant for flat ironing. I am considering buying curlers, but I don't know how to use them.

Please help!

Lora,

I'm sure I speak for the entire Wednesday Spaghetti crew when I say thank you for creating this blog. You are always so thoughtful!

Charm City

This weekend I discovered a fabulous little Italian deli in my neighborhood, and thanks to Di Pascale’s plump meatballs and garlicky gravy, I am finally ready to accept “Charm City” as my home.

When I first made the “big move” two years ago, I drove back to Philly almost every weekend. But, as gas prices started going up, my trips became less and less frequent.

At first, I desperately missed Philadelphia. I missed the way Philadelphia’s pedestrians politely ignore one another when passing on the street. I paid a couple of hefty traffic tickets for turning left on red and nearly caused accidents doing the “south Philly slide” through stop signs in Baltimore. Store clerks glared at me when I refused to engage in small talk. I cringed each time I heard a Baltimorean say “Bawdmore” or “Warsh.” I longed for hoagies with “gabagool” and “prociutt’” on fresh baked bread from Dinardo’s and hand-made “muzzarel” braids from Mancuso’s. Ahhh....

While I still have a special place in my heart for Philly, I think I am finally beginning to “adjust” to my new life in Bmore. I have learned to give a “nod” when I walk past someone on the street and to comment on the weather while the convenient store clerk rings up my purchase. I’ve really begun to appreciate Baltimore’s “small town, regular person” feel, and I love how unpretentious Baltimore’s nightlife scene is. (Even our martini bars aren’t snooty :) And, now that I’ve found Di Pascale’s Italian deli, I feel complete again. Funny how something so simple can make a person feel at home.

Meatballs and Cat Pee

How about that for a blog post title? Since I live in Texas, and am unable to participate in Spaghetti Wednesdays the least I can do is post an obscure blog about nonsense and such.
Last things first. My 16 year old cat has decided that she is anti litter box and has started to relieve herself on the rug underneath our kitchen table. So much so that I am taking it to be professionally cleaned immediately tomorrow in hopes of saving it. But how to make her stop? No idea.

In nicer thoughts.....I have a recipe for meatballs that is to die for. So, here is the recipe for the sinful meatballs, if you ever choose to add them to your noodles and sauce.
Pre-heat oven to 325.
mix 1 lb. lean ground beef with the following:
1 egg
1.5 packets of dry spaghetti sauce mix
1/2 cup breadcrumbs
pinch of salt
pinch of pepper

mush together, forms balls, put on a flat apparatus and bake in the oven for 25-30 minutes.
Place in sauce and allow all to warm and mix together into a glorious package.

And if, while making this scrumptious addition to your Spaghetti Wednesdays, you can come up with a solution to our cat problem. It would be much appreciated.

Second Time Around...

Jake taught Sam the ins and outs of baseball. Sam seems to be destined for hockey, though. Jake kept asking me to pitch to him, but when it was Sam's turn he would put the ball on the ground and take a slap shot.

Does it make me an unfit mother that I was taking photos on the drive home? I didn't actually look into the shutter. I just held the camera up on the dash and clicked away. The sunset was crazy, and this photo doesn't do it justice.

See you next time!

Sam & Jake

We have only attended Spaghetti Wednesday once, but we're planning on going again and again. But it's not just the good food and fun lady friends that have got me yearning to parallel park my uber-suburban station wagon somewheres in south Philly.

No, it's these two boys. Sam & Jake. Jake & Sam.

For almost three days after our first Spaghetti Wednesday adventure Sam would ask to go to 'new Jake's home' relentlessly. (He has a third cousin twice removed named Jake who has also made quite an impression on him. Therefore this Jake is 'new' Jake.) They are totally going to be bffs if their mamas have any say in it. I'm guessing we do, because until they are like, 17 or something we'll be the ones hauling their little asses around.

Only when he's 17 I'll make him do the parallel parking. It'll be good practice for his driver's exam.

hello!

Because I feel the need to have a blog for everything, I thought maybe this would be one more way to keep in touch. Anyone can join, just so long as they are part of the Secret Spaghetti Society. Maybe this would be a good place to post questions and answers and tips and tricks about everything we talk about at WedSpag. Books, boys, booze, kids, neighbors, friends, food, pets, periods, parents, crappy girls who would never be invited to join, crappy housework that has to get done or else people will thing we are gross, and anything else that happens to come up.

Most WedSpaggers live pretty far away from the home office here in Philly, but they shouldn't be punished by missing out on the good stuff.