A-drin Amy

At the beginning of the week I talked about my promiscuous tree, so let's get back to the theme of sluts and hookers and talk about Adrian, MN.

I kid.  I'm sure the residents there are lovely.  It's just that growing up 12 miles away in Luverne led to a high level of competitiveness and judgement of the girls down Interstate 90. They wore more make-up, were pretty and just too close to our dating pool.

Back then, we didn't know how to handle that inexplicable hormonal urge for teenage drama so we took it to the streets. 30 miles the opposite direction on Interstate 90 to the streets of Sioux Falls, SD.  When we'd cruise the loop on a crisp Su Fu fall evening yelling cat calls out the car window at pubescent Midwest lookers, we had many a conversation that went something like this:

Leah McMinor:  Hey Baby!  You lookin' for a good time? <insert chest shimmy-shake>

Freddy McFarmboy:  You know it! <Not watching the traffic ahead of him on 10th Street>

Leah McMinor:  Stop by sometime.  We're from Adrian! <Speed away in red Lumina>

Now that we have besmirched the character of my friends and I, back to the topic at hand.  Dear friend Amy grew up in Luverne, went to college in Minneapolis, then moved to Denver. There she met and fell in love with a man who grew up in...

You guessed it. Adrian.  Her wedding was this past September.

Before the wedding was a rockin' bachelorette party.  I wanted to make something 'special' for that festivity that melded the awesomeness of Amy's Luverne youth with the realization that she was joining Team Adrian. Considering Amy worked the pompoms in high school, the best I could think of was a risque vintage 1998 Adrian Dragons cheer uniform.

Unfortunately, and quite obviously, I had not fostered a relationship with any Adrian Dragons from my girlhood. Not even a facebook friend. I had to scour Amy's friend list just to see if there were any names I recognized. Recognized from Leah McMinor hooting them out the window at Freddy.

Luckily, some of those beautiful Adrian souls helped me out with this senior picture:

and this yearbook picture:

Shiza. What do they call that formation?!  The Come and Get It?  The Spread Em? The Crotc--Oh Goodness me.  I'm so sorry.  It is so hard to turn it off sometimes. 

I got to work sewing something similar to what is shown above except with a lower neckline, more sequins, and a more curve hugging fabric.

The photo above was from my roadblock point.  I was frustrated and leery of my next step.  So I spoke out loud:

Please forgive me for all those horrible jokes I made about Adrian hussies, their hair, and Freddy McFarmboy's Buick.  I was just a jealous and vulgar teenager.  I'm not sorry for what I said about their volleyball skills though because that was more of a fact, that much hairspray really does affect your game.  Oh, and that one girl's prom dress when she went in Luverne with Bobby McQuarterback really was something that a streetwalker would wear.  Well, not by today's standards, but back then that comment was in good faith.  Also, I just wanted to say that I am very grateful that I went to high school in a time before social media.  Now, Sweet Big Cheese above, please let me get this slutty uni done right. A to the men. 

Stars aligned.  I sewed.  Seams came together.  And after receiving some canary bunhuggers and a set of royal and yellow pompoms in the mail, the sassy cheer ensemble was near complete.  It just needed one spunky, always-a-Luverne-Cardinal-on-the-inside, super-toned-from-Insanity-workouts cheer champion.

Let me tell you, she owned it.  Owned it like Freddy McFarmboy now owns a hog barn, two combines and a manure spreader.

As for me, I really do have nothing but love for the Adrian community.  The wedding there was beautiful and I truly do hope to build some A-drin friendships in the near future.  I can not promise to stop talking smack though. Same goes for you Pipestone, Beaver Creek and any other town in a 30-mile radius of Luverne.

DIViji: She Was Framed!

It was completely premeditated.  We picked out the pronged blade.  Got spray paint to cover our tracks.  And told Viji's kids that it they ever wanted to make it to their college years that they better keep the lips zipped.

OK, not all of those things are true, but there was some blood on the scene.  

The real crime was the giant speakers on Viji's dining room wall hugging the china cabinet.  I didn't even notice them when the walls were beige. After the cocoa color change, the speakers were as unpleasing as having Justin Bieber music piped directly into your brain 24/7. 

I was just trying to sound cool.  I actually love the Biebs and declare 'Never Say Never' as my anthem for today.  Might even put it on re-pe-pe-pe-pe-peat.  If having Bieber fever is a crime, then I am a dirty, disgusting lawbreaker.

Sorry, the goal for the wall space around the cabinet was:

1. Cover the speakers that never get used.

2. Make a visual bang since it is one of the first things you see when entering the front door.

We bought four Ribba frames from Ikea for the frame cores and decorative molding pieces from Home Depot to add the punch.

Mr. Schatze carefully and meticulously cut the four molding pieces for each frame.  Such precision.  

We matched up the molding segments around the frame, attached them with some hardcore wood glue and then held them into place to dry with one of those fancy strap-on clamp things.  If you don't have one, go to the hardware store and ask for it just like that, fancy strap-on clamp thing.  Throw in some hand gestures too.

After the outer frames were solid we glued them to the Ikea frames.  Mr. Schatze sanded some of the finish off the Ikea frame edges so that the wood would adhere better.  He also sanded the front of the frames so our paint would stick.  What's that?  Did Mr. Schatze do all the work on this project? No.  Just about 90-95% of it.  He is a pro and we are lucky to have him.

It should come as no surprise that we used gold spray paint for the frames.  We should just order it by the case instead of going back to the store for individual cans.  Notice Viji's gloves and new gun handle.  That woman is ready to hit the streets.  Look out Chandler business walls.

Besides spray paint, gold, turquoise and bling, Viji also loves nature.  We picked out some photos that she took in a garden on her last visit to India.  I photoshopped them and we ordered prints from Walgreens.

Inserting the glass back into the frames was a bit more of a challenge than I anticipated. It kept getting caught on the fold over tabs.

My hands said Hey, maybe if you massage the glass in gently with a bit of pressure it would go.

My head said, Don't be stupid.  Glass doesn't massage.

My hands said,  Just a little right there.  Yeah, oh yeah.  That's it.

The glass said, Crack.

My finger said, Ouch! Oh God - blood.  You ignorant ninny. Are you trying to kill me?

FYI- my finger has an English accent.  I hope you used it.

After bandaging, feeling sorry for myself and a small temper tantrum I got the glass in by carefully pulling the frame sides apart.  When that didn't work on one piece, I pulled out a few of the unruly tabs.

The attachments for hanging that come with the frame freak me out so I drilled in holes to put eye hooks and used the included wire.

As we were hanging them, Viji told me that when they were walking through the garden where she took the pictures a monkey started following them.  He wanted her son's juice bottle but her son refused to throw it away or let him have it.  When the family stopped to break and sat down on a bench, the monkey snuck up behind them and slapped the kid on his arm to start a grapple over the tasty treat.  Viji scared him off and they laughed and laughed.

Her story made me realize that we had chosen the perfect pictures for the wall.  Who wouldn't want to be reminded of their melee with a monkey every time they enter the dining room?

When all was said and hung I sat there eating my lunch gazing happily at the new wall decor.  <deep sigh> The beauty of it all made me want to punch a monkey.  Since that crime might actually come with jail time, I clapped giddily to myself instead.

Mirror Five

Just one more thing about mirrors...

If you haven't given yourself a mirror five today go ahead and do that now.  

Then tell them how pretty they look.