Tag Archives: babies

WANTED: Gray Haired African-American Man With Saxophone Skills

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[Because it’s was my birthday, and because I’m refinishing cabinets and I started a new job, I’m recycling an oldie. If you remember this post, congratulations. You’re two years older and still like reading pointless stuff on the INTERNETS.]

I’m currently babysitting my best friend’s 6 month old.  Yes, the same best friend who pumps breast milk in my car and leaves it in my fridge, okay?  This is the first 10 minutes I’ve had all day and I find myself exhausted on the couch, drinking coffee that I poured five hours ago, and watching an Oprah special on loveless marriages.  Somehow I feel that I’ve just been given a glimpse into my life in about five fifteen twenty years.  I’m sorry, will you excuse me while I wipe the squash residue off my glasses?

Ok, I’m back. As you can deduce from its title – this blog ends with us pondering matters of Destiny, but first, it’s going to stop at the gas station and pick up some snacks while we avoid the subject.

Somewhere around 2am last night I was like, what the crap?  So I proceeded to pop in one of my all time favorite movies: Only You.  Stop scratching your head –  you’ve never seen it.  And if you have, you wrote it off within the first 5 mins or as soon as Marisa Tomei said, “He’d kill tigers for you.”  And you’d be justified. But I love it to pieces and that is just something you’ll have to live with. 

The reasons why I love this movie out number the reasons why I hate Neil Diamond. And no, it’s not just Robert Downey, Jr. speaking Italian. Or the runaway bride fiasco. Or Marisa Tomei. No, definitely not her. In fact, just ignore her the entire movie.  The main reason is because it is set in Italy, for which my obsession grew exponentially when I actually visited. Then my camera broke right in front of the Colosseum and ruined my trip.

Needless to say, I cannot express the beauty of this land. It’s magical. And I never use that gross word. Not only the scenery, but the people.  It’s a place where people actually care about something more than money.  They enjoy life.  They can’t understand you, but they’ll laugh with you and hand you some gelato.  Or a plate of pasta.  Go as quickly as you can.  It IS as beautiful as it looks. It WILL change your life.  And I PROMISE to stop talking about Italy now.

Anyway, I’ve never been a gooey person.  Shocker. I can’t even accept a compliment on my hair much less someone telling me that they can’t live without me. I hate receiving flowers or any other impractical gift that dies or has an expiration date; I would never dance in the middle of a street; I don’t want a fairytale wedding, and I certainly don’t celebrate “anniversaries,” whether they be actual legitimate yearly milestones or fake excuses to go out to eat, like, say, 7 months.

Although Only You may be a chic flick, the sheer beauty is that it actually makes fun of the concept of “destiny” and preconceived ideas that there is one true soulmate for everyone.  Because would I watch it if it didn’t?  Absolutely not.  I think when I was younger, I believed that your whole life was a search for “your other half,”  and now, I believe you could be happy with any number of people.  Just in a different way.  I’m not sure which conclusion is the right one, and I have a feeling I never will.

However, there are exceptions to every rule. 

And this is my exception:  if I should ever find myself strolling along a rainy, cobblestoney, Italian street, while being serenaded by a gray-haired African-American (note: he HAS to be African-American for this scenario to work) playing the saxophone, while talking to a charming and dangerously witty brunette who was able to quote Goethe  – I just might dance in the middle of the street.  Under the right circumstances, anything is possible.

If you’d like to witness this exact scenario, please skip ahead to 1:35.  If not, please watch the entire thing anyway. 

Only by joy and sorrow does a person know anything about themselves and their destiny.   

 – Goethe.

Wondering where I went? I have returned to blogging over at my whole foods blog Celery and the City, where we live so clean it’s like your insides took a bath.

A Photo Shoot And A Scientific Breakthrough

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Alright, Science. Get your gloves on, cause we’re about to box. I know you think you can jack with our diets every other day by releasing new information regarding the detriments of coffee, and eggs and high fructose corn syrup, and yet you conveniently forget to report other pertinent information regarding the mental instability of babies. What gives you the right? Perhaps you are just fearful that revealing the truth might cause the human race to fizzle out like a Matt Leblanc spin-off. Well, maybe you’re right, but the people deserve to know.

HYPOTHESIS: All babies are born with bipolar disorder. Future parents, don’t be alarmed: there is nothing you can do to prevent this. This fact is nondiscriminatory – it transcends gender, socioeconomic status and ethnicity. I’m not revealing this to freak you out or to scare you off procreation – it is just a simple fact of life.

This is not a photography tutorial, but I will still offer you a tip: if you happen to find yourself photographing or in the company of a newborn, you will need to keep this in mind. Please remember that when a “disorder” is involved, you must be patient. The child cannot help the fact that they are completely inconsolable one moment and perfectly content the next, with no earthly explanation for these vast extremities.

Oh, and science, just when you thought I was stupid enough to make lofty claims without the data to back it up, I have proof!

DATA:

“Hey guys, it’s me! Just being sweet and checking out the world.”

“I hate this world!! And everything in it! Including YOU!”

“I think I’m gonna lay here, nice and quiet.. like a rotisserie chicken.”

Zzzzzzz…..sweet dreams of BBQ flavored baby food…

“Hey guys, look at me! I’m like a little dinosaur!”

“Ahhhh! The turmoils of life!!! They are just too wretched to bear!”

Zzzz… walking through a meadow filled with flowers shaped like pacifiers…

“I am so pleased with the way my life is shaping up. So many things to write down in my Oprah’s Best Life gratitude journal.”

BAM! ROASTED, Science. Next time you’ll think twice before questioning me.

**Disclaimer: This is the child of two of my very closest friends. He is wonderful and perfect, no matter how much he cries. And his auntie Blunt will always give him honest advice about the ladies.

More photos: Indigo Photography

This Blog Is The Next Heidi Montag

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This blog is so vain. She probably thinks this post is about her.

Well, in this instance she is right.

You know what they say about plastic surgery: it’s addicting. And if anyone would know, it’s this blog, which has had three different looks in the past year. I told her she had better stop before she becomes the Heidi Montag of blogs, but it’s like talking to a brick wall.

So Blunt Delivery went through a little face lift with the help of my girlies over at caffeinateddesigns. I love them so much that I used an Asian Barbie for my twitter feed in honor of Cheryl. Cheryl is the Asian one. Jen is totally white. So technically, all of the other pictures are an homage to her. We’re still working out a few kinks on the site, so just settle down.

Okay guys, after much thought and consideration, I’ve decided to end this blog.

But then I thought about that one person who reads it every week and laughs at the tragedy that is my life, and I thought – I can’t do that to them – whoever they are. If they exist, and I’m 45% positive they do. So instead, I have decided to expand this blog’s horizons a bit.

I am a person who can’t sit still. But wait, don’t you spend like 12 hours a day sitting still in front of a computer, writing and editing and doing all sorts of things that the majority of the world despises?

Wow, you have quite the memory. Ever considered working for the CIA? I could get the details from Matt Damon. I guess when I say I can’t sit still I’m referring more to my mind. I always have five different projects going on. I am not satisfied unless I am learning something new. I’m one of those people who will see something they like, resolve it’s too expensive and then go home and learn how to make it. Follow me?

Historically, Blunt Delivery has just been a blog about my ridiculous life; but I am going to start incorporating other aspects of myself into this blog – because you know that I can barely keep up one blog much less a separate one for each of my distinctly different personalities!

The main reason I won’t quit this blog – besides all of the fabulous people I meet through it – is that it is the one place I can entirely be myself. And I need a place for all of the random stuff circling my head, or I might spontaneously combust.

I get a lot of emails/questions through my photo blog and I would like to start answering them here. I would like to simplify the technical stuff so that people can find the joy in this hobby, rather than the frustration. So, you will be seeing some different things here such as photography posts, tutorials, and random DIY decorating things . After the torture of learning how to use my first DSLR and Photoshop, I really fell in love with photography. Since I don’t do it for an income, it has become a great outlet for me and has allowed the ability to provide creative memories for my friends and family.

BUT I will never stop posting about my ridiculous life. How could I considering it is the Sears Tower of Ridiculousness?

I know many of you will have no interest in these things (as my readers are a 50/50 gender mix) and that is just fine! I will title them with strong warnings such as: PHOTO SHOOT: DON’T LOOK AT IF YOU HATE BABIES. That way you can easily skip over them! Always looking out for ya.

Oh, sorry, except for when I just slip baby pictures in there like that!

The jury is still out on whether or not this was borderline child abuse. Would this post be more interesting if I told you this is Kenny’s baby? Cus it is.

Here’s to hoping I’m not headed for the slammer,

Blunt

Breast Pumping Your Way To A Free Mocha

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There’s something magical that happens the very instant you become a mom.  I’m not sure of the details because I have not yet crossed that shaky domestic bridge, but from what I can gather: you become the cheapest person alive. 

My very best friend is a new mom.  I get in her car and immediately she throws the largest coupon organizer of ALL TIME onto my lap.  The coupons were alphabetically organized. “This is going to get us through the day,” she said with a grin.  First, we roll up to McDonald’s because she has a buy one extra value meal, get one free sandwich coupon.   I thought, “ok, thats fine, free sandwich.”  For the next 10 (and I am NOT exaggerating) mins, I was but an innocent bystander to the following drive thru conversation:

friend:  Yes, can I get the grilled chicken value meal? 

lady:   Sure.   Drink?

friend: I’d just like water and actually I don’t want any fries with that cus I’m trying to lose weight.  And then I’d like another grilled chicken sandwich, lettuce only. 

lady: Okaaaaay.  $9.42. 

friend:  And no mayonnaise on both.  (we pull ahead to the window and she hands over the coupon)  Okay, I have a coupon, so I should get the second sandwich free.

lady:  OKAY. SO  your new total is $6.12

friend: UM.  Hmm.. Now, shouldn’t the total be less than that?  Because the sandwich is free and I only ordered an extra value meal -but I didn’t even get fries and I only got water.

lady:  Well, why don’t you just order two sandwiches then? 

friend: Because the coupon says I have to order an extra value meal in order to get the other sandwich free.

lady: OKAY. SO you want the extra value meal, with just the sandwich and the water?

friend: Yes.

lady: Well, the bottled water is actually more expensive than the other drinks, so it’s still going to be that amount.

friend: Ok, then no water.

lady: OKAY. SO you just want  the extra value meal – with no fries and no drink?

friend: Yes, that is correct.

(at this point, the lady is rendered speechless and has to get the manager)

(this is also the point when I call my dad and have a five minute conversation, while trying not to leap out the car window and thrust myself into moving traffic.)

drive-thruFinally, they tell her just to pay three dollars and they hand over the sandwiches.  As we’re leaving, she tells me that later we’ll have to go back cus the Mochas are buy one get one free from 2:00-5.   Then we go to Baby’s R Us.  She rolls up to the checkout with a cart full of stuff and hands the elderly cashier AN ENTIRE STACK  of coupons.  Then, she says:

friend: But here’s the thing, they are all expired.

cashier: Um, so you want to use a stack of expired coupons for your purchases?

friend:  Yes.  George said it was okay because I live out of town and only come around once a week.

cashier:  George doesn’t work here anymore.  Let me get the manager.  (at this point, I start to get uncomfortable)

friend:  Oh, and I’m supposed to get a free box of diapers because I bought three Pamper products.

(Knowing what is about to come, I just walk away.  I stand by the door for a good 15 mins before going to the car, where I waited for another 10 minutes.)

As soon as she gets in the car, I tell her that she took so long that we might miss the 2-5 time frame in which to get the free mocha at McDonald’s.   I start driving, when I notice some rustling in the passenger seat.  Before I know it, she has plugged in her breast pump and was holding two empty bottles.  I just looked over  and she says, “Don’t you worry, I got this under control.”   We ended the day by going to JCPenney, where the clearance items were also buy one get one free.  Then there was yet another confrontation with an elderly cashier when my friend asked if she could do two separate purchases in order to get more things free.  The lady said that wasn’t really fair to JCPenney, to which my friend replied that she has to do what’s fair for her wallet.