Bonus Points: Find the bridesmaid bouquet!

A scrapbooker’s station is her heart.

(Metaphorically, that is.)

(It’s totally unconnected from the circulatory system.)

(The scrapbook station, that is.)

(This is getting a bit confusing, isn’t it?)

(Let’s just stop while I’m only a bit behind, k?)

You might have expected this post to be my Project Life Week Three layout.

Then you’ve forgotten my promise to remain my traditional lazy self.

So now I’m a full three weeks behind.

In case you were worried I was changing – have no fear.

The laziness is here to stay.

In lieu of adorable glimpses into my awkwardness, I present you with the place where the magic happens.

Bonus Points: Find the photo of Skye & my Grandma hugging! (How sweet, right?)

Not my magic, specifically.

But some magic, certainly.

You see, this is Skye’s scrapbooking area.

Isn’t it adorable?

She isn’t doing Project Life, exactly – she’s not using any Becky Higgins products or even having segregated page protectors, but she is scrapbooking her life a week at a time.

(And that totally counts.)

Skye was sitting at her desk tonight when I walked in and started photographing, so ignore the homework-related paraphernalia.

(Her desk has quite a few job descriptions.)

(She ignored my photography easily, having had years and years of practice.)

Bonus Points: Guess Skye's favorite animal!

Don’t you just want to sit down and craft?

Or at least sit down and pretend you’re the kind of person who’s self motivated enough to craft but instead just writes about it on the Internet?

(Hope it’s not the latter, ’cause that’s my role.)

(It’s quite a specific, not-in-demand niche, but it’s mine.)

Bonus Points: Find the pink champagne bottle Skye brought me from Paris!

To be fair, I’ll show you my craft desk.

It’s a bit less adorable and a bit more messy.

Please take note of the easy to reach supplies, most of which are ones I’ve never used.

(It’s possible I should reorganize my desk.)

(But doesn’t that just sound tiring?)

(Yes, yes it does.)

(Nap time, anyone?)

Bonus Points: Find the random animal print cupcake holders!

I’ve also commandeered this cart to hold all my Project Life journaling cards.

I’d throw away the boxes they came in (seen here classily scattered on the back of the cart), but have also tricked myself into thinking I’ll do something creative with them someday.

(Take note, when I’m officially declared a hoarder, this’ll have been the first warning sign.)

(Also, you’re all now enablers.)

(Really, you just think you’re helping me.)

(But this is going to end with me being smothered to death my all the cats who’ve been smothered to death by my newspaper piles.)

This post was brought to you by the American Association for Adult Nap Time,

Megan

~~~~~

Equally Awkward Reads

* Project Life, Week One

* Sharon’s Wedding Scrapbook

* Project Life, Week Two

'My Project Life Scrapbooking Station (And By Mine, I Mean Skye’s)

Blogging has changed my life.

Now, sometimes when people say that it sounds disingenuous or exaggerated but I assure you, for me it’s true.

For, if it wasn’t for blogging, I might never have discovered that Harry Potter Clue exists.

Knowing my love of board games and of forcing my friends to play such board games, it was clear it must be mine.

Thankfully, my mom then bought it.

‘Cause she just knows me.

And ’cause I might or might not have sent out a creepily excited email at the magical discovery.

(Which is unrelated to the creepily excited emails I send about Harry Potter pins.)

(An email list I once mentioned in front of my favorite dog‘s mom, so then politely asked if she’d like to be added onto.)

(Like many things I’ve offered people, the response was, “Ohhhh, no… that’s okay.”)

Actually playing was a revelation.

Specifically, it revealed that Harry Potter Clue is exactly like an alcoholic strawberry daiquiri.

I mean, isn’t it obvious?

It’s an adult version of an old childhood classic.

I recently ordered a strawberry daiquiri while out to eat.

When it arrived I took a sip, eagerly anticipating the taste of childhood, only to find it actually tasted like alcohol.

This was, as you can imagine, quite a shock.

Apparently the ones my mom made me every Christmas were non-alcoholic.

And apparently when you add alcohol, a strawberry daiquiri tastes different.

It livens up a party.

Now, some of you might not think every wild and crazy party needs a board game referencing a children’s fantasy book.

Why are you even reading this post?

All the cool kids know every party needs either board games or alcohol in daiquiri form.

I’d discuss the kind of party that has both, but this is a family-friendly blog.

Surprisingly, no one gets murdered.

At least, not yet.

If you don’t pay attention you can wind up locked in a joke shop with an unlit fire.

This one might not make sense to you, depending on your experience with Harry Potter Clue or drinking near joke shops.

And if that isn’t inspiration to go out and live a little more, I don’t know what is.

 Except, maybe, there’s a cow out there and he wants to be your friend,

Megan

{In case you feared this was a sponsored post, part of board game manufacturers’ new marketing strategy targeting preschool alcoholics, have no fear. It’s just me. Me behind the post, that is, not me that is trying to steer baby alcoholics toward board games. Not that that’d be a bad idea – might give them a good focus away from the juice.}

~~~~~

Equally Awkward Reads

* I’ve Seen Harry Potter Naked

* Harry Potter Pantomime 

* Harry Potter the Exhibit

'Harry Potter Clue Is Like An Alcoholic Strawberry Daiquiri

Skye has thyroid cancer.

And you know what they say about cancer.

It’s the growth of malignant cells and an astrological sign.

(Hey, not all sayings can be winners.)

It also means quite a few doctor appointments.

That’s where I come in.

And not just because I love stealing magazines.

(As it happens, I’m actually morally opposed to magazine theft.)

(It’s mean and wrong and leads to boring waiting rooms.)

(And that’s why I’d like to take this time to apologize for, well, a couple of Entertainment Weekly incidents.)

(I was in the middle of an article!)

(Both times!)

(And I meant to bring them back!)

(Really!)

(But I had to find out what the Muppets had to say.)

(And for that I’m sorry.)

My mom rocks waiting rooms while crocheting.

Skye rocks the waiting room with paperwork.

I rock the waiting room in pearls.

‘Cause endocrinologists’ offices demand classy.

(I’d show you the surgeon’s office photos but I’m making a weird face inside a book.)

(And I’d made the mistake of not wearing pearls.)

(Shameful, I know.)

Sign of a high quality endocrinologist is tiny plastic thyroids.

Skye’s has cancer.

(Get it?)

Mine is normal.

Which gives me excited face.

Naturally.

During each appointment my mom and Skye had out pads of paper and were taking copious notes. Notes of percentages and lymph nodes and very serious medical stuff.

I was also taking notes during this time.

In my defense, I’m fairly positive her surgeon said her cancer stands alone.

How could I not immortalize that?

Skye really really really appreciated all your thoughts and prayers and sweet words

I love you all,

Megan

~~~~~

Equally Awkward Reads

* Sexy Seaweed Photo Shoot

* Skye being Attacked By A Boulder

* Thyroid Cancer Sucks

'When Your Best Friend Has Thyroid Cancer: Stage One (Doctor Who?)