Leaving Us Hung Out To Dry

Not mine. And I'm a little sad it means I'm getting older since when I saw
this in the parking lot of my local 7-11 recently, I did not for one minute
worry that it might be.

Although, my dirty laundry is becoming more and more public thanks to my increasingly frequent trips to the local laundromat.

Hey, a girl has to socialize somewhere.

Actually, our horrible, terrible, loud, worthless, ridiculous, awful, almost-brand-new-supposed-to-be-awesome-frontloading washing machine has been an utter piece of crap since we bought it. We have had five (read it: FIVE) service calls (one of which involved the repairman doing something so unseemly in our downstairs bathroom that we have promised, for our own sanity, to never speak of it again) and the effing thing still is not fixed.

Because we don't have a reliable washing machine right now, we just go as long as we can before it gets to the point where we're in danger of having nothing but formal gowns (Canetto) and overalls (me) to wear to work, and then we pack up the car and head to the laundromat. (Which, by the way, my daughter thinks is about the most fun anyone can have and will sit and stare at the washing machines for the duration of the wash cycle.)

Note to self: Put 529 plan contributions toward something that might have a better chance of paying off. Like betamax.

This new washing machine came highly recommended by Consumer Reports and replaced a 35-year-old Kenmore that was still working. But it was old, and our dryer had just died, so we figured it was a good time to replace them both.

I think that just because something is older it does mean that it has lost its value and sometimes the newer version of something, while shiny and pretty on the surface, is not necessarily better. I feel like there is an analogy here, but I'm not quite sure what it is. (Donald Trump...)

The washer repairman and his digestive issues are scheduled to come again this Wednesday to finally resolve the problem. Looks like I'll be wearing my Flashdance sweatshirt and MC Hammer pants to a client meeting tomorrow.



The Barn Isn't The Only Thing They're Raising

My friend, Jon, posted a link on Facebook to an Amish online dating service.

As a public service to my Amish brethren, I'm happy to provide the following list of Amish pick-up lines to help them navigate the devil's playground that is online dating:

10. Is that one of Satan's reflective devices in thouest's pocket? Because I can see myself in thouest's lace-up woollen trousers.
9. Got any Pennsylvania Dutch in thou? Want some?
8. My name is Jebediah. Remember that...thou will be screaming it later.
7. What dost thou sayest I plow thou's fields?
6. What's your hex sign?
5. What has 148 teeth and holds back the Incredible Hulk? Not my zipper, as those are the work of the devil.
4. If I told thou that thou had a great body, would thouest bear eleven of my children?
3. Churn here often?
2. Let's take this courtin' buggy straight to Intercourse (Pennsylvania)

and the #1 Amish pick up line:

1. I would love some of thou's whoopie pie, if thou knowest what I mean...

Kathleen 2.0

I saw a few minutes of Tosh.0 the other night, and it featured a clip of a gymnast whose ankle broke and therefore, left his foot at a very unnatural angle from his leg. I cannot get that image out of my head. I will never forgive you, Tosh.0.

Although, the new and improved version of me might find it in her heart to do so. I explain in this week's Oakton Patch column.

Thankful for my intact talus,
Brutalism

I Wore Paunts In Staunton

Note: Staunton, Virginia, is pronounced how a northerner-by-birth (like me) pronounces "aunt" -- as "ant" and not as "awnt" like the Southerners who I grew up with in Virginia Beach pronounced it. As such, I already approved of the place before we got there.

We were in Staunton this weekend for no good reason. Other than the fact that this is the home of the Statler Brothers and we are Statler Brothers groupies. (That is not true. Although, my father did love the Statler Brothers and I could probably name more Statler Brothers songs and albums than I would ever care to admit. Same with my mom and Neil Sedaka. With this kind of musical influence, there was really never any danger of me joining a rock band.)

Staunton is three hours from Northern Virginia on Amtrak and we read that once we got there we would not need a car -- which is something we love. We also love to go away for the weekend often. I do not know why...as we live in a very exciting area. Probably so I can immediately decide that I want to move anywhere we visit and that is not at all annoying for Canetto.



This is us at the Amtrak station in Manassas. Our photo was taken by a man who looked
like a child molester and whose hands were shaking so badly that he immediately dropped the camera after
taking this photo. I have no idea what is going on with my boobs here.



Canetto found a place for us to stay that was a huge loft apartment on top of a couple of shops. It was decorated beautifully and is the type of place I envision myself living. I forget sometimes continually that I am not young, urban and fabulous.

Seriously, check this out:

The owner of the loft left a huge bunch of fresh flowers in the pottery vase on the table and a cake plate in the fridge stocked with fresh baked goods:

Immediately asked if we could come back here. We had been in town about 25 minutes.

We did a bunch of fun stuff in this sleepy little artsy town: walked to a park and fed ducks, watched a glass-blowing demonstration at a glass studio, went to a farmer's market, toured the Mary Baldwin campus, rode the trolley, went to dinner at restaurants that served locally-grown foods, shopped at funky little stores...

Today, I'm back to reality. Living in my decidedly suburban '70s split level house, working at my corporate job and missing Staunton.

Staunton -- I'm entraunced,
Brutalism

On The Road Again

Damn you, Shut up and Run. You somehow make distance running seem like a good idea. It is your fault that I am going to attempt a half marathon in a few months. (Well, your fault and the fault of my friend, Amanda, who just got herself into pretty amazing shape training for a 10-miler.) You both suck.

My Oakton Patch article this week is all about what drove me to this decision. The last time I did something like this was back in 2008, when I was much younger and much more sleep-deprived.

Check out the Patch article. Wish me luck. And please pretend you never saw that photo of me not wearing makeup in the link to the marathon in 2008. (For chrissakes...I made a point to apply makeup before giving birth so I'd like the delivery room photos...and here I go posting a photo of me without makeup for the world to see.)

From really bad choices come really great stories,
Brutalism

Extremity Makeover

Last night, I was reviewing our Easter pictures and thinking "Awww...my little girl will not stay young forever. Look how sweet she is in her Easter dress and holding a cute, furry little bunny rabbit, and sporting a few tats, smiling sweetly at the camera":


Makes my teeth ache it is so sweet...


But then....THEN....I noticed her hand:

Aaaaahhhh! WTF is going on here?

I get that it is a camera angle and that it is the bunny fur, but honestly...wouldn't the bunny's fur be BETWEEN her fingers and not sprouting up through the MIDDLE of her fingers like she is some kind of alien?

This (and the fact that our home alarm went off in the middle of the night last night because I forgot to shut the garage door all the way -- oops. And sorry, alarm company and neighbors) kept me up all night.

Granted, her gene pool kind of set the stage for this:

I guess this explains my fear of drawn butter.

So much for our hand model careers,
Brutalism

Poppin' Some Caps. Yo.

Once again, a highlight of the month was the Dilettante Club activity (shooting), and not just because some guy in the next lane did an idiotic dance and then almost killed us. (If we had a nickel for every time that has happened...)

And I did it in a dress and heels:

In other news...this morning is my final "treatment." I feel like I should celebrate in some way -- although getting a tiny shred of my dignity back by never having to go through this again is pretty much its own reward.

Have a great weekend,

Brutalism

My CBS News Clip - Following A Story On Charlie Sheen - How Appropriate

Some points of clarification:

1. Hillary and I really did not walk around Chicago all day holding a diorama together. (It was just for part of the day)
2. This spot ran at 10:15 on the 10 o'clock news...meaning it was the slowest news day, ever (if the fact that we followed a spot on Charlie Sheen's stage show did not tip you off)
3. I could not love any more the fact that they designate me as "Kathleen Canedo...Peep Artist"
4. I almost keep a straight face as Hillary is recalling all of the places we took our diorama. Yay, me!
5. I think Mai Martinez is mocking us a little bit at the end of the story. I respect that.

Autograph line forms to the left,
Brutalism

We're Number Two!!!

(Perhaps I should re-phrase)...

Hillary and I are the second-place finishers in the Chicago Tribune Peeps Diorama contest 2011.

As I wrote in my Facebook status update last week when they let us know this and then asked us to keep it quiet for a whole week: Dude.

Read all the glowing things they wrote about us and our diorama here.

All I have to say is this:

...perhaps our DC to Chicago marketing campaign paid off
...perhaps the esteemed judges (movie critic Michael Phillips, visual arts reporter Lauren Viera and theater critic Chris Jones) recognize true artistic ability
...perhaps there are many fewer entries in the Chicago Tribune Contest than in the Washington Post contest

Details.

All we know is that our diorama, "Larry Peep Live on PNN interviewing Snoopy Snoopy Poop Dog" is NUMBER TWO in a major metropolitan area publication.

How much do we love Chicago? A lot, that's how much. They continue to prove just how much of a collective sense of humor they have. Big love to our Midwestern peeps for their love of our peeps.

So many people to thank:
(*digs  folded-up paper containing acceptance speech out of cleavage in revealing slinky gown*)

• My Peeps Partner in Crime (PPIC), Hillary, who came up with the idea for the diorama, did not allow us to crap out of doing a diorama this year even though we were both close to doing so, and immediately agreed to fly to Chicago to deliver this thing. You complete me.
• My Oakton Patch editor, Nicole, who from the nanosecond I mentioned this, began plotting how to make it an event on the Patch site and was completely fun and supportive all the way. I almost feel bad about missing my column deadline every.single.week.
• Our Midwest Partner in Peephood (MPIP), Lauren, who shuttled us around Chicago and took pictures and got us a television interview. I feel like we should give you 15%.
• Fellow Dilettantes Amy (who was the first person to send along the article about Alan Simpson's gaffe) and Amanda who provided constant support, retweets and comments. (Affectionate noogies.)
• Best friend from seventh grade Kath (for recommending LePeep restaurant and trying to recruit a Chicago flash mob). I would not have entrusted the diaper string shawl to anyone else.
• All of our friends at the Peeps Store/National Harbor; Lauren from Northwestern; the fratcation boys from the University of Nebraska, the impossibly gorgeous Suzanne LeMignot and Scott from CBS; and the fine and adorable (Hi, Cullen!) staff at the Palomar Hotel. (Big thanks, also, to Rachel, for getting us a sweet deal at the Palomar -- I did not think it was possible to love Kimpton Hotels any more.)
• Our crazy friends and family who forwarded along the links to our adventures and begged for votes (JenBC), blog readers (and especially commenters), Facebook friends, and Twitter followers for coming along for the ride
• Canetto and Avery for reasons too numerous, mushy, and/or embarrassing to mention
• And of course, the one who guides me spiritually. You know...Bronze Fonz

(Music begins playing me off-stage...)

The Gong Show

(Aside: I actually went to a taping of The Gong Show out in LA back in the day. It was my favorite program at the time and I remember that the show I attended featured every contestant singing some version of the song "Feelings." I also remember that during a break, Chuck Barris took a bite out of an orange and then tossed the orange into the studio audience.)

I'm suddenly less clear about whether this actually happened or if it was some sort of flashback.

Anyway, the gong show I'm referring to in my Oakton Patch column today is something completely different. Check it out, or you will hurt my feelings...

...whoa, whoa, whoa...feeelllinnngssss,
Brutalism

So Is That A Yellow Card Or A Red Card?

A couple of e-mails from my daughter's soccer coach yesterday morning:

The first one:

Parents,

The fields are open. I will see you there. We will have many teams there, so parking might be interesting. Look for the guy in the yellow shit. That is our color this season.

Coach Tom

Which was almost immediately followed up by the second one:

That earlier email was missing one very important letter. I will be wearing a yellow SHIRT. (and a very red face!)

Sorry,
Tom

Still laughing,
Brutalism

Update 1: Thanks, DC Blogs, for linking to this today. I appreciate it. I'm not sure how Coach Tom feels.
Update 2: Also...see Jeff Cockey in Atlas Shrugged (out in theaters now!)

Tomato Tomahto

After writing so many posts and columns in the past two weeks that my hand turned into a lobster claw:

Seriously? I still don't know what is going on there...

I phoned it in tried something new at At Home with Brutalism. The column this week is a photo essay (captions provided by me -- see? there is some writing involved) of our Sunday in Chicago as seen through the lens of Vanessa at Violet Rose Photography.

Check it out. Comment. Delight in the fact that they are announcing winners of this thing next Thursday and that maybe I can shut up about it for another year at that point...

XOXOXO,
Brutalism

Diorama Delivery Adventure - Third and Final Part

Thanks to a recommendation from my friend, Kath, Sunday started with breakfast at Le Peep restaurant. But of course.

On our way into the restaurant, we passed two Chicago police officers, so we asked if they would mind taking a picture with our diorama. They did not, which was great, because as Hillary distracted them with the Peeps diorama, I hot wired a nearby car.

Cops apprehending the PEEPetrator. (ha ha ha snort). They should have apprehended me for wearing the most unflattering shirt on the face of the earth.

We had breakfast and took photos of our diorama with the entire wait staff at Le Peep (their request). Toward the end of breakfast, Hillary said that she thought Harpo Studios (Oprah's place) was near by. I used the GPS on my phone and discovered it was 171 feet (yes, feet) from the restaurant. So we immediately hailed a cab.

Not really. We walked to the end of the block and found it:

As I stood across the street taking this photo of Hillary, I saw a sporty silver Mercedes drive by and I swore Oprah herself was driving it. I would imagine that she probably has a driver during the week, but it was a beautiful Sunday afternoon, so it did not seem too outlandish that it could be Oprah. That's all I had to say to Hillary to prompt her to take off running down the street after "Oprah" with the diorama in her hand. She did not catch up to the car, which is unfortunate, because we probably could have taken another round of photos with our police officer friends.

Not one to give up easily, Hillary then marched into the front door of Harpo Studios and tried to convince the security guard on duty that we needed to see Oprah. The guard listened to our diorama story, smirked and then told us that Oprah was not there that day. (Note:  Liar, liar, pants on fire.)

Dejected, we headed back to the hotel to meet up with Lauren and with Vanessa -- a professional photographer that my Oakton Patch editor hired to document everything we did on Sunday leading up to and during the diorama delivery at the Chicago Tribune. (Vanessa brought her husband, Kyle, and daughter, Violet, along for the shenanigans. Which we loved, because just like our children, Violet will now grow up with "Peeps diorama" as part of her vernacular.) Indoctrinate 'em while they're young -- that's what we say.

We strolled along the Chicago River, took photos in front of Chicago Tribune Building, pretended we were kissing the Silver Guy (we had to pay for this privilege -- awful flashbacks to high school), and slowly made our way to the Tribune.

At the Tribune, we started trying to rally people walking by to be in our "diorama delivery" photo with the lure of foam Peeps visors. We got a few people interested...and with our small group assembled, we phoned Leo upstairs at the Tribune to let him know we were there for the drop off.

Could our group of supporters look any less interested? Somehow fantastic.

Please let me set this up properly (as if the flight to Milwaukee, drive to Chicago and tour of the city with our diorama didn't already do that for you). We envisioned quite the photo opportunity here, as this was the defining moment of our trip -- what everything so far had led up to -- the denouement, if you will.

The reality? Leo came out, posed uncomfortably for one photo, then fled -- almost ran -- back into the safety of the Tribune building. This all happened so fast, we really did not have time to react, or say goodbye to our diorama. It was a downer for about three seconds, then we realized that it was kind of the perfect ending to the adventure.

For the rest of the afternoon, we hung out at our hotel for a while (with new friends Vanessa, Kyle and Violet ) and tried to get over our feeling of emptiness and going from being the focus of people's attention as we walked down the street with a diorama to barely getting a passing glance. (Now we know what it is like to be Winona Ryder post Reality Bites). (Minus the shoplifting conviction.) (At least for Kathleen...)

Now...we just wait and see who wins this thing. Though, as my friend, Amy, noted on Facebook, "Haven't you already won?"
---------------------------------------------------------------------------

We mentioned that we were doing a giveaway to whoever (whomever?) left the funniest comment/question on the Oakton Patch Q&A article that ran over the weekend. And the winner of the fabulous At Home with Brutalism prize pack is...

Trucking Tumbleweed

For her comment/question:

I think y'all did a great job on the diorama. I'm a big fan of ear hair portrayed artistically, and am keeping my fingers crossed that you win. Regarding the theme of your vignette, did you consider having Enema Man on the stage also? And if so how would you have done that exactly?

that made us laugh and also showed a knowledge of the subject matter. (Bonus that the subject matter was "enema.") 

Trucking T - Please provide me with an address where you'd like this sent (you can send through FB e-mail) and I'll get that out to you.

(Aside: Will this get you off my back, Trout Almondine?)

Diorama Delivery Adventure Part 2 - Chicago

(Aside: Twice during the weekend someone mentioned that our diorama reminded them of the movie Dinner for Schmucks. I guess some guy in the movie makes tiny vignettes starring taxidermied mice or something...which apparently reminds people of our Peeps diorama. Interestingly, it reminds me of Jeffrey Dahmer.)

(Bonus aside: My first-ever post on this blog (June 15, 2004) is entitled "Chicago" and is about a trip I took there. The trip included an architecture tour of the river, which is when I first learned about the Brutalist architecture style and is the reason I subsequently named this blog Brutalism. Full circle, my brothers and sisters, full circle...)

Almost immediately after checking into our hotel on Saturday, Hillary's friend, Lauren (who lives in the Chicago area) met us there and the day o' photo opportunities began. A brief note about Lauren: everyone needs a Lauren. She was a combination chauffeur, photographer, negotiator, motivator, agent, planner, friend and mom (she packed snacks). She is the reason we covered as much ground in Chicago as we did during the two days we were there. She is also the reason we were on television (did I mention we were on television?). We'll get to that in a moment...

Me, Lauren and Hillary and our reflection in the Bean.

Our goal was to take as many photos as we could with our diorama in front of recognizable Chicago landmarks, and in one day, we covered the following: Wrigley Field, Lou Malnati's (for deep dish pizza and buckets of diet coke), Willis Tower (formerly the Sears Tower), Chicago Theatre, Chicago Symphony, Art Institute of Chicago, an El Station, Marshall Fields department store and Millennium Park. And all of that was before 5:00pm. At Millennium Park, we spent a lot of time taking photos at the Bean, which is where we met lots of new friends:

• A group of fraternity boys from the University of Nebraska who were adorable and cool enough to put on Peeps visors and take photos with us (and even edified us about Nebraska being the home of Kool-Aid -- who knew?). True, they did mention on Twitter that they were on a "fratcation" which would normally be completely unacceptable, but they were fun, so we had to give them a pass. (Also, I believe we may have used the word "peeptastic" during the weekend, so we really were in no position to point fingers.)



Yes. They are about 12. And yes, I'm holding my purse like a grandma holds her pocketbook. Thanks for noticing.

• A woman named Lauren (different Lauren) who is a Northwestern grad student in journalism who had stationed herself at the Bean for a 24-hour period with the intent of writing a story about interesting people she came across during that time. When she saw us with a large group of guys wearing Peeps visors and holding a Peeps diorama, she came over to talk. She was hilariously funny and interviewed us and we will be in the story she writes about this experience. (Sadly, she was booted from the park at 11:00pm, so she was not there 24 hours as planned, but she did get a number of  fascinating stories in the hours that she was.)
• The CBS 2 folks -- Suzanne Le Mignot (who I will heretofore refer to as the "impossibly gorgeous Suzanne Le Mignot") and her cameraman, Scott. They were by Lake Michigan near Millennium Park to do a follow-up story on a woman in a wheelchair who had fallen into the lake the day before (the woman was fine). Well, the indispensable Lauren marched right up to the news truck and told them that they needed to do a story on our trip from the DC area to Chicago to deliver our diorama. She was very persuasive, because a couple of minutes later, they both got out of the truck and started setting up shots and asking us about the trip. (And shooting b-roll to use as part of the story. B-roll that included Hillary and I walking down a sidewalk holding the diorama TOGETHER. As though we had walked around the city all day doing that. Ridiculous. We took TURNS holding the diorama and walking through the city.) The impossibly gorgeous Suzanne said that she could not promise the story would run, but took our contact information in case it did.
 



Scott the cameraman getting an excellent shot of the diorama.





Us, with the impossibly gorgeous Suzanne Le Mignot. We are squinting because we had to look into the sun. I have no explanation for my lobster-claw hand.

• It is here that I would like to remind you all that we did not make it back to the hotel in time for their complimentary wine hour. That, my friends, is dedication to a mission.
• We made it back to the hotel at 6:30 and collapsed for about an hour. (Hillary and I had been up and going for about 15 hours at this point.) I was suffering from a bucket of diet coke-induced stomach ache, so around 8:00pm when Hillary and Lauren rallied for dinner in Greektown with flaming cheese, I stayed in and took a bath. During dinner, Hillary received a call from the impossibly gorgeous Suzanne letting her know that our spot was going to run at 10:15 during the evening news.
• Hillary and Lauren came back to the hotel in time to see our story (which had a teaser leading up to it, and which focused on the diorama a lot and happily included some of the ridiculous b-roll). We are currently trying to get a copy of this, which I will gladly share on this blog.  (The best part? As a lead-in to the story, the impossibly gorgeous Suzanne's narration says that "they saw us and had to do a story". Which is slightly different and much kinder than the truth -- that Lauren strong-armed them into doing a story.)

I'll be doing one more installment from this trip tomorrow, which will culminate in the ultimate delivery of our diorama to the Chicago Tribune. Did I mention that you can vote for our diorama until Thursday at noon? www.chicagotribune.com/features/peeps (Larry Peep Live -- but you already knew that, didn't you?)

Also, if you'd like to see the complete photo album from this weekend, you can visit our community page on Facebook.

Diorama Delivery Adventure Part 1 - Milwaukee

On Saturday morning, my friend, Hillary, and I left National Airport in DC at ridiculous o'clock. We flew direct to Milwaukee, as airfare to Milwaukee was $300 less than airfare to Chicago. (And Peeps/JustBorn did not end up sponsoring our airfare. So...don't buy Peeps. They suck. Unless they are still considering paying our airfare. In which case...Peeps -- yum! You are the  only bunny and chick shaped slightly stale tasting marshmallow best Easter candy out there.)

The plan was to drive from Milwaukee to Chicago (about 1.5 hours) after spending a little time driving around Milwaukee to take some photos with our Peeps diorama:

We asked three different Milwaukeeans (what are people from Milwaukee called?) what we should see in the hour we had to explore their fine city...and all three (independently of one another) said, "well, the Bronze Fonz is about it."

I beg to differ...I think another interesting thing to see in the area is exit 340 from Rte. 94. Is it home to both the Bong Recreation Area (completely true) and the Mars Cheese Castle (also completely true). That city planner is a genius.

It was gray and overcast in Milwaukee, and there were very few people out and about. We made our way to the Harley-Davidson plant, the Miller Brewing Company, and ultimately the Bronze Fonz:

Bronze Fonz should be a band name. Or my first tattoo.

We then headed south to Chicago....Chi-town...the Windy City...and drove straight to our hotel...the fabulous Palomar on State Street. I love Kimpton Hotels, anyway, but this particular Kimpton was especially gorgeous, not to mention reserved for us by Hillary's sister-in-law who works for Kimpton and therefore secured us an employee rate. We were checked in by John, who asked as he pulled up our reservation, "You're here for the Peeps contest, right?" as though he had checked in many other finalists already.

John.

Over the next two days, we got photos of us and our diorama with every doorman, porter, front desk staff person and manager at the Palomar. (One of whom was a man that I handcuffed myself to for the photo. Hillary immediately sent that photo to Canetto without explanation. You know, so he knew I missed him.)

More tomorrow on our adventures around Chicago, including all of the landmarks we visited and our unintentional media blitz that got us a spot on the CBS evening news in Chicago (really!).

In the meantime, please vote for our Larry Peep Live diorama: www.chicagotribune.com/features/peeps

Totally missing being followed by paparazzi,
Brutalism

To read about the Diorama Delivery Adventure Part 2 click here. And for the 3rd and final part, click here.

I Give...And I Give...And I Give...

Today, the Oakton Patch will be posting a Q&A (at 3:00pm EST) about our journey to Chicago to deliver our diorama. As part of this interactive feature, we are asking readers to provide questions or comments (in the comments section on the Patch site) that my Peeps partner, Hillary, and I will respond to from the road, in real-time, over the next two days.

Hillary and me at my Oktoberfest party in 2009. She is pregnant. She is also Jewish and dressed as a fraulein at an Oktoberfest party. This is one of the many reasons I love Hillary. I am not pregnant. Perhaps the giant Spaten in my hand gave that away.

Ask or comment on anything relating to our journey (within reason, I do have to live here) -- we'll respond. But wait...there's more! If your question or comment is deemed the funniest one we receive throughout the weekend (based on our very detailed criteria of "what makes us laugh"), we will send you the following exclusive "At Home with Brutalism" prize pack:

That's right! You will receive a Peeps hat (direct from the only Peeps store in the entire world), a Spy vs. Spy action figure with  many violent accessories (you will understand the significance when you read the article), and a "Back Door Guests are Best" sign (because -- hilarious). (Thanks for the idea, Sarah of So...what else?)

All of this for just being funny, something you all do effortlessly every time you leave a comment on this blog. (While I don't know the exact value of this prize pack, I can say with confidence that it is more than what me and 799,999 of my closest government friends will earn all next week.)

The link to the Q&A is here. (You will be considered extra-funny in the stringent judging criteria if you also follow me on Twitter @BrutalismBlog, friend me on Facebook: Kathleen Canedo, and become a follower on this blog.)



Transitive Property

a) I work for a government contractor.

b) The government may be shutting down all next week.

c) Therefore, I may be on vacation all next week.

Which would be nice if I could make plans to go somewhere, but the status could change at any time and I don't want to be called back early from Tahiti, you know?

It would also be nice if I could visit some museums or the National Zoo, but alas, they will also be closed.

So, I will likely be stuck at home cleaning out the liquor cabinet closets and finally vacuuming up all of the dead ants in the sun room. Funny how long I can tolerate living with dead bodies. In a house with no cellar, especially.

I'm not good with no structure in my life. Next week could get ugly. Wish me luck.

We Can Almost Taste It

Only a few more days until we drop our Peeps diorama off at the Chicago Tribune. Then, we can go back to potty jokes and dirty-sounding euphemisms around here, because Peeps is serious business.

Seriously, since we found out we were finalists, all of the writing, marketing, phone calls, tweeting and planning that @hillaryberman and I have done seems like a second job. A second fun job, but still a second job.

Peeps diorama marketing burnout = first-world problem, I am well aware.

Anyway, this week's column is up at the Oakton Patch. Check it out. Recommend it. Leave comments

Etc.

Some items on my to-do list today:

• hand off shirts to stranger in Oakton so that he can fly them back to Indonesia where our friend can use them to size the wedding wear she is having made for us
• mail handcuffs to our contact in Chicago so that I don't have to try and get those through airport security on Saturday along with our diorama (we're flying out at some god-awful-early hour and, while I know the handcuffs-and-diorama-through-security story would probably be a good one...I'm not a morning person and prefer to not deal). Raise your hand if you are completely disappointed in me and think I should not be allowed to have a blog named Brutalism.
• provide background information about Hillary and I to the Chicago Tribune for their story on us, while conspicuously leaving out any mention of age (one of us may be ten years older than the other and I don't want to embarrass someone of a certain age who should not be spending her time on such undignified shenanigans...)

Because of our trip to Chicago this weekend, my husband has to take over at home...which means that he is responsible for taking Avery to one of her friend's birthday parties on Saturday. I'm a little sad to miss it -- not just because she is one of Avery's best friends and we really like her parents, but also because something quirky happens at every birthday party involving this child.

At her swim party a couple of years ago, Canetto was standing in the pool talking to the little girl's dad, while also throwing a swim mask to our daughter in the shallow end so she could retrieve it and bring it back to him to throw again. (In re-reading that, it sounds an awful lot like fetch. We're terrible parents.) On one throw, Canetto overshot and the mask hit the birthday girl squarely on the head and she burst into tears. In his characteristically dry delivery, Canetto turned to the little girl's dad (who had obviously witnessed the whole thing since he was standing right there) and said:

"Wow. I'm glad her father didn't see that."

Last year, this little girl and her mom showed up for Avery's undersea-themed birthday party at the appointed time on a Sunday.

Only problem was...the party had been on Saturday.

Fortunately, all the decorations were still up, so we re-enacted the party games and had leftover cake and took pictures and Avery got to celebrate her birthday twice. (Hmmm...wonder if this was somehow premeditated payback for all of the fetch games...)

Did I mention you should follow me on Twitter @BrutalismBlog? You should also friend me on Facebook -- Kathleen Canedo. And if you live in the Chicago area and want to participate in our diorama drop-off this coming Sunday, April 10th...let me know -- we'd love to see you.

Photo Essay

Yesterday was all about the photos -- at the National Harbor in Maryland:



With Peeps progeny. Hillary is sitting in a nostril.



In Washington, DC:



Our diorama is very happy to see you.

And here in my little town of Oakton, Virginia.

As I mentioned, there really is not a lot in Oakton proper, but I did manage to get a few landmarks captured on film. (This will be important when the Smithsonian contacts us one day to display our Peeps diorama.) 

I got another photo -- and accosted by a volunteer who bent my ear for about ten full minutes about how I needed to volunteer at the Vale School House -- which I looked into a couple of years ago and would be happy to do if the membership meetings were not held at 10:00 AM ON TUESDAYS. Ahem:



Uncropped version of the original below, which also included a soundtrack that went something like this: "Don't go near the street. Don't you dare climb over that fence. Just hold it together for about two more minutes. Come back here. Stop it. No, you cannot go to the bathroom behind the schoolhouse." Thankfully, Canetto did hold it together for a few more minutes...

If you are not following me on Twitter -- why? For the love of God...why? (Convenient, one-click button below...because I aim to please...)

And So It Begins...

This weekend, my Peeps Partner in Crime (PPIC) and I took our diorama all over the DC metro area for photo ops, as we are now documenting our journey from DC to Chicago next Saturday, April 9th, to hand-deliver our diorama to the Chicago Tribune offices. This means that we ventured into DC this morning in the midst of all the insane cherry blossom crowds to get photos in front of some monuments, and then we each took photos of significant landmarks in our towns of Bethesda and Oakton. (Oakton, while lovely, has a bit of a dearth of significant landmarks. I got creative.)

See what I mean?

We also stopped by the Peeps store at the National Harbor and they set us up with a ton of swag. (Thanks so much, Dave and Eric -- you guys totally get it.)


I have a real chick on my shoulder. >groan<

In case I did not mention it, this journey will be covered by the Chicago Tribune and the Oakton Patch. We will also be tweeting about it and updating Brutalism along the way. If you are not already following me on twitter, please do -- @BrutalismBlog.

Power to the Peeps (with fist pump),
Brutalism

Chicago Is Fueling The Nerd Fire

In all of my excitement yesterday, I realized that I forgot to post the diorama pictures. So...here they are, along with the description of our diorama for the judges:

Our diorama pays homage to the recently-retired Larry King and the recently-blundering Alan Simpson. Focusing on the iconic aspects of the show -- the instantly-recognizable backdrop, old-fashioned microphone (made from a Tylenol caplet), and, of course, Larry's signature tie and suspenders -- this vignette portrays Snoop Dogg's response to Simpson's gaffe. (And Snoop is shown with his signature braids and sunglasses.) (ed. - nerd alert)

What do you think? Are we winning Chicago? (Click to see our entries from prior years: Blue Man Group in 2010, Whac-a-Peep in 2009 and the WGA Writer's Strike in 2008.)

PEEPS-RELATED UPDATE 1: We are definitely going to Chicago next weekend to hand-deliver this thing - we just finalized our reservations. We plan to take photos and provide blog and twitter updates during our journey.

PEEPS-RELATED UPDATE 2:  Look what Canetto sent to my office today as a congratulations on being a Peeps finalist. I don't know what was better. The sentiment (he totally gets me) or explaining to my co-workers why I got flowers today...

It's Like The Oscars - For Peeps

Yesterday, I received notification that the Peeps diorama Hillary and I submitted was chosen as a finalist in the Chicago Tribune Peeps diorama contest. (The Tribune person that notified us is named Darcel Rockett, which may be the coolest name I have ever heard -- and not just because she notified us  that we were finalists...)

I will now (uncharacteristically) use about a billion exclamation points:
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

And you, my savvy readers, will note that I mentioned we were participating in the Washington Post contest. Well, we learned long ago that the Post (our hometown paper) does not seem to recognize our talents. So this year, we diversified...and entered our diorama into a few contests across the country.

We are so unbelievably ridiculous smart.

Hillary and I are now faced with needing to deliver our diorama to the Chicago Tribune offices for judging/photographing. As it is our baby, we do not want to trust this to FedEx or UPS, but want to hand-deliver it. Which had us looking up plane fare in our excitement last night.

And you thought I was kidding about needing to get a life...

GILF Dearest

The weeks, they pass so quickly.

My Oakton Patch column is up -- this week, I make reference to private parts, the f-word, my mom and urine.

Again.

The column was fun while it lasted,
Brutalism

UPDATE: Great interview with Kady from A Lady Reveals Nothing at So...What Else? I loved her and her traveling lifestyle even before I got to the part where she listed me as one of  her favorite bloggers. Loved her more after. Check it out!

More From The Disturbing Preschool Art Collection



He certainly did.



Keys To My Happiness

This week's Oakton Patch column is up and it is a milestone of sorts. It is the second column I've written for the Patch that references swinging.

(Brutalism has a much better track record. There are posts about swinging throughout this puppy: here and here and here and here and here and here and even here.) Even my FAQs reference swinging, for the love of God.

But perhaps the greater milestone is that I have now been writing a weekly column for six months -- today, my 26th column was posted. I'm proud that I have been able to keep it up (TWSS) and am enjoying it a lot.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got some new neighbors to meet,
(*licks thumb and pinky on right hand and smooths down eyebrows*)
Brutalism

It Is An Honor Not To Be Nominated...

One of my friends just sent the following, noting that several people in her office had received this "award" today: 

How proud they must be. "Accomplishments." Can you imagine learning that you were in line to receive a professional commendation and this is what it turned out to be? I'd trade in the fancy celebratory dinner I had planned for a six-pack of Pabst (hipster product placement alert).

It just screams "lack of enthusiasm" doesn't it? "Yeah, you had some accomplishments...but we're too tired to name them specifically. Keep up the perfectly competent and satisfactory work, though, tiger lap dog."

Can you think of anything more vague? No, really -- can you? What could be less motivating than this wording on a commendation plaque?

Let's see what you come up with, you perfectly competent commenters,

Brutalism

UPDATE: Rodney at Mental Poo linked to this post in his weekly wrap up.  No. You make me laugh, you sexy bitch, you.

Life Is Great. I Ought To Get One.

Someone found Brutalism last night by googling "Calvin peeing on mixed races." (Brutalism is the number two result that pops up.) I'm guessing it is because of this and this?

This blog is an education every day.

In other, less racist, news my latest Oakton Patch column is up here. I hope you like it. And if you don't -- at least I hope you don't google "Calvin peeing on Brutalism's Oakton Patch column."

TMI On So Many Levels

This past weekend, my partner in crime and I spent an ungodly amount of hours constructing our Peeps diorama for this year's Washington Post contest.

In the wee hours of the morning on Saturday, I bolted upright in bed, knowing that I must do a Snoop Dogg figure -- and not knowing how I would be able to construct his realistic-looking braids. (As realism is paramount when using Peeps as your art medium.)

Then, I remembered the doll heads.

You see, last year, when we did the Blue Man Group as our Peeps diorama, I bought three dolls from the dollar store to use as the Blue Men. We used the bodies but had no use for their heads (insert analogy for Charlie Sheen's "girlfriends" here). However, I've been in the diorama game long enough now to understand that I may need them for a diorama in the future, so I kept them. And in the past year, Canetto, Avery and I have enjoyed playing the doll head game. We take turns leaving the three creepy doll heads on each other's pillows, in each other's underwear drawers, in cereal boxes...so that the other members of our family will come upon them unexpectedly and have a heart attack. Oh -- the hi jinks that ensue!

As it turns out, I found them in the second underwear drawer in which I looked and promptly scalped one and made tiny little Snoop Dogg braids from her hair.

And then I spent the rest of the day questioning my existence.

Duh - Drinking!

This week's Patch column is up. It's about how my husband and I have stayed married for almost twelve years even though we are very different people. (You read it here first -- my husband and I are not conjoined twins.)

How have we achieved this? One word: Beer.

I kid because I love.

Beer.

Check it out.

UPDATE: My Oakton Patch editor (Hi, Nicole!) just e-mailed me to let me know that someone found my column about traveling to Indonesia by doing a search for "diaper fetish." I feel legitimized as a writer.

UPDATE 2: My friend, Jeff, told me last night that he is currently filming a movie with Leo DiCaprio and is in a scene where he speaks to him. I, of course, asked that he please lick Leo for me. He wrote back, "Well, the film is about J. Edgar Hoover, so that action is probably written into the script already."

So....what else? Indeed

Please visit my other blog, The Dilettante Club, to hear about my latest adventure: learning about gargoyles and grotesques. (Which is pretty much what all the Dilettantes looked like after a one-hour walking tour in the middle of a monsoon.)

Also, please visit So...what else? by Sarah Lindahl. She is brilliant, gorgeous, and very, very funny. (I'm not just saying that because she talks about how funny she thinks I am in her FAQs.  Though I am egotistical self-centered shallow honest enough to admit that it is at least part of the reason.)

She's funny. She's worth following. Check her out.

Brutalism vs. Stack o' Crap - Worst WWE Event, Ever

While attacking the stack 'o crap in my kitchen this morning, I came upon my notes from BlogHer 2010, written during the humor panel featuring Lizz Winstead, Jessica Bern and Jennifer, which included nuggets of wisdom like the following:

• How can I do this [promotions/advertising on my blog] without being a whore? (Blogging...and life in general?)



Yeah, I really wrote that. Gawd, my handwriting is terrible.

• Idea for sponsorship: Dilettante Chocolates
• Lizz Winstead is funny -- she said she has written a new self-help book called "Fuck you"
• Follow these humorists: Molly Ivins, Tina Fey, Lynda Barry, David Sedaris, Amy Sedaris (but not too closely...this has gotten you into trouble before...coff coff...Padma Lakshmi)
• Lizz Winstead is funny again -- "I'm not an economist, but I'm not a dipshit."

With note-taking skills like that, my solid 1.95 average in college is beginning to make some sense, isn't it?

If you haven't already, read this week's Oakton Patch column. It is my recap of the Oscars. (And has me wishing I had not edited out my favorite line, "even the usually reliable sartorial insanity of Helena Bonham-Carter was absent -- she was wearing basic black.") So please pretend that is still in there.

Revisionist historian,
Brutalism

Indonesia or Bust?

My latest Oakton Patch column is up today.

It is about (inadvertently) taking our daughter to a fetish festival when she was an infant.

(Which I have noticed is a glaring omission in most baby books under the "milestones" heading.)

Hope you enjoy it as much as Canetto enjoyed the women wearing nothing but body paint,
Brutalism

Where's The FCC When You Need Them?

Last night, I got to meet the people behind some of my favorite blogs in the DC area at a little gathering at Vapiano's in Chinatown. People like:

Lacochran's Bloggery
The Southified Masshole
Always a Drunk, Never a Bride

...and several other bloggers and twitterers.

You never know how something like that will go, but all of them were just as funny and fun in person. (As was Lacochran's husband who shared that his family lives in a small town named Gray, Georgia, and that the fine folks of Gray have let their hometown pride get in the way of smart marketing. To wit: Gray Flowers and Gray Meat Company. Fantastic, no?) Thanks again to Lacochran for organizing this and for inviting me. (For the record, she looks nothing like Bette Midler.)

On my way home from happy hour, I was busy texting with my friend and ended up on the wrong train. This was moments after I jokingly told my husband that if I didn't call him from the Vienna metro by 9:00, it meant that I had been stabbed to death in the parking lot. (I'm hilarious like that.) Of course, the train mix-up meant that I did not get to Vienna until about 9:20. He was so concerned that he was busy reading our kid some books and hadn't even noticed the time. He is totally getting a dryer lint card next Valentine's Day.

In other news, this week's Oakton Patch column is up. My editor asked for a Valentine's-themed column about my husband. Instead, I wrote about words that I hate. Like "lover" and "luscious" and "pustule."

I'm such a romantic.

Check it out, you luscious pustule lovers,
Brutalism

Love In Any Schizophrenic Language

Text conversation between me and my neighbor, Lisa, last night:

Me: My daughter is dropping valentines off in your mailbox for your daughters. One is decorated with a twig, dryer lint, a small plastic wine bottle and a puzzle piece. I have no explanation.

Lisa: No explanation necessary. I totally get it.

UPDATE: Perhaps this is an improvement over last year's valentine or her very first art installation.

Old School

You know how you look back through old school photos and remember a time of innocence? A time of all-American wholesomeness?

Yeah, my parents don't either.

Recently, I was looking through pictures taken of milestone events in my young life -- you know, ring dance, graduation, and that very special night that holds so much promise, requires so much planning and is the subject of all too many teen romcoms -- the night you use your fake ID for the first time at the Jewish Mother when you're on a date and order a carafe of red wine and then complain to the waiter because it is (and I quote) "warm."           

Actually, I'm talking about prom.

Back in high school, I was such a wannabe thrift-store-clothes-wearing, punk rock-loving, weird-guy dating chick. Instead, I was the irregular-Levi's-wearing, new wave-loving, normal-guy dating chick.

Fortunately, I was friends with some of the people I wanted to be like, so I figured I would prove just how "punk" I was by inviting one of these friends to the Bayside prom as my date. (Fun fact: I really did go to Bayside High School. Just like those mischievous imps on Saved by the Bell.)

This, gentle readers, is my prom photo from that night:

I guess this was just a rebellious phase. I'm not really sure what I was rebelling against, but that was kind of beside the point. I was a rebel! And I proved it by attending a school-sanctioned dance wearing the same Gunne Sax Jessica McClintock dress that no fewer than four other girls in my class were wearing.

Talk about sticking it to the man.

My parents did not really understand,  and my mother suggested that one day I would regret this choice.

And guess what? She was totally wrong. It may have been a little unorthodox, but at least I had a completely memorable prom experience that is still fun to reflect upon. As a matter of fact, during the discussion in a book club I was in several years ago, our chat turned to first loves due to a theme in the book we were reading. A woman in the group was talking about how she had dated the same guy all through high school and how they had gone to prom and how it was such a quintessential high school romance.

And to that, I got to reply: "Really? Because I went to prom with a bisexual Robert Smith lookalike."

So all these years later, I don't regret a thing. Except perhaps looking my prom date up on Facebook recently:

(And only because he looks wwwwaaaayyyyy better than I do.)

Lip syncing for my life,

Brutalism