Monthly Archives: October 2010

DIY Design Attempt: Painting Furniture Take 1

I bought this:

It was kind of pricey at $50 at the thrift store but I didn’t want to lose it since it’s perfect for what I need.

I need it to fix this area of my home:

Yeah, not pretty.  I want an open shelving unit I can put pretty wicker/white fabric covered baskets in to hold Anna’s toys that are sitting in our front sitting room/dining room now de facto play area. The pack-n-play is just a useless storage device at the moment and I don’t want to see it anymore. Ugh, go away! I want open baskets so she can amuse herself getting toys and putting them away at will.  Anything “at will” is Anna’s favorite activity…”Anna” and “do” are her trademark phrases these days, along with “nonononono.”  They all basically translate to “let me do it myself or I will have a tantrum kthxbye!”

I want this piece of furniture to match my front room (you can see it in prettier days in this post) and so I am going to attempt to repaint/finish this.  I’m close to decided on an antique black color.  I was also considering a brick red, to pick up on our front door color and the bricks of the fireplace and some accent pieces in the room.

But I feel like unless I “antique” the red color, it will be too brash and loud and I don’t think I can manage to “antique” it properly.  I think I will paint the existing shelves the same color and then add some pretty baskets in the open squares.

I want a finished color sort of like this:

This should be interesting. I have no clue how to do this but as soon as I buy some paint stripper, it’s on!

Also, can Centsational Girl and Martha Stewart team up and move in my house for a week, helping me complete all the projects and home improvement ideas I’ve had written down on a to-do list that boasts a cross-off rate of 1 item per year?  That’s my current fantasy and it can’t be that unattainable, really.

So many of my rooms need crucial fixes before they are closed to finished and I can’t settle on anything besides what I’ve envisioned.

For example, here’s the current state of my master bedroom:

I can’t finish this room until I get this bed:

It’s the only bed I want.  People sell it used for $600! Waaah! I want to finish the artwork over the bed and replace the curtain panels and some other odds and ends but I need a bed first!

Upstairs bath:

Needs beadboard.  I cannot do anything until I possess beadboard here.

You get the idea…Kitchen needs a tile backsplash. Office needs curtains and a rug.

We? Need money.

To be continued…

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Thrift Store Thursday: Shoes Shoes Shoes

So it was a lucky shoe day.  I went to a different thrift store this week, a crazy place in the (relative i.e. not really) ghetto, where badly faked Prada bags are behind the counter priced over $100 and amazingly valuable finds are lost in the racks at a dollar a piece.

I found shoes!  Amazing shoes from the 1950′s first.  I saw them and said, hmm, these must be old.  And awesome.

The brand is called Troylings, which is cute and sounds like Tadpoles or Earthlings or Earthpole Tadlings.  They are from the 1950′s and are so sexified in a retro glamour way.

I have pretty dainty feet at a 6.5 but 6.5 is dinosaur-sized in real retro shoe terms.  These are a vintage 5.5 so basically the women of Little People, Big World and sundry other tiny Teenies only need apply.  For sale at my Etsy shop.

Moving right along from the 50′s to the very, very, very 80′s, I found these awesome gold and black mesh stiletto heels.  They looked kind of nice so I Googled the brand name SusanBennisWarrenEdwards.

Oh, I see.  From Wikipedia:

At this point, Bennis and Edwards changed the original name of the store to SUSANBENNISWARRENEDWARDS and began to design under their own label, which would arguably come to be one of Manhattans hottest footwear retailers and compete with the likes of today’s shoe legend, Manolo Blahnik. Susan Bennis and Warren Edwards were a team of shoes and boot designers who created shoes and boots for the world’s most affluent people. Designing shoes between the late 1970s to mid 1990′s, they were know for creating the most expensive boots and shoes in the world. If you wanted luxurious unique footwear, the team of Bennis and Edwards would produce it. Everything was crafted in very limited runs. The shoes and boots were all handcrafted of the most luxurious leathers, skins, and exotic reptiles known to man. The detailing is spectacular, and unusual.

These are the shoes referenced in “American Psycho.”  I’m not a size 6 either so also for sale on Etsy.

Do you want just toe cleavage or do you want foot fishnet?  Thought so.

Then I found a cute 80′s sable colored pump that I liked, just because.  These are made by Divertente which is an offshoot of Vittorio Ricci, an upscale 80s shoe designer.  I almost got another pair of actual Vittorio Ricci heels and now I wish I did.  Maybe I will go back and see if I can find them again.

These are again a half size too small (they are a 6) so they are for sale but I kind of dig the warm brown color and I might just have to wear them if no one buys them.

Then to round out the shoe-a-thon I found a great pair of 80′s scrunchy fold-down leather cowboy kitten heeled boots by Alberto Molina.

Another size 6! Maybe they all came from the same person.

The best part is that they are bedazzled!  They have a rhinestone detail.

I also found this pretty bright green leather shoulder bag by Tignanello.

I love the color.  I don’t need it though so off it goes to eBay.

And that was the haul.  I am getting really addicted to the amazing find, it’s like a safe and healthy rush, a weird lottery/slot machine effect. I need to do a run without bringing Anna, though, since as delightful as she is, she distracts me and I rush through the store.

Isn’t she delightful?

Hi Nutcracker ballet character whose name I don’t know!

XOXO

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Teen Mom Reunion Special: Celeb Rehab Here We Come

Okay, I’m not sure if I’m ready for Dr. D’s patented snark meets caring.  Snaring: he makes fun and has a superiority complex, yet he cares.  He snares.

He’s even admonishing Maci that Bentley is too old for a pacifier, at 2? Umm, he’s never seen a 4 or 5 year old with one? It’s pretty common.  Remember Celebrity Rehab? I think Kari Ann still had one.  Or needed one, whatever.

Farrah. Dr. D is mad on Farrah’s behalf.  I think they should get together.  This girl needs help.  A sexy grey-haired life partner is just what she needs.  Please note how he is making sure she’s single.

I love the contemptuous tone he assumes when he mentions Farrah and her mom’s “therapy sessions.”  I agree, D.  Those are a joke.  I see the hairdressing father and son duo have been sprucing up Debra’s Farrah Fawcett ‘do.  It’s still absurd but it’s tightened, if that makes any sense.  Not really an upgrade.

“You’ll see when it [the future] comes” is how Farrah “told” her boyfriend she was pregnant.  Right.  I do enjoy Farrah’s annoyed mannerisms.  They are so weird.  She starts speaking like Vickie from Small Wonder.

I do see a resemblance.

Farrah, what happened that day when your mom assaulted you?

“Well, I wanted her to watch Sophia so I could go on a speed-date with my Fake Friend Kristina and then she was all annoying me because she said she had to write a paper so I told her to stop talking all the time and seriously stop breathing because it annoys me so freakin’ much and why can’t we just get along without me having to hear her exist, it’s so unfair that she wants to eat food and pee when I need her to hold Sophia and then all of a sudden we were hitting each other.”

Also, I go to culinary school.  That’s the only reason I’m saying that.

I still don’t understand why Debra thought not telling the kid he was a father made any sense.  Even in her warped world.

Maci.  Ha, she said Farrah had no friends.  This new Maci 2.0 is interesting: she wants to be selfish like all the other Teen Moms and now she’s a badass, calling out the other girls.  Well then, Maci.  Have all the US Weekly cover shoots gone to your head?  Maybe all the Maci is Perfect fans can start to acknowledge that maybe Maci is just the luckiest in terms of support, and not necessarily inherently better at being a teen mom.

Drew : is Kahhhl back?

Maci: Yes

Drew: harrumph/sniff/ eyebrow arch

Hey, Kahl, how do you feel about Maci?

“Wahhl, she understands me when I talk.”

Oh, that’s special.  Really special.  It’s probably just her and Kahl’s Mama on that one.

Too bad Ryan and Kahl didn’t get to meet on stage.  And brawl, or however it goes down in the TN.

Ohhhhhhh! We just learned why Ryan can’t talk. He had a bottle until he was 2!  Now I agree, Maci.  Get that pacifier away from Bentley before he grows up with unintelligble mush Ryan speech.  Okay, seriously, why is Drew obsessed with pacifiers?

Catelynn and Tyler.  Time to grab a snack and hit the bathroom.  3 years ago she slept with her ex from Florida.  Wasn’t she in elementary school 3 years ago?  That always gets me.

April.  Beautiful month to be named after.

How… not fitting.  Is the drug addiction unspoken but assumed here?  Weird.  The only thing that’s been explicit is a supposed alcohol problem in the past.  Is the meth addiction coming out of the closet finally?

Amber.  They’ve saved the best for last.

Ha.  Drew calls it: the last thing Amber needs is “evocative” exercise.

Contrite, sad Amber is kind of worse than regular old psycho Amber.  Poor Amber.  I do feel bad for her at times.  At least Pinsky is trying to be nice to her.  But the “poor me” routine she goes into is a little fake.

Gary’s new hair?

Dr. Drew told us to think about Leia.  Princess Leia? She was fun, I guess.  Now onto Leah…

I think the help Amber needs is called Celebrity Rehab, rage-o-holism edition.  Amber puts on her runny eye-makeup as stripes of self-flagellation.  I still think Leah is the cutest and best baby of all.  Sophia looks like she needs some early intervention of some sort.

Farrah?  We all used to hate you but now you’re okay.

Good news.  Teen Mom will return for a third season.  Now if only we could have a Celeb Rehab all Teen Mom edition with Butch, April, Amber and possibly Ryan processing their feelings in a nice California locale.

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Sister Wives. I see.

This is how I work.  If you took apart my brain to try to figure out its gears and levers and gizmos, you couldn’t understand me any better than by observing what happened to me last night.

I turned on TLC to catch the first episode in a “Sister Wives” marathon. That was 7 pm.  By 10 pm I was furiously searching the Internet for answers to the many, many, oh-so-many questions I had generated from viewing this circus performance reality show. By midnight I was 10 Wikipedia back-links deep, overshooting my preferred bedtime by 2 hours, and jeopardizing my mental health, risking a terrible night’s sleep due to baby waking and baby early waking. Yet I had to know more.

I was watching YouTube videos of FLDS women droning on their talking points about their children “kidnapped” during the YFZ ranch raid.  I was reading excerpts of Carolyn Jessop’s autobiography.  I was ready to drop a mint if I could only find some charity that works to rescue the girls from these PEOPLE OH MY GOD SOMEONE HELP THEM.

All because of Kody and the gang.  Kody and his sad, sad, gang.  Oh, TLC Circus Masters, who’s the saddest clown of them all? Meri with her fate worse than death of having, gasp, only one child and her highly depressing anniversary dinner? Janelle with her office job she uses to help pay for husband to take a new woman out to dinner with and her obviously celibate existence? Or Christine, the most powerless wife of them all, third and soon to be forgotten in the novelty of number 4? Christine already has the most ghetto apartment-area in the house, and now that she’s not the “newest” wife, what does she have going for her in this power struggle of weirdness?

Or is it Robyn, the dim bulb whose 30 years look like an easy 42? Who has a suspicious past of abuse and a sad longing to join the Narcissist and his ladies?

Or is it the Narcissist himself, who has a carefully arranged narcissism support system around him, these depressingly-attired low self-esteemed women who mince around their words, careful to always compete in a game of pleasing him the most?

No, I think it might be Meri’s eldest, a dumb as rocks kid who thinks she’s destined to Naval Academy medical training, just as soon as she gets her GED and graduates from Polygamy Homeschooling Academy.

Mariah?

I found a great sleep-away school that is really interested in your application.  You’ll love it: you’ll get to wear a bluish-gray uniform and do awesome medical stuff like deliver your own 8th inbred child with only a rock and a plaid quilt.

You can thank me later.

I am seriously considering recapping this show. I know the season is almost over, but without Teen Mom, I’m at sea.

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Thrift Store Thursday: Vase and Jar Edition

What I bought at half-priced Wednesday at the local Salvation Army:

I know! I’m awesome at this! Let’s unpack.

When I saw these I thought, Helvetica! These have to be special. And they are: vintage 1970′s Triomphe glass canning jars made in France.  These would be an awesome style element as display canisters in a modern, French country, or vintage kitchen.  I wish I had a vintage kitchen with a farm sink and bright colors, but alas I have a marble countered so-so kitchen that came with our house.

In other words, this is my dream kitchen type:

Image from CountryLiving.com

And this is my kitchen (which isn’t terrible, it’s just not what I would have chosen if I had designed it from scratch):

So they don’t really go in my home and I’ll be selling these on Etsy.

This was just a beautiful ashy blue-gray color which could match my dining room.  I also noted the “American Handblown Glass” label…this demands more research. What is it? From whence did it come?

Another display item, this is a Pier 1 earthenware tea set.  This decidedly does not fit into my decor, but I thought it was pretty and I know someone would love it.  So this goes for sale as well, probably on eBay.

Oh, and I got these shoes for myself. I needed some all-purpose semi-dressy wedges.

Aren’t those paintings pretty?  They were painted by W’s grandmother, and we somehow got our little mitts on them.  We are going to hang them in the office.  It’s been painted for a while but I haven’t finished picking out curtains and a rug.  I will definitely do a post on the decor when it’s done.

On an unrelated to thrifting note, I realize I spend a lot of time on this blog judging the Teen Moms and sundry others.  I feel the need to atone.  Today I bought sushi at the supermarket.  And ate it.  Judge me.

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Teen Mom Finale: At Least You Are Not Amber Portwood

Catelynn and Tyler. Don’t forget about April, as if that’s even possible.  I’m going to be her for Halloween, I think.  That way I’ll always remember her.

See, if I was driving along the Interstate and I saw this, I’d assume a 13-year-old stole their dad’s car and is now joy-riding with his braces-wearing girlfriend. But I’d be wrong, because it’s just Tyler.

Guys, Brandon & Teresa don’t actually want you to touch their daughter.  Your cooties are most likely contagious. They don’t want Carly to suddenly develop meth face and start driving a wood-paneled van.

Anyone else notice how often Tyler squees? I mean there is no other word for this:

Squee!

He does it again when they pull up to the picnic site. “SQUEE! I see her!” Aww, I guess it’s kind of cute.  Eh, not really.

I can’t imagine how sad and touching it would be to encounter your own daughter a year after she was born.  Carly was really sweet and cute.  She reminded me of my daughter when she hugged the stuffed animal and pointed to her tummy, Anna’s current twin obsessions.

Catelynn seemed to hold Carly at arms’ length, literally and figuratively.  I could understand why.

Cry.

C&T seemed like natural parents. More cry.  I guess I just never got behind the whole adoption thing.  I understand they wanted better for Carly, but I think short of abuse and drug addiction, etc., financial superiority alone doesn’t equal superior parenting.  I know some would disagree, but I think if C&T got away from their parents they could have been loving parents to Carly.

Emergency scrapbook session!

Tyler is definitely the lost male member of The Babysitter’s Club. Hey Logan!

I think Catelynn does this thing where she wants to please everyone and show how mature and okay she is with everything, that she actually goes into a bit of denial and then has to deal with it later.

Farrah. Debra, the first rule of arranged marriages is not to choose a potential son-in-law that works at a hair salon.  Unless of course, your main motivation is not your daughter’s happiness but rather free frosting and layering for life.  Woo-hoo! Also, do we trust anyone who is responsible for Debra’s mane? I mean, what kind of offspring could a criminal like that even end up with?

Hmm, I see he’s wearing skinny pants and has a bouffant of sorts, but he seems straight to me.  Maybe Debra just owned me. But I think she still looks like a felon. An 80′s mail fraud felon to be exact.

Ha! Sophia proves that babies can never be tricked by plastic imitations! I love babies. They’re such characters.

Oh! I just figured out why perhaps-gay-Julian agreed to go out with Farrah and why his dad tried to fix his son up.  To promote the brother’s restaurant!  So wily, family.

Does Farrah have an ethnic background from her father that she doesn’t share with Debra? Is it Armenian or something Middle Eastern? Persian? Is that what Julian is as well? Google said she was Greek but I don’t think that seems right. [Funny, that search also revealed questioners asking if Amber is an Asian Adjacent, per Margaret Cho.]

“Since I let Julian promote his brother’s restaurant on MTV, I haven’t heard from him.”  Maybe when his sister’s clothing boutique opens, he’ll take you to a movie, and then a visit to buy some fabulous clothes.

Ha, Farrah, you are too much.  She wants to be a normal tenant, but not sign anything besides her own insane made-up ramblings.  “I know what applies to me and what doesn’t apply to me.” We know, Farrah. That we know.

She wants her mom to help her out as a family favor but then she carps to her that she can’t handle objective business? HA!

Although it’s funny that Debra wanted her to pay an application fee.  The application was being your first-born.

Maci. Okay, so I had a moment of total confusion when I thought Ryan was asking Maci if she ever got those peppers. Did he need some special Nashville hot peppers to make a great salsa recipe he’d heard about and Maci promised to bring them to him?

Oh. PAPERS. Ha. Also, not to be a New York snob or anything, but I would never eat in a place that looked like this:

Maybe I’m missing out on some delicious barbecue or home-cooked Southern food but I doubt it.

I also thought Ryan asked Maci how night school was working out for her. I was all, what? huh? night school? but he actually said “Nashville.” Maci can’t even understand what the hell he’s saying anymore. Is he chewing tobacco while he speaks?

I guess in Tennessee you don’t need fancified e-lectronic labels and stuff for your bidness letters. I love Tennesee! Also, I love how they are getting divorced before they get married.  See how teen motherhood ages you?

Amber. New boyfriend creeps me out! I know there is gossip circulating that he’s a registered sex offender and whether that’s true or not (all signs point to no) he still gives me a weird feeling. I guess he gives the Internet a weird feeling, too, giving rise to these rumors. Go away, Chris. Leave my BFF Baby Leah alone. The whole Amber train is leaving the happy to make fun of station and chugging along toward sad and tragic junction. If Chris isn’t the molester she lets move in, I’m sure there will be one in a few years. I’ve watched enough Intervention episodes to know how this works.

The producers agree.  They want to show us something about Amber.

They cannot remain silent any longer. You know, sometimes I feel bad that my house doesn’t look like a Country Living feature spread, and my daughter isn’t always impeccably dressed, and I don’t cook 5-course meals every night. Guess what? I FEEL BETTER NOW.

This guy Chris is a pro.  He doesn’t only want to mooch off of Amber, he wants to mooch off of Gary, too.  Keep an eye on him: he might snatch Leah’s ice-pop.

“I could see myself spending the rest of my life with you. Hey, can I borrow the car quick?”

HA!

Amazing how much of a catch Gary Shirley seems right about now, isn’t it?

“I finally have some time to relax.” HAHAHAHAHAH.  Amber, your life is a big relaxing pile of poo.  All you do is sit down.  I guess it’s not relaxing unless you’re actually lying down in your bed?

Also, Gary’s missing the point here.  I understand Amber has parenting problems but they aren’t toddler knee scratches from playing in the park and dirty toddler clothes.  It’s everything else, Gary.

Amber, why is your only insult to Gary that he’s a fatass? You used to be a fatass, too, dude, before you took up amphetamine abuse.

Wow, I forget how skinny she got.  I’m glad to see she’s taking her abuse on the road now.

“I can’t talk to you over the phone because I can’t punch you in the gut over the phone!”  Seriously, what’s happened since last season?  Amber used to be borderline between sympathetic and villianious.  Now she’s straight out evil-giggling after pursuing Gary down the road to beat him.  She needs a cartoon superhero to take her down at this point.

So I had a roommate once with a cocaine problem and they slept a ton and also lost a lot of weight.  I’ve also heard of cokeheads having anger problems.  So I think I’m retracting my accusations of speed use and postulating a cocaine addiction.  And Chris is definitely a dealer-type. Maybe that’s why she says Chris calms her down.  Forget rehab, counseling, Zoloft, and possibly the acquisition of religion.  All Amber needs is Chris, the dude who just got out of jail that she met at Walmart and now lives with her.

Amber is a master at Freudian projection.

Well, Dr. Drew.  Nice to see you waltz here in now. Little late for that, huh?

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Something Worse

Wait, what was that number one lesson of parenting that I should have learned by now, a year into the gig? Don’t complain, because it could get worse? Yup, that’s it.

Anna got roseola, which actually wasn’t that bad. She had a fever which Tylenol helped, and didn’t want to eat but she still managed to mostly sleep at night and we continued on our merry weekend way, going to a Fall Festival in our town, the playground, dog park, and trying to relax. But her crankiness just increased. Hourly. By the end of the three-day weekend, I was completely drained. Walt was home, luckily, and helped. But I was really starting to learn what the extreme, desperate end of my patience reserves felt like, and it wasn’t pretty.

It would start as soon as she woke up. Whining. Hysterical crying over terrible injustices, such as: Mommy and Daddy taking away the cereal box that she was slowly emptying into the dog’s mouth but mostly onto the floor; setting her down, lovingly, with an array of musically engaging toys; offering her tidbits of food and drink (the incorrect tidbit of food or drink, obvs!) and inanimate objects that refused to move or function exactly as Anna wanted them to in that given moment of time.

Throwing her body on the floor when an injustice was particularly injust was another theme. Toys, cuddling, holding, sleeping, distractions, outings, were all found to be highly inadequate at the job of getting Anna to stop crying, whining, or tantruming.

It was oh-so brutal. I resorted to my primary self-preservation strategy: Googling, which taught me that some babies act totally fine while suffering from roseola, and others can be a bit clingy and cranky. So when I put that information through the Anna-Translation-Presto-ChangeO-Machine, the output is that we must suffer the wrath of the crankiest baby ever in the history of the world to the point of death. There’s a mathematical formula for that, the Anna factor. It’s coincidentally probably also the same factor that explains why the stars in the universe are getting further apart from each other, contrary to rules of gravity and such.

So then, of course, the only next thing that could happen would be a turn for the worse. The fever broke, the roseola rash appeared, good I thought, we are moving on. Then came last night. She cried. At 9pm. She screamed in pain. She writhed. She moaned. She hysterically melted down. She couldn’t sleep. We couldn’t sleep. We got a snatch of sleep around 1 am until 3 am. Infant Motrin was liberally applied. Our bed was tried, the crib was tried again, sleeping upright in the rocking chair was attempted. Thunder and lighting added to the hellish effect.  The dog cowered in the nursery, equally terrified of Anna’s screaming which was the most piercing we’d ever heard in her life and the crashing and booming outside. At one point he shivered on my lap, all 50 pounds of his awkward long coonhound body contorted on top of me.

Finally at 4 am another snatch of sleep. My poor husband had to wake up at 6:30 and go to work. I slept, fitfully, with the intermittently moaning and thrashing Anna until 10, blessedly, mercifully. A trip to the pediatrician this morning didn’t show an ear infection as I assumed must have been the case. So the mystery continues which means tonight is a scary prospect.

It can always get worse.

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Major Discovery

Gary?

Meet Gary.

Unless you’ve already met. Because you’re the same person.

Sorry, but the old facial hair and glasses switcheroo and assumed Romanian identity can’t fool me.

And this, how have I not heard of this before?

I wonder if he’s related to Anne Shirely, that irascible redheaded orphan. If so, her genes have really bottomed out since 1919. I bet he’s descended from that dumbass Rilla.

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Teen Mom Episode 11: Already Going on a Date with a Guy I Met at Walmart

Farrah. Too bad there was no paternity shocker. I thought for sure Sophia was Dr. Drew and Attorney Jingleheimer’s love child.

“Sophia’s still with my mom, because I’m going to let her take over the care of my daughter all over again.” Why do these girls go out to eat more than I do? Not fair.

This whole contrived trip to the park to look through Daddy’s pictures?

Sorry, not enough to make us care about Farrah this episode.

Catelynn & Tyler. “Between not graduation, giving away my baby, not getting to see the baby even though they said I could, my mom being a psycho-meth-beast, my broken and broke family, the cold oppression of the Michigan winter/spring/summer/fall, our van’s wood paneling, the futile yet inexorable march toward death, decay, and inevitable meaninglessness, and the death of God and all morality, and not to mention my boyfriend’s pre-pubescence, I’ve been feeling a little down.”

You and me both, kid.

Don’t be nervous about going to West Virginia. You guys are going to fit in fabulously. The White Baby Broker is disallowing C&T to be sad on their trip. She’s such a manipulator.

What are you crazy kids dressed as for Halloween?

Ravers from the 90s? Bumblebees?

Catelynn, work on your timing.

Hey, April. You’re telling me the state of Michigan doesn’t have some remedial typing class for the chronically unemployed you can get in on?

Catelynn, MOVE OUT.

“Here’s a scrapbook of how we had sex at the age of 11 and here’s a picture of your Grandpa Butch when he was paroled that time in 2004. I hope you like it, Carly!”

I love how Tyler is an 18 year old male who scrapbooks. I think this calls for a reality TV Big Brother program for disadvantaged Tyler to be mentored by Simon Van Kempen.

They could do educational shopping trips on Madison Avenue and stuff.

It is hard to tell who’s the mom and who’s the daughter when everyone is shopping in Juniors.

Maci. She must have made some teen vampire blood pact with Kahhl, because she’s so incredibly certain she will never ever break up with her 18-year-old boyfriend.

“My new 18 year old boyfriend and I are going to potty-train my toddler! Then he’s going to break up with me, because, well, what I just said.”

Maci’s friend is very astute when she points out a preemptive excuse of being tired is suspect.

Maci is getting sloppy in her spray-tan application.

The cracks in the Maci Facade of Perfection are showing! Next thing we know she’ll be dating ex-cons at Walmart and pummeling Ryan in stairwells.

And anyway, Maci doesn’t need another Chronic Fatigue Syndrome boyfriend. She already has Ryan for that.

Wow, Kahhl really put a lot into saving their relationship. That was definitely worth transferring colleges for, moving a toddler away from extended family, and entering a legal custody battle with your child’s father. Totally. Worth. It. And not foreseeable. At. All.

Like Kahhl himself said, “Him’s not ready for that.”

Amber. I’m going to just go ahead and issue an Amber Alert. She’s off her meds. She doesn’t want to put Leah through the ordeal of going to court. Which really means she’s scared any judge in her right mind would send Amber to anger-management classes. And I don’t mean Krav-Maga.

I love how now that the threat of legality impends, Amber has cleaned up her language and is all fancy-talkin’, calling Leah her “baby.” No more “my kid!”

“Within one week I lost my girl, my house, and 30 pounds.” LOL. Gar-bear.

I’m glad Amber already found a co-Walmart-shopper to date. It was time.

Seriously, what is going on with Amber? In every shot of the last 4 episodes, she’s been in semi-recline on the couch in a dimly lit room and barely responsive to her daughter. Her tadpole eyebrows are shrinking again, which is a sure sign of mental duress.

“I’m sorry for hitting you. Next time I’mma tie you to the bedpost and set this house on fire.”

And of course the universal question any mother asks of her child, when child has been in the extended care of their father: “What the hell are you wearing?!”

What is with this couple and their obsession with where their partner met the other man or woman? Hint: It’s Walmart. It’s always Walmart.

I’ve never seen anyone live their life from an under-the-bed-covers position as much as Amber, except for maybe the cast of Jersey Shore. Amber should replace Angelina. She’s perfected the inexplicable lay down in bed in full eveningwear pose.

I don’t think she’s Italian, but we’ll make an exception. Plus, she has brown hair.

What is Gary’s annual 1-800-Flowers budget? I think it exceeds his food budget (Cracker Barrel budget). He wants to make a civil guess-ture to Amber. He’s guessing she might be civil when she gets them, but then again he’s guessing she might react like a feral animal?

Flower lady is about to stage an intervention. This guy is buying flowers to say he’s sorry for not ducking the punch and having such a hard head and hurting his girlfriend’s fist, and then the girlfriend is calling and yelling at him to watch their baby so she can date another guy. This is what the flower lady thinks about that:

Let’s join in her a chorus of “mmm-hmm!

Poor Gary. Don’t cry. Amber, that black felt bow on your outfit just accentuates your Minnie Mouse resemblance.

Evil Minnie Mouse.

Let’s bullet point all the ways in which Amber’s date FAILS:

  • Driven by Amber to dinner
  • Facial “hair”
  • “Tattoo”
  • “Where we goin’ to eat?” [Ed. note: Cracker Barrel you fool!]
  • Before he met Amber he “got into trouble.” [Well, looks like there's some more of that coming your way. She's about 5'3" and half-corn-rowed.]
  • The best day of your life is the day you met Amber. But it was also a “horrible day.” So the best day of your life was another in an unending series of horrible days, made better by the sight of Amber. That’s some life. That makes Catelynn and Tyler’s lives seem like an episode of My Super Sweet 16.
  • He loves the idea of a girlfriend with a baby? Creepy.
  • Going in for the first kiss on the heels of the “I have a baby” talk.
  • Nose kiss. Ew.

I’m going to go out on a really weird limb right now and say a skinny Gary could be cute.

Sneak previews for next week’s season finale! So sad it’s ending, so not surprised that Debra’s attempts to completely control Farrah’s life have been escalated to attempting arranged marriages. I can’t wait.

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