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Janel lives in Florida. She is a dog lover, a Mac User, an all-around Pisces. She makes greeting cards and is highly addicted to movies. Janel may often be found speed walking and using copious amounts of lemon and pepper seasoning. Her weakness lies in acquiring nice underwear. Habitually, a pack rat. Instinctively, a story-teller.

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All content is copyright '03 - '05 (c) to Janel.

This site was created with the help of Bronwyn.
January 31, 2003
teapot

When I was picking out a new teapot, I couldn't help but hear the teapot song singing in my head. I hate that the words don't say, "I'm a big teapot. Tall and thin." I'd trade in anything to look like a glass vase or pitcher, showing just enough curves in the right places and a slight curl to my lip. But the thought went away just as soon as I stepped further into the store and was blinded by all the shine. There are several sure fire guarantees in life: the coriolis effect in Australia, the groundhog poking its head out, and new cookware always shiny.

I have a weakness for Pottery Barn catalogs and Crate & Barrel stores. I often imagine furnishing a bachelorette pad that I don't even have yet. The little things like teapots and other small items of the house I break down and buy anyway.

I've always wanted a teapot. For years, I browsed. I'd choose color, shape, brand, quality. I wanted whistle vs. non-whistle. But at my house, we'd stick with the now-defunct yellow brown Polly Pot and boiling water in a small pot. I've longed for something to whistle at me...even if it was a kettle.

So about 2 weeks ago, I saw a clearance Michael Graves teapot at Target. I should've known better. It was just under 14 dollars, snappy looking, and sported a coach whistle. The whistle would have to be removed before pouring the water. That was inconveinence number one. Who wants to touch a scalding whistle when there are teapots whose lid can be flipped back and already attached? I didn't like the handle either. You have to use a potholder where the rubber bit doesn't cover. The whistle didn't blow unless it was placed inside in a particular direction. And everytime it started to steam, the lid would bounce for the steam to escape. After three uses, I returned it for a refund.

Never buy something just because it looks pretty. (This is a lesson in life altogether with books and covers.) I noticed this with Martha's items too from Kmart. Looks nice but cheaply made. This followed for the Todd Oldham items sold over the summer from Target as well. Me? I prefer substance over style. Well almost always. But I do know I want quality. That usually requires paying for it.

But sometimes I get lucky. I saw this store and it called to me. And that's where I found my blindingly shiny stainless steel teapot regularly priced fifty five dollars selling for nineteen ninety nine. There were a few coloured teapots near the front window. Further down the aisle, were 2 rows of teapots, ranging in size, style and price. I chose the second to the largest just in case I ever have guests and there's enough hot water to go around. The other thing I bought was a 17" x 13" insulated non-stick cookie sheet. I'll buy a second if this works well.

I'll get use to it. Eventually, I will break the old caveman days of heating water in a plain pot. It's the 2000's now, and I want to start using Farberware. I'll probably be protective over it for the next few months commanding, "Don't handle it that way!" or "Don't wash it with that side of the sponge!" I'll empty the water out when it's cooled and let it dry with the lid off to the side. When no one's looking, I'll be shining the fingerprints away with a dish towel. Really though, I love it when the water is ready. It lets me know, and the coolest part is I don't have to try very hard to get the damn thing to whistle at me.
posted by Janel on 7:50 PM

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January 12, 2003
nite gown

It's not like I ever planned for making this a resolution. The things I know need changing just have their way of making it to the surface. For instance the past few months, I've known it'd be a better idea to stop sleeping on my stomach when the pains in my neck started getting so bad. Every morning half of me was rested. The other felt the stress in my shoulders and neck.

But then there was this thing about ruining another set of pjammas from On-the-Spot. My sleeves always became bleached sometime during the night. In between having my arms folded above, below, and between the pillows, they'd come in contact with my face. I've messed up one of my prized fish patterned shortie sets.

Finally after a few years of wearing the same Winnie-the-Pooh night gown, I bought a new one to start the new year off right. And of course, being the loyal patron of Victora's Secret that I am, I was accounted for several times during this two week semi-annual sale. And that's where my new pale blue cotton night shirt found me. (I'm a firm believer that all things that are meant to be are the ones that find you. Otherwise how will you know if all the things that you seek were meant for you and you alone. And was suppose to happen.)

This is suppose to be a year of transformation. Suppose to be. Whatever is suppose to come of that, I've been trying it out with my new night gown. I haven't been successful every night. It's only when it's dead cold in the house --which it has been from a tempermental heater that only kicks in when it's in the 70's outside and sunny-- and I'm bundled up so tightly like an eggroll under the layers of my blankets that I manage to remain stationary throughout the whole slumber. I swear I could spell out my whole name in smoke formation from my very purple lips.

In November, a man saw how cold I was and said my lips were purple.

It's hard breaking habit. I can take way over an hour to fall asleep when I'm on my back. I can't fall under. I did go "to hell with it" twice and flipped over onto my stomach. So far I've been lucky. My night gown is still blue just like I bought it. Of course, I was sprawled out completely with all four limbs extended. Much like my dogs do on a summer day when they let all legs askew so their bellies can touch the cool cement of the garage floor.


posted by Janel on 7:07 PM

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January 8, 2003
meantime I needed a place for when the real site goes up. This is for the meantime.
posted by Janel on 2:11 PM

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