Author: gettincarriedaway

Cooler than a cucumber, nuttier than a can of Planters™.... Love: Jukebox Heroes! Hate: Smooth Criminals! Addiction: Adrenaline rush, grammatically correct e-mails, 9-letter words, using hand rails for safety and escalators to my advantage, excessively large purses, any and everything banana. Obsession: Oliver, my hybrid pooch Speciality: I "open mouth-insert foot" at least once a day! Yes, my closet is color coordinated and my steering wheel thinks I'm the next American Idol

Pinterest Princess, Holiday Edition

I am as guilty as the next one. You know who you are; lunch breaks spent “pinning,” your dream kitchen has it’s own board, and you’d do just about anything to get your hands on a Michael’s coupon.

Since the summer, I too, have joined the world of Pinterest. No mason jar is safe, no surface I can’t chalkboard paint!

So in the spirit of the holiday season – and with the courage of a few DIY pins – I took to the notion that I would create a ornament wreath for my front door.

Enter the glue gun. Me and my trusty (and VERY hot) sidekick were plugged in and ready. First, I threw a freshly dry cleaned shirt on the bed and stole borrowed the hanger. Metal hangers rock! Leaving the twisty part alone, I bent the main frame until it resembled a circle. Then, I untwisted the metal just below the curved hanger. Careful, my advice is to use pliers and possibly the closest body builder available. Yes, I poked my finger a few times and the metal isn’t quite as easy to manipulate as I thought.

Then it was time to decorate. I had an old plastic tub of a collection of Christmas ornaments that had been hodge-podged together over the years and several were missing or broken. Reminder: you will want to make sure that the ornaments are different sizes and colors so that you get a nice full effect to your wreath.

Before you begin to “string” your ornaments, gently lift the metal top and apply a few dots of hot glue. then firmly press the top back on. You can opt out of this step, but as I learned the hard way after stringing half the ornaments, the weight of the wreath will cause them to fall and possibly break. Better safe then sorry.


When placing your ornaments on the wire, alternate sizes and colors. Be sure to nest each ornament so that the wreath is full and you cannot see any of the wire. I placed a few in the middle and then worked from both side wot fill the wreath. This was the easiest way for me to make sure that the wreath stayed balanced in ornament size and color.

Once the wreath is full, simply twist the metal back together at the top and reshape the hook if needed. I finished mine off with a threading of bright gold ribbon to hide the hook.



A Year Later. A Letter to my Son.

I’ve seen many variations to this; some full of hopes and dreams, some full of advice and wisdom, some written in sequence, some simply gushed out as loving prose from parents full of aspirations for their children.

After realizing that I managed to raise a loving, healthy, advantageous, and most of all inspirational young man to the ripe old age of one, I am ready to write a letter to my son, expressing all that I hope he learns in the many years to come.

To my precious little boy,

I hope that you learn to listen, love, and live like tomorrow will always come.

I wish for you a heart that knows trust and honesty, and never falters from sharing that, in turn, to others.

I want for you to be surrounded by friends and family that test you, support you, and rely on you.

I pray for you to find happiness in being yourself. Know that you’re the king of being you and no one else does it better than you.

I desire for you a path that is bumpy, winding, and sometimes uphill. Character building happens in greater proportions on the roads less traveled.

Know your strength.

Don’t tell your mother everything, but know you can tell your mother anything and she will still love you.

Save for a rainy day and eat dessert.



I Un-resolve To….

Every year, every single year.  You know who they are –  From January to mid-February they occupy your treadmill at the gym, take over the break room fridge with fresh fruit, and post motivational quotes everywhere – the “New Year Resolutioners.”

Hey, I’ve done it before too.

But not this year! 2012 is my year of un-resolutions.  No more declarations of doing, this year I have dedicated myself to a decree of stopping.

Humor me ….

In 2012 I un-resolve to:

5.  Pretend I am not looking at the screen of the person next to me at the gym.  In 2012 I will stare directly at your distance, speed and calories burned.  I’ll admit it, I want to know. I will judge you / adjust mine accordingly.

4. Pick fantasy football teams for their jersey color. In 2012 I will make it known that I strongly believe the following: Atlanta will cover the spread; don’t take Dallas; Flacco struggles against the 3-4, take Tampa; Cincinatti will get 13.5 at the Jets; don’t bet more than $1 on any game where Seattle or KC is playing; Tim Tebow is part man, part Greek god.

3.  Be “that” girl who spells everything out. 2012 is obv toats the year off abbrevs! They’re super presh and abso adorbz. However, I will continue to wage my personal war against PiPl WhO TyPe Lik Diz!

2.  Settle. In 2012 I will spread my wings, take chances, find that place where my heart meets my mind…. and eat more vegetables.

1.  Rinse and repeat. In 2012 I will remember that once is enough.

Best wishes to you all on a happy, healthy, thriving year for you and yours. And remember, that world can’t end in 2012 – Marty drove the DeLorean to 2015, you’ve got some time!

It’s been a good year

Has it really been a year?!

Reflecting on the fact that it has been almost exactly one year since my last post (gasp!), I have decided to attempt to recap the entirety of highlights from 2011 – it’s been a good year.  Oh, and I’m gonna do it in a third person narrative.

*Insert that catchy little ESPN highlight jingle here*

When we last left Carrie, January 2010, she was waddling around nearly seven months pregnant and completely in denial that knee-high brown leather boots with 4″ heels was not the appropriate footwear to be wearing.

Kidding, I seriously couldn’t keep that up the whole post!

The early months of 2011 were spent on newborn retail acquisitions, moving into a new home, and eating french fries in obscene quantities.

BBB (Beautiful Baby Boy) arrived in mid April 2011 – not without a dramatic entrance.  For the next 8 weeks, I went offline, un-blowdried, and under 3″.

Returning to work in mid-June brought on a whole host of new challenges, errr, I mean opprtunites to reafirm just how little sleep one person can function on.  Back in the saddle of work/life balance, I was in for the ride of my life.  It may be taboo to say, but I was actually looking forward to getting back to work, to adult interaction, and to seven reasons a week to wear heels.

Every morning was spent kissing BBB goodbye before sunrise….

…. and arriving home in time to smother him with more smooches before he went to sleep for the night.  Yes, you read that correctly (caution: mom brag), BBB slept through the night starting at 9 weeks!

The summer went by fast – a blur of play dates, working weekends, and watching BBB grow and grow.

We went to the zoo and saw bears

When Fall came, the fun continued.

We picked apples at Apple Hill

We hunted for pumpkins at the pumpkin patch

It was an adventurous Summer and Fall – for the whole family. DD started a new job; I have taken the jump into 1099 services for interactive media, blog, and marketing as side work; and BBB just continues to grow, discover, and amaze everyday.

Here we are, the verge of December 2011, and it’s safe to say…. it’s been a good year.

Puddle Jumping

“Let the rain kiss you. Let the rain beat upon your head with silver liquid drops. Let the rain sing you a lullaby. ”
– Langston Hughes

This past weekend was prime conditions for a favorite Winter past time of mine …. jumping in puddles!

I awoke to the rhythmic thumping sound on my roof and a smile immediately spread wide across my face.  I sprang to the window …. YES!!!

I threw on an old pair of jeans, a coat, and my oh so FABULOUS POLKA DOT RAIN BOOTS. Quickly I glanced around to see if Oliver was ready to go too – surely my frantic speech rate and giddy tone had his tail wagging. “Oliver,” I shouted, “Let’s go, time for a walk.”


Unsolicited offer of a walk …. nothing.  He might have raised an eyebrow.

Ok, so not so much.  Let’s just say that Mr. O doesn’t exactly share my enthusiasm for rain, or mornings, or anything not involving 70 degree temps and a pillow.

Enough about that, puddles were rapidly forming and I could already feel the cool splash creeping up my legs. Out the door I fled.

It was joyous!

The rain was still pouring down, slapping me in the face with every leap. I gave myself a 6 on quality of puddles found, and an 8 for distance.

I can hardly wait until the next rainy weekend day.  I plan to do it up even bigger – a little singin’, a little dancin’.


Worth At Least 2,000 Words!

It happens, it always does.  One minute you’re clicking through your Flickr album, perusing the Facebook archives or scrolling your way down digital camera memory lane and then WHAMMY!

I present, “Worth at least 2,000 words – When Bad Pics Happen To Good People”

*Never fear, these are all of me so none other than my ego was harmed in the making of this post*

Because one Port-O-Potty is never enough background fodder

No really, this face just happens to everyone forced to wear an Alex Smith jersey.

Fear the thumbs!!!

See – I really do look better after a tall cold one.

There I go again, overexposing myself in Las Vegas.

At least I was color-coordinated.  Yay beer!


Happy Photoshop to you all and to all a high-resolution zoom lens.

If you bake it, you’ll have to bake more

In this corner:  with a domestic empire, perfect hair and a questionable insider trading record … Martha Stewart

In this corner:  with color coordinated oven mitts,  perfect shoes and the guarantee to burn beyond recognition at least one meal a week … Carried Away

The challenge: Pumpkin pie

Winner, by unanimous and extremely partial decision – Carried Away!

*end dream sequence*

No, seriously, I did bake a pumpkin pie; actual photo above.  However, I was not prepared for the aftermath of this particular baked goods odyssey.

I followed my mother’s recipe word for word.  Remembering that “tsp” is not the same as “tblsp,” I mixed and stirred and rolled and poured.  Oliver and I sat, staring into the oven for the entire 50 minutes.  Then voila!  There it was.

It should be known that personally, I hate pumpkin pie.  My favorite pumpkin activity is carving it  – first only to throwing it away.  But, the loves in my life love the pumpkin so therefore I bake. O, but if I’d only known what I was getting into…

If you bake it, you’ll have to bake more!

Early reports from the kitchen table revealed that half the pie was gone in less than 12 hours of completion, with the remainder not expected to make it through the night.  Clearly I have set a precedents that I in no way intend to uphold.  I knew my success would come back to haunt me.

Next time I feel domestic, I am taking the dive and giving Marie Callender’s the TKO!

My world, gone flat

It is no news flash that I have a deep affinity for high altitude footwear.  Platform, wedge, stiletto, peep-toe, sling-back, you name it and I’ve got it … in every color.

Unless I am at the gym, I am in heels – high heels.  I am Amel DeMarcos on a Top Ramen budget.  Give me something black, leather, 4″ tall, under $150 and I am in heaven; nothing else matters.

…. until this happened ….

Early this week I began to notice something – all podiatric preferentials aside, putting my foot into anything taller than 1″ has me meandering like a Neanderthal on stilts.

The time has come, everyone warned me.

My world has gone flat!

Please join me in hanging up my favorite pair of heels *tear*

And join me in welcoming the newest player to my all-star line-up

Sexy? …  Heavens No!

Eye-catching? …  Definitely Not!

Face plant preventing? … MOS DEF!

Never fear, I refuse to completely shun my marvelous toe toppers.  When and where appropriate ( see: sitting down) I promised myself to still sport a few good inches of prized patent leather.  Though, until next April, I feel those chances to be few and far between.

Until then, I’m stuck down here – 5’9″, stable and standing.

Grocery Cart Fugitive

I felt like an absolute criminal.

(In his best Keaneu Reeves voice) “You’ve gone…. too far …”, said the blandly grey-suited man who roled up in his gold Crown Vic with the roundy-round yellow light on top.

“Look, lady, just leave the cart there.”

I near about dropped my Rice-a-Roni and Cheetos as I whipped my head around to see what was going on.  Here I was, alone in the Super Wal-mart (gasp) parking lot – just stocking up on the Sunday morning necessities. 

He was talking to me!

Doing his due diligence, rent-a-cop (RAC)) parked his vehicle, got out and approached my grocery cart. 

NOW WHAT HAD I DONE?!  Could I play the “I’m pregnant” card for sympathy? Did I have enough cash in savings for bail? Did I remember to buy paper towels, I think they were on sale….

“Ma’am, you can’t take the cart that far!”

Unknowingly, I had parked so far into the reaches of the parking lot that I had activated the little alarmy thingy that goes off to prevent people from stealing the shopping carts.  The wheels had those red locking devices and they had clicked down.

I was a criminal, THAT girl, I had tried to five-finger discount a Wal-mart shopping cart – unintentionally of course.

I tried to explain to the RAC that I had no clue what was going on and that yes, this was my car …. yes, here is my receipt, I did pay for these groceries. Geez, you attempt to steal one little grocery cart and suddenly you lose all retail credibility.

I closed my trunk, apologized and strategically backed out and around the now immobile grocery cart and proceeded home to enjoy my Cheetos.

In my rearview mirror I saw that poor RAC still struggling with how to move the cart.

Lessons learned:

1 – Don’t shop at Super Wal-mart on Sundays

2 – Park within the first mile of the entrance

3 – The long arm of the law protects even the grocery carts

I Ordered That?!

Oh, what my mailman must think. 

Eh, who cares … it was Monday – check the mailbox day.  I should do it more often but I am addicted to the “it’s like Christmas” feeling I get every Monday on my drive home.  Honestly, I would do it less frequently but my mailman has started leaving hate post-its on my door. 

What could await me, oil change coupons?  20% off at Bed Bath & Beyond? Indubitably at least 3 political ads and maybe, if I was lucky, I would get Mike *********’s Comcast bill again ( I promise I only hold it up to the light to see through it never open it!) I turn the key and…

High five, my miniature (4 chips) sample can of Pringles FINALLY came.  Come to momma, sour cream and onion!  I’m not certain how I made it this long without my individual dryer sheet sample packet; seriously considering the switch from “April Fresh” to “Clean Linen” – but want to make an educated decision.  The icing on the cake was my free trial edition of Practical Horseman

I ordered that?!

Embracing my temporary curiosity, I took my treasures (and bills) inside and sat down for a brief delve into an equine state of mind.  Check out those pants…Rawr!

After 7 minutes passed I tossed the mag, ate the Pringles and did a load of laundry.

I can hardly keep my patient panties on for next Monday.  I am expecting delivery of hand sanitizer samples and am running low on pizza coupons.