Andrea Mulder-Slater

by Andrea Mulder-Slater Lately, my 3 year old daughter's tiny dolls have been participating in an all nude revue of some sort --  the whereabouts of their clothes unknown. Until now. As I was sorting the darks from the lights in the laundry hamper, I came across these... Lord knows being a doll is a dirty job, what with being carted here and there by chubby strawberry jam covered hands. Not to mention the crap you pick up while gallivanting with adventurous dinosaurs and an  incredulous poop-covered mole . Clearly my daughter recognizes this, which is why she carefully undressed her playthings and placed their shirts, pants and tops where she thought they should go - one step closer to being Ivory Snow clean. Still, I hesitated to wash the minuscule outfits, concerned that due to their size, they would become lost forever in the vortex that is our washing machine... a place where socks rarely come out in pairs. So instead, I decided to tell a fib. Me: Here are y

by Andrea Mulder-Slater A quick peek at my blog statistics this morning revealed the real reason I've been receiving so many emails from Russia, addressed to сексуальная женщина * . Meanwhile, I thought about including a photo of a Russian sex doll race featuring air-filled women, (a couple of plastic men) and one anatomically incorrect crocodile. But instead, I thought this might be more appropriate - y'know, for viewing at work.  http://www.funnyordie.com/pictures/58a722fbfe/russian-dolls  You're welcome. And by the way, no one is stopping you from Googling Russian sex doll race. You know you want to. * Sexy lady. No, really.

by Andrea Mulder-Slater For those of you who don't know, I am an artist. No, really. I am. I make art. I even went to school to learn how to do it. Make art I mean. Paintings, sculptures, that sort of thing. Not that I have been doing it lately. Making art I mean. Mostly because my workspace for the past several months has consisted of a 4" square area on the corner of a dining room table - right beside my computer - in the most dimly lit room on the planet. How's that for an excuse? But that's not the point. The point is, I have a Facebook page and on that page I have made a pledge. As soon as I reach 100 fans, I will give away - at random - an original work of art. Might be big. Might be small. But either way, it will be one of a kind. So - if you've got some time (and a FB account) head on over to http://www.facebook.com/andreamulderslater and click on the little "Like" button. It will make both of us feel better. And really, who doesn't want to

by Andrea Mulder-Slater We are moving soon and so, the cleanup has begun. As I was sorting through some of my daughter's toys yesterday, I came across one I had forgotten about. It was covered in dust bunnies - after having lived under the bed for quite some time - but it still looked perky as ever... Geoff, Jan, the littlest one and I were at a train station somewhere in The Netherlands, waiting for the next ride to Assen, where we were heading to visit the house where my father spent his early childhood. My d aughter wasn't yet two years old and this was to be the first train ride of her life (well, the second - if you count the trip from the airport to our rental home - but that was after an eight hour red eye flight and at that point, she thought we were all sitting on a fast moving sofa). For our daylong excursion, we had snacks, stickers and paper, her “baby” and her “lowdee.”  Still, to help keep my little girl occupied, I thought I might grab a little

Once upon a time, a guy named Ben and his friend Paul had an idea. They thought it would be phenomenal if there was a place where people could create and share virtual catalogs or bulletin boards of things they like, with strangers. From that thought, came a little social networking website called Pinterest . It's like a birth story, only with a lot less goo. Trouble is - not everyone "gets it". At least not at first  - as evidenced by a Facebook conversation that I recently witnessed on my ticker. Some of the chit chat has been altered and the names have been changed to characters from The Mary Tyler Moore Show - for the sake of privacy. Other than that, this is all is mostly true. Sort of. Rhoda :   Um, wtf is Pinterest? Phyllis :  I'll send you an invite. You will love it. Mary :  It's highly addictive. omg.  Ha. Ha. Ha. No. Seriously. Phyllis : Yeah. I totally forgot to mention that. Okay, invite sent. Sue Ann : I can't stop doing it!