Thursday, December 31, 2009
I haven't gotten my Christmas cards out yet so I guess they'll have to become Happy New Year cards which is fine because I didn't get my kids any Christmas clothes to dress up and have their picture taken in. I looked, but succombed to my inner Utahn and had to get three hot pink tutu's for my three daughters instead. What do they say? You can take the girl out of Utah . . .
Anyway, I feel so lucky to be on so many of your Christmas card lists. And you all have beautiful families, and apparently '09 was a year of happiness and smooth sailing and being generally better than me for most. Which is why Betsy's card is my favorite.
Tuesday, December 22, 2009
If you have any friends on the East Coast, then you know that we had a huge storm that people are freaking out over.
It is so great to see this much snow. But I didn't get a chance to take a picture of the snow when it was all beautiful and stuff. And I don't have a warm and eloquent description of my family playing in the snow, or watching the snow fall. I can tell you that church was canceled, that's all that really matters right?
Instead, I took a quick pic of this snow drift as I was driving today.
This dirty snow brought back a flood of forgotten memories from my childhood and I want to hurry and write down before I forget them.
When I was in elementary school. If it had snowed during the day, the janitor/snow removal guy would get out the snowblower after school and take care of any snow that was on the school sidewalks. One snowy day I was starting to walk home from school with my brother David. The janitor started the snowblower and even though we both had to go to the bathroom really bad, we both turned around at the sound of the blower's motor and watched him work for a minute, sort of hypnotized by the sound of the blower and the spray of snow in the air. I was probably nine and David must have been eight and we watched as some sixth graders we knew started to play in the snow fountain that shot out of the snowblower. We continued to watch as the older kids happily played near the snowblower and giggled when snow hit their skin. Then something happened that I'll never forget. One sixth grader, Jessica Peck got too close to the snowblower. She slipped and fell and one of her legs slid under the snowblower. The sound of the motor came to a sickening halt as the girls leg got caught in the snowblower blade. Jessica let out one of the most haunting screams that to this day I have ever heard. David and I looked each other, too stunned and frightened to speak. And then we turned and started to run home as if we had done something to cause the accident. By the time we had run the mile or so home, we didn't need to go to the bathroom anymore. I don't remember ever telling my mom what had happened, or even talking to David about what we'd seen. I had totally forgotten about it until now, but it really was one of the most gruesome things I've ever witnessed.
On a lighter note: did anyone else ride in a suburban growing up? If so, then your dad probably did the same thing as mine did and would ram into giant snow drifts and shout, "Who ya gonna call?" and the kids would yell in response, "Drift-busters!" We'd spend about a minute trying to get ourselves unstuck ourselves from the drift. And then we'd look for another one.
I guess that's all I've got.
Monday, December 14, 2009
I have a sister-in-law and she is basically the reason that the word "Stepford" became an adjective. Don't you love/hate those people. She's perfect. Which is why it made me really happy when the teen sitting behind her family in church decided to post this on you tube.
I should take a little credit here because I think it was my daughter that first introduced my nephew to boogers. Didn't know that would be the gift that keeps on giving.
Thursday, December 10, 2009
My much much older sister-in-law sent this to me this morning. Turns out I know like half the people in this short.
It's pretty funny but you might not get some of the jokes if you don't live in "the mission field."
You know what's really funny? The on purpose bad over-acting in the spoof looks just like the horrid 'I take myself very seriously' acting in the real movie.
"You've been to Duck Beach 10 times? How old are you?" I love it.
Tuesday, December 8, 2009
I cleaned out a cabinet the other day and I made an obvious note to self.
DON'T BUY ANY NEOSPORIN OR HYDROCORTISONE CREAM AGAIN. NEVER EVER EVER!
I don't really have any explanation for this other than that we are a very itchy people and Pete uses neosporin like that Big Fat Greek Wedding guy uses Windex. I have to admit, it's good stuff. But really? There must be 15 tubes of stuff, and this only from one cabinet, and it's not even the one where we keep the medicine.
I have these just on the bathroom counter until I can figure out what to do with all of them. Stocking stuffers I guess.
So can you tell me why when Sloane wandered into the bathroom, she decided to play with a 20 dollar jar of lotion instead of one of these worthless tubes of stuff?
After a 40 minute bath, she is still crying white tears.
Friday, November 20, 2009
Have you ever wondered what a hermit crab looks like when it's all the way out of its shell? We found out earlier this week. I looked in the cage that morning and saw that our pet 'Samantha' had escaped, for the fourth time since we've owned her.
That evening during dinner. I started having contractions. Bad ones.
While we were cleaning up after dinner Peter found the hermit crab.
When he turned on the garbage disposal.
Warning: graphic picture.
I grabbed my iphone in between contractions and took a picture and I'm glad I did because I was in way too much pain to feel anything else.
I guess I forgot to mention to Peter that I was feeling uncomfortable because he thought it would be a good idea to have a little family memorial service around the garbage can. He asked Eliza to say a few words. He gave a little talk about life after death for animals. It was all very sweet. He was half way through his Amazing Grace solo when I spoiled the mood by yelling, "I'm gonna kill you you jerk!" I guess that meant it was time to go to the hospital.
Friday, November 13, 2009
I've been asking myself that question a lot lately. I asked myself if 'that really just happened' the other day at the O.B. I was lying on the cold table and the doctor came really close and said that he wanted to tell me two stories. He spent about 20 minutes telling me one story about asking Dean Smith's then fiance on a date and another story about the movie Space Jam. Then he checked to see if I was dilated.
And this morning. Did I really just get in a fight with the elementary school art teacher? About art? He doesn't think some of my kids are trying hard enough. He thinks that they are doing bad art work. He approached me as I was dropping my kids off at school and wanted me to come into his classroom and see what he meant. Lucky for him I couldn't get out of the car because I wasn't dressed, and I think that I am in labor right now, and his nose was really runny and I have a bit of an aversion to bodily fluids and the smell of scalp in my delicate state so I had to get home quick. But I am going to have to revisit this issue again in a few weeks.
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
I arrived with dinner at the home of a family in need 20 minutes after I said I would . When I rang the doorbell, no one answered. I looked through the window and saw a spotless empty house. Right away with my flawed and judgemental thinking, I began to see this scenario in my head of what had happened. The careless husband finds himself home with 4 kids and his wife away. When dinner doesn't arrive right when it's supposed to, he takes the kids our for burgers. Meanwhile, I am two weeks from my due date. My husband is out of town, and I have 5 hungry kids in the car.
Not sure what to do, I take my food back to the car, nearly tripping over a foiled plate of brownies that someone has already left on the steps. I got back in the car and stopped at this family's neighbor's house that I knew to see if they had a cell number or something. I knocked on the door and felt even more mad about having to bug another family. This mom of seven looked frazzled but happily gave me a spare key to their house and told me just to put the food inside. "Oh, and I left some treats on their doorstep, would you put those in the house too?"
So that's where the brownies for this 'needy family' came from. Sheesh. I go back to the house, let my self in and put the food on the counter. At this point I'm starving and already grumpy so I steal a brownie from the plate of treats that the neighbor left. None will be the wiser-- that's what I always say. Besides, I so deserve this. I eat the brownie as fast as I can and head to the car.
As I stop back by the neighbor's house to return the spare key, she is waiting outside for me so I gulp the last mouthful of brownie down and give her a big smile. She smiles back and hands me two huge plates of goodies to bring home and enjoy. I give her the spare key and we chit chat for a few minutes before I head home.
I'm only home about 5 minutes before I realize what a jerk my brain is. There is a message on my answering machine from the husband. He apologetically explains that he is stuck in traffic, the baby is sick, and he is frantically trying to track down my cell but can't find it and feels terrible. Seriously, how lame am I? I head to the bathroom and as I look in the mirror, I see karma all over my face and teeth. In the form of brownie crumbs.
There are only two people who know how lame I am; myself, and the neighbor lady who I'm pretty sure knows that I stole one of the brownies. Believe me it was pretty obvious. Oh, and Peter knows how lame I am too but he's stuckity stuck stuck.
Thursday, October 22, 2009
Sorry for the crappy pictures, can you tell what's going on?
Neither can I.
But there is a guy at my gym right now. Dressed like a waiter, passing out free samples of finger food on a tray. I said gym not cocktail party. There were three other guys just like him walking around offering food to people on fancy trays. My Costco sample instincts kicked in and I downed two mini protein shakes, some cliff bars and a quinoa salad before I realized that I was eating food with my hands in the middle of a gym.
And we are all wondering why H1N1 is spreading so fast.
Why would I go to a gym when I can lick pennies in the privacy of my own home?
Thursday, October 15, 2009
I have a super cool brother who lives in Australia, and he has a friend named Gilly.
Here's what we think of when we hear the name Gilly here in America.
Let me know if you can't view this down undah.
I just realized that if you are an old lady like me and you have a teenage brother and you call him super cool, it doesn't actually send the message that he is super cool. You're just gonna have to trust me on this one.
Friday, October 2, 2009
I was driving home yesterday and this guy honked, cut me off and flipped me off. And you know what? It was impossible to get mad. I mean, someone who drives a lime green truck with the words "doody calls" written all over it, might have had a bad day. He's lucky in a way, everyone that crosses his path knows pretty much that the odds are against him.
Monday, September 28, 2009
Last weekend, I needed a night out and and had friends to join me. I really really wanted to see Fame. I had a TV crush on Karrington from SYTYCD and a hankerin' for a really good chopped salad. It seemed like nothing could go wrong.
Whoever had made my salad had taken some kind of culinary liberty and added basil.
Did you ever notice that Karrington has like huge bugs bunny teeth and can't act? And as for the movie itself. Well, I knew it wasn't gonna blow my mind, but I was hoping for a trip down memory lane.
See when I was in high school I spent my sophomore year at Chapel Hill High School (North Carolina) where I was in the best choir that ever existed. Picture the show Glee, set in the South. So within the group we had the cheerleaders and the football players, but we also had southern debutantes, and this huge gospel choir contingency. There were about 150 of us and we totally sang and danced to the song Fame. I mean like a choreographed dancing performance of Fame. We were good. Really good. And the black kids I met and made friends with in that choir more than made up for the fact that there was a different set of black kids who wouldn't let me sit down on the bus. An entire year of standing up in the center of the bus, the whole ride home while they laughed and flicked pennies at me. Apparently wearing only Duke paraphernalia and Gap clothes, and not being able to tolerate humidity made me a bit of a target. Who knew? I would have killed in Orem that's for sure.
Long story short, this movie is going down as a major disappointment of '09 for me. I was hoping to reminisce by watching really talented teens sing Fame, instead I watched mediocre talent with no charisma and there was just a crappy pop version of the song that played as the end credits rolled.
Monday, September 21, 2009
Check out my latest Wegmans find.
I wanted to buy this pineapple mostly just 'cause I wanted it on my blog. I also thought it would be funny to also buy a big one and then tell my kids I was magic and could shrink food. I still may do that.
But then I saw where it came from.
And I was too afraid to buy it because I thought it might make me vomit black stuff and turn one of my hands into a giant alien claw. Have you even seen what the government will force you to do in Joh-berg if they find out that you have an alien claw?
This must be the first time in history that Rotten Tomatoes has been so off on its movie ratings. I don't mind a sad movie. A film with lotsa hand held camera work doesn't bother me. I'll sit through movies with bad plots and poor direction. And I really do pride myself on having good taste in movies. I think I've seen all most every genre of film that matters. I can tell you about Fellini, Kurosawa, and Satyajit Ray.
But I simply do not have time in my busy and important life to watch unsympathetic characters, gross aliens, and African thugs duke it out in South Africa. District 9 represents two hours of my life that was wasted. Trust me, it stinks.
Speaking of movies though. One of my absolute favorite favorite things to do is to go to a party where there is a big group of 25-35 year old guys. I casually bring up the topic of good and bad movies. And after people have been talking about it for a few minutes I like to say in a really loud voice, "I THINK THAT BRAVEHEART IS THE WORST MOVIE EVER MADE!" And then I just sit back and watch the fireworks. Seriously, it is hilarious. Ahhhhh, All the pleasure of insulting someone's mother and killing their kitten, but none of the guilt.
Sunday, September 20, 2009
The picture that made my day
She may be going bald! This is the best news I've heard all week.
I think it's because my witch neighbor from New Jersey put a curse on her. She looses one hair for every 500 dumb things the says. I say she'll be wearing a wig, oh, by the end of the year.
Friday, September 18, 2009
I've been thinking about reality TV a lot lately. I mean a lot. I really didn't have any other options during the summer. And since my goal to get through Heart of Darkness didn't work out too well (all 80 pages, I know) I didn't really have anywhere else to turn.
So watching all these "real" people burn their 15 minutes, makes me wonder what separates me from them. I used to think that if you were average looking you wouldn't have a chance, but after seeing Jillian, I'm thinking that may not be the case. I also used to think that if you were really short or "just a mom," your chances weren't good either, but the TLC reality world has proven otherwise. Oh, and I thought that people with reality shows had lucid and coherent things to say-- oh wait I guess I never really thought that. Not since the Real World ONE. So I've made two separate lists of why I would and wouldn't make for a good reality personality.
Strikes Against Me
I don't really have a gay best friend that I can vent to.
I don't dye my hair. (That's not really a strike against me, I just wanted to mention it.)
I can't talk and drive, at least I shouldn't.
When I cry, it's always an ugly cry. Always.
In My Corner
I love talking about myself.
When I am talking about myself, I like to make really bad analogies to help illustrate my point.
I know how to surround myself with people who are dumber than I am, so that I look smart. (not any of you of course)
I am fully aware of the fact that I could make like 20k per episode. Dignity on the other hand, pays ZERO.
I think I'm gonna go for it. One thing I've learned from John and Kate, is that sometimes you gotta look out for number one. Those two know what I'm talking about. Fives all around.
Wednesday, September 16, 2009
Jonah's first kindergarten "art project."
When I asked him what it was, he told me, "It's the mountains of Teasdale."
From across the room Shea hollered, "If you were six we could write this off as abstract expressionism, but this is just crap!"
Kids say the cutest things.
She's right though, it looks nothing like mountains.
Peter and I are in a Facebook war. I have 213 friends and he has 209 friends. He got mad at me because I looked through his friends to add some of them as my own. Then I told him he was welcome to look through my friends and do the same. But ya know what? I can add a lot of his friends and it's ok, but he can't really add my 14 year old Mia Maids because that's creepy.
Then the other day he announced that there was no other way I was ever going to catch him, he was up to like 250. That may be true but I don't care anymore. I've decided that I am going to go for quality, not quantity. Here are a few of my FB "friends" that are on probation.
- A good friend from school who sent me a long email via FB asking for money for a cycling fundraiser. He is raising money for 5th graders who go to a private math and technology school. Aside from donating bags of candy to teachers (a previous post) I can't think of a worthier cause. The "charity" was mentioned in the last two sentences. The first 40 sentences were detailed descriptions of the greatest conquest his rock hard body has yet to face.
- A former boss and fellow fitness instructor who sent out a message informing her friends that her email address was no longer "ironmaiden@xxxx but instead ironmaidenphd@xxxx.
I want to use FB to find and catch up with friends and see what they are up to. I don't like it when Facebook is manipulative or makes me feel bad about myself-- that's what the blogs on my google reader are for. Maybe I'm just being grouchy. After all, I just took the Entourage FB quiz and it turns out I am 100% Ari Gold.
Monday, September 14, 2009
This is the post where things come full circle. About a year ago, I got in big trouble for publicly making fun of another girls blog because of something dumb she said about pregnancy cravings. I thought man, peoples' lives are really that pathetic when they have to blog about the crappy things they want eat. I really hate pregnancy posts. I have yet to find a post about a pregnancy that doesn't make the blogger seem: ungrateful, gushy or naive. That said, I found out the hard way that there are a lot of people who love the blogs of pregnant women, and woe betide the person who wants to make fun of one of them.
I would now like to close that chapter of my life by officially calling the kettle black and introduce to you the best tasting sandwich on the planet.The Banh Mi
If this article doesn't make your mouth water, nothing will. Basically the sandwich consists of a baguette with pork liver pate, pickled vegetables, jalapenos, cilantro, and head cheese. For you culinary dummies, head cheese is not cheese but pieces of meat from the head of a pig or calf. It is sliced thin and so fatty that you can see through it. Now, I know it sounds gross but it is delicious.
I've been making Pete take frequent trips to the not so close Little Saigon to feed my habit. He knows better than to argue. Because I can always bring up the first and only time he denied a pregnancy craving. Let's just say the story ended with me walking through the center of South Towne mall scream-crying, "YOU NEVER GET ME ANYTHING I WANT."
But back to my point.
I love these so much that the other day I went to buy one for myself. Peter was as work so he couldn't get me one. This may have stopped a rational person because I don't speak Vietnamese and I don't know where Little Saigon is. But not to me. I found one in Fairfax and went in. I ordered one with the best Viet tones I could and watched while the Vietnamese lady made it. She sliced the baguette, spread the pate, and started assembling the sandwich. She'd put half the stuff in when she stopped, furrowed her brow and smelled the sandwich. Then she yelled something to her Viet lady friend who was working in the back. The lady in the back came out, smelled my sandwich and shook her head at the first lady. So the first lady threw out the stuff she'd been putting on my sandwich and put on some different stuff. On the same piece of bread. Again, to a rational person, a restaurant is not usually safe when its workers judge the quality of the food by eyeballing and smelling it. But by this point I was so hungry I was ready to rip open a package of what looked like chocolate but I knew was really bean curd (those sneaky Asians will get you every time with their bean curd treats.) So I paid for my sandwich and tore it open in the car.
Friday, September 11, 2009
I have a secret that I am not sure if I want to share, but I am sick of looking at the Today Show entry so I'll just post it. I pulled into the gym parking lot today and all of the handicapped spots except one have been changed. The blue picture of a wheelchair on the pavement has been blacked out by tar. The blue disability signs with the wheelchair picture that say DMV permit required $200 fine are gone.
I looked over my right shoulder. I looked over my left shoulder. This is as close as I can get to the door I need to go through. If anyone needs a special accommodation, it's me. Do you have any idea how it feels to go through life with people giving you this look? A look that says, "I'm not gonna help you, you did this to yourself." Needless to say, I took the spot.
Some things just don't make sense but you do them anyway. I took that spot this morning. And I'm sitting home now watching Leonardo Dicaprio wear tevas in The Beach.
Tuesday, September 1, 2009
Watch the reaction of our models of empathy (Roker, Matt Lauer, Ann Curry, and Couric replacement girl) as they report the horrific story of a man being crushed by two semi trucks in a terrible accident.
The Soup caught this gem. I love The Soup but I have to warn you; don't watch it if you are carrying a baby who hates it when you laugh. He will sucker punch your bladder 'til your socks are wet.
Monday, August 31, 2009
I'm afraid that the blog entries of my vacation (notice I make a point to never never use the word vacay) will prove to be a huge disappointment. I usually spend at least an entire day in SLC running errands. The Costcos are better and the dentists are American. With a little extra free time I decided to sneak in to Tai Pan and see what all the fuss was about. I knew it was going to be good when I parked next to this mom. A potential bestie.
So skeptically, I went in. And you know what? I hate to admit it, but that place is awesome. I can totally see why you guys are living way outside your means. Great store. Never been there? Picture a Daybreak model home on an acid trip, and I mean that in a good way, and that's Tai Pan.
In about 20 minutes, I had blown my allowance on a bird cage and two paper pumpkins. There is something magical about the store. I don't know if it was the smell, or the strategically placed silk flowers, but I had almost convinced myself to buy a distressed wooden sign with the phrase painted on it: "Find Joy In Your Journey" when Camilla slapped me across the face and told me to pull myself together.
Sunday, August 30, 2009
Friday, August 21, 2009
I saw the future yesterday, and it totally sucks. Don't ever go in here.
I can't believe that I have been doing Disney for 25 years and I made a rookie mistake like this.
I also can't believe that this is the only photo my iPhone took at Disneyland. I really really wish I had taken a picture of the Gothic young adults in front of me in the Small World line. Black eyeliner, black lipstick, wearing all black layers, discussing Nihilism, looking all depressed. Hey goths-- you can't fool me, no one forced you to pay $100 to spend a day with Mickey!
p.s. If you ever make the mistake of seeing Honey I Shrunk the Audience, don't take Jonah. And if you do, don't sit in front of the 400 pound man. Jonah thought it was part of the show and embarrassed us all with his theatrics.
Monday, August 17, 2009
An ill fated road trip left my 4 month old car with 5 wads of chewed up gum ground into the carpet. Surprisingly enough, I don't think that the chewing or the spitting of the gum was the fault of my children. But as far as the grounding of the gum into the carpet, well, I think we all share a little of the blame for that. I tried for all of 5 minutes to scrape the gum out of the car before I came to a crossroads. I could either do it myself and pay for it mentally and physically, or I could just hire someone to do it and just pay for it.
I may regret blogging about this place because the full service car wash is the best kept secret in Vienna. They will clean and detail your car better than any dealership or Foothill SLC car wash can ever dream to do. Here is the catch though, they really don't want to do it. I mean they really really hate to detail cars.
Here is my exact conversation with them, I pulled my car up to the queue.
Me: Hey can I get my car detailed and carpets shampooed today?
Car Wash Guy: (With a Latino accent) Uh, I don know. It might rain today.
Me: I don't care, I mostly just want the interior done.
Car Wash Guy: Uh, I don know, eez very expensive.
Me: That's ok, I've had you do it before, it's worth the price.
Car Wash Guy: Uh I don know, it take a lon tieem, you migh hav to leeve yir car for 4 hour.
Me: That's ok, I live close to here.
Car Wash Guy: Uh, I don know, my frien eez sick today
He motions to a Mexican leaning against the wall wearing a baseball cap and a hoodie and holding a cup of coffee. I wave to the guy and he gives me a wide grin and raises his cup in the air in reply.
Me: Please, my car is really dirty.
I give him a flirty smile which is totally negated by the fact that I am 100% average looking and drive a minivan. But it seems to do the trick and he sympathetically agrees to do it.
Now with most businesses, if an employee doesn't want to do something but is forced to do it anyway, they will do a really crappy job so that they will never have to do it again. Not at the Full Service Car Wash. When my car was done, it was in better condition than when I bought it. And I bought the car with 12 miles on it. And, they charged me 10 dollars less than they charged me last time I had it detailed, which was 25 dollars less than the time before that!
Now, I realize it's kinda demeaning to take a picture of a guy who is washing your wheels. But I have been practicing taking pictures with my phone on the sly. I make it look like I am texting but I am really snapping away. I need all the practice I can get because I am headed to the motherland next week and I want to get me at least 10 good pics of 40 year old moms with blond hair, skinny jeans, stilettos and some kind of tight pink shirt with a skeleton or something cool on it. I'll definitely be spending more time than I want to at the Gateway and the South Valley Lifetime.
Sunday, August 9, 2009
Saturday, August 8, 2009
The next day, I went to my OB. She looked at my chart and started attacking me with questions.
"Why have you gained so much weight? Why was your last baby so big? Did you eat more sugar then? Are you eating more sugar now?"
She was not impressed by the fact that I am still teaching at the gym, not even when I flexed and kissed my bicep for her. Most people like that, but I guess if OBs were interested in awesome biceps, they would be like arm doctors or something. Instead she told me that I was probably diabetic and going to have to cut out all sugar or else I was doomed to give birth to a 9 pounder. The whole time she lectured slash yelled at me, I just stared at the ground like a 5 year old who has just shattered a flat screen (and believe me, I know what that looks like.)
So I walked to my car and drove home, feeling like a fatty. When I got home, my legs had sweated themselves stuck to the leather seats because I was wearing a skirt and I had to peel them off the seat and it hurt and I thought to myself, "This must be how fat people feel when they get out of cars every day." And I burst into tears. I ran inside and canceled my DVR set to record DYAO and the Fatchelor (aka More to Love) because the fact that those shows are on TV mean that it is now OK to make fun of fat people (or as they call themselves "real people")
After I took care of my TV business, I went to check on my kids (yes I have my priorities in order) and I heard them yelling, "I hate you!" and "You are stupid." When I went in to stop that kind of talk, they saw the look on my face and were quick to inform me that it was opposite day. "
"OOOHHH opposite day. Carry on children." to which Jonah replied, "Mom you are sooo not fat."
And there you have it. Day number two.
It's been a rough week for a lot of different reasons. Every time something bad happened to me, I thought to myself, "Oh man, I should totally complain about this on my blog." And then something else bad would happen and I'd think the same thing. Now it is Saturday night and I am going to have to break my week up into a series of posts--it was just that bad.
It all started when Megan Fox started talking again. I just knew that things weren't going to go my way.
I guess Megan has a lot of tattoos? When asked if she regretted getting the word "BRIAN" tattooed on her lower lower abdomen. She replied.....
"Oh that one I don't regret. I mean think about it, I could have a kid someday and name him Brian or something, so I'm just saying, I have options."
Consider the fact that the "Brian" tattoo was done in honor of her then boyfriend Brian Freaking Austin Green whom she had dated for like 4 months and the quote seems even better. Come on! I knew Pete for 4 months before we got engaged and let me be the first to tell you that that there is no way that 4 months is long enough to rush into tattoos or engagements. At month 5 I discovered that Pete was a huge Pearl Jam fan and ate tuna with BBQ sauce. But I was already in too deep so I figured I'd just stick it out.
Friday, July 31, 2009
When I was little, I had this friend named Wizzy. No, I didn't have a speech impediment, it really was/is Wizzy-- check my FB friends and see for yourself. Anyway, she always used to brag about going to VBS in the summer. She told me that VBS stood for Vacation Bible School which seemed strange and foreign to me because I know ALL about the Bible but had never heard those three words together. Ever. But she was like the only Baptist on the planet soo I just sort of wrote it off. Did I mention that I grew up on a planet named Bountiful UT?
Fast forward 20+ years to the end of the swim team season and this teenage swim coach gives me a flyer for her Backyard Bible Club/VBS and invites my kids to come.
Notable details of the club: *Every day for a week.
*I drop my kids off for hours.
Um, yes please. Truthfully, its the end of July. This could have been a Backyard Pagan Club and I still may have signed up.
All week my kids have been waking up so excited to go to Bible Club and they come home with a new scripture that they've memorized--oh sorry Bible verse. Shea is telling me the story of Nemiah and Jonah is singing "Jesus is a super hero."
Oh, and did I mention that these teens running the camp are trying to raise money for a foster home in China that houses orphans born with special needs. So my kids are also suddenly trying to do odd jobs around the house so that they can earn money to give to children who are much less fortunate. What nerds.
Now I consider myself a religious person with a religious family. But I have been taking my kids to church for three hours every Sunday since they were born and they have never once memorized a scripture at church. What am I doing wrong?
Come on kids! How can you think that singing "Jesus is a Super Hero" is fun and you don't like singing, "Pioneer Children Sang as They Walked and Walked and Walked and Walked?"
Is it the lack of percussion in the music? Must be. It's a good thing these people don't feel strangely drawn to illegal fireworks Napoleon Dynamite humor or we might be in real trouble.
P.S Wizzy, remember in 6th grade when that new boy teacher came to the school and insisted that you be called by your real name Elizabeth and we were all like, "What for? Her name is Wizzy?" and the teacher was all, "Because "wizzy" is what a dog does to a bush. " Well, if you had forgotten, sorry to remind you. Man, that guy was a jerk. Lucky for him he was a teacher in the 80's before the time of tolerance and law suits.
Wednesday, July 29, 2009
Pete just sent me this, got it off the NRO site.
This woman is right, things are different now than they were twenty years ago.
Let me just prove our point(as if I needed to.) Think about when you used to go to Chuck E. Cheese 20 years ago. Don't you remember it being darkly lit with puppets--just barely more fun than creepy? Me too! Now its bright lights and no more puppets. Weird.
I just thought of another one. Moon Boots. What's not to love? They are warm and waterproof. And where are they now? Who took the moon boots? Don't try to tell me they just stopped making them, that is as weird as the rainbow in water thing.
And is it just me or did there used to be a lot more guys named Vince? When is the last time you met a Vince? Where did they all go? Some crazy government science experiment I bet. Things sure are different now.
Tuesday, July 28, 2009
There are two types of people in the world.
I love saying that, I can make up all sorts of categories.
There are people who like to eat that circus peanut candy. And then there are normal people.
There are people who love to start blog posts with the words, "So" or "OK" when they are about to tell a story. And there are people who know how to read and write.
Here's what I want to talk about though. There are people who are memorable (and I'm not talking about like really really memorable, I am just saying that if you meet them once, you will remember the next time you see them) and there are people who aren't.
I wish I was one of those lucky memorable people. Thanks to this couple, I am reminded about once a week that I am totally and utterly forgettable.
And as a forgettable person, let me tell you that there is nothing more annoying than meeting someone for the second or third or fourth time. Especially when it is someone who is bubbly and energetic and a self proclaimed "people person." Having them look at you with wide blank eyes and a formal closed lipped smile (the way you look at a child) while you explain that you have met before- I hate that.
They used to live in my neighborhood. I met her at the tot lot (that's a playground for all you Westerners) like five times.
Then they put their house on the market. I went through their open house (met them again of course) Walking through their house, I thought to myself that maybe they might forget me, but I would never forget who they were, because they chose to frame a nude photo of the husband and put it up in the bathroom.
I really see them everywhere. The store, carnivals, the mall, oh and they joined my gym.
I am not a friendly person but I am a glutton for punishment so I say hi every time. We go through this cycle, for a while they just give me this weird look. Then they finally stop after I say hi and say, "Do I know you?" I explain that we used to live in the same neighborhood and bla bla bla. Then I graduate to seeing them and having them say, "Hey, I know you from somewhere-- wait don't tell me." And that's as far as we get, the next time I see them and say hi, they go back to the weird look. Today, at Costco is one of those times.
It's not like we just say hi every third time either, I know like everything about them. They met at a bar, they have two kids, they are both Realtors (hence the midday midweek post workout price club trip.) But every meeting is the same.
Now that I write this, I think that it might be them not me that is forgettable, it is them that is off. At least that is what I am going to tell myself because you know who I just thought of that always remembers me? My parents. And Orrin Hatch. Every time. And he is old. And he has met like a ton of people. But every time he sees me, he puts his arm around me and kisses me on the cheek and says, "Hiya sweetie." So there.
Thursday, July 23, 2009
My people love their jello salads, their big families, and their illegal fireworks.
What's the deal with men and fireworks? More importantly, what's the deal with my men and fire? They love the stuff. And if you know anyone who likes illegal fireworks, you know that the closer they come to really hurting someone or burning down a house, the more likely they will be to repeat the stunt again. Last year on the 5th of July, someone had the bright idea of sticking a monster bottle rocket into one end of a pool noodle, while they held up the other end in the air. Sparks, burnt fingers, a neighbors flaming tree all in a matter of seconds, of course followed by the 20 seconds of complete silence and someone uttering, "that was awesome."
Tonight I am enjoying a quiet empty house. While I was at a meeting, Pete decided to do his part in getting ready for Pioneer Day and go get the illegal fireworks. So he and a buddy put 6 kids in the car and drove 100 miles to Pennsylvania during a severe thunderstorm warning where there was rumored to be a firework stand that had the good stuff. Three hours later, they arrived and there was indeed-y a stand, but it was closed.
I hope they come home.
I am so glad that we are bringing another boy into our family so that we can increase the amount of testosterone driven judgement calls. Maybe Pete and Jonah will stop working overtime.
Monday, July 20, 2009
No offense to Nia and Kelcy (two dear friends who are summer school teachers)
But this really made my day. Lize brought this EXACT note home from school today:
This summer all students attending ESY summer school are required to complete a service learning project. This means that we do something special for the community. Our immediate community involves all our students, teachers and staff.
We have decided to do something special for our teachers and administrators. We are asking your child to bring in a bag of treats such as tootsie rolls, kisses, lollipops, or whatever you might choose. Our plan is to have each student put together and deliver goodie bags for the teachers. The name of the service project is "You Deserve a Treat. " We are hoping to start the project next week. We would like to have you send the treats in with your child by Monday so that we can deliver the bags on Wednesday.
Thank you for supporting our Community Service Project. Please call us if you have any questions. We are hoping the teachers will enjoy the surprise.
Ms. P and Ms. K
(signed by the teachers)
I know that there is no need to explain why I thought this was funny, but I'd like to do it anyway.
- Summer school students are required to do a service project.
- Teachers get to choose the project.
- Teachers decide that it would be good service for the kids to bring them in some candy.
- Since the kids have to bring in candy, the teachers might as well be specific and list their favorite treats.
I know that working during the summer sucks. But THIS IS NOT COMMUNITY SERVICE
I don't know what is going on here, but my guess is that these teachers are assuming that since these kids are dumb enough to need summer school, their parents won't be smart enough to know a ponzi scheme when they see one (I'm not sure if I'm using that phrase correctly, I had to Wiki it, but it sounds cool and Pete's been saying it a lot lately so I'm gonna go for it.)
I am glad that they defined the words "community" and "service" for us. Heaven forbid we help children who live within 20 miles mine. You know the ones who live in a local government run by thugs and are grateful to go to school in condemned buildings? 'Cause I am way too busy to put up with that crap.
You know what I'm gonna do? I am going to fill a bag with bit-o-honey. The worst candy ever. That'll show 'em.
Wednesday, July 15, 2009
To the average Virginian, these neighboring houses just look like your everyday architectural monstrosity.
But if you have an eye for polygs, like I do, you know what's really going on here. Am I right or am I right?
If I go too long without seeing an actual person, I start to go all judgemental on houses. This might be a problem.
Saturday, July 11, 2009
I've been feeling a little down and anti-social lately. Not sure why, but, sometimes when I feel like this, I need a reminder that there are things all around me that I can smile at.
A beautiful sunset.
My laughing children.
My baby graduating from "special services."
Oh yeah, and "three wolf" shirts on Amazon
This listing will make your day. Click Here and please please please read the reviews.
Thanks for passing it along Stacey--
Wednesday, July 8, 2009
So at LTF, they always have samples of free stuff to give away. Lotion, tampons, deodorant, granola bars, shot blocks, protein shake packets, Purell, multivitamins, recovery drinks. It is pretty funny because you see people shamelessly grabbing handfulls of the free stuff. Does the 80 year old really need all those tampons? I know that Korean lady will never use all 5 tubes of Lubriderm-- I don't know if this is across the board, but the Koreans at my gym are really set in their skin care routine of exclusively Asian beauty products, and it seems to be working.
But this was a new sample that I had never seen before . . .
I went back the next day, and the next day and the next day, and the next day (that was a non-subtle attempt to impress you) and the stack of books has remained un-touched.
I grabbed one, I think I'll give it to my MIL. Her reading habits remind me of those gross Lake Powell carp that will eat anything that plops in the water. (And I mean that as a compliment. If I read as much as she does, I would really be smarter than most of you, instead of just pretending to be.)
Walked through the doors.
One worker took my older kids to a table and another put the baby into the highchair and played with her while I ordered.
While we ate, three employees asked us if we needed extra sauce or refills. I'll bet they'd give me a chick-fil-a sauce iv if I asked for it.
This place is the best! This is how I deserve to be treated all of the time.
Come to the new Fairfax Chick-Fil-A
It is located in between the homeless shelter and the Peter Pan Chinese Buffet.
Friday, June 26, 2009
I've been thinking about the idea of celebrity for a while now. I guess it's been ever since Peter asked me if I thought Oprah was a good person. Saint Oprah you mean? Actually, yes I think that she really is a good person. The problem is that she is fully 100% aware of her goodness. There is nothing worse than a celebrity who know exactly how good and smart they are. There's got to be some Hindu principle that describes what I am talking about. That as soon as you come to a full realization of just how incredible you are, you have lost something. You have taken a step backwards that will be impossible to recover from.
This morning after two major celebrity deaths yesterday, and after reading this great NRO article I am even more nauseated over the idea of fame.
I was listening to an interview that Barbara Walters did with Farrah Faucett in 1980. They were talking about why she left Charlie's Angles after one season and she said that it was because she needs constant intellectual stimulation or else she is bored. This is what I'm talking about. I would be shocked if anyone could find a similar quote from Chistopher Langan or Albert Einstein. But this kinda crap comes out of Hollywood all the time and people just agree and nod. Natalie Portman is fluent in three languages and has a degree from Harvard and you never hear her blabbing about it.
But back to Michael. I liked him. I liked him a lot. I liked him all through the 90's when is wasn't cool to like him. I feel bad for him because he had crappy parents (a crappy childhood that he would never shut up about) and he was surrounded by people who constantly told him what a genius he was. But as a parents and a highly judgemental human, I don't think he was innocent of all those accusations. Celebrity yes, Innocent no.
Still, I'm going to have a blast putting together my MJ tribute playlist for Spinning tomorrow.
Wednesday, June 24, 2009
Wednesday, June 10, 2009
Monday, June 1, 2009
I like Camilla because whenever she decides to dress up ugly because that would be funny, she seriously tries to look as ugly as possible, unlike most girls who say they think it would be funny to dress ugly and then they just make themselves look way hot but do then put on something something silly as if to send the message, "I really did try to look ugly but I am just too beautiful."
Remember that Halloween scene in Mean Girls when Lilo shows up as Elvira and all her friends were hot nurses? That is Camilla. She is the best.
I also like her talking mime routine.
And I like that she followed my example when she chose a husband that was 100% teaseable (see post below)
And I want to share with you a note she wrote me when she was 14.
You may have a better life than me. But you are not better than me.
Happy Brithday, I forgive you for the time you got the motor to the Tornado Tumbler stuck in my hair. If you forgive me for getting married on your birthday.
I only have one really bad picture of Camilla and I can't find it. Jordan will you email some real bad ones?
We both rule the world of being able to "dish it out but can't take it"
Seriously? Eminem thinks he can say or rap whatever he wants about whoever he wants. But has no sense of humor when it comes to anything directed at him.
Remember when that comic dog from Conan tried to have a chat with Eminem a few years back at the Grammys? The same thing happened. "M's" posse seriously messed that dog up, so whoever planned this stunt shouldn't have been too surprised at the reaction.
Which brings me to the topic of myself. I have a rare combination of character traits that might just make me one of the most unbearable humans ever.
I love to make fun of people.
I think that I am really really funny.
I almost always think that I am the most entertaining and clever person in the room.
I get very offended and sullen if anyone tries to make fun of me.
Good thing I was aware of this when I chose a husband ten years ago today. This makes him the best husband on the planet. He lets me mock and embarrass him all I want, knowing full well that if he ever tried to give me back what I fully deserve, I just couldn't take it. I was thinking that for an anniversary present, I was going to allow him to hijack my blog for a day and tell the world about that one Halloween when I discovered that Silver Diner buffalo wings don't agree with my GI tract (ruining my Halloween costume and a friends white bath mat in the process.) But I think I'll just keep that one to myself.
Friday, May 29, 2009
Hurry to Chuck E. Cheese and make friends with the first chain smoking coke bottle glasses Asian you see.
She came here to learn English and American culture.
She stayed because she is awesome at the balloon game.
She just gave my 5 year old 1600 tickets.
This is the best day ever!
Unless Jonah goes missing.
Uh, I gotta go.
Wednesday, May 20, 2009
I was sad to put Peter on a plane for the second week in a row. I always miss him when he's gone.
I was lucky though, this time he left me a little present.
In the shower.
Can't you tell what it is? A giant wad of chewed up gum inside the cap to his shaving cream.
While at a gas station, Peter sees a giant chunk of bubble gum called "Toxic Waste."
And with that sentence, it should be implied that Pete has horrid judgement when it comes to food choices and gas stations. Actually food choices in general. I learned that once while we were dating and he ordered shrimp pizza. And I am reminded of this quality again and again every time we go to the Training Table. He starts off the night by ordering the double bacon cheese dog. He finishes the night by spending 75 minutes in the bathroom. Oh wait, actually the night ends with Peter coming out of the bathroom and yelling angrily, "I thought I told you not to let me order that again?"
I was lucky enough to find his surprise before he left. I asked him about it on the way to the airport. He was shocked that I thought he did anything wrong.
"What was I supposed to do? That gum was so sick."
Oh, you mean the gum that came from the toxic waste wrapper? Huh- go figure.
I'm a lucky gal.
See you tomorrow babe.
Friday, May 15, 2009
The other day Susan sent me a link to my new favorite website. It's better than the cake wrecks blog if that is even possible (which by the way, has an entry dedicated to Chuck Norris cakes--so this might be the best day of my life.)
But here is a link to what Susan found-- an awesome awkward family photo website. It is a real treasure. Here is a sample.
This one is Susan's favorite.
You know, it's not the nudity I find offensive, but the hair, and the hand placement (man, if I had a dollar for every time I said that.)
I wanted to blog about it but not until I could find an equally awkward family pic of my own. I looked and looked, nothing. I couldn't believe it. So I looked through Pete's family pics and to my bigger surprise, zippo. Buh-lieve me, Peter and I have two very awkward families saturated with all kinds of crazy, and I couldn't find a single awkward picture. No weird pictures, only beautiful and loving. Which goes to show, that you can't judge a family by it's pictures- that is going to come as a huge disappointment to most SAHM bloggers.
Then yesterday, I was getting ready for Brownies and I needed construction paper, so I went to my file of old art stuff from my days as a French Teacher and I found a gem of my own. Now it's not a family photo but it sure is awkward, especially if you are a class of '96 Highland Ram.
When I was a senior, a group of guys who had already graduated called my friends to see if we wanted to hang out. We were excited because-- hello college guys! So we went to Chili's. It was nice. They paid, which was totally foreign for us to have teenage boys pay for a meal. Then we went back to one of their houses to hang out which was also really fun. Now I had been well trained by my friends. They taught me that even in the most innocent situations, you should look for any opportunity to snoop and spy. And you know what is weird, it has never gotten me into trouble. So I start going through some papers in a bedroom and look what I found.
There were actually like 60 pictures all different poses. You may not notice, but they coordinated their outfits and fashioned a backdrop out of a sheet.
I figured they wouldn't notice if I stole one picture,
but they never called us again soo . . .
But we didn't make out with them either sooo that's probably the real reason that we didn't get a second free meal.
Now, we know that main purpose of the Internet to post stolen pictures, but I took this pic way before the web was even invented so I guess it's kinda creepy that I would keep a picture like this for 11+ years. And even now as I type, I feel sorta bad posting this because one of these boys' little brother ended up marrying my sister and I see him on a regular basis. And another one of the guys took me to Homecoming when I was a new student and had only been going to the school for like a month-- how nice is that? And I wasn't even that hot. Yet.
Tuesday, May 12, 2009
I know it's only May, but I think that Megan Fox is going to win the award for quote of the year. You know that hot girl in Transformers with the digitally altered eyes and tan? Apparently she has been named sexiest woman by like every men's magazine. Here is her response.
"I don't want to have to be like a Scarlett Johansson-- who I have nothing against," she says, "but I don't want to have to go on talk shows and pull out every single SAT word I've ever learned to prove, like, 'Take me seriously, I am intelligent, I can speak.' I don't want to have to do that. I resent having to prove that I'm not a retard-- but I do. And part of it is my own fault."
Wow. I think this girl is going to be a problem. I mean, when was the last time you used the word Retard? Is that ok now? Man I sure hope so because it would really help me articulate the way I feel about a lotta stuff. Like Megan Fox, and the person who invented packaging for razors. Hey Megan, just because you are in two robot shows, doesn't make you a serious actress.
Speaking of which, did you know that this is still like the number five most viewed video on you tube? And rightfully so. Never get tired of watching it.
Keep talkin' ladies, together with Ludacris, we can undo all that retarded feminist stuff.
Saturday, May 9, 2009
Now as I am typing this obligatory Mother's day post, I am trying to decide if I should post something that makes me (I am a mother) look good; or something that makes my mom look good. Since my parenting stories usually end with me saying things like, "I guess you can pee off of the deck but you absolutely cannot poop on the deck." Or "I don't feel bad for you, that's what you get for licking a razor." I think that I'll talk about my mom.
Some of my favorite Shirley-isms.
My Dad's boss: Shirley, how are you going to put all these children through college? Are you an heiress?
Shirley: No, I'm a Virgo.
Shirley: My husband's job isn't anti family, it's just pro work.
Tribune Reporter: Mrs. Scruggs, we are interviewing well known Utahns to find out what they do on Valentine's day, what are your traditions?
Shirley: Oh don't interview us, we never whoop it up on Valentines day.
(of course that direct quote went right into the Trib.)
Has your mom ever called a General Authority "Elder Long Legs" to his face? Mine has.
Does your mom hold a long time grudge against your husband for being called a cheater at Phase 10? Mine does but why would you ever want to cheat at the most boring game on the planet?
Does your husband hold a long time grudge against your mom for eating too much Gouda cheese on her last visit? Of course mine does.
I guess those are the only non- embarrassing things I can think of. This'll have to be a work in progress because I know there are way more Shirley-isms that I am forgetting.
Hope you are having a good day. Hope you are eating Tim Tams, and sleeping in. Mom, my children miss you like crazy and they are waiting for you to come back so that you can do your "funny run." That isn't really your normal run is it?
Friday, May 8, 2009
Saturday, May 2, 2009
Thursday, April 30, 2009
In my young college years, my dad would travel to Japan about once a month on business. Every time he came home, he would bring with him one or two liter bottles of this brown Japanese drink called Mugi Cha. It smelled like a barn, in a good way.
About a month before I got married, he took me on one of his trips as sort of a sweet father daughter last hurrah. It was really great. During the day, I would go see all the shrines and eat lotsa sushi while he worked. And at night he would take me with him to his business dinners with those lovable Japanese business men, and incredible food. Oh, and he was working with Kent Derricott or "Kento Derikoto." Kento came with us almost everywhere which was awesome because riding on a train in Tokyo with Kent was like riding on the New York Subway with David Letterman. Famous. People would follow him and he would turn and say something in Japanese (which I assume was clever and funny) and they would all blush and giggle.
The trip seemed perfect until the end when my Dad decided it was the right time to give me the "wedding night talk." It is mortifying enough to have a talk like that with your dad. But try getting that talk in the middle of a crowded train. And in the back of a cab. And in the line at a Japanese McDonald's. My Dad assumed that no one around us could understand English so he talked extra loud to make sure that I could hear him above the noise of a busy public place.
So Peter sent me this commercial and told me that if I didn't put it on my blog, he would never check it again. (It was much funnier the second time.) He had no idea that it was a commercial for my Dad's Mugi Cha which makes it funnier to watch.