Thursday, April 30, 2009


....... when Sixteen Candles was your favorite movie?
Jake Ryan beats Troy Bolton, hands down.

Tuesday, April 28, 2009


I hate to bring it up again, but I just read an article that says the best way to prevent Swine Flu is isolation. Stay away from everyone. Sounds good to me. I could use a few days of quarantine. Except for the part where I am confined to my house for who knows how long with my family. That scenario could end up with me running away to join the circus. But I’ve been considering that for a while anyway.

Seriously though, I’m kind of starting to worry that I might actually have to gather my sweet little chicks and lock them in the house temporarily. We live in a border state (Arizona), so I don’t feel like I’m completely paranoid being nervous about it.

So, let’s just say you were going to stay home with your family for a week or two (or six, who’s counting?), what supplies would you need to remain sane?

Sunday, April 26, 2009

My weekend has been very informative

Here are some links to the things I have learned (click on the bold words to be enlightened)-

1. A super senior is not able to leap tall buildings in a single bound. It's possible he or she may not even be able to tie their own shoes.

2. Pat Buchanan is a gigantic ass. Okay, I knew that already, but why does he have to hang around reaffirming it all the time? Can't he just go away? Please?

3. As you can probably tell by the name, Ring of Death is very very bad. It can for sure ruin your weekend. Totally!

4. David Duke is not dead. Nope, he's still alive and still stupid.

5. You know what else is not dead? Star Trek. Not even close.

6. This place has a mold to make ice cubes shaped like false teeth. HA! HA! HA!!! I'm so getting some of those for my granny for Christmas.

7. I have really good taste. I know because everything I want is super expensive. I am almost never drawn to inexpensive things which is the sure sign of good taste, right? Right? Oh, come on now, you know I'm right.

8. Swine flu is not just for pigs anymore. Am I the only one feeling just a tch nervous about that?

9. These two stupid people who are famous for I don't know what, but I'm pretty sure it rhymes with "nothing" got married. Again. Who knew?

And finally, #10. I learned that I can waste 2 hours "unwinding" with my old pal the internet like nobody's business.

Wednesday, April 22, 2009

I’m not sure, but I think I’m feeling a little cheated.

Or I would be, if I were a big old nit wit. I hesitate to even broach this subject for fear of inciting controversy---—oh, who am I kidding? I love controversy.

As I’m sure you can tell, I try to be on the cutting edge of all the latest trends. Well, wouldn’t you know it, one slipped past me. It happens to the best of us. On the radio yesterday morning they were talking about the newest wave of celebratory insanity. Have you heard about “Push Presents”? Am I the only one who didn't know about this? Apparently it’s not really all that new, just new to me. A Push Present is a gift that is given to a woman, usually by her significant other, after she has pushed out a baby. PUSH…..present. Ugh!

I don’t even know where to begin---oh who am I trying to fool? Yes I do. Hello?!! The NAME!!! Push Present. EEW!!

I have given birth 5 times (without an epidural OR a push present, someone owes me big time) and believe me when I tell you that the pushing part, while very necessary (some might even call it vital), is not the part that I would want a prize for. How about a Puke Present? For all of those months of throwing up every time ate anything, stood up or smelt the interior of the car. How about a Pee Present? For the MILLION times I went to the bathroom so a tiny trickle of urine could escape. How about a Prozac Present? For all of the times my hormonal out of wackedness made me feel like I was going to lose my mind.

Or….how about this…..hold on to your hats……not giving people rewards or presents for just doing regular stuff. For crying out loud women have babies!! It’s kind of what they do. I mean it’s great to recognize that it’s important and hard even, but needing a gift for doing something your body was intended to do is just silly.

Next thing you know men will be expecting a present when they take out the garbage. And you know what they are going to want. We need to nip this rewarding thing in the bud, before it gets anymore out of hand.

Tuesday, April 21, 2009

They don't call them losers for nuthin'

Ron, Ron, Ron, you big flabby liar. Is anyone else taking this badly?  I cannot believe they did that to her.  I hate to say it, but this is kind of what they all get for keeping him around for so long.  In my eyes Ron is the biggest LOSER, and by loser I mean creep. Maybe after Mike wins the cash and gets skinny he can go on Survivor.  They LOVE schemers over there.

Every 4 or 8 years or so

the other side gets a turn to be the loser and claim the sky is falling. Can't we all just get along?

The Daily Show With Jon StewartM - Th 11p / 10c
Baracknophobia - Obey
Daily Show
Full Episodes
Economic CrisisPolitical Humor

My favorite part is the Potato Day guy.

Saturday, April 18, 2009

Someone should really take away my library card

This is what my nightstand looks like.
I could be killed if that fell over on me during the night.

Wednesday, April 15, 2009

A little bit of this, a little bit of that.....

Have you seen that stupid movie, Premonition? The one where Sandra Bullock (so what? I can watch Sandra Bullock movies if I want to) has a “vision” that something horrible is going to happen, and she does everything she can think of to stop it, but in the end it’s because of her efforts that her fears come true? That’s how I feel. Like the harder I try to NOT be crazy, I just end up being a different kind of crazy? The more I try to give up control in some areas, the more need I have to be in control of other areas. Anyone else?

If a bobble head “statue” is being produced in your likeness, is that a positive thing? Do you call your friends and family to brag?

The battle between my husband and our neighbor with the late night barking dog gained fresh intensity last night when after a heated discussion that ended with my husband hanging up on her, the dog owner called back and left a message (because I would not allow my husband further phone privileges) saying that not only was he a jerk but also a jackass and that if he wanted to pursue this battle, he should “Bring it on buddy! And I think she means it.

This is probably something that doesn’t need to be said, but if it happened to me it could happen to anyone, so just a heads up. If you are in the habit of putting lots of books on hold at the library, so many in fact, that you forget what you are waiting for, you just wait for the call from the library to notify you they are ready and then you stop in and grab them, you might want to go to the library alone when you pick up your hold books. And here’s why. Say you are looking for Feminine Mystique and come across a couple other books that look interesting so you put something like “Set His Thighs on Fire” on hold, and then forgot about it. You are going to be soo embarrassed when you grab the book off the shelf and your daughter says “What’s THAT about?” Fire safety.

My Crocs arrived this weekend. At first I wasn’t sure if they are all I built them up to be, but after I finally cut the tags off and took them for a spin I think they are going to be just fine. Unless they aren’t. Why am I so stinking picky?

Last month my husband and I were cleaning out a closet and we found an old VHS copy of My Turn on Earth, and because we think we are really super clever we said to each other “Hey, we should introduce Ivy (our one and only daughter /singing dancing machine.) to My Turn on Earth!” And that is just what we did. We are such fools. Her brothers may never forgive us. Just like many other decisions we have made as a couple, we are living to regret that little joke. Now all conversations are taking place to the tune of “You better back up fast”
(If you don’t know what My Turn on Earth is, just thank your lucky stars and keep moving, DO NOT go to Amazon.com and order a used copy cheap, you will regret it. –You’ve been warned.)

One of these days I’m going to make a bunch of signs that say “Shhhhh!!!!” and post them all around the library. What is it with people these days that they are not quiet in the library? When I dash in to pick up my held books I expect a few moments of peace, is that too much to ask?

Recently we had my husband’s brother and his family here visiting for a week. It was mostly a nice visit, but I have some issues my therapist has not yet been able to help me resolve, and after a few days of my nieces pointing out the “bad” things I was watching, reading, and listening to, I started turning my music up just a little louder and pretending like I couldn’t hear them when they asked me if this song was going to have naughty words too. I’m not a very nice person.

I almost forgot, The Biggest Loser. What up? They really had to vote on whether or not Laura should go home? REALLY? They're killing me.

Oh, you didn't think this post was going to make sense did you? Surely you weren't expecting to get down here to the bottom and find that all of these things had something in common, did you? Sorry, no, today is NOT one of those days when I make any sense at all. It's a Wednesday that feels like a Monday, but ought to be Friday already considering how busy I've been. Maybe tomorrow I will be able dig up a logical train of thought for you. Sure, I bet I will.........Unless I don't, in which case.............There's always Friday.

Monday, April 13, 2009

The ability to entertain is a priceless gift.

Sarcasm, I may have mentioned, brings great joy to my cold little heart. Wit is not something everyone knows how to use, and when they do, it takes practice to have just the right amount of edge. We can’t all make it work. David Sedaris makes it work, he’s hilarious. I think so anyway.

When I read his books I often laugh out loud. Sometimes I find him so hysterical tears will come to my eyes, I have even, on occasion, cackled. I know, it’s not exactly dainty, but sometimes, yes, a cackle or two will slip out. When that happens, my husband, who is more of a listener of books than a reader of fine literature, will say “What’s so funny?” So I will try to tell him, or even read a passage to him, pretty soon he will wrinkle up his forehead and say “Isn’t he that gay guy?” Then he will scowl, because everyone knows if you are a man and you think a homosexual is funny, well, you might be a little bit gay too. (What’s the deal with that?) I have offered to pick up some Sedaris on CD at the library for him, but no. The only thing worse that a book being read to Sylvan by a reader with a bad English accent is the possibility that someone will reveal the details of their alternate lifestyle, and that, my friends is not a chance he is willing to take.

Anyway, Mr. Sedaris, as I was saying, has a real gift for story telling. His descriptions of people and their mannerisms are so clever, so wry, so insightful, I would have given about a million dollars for him to have attended the Sunday school class I was in yesterday. It was a special class, a missionary something or another. We got a call on Saturday extending a special invitation to Sylvan and me, asking if we would commit to taking part for the next three Sundays. I really should have asked a few more questions before agreeing. Some things can only be learned the hard way.

I should confess, I am a Sunday school truant. We are fortunate to have really good/entertaining Sunday school teachers in our ward, so that is not the reason for my continued class skipping, I really have no excuse. I am a lame-o. And now the hammer has fallen. This “special” class was obviously put together to teach me a lesson, and I don’t think the lesson has anything to do with missionary work.

Upon arrival I was relieved to find that we had been given what I considered an acceptable teacher for this course. By that, I mean he is well versed in the subject matter as well as being a fairly funny guy. That was as far as I was able to extend my relief. There were seven chairs for students. Seven, though one remained empty, the others were soon filled. This is a class apparently meant to be taught in an intimate setting. By intimate I mean in the room next to the stage that is sometimes used as a storage closet. Very cozy.

Two other couples would be joining us on our journey toward effective missionaryism.

Couple one, a very serious and righteous twosome. Not to be messed around with. They know what they know, and dang it you should too, because they are right. Until yesterday I had assumed the wife to be somewhat meek and soft spoken, but no more. I was a little worried that she was going to challenge my husband to some sort of scriptorial duel when he dared disagree with one of her missionary tactics. We were assured, by her and her husband that she has a system, and it has yet to fail her. I can’t tell you how comforting that was to know.

Couple two, are a nice enough pair. They are retired and very much enjoy missionary work and genealogy in all forms. They delight in traveling to historic sites of ancestral importance, like cemeteries and county recorders offices. In fact, she in her “oh my goodness” breathless voice and he in his “mouth so full of marbles you probably need a translator” voice, shared story after story of their adventures in conversion and genealogical success, so many stories, in fact, that we may have to stretch our 3 week class to a 6 to 8 week course. Unfortunately my Sunday school attention span is not quite that long, three weeks, especially with this crowd is going to be pushing it.

Yes indeed. Two couples with very different approaches, yet both obviously very engaged in missionary work. And us. Two people with good intentions, but very little “combat” experience, and the entire time, me, biting my lip to keep from laughing out loud and just wishing David Sedaris could have been sitting in that extra chair. Not only could he would he have been able to retell the story far better than I, but if we had thrown a sarcastic gay man into that mix, boy howdy, the fun we could have had.

Wednesday, April 8, 2009

You can thank me later

Have you guys heard of this website? Sexy People? OH MY GOSH!!! So hilarious.

This one especially. It doesn't matter how many times I look at it, I laugh until I cry. Oh, and this one. HA! I mean, seriously, what were they thinking? I've started just reading the archives, it's a much better relaxation technique than those dumb breathing exercises I usually do.

Tuesday, April 7, 2009

This entire post is just an excuse to use the word Trebuchet.

Last night I took a book to bed with me, which usually does not guarantee that I will get to read for very long, or at all, as my husband needs the room to be totally dark and silent so he can ease into a state of peaceful restlessness and keep me up all night with his loud snoring and pillow punching. Along with the book, I took a couple Tylenol PMs so I would be able to sleep instead of lying awake all night having panic attacks like I did the night before.( Note to the people responsible for my job security : Thanks for changing things up, it’s not stressing me out AT ALL!)

At 11:55 I was startled awake by the facts that I had fallen asleep with the light on and there was no chainsaw buzzing in the bed next to me. So I did what I know any one of you would have done, I grabbed my cell phone off my “nightstand” and called him. What? I was too sleepy to send a text.

I was a little concerned because sleep is a very important part of my husband’s day.

Turns out, there was need for concern. No, he wasn’t doing anything dangerous, like chasing down burgulars, or noble, like ridding the neighborhood of barking dogs, instead of getting his needed beauty rest and keeping me from getting mine, he was playing a video game. Well…..a computer game. It’s not the same really is it? No. Sadly, it is not.

This one though must be causing sleepless nights for parents around the world due to its realistic and violent graphics. Here’s a screen shot-

I KNOW! Can you believe it? It's almost like you are right in the middle of the Middle Ages. It’s called Castle Clout (what does that even mean? Clout?!) and the object is to, using the space bar, fling boulders with your trebuchet over to the castle and knock it down. You get extra points if you knock down the soldiers, who look like harmless little nutcrackers to me. He stayed up until 1 a.m. when he finally “beat” the game. I bet the pride he feels today surely outweighs the exhaustion. I hope so anyway.

Friday, April 3, 2009

I'm not saying this really happened....

.......but hypothetically speaking, lets just say, by chance, you are a teenager, one who enjoys a nice long hot shower, which I get, really, I myself love a nice long hot shower (or at least I used to when there was still hot water left for me to shower in). Then lets say, hypothetically again, that everyday you insist you “just got in”(when really you and I both know you didn’t JUST get in), and everyday, every single day, after your mother has grown tired of listening to the family’s hot water supply, not to mention the water supply of the perpetually drought stricken southwestern region of the United States, run down the drain for 20 minutes, she gently knocks on the door (because she knows how sensitive you are in the mornings) to remind you that you are not an only child and that your siblings might not love taking a cold shower-- why oh why- I really want to know- do you say  "WHAAAT!?”? And, when your mother says “Hey, you need to get out of there” (like you didn’t see that coming) do you reply “I KNOWWWWW!!! You tell me this everyday!”? Everyday? Really? If someone told me the same thing EVERYDAY I think I would get sick of it, so sick maybe that I would shorten the length of my shower, just to spite them. But that’s just me, I’m small like that.

Is this a strategy, a well thought out plan, a torture technique used by secret agents, (which you may or may not be, I haven’t decided yet) to try to crush my spirit? When you have succeeded in making me lose my mind what are your diabolical plans? Will you never eat your vegetables again? Will you never be home on time again? Will you finally tell your Spanish teacher what you really think of her? Will you wear the same socks everyday for a week? Will you park your bike in the living room? I’m just wondering, I’m so very near the deep end, before I jump I would love to know what pleasures you will seek in my absence.