Saturday, July 31, 2010

Is that your blood?

Have you guys seen this? It's got me wanting to start a little club of my own.  Maybe a "Book Group Fight Club"? There are a couple of women in my book group I'm pretty sure I could take.

Friday, July 30, 2010

It's Friday, you know what that means....

...pretty much not really anything, but, because I like you, here are a few items you might find interesting.

This morning I rode my bike 6.42 miles (that's not the interesting part, but it is impressive, is it not? Also, it was drizzling lightly outside...so basically raining..I know. I'm a champ) when I came to the portion of my ride that runs next to the city cemetery The Beastie Boys were in my ear singing (saying? yelling?) "I hope she'll say "hey me and you should hit the hay"~I axed her out, she said NO WAY!".  Before I knew it, I was singing along.  Right there next to someones dearly departed granny. Can you believe that?

Of course you can.

Creme Brulee is my favorite dessert. Once, a really long time ago (in a land far far away-just kidding, I think it was on the other side of town) I had chocolate creme brulee in a restaurant, it was by far the best creme brulee I've ever eaten in my life. Sadly, I had pretty much forgotten about it until this morning, now I cannot remember the name of that restaurant so it's possible I will never have chocolate creme brulee ever again, unless I make it myself. 

Which seems unlikely.

I am not the slightest bit curious about Chelsea Clinton's wedding plans. Do you think there's something wrong with me? I mean, I'm sure she's a perfectly nice person (actually I'm not sure at all due to the fact that I've never met her or for that matter been anywhere near her) but I just don't care what she wears or what she feeds her guests. 

Finally, when all else fails there's guys like this, letting me know that, yes indeed, I could be a worse parent.

Wednesday, July 28, 2010

I'm probably not going to win a million dollars for my math skills. I can live with that.

Remember, oh, around the time summer vacation started, when I got all up on my high horse and said all that crap about wanting my kids to wake up early and make something of themselves? Yeah....I'm so over it. I'm not proud of myself, but we've reached the point of giving bonus points to the child who sleeps in the latest. Pathetic, eh? I know.

I'm no math genius or anything but I have worked out a fairly simple equation that leaves me with approximately 3.458 fewer hours each day for listening to my kids tell me how bored they are, or how stupid chores are, and most importantly, less time for them to ask me to venture out into the inferno-like heat to give them a ride here there and everywhere. (holy hell, it is HOT here)

It goes like this--{let precious children sleep until 10:00} (sometimes even 11:00, what the heck, they need their rest) + 1 hour of chores [30 minutes of reading] multiplied by .555% minus the square root of lunch = significantly less name calling, whining, and dirty laundry (don't ask me why there are less clothes to wash, there just are. I already told you I don't know anything about math.)

I'm calling it "The Theory of Inconsistency". I expect the math people to call me any minute now.

Friday, July 23, 2010

And also there's this....

The 60's are starting to totally wig me out.

Can we talk about Mad Men for a minute? Ok, maybe more than a minute. I know you all love it, because, hello?, what's not to love, right? (Besides Peggy's bangs, man I hope they're letting her have a new hair-do this season. Poor girl.)


Everywhere I turn it's Mad Men mania. Here, there, all over the place.  I'll admit, I'm a big sucker for it, but I'm starting to get a little worried about over exposure. Remember what happened when Martha Stewart was in all the places all the times? Pretty soon we all realized that her standards couldn't be too high if she was hawking her sheets at K-mart and from there it was just a short hop to crocheting ponchos in a low security women's facility, and seriously, Martha never really got her groove back after that. I know it's a leap, but I'm kind of afraid that's going to happen to Don Draper. And lets be honest, I'm not really sure how much exposure January Jones can stand. What if they get spread too thin? What if the charm wears off? What if......

Aren't you so glad you have me to bring attention to great global crisises such as this? (holy moly~is that how you spell it when you have more than one crisis?)

Which brings me to my next Mad Men problem-- cable. More specifically, my lack of it. Up to now I've done all of my Mad Med viewing through the magic of Netflix, which is a truly magical way to watch TV. No waiting a week for the next episode, no staying up until 10 pm to see your shows (sidenote~for reals AMC, what's up with the 10 pm time slot? I'm no spring chicken, I'm not really at my best after 9:30, just something to think about), no commercials.....Blah, blah, blah, the important thing is, this Sunday evening a new season of the wildly over promoted Mad Men will premier at 10:00 pm on basic cable and woe is me. In the olden days I would've given a friend a blank VHS tape and asked them to record my show with their VCR (youngsters~ A VHS tape is the stone age version of a DVD and also the winner of the great VHS/BETAMax battle of the late 70's which was much like the DVD\Blue Ray battle you are living through in this day, and a VCRs were these nifty machines that recorded the things you saw on the TV for future viewing, much like a DVR, but with a lesser picture quality) The thing is, I don't know, can you record the things on your TV to a DVD? And if so, do I have a friend with both basic cable and the ability to do such things? Do I?

Also, this has nothing to do with Mad Men, but it made me laugh.....because it is funny.....and, believe it or not, contrary to what my children say, I have a fine sense of humor.

Monday, July 19, 2010

I don't think there's any denying that I should be medicated

I was emptying my google reader Saturday morning and I noticed that there was a blogger meet-up planned for that night in Mesa. I don’t usually attend those sorts of events (by “usually", I mean never, I’m not really into the whole meeting new people thing), but I did look to see who had signed up to go and thought maybe it would be fun, if a person were into meeting new people (which I'm NOT).

Then I basically put it out of my mind and got on with my day.

Later it popped into my head again and I remembered my friend Tara and the fact that she also blogs and wondered if she was planning to go. Nah. It’s not like we’re buddies, besides, I convinced myself she would think I was a big weirdo if I called her out of the blue, and asked her to be my security blanket. (Because the reason I’m not into meeting new people is, duh, it makes me nervous, therefore I never go into such situations alone. Never.)

Once again I put it out of my mind.

That afternoon I was running errands when this tweet came to my phone~

Girls Night Out in Mesa tonight 6-9pm at Nielson's on Gilbert/Southern. Anybody local want to go with me? Hosted by Mormon Mommy Blogs

Crap. I did want to go…I guess….But the idea of spending the evening with a bunch of people who may or may not be crazy themselves was somehow not at seeming like a good idea….yet....I couldn’t help thinking “Why not? What’s the worst thing that could happen?” (hahaha!).

Like the true nerds we are we proceeded to have a twittersation~

Me~ @WellRndedWoman i'm on the fence. I kindof want to go, but my reclusive alter-ego is screaming noooo.

Her~ @mrssylvan Plleeaase come with me. I'm nervous to go by myself & would love the chance to talk to you in person. We haven't done that much.

Me~ @WellRndedWoman gah...ok...but I'm not that much fun in person. do you want to ride together?

5 minutes pass…..

10 minutes pass…..

…silence. Was Tara punking me? Could it be possible my anxiety issues were creeping her out? I’d already put on mascara(which is not something I take lightly) so I bit the bullet and called her. (We used to be in the same ward, so too bad for Tara, I have access to her contact information.) She totally pretended that my crazy didn’t freak her out and said that, yes, she was planning to go, and I was welcome to come and sit next to her as long as I didn’t have a panic attack and puke on her shoes. I wasn’t sure I could make that promise, but I didn’t let on to her.

That settled, and me feeling like the most ginormous dork EVER I knew I had no choice now but to go- if I didn’t my new best friend Tara might tell a bunch of strangers what I flippin’ loon I was and there was no way I was going to let that to happen, so I moved along to the next dilemma…What does one wear when meeting people new people and one wants to make a good impression but doesn’t want to appear to have put too much thought into it. Hmm. While I was busily putting way too much thought into that great mystery I noticed my bangs. Crap! People take pictures at these things. There was no getting around it, I was going to have to trim them. (Because nothing says “good first impression” like a bunch of bang trimmings on your nose the when you meet someone new, especially a bunch of someones who talk about their lives on the internet…… “And then there was this one lady with a sweaty upper lip and little pieces of hair all over her shirt….”)

Are you getting the idea that my crazy runs deeper than any of us could have predicted?

I decided I should calm myself down with a shot of vodka. Then I remembered, CRAP….We. Don’t. Drink. Are we nuts?! (well, one of us is that’s for sure)

At some point (2 shots of Listerine later) I told myself that despite the fact that I had giant nervous sweat circles all up in my armpit area, not going would be an admission of defeat, and if we’ve learned anything at all from my illustrious 2 season soccer coaching career it’s that I’m no quitter.

On the drive over, hoping for a little support in my hour of need, I called a friend to confess my self created completely ridicules predicament, and she, as a solid testament to the fact that I surround myself with compassionate loving people, began laughing her head off, when she (finally) noticed I wasn’t laughing with her, she said “oh, you’re serious aren’t you honey? I thought you were making it up.” As a continued show of her devotion she sent a steady stream of texts throughout the evening that said things like “hahaha” and “are they making fun of your sweaty pits?”

Honestly, I cannot imagine why I felt so compelled to go meet a bunch of strangers, except that at some point it became about not backing down and letting my anxiety win. Tara must truly think I'm a psycho. I was beyond nervous. I couldn’t decide which would be worse, for these people to NOT have ever read my blog or the alternative, them “knowing” me, but not really. It ended up not being so bad. Everyone was super nice, and I was able to relax~a little. It’s hard to say if the best part was when we made our initial introductions and I was physically unable to speak, or when everyone was telling the year that they graduated from high school and I realized that I am, um, really old. (the closest to my age graduated 7 years after I did, and it was downhill from there. I was like, “Oh yeah, I’m one of those grandma bloggers who writes about Geritol” and they were all like, blank faces, “Dude, what’s Geritol?”) Luckily the other women were pretty chatty and I didn’t have a chance to loosen up and say a bunch of things that would have required an I’m sorry I can’t control my mouth post, thank heavens. (Although, I have to say, when the situation calls for it, I’m getting pretty good at the morning after apology e-mail). I even got to bring home a gift basket that consisted of some lotions, a bunch of candy bars, and this stuff called Little Stinker Baby Butt Spray, I'm not making it up. It’s for spraying in the air before you change a smelly diaper, because apparently these new fangled moms don’t like holding their breath. Who knew?

What did YOU do this weekend?

Thursday, July 15, 2010

Like a freakin' box of chocolates

Last night, as part of my continuing effort to waste time in the most wastefully asinine ways possible, I simultaneously watched several episodes of Psych while browsing the internet for useless information that could be stored in the far corners of my mind and drawn upon at a future date when I need to win a rousing round of current events Trivial Pursuit. I know, you admire my resolve and and wish you could be as proficient a time waster as I....I am....me. Whatever.  Dream on.

Like I was saying, internet browsing...... I came across this site, wherein you copy and paste a sample of something you've written and through the magic of internetical technology your writing will be analyzed and matched up with the "real" writer your writing resembles.  Make sense?

I decided not to use any of the text from the novel I'm writing (mostly because I haven't started writing it yet), instead I used a recent blog post. I'm sure you can imagine my surprise when I was told that I write like Stephen King.  Really? Richard Bachman maybe, but Stephen King.  I don't think so.

I write like
Stephen King
I Write Like by Mémoires, Mac journal software. Analyze your writing!
I thought I should try again with a different post. This time I was informed that I write like Mark Twain. Awesome. But in all fairness to Mr. Clemens, not likely.

I write like
Mark Twain
I Write Like by Mémoires, Mac journal software. Analyze your writing!
Giving it another go, I picked a more self depreciating post, hoping for David Sedaris, and was shocked to be matched up with Dan Brown. Seriously?! Dan The DiVinci Code Brown? I'm not even sure how I feel about that one.(Actually, I'm quite sure how I feel about it, but since I'm doubting the accuracy of this fortune telling mumbo jumbo I've decided not to let it get me down.)

I write like
Dan Brown
I Write Like by Mémoires, Mac journal software. Analyze your writing!
I had to give it one more chance before moving along to other more serious time squandering activities. Success!! This time I was paired with Salinger. Though I have a feeling it has less to do with my writing style and more to do with my reclusive nature.

I write like
J. D. Salinger
I Write Like by Mémoires, Mac journal software. Analyze your writing!

If nothing else I have to say, the Analyze Your Writing slot machine has alluded to the fact that I am a very versatile writer with a wide range of "styles" that are sure to keep the reader guessing, and that, my friends, is going to look awesome when I use it as a blurb on the book jacket of my future horrifying, satirical, suspense filled, angst ridden novel. 

It's gonna be a classic, if I were you, I would pre-order now.

Tuesday, July 6, 2010


..are these not the cutest things you've ever seen?
I'm almost certain they fall into the need category.
Get yours here

Monday, July 5, 2010

It goes like that sometimes.

I'm tired. All of the extra resting I've done this weekend is starting to catch up to me. My plan was to go to bed early and wake up refreshed so I could start the second half of the year bright and shiny at the crack of dawn tomorrow morning, but I made the mistake of thinking I'd read for a few minutes, then my husband fell asleep first, now he's over there snoring like a freight train and I doubt I'm going to be nodding off anytime soon.

Did I ever tell you about how when I was in the army, the other 7 girls in my room tried to fall asleep before I did because I snored so loud they couldn't fall asleep, a couple of them even had to wear earplugs? I don't normally snore, unless I'm really really tired, which I most certainly was during basic training. That was the tiredest I've ever been in my life, followed by having a newborn.

I wish you could hear him. Like a chain saw I tell you. Chain. Saw.  I can't imagine how he sleeps through it.

Have you guys seen Eclipse? What did you think? Wow. That's about all I can say, besides I hope someday when she's older, my daughter has a chance to see it again and she thinks back on how selfless her mother was and gets me a trip to Europe for Mother's Day. Also, I'd like to say, double wow. That's Stephanie Meyer is one lucky lady, she's on my list of authors who musta made a pact with the devil, she's right after Steig Larrson, because, really, what else could explain her good fortune?  And also, I think, what's her name, Kristen Stewart, acts all goofy and fame hating because she's embarrassed. It's a defense mechanism. Poor girl.

Sadly, I could go on and on about this and 10 other pointless topics, but I think I'm gonna take the bull by the horns and sleep on the sofa. You're welcome.

Sunday, July 4, 2010

Friday, July 2, 2010

Who knew?

So, there's this Russian guy who figured out the solution to some smancy math problem and the Math People tried to give him a million dollars as a reward for all his hard work but he turned them down because he's not interested in fame. Really, I'm not making this up.

What I want to know is, how do they (The Math People) even know there's an unsolvable equation in the the first place? Seriously, where do these unsolved problems come from? And also, are there math groupies? Is there a lot of paparazzi pressure from the Math tabloids? And finally, the article claims that Mr. Perelman (I almost hesitate to mention his name for fear of mathies clogging up my blog) is the World's Cleverest Man. WHAT?! How did I not know there was an official recognition of the world's cleverest people? I mean, I might not be the cleverest right now, but who knows? It's absolutely something to shoot for. And if it turns out there's a prize for being the most clever you can bet I won't be turning it down.  I am totally interested in fame.

Thursday, July 1, 2010

Apparently summer makes me cranky

Yesterday I wrote the longest post you've ever seen, it was all about how I'm a tich annoyed because our local fireworks display will be on Saturday instead of it's rightful day, Sunday. Which is stupid because I really don't have the gumption to be properly annoyed, and really why would I? Saturday is fine. Clearly I'm on the cusp of a breakdown if I'm making things up to be irritated about. I decided not to post it and look like a silly fool, but I didn't decide until I had, like a silly fool, spent over an hour writing it. What on earth gets into me? Now there's something to by annoyed about.

Last night my son had a dive meet and afterwards I was like a whining maniac. It was so hot, which frankly, it tends to be here on the sun's surface.  The idiots sitting next to us kept swearing, really foul F-word swearing. I'm pretty sure they were gangsters, a fact that seemed to paralyze me. There was no way I was going to ask them to stop (I'm not sure if they could have anyway) and I was afraid to move, because I had looked over my shoulder at them one too many times.  I may not know too many things but I know for sure I do not want to die because some gangsters shot me at a dive meet for giving them the stink eye. So we sat and sweated while they sat a few rows away and swore.  When it was all over (3rd place for our diver!!) I figured we deserved to go to Sonic, because after you've been sitting in an oven for 2 hours hoping you won't get shot the thing you want to do most in the world is wait for 23 minutes while Sonic makes two shakes and a big soda, right?

Dear Sonic,
What up with the wait times yo? If you are making me wait longer because you think it will deter me from coming back for so many buy one get one free shakes you clearly underestimate my feelings about a bargain. However, once you're shake sale is over you're dead to me.


Yours truly,
Someone who obviously doesn't appreciate the ins and outs of cooking tater-tots

I should really try to stay home for a few days.