Sunday, January 31, 2010

Embarrassing Music Collection (otherwise known first Dairy Queen paychecks wasted)

It is with a heavy heart and tired brain that I write this. This entire week I have been in the search of a cd that I know I had in my collection. I wanted this cd because of something Mr. O said in a previous email that I thought YES! I need my Punk-o-Rama 3 cd.

Once you click on the link you can understand why I wanted to find this. It was, still is, awesome. I mean, who can't appreciate a song like "Haulass Hyena" by The Cramps?? I can because it's fabulous.

But the search took me to every hiding place I have for my ridiculous amount of cd's. This is where you'd say, "Sara, how many cd's do you have??" I have over 3000 folks. My cast-offs have been keeping Disc-Go-Round in business since I was 16.

You see when I was 16 I got a job working at Dairy Queen, which you know, not very glamorous but at the time it was better than nothing. Which is really what the other option was because of all the places I applied to Dairy Queen was the only place to call me back. Bitches.

Me (on the right) working for The Man in a super unsanitary and unprofessional Dairy QueenOne day I'll do an entire Dairy Queen post but today- we talk about my music collection. Because while I looked in my car, the boxes stored all over the house, in my daughter's room (I just found my missing Paramore cd next to my Led Zeppelin greatest hits under her bed), my closet, the back porch, under my bed, under my dresser, in the dining room, in the kitchen junk drawer and finally, the box that stores stupid random things I keep for no real reason. (Eventually it might make sense to consolidate..)

But on the journey to find the lone cd I hadn't listened to in years I found hundreds of cd's that I am embarrassed to say I own.

Taylor Dane's greatest hits? Marty Casey and the Lovehammers? (Shut up, you know you liked their song "Trees" on Rockstar:INXS), Jamie Cullum?, Robyn? (And shut your mouth if you didn't sing along to that in 1998 or whenever and pretend you were Sweedish), Monster Ballads (I'm not ashamed per say on this one because I can sing along to ballads of the 80's like it's nobody's business. My friend Jessica and I made a baton routine to "Here We Go"...WhiteSnake. We fucking rocked it out in her driveway), Waiting to Exhale soundtrack (you know you are probably singing the "shoop shoop" song write now..), Edwin McCain?, Bloodhound Gang (and let's be honest- if you own one, you know you own at least two), Cypress Hill? (Not going to lie- totally added "Dr. Greenthumb" to my player to your right.) Insane Clown Posse? (This was before Eminem said they were gay. And I judge the "gangsta" level by what a hot white rapper says) (don't roll your eyes at me- even though he had songs about killing his baby momma you know you wanted to be the baby momma), Schoolhouse Rock? (I am not ashamed that the only reason why I pass 9th grade Civics and 10th grade American Government was this cd. "I'm Just A Bill" anyone? "Three is a Magic Number"? Yeah- don't lie. You are just as lame as I am)

Anyways- but yah. There are a LOT of cd's that I have that I continue to keep because I secretly rock out to them. (Who hasn't sung "Unbreak My Heart" when cleaning??) But I sure as hell would not leave them out in the open. Dang. Just like I did when Britney Spears was all bat shit fucking crazy, I totally hid her "Blackout" cd even though it was awesome. My, at the time, 3 year old was singing to "Toy Soldier".

But how did I get all of these, you ask? Well every two weeks I'd get a paycheck between $200-250. (I was part time, bitches) and would blow it all on cd's from Target. Well, except for my bus pass because I wasn't cool enough to have my parents drive me. Actually, I was all hot shit because I was independent without a license. But I did have a walkman, a green Jansport backpack defiled with stupid shit that was full of cd's, and books. Which was handy because it could also double as a weapon if the people who talked to themselves on the bus tried to get too friendly. I was a hot bitch, folks. I still am but in a different capacity.

Super cute mommy. With a full closet, a random backpack behind me, no flooring in my bedroom and a full basket of laundry I'm refusing to acknowledge.

Book Review: BELONG TO ME by Marisa de los Santos

I just finished this book yesterday and so I thought I had better put the review up now before I forget about it. Like I have with at leas 28 other books. Sorry, yall!

You may have noticed this book on my nightstand from early this week because I had to leave myself to reading this at night. When I picked up the book and started reading I was really excited. One of the main characters, Cornelia, was sassy and sharp. Like me. This is like the quickest way to get me interested in a book.
But then I realized that this was really like three stories rolled into one book and you would be flip flopping between Cornelia, Dev (the new kid in town with his single mom), and Piper (the perfect bitch from across the way that you so badly want to bitch slap ALL.OF.THE.TIME.) And if a book flip flops between two characters it's doable and usually ok. Three characters? Ok three is kind of third wheel. It makes it hard.
All of the characters, except Piper, were likeable and relatable. I just wanted to smack Cornelia up because her husband, Teo, sounds like a hot dreamboat and she's kind of blah but you do get the sense that she appreciates his hotness and awesomeness. It touches on lasting love (Cornelia and Teo), bonds of friendship, even after loss (Piper and Elizabeth), douche bag husbands (Piper and Kyle), and young love (Dev)
The ending? I totally saw it coming. It was as predictable as the sun coming up. Which made it more frustrating for me when I thought I knew what was going to happen and it did. I think the only thing I was surprised about in the end was how selfish Cornelia came off, how not understanding she was.
It's not really a chick lit, but I think only chicks would dig it. I mean, what man do you know would pick up a book with brightly colored rainboots on the front? None. So it's a girly book but it's not one of those that are gripping. Once I figured out what was going to happen about half way through it was hard for me to finish.

Get Sketchy #23

Seriously, two weeks in a row, yall! I think my scrappin mojo is back.

(or more likely I have an enormous amount of supplies that Matt might demand I get rid of since I'm not using them. And that can't be happening. My scrapbook closet is like an episode of Hoarders, I swear)

(minus the dead animals, dentures, food and feces)

But let's just get excited because this week-----I'm not entering at the last minute! Yay!!


Here's my card for this week's Get Sketchy challenge.

And for once? This one I actually like. AND it only took me one full minute to think of and do. Seriously watch out folks- my brain is working at like warp speed. It could get dangerous.

Saturday, January 30, 2010

Book Review: WHACKED by Jules Asner

I bet you all thought that maybe I stopped reading, huh? Well no. I've just been busy with the last week of posts and decided that I'll have super funny tales during the week and book reviews on the weekend. Because let's face it- it's just easier. And I'm all about easy, and organized, and scheduled. Anyways..

So I finished the book Whacked which was written by Jules Asner. Jules used to be an E! Personality, is married to Steven Soderbergh, etc. That's why the name is familiar. And if it still isn't, then that means you don't scope out the gossip blogs. Like me.

Here's a quickie description of the book from Amazon: Dani Hale is a staff writer for the successful forensics procedural Flesh and Blood, but while her professional success isn’t in question, she is finding her love life to be a trickier prospect. She is massively insecure in her relationship with her boyfriend of two years, a television director named Dave, and after conducting her own investigation, she soon discovers all her fears were founded when she learns he has been cheating on her with an up-and-coming starlet named Chloe. Dani dumps Dave and gingerly reenters the dating pool only to find that the prospects are grim. When Chloe turns up as a guest star on Dani’s show, Dani finds herself seeing red. This delightful black comedy shows how easy it is for someone to be driven to extremes—and how seamlessly a person can go from rifling through receipts to reading someone’s personal e-mail and beyond. Clever and witty, Asner’s debut will appeal to readers who like biting satire. --Kristine Huntley

Now I'll tell you---I didn't like the book. I read it and finished it, but didn't like it. For a various of reasons.

Number 1- I thought the characters were lame. They were predictable and you just couldn't like any of them. Dani is an idiot. She would be like that one friend you know you have who is constantly bitching about everything but refuses to do anything about it. Ever. We all have a friend like that and avoid his/her phone calls.

Number 2- Dave is a fuckhead. You KNOW he's cheating on her. Any idiot with half a brain and experience watching daytime talk shows and/or Law & Order could figure that out. And what I thought was ridiculous is when Dani figures it out, she looks through his phone that's just laying out on the counter. He gets mad. Well dang- OF COURSE she's going to look through his phone. Or a fucking moron wouldn't if you pretty much know he's cheating and are too stupid to figure it out.

Number 3- The ending was lame. I thought it was lame. It felt like the author just kind of got sick of writing and figured "good enough". I was kind of pissy.

It's definitely not a book I would re-read, I wouldn't even suggest it for book club. It's kind of blah. Expect this one to show up in Goodwills, Salvation Army and yard sales soon.

Thursday, January 28, 2010

My Plight With The Bra or The Twins That Escape

If you are a man you aren't full able to appreciate the issues bras present. Sure you may struggle with getting them off or unclasping the hooks (especially if it's a new one) but you can't appreciate the amount of work that goes into purchasing a bra. And those of you who have little to nothing hanging off your chest like dead weight you may not get it either. But for those of us with a C cup and beyond I think we can all agree that trying on and purchasing bras is almost as bad as trying to purchase pants. That fit. Well. And look cute. I mean, I think we've all had a shitfit in a changing room. Right?

No? Well I have.

And I thought that I would post pictures of me, in bras (with a shirt on, obvs- this isn't Playboy yall) to show you the massive difference between bras. There are some bras that are great, nice cups, the wire doesn't cut off circulation or slice under your arms, the straps stay on, the girls stay in. But then, there are even more out there that are awful. Your boobs spill out, your arms are red, raw and maybe bleeding, straps sliding down, OR the girls are so strapped in that you feel like you could bungee jump and have them go nowhere. Neither of these options is good. Or comfortable. In fact they make me angry.
There is nothing sexy, cute, or attractive about a chick hiking up her bra every 10 minutes.

But because every picture I took was either NC17 or shittastic, I decided to go with this:

So this is me, in my jammies with my girls roaming free. No bra. So you can see here what I'm working with and how obviously CRITICAL it is to get a decent bra. (And for you freaks that didn't believe me before, this is me sans makeup. Again.) (and? Has anyone noticed that most of my pics are taken in my bathroom??)

I used to be a 36C before babies. I was that way from ages 15-23. At age 23 I had Olivia. I didn't breastfeed but I will tell you the pain that is known as milk drying up? Excrutiating. When I say they were literally hard as rocks I am not exaggerating. But they grew to a 36D and have not gone down. I was REALLY scared when I had Jackson because I went to DD and I thought oh hell no. THAT is not going to happen. Thankfully I deflated. A little. But here I am. 36D and can't find a bra to save my life.

I have to buy bras at expensive stores. And I'm sorry but paying $50+ for a piece of fabric that holds the girls seems insane. And now in my size? Everything is either sheer or lace. Which is fine except for it's freezing here. Do you know what a sheer bra does for warmth? Do you know what the after effects of frozen boobs under a thin shirt? Not good. I am not going to resort to pasties because if we're being honest? I would rather have someone see a nipple than a stupid heart on my boobs. Women wearing those? YOU LOOK STUPID AND WE CAN TELL. And we laugh at you when you walk away. At least I do.

But if you find a really great bra, holds you in and is comfortable? At a 36D your girls will look like cones. And we know how natural that looks.

*sigh* So boys. The next time you are with a girl and you are going there, please appreciate the bra. Say, "nice bra- looks great". Because there is work that goes into it. And if she has the matching panties? Bonus. Love her long time you lucky dog.

Wednesday, January 27, 2010

What do the 4 food groups and the food pyramid have in common?

They are all contain things I won't eat.

It's here yall- the post that details everything I will and will not eat. I am a picky eater and have been since birth. Some of these may shock you. You may wonder how I have survived this long. You may try to stage an intervention. You may want to hold a tasting party for me. But don't worry lambs, I'm alive. I may have horrible cholesterol and a BMI over the charts but I wouldn't know. Because I? Am 27 and don't care. Ask me in 10 years when I'm approaching 40 and freaking out. (Sidenote: That last sentence?? Panic attack inducing. At least I'm aging well).

So let's do this shit, shall we? Giddy up.

Things Sara Will NOT eat:
Vegetables (except cucumbers, lettuce, and corn but not corn on the cob)
Fruits (except red apples, and seedless grapes- preferrably purple/red ones)
Anything that comes out of the water (except tuna. Sometimes. Only prepared with a TINY amount of mayo)
Taters (except french fries, which I consider a vegetable...obviously)
Barbeque sauce
Mayo or Miracle Whip
Anything orange
Ramen noodles (no matter how broke I get I will NOT resort to ramen)
Any kind of casserole/hot dish
Soup (except chicken noodle- but no veggies)
Hot drinks (except semi cooled down hot chocolate)
Eggs (except scrambled eggs, slightly burned, but not the whites)
Cottage cheese
Most juices
Bananas (I know it's a fruit- but eating bananas is the same texture as stepping into dog poo)
Funky bread (which is anything aside from white or regular wheat)
Filled donuts
Chinese food (well I have one thing I'll order from there if I must)
Pork (pretty much anything from a pig is out)
Hot dogs (have you ever seen how those are made?!)
All condiments (except ketchup)
All dressings (except my specific french dressing...but I can be flexible on this if I must)
White sauces for pastas
Anything with alcohol in it (I don't drink, yall!)
Any candy flavored cherry or grape

Things Sara WILL eat:
French Dressing (but only the Lighthouse Sweet Red French kind)
Pickles (dill only, not those funky flavors. If I'm at a restaurant with good pickles, I order a side of them. In a bowl. Yum.)
Chicken (but not grilled in sandwiches. Grilled if I do it)
Chips (except BBQ, dill pickle, or other disgusting flavors)
Pretzels (I love pretzel rods, and I basically suck the salt off first. Now THERE is a visual for ya)
Jelly/Jam (only grape, strawberry-no seeds-, and apricot-only on english muffins)
Peanut Butter
Pizza (only with pepperoni, but I usually pick those all off anyways)
Butter (only if it's completely melted. I can't eat it if I see like unmelted butter)
Ice Cream (except strawberry or other fruity flavors)

Now as you can see, I'm barely surviving. Virtually nothing on my "will eat" list is healthy for you. Most people laugh at me. I'm a huge pain in the ass when I'm trying to figure out what to eat. Except I don't make people conform to me. Nope. I'm the freak, they shouldn't have to suffer. So if we go out to restaurants, I'm the one who is pissing the waitress of with the "hold the.." and then I add every ingredient off except for one or two. Like if I order a salad (when in a pinch) I say, "Hold everything except the lettuce and cucumbers". Snickers across the table ensue.

I have become fodder for people when it comes to food. One friend said I have like the OCD for food because nothing can touch. Everything has to be specific. I usually don't eat dinner because I make normal food for Matt & the kids.

The kicker? I like to cook. I'm a pretty good cook, actually. I like chopping, dicing, slicing, frying, baking, the whole bit. BUT...I usually don't eat what I make. I also can't taste try stuff to see if I'm fucking it up. I have to rely on Matt's "Don't make that again" or "Do we have some for lunch tomorrow?" That's how I know if it's good or not. I love watching Food Network.

And there is a reason why I don't eat the things above. I have a reason other than being picky. I am such a freak that I really can't even try stuff. I will gag like it is nobody's business. I've tried. I have been trying to do the Sneaky Chef route to sneak veggies in and I cannot eat it. I can't see it, but knowing it's there....can't do it.

Are you wondering about a specific food? Leave a comment and I will let you know. :)

Get Sketchy #22

I haven't done a Get Sketchy in...well...a very long time. BUT, I did one this week and so here it is:

Yay! A Valentine's Day card! Do I get bonus points for coordinating the sketch with a holiday?? No? Well whatevs. :)

Tuesday, January 26, 2010

More Bizarre Facts About Sara (also known as- requests from the freaks)

So what I've learned in the last week is that I have some bizarre people following my blog. Now, some comments I totally did NOT publish because the crazy level was a bit much even for me.

Imagine that.

But I did get some emails from people who will remain nameless who wanted to know the following questions

1. Where do I sleep.

2. What is on my nightstand.

3. My favorite part about being a girl.

Is it just me, or are these weird? But you know what- I don't back down from challenges, bizarre questions, etc NO MATTER WHAT. Keep that in mind for later lambs.

SO, without further anticipation:

1. Where Does Sara Sleep?

This may come as a shock, but I totally sleep in a bed. A super uncomfortable bed that we were forced to buy and I had absolutely no say in it. It actually was the only bed available in the Duluth/Superior area that had a box spring that was two pieces, thus allowing us to get it into our house. But I'm going to combine a post because Christina posted about her husband's pillow issues and I totally have my own. I have 4 pillows involved every night. One between my knees, two angled and one under my head. That way I feel snuggly. It drives Matt NUTS. I don't care- it's heaven I tell you. (Side note- can anybody tell me why someone would think I didn't sleep in a bed??)

2. What Is On Sara's Nightstand?

Well it's pretty blah. My bottom shelf is empty. The middle shelf is full of magazines I'm behind on. My top shelf are books I'm in the process of reading. The top of the table has my IKEA lamp, my Team Edward bottle (love you, Robert!), my basket of essential goodies (which is like my minty lip gloss, foot lotion, regular lotion, etc), and of course, Cosmo. This month it's about 99 Sex Moves. And if I had a better marriage, maybe I'd be using those. HA!)

3. What Is Sara's Favorite Part Of Being A Girl

Ok, I guess of all of these this was kind of creepy. But that's ok- I can deal with creepy. OK, so those are my feet obviously. Which I'm going to combine this question with the answer AND a huge issue of mine. (This is where I'm letting a little of the crazy out). I take huge pride in my feet. I keep them soft, toes painted, in good shape. It's a big deal to me. Because feet? Gross me out. All three of my boyfriends have had to show me their feet after the first week of dating. Because if you aren't taking care of your feet, yuck. Seriously- it freaks me out. I don't need model feet- just clean, toenails clean and trim.

I have been known to point out gross feet while shopping in the summer. And if you have nasty feet- DO NOT WEAR SANDALS. If your toes look like alien toes (and by that I mean like they have built in suction cups to them) DO NOT WEAR SANDALS. If you haven't trimmed your nails and they are super long or the opposite where a beaver looks like it's gnawed your toenail? DO NOT WEAR SANDALS.

I have a thing about painting my toes. I do all different colors but my favorite? Is what I call "Fuck Me Red". It's the PERFECT shade of red. It's not trailer trash red, it's not the deep scarlet "I could be a paid escort" red- it's in the middle. Love it. When I wear it (like now) I feel sexy.

Other thing about my feet I kind of like, ok love? Are my freckles. The foot on the left side of the picture has a little freckle next between my two little toes. It's like a beauty mark on my foot. Loves it. I've had people admire my feet. I look super cute in sandals and in heels. I can rock flip flops like it's nobody's business. I once had a guy touch my foot in a restaurant because he was like obsessed with them. THAT was weird, but you know- they are adorable. The picture does not do them justice.

OK- so your homework. Ask me questions. Anything goes. Nothing is off limits. Your name will not be shared if you don't want to. Leave a comment to this post by Friday, January 29. I'll compile answers for a Sunday or Monday post. If you want to email me privately- shoot it to: Seriously lambs- make them good. ;)

And as I'd say in high school-

Afros & Axl Rose- huzzah!

Monday, January 25, 2010

What happens when you combine a soccer ball, a kid named Chucky Wuolu, and Sara??

So last week I read a post by one of my favorite bloggers, Sebastian about gym class. Now I can go on for literally days about my gym class horrors and what I would classify as child abuse. I mean, really. But one particular story stands out and that would be 10th grade. In 9th grade I got out of a lot of stuff because I was hanging with a bunch of girls who, like me, were really unathletic. Like, I could run- only if a dog was chasing me. And organized sports like baseball and shit? Yah, I don't understand what I'm supposed to do so I'll just stand and be cute in the field. As long as I pass I really don't care.

In 10th grade I got stuck in the gym class from hell which consisted of boys (all ages) who were all on school sports and the girls who were ubber athletic. So clearly, I didn't fit in. And we were all led by a bitch of a teacher, Mrs. Fernjack.

So it's spring and we're outside playing organized soccer. Somehow I got assigned a position that not only required me to run (a lot) but required me to kick the ball in an organized fashion to someone on my team. And I got stationed 3 feet from the goalie. Chucky Wuolu (pronounced woo-loo) who I think, played soccer for the school. He was supposed to GENTLY tap the ball to me, I run and kick at the same time. Got it.

Yeah, well that asshole kicked AS HARD AS HE COULD, at my face. So instead of ducking, or running away like a normal person...I stand there, and hold my left hand up thinking that will save me.

I then feel really warm on my face and think no big. Until I realized my white shirt is covered in blood and Mrs. Fernjack is screaming at me to run. I don't know about you, but unless I've just been shot with a gun, I'm not running anywhere while bleeding. I attempt to walk off the field to the nurse's office but am told to stop being a baby. As I'm gushing blood. Thank god a senior cheerleader had some brains (shocker) and takes me to the office. The nurse then calls my mom to say I have a "minor nose bleed". Yeah, I'm gushing blood. I'm not vomiting blood because I've swallowed some. When my mom gets me she is all like, "Holy shit! What happened?!" so I go through the story and I go home. I can't use my left hand which is weird and my face hurts.

My step dad takes me to the doctor where it is determined while I didn't break my hand I've damanged it. So I have a weird bump on there where it healed wrong. And my nose? Broken. THANKFULLY it was a clean head on break so my nose didn't get bent or weird looking.

Chucky Wuolu? Nothing happened to him. Ass.

But let's face forward 4 years, shall we? I wake up at the end of my first year in college with pain in my mouth like I have never had before. I look in the mirror and am like, "Holy fuck!!!" because my face has tripled in size on side. I go to the dentist and I get two root canals. And if you knew me in real life you'll know I am a freak about teeth cleanliness and the thought of getting root canals when I haven't had cavities in years? Not ok.

Fast forward the entire summer. After 4 attempts at root canals, my face keeps puffing up. I'm a freak. I go to an oral surgeon. Well, it seems that my nose breaking incident is coming back. Parts of nose bone broke off into my sinus, causing infection which was now so huge that I was risking blindness if it ruptured. I had surgery less than a week later on my sinus. Basically they went through my mouth (I have a scar on the roof of my mouth and along my gum line) to clean out my sinus, remove the roots of my teeth, replace those with metal rods and close off my sinus completely. It was painful. To say the least. I had a horrible recovery, I have residual pain in my sinus and my teeth have never been the same.

So about 2 years ago I had a toothache in one of those teeth that had the rods. Which I shouldn't since hello- no roots, nothing above it to store yucky stuff. Turns out one of my molars had to be pulled since the wrong rods were used. I went to my dentist who couldn't do it. He referred me to a root canal specialist. Who couldn't pull the tooth OR the rods. I'm talking feet on the chair pulling with both arms until I felt all of my teeth were going to come out. So then I had to get knocked out completely since we discovered that novacaine and all the other "caines" don't work on me anymore which...fabulous.

So the tooth got pulled. The pain afterwards? Tremendous. Fast forward to a month ago. My dentist tells me that the other tooth? Needs a crown otherwise it gets pulled. Oh. My. God. So today? I go to get a crown. And guess what doesn't work? Novacaine. So about 10 minutes into the procedure the pain is getting worse, and worse, and worse until I break the plastic cover of my iPod. Broke it from squeezing, folks. I managed to get through it and as you can imagine, my face hurts so bad.

Matt is refusing to run to Target to get me super duper strength anything to help. He got me a shake that is so thick I can't suck it. (Wow, that sounded horrible). It's like all I want, is someone to get me heat and ice packs. Someone to rub my feet so I can ignore the pain in my face. And god dammit, if someone could just kick Chucky Wuolu's ass from here until the next decade I would love it. Because Chucky? I hate you. I hate you for being such a fucking short, pudgy asshole bastard son of a bitch. Because of him and his fucking punk ass I am continuing to deal with the aftermath. My dentist loves it as I see he's driving a Lexus SUV but dang. I'd like to have no more problems. Seriously, I feel like finding black market Percocet or something. But in the meantime, I'm going to read blogs and catch up on email. I need more email buddies. ;)

Sunday, January 24, 2010

Beautiful Blogger- 7 tidbits about me

This is kind of a bizarre award seeing how yesterday's post was about my weight and fresh out of bed face. I don't know if that means Krysten from "After 'I Do'" needs glasses or is delusional, but either way- thank you, Krysten! :)

So with any award there are rules. I have to list 7 things about me and pass this onto another blogger. Now my first inclination was to write things that would be borderline TMI. Which is what I'm doing because as you all know, my gut has never failed me. Well, except for the time that I thought kayaking was going to be awesome. But, if you are a family member or you feel like you don't need to know a lot of bizarre and personal stuff about me---STOP READING NOW. You've been warned. :)

1. I lost my virginity at age 17 to a guy who told me he was a virgin (which he totally wasn't in hindsight) to Nine Inch Nails' "The Great Below". It was October, and it lasted literally, not even 5 minutes because his brother knocked on the door. Nice. The bad experiences with him, my rebound, and Matt have all made me somewhat of an insecure prude in this area. Which is a shame, because it's not what I want to be. BUT, I once had sex in a park. At night. Where there is now a skate park. ;)

2. I have only had 2 major relationships (first being guy in #1 and the second being Matt) and one 2 week rebound that was a nightmare and got me a crazy ex-girlfriend stalker for awhile. Not my proudest moment.

3. My son, Jackson, is what we'd call an "oopsy" baby. Matt and I were trying for baby #2, but then all shit hit the fan and the same week I was consulting a divorce attorney I found out I was almost 3 months pregnant. Fast forward to now and I still don't know if I made the right decision.

4. When I was growing up I really wanted to either be a geologist, astronomer or a DJ. The first two apparently require a lot of math (which I suck at) and it's not like you see those jobs just floating in the paper. I didn't go to be a DJ because everybody told me that girls can't be DJ's and so I went to school to be a....secretary!...

5. ...which is ok because as all the people who know me in real life know that I'm a little OCD. Like not enough OCD to need medication and/or counseling, but enough to drive some people nuts. I like organizing, which is 90% of a secretary's job, and I like office supplies. Going to an office supply store is like going to a computer, hardware, or sex toy store for men.

6. I am a sucker for romance. Like major sucker. How I ended up with Matt who's idea of romance is moving my car to the other side of the street so I don't get a ticket, is beyond me. He had potential, I tell you. I totally failed. And part of me thinks that maybe Matt is as good as it gets. I mean, he does clean up pee, poop, and puke because I am completely incapable of it. And what happens if Matt and I separate? Are there really guys out there that are romantic? That actually adore their significant other? And show it? Probably not. But I'm still a sucker for it.

7. I think that the coolest thing EVER is mix cd's. I love getting mix cd's from people (in the mail because I love mail). I love listening to them especially if I know why these particular songs were put together in a cd for me. But I love music, so pretty much anything music related given to me will make me a loyal and dedicated friend. :)

*BONUS* (because I? Am fabulous like are some that are more TMI)

1. Love watching porn with a guy. Like a guy I'm in a relationship with, obviously.

2. I keep my hair short so I give it the "just had a little romp in the bed" look.

3. I've kissed a girl. Twice. With tongue.

4. Would love to wear hooker boots. Just once.

5. Prefer to have sex with music. Varying from slow to fast songs.

6. Never had a one night stand but always wanted to. Just once. Safely. Obviously.

7. Ponder the merits of having an "open marriage" frequently.

OK- enough yet? :) If you missed an early post of questions I got from a fellow blogger, click HERE. If you have questions you'd like me to answer either comment here or shoot me an email at: I'll make a post in the future with the Q & A's and if you don't want your name mentioned, LET ME KNOW otherwise it'll be out there. ;)

So to pass it this onto another blogger. Hmmm.. I have so many that I love but because Mr. O passed an award onto me this week, I'm going to in return pass one on to him.


Saturday, January 23, 2010

Sara: The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly

Well this post is going to have pictures, yall! I know. I want you to know that I went through a multitude of batteries on a self portrait photo shoot which yielded less than 5 pictures that I would ever circulate the blogosphere. I suck at taking my own picture and I usually look like ass in pictures in general. I do, and I can't help it. I am not America's Top Model material and for that be grateful I don't do this often.

So let's start with the good, shall we?

Me, posing today in front of our ghetto neighborhood. Sorry I didn't do jazz hands.Folks, I am officially a grown up! If you know me in real life, or at least follow me on FaceBook you will know that I haven't owned a real winter jacket since I was about 16. And if you want to get technical, as of March 10 this year that will be exactly 12 years ago. Because that is when my mom last bought me one. So I have bitched about the lack of a real winter jacket for 12 years and have done nothing about it. I don't know if I was hoping the winter jacket fairy would come, but she hasn't so that has forced me to take matters into my own hands.

(Which is code for I found a sale and they had one...only one jacket that was chocolate brown left in my size. For $35, normally $280. And my mom was so proud of me. She was there, and was all like, "It's about time, Sara" but I think she was proud. Her little girl is getting so big..)

AND..(if you have a history of heart problems and/or defects- please stop reading here. I will not be held responsible for your death) I bought winter boots. I haven't had winter boots since third grade and I didn't wear them either. (Sorry mom, Travis and I would take those off in the bus as soon as we got on. It's really uncool to have boots. And snowpants. Sorry you wasted the money..)

I bought the boots the same day (but earlier) and they are chocolate brown with fur! They actually are warm but don't go any higher than my ankle. Which Matt tells me will be useless in the event I have to walk where snow has not been shoveled. But whatevs. Fashion stops at nothing, and they are better than high heels. It's not like I'm doing outside activities anyways.


Now because I'm an idiot and didn't write it down, I found a ton of blogs this week that had pictures of ladies when they first wakeup, no makeup, nothing. Well since Matt goes to work at 3:30 in the morning and I get up, for real, at 6 am- it only takes me 30 minutes to get me and two kids ready. So this is me. In the morning, fresh out of bed. Thank god that nature has blessed me with decent enough skin to not be a Proactiv commercial. My bags aren't huge under my eyes considering this was taken on Monday. This would be the "raw" portion of my post. I would say this is what Matt wakes up to every morning, but when he gets up I roll over and continue with my slumbers.


God- I really couldn't even take a picture of this because it is so bad. Do you remember waaaaaay back when I posted my weight on here? You know, that brief moment in time when I went bat shit crazy? OK, well I'm totally doing it again. It is....


At least it's lower!! If I did my math correctly it's 4.4 lower! And I feel fatter. Please explain this cosmo bullshit because I? Am starving. I'm so hungry I could eat a child.

Save the kids!

I mean really, they are so cute. At least they were yesterday (which is when I took this) because today? The tantrums are unbearable and I've got a headache.

Since I'm essentially a lazy person I really don't enjoy exercising. At all. And I never really had to until I had kids because I was all thinner, I still have no idea what it's like to buy pants in the single digits, but I was at my skinniest when working at Dairy Queen and then Culver's. Go figure.

But since I'm so lazy and it's all cold, snowy, and now icy outside, I can't really walk outside. So right now, until I purchase a treadmill, my only weight loss options are bulimia and anorexia. Now, anorexia is probably the least amount of work since you literally do nothing. Except that I do get hungry and I have cravings like a 9 month pregnant woman all of the time. Baby onboard or not. (which was FABULOUS when I was pregnant because I was able to convince Matt to drive to places at all hours of the night to satisfy these. He has since stopped doing this which is lame). So then that leaves me bulimia. Which, disgusting. I don't think anyone can throw up gracefully and I hate throwing up. The whole process and mental pictures of my insides revolting just make it infinitely worse. And then I remember the time I was 6 months pregnant with Olivia, had Matt get me the biggest bucket of popcorn from the movie theatre (he went and got it so I could eat it at home), literally ate it all in 20 minutes and 10 minutes later puked the entire thing up. If you've ever puked popcorn you can appreciate it. Can't eat popcorn to this day.

Which hey- TMI! So bulimia is out. Obviously. What am I doing? Smaller portions. I had 5 almonds for breakfast and stared longingly at the bag of spicy nacho doritos. Oh, I just want to eat you up. But I can't. Because I am a fat ass desperate to get smaller. I refuse to buy clothes in the fat girl store. I will not do it. I will not do it. I'll go bulimic before that happens.

Friday, January 22, 2010

Accolades and Scooters

I have a "raw" post coming for you tomorrow so in order for me to work on that I'm doing a quickie post this evening. (and because you might not get it..."raw" a clue yall! Super sleuths!)

(Folks, this is code for: I'm tired, I want to read, I have no clean socks for tomorrow and we are on the verge of eating bread taco sauce for dinner tomorrow because I haven't grocery shopped in two weeks).
So Mr. O from A Rush of Blog to the Head is awesome. I heart him. I follow him, if we lived closer I'd make him my concert buddy even if I had to hold him hostage. He's just so damn cute I could pinch his cheeks. But more importantly, he has incredible taste in music AND he's given me an award. Which is more than I can say for my husband. He gives me dirty laundry and has annoying habits that are driving me more and more nuts.
YAY!! Are you clapping? You need to clap because I've had a long day and am facing the plight of grocery shopping and I think we all remember what happened last time. But I think am getting this award because I comment on his blog all of the time because he? Is what I was hoping I could mold my hubby into. Obviously, that didn't work. And if we are being really honest here- Matt? My hubby? Doesn't really care for music. No, he listens to ultra conservative talk radio now. I KNOW. I'm like APPALLED at this. This is why we don't let him drive anywhere. And if we do, I have ultimate control over what we listen to. I'd rather have my children listen to Ke$ha over Lew Latto. Good god.
So I have to name 5 people that I think should get this. And it's hard, it really is. I just love everybody and I hate choosing. (Well, that's really a lie. I like choices and choosing especially if I think I'll get my way. ) SO..
First and foremost- my girl Jandy
Sara at Handy Hooker
Danielle at Keepin' It Real
Sebby (even though he laughs at my dream of having a real garden gnome)

These are blogs that I enjoy reading. They are usually at the top of my reading list. Well, after Mr. O, of course.
AND, guess what I forgot that I had on my computer waiting to share! This fantastic picture of a scooter trailer! I had NO idea these things existed. I took this, while driving 88 mph, just outside of Forest Lake I think. Which is by the Twin Cities in Minnesota if you still have no idea where that is or mildly curious where my travels take me. I think it was on our way to see Paramore, but that doesn't matter. But this person is so bad ass to not only own a blue scooter with MIRRORS on it, but they have a fancy pants trailer to bring it everywhere. That, my the American Dream. :)

Now I'm grocery shopping. If I never post again, start checking the Duluth News Tribune for articles related to a Superior woman losing her shit in Super One. Assume that is me.

Thursday, January 21, 2010

Roadkill. It's what's for dinner.

Let's just get two facts out of the way before I even start this post which is likely to make you vomit. A little. Or a lot if you are anything like me.

1. I? Am a city girl. I'm originally from Florida so I know what living urban means. I don't like wild animals unless they are in a zoo with tranquilizers handy in case they get a little frisky. I don't eat "wild" meat, meaning if it hasn't been injected with dyes and water and comes in cellophane from the grocery store I won't eat it. I don't eat fresh vegetables, fruits, etc. Actually I don't eat those anyways unless you count frozen corn and purple grapes. (No, they aren't red...they are clearly purple). Oh and lettuce. But that is a whole other post. I don't like bugs, I like neighbors and traffic, even neighborhood drug dealers.

2. Matt, my husband, is country. And I say that with love. Really, I do. I didn't understand how "country" he was until we had been dating awhile, but I figured this was something I could overlook. His parents live way out in the country, or as his brother Karl would say, "between butt fuck nowhere and na-ner-ner-ner" (insert annoying country song here). Which is actually accurate. His dad works for the DNR (and if you have no idea what that is, it's the Department of Natural Resources so this is obviously working with and for wildlife). They own guns. They eat "wild" meat and have a garden, and think nothing of shooting animals on property, etc.

Matt and I. First picture together- January 2002. Aw...So yesterday I was catching up on my blogs and I found a new one that I am loving, My Masonic Apron. Well anyways he posted about roadkill which triggered a memory I had of a conversation Matt and I had years ago. About roadkill.

You see back in the day, Matt had a little red pickup truck. And one day, he hit a deer on his way home. He didn't run it over, it apparently hit him, and like hobbled off to the side and collapsed. So if this were me, not only would I slam on my breaks to avoid hitting Bambi, but if I did hit Bambi I would literally stop the car and proceed with the crying and screaming. I would never get out of the car. What if it attacked me like it's going all Animals Gone Wild or some shit?? Yeah, no.

So Matt, being country, gets out of the truck. Grabs a tire iron and proceeds to beat the animal in the head until it dies. I know. And to think I had KIDS with Bambi's murderer. But instead of just leaving the damn thing to die with little to no dignity, he wiggles the legs a bit to see if it's still good or something, and then puts it in his truck because as he said, "It was still warm". FUCK. NO. YOU. DIDN'T. Oh, but he did.

He then proceeds to drive it home (his parents house at the time) hang the disgusting carcass from a tree so that it could do whatever it is dead animals do while hanging upside down from a tree. His dad, not concerned that Matt brought home a dead animal, is more concerned that he didn't get called first.

So then they eat it. I fucking kid you not, dead Bambi was eaten for dinner. I thought Matt lied, but no, it was confirmed by his brother Karl. And not only that but Karl tells me this is like normal. NORMAL!! I know. I'm gagging too. And Karl tells me they've done this before. It's like suddenly, I'm surrounded by cannibals. I mean, that's kind of what it feels like. Just the thought that maybe I'm getting tricked into eating something weird at their house is why I never eat. I'm such a picky eater but if I ate something to find out later, or even think, I ate something weird. Instant bulimia then anorexia. I am not kidding.

So, what are you having for dinner?

Wednesday, January 20, 2010

Book Review: THE LATE, LAMENTED MOLLY MARX by Sally Koslow

Book review time! So this past weekend I actually got two books read, both of which I'll review for you, but this is the first one.

Somehow I have managed to snag, I kid you not, 5 books in the last month that have either a Jewish theme or a bunch of Jewish characters. Is this a sign? I'm not sure.
But this book was interesting. Best book ever? No. Good read? Sure. I can't remember where I heard of it, but I think it was from Jen Lancaster's summer reading list. But I can't be sure. All I know is that this was on my to-read post it note and I can now throw that note away. :)
So this book is about Molly Marx who you learn right away is dead. It's interesting because while she's learning the ropes about being dead she can watch in on her friends, family and daughter from above. Not only does she now have a blatant "bull shit detector" but she can read minds basically. How she dies is evident- it was a biking accident but she doesn't know how it happened. Or doesn't remember. So while she's looking down she's trying to figure out what happened to her.
You learn about her slut husband who cheats on her basically from the word go, how she gave birth alone, how she falls in love with another man but feels guilty, and ultimately- how she died. It was interesting. It wasn't one of those books that I had a hard time putting down, but it was one that would be interesting for a book club.
I was fascinated because although her husband cheats on her, she doesn't/won't leave him. Even though she falls in love with another man and has an affair with him. It's relatable in the way that you feel how she is torn between these two men. It's not that her husband is abusive, but he just can't keep it in his pants. But the other man well, he loves her. Passionately. And I think that if it were me, I might struggle with that too.
So if you are looking for something that isn't super heavy but just a fun read- this is a good choice.

Monday, January 18, 2010

Really? You really couldn't find anything better??

Let's be clear that I am all for saving a buck. Especially on non-essential items that yeah, you really want it but no, you don't really need it.

But this? Hi. You need seat covers. And although I took this picture in the Target parking lot in October...I hope this guy had a better plan for the winter. Because sitting on stretched out trash bags in the middle of winter PROBABLY isn't going to work out so well. And I don't know if you can tell but he has totally removed his back seat. Like it was gone. So was his other side mirror, both front and back bumpers and there were no discernable lights on the vehicle. AND, he had two donut tires. Who the fuck even owns two donut tires??

And it just begs the question- really? You couldn't find ANYTHING better? You are shopping at Target which is not always the least expensive option since Walmart is literally right next door and Kmart on the other side. Seriously. How pimping was this car??

Sunday, January 17, 2010

Book Review: SHIVER by Maggie Stiefvater

I am not going to pussy foot around this at all. This book is AMAZING.
The quick and dirty of this book is that it's set in Minnesota and is about the wolves that roam Mercy Falls. People get bitten, it's weird, but only one survived. Grace. Grace is obsessed with the wolves but mostly one in particular. They watch each other. Then one day the wolf is temporarily a human. And oh my god- one of the BEST love stories. Seriously. I can't even give this book enough praise. I finished it in under 7 hours and it was the best 7 hours I've had in quite a long time. The descriptions of the characters emotions is spot on. You feel like this is really happening to you. Like you are Grace. I love how the chapters bounce back and forth between Grace and Sam's perspectives. It's like you always know what they are thinking. And feeling. It's amazing. And I am not going to lie- I started crying. Like hysterically crying at the end. SO, if you happen to get this book, do not read it before you get your period. Because it will make you a mess. And then I get all mad at Matt because he isn't this guy. *sigh*. Eventually I might realize that the guys in these books aren't real. But maybe they are and I just don't know it yet!!
Right. So you should read the book. It's so worth it. This is definitely an author to look out for because she did a GREAT job on this book. What I also love about Maggie (and here I'm talking like we're besties..HA!) is that her website for the book has a pop out player with songs that were written for and inspired by Shiver. You know what that means? Fabulous music. My favorite. Go HERE if you want to read more about the book, listen to the music, etc.

Thursday, January 14, 2010

Book Review: This Is Your Brain In Love by Dr. Earl Henslin

Another book review! And let me just start by saying I finished this book about two weeks ago but have been so wrapped up in reading the Mortal Instruments, Shiver (review coming soon), and now the Vampire Diaries. I think my kids still live with me. I can't be sure. I feel like I haven't seen anyone in days.

This book was actually a fascinating read. Again, I'm not one for self help books because I get confused and then forget what I just read and if I do remember never actually apply it because I'm too lazy. You know?

You know.

But did you know that when you fall in love it's like the same brain chemical reaction as if you were on drugs? Which kind of explains the dating reality shows and you always think, "Shit- are these people on drugs?" Well, kind of.

I really liked reading the book because it really covered all kinds of people. Throughout the book it touches on the different kinds of lovers in relationship and how ADD plays a part in it. AND? I totally diagnosed my husband with Limbic ADD. You can imagine how thrilled he is. But the symptoms of that are: negativity, low energy, low self-esteem, irritability, social isolation, and poor appetite and sleep patterns. For the few of you who might know my husband- you are probably laughing hysterically because this? This is Matt. Like if I had to come up with a list- that would be it. Granted, the low energy and irritability is probably from working at least 10 hour work days, but still. He's Mr. Negative who never wants to do anything that involves people. And if you are asking how we got together- I don't know either. I've also decided he is a Blue Mood Lover. The book provides tips on how I can make him happier. Well, I might do some. But they require work and frankly, I don't think it's my job to make him a happy camper.

But I bet you are all just DYING to know what kind of lover I am. Aren't you??


But because you have read this long, I would be the Over Focused Lover. (Stop laughing). The signs of this?

  • Excessive or senseless worrying
  • Upset when things don't go your way
  • Upset when things are out of place
  • Tendency to be oppositional or argumentative
  • Tendency to have repetitive negative thoughts
  • Tendency to compulsive behaviors
  • Intense dislike for change
  • Tendency to hold grudges
  • Trouble shifting attention from task to task
  • Difficulties seeing options in situations
  • Tendency to hold onto own opinion and not listen to others
  • Needing to have things done a certain way otherwise you become upset

My favorite part about this? It specifically tells me to eat carbs. Which is great because that's really the only food group I prefer to eat. Carbs, baby! Matt was in no way interested in reading the tips he is supposed to do to make me happier, so we're even. But can I say how eerie this was? How dead on it was??

Anyhoodle. This book was a really fun read. It was educational for one, but all of the science behind it was explained thoroughly and it's written as if you were speaking to the author. As if you were in for an appointment with the doctor. The tests (there are 5) in the book are quick and it's amazing how an injury to your head, no matter how minor it was, can really affect how your brain operates in general.

Monday, January 11, 2010

I? Am not your ma'am. Punk.

By now you should know how much I hate to shop for groceries. It's not so much the shopping as it is the aftermath. And living in Superior we are limited to one change of grocery store, which is fine. In Duluth I have a few other options but the thought of driving to Duluth to grocery shop seems like a waste when I can get the exact same stuff in Superior and really? I can't see that experience would be any better.

(If you follow me on FaceBook you will have already heard about this. And if you don't follow me- you should. Otherwise you are kind of a loser.)

But on New Year's Eve I had to go. Like I had to. We had nothing. I couldn't even scrap enough stuff to make a ghetto meal the next day. When Matt is telling you we are bare bones you know the situation is critical. So I went out at about 7pm. Since we are particularly broke lately I was making it a short trip, 15 items, hopefully under $30.

I made it through the store with little incident but it was the check out line that set me over the edge. There was a young girl in front of me, maybe only a few years younger than me taking FOREVER with her food stamps. Then her WIC thingies. Then she had a gift card. And oh wait, she had a coupon. And oh my god- her pen doesn't work. And oh man, the card swiper thing is wrong- haha- she was swiping it wrong. You get the picture. 20 minutes it took this bitch to check out.

It's my turn, and the kid (with a serious acne problem. Looks maybe 16 years old) is dumb. Like is having a hard time ringing up produce. Like buddy- it's one fucking cucumber at .59. How hard is your job?

And at the end?

(wait for it)

He says, "Have a nice night. Ma'am."

Oh. No. He. Didn't.

He did not just call me ma'am. Fucking a! I am not even 28 years old. I'm technically not even on the cusp of 28, but he's calling me ma'am. This?? Should not be happening to me. Why don't you ask to see my AARP card while you are at it?

So I am leaving in a huff. So much so that I realize their bags still suck and I have to double bag everything. Cheap bastards.

On my way out wearing a cute pair of heels (it's snowed recently, and there is a crappy and chunky layer of ice everywhere. Heels maybe wasn't the smartest choice but hey- handy weapon) there is a guy on the bench outside of the door.

Please note that behind the grocery store is a huge field and then beyond that are the railroad tracks. This translates to the grocery store field being a mecca for homeless people. And not always nice ones who are just cool about being homeless. (And by this I mean those assholes asking for help or donations while standing near a business with a "help wanted" sign clearly posted).

So this guy, old, dirty, and scary looking says to me, "Hey honey. Are you looking for a friend tonight?" To which I replied (and I realize now that maybe it wasn't the smartest thing to even say anything, but I think we're all familiar with my inability to shut up), "Um, what made you think I needed a friend? Because I don't. I want to go home. And eat one of my crappy cans of soup. And because crackers were on sale, I'm going to eat one of those too. Get a better pimp."

Now please know by now another guy has come out with his bags and the kid that collects carts. Both of them look at me, then laugh. Which in hindsight, I'm glad other people were there, because I totally *get* how maybe I shouldn't mouth off to someone who may or may not be mentally sane. And honestly? I probably shouldn't have said anything about my food. But let's be clear that I donate regularly to all of the local area food shelves. And I give money. So nobody can say I'm heartless or ungrateful.

Anyways. Don't ever ma'am me. Seriously. I am not old. If I lost weight I'd be a hot bitch. Emphasis on bitch. And I'm ok with that.

Saturday, January 9, 2010

Book Review (kind of) The Mortal Instruments by Cassandra Clare

I think we know and remember how much I love me some unrealistic men. (that would be HERE, HERE, HERE, and HERE.) Some might think this would be an unhealthy obsession because the likelihood of finding a man that incredibly gorgeous AND attainable is impossible. But I totally agree because Matt? Is nothing like any of them. *sigh*. Don't think I haven't tried to fix that, he seems to be untrainable.

But a friend from high school named Sam posted on my Facebook a week ago about how fabulous the book series, The Mortal Instruments were and maybe because of my never ending ranting and raving about True Blood, Robert and my apparently unhealthy obsession with these prompted her to think I need another obsession. And damn you it worked because I? Am in love with Jace Lightwood. Forget he's 17. I'm sure he's at least 19 by now if this were real life. And that would make me kind of cougar right, if I'm almost 28?? No? Well whatever. It'd still be hot.

The books are wonderful. I bought the first one and my husband immediately said, "Well I guess I'll be seeing you somtime" as he proceeded to feed our kids dry cereal for supper. And I? Was totally ok with that because within the first chapter I am madly in love with Jace. Damn you Cassandra Clare for making me believe through 2 1/2 books that secret you wrote! Damn you. I almost passed out. Seriously, I should for fun have my blood pressure periodically checked during reading books such as these. I'd be off the charts. But it's worth it.

And I kid you not- if a super hot guy came to me, all saving me and shit- I would leave Matt for hunky guy. Because I? Have always wanted that really. Well, not to be in a situation where I'd need to be saved. Obviously. But a guy that is so devoted to you. Like you are it- the world and everything in it. Some women would be overwhelmed with that. But I wouldn't. I think I'd thrive in that. I know Matt loves me but dang. Not like that. Not ever. It isn't realistic to think that exists or if it did that I'd ever find it. But dang- that's what dreams are for. Right?

Tuesday, January 5, 2010

Cleaner For Hire...Child Labor or Smart Business?

For Christmas we (and by we I obviously mean Santa) got Jackson a vacuum cleaner. He is really obsessed with cleaning and when on our vacation in October, my cousins had a toy vacuum. He tried putting it in our suitcase.
Throughout the vacation Jackson impressed everyone with his mad cleaning skills. He dusted daily for my grandparents and not only moved the things on the table to dust, he put everything back.
He loves to Swiffer, he loves my mom's sweeper vac thing and will clean her floors until the batteries die. He totes a squirt bottle of water almost everywhere with an towel to clean up after all of us.
So here is him with part of his new vacuum. It has a detachable dust buster thing. Clever.
I think he'd prefer our real vacuum since that one will suck up stuff and he gets PISSED OFF when this one just won't clean the floor like he wants it to.
So do I rent him out? Do I keep this gem to myself? I mean, I hope this is a compulsion he keeps forever. Not only for my own sanity but for the health of Matt and Olivia. Because I think they all get a bit sick of hearing me bitch about the disaster we call a living room. Or the disgustinging room we call a "laundry room/second bathroom" (which is code for a toilet plopped in front of the washing machine. We also have no ceiling in there. And one wall is pretty much demolished. But that's another post entirely).
But Jackon is at his happiest when he's eating things he shouldn't (markers, crayons, play doh and various other art supplies) but cleaning is the next best option. He'd clean all day if he could.

Monday, January 4, 2010

Remember how I scrapbook?

But you probably wouldn't remember that because it's been pretty much forever since I posted anything. But I assure you, I have been productive.
Kind of.
This weekend I got to scrapbook with Jen, whom I adore because hello? We have similar spouses. And we have kids around the same age. And we live down the street from each other. And our husbands were whores before us.


So we used to have a standing Friday or Saturday night date where we'd scrap, eat ice cream, lie about eating the ice cream, talk smack about our significant others, complain about our kids, gossip about other bitches, etc. It's fun.

I promise.

But we haven't done that in FOREVER. Seriously. Who knew that kids would get sick, our significant others would be losers, we'd get sick, we'd be busy, then mother effing Xmas comes along. Whatevs. But this weekend? We had a great date.

Never mind that I also introduced her to TrueBlood and the hotness of Vampire Bill. (She hasn't met Eric yet...yumola)
Anyways. I got a bunch of stuff done- 4 pages and a shitload of cards. I'll post page pictures for you. And I promise to write something better tomorrow. :)