thoughts... i think

2010-02-10T14:36:00.000-08:00

let's hear it for the banana

consider the banana. i hate bananas. they stink, they taste bad, their texture bothers me and if you put one in a garbage can (bonus if it has a coffee filter in it), your garbage will smell extra garbage-y.

despite these feelings, i have found myself a fan of the banana. not because i ever want to eat one ever, but because of their usefulness. a banana is the friend of the mother. with quiet dignity, it has become an indispensable companion, a constant on the grocery list. if i need a snack for naomi, it's there. broken in half, naomi happily walks around with the fruit clutched in her two fists. if i need a snack for the road, it's self-contained and yet easy to access. i'd rather die than have the peel stinking up my car, but i can throw the peel out the window and know that it will, invariably, be digested quickly by the earth. (this might be littering, a practice that i'm firmly against. i don't know though. it is natural...is it littering to pour a pot of burned popcorn into the bushes? if so, i may be a litterer). Best of all, it's a food that naomi views as a treat and i can give her without a moment's feeling of guilt. yes banana, you old stinky thing, you are a good friend.

but don't you ever, ever make me smell you.

2010-02-01T12:27:00.001-08:00

my baby, the sailor

one of the more unsettling things about naomi learning to speak is the occasional misspeak. It started early. one of her first words was "clock" which she said in a very confident way while indicating to my alarm clock. the trouble is, she doesn't say the L. Which makes what should be an innocuous word into a rather offensive one.

this was early on and her vocabulary has grown by leaps and bounds since then. most of what she says, is pretty easy to understand. This is why i was just about knocked over when i heard her, from her car seat, chanting over and over, "you suck! you suck!" Seriously, for about 10 minutes. i was developing a complex. Does my child think i suck? do i actually suck? is that merely the sound of my psyche trying to whittle away my confidence? all upsetting thought and i've yet to come up with a good answer.

but then yesterday happened. As is our custom, naomi watches Yo Gabba Gabba while i make dinner. but we were having leftovers, so i was plopped on the couch with naomi next to me and matt on the other side, making a lovely portrait of a happy family. the show started, dj lance's trademark shoes crossed the screen and naomi said,simply and clearly, "f***."

matt and i both turned to each other to confirm that we had heard correctly. the looks of horror that we were each greeted with confirmed our suspicions. Oh. My. Word.

now the good news is, she only said it that once and maybe she was trying to say "foot." only she can say foot and does so well. so what the *bleep* just happened?

the world may never know.

2010-01-21T17:58:00.000-08:00

this morning i had a very respectable breakfast of Fiber One yogurt (a mere 50 calories and yep, i'm an old person) and some homemade granola. i even swigged a big glass of benefiber (again, old person. i've actually begun concerning myself with getting the recommended daily allowance of fiber. 25 grams, harder than you'd think). it was downright admirable.

then matt and i went to lunch. i had chili cheese fries, a hot dog, and then we went to yogurt mountain (not the good for you, old person type of yogurt either). I had about a teaspoon of yogurt and approximately five bars worth of crushed snickers.

i later caught my stomach trying to check me into a psychiatric hospital.

naomi got a stuffed toodee doll for christmas from my brother chris. it sings and makes noise and it frightened her. she's since gotten over the fear (her yo gabba gabba obsession at an all time high) and rather loves toodee. which probably explains why she rolled the plush toy through a plate of ham today.

i would like to bring to your attention something that's been bothering me lately. thanks to the wonders of dvr, we usually have at our disposal an army of sesame street shows, some from the current season and some from seasons past. naomi's pretty much only interested in elmo's world, so it is from there that i draw my complaint. this is the elmo of seasons past:

wait, hold everything. while trying to find the pictures i was seeking i found this instead. elmo has, apparently, taken an interest in dogs. as dinner. this is horrible:

gosh, my little witty observation is nothing compared to that. frankly, that picture is taken the wind out of my sails. i'm done.

2010-01-20T20:08:00.000-08:00

clean

i finally swept the kitchen today and ended up washing the floor on my hands and knees. our swiffer wet cloths have been so neglected under the sink that they are basically swiffer sort-of-damps and have been rendered totally ineffective. so i busted out some rags and a counter spray that i don't like very much and cleaned the floor by hand.

at the same time, two ugly stepsisters had a music lesson upstairs and i dueted with my bubble reflection. BOOYAH! classic animated feature disney's cinderella!

2010-01-20T13:46:00.000-08:00

hi

on the way home from the zoo today (no dead animals, but also no tigers...), i saw a truck that said on the side "ojays fencing." Look, i appreciate that you changed the spelling and i appreciate that we should all be over it by now, but naming your company after a famous murderer (i'm sorry, accused murderer) is just never a good choice. I am not aware of any other fencing companies but i assure you that the day that i do need fencing services, i will not be going to ojay's. based solely on their creeper of a name.

i just finished putting together a moussaka for dinner tonight. i can't keep the voice in my head from saying, in a waspy preteen voice, "Moose caca?" and then giggling with its other waspy voice friends. curse you, My Big Fat Greek Wedding. You are ruining dinner.

2010-01-12T20:49:00.000-08:00

Zoo Story

not too long ago, a little before christmas, i took naomi to the zoo. we have season passes, so i can, with abandon, take naomi to the zoo knowing full well that we'll last, at best, 45 minutes. This particular day it was nasty out. foggy but kinda hot, threatening of rain. that, combined with the fact that it was shortly after the gates opened meant that we basically had the place to ourselves.

here's a little something you should know: i love animals but i am sort of afraid of zoos. i know it doesn't happen very often, but those are some wild animals. and they have been known, from time to time, to get loose. pardon me if i slip into redneck, but there ain't no zoo that's gonna compare to the wilds of africa. and sure as pants, the birmingham zoo doesn't. those animals want to get out. So i admire and respect the animals. also, fear them.

still, i put on a cheerful face for naomi. yes, i fear the zoo, but even more than that, i desire my child to be good and worn out by afternoon "rest." (i'm not sure why i've taken to calling it a "rest" rather than a "nap" but it seems to have caught on with naomi, so there it is). because of the dismantling of monkey island (i can't even begin to explain that phrase), we were rerouted from our usual loop that takes us around the lake, by the savannah area and to the monkey house. instead we made a sharp right into the children's zoo and followed the signs to the detour. it should be noted that, while we didn't see any human beings, there was a peacock standing near the snack bar. apparently, peacocks are allowed to roam. i did not know this and was fairly certain it was a portent of the horrors that awaited us.

over a tiny bridge and onto what amounted to an access road. it was winding so i didn't quite know where we were going. we went up a ramp, wet with previous days' rain and splattered with the poo of some unidentified beast. naomi indicated that she wanted to ascend the wooden stairs that overlooked the boar area. why you have to be above boars, i don't know. i didn't have time to ponder the question as i had just notice what was, i think, a dead animal. perhaps he wasn't dead, but i ask of you: what other reason would he be laying on his side, unmoving, while his friends and colleagues licked (nibbled?!?) him.

my sense of unease grew and i quickly diverted naomi's attention.

we then took in the big cats. well, by took in, i mean that we walked under the vine-y canopy and were smacked in the face with the sickly sweet smell of cat urine (big or small, it's all the same, and it's terrible). the canopy is usually a happy respite from the pounding sun, but today it only added to the chilling mystique of the place. as i tried to point out the lions and the white tiger to my child, i had to swallow back my fear. due to the bizarre atmospheric conditions, the windows were so clouded, we couldn't see in to the hundreds of pounds of untamed wild animals within. seeking a way out, we proceeded forward, only to find that the through area was blocked. about this time, i was attempting to get my bearings while naomi, in her youthful naivete, was drumming on a rock. we were standing in front of the tiger cage (the proper orange and white one, none of this white tiger nonsense). this pen, too, was cloaked in a veil of condensation. so imagine my dismay when, as we stood a few feet away, very much alone, a mother and daughter, mr. tiger positioned himself on the ledge of the window, pacing back and forth. watching us. stalking us. reminding us that he knew exactly where his habitat ended...and where freedom began. the freedom to have a little human baby appeteaser and a lip-smacking mother of an entree.

i hastily removed myself and my child from the area, back the way we came, thank you.

before we could clear the area, though, naomi saw a squirrel. so we spent ten minutes watching squirrel. we get almost eaten by a tiger, eh. but two squirrels circling a tree? look out!

we passed again the maybe-dead-hog pen, which was now thankful was out of sight, and stopped by the pen of a bird. i can't begin to tell you what this bird was, only that it was leggy with a bouffant, not unlike that of a sassy elderly woman. and naomi and it stood and locked eyes for an unsettling amount of time.

moving on...zebras, nothing happening there...then to the giraffes. At last! humanity! there before me stood a young couple with their child. and their photographer. dear God.

pardon me if i tangentalize (oh, it's a word), but i would just like to say, the last time i had a professional capture my likeness on film was at my wedding. it was expensive and all day i felt really stupid that someone was photographing me. since then, i've managed to side-step the photography thing(with the exception of the annual santa picture. but a bored sixteen year old in an elf costume does hardly a photographer make). it's unfathomable to me that people would step headlong into a professional photography session in a place like the zoo that is so ripe for impromptu photos. also, i'm poor. these moments of excess upset me.

and, tangent completed, i can tell you this is why, after a brief moment of horror, seeing one giraffe with its face in the butt of another, brought me joy. you see, pretty family had decided that they should flagrantly ignore the one rule of the zoo, "don't feed the animals," in favor of breaking of a hunk of something and trying to feed it to a giraffe and have it casually make its way into their picture. and it did, regardless of what non-idiginous plant it was eating. while it mugged, giraffe two approached and did something not so nice. as forest might say, "that's all i got to say about tha-yut."

well, that and that i hope they had pre-ordered that picture for their christmas card. ha!

we edged by them and around the bend only to find yet another road block. zoo! what the crap! so we doubled back again and headed down the utility road and back to the children's zoo. the peacock was now resting comfortably against the snack bar window and some very loud world music played. naomi, because she was made too, danced. that was nice. we went to the petting zoo and located a llama. Naomi cutely kept calling it a "mama." But then she persisted despite my corrections and i started to develop a complex.

and then we left. like sands through an hour glass, we slipped out the way we came in. naomi had only thoughts of the lunch she would ignore once we got home and i couldn't shake the image of the hog. or the tiger. or the giraffes...

going to the zoo, it'll change a man.

2009-07-09T12:54:00.001-07:00

Doggy’s Girl

At the end of a goodnight (and they are still startlingly infrequent), I am awakened still in my bed. From the next room, I hear a baby tittering quietly or perhaps the dulcet tones of her glowworm lullaby-ing. I sneak past her bedroom, hit the bathroom and put in my contacts (because glasses are, apparently in naomi’s world, strictly verboten and will not be suffered gladly). I crack open her door and say, “hello, my first-thing-in-the-morning girl!”

She’s generally standing in the corner of her bed. A soft early morning light falls upon her, lighting her up like a little cherub. She gazes up from under her messy mop, smiles broadly and lovingly and offers a single word of greeting, part salutation, part triumphant cheer.

“Doggy!”

Sigh.

To be fair, it’s safe to assume that Naomi is not dissing me for canines. I know this because doggy (or the derivative form “daggy”) is her word for just about everything. Person, place, thing, or idea, they can all be summed up in that single word. Even in this tender, early-morning moment, doggy means (in this order): owl, green mouse in the corner, orange mouse on the closest wall, dog on the poster and, if she’s feeling very verbose and pointy (she points, you see. That’s how I know which “daggy” she’s referring to) it can be a flower, a polka dot, a rainbow, and a butterfly. (She has decals on the wall. We don’t live in a menagerie).

As the day progresses, doggy transcends its morning, playful, joyful temperament. It can be forceful, shooting out of her mouth like a bullet (Duh-gee), it can become a syncopated chant (dah-GEE, dah-GEE), or it can be simple but focused (this is the one she uses when she points to her father or a picture of a dog…or any other animal in a book, it’s simply “doggy” with no exclamation point).

Naomi’s 14 months, so I’m sure I can’t hope for much beyond nonsense speak, but part of me is still a little hurt that she started out with the Da sounds. She’s been saying da-da for months and it’s still her preferred syllable. But recently, she’s given me a little hope to hang onto until she becomes a full-fledged talker. When I point to my chest and ask her with all the hope in the world, “Naomi, who’s this?” after careful consideration, some quiet thought, she drops her chin, looks up at me with a heart melting glance and says shyly, “Mimimimimi.”

I’ll take it.

2008-12-10T14:19:00.000-08:00

Little Slugger

In my life, I have seen very few slugs. Maybe one when I was a child, closer to the ground and more prone to look at the life there. Maybe one when my parents were making me weed the front yard. Maybe an errant one on a sidewalk. My slug exposure has, for the most part, been minimal.

And then this happened.

In the past few weeks, nary a day has gone by where there hasn’t been a slug splooshing along near our back door. They never get very far, but there they are, like a lengthy booger, smudging their way into my home. Due to their lack of speed, I haven’t been horribly bothered by them. Speed is my primary problem with most bugs. Roaches move like there’s a fire behind them and spiders move both quickly and in a manner creepier than anything else. In the world. But these harmless booger bugs would just find their way in and then were content to scoot back and forth between the garbage can and the air vent, biding their time until matt picked them up and put them in the bush outside our door.

Except yesterday our slug came in (because I’ve convinced myself it’s just one slug who’s made an attachment to us and our humble abode) and I was making dinner. And matt was minding the baby. And this slug started to really move. Well, in a relative fashion. I was minding the sage butter (oh yes, be impressed) and I would periodically check his progress and he was edging ever nearer to me. I was alerting matt to the situation, but he felt he needed to stay with the baby. What? You can’t leave a baby on a couch unattended? Oh please.

All right, he probably had a point.

I was becoming more and more discontented. It was coming nearer and nearer. So I decided to take matters into my own hands. I grabbed one of the 4000 pieces of unopened mail that festoon our key table, and I decided to scoop the little fellow up and put him back where he belonged. I leaned in with the envelope and gently nudged it under the slug.

Then it happened. I saw this little boogie’s antennae and…I fell in love. Its buggy antennae were twirling and searching and withdrawing then coming back and I was smitten. What a cute little disgusting creature.

There was some amount to coaxing involved, but eventually, I got the bug onto its transportation and I took it outside. It was a bit of a production to release it from the envelope onto a welcoming leaf, but eventually I extricated it and walked happily back inside with my slightly moistened envelope.

I meant to go back to my cooking but instead I gasped. There was another slug on my floor.

Cuteness be damned, we clearly have an infestation. I was stunned by the rapidity with which one slug replaced another. And I was kind of afraid.

Lovefest over.

Matt came home from lunch today and when I walked into the kitchen it was with horror that I saw two slugs: one by the door and one sludging up it.

I think we have a problem.

2008-09-23T05:35:00.000-07:00

The lion sleeps tonight

Oh. My. Gosh.

My baby—my sweet little Naomi, the apple of my eye, the muffin of my pantry, the darling little person who has changed my life so beautifully—slept. My baby slept. all night AND even wanted to snooze some more. Oh. My. Gosh.

I tried to restrain myself when it happened two nights ago. It could have just been a fluke. Then it happened again last night and I’m daring to dream that the sleepless, wakeful nights are finally over.

You never realize how debilitating a lack of sleep can be until you experience it for four and a half months, which is practically five months which is practically a half a year. Even on the nights when after three of four feedings I could coax this little lovely to nap with me until ten, bringing my net total of sleep to the 8 to 9 hour range, it didn’t count. Nothing compares to the unbridled peace of mind that uninterrupted sleep brings.

Ah. Sleep.

So it’s been awhile. How are you? I am good. Despite the lack of sleep, being a mom has been exceptionally great. I think my baby is uncommonly nice. She’s ruined me for future babies. She rarely cries, she laughs all the time, and even her poops don’t smell (one of these last statements was not true. You be the judge). We actually went out of town last weekend, she and I and my mother, and even with plane rides and extended car rides, she was very, very nice. And I was totally horrified that she wouldn’t be.

You may or may not be aware that traveling these days is a pretty stressful experience. Lines, license, boarding passes, carry-ons, diapers, bottles, changing pads, stuffed eeyores, the list goes on an on. So adding a human baby to the mix makes for pure, liquid chaos. If my mother hadn’t been there, I would have just laid on the ground and given up the ghost. And of course, on top of all the gear, I was horrified in ways I can not describe that I would be on the receiving end of dirty looks a-plenty for bringing a child on a plane.

And then she slept. And ate. And slept and didn’t cry for any notable time from Birmingham to Baltimore, from Baltimore to Pennsylvania, and back. Amazing.

That said, the first night we were there was exceedingly rough. She wouldn’t just wake up in the night. She would wake up frantic and screaming and if I may be so bold, I believe the baby-to-grown-up translation was something like, “MOOOOOOOOM!!! WHERE ARE YOU!?! WHERE AM I?!? WHAT’S HAPPENING?!?! THIS ISN’T MY BED! GET HERE NOW! MOOOOOM!” Something like that. It was not such a good night of sleep. But, as I alluded, I’m pretty well accustomed to lack of sleep.

There was one other incident but it’s so par for the course at this point that it was only with the unblurred vision of a woman with two nights of sleep that I realize it was kinda weird. Standing in the boarding line for our flight home (oh yeah, they don’t preboard babies any more. Suckage), my mom and I had about 10 people between us. I stood holding the baby, while a little adorable three year old was talking about the baby to her mom. (I realize that might read as sarcastic. It shouldn’t. she was actually very very cute). Then I felt the warmth. I know the warmth. The warmth and I have many experiences most days. My baby, who was facing away from me, had had a major puke the warmth I felt was it running down my front and arm, onto my foot, and onto the floor. Now holding a baby and simultaneously wiping off the area between you and the baby, where the puke is pinned, is a rather grave impossibility. So I just figured, well, there’s puke on me. That’s that. I made little moves to get it off, but nothing doing. So I let it go.

Except apparently my baby’s Linda Blair moment had caught the eye of some other people in line and a stranger offered to hold my baby while I wiped up the puke. And so, that is how a stranger in Maryland ended up holding my baby while I tried to clean the floor of the airport. I couldn’t attend my own parcels.

I guess I’ll wrap it up here. Hopefully, I’m back! But if i’m gone for another 6 months, you should know, I like my baby, I like my husband, and I like you.

Here’s a video that makes me laugh. Look, I know it’s been out for a long time, but I’ve been gone for a long time and my love for Flight of the Conchords has only grown:

Listen you, if you have any love for films or any love for my husband matt (watch it, you!) you should visit www.filmnerds.com. It’s currently a little light on content (but it’s getting there) but it has a very active forum where nerdy folks banter about movie films. If you could get a kick out of such things, visit, register, and make matt smile.

2008-06-12T12:22:00.000-07:00

Remember Me?

Somewhere in the cosmos, my husband is cringing over this title. He had a mildly unfortunate incident in his youth which involved him muttering that phrase to someone who indeed did not remember him. While that’s sort of embarrassing, he carries that in his pocket as the most traumatizing moment of his childhood. Lucky mo. You only have to scratch the surface of my life to get to the dalmatian humping my dog at a busy intersection and someone jumping out of their car to assist the thoroughly flummoxed me.

So, I suppose I have some ‘splaining to do. As you know, a baby was had. She’s cute as all get out still and is, amazingly, six weeks old today. We’ve all been doing well. I mean, I haven’t had a full night’s sleep since she was born, but all things considered, if that’s the worst of our problems, we’re in good shape. Strangely enough, I remembered just today that my mother-in-law told me that she had once been advised that life wouldn’t even begin to feel normal again until about 6 weeks in. And, lo and behold, I finally get down to writing a blog.

That said, peanut is screaming and I’ll have to get back to you…

Well, ok. Now I’m doing the one hand type. I’m actually getting fairly accomplished at this.

Right, so about life getting a little bit back to normal. I went to get coffee this morning, with baby in tow. This was kinda huge. For the most part, I have limited going out to BIG outings. That is to say, the kind that involves a meticulously planned diaper bag. It’s such a fuss to put the little lady in her enormously heavy baby chair. And there is the issue of what the car does to her. Nine times out of ten, it has a soothing, you’re getting sleepy effect on her. But oh, that tenth time….she will scream and scream. And this is tough, because she’s in the back seat. So, at best, I can twist myself into a pretzel and sort of tap the top if her head. This is probably, more than anything, just unsettling. Imagine, a disembodied hand touching your head. My mother’s always telling me about the good old unsafe days when a baby could ride in the passenger seat and you could give them a lollipop to get them to stop crying. (true, horrifying story mom tells.)

Anyways, this morning I went to get coffee. I’ve been craving it since I’ve been watching the Gilmore girls. I’m not really proud of it, but I kinda like the show. And it comes on five days a week and it’s an hour long. To someone who’s glued to the couch nursing for much of her waking hours, that’s heaven. Anyways, one of the main characters, Lorelei, is always waxing poetic about coffee.

(ok, sorry, this is turning out to be the blog that took a thousand years to write. I just got the mail. Now, aside from getting a public mailbox worth of forwarded mail—which annoyingly contained a number of time sensitive items—we also got our free picture from olan mills as a thank you for being a part of our church’s pictorial directory. I’m still looking fat from having the baby, the baby is making a pursed lips but pretty cute face, and matt looks nice. My beef? They’re a professional photography group and yet they couldn’t find it in there heart to photoshop my lip sweat out. There’s a little shining, glimmering line of lip sweat above my top lip. Lovely).

Blah, blah, so I wanted to get some coffee this morning. Now the thing is, I have to rock something with a drive through. Much as I love to support our local coffee house, ohenry’s, a five dollar specialty drink isn’t reason enough for my to haul baby-and-seat our of the car. But, our local starbucks (which, amazingly, is new…that’s how wonderful this community is: they only recently got a starbucks) doesn’t have a drive-thru. So I’m left with one option. This mysterious little drive-thru only coffee joint called Seattle’s Best. As per usual, it’s taken me weeks to get up the nerve to try this something new. But I got the baby in the car, she was being quiet and I needed to go to the post office, so I thought, what the heck, I’ll give it a try.

Firstly, I was a little confused, because it’s little more than a shack and there’s a drive-thru on either side, so I had some negotiating to do. Still, making a choice was fairly easy as a) they don’t have an extensive menu and b) I just wanted something cool. Because it’s hot as balls outside. (please note: I use the expression not from experience but from enjoying it’s usage in a restaurant setting). I get to the window, order the drink from the mildly pushy employee (if I wanted a muffin or biscotti, I would have asked for it now, wouldn’t i?), and then was stunned when, after handing me my change she said, “Thanks and see you tomorrow!” WHAT?! I had never been there before…did she confuse me with a regular? Was she playing some jedi mind trick? It did sort of make me feel like I should go again tomorrow just to keep her honest. “See you tomorrow”? Who says that? I was seriously confused for about 30 seconds until I drove near the exit sign which was also emblazoned with the phrase, “see you tomorrow.” I guess it’s their slogan. As I drove home I pondered it all.

I think seattle’s best is really smart. I do want to go again tomorrow and I think it’s because they’re expecting it of me. I don’t want to let them down. Also, they call themselves the best of seattle. And I have no reason not to accept that claim. I’ve never been there.

The only other thing I’d like to tell you is really important. We haven’t spoken in over a month and I’ve been burning to share this. I watched karate kid 2. Wow. It starts with an amazing clip show of the first movie and then jumps 6 months in the future, explains in a sentence Elizabeth shue’s absence then goes crazy from there. International travel? Check. Love interest for mr. miyagi? Check. Cheesy romance sequence including but not limited to an 80s ballad, a jog on the beach and a girl in lavender MC hammer pants and suspenders? Checkity chizeck. A typhoon? You better believe it. And this. Wonderful, amazing, make-me-fall-in-love-with-daniel-san-all-over-again this:

a swing dance in Okinawa. Naturally.

Post script: my husband and his friend Jason have made a series of videos that are somewhat offensive but mostly funny. There’re only 2 posted thus far, but more to come. Check them out here: http://www.youtube.com/user/CupsofPooKing

2008-04-16T08:10:00.001-07:00

New

Still no baby. And thus, still no excuse for my negligence. Apologies and a cooked goose for everyone!

In the time that has elapsed since last we spoke, not much has happened on the baby-front. She actually didn’t measure bigger at this week’s appointment, which could mean that the largeness prediction could have been a fluke. One can only hope. Of course, the largeness thing would have had the pleasant side effect of possibly meaning that she would make an appearance a little early. So who even knows what to wish for these days. She’s healthy so go on girl! That’s enough for me.

So she’s good. I’m a whiny mess. My feet are still swelling like balloons. Our friend Jason correctly assessed that they look like cabbage patch kid feet. So right! There’s no delineation between calves, ankles, and feet. There are some hideous wrinkles at the bottom of my toes but otherwise, it’s just a mess of swollen. Really terrible.

Also, my stomach and back muscles are barking most of the time. This led to an unfortunate incident where I went to sit on my bed, instead sat on the corner of some harry potter books sitting atop my bed, thus falling over, grabbing my butt in pain, and winding up in a situation not unlike that of an overturned turtle. Matt rushed in after hearing my cry, thinking that I had gone into labor. If only. Rather, I had hurt my butt and lacked the musculature to keep myself from just throwing in the towel. I was also getting changed at the time. there is no such thing as dignity in my life at this juncture.

In other news, last week I watched, in a piecemeal fashion, Little Women, the 1930s version starring Katherine Hepburn. It was the first time I had watched this one. Growing up, I loved the June Allyson one. Mom would try to encourage us to watch the older version, but we just couldn’t make it happen. It was black and white, after all! Then the winona ryder one swooped in and was delightful too. But, older, maturer, and unemployed, I decided to give the 30s one a chance. Not going to lie, not a huge fan. I just don’t really like Katherine Hepburn’s acting. I think that’s a crime to say in most states, but there it is.

Still, the story gets me every time. I think this is a very quintessential girl experience. Matt pointed out to me that it’s such a girl thing. I suppose he’s right. I know all my sisters love it and I think I can confidently say that my mother and her sister’s fall into that category too. I think it’s the sort of idealized version of sisterhood that’s so appealing. Plus, there’s a little humor, a little romance, how can you miss?

But I do have to say, I’m still a little troubled by Jo’s refusal of laurie (oh, sorry. Spoiler alert. But really, who doesn’t know that?). I suppose with age, I’m a little more understanding, but really. They should have been together. I think it really gets my goat because not only do Jo and Laurie not get together, but then he marries stupid old amy. Honestly.

That’s all I have to say on that. That and everything. I’m done. Have a lovely day. And if you’re not anticipating a lovely day, here’s a bit of advice that might help.

2008-04-08T08:25:00.001-07:00

D@mn Dirty Apes

I woke up yesterday morning to the disturbing news that Charlton Heston died. It’s not that there was anything bizarre about his death. In fact, as I understand it, he was 84. That’s a nice long life. And it’s not that I had a particular affinity for the man. Rather, I knew very little of him. Until this past weekend. Eerily before his death.

Matt suggested that we watch Planet of the Apes. He was pretty jazzed about me seeing it, since I was pretty much a blank slate. I’m game for a classic film experience, so I complied.

The thing about that movie is that it’s kinda terrible. And Mr. H’s brand of shatner-esque over-acting is decidedly abominable. And I voiced as much, adding for good measure that he was a weird looking dude.

And then he died.

You can see how I’m feeling a little bad about how that all went down.

That said, file under “things that don’t make me feel bad” this little tidbit: I’m a winner! I believe I have mentioned before that I try, very much, to win at every turn. If a receipt says that I could win $5000 for calling and responding to a survey, I almost always do it. So, when Entertainment Weekly acknowledged my faithful readership and invited me to be a part of a survey group, I complied. Not too long ago, I was filling in a survey about ads in a recent issue and at the end they gave you the option to choose your prize, should you win. I mentioned this particular survey to matt because one of the prize options was Season 1 of Flight of the Conchords. Since we watched it on netflix, matt and I have been coveting ownership of said television show but, alas, found ourselves to be too light of wallet to enjoy such indulgences.

SO imaging my pleasure when, on Friday evening, I looked in my email box to find out that I was, in fact, a wiener, and would be soon enjoying my own personal copy of Flight of the Conchords. Wee! It was especially fun, because matt was at least as excited as I was. The one worrying point is that the email mentioned that they would be sending it to the address they had on file, my old one. I emailed back a corrected address but haven’t heard back. That’s got me a little concerned. Still, our mail should still be forwarding so, fingers crossed, we should have that bit of New Zealand hilarity before too long.

I hope.

So I’m now to the point in the pregnancy where I go to the doctors every week. It’d be alright except…well, these are not the cute little appointment which I had been enjoying recently where they measured my stomach, listened to baby’s heartbeat and let me go home. They are, unfortunately, significantly more involved. Anyways, at this week’s installment, my doctor wanted me to get an ultrasound, ostensibly for the purpose of figuring out baby girl’s positioning. Well, I was pumped. I hadn’t gotten to see her since the five month gender defining ultrasound. I didn’t get pictures or anything, but I got to see her sweet little fact for a moment and that was quite enjoyable.

The ultrasound technician was mostly doing measuring business and told me that peanut was head down, which is good. She left it to my doctor to expound on the other. Which is that I’m having an enormous baby.

Maybe enormous is overstating it, but she’s estimated to be 7 pounds and 3 ounces. And I have four more weeks until my due date. Holy cow. To put this in perspective, there are plenty of babies carried to term who way 7 pounds and 3 ounces and are merely considered a little small. My baby is that weight now. Holy cow. We got a chubster. (which, incidentally, delights papa bear, who’s a sucker for a pudgy baby).

This information, coupled with the fact that I apparently have a slightly narrow pelvic structure (who knew? Mom always told me that I had child bearing hips), means that delivery could be tricky. Not dangerous or anything, just slightly more complicated. The upshot is that, should natural labor not happen by 39 weeks, some consideration will be given to induce. This isn’t ideal, but for the selfish mom, there are some positives to that outcome. For one, you’re not totally caught off guard by the events and, I’m not going to lie, I wouldn’t mind the baby coming a little early rather than later. Still, good mom prevails, and I know the best case scenario is for little bambina to come on her own and arrive in a non-surgical fashion.

Anyways, all of this to say, I left the doctor’s a little deflated yesterday. Just the knowledge that I am carrying a pretty much full-sized baby made me exhausted. That said, I does explain why, when the little one kicks me, it is with enough force to about send me flying across the room. I’ve got an Amazonian baby living in pretty tight quarters. I guess I’d be annoyed too.

And that’s the news, folks.

Sorry about the subtitles, but this segment really delighted me. I hope that when he gets moved to California next year he won’t have to start having only stars on his show…because stuff like this is dynamite.

2008-03-31T09:31:00.001-07:00

By popular demand

I say popular demand. I lie. I had one individual reader (new reader! Hey friend!) tell me they missed reading the blog and I felt bad. But, if I’m honest, I was feeling kinda bad anyways. Casual readers might have thought that I had gone ahead and had that baby. Alas, no. I’m larger and getting larger and the baby is stationed firmly in utero. As she should be. I’m whining like a champ. My feet are still meatloaf-y. Everything is mostly status quo.

The initial reason for the drop off was a slightly traumatizing event in the life of matt and i. Nothing hugely serious, but kinda disheartening, so I was feeling low for awhile and used it as an excuse to not write a blog. Then, the fact that I hadn’t written one in awhile became a good enough reason not to write. “oh, it’s been two weeks; why not make it three?” But I’m back now. And I will try to be faithful.

That said, I have a few early morning activities for the next few days, so I may immediately fall back into negligence. It happens.

So, as I stated, I’m large. My belly button is getting very close to the turkey timer pop. It’s not there yet, but it’s very shallow, very nearly flush with the rest of my swollen abdomen. I think my pregnant lady waddle is becoming ever more pronounced. I’m pretty much wearing exclusively my sneakers so loose I can barely tie the laces. Oh, and one of the worst things? I noticed because there were (very unfortunately) pictures taken of me this weekend at the baby shower (more on that later), I’m sitting big. I mean, it’s been months since I could cross my legs (putting on socks and shoes is a MAJOR production) but now I can’t even daintily sit with my ankles together. I sit like a linebacker. And since my physique pretty much is that of a large football player, the overall effect is very unsettling. And, while I’ve given up on a defined chin a long time ago, I think I’m getting what Jessica termed “pregnancy nose.” What was a fairly proportionate nose previously seems to be warping and widening. I’m starting to look like a 5-year-old’s artistic interpretation of myself. Sigh.

So we had a baby shower on Saturday. I hope folks had a good time. I don’t really know because I spent the vast majority of the event opening gifts. Nothing makes me quite so uncomfortable in life. I don’t mind it so much with my family at Christmas (after all, I’ve done that 25 times) but opening in front of friends has always been upsetting. Even as a kid, I didn’t like doing it at birthday parties. Weird, I know. But I was very happy that, for the most part, the guests were perfectly content to visit with each other and only check in periodically. Sweet.

So there were many, many presents and they were wonderful and fun and cute as a button. (when matt was helping me unload the car, he admitted he was getting “excited in a girly way” seeing all the things for our little bundle o’ joy). It is pretty great. But, not unlike the wedding, we’re having another case of we have a lot of awesome things and about no money. Like my kitchen, it’s pretty pimped out from the wedding, really nice pots and pans and appliances but we, essentially, live below the poverty line. Likewise, we’ll have a little darling dressed to the nines being carried around by two parents with ash smudges on their face and tattered rags on their backs. (slight exaggeration, but only slight).

In other news, I’ve been listening to abba a lot lately. It primarily happened because I very upsettingly realized that I didn’t know the verses to that song of songs Fernando. So I listened to it about 14 times in a row. I think I’ve got it. And, I’ll be honest, the thought has crossed my mind that my baby might pop from the womb in a white jumpsuit singing Take a Chance on Me or Waterloo, and that would be totally acceptable to me.

Anyways, I think that’s about all I’ll say to you folks today. Baby stepping back into blogging, you know.

Thanks tash, for pointing me towards this video. As always, he makes an excellent and erudite point. I would quote him vertabim.

2008-03-12T08:33:00.001-07:00

Sausage toes

On Conan last night (which we watched this morning), he made some joke about a 3 AM call and how that would be ok for McCain because he’d already be up peeing.

Mr. McCain and I have this in common. I am a 3 AM pee-er. I know many of us visit the facilities in the night but this consistent 3 am thing is what is getting to me. It’s pretty wild. But, mostly, annoying.

Annoying, particularly, because lately after my nightly sojourn, I spend the rest of the night in a state, not ever able to get comfortable and really sleep hard. Annoying, annoying.

Then there is the foot situation. Listen, if you happen to be a single woman, seeking a hursband, I would like to let you in on a little something. One of the most important attributes a man can have is the kindness of heart to rub your feet when they are swollen like over-buoyant rescue rafts and approximately the same length and width. With toes like Vienna sausages and feet whose top side has ½ an inch of squash where there once was naught, the foot-rubbing husband is a blessing from God. Yay, matt!

(it should be noted, while he’s always willing to help a sister out, yesterday he rubbed them after I said, “did you say you wanted to rub my feet?” I’ll be honest; he did not express any such emotion).

Alright, so it’s been a bit since we’ve spoken. The weekend happened. Matt and I went to the parenthood class. It was pretty good stuff, but thanks to mom’s extensive video series she made us watch, it wasn’t much new. The new aspect was all the post-partum stuff. Holy cow. I’m now totally stressed out about the prospect of all the stuff that goes on after a baby is forcefully ejected from my body (ew. That was totally repulsive. But accurate). Ay yi, there’s a lot that will happen. And then add to that that folks are going to want to come and visit…it’s almost too much for my feeble psyche.

Also this weekend matt and I (marginally) participated in the Sidewalk Scramble. Really, I just added some background vocals to a song, helped out with some paperwork, and brought food. Matt provided much more tantalizing contributions, including making sound effects, like punch noises and pancake noises, and dressing in a tunic, stripping to his underpants, and sitting in a bathtub while a group of six mod dancers frolicked about him.

It’s going to be a fairly interesting film. Our buddy sam was the mastermind and my big brother chris contributed the characters and backgrounds which were then animated by two other folks. All in all, a meeting of minds. And all I did was bring bagels.

Also, in my absence, I enjoyed a number of netflix films. We watched Across the Univers, which, despite being exceedingly long and kinda absurd, was really enjoyable. It’s essentially a glorified string of very stylized beatles videos. Who’s going to argue with that? I’m all pumped to get the soundtrack.

Last night we finished Deadwood. Pretty bleak, but good. The previous two season sort of ended with pretty uplifting scenes and this one was d-a-r-k. Though, visually and otherwise, I think this last season was significantly darker. But very good. Next up, on Jessica’s recommendation is Dead Like Me…intermingled with a host of other films.

Last night we also, finally, finished the BBC Pride and Prejudice. We watched the first two parts on PBS but then the last part came on the day after we moved and our tivo wasn’t set up. So I requested volume 2 and matt and I tried to figure out where were in the epic story. Mission eventually accomplished and, against his better judgment, matt liked it. I know he did!

That’s mostly it. Oh, the pup came over on Monday and got into an ant bed. I guess it’s the schnauzer in her, but she has an uncanny desire to stick her nose into any bit of soft ground she can…unfortunately, it was an ant bed and she was standing in it, too, for entirely too long before I figured out what was happening. So sad. She clearly was baffled as to what was happening but she wouldn’t really let me help her get the ants off. She eventually got them all off but it was a sad little stretch there.

I’m sucking down an O’Henry’s beverage called a Cinnamon Roll. Now look here, I got a decaf, but in my obviously pregnant state, I feel the eyes of the coffee drinking world boring holes in me every time I enjoy a beverage from there. This one lady in particular, I could feel her nose-looking-down-ness this morning. She was the size of a peanut and in a matching tennis outfit. Her hair was meticulous and she got her coffee in a hurry and burst out the door ahead of this swarthy pregnant woman, only pausing to look disbelievingly at me. Then she got into a small convertible and I was vindicated when I noticed that her vanity plate read “zoomin.” Puhlease. You can go ahead and judge your heart out. I may be fat, I may drink coffee, but I will never have such a lame-A tag on my car.

Fin.

Awhile back I shared laser cats 2. Somehow I had not seen the original…I’ll never have to say that again. And neither will you.

2008-03-07T08:42:00.000-08:00

Blackbirds and barbeque

Oh that’s right. I’m writing a blog. Which can only mean one thing. That I have something interesting to say? What are you, new? Nay, it means that I have work related writing to do today and I’d like to put it off as long as I can.

So, what’s new since I posted that simian representation of myself? I made barbeque yesterday. It was pretty huge. Huge, in that I had never rocked the crock pot bbq and it was pretty stinking good. Huge, also, in the sense that 1 ½ pounds of pork is an awful lot for hubs and myself to dominate. So we had A LOT of food leftover. I tried to pawn it off on both sam and Linda mcd but alas, both were away from their nearby abodes. And, frankly, were probably a little alarmed by an unsolicited offering of pork. So now we have bbq in our freezer. Sigh.

On Tuesday, matt and I enjoyed a lunch out with my big brother chris at what he promised was the “best Chinese food buffet in town.” Right. To say I was skeptical is to make a statement that was under-exagerating my emotions.

Chris directed me towards the alleged greatness. He even went so far as to describe it as “palatial”

(Pause the story for a second: I just looked out my window and there are probably some hundred plus blackbirds who have descended upon in the very small bit of lawn beside the apartment. Very disturbing sight. I’m wondering if it has anything to do with the shortcake that I threw out there this morning. Yikes. Such power I wield. Ok, there was just a mass exodus. Which, needless to say, was very reminiscent of The Birds.)

Right, back to the story. So after chris dropped the work “palatial” like it was hot and then I tried to describe myself thusly, which then led to a discussion to what the word means (admittedly, I didn’t know. I just thought it meant “big” not actually referring to a structure being like a palace), we were there at the New China Buffet. It was taking up the corner of a pretty decrepit looking strip mall and my skepticism was nothing if not encouraged to grow stronger. We walked passed a silly little meditation pond (complete with a leprechaun-sized bridge) and into a non-descript foyer thingy and then…whoa.

Palatial was exactly the correct way to describe this place. The hostess stand and payment station was set in an opulent, two-story space that was rife with gilding, a gazebo, decorative vases, the works. As matt astutely put it, it looked like the set of a Jackie chan movie.

Then there was the food. I believe we counted 9 (nine!) buffets, with selections from china, sure, but also pizza, French fries, casseroles, desserts, and a full ice cream bar. Wow! This place obviously saw a good bit of business as there were so many booths and tables that each row was marked with a letter so you could find your way home. It was epic.

Yes, it was palatial.

Tonight, matt and I have to go to Parenthood classes to appease the powers that be at our hospital. You may think I sound hostile, but the thing is, my momsicle lovingly provided matt and I with some 12 videos aimed at new parents. We, painstakingly, watched them all and after seeing more women give birth than anyone ever should have to, I really don’t want to live through that again. But the thing is, I feel confident that videos of that nature probably figure into these classes pretty heavily. And, frankly, I don’t know if I can abide by this again. It’s traumatizing.

On a much more pleasant note, matt and I have been enjoying very much relaxing to the max when he gets home from work every day. Our routine now, thank you tivo, includes watching the previous nights Conan. Oh, well this wasn’t exactly the one I was looking for, but I like it pretty well.

2008-03-05T08:32:00.000-08:00

Character Counts and Accuracy Matters

2008-03-03T08:46:00.000-08:00

Going Blog Wild!

See this? Monday morning and I’m trying to start the week off on a good blog foot. That is to say, I’m writing one. Though, I’ll be honest, all I want to do is jigzone and listen to a podcast. It’s a nasty habit. Well, no, I guess it’s not nasty, but definitely lazy.

Alright, since we last spoke, not too much has happened. Matt had his first weekend. Having worked previously in a job that had him on call pretty much every second of his life (for sports writing, yeesh), he got to appreciate the slim, but notable merits of an office job. That is, from Friday PM to Sunday PM you are FREE! We went to breakfast on Saturday morning, a movie Saturday night, and even lunch with his grandfather Sunday afternoon, with nary a care in the world. It was GREAT.

Oh, movie-wise, we saw Be Kind Rewind. We had read the reviews and they were only so-so and they were about right. On the one hand, it was a pretty little story and of course the visuals were stunning in the “sweded” movies (this is michel gondry, after all) but the story was just kinda…off. As matt very astutely noted, it was very much like listening to an acceptance speech from someone with English as a second language (which happened a striking amount at this years Oscars). It was well-intended but not quite right. Anyways, I can’t really recommend it, but it would be worth checking out the videos it begat. Which I would direct you to the website that has them, but we couldn’t find it the other day.

As I mentioned, matt and I went to breakfast on Saturday. What I didn’t mention was that we walked. This is to say, I am still totally enamored with our new place. In addition to walking to breakfast, I walked to the library and on Sunday, to church. What a joy!

That said, by last night my feet were roughly the width of snowboards. I was having a bad pregnant day yesterday (marked by indigestion, a nagging lightheadedness, and an irrational amount of crying), but the feet were really what did it. My feet aren’t glorious or anything, but they are alright. Kinda small, kinda delicate. Well, they were ok. Now they are enormous swollen things. They don’t hurt, exactly, they just feel tight and uncomfortable. Homey doesn’t like this. And they look really stupid.

I’m drinking a cup of coffee just at the moment from the local lovely coffee house. It is divine. Calm down, you pregnancy Nazis. It’s a decaf. But oooooh, it’s nice. It’s been awhile and I’ve missed you old friend.

Oh, as for that stupid title today, it’s a little homage to one of the few funny things on this week’s SNL, andy samberg’s diabolo cody impression. I’ll try to find it and put it on the blog sometimes this week. It does a marvelous (and necessary) skewering of the jive talking in Juno.

Here’s a song that I somehow missed previously. Matt brought it to my attention.

2008-02-28T10:58:00.000-08:00

Bad Robot

Who do I think I am? It’s been, what, a full week since I wrote a blog. Disgraceful. You may be right. I may be crazy. But, as I keep on reminding you, it just may be a lunatic you’re looking for. At any rate, here’s a blog.

So we’ve moved. We did it. It is done. All things considered, it went smoothly and, being unemployed as I am, I’ve made good time making things feel like a home, if I do say so. The main rooms don’t have boxes any more (let’s not talk about the baby’s room, which is where boxes of crap go to die). I’ve put up curtains (rods first, then curtains; be impressed). How about this: I even changed out our two decrepit faucet fixtures.

That’s right, come-a, come-a, come-a, come-a, come on. I’m your handy man. Well, woman. With safety goggles, a wrench, and a lot of moxie, I undertook a (minor) plumbing project. I plumbed the depths. And though the fixtures are not super impressive (I just bought the cheapest ones they had at lowe’s, but at least they’re not a thousand years old anymore), every time I turn on a tap, I glow with pride.

Well, I did yesterday. Then, this morning as my darling husband got ready for work he said from the bathroom, “there seems to be a plumbing problem in here.” “Is it the toilet?” I asked hopefully. “no…” “it’s not the sink is it?” “ummm…”

As it turns out, I wasn’t totally the wiz I thought I was and one of the taps wasn’t quite connected as tightly as it should have been. Whoops. However, it’s fixed now and I’m slowly trying to build up that pride again.

So! Matt has a new job and it becomes ever more apparent how unemployed I am. Which, rationally, it wouldn’t make much sense for me to get a job just now, with a bambino on the way, but I still have a serious case at stay at home guilt. Which, now that I think about it, is probably what spurred on my ultra-productive days since we’ve been here. My thought process goes something like this, “If I’m not going to contribute financially beyond my freelance, by george, we shall have curtains!” It makes me feel better. However, due to the clip with which I have undertaken these get-rid-of-guilt projects, I’ll be out of stuff to do by next week. Hmmm. That could be a problem.

Did I tell you of my new obsession? I get a jigsaw puzzle delivered to my inbox everyday. Holy craps. It’s magnificent. However, I am usually 2 to 3 minutes slower than the average at putting them together. Still, I shall conquer this and become a jigsaw specialist. I can feel it.

Um, hi, Jackson 5, can you NOT contribute to my guilt? Itunes just pulled up the song Sugar Daddy. Honestly.

So the academy awards came and went. For one of the first times in a long time, I actually watched it. Matt and I went to his aunt and uncle’s house (dressed as Juno and Bleeker) to watch. I’ll be honest; for the most part it was pretty boring and as expected, No Country swept most of the big ones. it was a deserving movie, so I can’t get too mad but I feel like There Will Be Blood was robbed. Nicest moment of the night: when John stewart let the chick from Once come back on and give her acceptance speech. Honestly, she is probably the cutest thing in the world. Maybe I’ve just got the warm fuzzies towards her from the movie, but…I don’t know. She seems like good people.

Have we talked about how great Lost has been this season? Because I would just like to weigh in with this assessment: pretty. Flipping. Great.

Sorry the blog was a little disjointed. You know, I can’t be expected to make sense when I’ve been out of the game for this long. It takes awhile to hit the groove.

This makes it really hard to be ok with animal testing. Unless this is the type of testing they are doing. (thank you WNYC’s radio lab for introducing this concept to me).

2008-02-18T11:28:00.001-08:00

Moving on up

Yikes. It’s been pretty wild here for the last little bit. Lots of back and forth and packing and stressing. Lots to get done. Hard to write coherent blog….

But I’ll try.

So fatty’s reached a new landmark. My wedding ring, gone. I mean, not gone, I know where it is, but after a very stressful and painful removal of it yesterday, I’ve had to set it in my jewelry dish and merely wonder at the indention its left on my very swollen ring finger. I guess I might have to do the wear it on a chain thing. I was trying to wear it on my pinky, but it was a little too big for that. Ah, give me a day or two, and my pinky will be so big it’ll refuse the gold band.

In other news, matt and I went to a grown-up party on Saturday. The radio station WJOX, to whom matt is a sometimes weekly contributor was having a second anniversary party. And we were invited. And went.

It was about as thrilling as I expected it to be. Which is to say, not very. You’ll be surprised to hear that the Birmingham sports community is not filled with folks I know. A few highlights though. First, matt’s future employees, the AAFL, made a big showing as cosponsors of the event. They are NICE. His new boss gave me a hug, a HUG, when she met me. Which was nice. Because when your at an event filled with well-dressed and attractive people, it’s hard to be the sole blimp. AND not have the comfort of alcohol.

Also, Matt won an electric guitar. Seriously. It was a little bizarre. He doesn’t play the guitar or any instrument for that matter. Yet, he was the winner of a signed electric guitar. He seems, inexplicably, really pleased with this prize. Me, I can’t help but ruefully note that, sandwiched on either side of that door prize, were vacation packages. Doh!

Though the strike is over now, I think it’s safe to say that my television viewing habits are still suffering. Last night, in desperation, matt agreed to watch the first half of the BBC Pride and Prejudice that we had tivo-ed from last weeks Masterpiece theater. (YES! We’ve been watching PBS! That’s what it’s come to. Last week we watched a special on Mormanism. During prime time). Matt had been putting this off, but we just had no other choice. He was diplomatic about it though, recognizing that it could never be as bad as he was expecting it to be.

I think he was charmed pretty quickly. And, in a strange twist of fate, I got to have the pleasure of explaining a few things to matt. (Generally, especially in the case of The West Wing, matt was the one pausing to stop and explain what had just occurred). Anyways, today he’s already offered to watch the second half (which aired last night), so I think it’s safe to say, he might just like it!

(YESSSS! Matt just came into the room holding a plate of hotdogs and singing to them. At last, the transformation is complete! Lunchtime always brings out the inner songwriter in me. Matt is quite used to listening to me serenade my lunch as I prepare it. Periodically, he would chime in on my creations. Now, he’s done it on his own, unprovoked. This is a big day).

Oh, we somehow managed to cram The Spiderwick Chronicles into a fairly busy weekend. It was a pretty fun flick, though pretty intense for a kids’ film. Definitely not for the under 8 set, I would think. Seth Rogen weighed in with a Frank Oz-ish voiceover which proves that, should the fat-slacker thing end prematurely, he could have a healthy second career. And David Strathairn? Oh, I have such a crush on him. He’s just so classy and classic looking. Anyways, now I’m jazzed to read the book. What? I like children’s literature. Sue me.

No, don’t. I don’t have much expendable income just at the moment.

Today’s video courtesy of timbot. Not sure why this amuses me so greatly, but it does. It definitely does.

2008-02-13T12:18:00.000-08:00

Fruit of the Womb

I had to go to target to buy milk and underpants.

In the ever lengthening list of ways pregnancy has robbed me of any sort of dignity, today I found myself in the under garment department of target searching for the largest pack I could find of enormous underpants. I was able to hold on (or maybe my underpants were doing the desperate clutching) this long, but after wearing out my minimal supply of once-too-big underpants, it became apparent: I needed new underpants. So I bought them. A 7-for-the price-of-6 pack of mammoth fruit of the looms. And my, my. My loins have never been so comfortably girded.

So that’s my underpants story. Believe it or not, this blog’s about to get a whole lot more disturbing.

Every time I think the neighbor situation can’t get stranger, it definitely, definitely did. I’m minding my own, watching Seinfeld last night when matt cried from the bathroom, “wait, pause that a second….do you hear that?”

I didn’t so I moved over closer to where he was.

Oh. My.

Our downstairs neighbors were kicking up a ruckus again, but this time, I wish, oh I wish I hadn’t heard it. The woman was quickly chanting what sounded like nonsense, non-stop for at least a good ten minutes. It sounded like she was having a fit or speaking in tongues. Then the guy started intoning over her babble, “I neeeeed you. I neeeeeeed you” over and over. Matt said later when he listened in the guy was saying, “I have broken it, I have broken it.”

WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON HERE!?

I am, officially, afraid of neighbors again. I will be very, very, very happy once we move. Gee whiz.

That’s about that. I’m going to go start on a cake that I’m making for V-day tomorrow. One of the nice things about being married is that there is very little pressure to impress each other come the 14th. Matt and I discussed things and, recognizing that we are poor and that both of us, really, just wanted some godiva chocolates, decided to buy a joint box of them, voila. Celebration accomplished. Actually, matt’s going to make some dinner to and, as I mentioned, I’ll be making a fancy, ganache-d cake. Good times for everyone.

An oldie but a goodie. This goes out to all you ladies….ooooooh yeah,

2008-02-12T09:26:00.000-08:00

Hey man, I just want some muesli.

Sunday night (or Monday morning, if you will) at 4 AM matt and I were awakened by a domestic disturbance in the apartment below us. The same man who last week orated with the fervor of Charles Foster Kane was now bellowing at his wife who was, in turn, giving it right back to him. Both proceeded with no thought of the folks upstairs who were, until very recently, peacefully slumbering. It went on for some time, culminating in the guy shouting something about “this is why you don’t get MARRIED!” and slamming the door.

Why? Why, God?

Matt and I are entirely innocuous neighbors. We don’t throw wild parties, we don’t turn our television up loudly. We don’t slam doors. This can’t be some sort of karmic retribution. Unless, and this really worries me, it’s retribution for what is to come. What if the wee babe is going to be a big crier and our next neighbors are going to hate us? I don’t think I’ll be able to take it. Maybe if she gets noisy in the night I’ll just get in the habit of taking a middle-of-the-night drive or something. I can’t stand the thought of being the despised neighbor. Yikes.

As the move draws closer (weekend after next, wowzers!) I think I can confide in you that I’m about .01 percent packed. I’m going to have to get on that. Freelance has dried up a bit, so I really have no excuse. And…the flipping strike stretches on!

We watched all three of our netflix dvds over the weekend, so now we’ve got nothing. Finished My So-Called Life (you know my feelings about that), started season 2 of deadwood, and watched Radio Days. A moment for Radio Days: it’s a really, really nice movie. I’m not at all the woody allen buff that matt is, but I this was definitely one of my favorites, if not my absolute favorite that I’ve seen thus far. Very warm fuzzy/ funny. It’s like A Christmas Story, but without the Christmas. I recommend it.

Oh, also, on Saturday we saw woody allen’s newest film, Cassandra’s Dream, up in Birmingham. It was pretty good stuff. It’s a tenuous drama, ala matchpoint. I wish I could say that the experience matched the quality of the film. However, we saw it in one of the last remaining not rave theaters in the ham, and it was pretty awful. We (matt, myself, and our friend ben) were the only people in the theater, so if fell to us (ok, the two boys) to inform them when, a) after the previews, the film just didn’t come on, b) the sound wasn’t loud enough (this was never rectified) and c) the frame got out of order so everyone’s feet were at the top of the screen. They fixed that last one only to have it drift back down, so we spent the second half of the film seeing all the boom mics. Sigh. Pretty annoying.

Let’s see, what else happened this weekend. I cried all through The Color Purple last night. This is what I was reduced to watching. I had never seen it, so I recorded it off of BET. It’s a good movie, though it was tough to muscle through the blaring commercials that punctuated this very, very long movie.

But another word about the crying. Now I’ve always been a crier. This is a fact of life. If a movie even pretends like it’s going to tug at the heartstrings, tears will well and flow. Fine, that’s just par for the course. However, in my puffy, rather pregnant state, I have found that I can’t just weep a few silent tears. When I cry, my lip goes trembly and it’s like the hoover dam has broken. it’s all I can do to choke back my sobs. I cry as though I, personally, have been greatly wronged. It’s happening at least once a day, but if I’m watching something sad or nice (like The Color Purple or Radio Days), forget it. Oceans have seen less salt water.

I guess that’s mostly it. Hope all is going well and my public apologies to Clare for my callous words about My So-Called Life last week. Hey clare, maybe you could just chalk it up to….

2008-02-08T09:17:00.001-08:00

His first name isn’t Citizen

Continuing our trend of incredibly considerate neighbors, last night our downstairs neighbor awakened matt and I at 4 am with, not an argument, but a very loud conversation. A very loud and animated conversation. In the bedroom. Directly below our bedroom. It was really pretty mystifying. On the one hand, it didn’t seem like an argument, but the guy was orating in a very energetic manner. In fact, my disgruntled mind put together the following sentence as a way of moaning to my husband, “that guy thinks he’s orson welles….as Citizen Kane….in the major motion picture Citizen Kane.” These are the drivellings of a woman who wants little more than to be asleep at 4 am.

What else? Yesterday was a very. Lazy. Day. I rocked some very frightening maternity stretch pants (the only full-panel pair I own) and a button-down maternity top. It was exceedingly mom-ish of me. A note about the full-panel pants. They’re the ones that come up over the maternal girth, or at least a good way up. I have, for the bulk of my pregnancy, preferred the roll-down variety of pants, which have a panel that you can pull up urkel style OR roll under the roundness. I usually roll it down. It’s comfortable and I don’t feel quite as dorky. The downside of this is that for most of the day, I feel like my pants are threatening to fall off. So, I’m loathed to admit it, I sort of enjoyed my big mama pants yesterday.

That said, I hermitted it up yesterday. When I wanted ice cream in the afternoon, I conned matt into going out and getting it for me. Likewise, when we needed a few items for dinner, matt was up and at ‘em. I was lounging in my hideous outfit, sans make-up.

It was a good day.

Hmm. Oh, matt and I watched the film Sunshine the other day. I think it came out sort of mid-07. It was pretty interesting stuff. It’s a little dense and being set in space, a little abstract. But, in that Danny Boyle way, kinda stylized and visually interesting. It’s worth checking out.

Oh, I’m finally on my last disc of My So-Called Life. I’m not going to lie to you: I sort of hate it. I mean, I’ve watched all four discs to date and…I just find it really, really annoying. I know it’s beloved and I think maybe a lot of that stems from the nostalgia factor. As I didn’t watch it the first time around, I have no such warmth for it. There are only two (2) characters I like: Ricky and the little sister. Everyone else drives me absolutely crazy. Chief among these crazy makers are the parents. OH! How I want to hit them and kick them and punch them. And rayanne, with her floppy, flippy, dippy, skippy self. She’s cruisin’ for a bruising. The one that has shocked me the most is Brian. I really thought they would make him the sympathetic dork. NO! He’s horrible! There’s very, very little to like about him. Angela’s all right, but her narrative tend towards the over-thought and look-at-me!-I’m-sensitive. Blech. I know I’m taking my life in my hands by saying I don’t like such a beloved program, but I definitely don’t like it. And it takes itself so seriously that there isn’t even that enjoyable cheese factor that you get in a show like Dawson’s Creek. Nope, Freaks and Geeks still holds the title of absolutely, hands-down best highschool show that’s ever been on tv.

Aaaaaand, scene.

For muddling through my tirade against My So-Called Life, I’m going to try to find you a nice video.

Well…I think it’s nice. I will never be able to repay tasha for introducing me to this guy.

2008-02-06T12:11:00.000-08:00

Everyone has. They love it.

Sorry I’m so very full of it. I told you, “hey, I won’t have a job now…I’ll blog my face off.” I still don’t have a job, but my face is very much where God intended it to be. I apologize. When it comes down to it, I’m just very, very lazy.

Also, I’m averaging some creepy amount of sleep most days, usually about 10 hours. I always feel like I have to reiterate that I’m pretty sure this is baby-related since, pre-prenatal fatness, I used to be a fairly early riser. Anyways, I sleep this late, I eat a little breakfast, exercise (oh yes, sometimes it happens), then get in the shower. By the time I’m ready to face the day, it’s practically lunchtime, and who wants to blog after lunch? No one. But I am today. Out of guilt. And also out of waiting for my hair to dry and thus me to fix it before I vacate the apt for target.

Because I’m going to baby register. Holy craps. Mom and I went to babies r us yesterday and started on that mess. Wow! I think we were there for about 3 hours. It was sort of a tutorial session from mom, which I appreciated but egads! There is so much to consider! Wedding registry was a cakewalk by comparison. With that it was pretty much all aesthetic. Not so much when buying car seats. Anyways, today I’m going to check out the nursery furniture situation at the ‘get.

Part of this is because I’m trying to muscle through a day of fasting and abstinence. For my non-catholic readers, there are a few dietery restrictions placed on catholics during Lent. On Fridays during lent, we abstain from meat. Not too big of a deal. In fact, most days I kinda do that anyways. On Ash Wednesday (today) and Good Friday, in addition to abstaining, we also fast. Now, this sounds pretty dramatic, but the Catholic church, being fairly aware that quitting food cold turkey for a day is pretty intensive, asks, instead, that catholics just eat two lesser meals (combined not equaling a full meal) and one full meal on a day of fasting. So, basically, it’s eating slightly smaller meals at breakfast and lunch and not snacking. Not too bad.

That said, some people who really, really find food to be one of the great loves in their life find this to be pretty difficult. Aka, me. So my tactic to surviving this day of slightly less food? Keep busy. And go to bed early. And sleep late. Pathetic, I know. And actually, my mom told me that pregnant ladies are exempt. I was heartily relieved to hear this as I was hungry like the wolf by noon. But, still wanting to make a sacrifice, I’m avoiding non-meal eating today. Which, for this ravenous beast, is still proving to be a challenge.

So that’s that. I’m going to target to waste time until dinner. And to look at their furniture. Which I genuinely like.

Let’s see, what happened this weekend? Oh, matt and I went to the gymnastic meet. It was really fun! I never thought I’d see the day where I really enjoyed a sporting event, but there it is. Since it was just a dual meet (I don’t know if that’s what they call them; that’s what we called them), the teams took turns, back and forth on events, so you got to see everyone compete. Really enjoyable. I kinda look forward to going to another one.

Saturday…I’m pretty sure we did jack-squat. I watched Kill Bill Vol.1. Pretty crazy and good stuff.

Sunday, as you are probably aware, there was a big football game. Our friend Ben came over and we had a nice time. It was my first attempt at trying to make a football spread. I’ll be honest, it was mostly chips and dip. Actually, pretty much exclusively chips and dip. We had red stripe and diet coke. Only to, through the course of the evening, discover that our guest didn’t drink, the beers nor the caffeines. Whoops. BUT then I remembered these two decrepit Frescas that had been in our fridge forever. It was from back when I was trying to not drink caffeine, before my doc said a little was ok. And, being linked to those unfortunate first trimester days of discomfort, I can’t bear to look at them anymore. But ben likes fresca. And so we pawned one off on him. Excellent! We’ll just have to invite him back again sometime soon to get rid of that other one.

I went to the doctor yesterday (another different doctor; this one who was very very nice and made me feel significantly better about my weight gain. Unlike the last one!). It was kinda annoying the way it all went down, actually. Yesterday was my diabetes test visit, which meant that it was going to be kinda long, since you have to drink this stuff and then wait an hour to be tested for gestational diabetes. In theory, you get there, drink the stuff, visit with the doctor in the interim, and then can leave after they draw blood again. Well, shortly after I was weighed and blood-pressured, the nurse announced to those of us waiting that Dr. Damrich had to go deliver a baby. SO I ended up pretty much sitting in a waiting room for a whole hour, getting diabetes tested and then sitting in another room and waiting about another 20 minutes before I saw the doc.

The real tragedy? I had actually gotten there about 20 minutes early, so I would have finished everything in a very timely fashion if not for the delivery. Oh well, go on you little baby. Be born with your bad self.

This has been really boring. My apologies. I just want to leave you with one thing: if you haven’t seen Children of Men, you really should. Matt and I rewatched it last night (we saw it in the theater a little over a year ago) and it’s really just an astounding piece of film. Honestly, well-worth checking out.

That’s all. Matt’s friend (and mine) Jason alerted us to this amazing news report last week. I just think this kid is the best thing I’ve ever seen. And I think the reporter’s a bit of a snotty B.

2008-02-04T17:31:00.000-08:00

Breaking (wind) News

In lieu of an actual blog (because I’m too lazy to write one), I’m going to share this new story that matt brought to my attention. I’m pretty sure you will agree that it’s better than anything I could come up with.

Middle school issues ban on intentional flatulence
By Holly S. Anderson
VillageSoup/Knox County Times Senior Reporter

CAMDEN (Feb 1): The Merriam Webster Dictionary definition for flatulence is brief: "flatus expelled through the anus." And while it's a natural bodily function, it seems some Camden-Rockport Middle School eighth-grade boys are taking it to new heights and making a game of seeing who can expel the loudest and grossest flatus.
Advertisement

According to this week's Fire Cracker school newsletter though, the joke's on the boys as the penalty for "intentional farting" is now a detention.

"Strange, but true, thanks to a bunch of 8th grade boys, intentional farting has been banned from CRMS," the newsletter said. "It started out as a funny joke and eventually turned into a game. This is the first rule at CRMS that prevents the use of natural bodily functions. The penalty for intentional farting is a detention, so keep it to yourself!"

According to a group of seventh-grade students milling around downtown following Friday's storm-related early release, the eighth-graders' escapades are well known in the school.

"They would do it in science class and other places," said Jordan Tyler. "It's a natural occurrence and we all do it 16 times a day."

When questioned where he learned that information, Tyler and the other students all said it was true, though they couldn't remember where they heard it.

One of the other students, Kyle Ruger, said the act by the boys was funny, but he had mixed feelings about whether it was appropriate.

Jordan Knowlton minced no words when she expressed how she felt, saying, "It's gross."

Remy LeVine said he was in the class when CRMS science teacher Brad LaRoche talked to all the eighth-grade boys about the issue, as well as the consequences.

Attempts to reach CRMS Principal Maria Libby Friday afternoon were unsuccessful and school Superintendent Patricia Hopkins said she had not heard anything about the issue or the alleged suspected result, though she did get a good chuckle out of the news.

2008-02-01T09:38:00.001-08:00

Rainbow + sigh x chocolate = Strawberry Lemon Pie

We-ell! I think the most important thing to discuss this morning is Lost. Oh yes! At last, at last, my first-run tv craving was satisfied. Lost is back and so excited were we that we didn’t even give our general 15 minute buffer before we started watching it. (This is another weird practice that tivo has gotten us in. we generally start watching programs at least 15 minutes after they begin so we can zoom through commercials. Disgusting excess, I know).

I have to say, I’m sufficiently tantalized and exciting about the upcoming season. For one, the flash-forwards were an excellent decision. The flashbacks were getting OLD. If I had to watch one more episode about kate’s lying, cheating heart or jack’s drinking, I was going to punch someone in the nose. (strangely, of the oft-backstoried characters, I found sawyer’s and locke’s usually pretty interesting. Though, hands-down eko probably has my favorite backstory. And they killed him. Nice). I think I was initially a little skeptical that they would be able to reveal the future without making the present totally obsolete feeling but now, seeing how they’re going to be all mysterious and dropping breadcrumbs in the future, I’m down with it. Though, matt told me they were still going to do some flashbacks. To that, I can only say that I hope they plumb the depths of some other characters instead of the same old, same old.

Lost viewers: thoughts, feelings? Not Lost viewers: I’m done now.

Yesterday I went to walmart and, surprisingly, it was a fairly uneventful adventure. In fact, I found an open (as in, no lines, no waiting) cashier. Holy cow! The one downside was that a few of my coupons were denied. I brought about 7 of them with me and totally dominated on using them only to have two of them thrust back in my face because I was supposed to buy two of the item. Blast! Still, I saved almost 7 dollars. That was pretty sweet.

Right, enough about coupons, the real point is candy. Say what you will about walmart (particularly our terrible one) but they have this one, very long, aisle that is all candy. And recently I had viewed a Unwrapped which featured the candy Almond Roca. A few things. 1) in these troubled television times, I’ve been watching unwrapped like nobody’s business. I’ve always liked it, but now, oh, it’s my lifeblood. 2) these candies, when they are produced look uncannily like turds. That awesome image in your mind, it should say something about the candy that when finished viewing its segment, all I could think about was Almond Roca and how I could get some. Remembering that walmart has the willy wonka of candy aisles, I swore to get some the next time I was there.

Sure enough, walmart came through. They had these obscure candies that come in a can. And they are GREAT. It’s essentially a nugget of toffee, coated in chocolate, then rolled in almonds. I can’t even get enough.

Those are really the big things. Oh! Guess what. Matt and I are going to a gymnastic meet tonight. I’m pretty pumped about it. For one, word on the street is that Alabama’s gymnastic team kicks A and takes names. And, dorkily enough, I’ve always really liked gymnastics. Always my favorite part of the Olympics (well, maybe that and swimming). Also, this will easily be the most exciting thing that matt and I have done since we’ve been down here. So yay, gymnastics! I’m so excited I put on my awesome t-shirt my big sister gave me. It reads “Does this baby make me look fat?”

It does.

This unfolds like a greek tragedy.

2008-01-31T08:37:00.001-08:00

Fighting the good fight

You know I’ve been rereading the harry potter books. Thus, you know I need a life. Well, I’ve sort of had to back off a little, because I’m lapping matt who, on my insistence, has been steadily working his way through the series since, oh, last spring or so. He’s on book six. I started again in November. I too am on book six. So, though we have two book marks in the book, I’m trying to give him a good head start.

All of that is to say, I had a dream last night where I had to fight voldemort. Not my coolest moment. What was really the worst was that a) it wasn’t actually about voldemort. I had to fight a wewe (look it up kids! http://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=wewe) who had a bald cat as the last step before fighting the man himself and b) when I woke up to visit the ladies room, I was totally, totally spooked. About a fictional character. Whom I had had a dream about.

I reiterate, not my coolest moment.

This morning, instead of walking like I do, I did my Shiva Rea prenatal yoga dvd. I non sequitur-ed to matt that I thought she probably took the name “shiva” to be more yoga-ish. Matt, nerdlinger that he is, immediately informed me that shiva was the goddess of destruction. Unexpected from someone who tells me to let my heart warmth bloom like a lotus flower.

As I casually mentioned, I’ve been doing a little walking this week. I’ve been traversing to the local (ish) park, which is alright. It’s not quite as nerdy as walking around the apartment complex. I rock my ipod shuffle and I take off like a fat lady trying to move her stuff. Yesterday, to a somewhat problematic extent, I was really feeling my music. The first song that came on was Paul McCartney singing Silly Love Songs. I love that mess! So I started moving. At quite a clip. And I’ll reiterate, I’m pretty chubby. I think I’m rocking about an extra 25 pounds from my normal weight. Still, I would take it down a notch when the next song came on.

Only it was Andrew W. K. singing She Is Beautiful. It’s a pretty exciting song and I got to thinking how I would make a slideshow of baby pictures to this great song and I kept on shaking my tail feathers. Before I knew it, I was three-quarters of the way around this very, very expansive trail and…I was in a fair amount of leg pain.

After this point, I took the rest of the 1 ¼ laps at a very, very mild stroll.

So today’s looking like it’ll be exciting. I have a trip planned for the world’s worst walmart. I know I always say it, but I can still sense that you don’t believe that anyone walmart can hold this distinction. I assure you. This one does. In fact, matt and I were there on, hmm, Monday I think, and while we were all set up to have a quick run through the express lane, the older lady in front of us was going on at length about whether or not some children were hers (I think she must have been talking about grandchildren). The gist of the sordid tale was that somebody did somebody wrong. It went on a good five minutes after she was done checking out. Imagine my surprise when she finally left and said to the cashier, “well, it was good to meet you.” uh huh. Ok.

Oh hey, mama got a haircut. It’s not dramatically different, but it kinda is, in the sense that my hair has had some style cut into it. It’s been july since I’ve gotten a haircut. July! Think of that! So I feel like a pretty pretty princess right now. And, get this, my husband, who is definitely a man, has more than twice complimented me on how nice he thinks my hair looks. It’s a Christmas miracle.

One last bit of news. On the same day of the successful haircut, I also went and signed some papers. Some papers that mean matt and I are out of this complex and, indeed, out of this town. That’s right kids, we’re moving back to the ‘ham officially. Hurrah! Matt’s job has sort of taken on more of a tech support role, so he’s not needed to be on campus quite so much and we’re always, always going up to Birmingham and with the baby coming…it seemed the thing to do. So we’ll be moving back at the beginning of march. If you’re a frequent reader you probably won’t be surprised to hear that I am really, really ok with leaving this town.

Moving, however, will be a challenge, I’m sure.

Sometimes people having too much time on their hands can yield really great stuff.

2008-01-28T12:06:00.000-08:00

Surf guitars leave scars

I am writing you today at the very unorthodox time of 1:25. I mean, it’s in the afternoon, so I guess it’s not that weird of a time, but it is for me. As a rule, I try to knock out the blog in the earlier part of the day, usually pre-shower and primping (such as it is; I’m just a strangely-shaped kid with nowhere to go). Today, however, I write to you with my hair did, my clothes on (again, such as it is; I’m wearing some sweatpant Capri things and a t-shirt that is decidedly not built for a woman great with child), and a full, full belly. Matt had to go to a press conference this morning and, playing the I’m-pregnant-get-me-food card (which I haven’t done too much as yet), I gave him a credit card and detailed instructions on what to get on my Art Vandelay at Moes.

It’s been a good morning.

SO! Here’s a rough run-down of the morning. Firstly, I slept entirely too much. Matt was trying to lovingly close the bedroom door so that I could sleep another four hours when he woke me up. Which was just as well, since I had slept for about 10 hours or so (disgraceful, I know). I awoke, got right on the orange train (loving on the oranges. I average at least two every morning), and parked it on the (uncomfortable) couch. Then matt and I watched what has quickly become my favorite food network show, Jamie at Home. There’s just something about those English people. I love them. It’s a really fun-ly edited show, the host is great, and the food is all fresh and delicious looking. I just love it. And, let’s be honest, the first time I watched it, it was snowing. It’s so magical!

Shortly thereafter, I got my pregnant A moving and went to a nearby (kinda scary) park and walked my large-in-charge-marge butt around the track a few times. I was enjoying some tunes on my Itunes. The point of this, it should be noted, is to get you jazzed. A catchy song comes on, it inspires you to get your junk moving. The thing is, this happened a few times, and my junk being so much more copious than usual, I found that these music-inspired bursts of speed usually resulted in my being about ready to lay out on the side of the road. It started with Me and Julio Down by the Schoolyard (a little more upbeat than you might expect) and then I was about ready to head towards the light when Andrew W.K’s Party Til You Puke came on. Suffice it to say, I almost did party til I puked and I feel I earned that burrito. And all those chips. Hmm. Maybe not.

In other news, the writer’s strike persists and matt and I are plumbing the depths of our DVD collection to find something (anything!) to watch. We watched a little X-Files (I just can’t really get into it more than one episode at a time. It’s alright, but not great. Other than the duchov!) Then I pulled down the first season of arrested development. I’m crazy about that show. I’ve seen most of the episodes multiple times, but it’s just endlessly watchable. We did get some Netflix on Saturday and we watched Down by Law (a fairly slow Jim Jarmusch film) and the first disc of My So-Called Life.

Now, I’ll be honest here, while My So-Called Life is pretty engaging, I’m not, as yet, convinced of it’s brilliance, as are most people. Granted, we’ve only watched three episodes, so it could pick up, but as of right now, Freaks and Geeks, hands-down is the best high school program for my money, thanks.

In addition, matt and I caught an early showing of There Will Be Blood on Friday. Holy craps, gang, this is a GREAT movie. I can’t quite figure out why it’s so undeniably enjoyable, but it definitely. Probably has a lot to do with some incendiary performances. It really, really should win best picture. It’s just so epic and engaging. I can’t shake the experience of seeing it, still.

In not great movie news, matt made me watch The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly yesterday night. This was an exercise based in the belief (which I corroborate) that women just don’t like Westerns. We touched on this on one of Ben’s radio shows. I try to be open minded when it comes to film but, with few exceptions, I’m just not interested when it comes to westerns. I thought 3:10 to Yuma was pretty great and I really enjoyed Deadwood (oh yes, I finished the first season of it) but it could be argued that they were both very character-heavy exercises. This good, bad, and ugly business was just a three-hour exercise in BORING. I know it’s important, I know I should appreciate it, but I just couldn’t. The plot is pretty simple, the characters are pretty much not developed at all yet…it was THREE HOURS LONG. I think matt was about ready to kill me by the end because of my belly-aching. But that which was supposed to change my mind about Westerns has merely succeeded in making me never, ever want to see another one. I don’t mean to be so crabby, but, good grief, three hours of bandits, flies, guns, and dust. Yech.

I will give it that the soundtrack is pretty awesome. But here, you be the judge. Oh, spoiler alert, I suppose, since this is sort of the climax of the movie, but tell me this isn’t just a little excessive. I had, at this point, watched about 175 minutes of this. And this is how long it takes them to draw their guns. Yeesh.

2008-01-24T07:05:00.001-08:00

Say it ain’t so

Thanks to my friend Tim’s myspace page, I know have that Weezer song looping in my head.

Sorry I didn’t write yesterday. Whatev, I do what I want!

I promised I had some other things to talk about. Here is what is written on my scrap piece of paper: Lost, Eagle vs. Shark, Deadwood, Oscar Noms, Potstickers. I will add Oranges and Blizzard.

Right, so I think I sort of touched on Lost. I just want to say, I am really excited about it starting. Also, I am really disappointed because it took matt and I until Wednesday of this week to realize it isn’t starting until next week. Blast and curses.

(here’s something: this stinking writers’ strike has forced me to watch more than a healthy amount of food network, which I already watch a lot of, and, this is the new one, the history channel. Yesterday, as I ate an orange—ok, two—I was watching a program about the gangs of five points. Edgy.)

Right, Eagle vs. Shark. This weekend, matt and I watched this peculiar little movie. It stars Jemaine Clement from Flight of the Conchords, which is why we even heard of it (yay, netflix!). Anyways, it’s this weird little Australian movie about these weird little Australian people. It’s like a slightly more grown-up napoleon dynamite. But…not as funny and kind of moving. Anyways, it was definitely weird, but I liked it.

Speaking of things I like, deadwood is one of them. This has stunned and horrified and, I think in a little way, delighted matt. I have endured years of him telling me what a good show it was but then immediately back-peddling that he didn’t think I could ever watch it. Well, writers’ strike strikes again and I was desperate so we watched the pilot. And we have, in the last few days, about finished up the first season. It’s definitely coarse, that’s for sure. I mean, a great deal of the action happens in brothels. And people are effing and jeffing left, right, and center. But the characters and stories are just super. It’s extremely engaging programming. Just not for the faint of heart.

The oscar nominations are pretty pleasing this year, though I have to say I’m fairly stunned that juno got a best picture nomination. I don’t think it will win and I’m not totally sure that it needed to be up for the big one but good for it anyways. I’m really glad that Michael Clayton got as many noms as it did. They just re-released it, I think, so if you didn’t see it the first time around, I heartily recommend it. It’s a taut thriller (sort of) with some excellent performances. I’m a little cheesed that Tommy Lee Jones was nominated for In the Valley of Elah. He was good and all, but that was the wrong movie. He should have gotten the nom for No Country for Old Men. And, with that said, I think that No Country will take the big cheese and There Will Be Blood will get director.

Did Jennifer Garner get nominated? If so, she needs to get that one. Although, if memory serves, supporting actress is a pretty loaded field.

And those are my oscar thoughts.

I made potstickers the other night. From scratch. I mean, I didn’t make the wonton wrappers, but I made everything else. Be impressed. It was quite the feat.

Matt and I stopped by my parents house again yesterday so that he could meet the puppy and, let’s be honest, so I could see her again. I can report that she’s still as cute as can be. She was kinda having a spazz attack when we first got there (which is still amazingly cute) but by the time we left, she was a little puddle of sweetness , sleeping on everyone and just forcing us to love her. So yes, it was a good visit.

It was also a good visit because I got to see tash, who I haven’t since Christmas. And also, mom and dad had received some fancy oranges in the mail and for some ungodly reason, my parents don’t like oranges. I eat about 10 oranges a day and was only too happy to take some off their hands. Puppy, sister, and oranges. Not too bad.

After that, matt and I went to his parents house and enjoyed an enormous dinner and some chocolate dipped strawberries for dessert. And then, on the way home, I forced matt to take me through the DQ drive-thru so I could get an oreo blizzard.

Pregnancy be not proud.

2008-01-22T09:45:00.001-08:00

They called it…

You may be wondering who that gigantic human is and why he’s holding a stuffed ewok. Well, the human is actually normal-sized (ok, he did get the tall genes), and the ewok is none other than the cutest dog that the world has ever seen. That’s tater, my mom’s new pup. She’s a schnauzer-poodle mix, which, I guess, makes her a schnoodle. (though, and I don’t know how mom didn’t find this out for certain, there’s a chance that her mom may have been a cocker spaniel-poodle mix. Which would maybe make her a cock-a-schnoodle-doo?) The point is, she’s cute as all get out. She was a the runt of her litter and she weighs a cool pound and a half. That’s right, she’s smaller than the bag of frozen mixed vegetables that I have in my freezer. And a lot, a lot cuter.

Mom got her on Friday evening and I spent most of the weekend dying to meet her. The pictures that mom had sent me (and I had dutifully squealed over) did no justice to the size of her. That’s why I decided to open with this image of tim. To give you a sense of scale. Here, now, is a sense of her cute little puppy dog face:

I don’t think I have to tell you. I am totally and completely smitten. As we all are. And as you should be too.

Right, so that explains why I didn’t write yesterday. As for all of last week…um, I don’t really have an excuse. Sorry about that.

This week in baby news (I know you were dying to hear), I have lost the ability to get out of a chair. Or bed. Or any quasi-prone position. It’s like my stomach muscles have just given up. I either have to hoist myself up using the (negligible) strength of my arms or, more often, depend upon the kindness and upper body strength of my husband. I need one of those things from Jurassic park. You know the harness thing that they lowered the goat into the t-rex cage with? That would be helpful. Needless to say, matt has found my newfound immobility quiet amusing. He’s likened me to an overturned turtle and a newborn who can only shaker their arms and legs.

Loving and supporting, that one is.

Also, the afternoon obsession with the Reese’s Cup Sonic Blast persists. (I discovered this weekend, that I have spent my whole life mispronouncing the candy, calling them reesEE’s cups. I don’t know how this happened. I know that’s incorrect and I pronounce reese’s pieces right, but for some reason in cup form I get all long E on their A). I have found that, a) it’s totally worth getting it without whipped cream as you get a substantial supplement of ice cream, that way and b) while it’s worth requesting extra reese’s cups, they will definitely charge you an insulting extra dollar. Except the time that I got another pregnant lady taking my order. She didn’t charge me and totally loaded it up right. Love her!

Friday night, matt and I saw Cloverfield. It was pretty good stuff. It definitely gave me a headache and there were some definite lapses in reason in some of the plot points, but it was fun for a Friday night. However, apparently there was a Lost-like subtlety at the end which, upon learning about it, I was kinda mystified. I didn’t notice it at all, and while it was definitely a cool touch, I wonder if anyone even noticed it? That kind of thing works for Lost, where viewers will definitely, obsessively, rewind and pause their DVRs to analyze it to a nub. But a movie? That’s asking a lot.

Speaking of! Lost! Matt and I just finished watching Season 3 on DVD. I’m very excited about the upcoming season. In part because the Writer’s strike continues to drag on but also because that was one heck of a finale last season. A lot of exciting stuff seems poised to happen.

I think I’ll wrap this up today. It’s pretty long. I’ve got lots more to say, but I guess it’s for another blog. Hmm, this just turned very Mr. Rogers. “you’ll have things you’ll want to talk about/ I will too.”

2008-01-14T11:58:00.001-08:00

Moon Puddle

I was awakened this morning by a strange man looming over me. Granted, the man was my husband and I mean “strange” as in “you’re seeing things again.” He was stopping me just short of sleeping 11 hours. Eleven! This is the same woman who, not for lack of trying, would find that on days when she got to “sleep in” she could only sleep until about 7:30. It’s disgraceful. Say what you will about a pregnant lady needing sleep, but sleeping from 11 to 10 is just obscene.

Here’s another fun thing I discovered this weekend. While sitting on the couch*, which I did a lot of on this laziest of weekends, matt informed me of an aberration in my belly button. What had always been a cavernous wasteland ripe for the depositing of lint has become little more than a plastic paddle pool shallow enough for a two year old. What a disgrace! What was once a twisted web of wrinkles has sort of…flattened out due to my hideous girth. It’s not an outie, but it’s getting there.

*I expected many things to become my enemy in this time of gestation. My body,my appetite, and my temperament have all turned on me. But I never expected my couch to become a sworn enemy. Obviously, despite the writers’ strike (will it never end?!?) I still park it a lot on the couch. For one, there’re not many other places to park it in our apartment. For another, it’s always been a comfortable spot for me to sit. I sit, all folded up, in the crook of one corner. Well, I used to. Since I have become an enormous human, the only way that I can even tolerate the couch is to pull the coffee table near me, put my feet up, and cram a pillow behind me. Even that eventually gets uncomfortable.

In other news, matt and I are zipping through Lost, season 3. As per usual, it’s much more enjoyable watching it without commercial interruption and without a week’s break (or more) in between each viewing. The new season starts at the end of the month and we thought we’d be hard pressed to get it all watched. Not by a long shot. We’ve already beat netflix. In fact, sadly, we finished the third disc on Friday, so it was a lost-less weekend. In fact, I don’t think we’ll get a new until tomorrow at the earliest. So, who knows, it could still maybe be a race to the finish line.

Matt’s sister Lauren just swung by this morning. After I tried to make things look decent in a hurry, she arrived and presented me with a “will you be my bridesmaid?” cookie and cuteness. I didn’t do much in the way of cuteness with my bridesmaids. It was lovely and I accepted. It was only as she was about to leave that I realized, “oh boo. I’m going to be a bridesmatron.” That’s very unfortunate. But I will be looking like a beast of burden probably since I will have given birth by then. I have a hunch that my girlish figure will just hold on to these extra 30 pounds. Oh boy.

Anyways, I got over the sadness of being a matron by eating the fancy cookie in its entirety. It was GOOD!

The Final Sequence of Sweeney Todd is playing in my ear. Pretty grim stuff. And 12 minutes long. I’ll tell you, I think the movie was a little robbed with the chorus being left out. They provided some pretty creepy atmosphere.

Alright then, I don’t have much else to say. I hope you all are having a fabulous Monday.

2008-01-11T08:09:00.001-08:00

Back to Black

Alrighty, doc brown, fatty mcpregnant has walked two days in a row now, so…there. I have enjoyed the luxurious route that is walking a few laps around the parking lot. I know, it sounds kind of pathetic, and it sort of is, but bear in mind a) it’s a big apartment complex b) I haven’t really exercised in a long, long time, and c) this wagon I’m draggin has about 20 extra pounds on it. That means simple tasks like getting out of a couch (that’s right; I said “out.” You’ll understand when you’re older and fatter) become a highly challenging aerobic activity. So I’m pleased that I drag my wagon anywhere.

Though, I have to say, I do feel a little better about life after a morning constitutional. Just generally. My body feels better. Damn you, dr. correctness!

That said, yesterday, after beginning my stringent exercise routine, I was dismayed when matt and I had to quasi-run from our car to the radio station. We did Reeling, our friend ben’s movie radio show (I’ll put a link at the end of the blog), and we have, anytime I’ve been there, always done the show on Sunday and thus enjoyed parking freedom. Not so on a Thursday. So we had to park about a mile away, it started raining, and matt wanted to book it. I tried to remind him gently that, not only was I a pregnant woman, I was also a pregnant woman who had already walked more that day than the rest of my pregnancy combined. The result was that we showed up a few minutes late and pretty drenched.

So, enough about my ambulation. What else can I tell you? besides the radio show, I pretty much did a lot of nothing yesterday. Which means I’ve got to do a lot today to make up for it. So look out, there’s gonna be a story written about Moonpies (I’m a respectable writer, after all), call some folks about apartments (with the imminent baby, we’ve got to do an upgrade), and pick out my wedding photos. I know! I’m woefully behind on this. My excuse is that reliving that day is somewhat traumatic still. The day itself wasn’t that bad, but the, oh, 8 months leading up to it were pretty stinking upsetting. I’ve picked out my hundred for proofs, now I have to pick out another 70 for the book. I’m not that into pictures of myself, so it’s getting a little old.

Oh, just in case you were wondering, today’s title refers not to crazy Amy Winehouse’s second album, but to my husband’s coffee order this morning. He made the coffee so, in the spirit of turnabout being fair play, I offered to get him his cuppa. Since I have a tendency to make my coffee vaguely the color of a brown egg and about the flavor of coffee ice cream, I always check his specs. He told me just a minimum of cream and sugar, that he was kinda getting “back to black.” He’s so cool and he doesn’t even know it.

Right, the promised radio link. Amongst other nerdy topics, we discuss the kinda-cancelled golden globes, new releases, both in the cinemas and on dvd, and do a little review of juno. If you’ve got an hour and a need for nerdiness, this is the program for you.

http://www.thecapstone.ua.edu/Podcast/reelingjuno.mp3

And now, a little video for you. You know I can’t get enough of Michael Cera and I’m pretty delighted by Zach Galifinakis (sorry about the spelling, zachy!) so hopefully you’ll enjoy it to.

2008-01-09T08:48:00.001-08:00

Store-bought Woman

Yesterday morning, when I awoke at the buttcrack of dawn (a side of dawn I haven’t seen in sometime), I slapped my alarm clock in great dismay. I told matt, “dang it! I was right in the middle of singing Cracklin’ Rosie! Stupid alarm.” This was true and I did preceed from where the alarm clock had totally cut me off. I know that the sleeping guy next to me really appreciated that.

The reason for buttcrack awakenings was that I had a doctor’s appointment. Somehow I got it in my head that it would be easier to find parking first thing in the morning at my bustling health care provider’s. So I set my appointment for 9. But, you’ll recall, I live an hour away. And I needed to pick up a (slightly illegal) parking pass from my mom so I wouldn’t have to pay for parking. And, let’s be serious, I needed to get a breakfast beverage. So my departure time was about 7:15. And, as my hair needed a washing, drying, and “fixing,” it was a very early morning indeed.

I’m happy to say, however, that I reached my doc’s appointment just about on time. Go team! But I received a little unpleasant news once there: I am, in the words of gaston, roughly the size of a barge. I mean, I sort of knew, but when my doctor (actually not my doctor; I’m rotating to meet the other practitioners these days), said that my baby was about a pound and a half (go on, girl!), I asked where the other ton of weight that I had put on came from. He replied, “you’ve gained 7 pounds.” My eye’s bulged out in wonder. There’s no way… “This month.” Ohhh. If this was I Love Lucy, I would make that mug face at the camera right now and nasal out a big “eeeeeeeeew.” He then proceeded to tell me, kinda cruelly, that I should only be gaining about 3 ½ pound a month. Yipes.

So if you need me, I’ll be floating through a prenatal water aerobics class and eating some celery.

Yesterday also marked the first time I got to take my versa on a big trip. I’m happy to report that it was quite the pleasure cruise. Incidentally, one of there big bragging points is a lot of headroom. Let me tell you: you don’t realized how claustrophobic a car feels until you’re in one that affords you lots of headspace. It’s quite pleasant.

I ate some pizza combos in it, so I think we’re officially a couple, me and my car.

I MEAN! I ate some apple slices in it.

In these troubled times, I think it’s important that we all do our part to raise social consciousness. That’s why I hand selected this important message.

2008-01-07T06:58:00.001-08:00

Cottage living

(a little note: I named this blog cheekily, but it should be mentioned that I love the magazine Cottage Living. Go on, southern progress).

I’ve been feeling very much like an adult lately. Because I’m married? Nah. Because I pay bills? Nah. Because I am great with child? You would think so, but nah. Primarily, it’s because I’ve been eating cottage cheese.

Cottage cheese with pineapple, to be precise.

It all started when my family went to PA. The not-continental breakfast at the hotel had a delicious selection of fruits and, there, right next to it, in a bowl atop a bed of ice, was cottage cheese. I had forgotten about that curdled variety of cheese and how delicious it was under a heap of fruit.

So when I got home, I purchased a quart and preceeded to enjoy it with canned pineapple. Well, look, I’m no hotel breakfast buffet.

I think part of the reason it makes me feel smug is that it seems like a “healthy” thing to eat. Now, I would hazard to guess that it’s probably not, but there’s protein in the cottage and pineapple is fruit so, you do the math.

It has had me pondering why it’s named that, though. Are you more prone to eat it if you live in a cottage? I wish I lived in a cottage, if that means anything…

All that said, I’m planning on a bowl of dry Post Frosted Mini Wheats for breakfast. Decidedly not mature.

Matt and I saw Juno this weekend. I went into it with a little chip on my shoulder. There’s just been so much hype around it, I went in with the attitude, “this better be awesome or else I’ll be very disappointed.”

I think I can safely say, after a few bumps in the beginning (it was hyperaware of being “cool”) it did end up being a pretty great movie. I was most surprised by Jennifer Garner’s performance. I have generally disliked her based, primarily, on 13 going on 30, but she put in my favorite performance in the whole movie. Michael Cera was, of course, delightful. And JK Simmons and Alison Janney were really great as the parents. I can recommend it. It’s a little coarse though. Don’t bring your mom. She would probably not like it.

Oh, speaking of Alison Janney, matt and I finally finished The West Wing last night. I honestly think we started watching it before the wedding maybe. That’s a buttload of aaron sorkin for those keeping track at home, but it wrapped up very nicely and it was, for the most part, an extremely enjoyable experience. But seven seasons of an hour-long drama? You can understand why I am a little relieved to have this monkey off my back. Now our netflix task is to muscle through Lost season 3 before the end of the month. I have faith that we can do it.

Incidentally, I’m OVER this writers’ strike. Last night, in an act of desperation, matt put on American Gladiators because, even our tivo has kind of ground to a halt and we often find ourselves with nothing to watch. I can honestly say, American gladiators was some of the worst tripe I’ve ever seen. Yikes. What is this world coming to?

Look, it’s my buddy danny Wallace! Why don’t we do commercials like this over here? Charming, good-natured and for a tiny, tiny car.

2008-01-03T09:09:00.000-08:00

Worst Pies in London

A little epilogue from yesterday’s blog: The shouting continued and, eventually, our neighbor was led off in handcuffs. The circumstances were bizarre. First some plainclothes somebodies showed up and then the police…and it was the plainclothes folks who led him off. Bounty hunters? DEA agents? We’re not sure.

But, plop plop fizz fizz, what a relief it is that he stomped back up the stairs last night and slammed the door. He’s back.

Hurrah.

So, the title. Matt and I finally, finally saw Sweeney todd. It’s one of the few musicals I can get him excited about. And actually, what really hooked him was watching a film of the stage version starring Angela Lansbury. Since then, he’s about worn out my soundtrack and we were both very, very excited at the prospect of this film.

So why did it take us so long to see it? It did. That’s that.

My thoughts, feelings, and emotions? I liked it. It was significantly trimmed down, which it has to be to fit on screen, but I thought it was a very likeable adaptation. Johnny Depp was quite good, though his voice often swerved into pop territory. The boy who played Anthony looked like the love child of keirra knightly and zooey from the west wing, but he had a nice voice so we’ll forgive him his girly looks. Joanna was, whatever. She’s always been a sort of boring role. She had a tiny face and looked like Kirsten dunst though, so that was weird. Pairing up as Beedle Bamford and the terrible judge Turpin was Wormtail and Snape. Oh sure, I know they have real names but let’s be honest, they are living in a harry potter world. Sascha Baron Cohen made a nice turn as Perelli, even getting a nice bit of drama to play out before his untimely death. The little boy who played toby was pretty good.

The weak point, I’m sorry to say, was Helena Bonham carter. I like her a lot as an actress (I suffered through that 90s version of Frankenstein and was rewarded for my efforts by a glorious turn from her in the last half hour). But as mrs lovitts? She didn’t really bring it, vocally. She acted it fine, but mrs lovitts’ songs are nothing if not a cry for someone to act the hell and character the pants off of them. She kinda lazed through the songs with a drawling accent. It just didn’t bring the energy, pop, and annoyance I need from my mrs. lovitts.

An awful lot of songs were chopped, but again, I will accept this, because it’s a film and it still worked. Some of the cuts are ones that are often made in the stage version too.

Oh, but I did miss the chorus. Not just because I was in the chorus (I rocked that mop cap hard). I missed it, primarily in the beginning and end of the show when they sing the ballad of Sweeney todd. It’s also interjected throughout the play. I give the movie credit for harkening to it with instrumental cues, but, surely, they could have popped it over the opening credits, at least. Oh well. It was probably wise to leave it off the end. Because, my goodness, that was a solidly bleak final shot.

Ok, sorry, there was maybe one reader who appreciated that diatribe. You can take the girl out of the musical theater but you can’t take the blah blah.

In other news, after our neighbor was arrested (or whatever) yesterday, I went to target. It was a regular delight. Except that I experienced what I took to calling “pregnancy head” which is akin to medicine head. I was sort of light-headed and dumb feeling. I was moving kinda slowly and, had I been trying to have a conversation, I surely would have failed. Very bizarre phenomenon.

On the plus side, I found a 4 dollar maternity t-shirt. Hurrah! I plan to wear it today.

Yeah, it’s 11 and I’m not dressed yet. I slept until 9:15. I was actually awoken by matt laughing with relief because I had stirred in my bed. He came in to check my breathing. It’s really unusual for me to sleep this much. But these days, if you clear the way for me, I will sleep a solid 10 hours without breaking a sweat. That’s just too much sleep.

Anyways, I think I’ve said enough for the day. I have stories about glass artists, goo goos, and moon pies to write so, as you can probably tell, it’s a pretty big day.

Here’s a little movie that matt shared in a facebook note and I am stealing from him. It was in one of the last episodes of Flight of the Conchords and oh, how we laughed.

2008-01-02T07:33:00.001-08:00

The beginning of the rest of my life

Well, it’s the beginning of my reign as a free woman. It might be a short reign. I do, after all, probably need to find a little something to do with myself. But here it is, a Wednesday, smack in the middle of the week, and I woke up at my leisure and am enjoying the time and inclination to write a blog.

Now, I say I woke up at my leisure. That’s not entirely true. After a minor wake up around 6:30, I went back to sleep and enjoyed almost a full hour and a half of sleep. Then I was rudely awakened by the sound of someone hammering a door. With their fist. It was a sound that persisted. And, as I came to, I realized it was a sound that was accompanied with a string of obscenities, some 4 miles long.

Ah yes. Our neighbor.

The man had been locked out of his apartment apparently wearing nothing but his pants. The mantra which he was repeating at the top of his lungs while beating on the door went a little something like this: “OPEN THE DOOR! OPEN THE MOTHER EFFING DOOR, MOTHER EFFER! MOTHER EF, C*** SUCKER, OPEN THE MOTHER EFFING DOOR. I’M GOING TO FREEZE. OPEN THE MOTHER EFFING DOOR, MOTHER EFFER. YOU CAN EITHER OPEN THIS DOOR OR NOT. OPEN THE EFFING DOOR.”

I assure you, I’ve made him more erudite than is strictly necessary. Primarily, he was just stringing ef and mother effer together at a patter that would make the micro machine guy jealous. This went on for twenty minutes.

This is not, in a typical Francesca fashion, an exaggeration. I was awakened a few minutes before 8 and I believe it was 8:18 when he finally was let in.

Now, and if you need a refresher you can visit the caps portion of this blog, I find myself wondering why the girl didn’t want him to come back in. I assure you, his tirade made me nothing short of giddy with excitement that he is my neighbor. I think I’m going to bake him a cake.

So that was fun. I’m looking forward to filling the day with domestic pursuits, including, but not limited to, going grocery shopping and going to the bank. Hurrah!

Oh, also, I have a new car. Nice how these things work out. I quit my job and we have to pick up a car payment. But we got a fairly good deal and while the car is not particularly elaborate, it’s safe, it drives well and it’s not my ford out-of-focus. So I’m pretty stinking happy about it.

My family, matt and myself went to PA last weekend. It was a nice trip though exceedingly exhausting. I think traveling by air, however, took it’s toll on my pregnant body. I was so sore for no apparent reason. My legs were hurting the entire weekend and my back has started feeling the bads. And, I don’t know if it’s the change in altitude or what, but my stomach has exploded. I feel approximately the size of our mother effing neighbors creepy A 12-seater van.

Alright, last thing. After many recommendations (thank you, Jessica) and being aware of them peripherally, matt and I finally netflixed the first season of Flight of the Conchords. Holy cow. To say that we have fallen in love would be an understatement. We not only rewatched a number of the musical sequences, we’ve taken to speaking new Zealand-ese to each other and serenading one another with some of their choicest selections. (I personally enjoy the mermaid song and If You’re Into It.) I heartily recommend it. They’re like tenacious D, but less raunchy and the mighty boosh, but less random.

There it is, friends. I hope to be blogging a little more regularly.

Enjoy this. I think you will. There’s a little language.

Incidentally, she’s locked him out again. And he’s doing exactly the same thing again.

2007-12-16T19:46:00.000-08:00

Haps

So, golly, I’ve done a bad job keeping up with my blog. I apologize. But, you should know, after Christmas, I just might do a better job. As of approximately 1:00 on December 24, I will no longer be a chocolateer. Yep, I did the walk-out! Well, obviously not quite a walk-out since I’m still going to be there for another week (a very, very awkward filled week, no doubt.) But there were many factors at play and I think I’m not very popular there, but sometimes you got to do what you got to do. I’m sort of half-heartedly looking for other part-time work, but since the freelance has been rolling in, we felt it was financially viable to give it the boot and, at the end of the day, more important for me to be able to put more time and energy into the writing, which is where the bacon is, anyways. Also, post-baby, freelancing is a great job to have.

Which reminds me, have I mentioned we’re having a girl? I don’t think I’ve written since that discover. Very exciting stuff. I thought it was going to be a boy, but I thought it so much that I was almost certain that, just because life works like this sometimes, I was wrong. And I was. Which, if you have strong suspicions you’re wrong, does that make you right? Discuss.

Anyways, my hat is off to the folks who don’t find out, but as a person who likes to be as prepared as possible, this was what had to happen. It’s not even about buying little clothes and stuff, whatever, put my girl in green! It’s really a matter of being mentally prepared. Plus, knowing the gender has already made things feel a lot more real to me. And, admittedly, it’s made me a lot more prone to look at moms and their daughters when I’m out shopping with a little starry-eyed expression on my face. Which is why it’s good I don’t shop much. That’s pretty creepy of me.

What else, what else. Matt and I saw I Am Legend Friday night. It was pretty good. I’d maybe give it 3 stars out of four. It very effectively created a mood and I’m still thinking about it a few days later, but I think it sort of started out strong and ended with something of a whimper. I don’t know, my judgement may be clouded by our friend phil, who ended up sitting behind us at the theater. He reviews movies for the student paper. His snap judgement was fairly harsh and he went on to tell us all about the book upon which the movie was based. Now that sounded like some good shift. So I think knowing what it could have been shaded the overall experience, in the end.

So that’s that.

My siblings are all gathering ‘round the fire for Christmas which is fun. Tash and tim are back for Christmas break. Actually, tash is home indefinitely. She’s student teaching next semester, so she’s back living with my parents which is good times. It’s a lot easier for matt and I to get to Birmingham than Auburn. Anyways, I’m really looking forward to this Christmas because, starting Christmas eve, it’ll be pretty much all family, all the time for Matt and i. Which is actually a good thing. Packing, on the other hand, will be a female dog. Oh well. Everyone will get to see a parade of my pregnant woman clothes.

Incidentally, a word about maternity clothes. These days, the idea is to wear stretchy materials that show off your “bump.” I really hate it when people call it that. That’s the last time you’ll ever read it on this blog. Well, the thing is, even though I’m at 5 months, I don’t have much of a bump yet. In fact, counter-intuitive to every other experience in my life, I haven’t even gained that much weight. According to my doctor, only 11 pounds. But everything has moved around and regular clothes don’t fit anymore, so I have to rock the maternity clothes hard-core. The problem is, I don’t look all that pregnant. So, I’m walking around in these stretchy clothes looking like a chubby girl with a proclivity for showing off my fats.

All that said, comfort reigns supreme these days, so I’ll live.

And that’s about it. If you’re the praying type, pray that I make it through this horribly awkward week at work. I live in fear.

Here’s something great tasha shared with me.

2007-12-09T18:42:00.001-08:00

In the lane

So early last week, I stopped into our neighborhood walmart. It’s an abomination. I believe I’ve mentioned that before. But I was desperate. I’m not proud, but the entire point of the outing was to buy no less than four (4) bags of my favorite pretzels. They are only available at walmart. Life is cruel sometimes.

So I stopped in after work. To my chagrin, having not perused a walmart in awhile, I was wowed by its low prices and wide selections. Except I couldn’t find Gushers if my life depended on it. I married a mere boy and he loves, more than anything, a synthetic fruit snack. In my quest for the gushers, I went up and down, up and down a few times. I almost spent my savings in the candy section. It was so expansive! They had so many candies! (I actually didn’t buy any; I can be frugal when I need to be). But I did find something else that I absolutely did buy.

It’s happening. Candy Cane Lane is back.

I like a cup of tea now and then, but after I first tried this variety, it’s hard to settle for a simple green or earl grey. Celestial Seasonings makes a seasonal tea called Candy Cane Lane. It’s magnificent. I’ve drunk about 10 mugs of it since last Monday. It’s flavors are, primarily, peppermint and vanilla, but there are notes of blackberry and it’s based in a green tea. It’s so so good. And it’s only available at Christmas time. And, it appears, at walmart.

Why, God? Why?

You should get some sometime, is my point. It’s really great.

In other news, I have a stalker. It’s the cat, Skinny. She’s a pretty little stray who, apparently, has come to rely on my daily scoop of food. I know this because I have now twice opened the blinds in the morning to find her out on the porch staring into my eyes, willing me to give her some food. Which I do. She’s really adorable. And skinny. But, honestly, the first time, I about peed my pants. She’s extremely skittish and has never, ever come within 100 feet of me. So it was shocking to open a window and see her about 2 feet away, not breaking a stare at me. Then, when I open the door to feed her, she’s disappeared, though only about halfway down the steps. I see her little head poke out and look at me. Then, once I’ve gone back inside, she comes and eats her food.

This morning was especially alarming because she wasn’t there when I opened the blinds in the main room. It was when I opened the bedroom blinds. Now, the porch doesn’t extend to that window, so she was sitting on the corner of the porch, angled towards the window, so that when I looked out, there she was. Staring me down.

Creepy, a little. Really, what’s more creepy, is that I thought, “maybe she’s an animagus, like professor mcgonagel (sp) or Sirius black.” Sad.

Fine, I admit it. I’m reading the series again. Get off my back.

Good news! We find out the gender of the baby on Tuesday. I’m very excited about this. It will make planning and everything feel a little more real. Not that you can, really, plan for a baby. Basically, now I’ll know what my imaginary baby in the daydreams will be wearing. Hm, is that weird?

I think that about does it. Sorry this is kinda lame. I’m out of practice. And, as it is, I’m writing this bad boy on a Sunday night. Because the mornings, they’re just not happening.

Off to enjoy some hot chocolate with copious amounts of redi-whip heaped on top. YAY!

I’ll admit it. One of my family’s favorite Christmas albums is the Osmond Family Christmas. I don’t think I’d like them in any other season, but schmaltz works for Christmas and they’ve got the lion’s share. In searching for a chestnut to give you from that album, I found this. Wow. If they are really singing while they do this, I’m super impressed. Even if they’re mouthing along to a track, this is still fairly awesome.

2007-12-03T06:35:00.001-08:00

Cheese toast is the BEST

Since I’ve run out of delicious morning star sausages, I’ve been rocking, in a fairly hardcore fashion, cheese toast for breakfast. I convince myself this is a pretty successful breakfast since we use whitewheat bread, which is weirdly fortified with all kinds of stuff. It’s a dang fine breakfast.

So this is going to be short, but at least it’s something. I continue to have early morning (well, nine) shifts and thus, don’t have the times I’d like to be able to devote to you, friends. As it is, I have a cool 8 minutes to finish this.

I just want to point out something strange that happened to me last week. On Friday, I stopped at our brand new, solitary Starbucks in town. Last week was sort of really really annoying, so I figured the ticket would be to get a little soy chai latte to wash down my sorrows. (before this looks too serious, it was just a matter of having to cram in a story I put off too long. So I was working a lot at the chocolate shop and then having to go home and work a lot here. So I was just grouchy). Anyways, I ordered my delish beverage, joked a bit with the cash register runner (yes! I knew it would happen! Starbucks employees, it turns out, are much like gay men in that they are helpless to my charms), then awaited my drink. It took a really really long time, but the prospect of my chai and an interesting occurrence kept me from getting annoyed. I watched not one, two, even three, but FOUR orders go before me. Every last one was a White Mocha Latte (or whatever it’s called). Now this was odd, not just because that’s a striking coincidence, but because I’m now convinced that it’s the only designer drink anyone in this town drinks and, essentially, that they are all pod people. One of the first defining characteristics I learned about my boss was that she was a nut for a White Mocha. This was before the ‘bucks was even down here. After this startling string of Nick, Leslie, and Jennifer (nick got two) getting there white mochas, I’m starting to think something is going on.

I’ll just tell you this: little fran with her Soy Chai was feeling a bit like a fish out of water.

And that’s all I can tell you, for I must go pack some pretzels, a soda and an apple to enjoy on my lunch break today. Not the healthiest lunch, admittedly, but I have to recognize that I will eat second-lunch when I get home, so I can’t get too crazy with the first.

This is from an old SNL but it made me laugh pretty hard when I saw it yesterday.

2007-11-27T06:32:00.001-08:00

Learning to hate

Last night, I ate hamburger helper. I had never eaten hamburger helper, but I’d heard things. Good things. We had this random hunk of frozen ground beef and I thought, “now’s the time.”

It wasn’t the time.

I ate lustily for the first few minutes. The pasta threatened to glue my teeth together, but there was still some appeal. I voiced this to matthew and continued eating. Then, with about 5 forkfuls left, my fork faltered and I had a shocking realization. “matt, I think I hate hamburger helper.” A few more bites confirmed my suspicions. Though I am usually the clean plate club pres., this night, that was a dang dirty plate. The sludge went to the garbage, never to pass this way again.

Right, business, since I don’t have much time. Thanks everyone for the breakfast suggestions. Right now, sarah clark’s suggestion of Morningstar sausage on a cheesed English muffin is the winner. Not because the other suggestions weren’t good; they were and verily. They’ve been tucked away for future reference. Primarily, her’s won out because of my salty yearning. As matt put it, you could strap a salt lick to me and I’d be perfectly content. This is true. And, incidentally, I was pleasantly surprised to find that, as one who has never liked sausage (I suspect it’s because of their backstory), I am quite enamored with the veggie variety. Anyways, thanks all, I love it when you come to my aid like that!

Incidentally, would you like to weigh in on the suspicions of the baby’s gender? I’ve been thinking boy for awhile now and I think old wives say that craving salty food means a boy, but what do you think? I did, actually, have a dream last night that matt and I had a little girl. Of course, in this same dream, I and an army of people at the airport had to swim across the ocean to take some orange hats from Italians who then, in a moment of touching generosity, gave us their wife-beaters too. Then, on the way back across the ocean, I sort of ran up the trunk of a large tree and said, “I’m the king of the world.” And then I immediately wasn’t anymore, said as much, and tina fey said, “now you know what 30 rock feels like.” I think it was a wry comment on the hit-or-miss-ness of her show.

What I’m trying to say is, I don’t put too much stock in my dreams.

I got to wrap it up here. I’m honestly going to try to do a little better with the blogging. It’s this 9 o’clock work thing. It’s killing me.

Oh man, this is great. Thanks to entertainment weekly for alerting me to it. It was the only one of their list of viral videos of the year that I hadn’t seen yet. It’s a thing of beauty and a joy forever.

2007-11-19T08:29:00.001-08:00

I hate eggs

I’ve been trying to eat eggs because matt, correctly I think, surmised that perhaps the reason I got so crazy around 11 at work is because I wasn’t eating a protein rich breakfast Too legit. So I’ve started making eggs. Well, I say eggs, but that conjures images of a little plate of fluffy scrambled eggs. I hate eggs enough that I have to trick myself into eating them. So what I do is warm up a flour tortilla, throw a few cubes of frozen potatoes in a pan and cook them up, then spray down the pan with pam and throw in an egg (with cheese, let’s be honest). The whole thing goes in the tortilla and is smothered in salsa. Kinda gross, I know. This fact is not lost on me. However, the end result is that the over-riding taste is that of salsa, which helps. However, whenever I get a bite that’s pretty solidly egg-y (and it happens frequently), I’m ready to blow chunks. Why, bob? Why?!?

Still, I see no alternative. The protein breakfast does keep me from feeling woozy when the hunger monster strikes (and strike it does) and, outside of bacon, which is just bad, bad for you, I can’t think of any other item that would provide protein for breakfast. Thoughts? Suggestions?

So now that I’ve hated on eggs for a while, I owe you an explanation of why I’ve been negligent of late. You’ve all heard the work excuse and it still stands (for instance, I have 6 minutes to finish this blog just now. That’s tough). Additionally, earlier this week, I enjoyed a few days in birmingham. Primarily, I was headed up to have two lunches with two sets of friends (well, one set, one single friend) and a doctor’s appointment. As luck would have it, there was a Costco trip thrown in for good measure.

On Monday, I traveled up to have lunch with my buddies Veronica and Jennifer. They showered me with baby-related gifts (fun times) and we ate much Japanese food and laughed and it was a good time. Ok, fine, and we went to ben and jerry’s. Sometimes these things happen.

Tuesday, I went to the doctor. I was approximately 40 minutes late for the appointment. This is not totally, totally my fault. In fact, I would say that I am, ultimately, blameless. We were running a little late, but then my mom and I were trying to coordinate ourselves. Then something dastardly happened: there was no room in the inn. Or, more precisely, no room in the parking garage. It was terrible! we drove around for a cool twenty minutes before we accidentally landed at the exit and were directed to a fairly far away parking deck. Once we finally parked, we had to hoof it to my building, a solid ten minute walk, and being pregnant, I was completely out of breath by the time we got to the office and totally had to pee. Which, those of you who have been great with child will know, that last part was sort of serendipitous.

*a full weekend has passed since I started this blog. It is now Monday morning. I started Friday morning*

So, in the last few days it should be noted, my hatred for eggs has only grown. In fact, this fine morning, I enjoyed a delicious gala apple for breakfast. Matt is eating eggs. I’m breathing through my mouth because the smallest smell of those eggs has got me gagging. So much for huevos rancheros. I must figure out some other protein for brekky. Suggestions? Anyone?

It was a fairly good weekend. Wait, strike that. It was a bad weekend but it ended well. See on Saturday I had to work. I had to close, which kinda stinks (especially since everyone in the free world came in ten minutes before we closed and decided to camp out in the store…gah), but that wasn’t the really horrendous part. The horrendous part was that I had to facilitate a birthday party. Which I did not want to do.

Now the thing about kids is I do, sincerely, like them. And they like me. I think it’s cuz I don’t talk down to them. They seem to respond warmly to that. So if a kid comes into the store, we generally have a nice chat, they get their chocolate and leave. Done and done. The problem with kids liking me is that they do not, do not respect me at all. This means that in the event that I’m going to be spending a good amount of time with them, say like facilitating an hour and a half birthday party, inevitably, they will turn on me. Now, this was a group of ten year old girls. They liked me. I was feeling good. Then, after I told two of them that I couldn’t spend the night with them because I had to work that night (I eventually had to play the husband card as well), these two little girls decided they didn’t like me. So they started being snotty. Which, it seemed, they had practice at the snotty game, because after that, things were significantly more difficult to manage.

They still liked me, I guess. They asked for my email address before they left. I gave the store email. Misspelled. Sometimes you have to protect yourself from little girls.

When my boss called to check how it went, I told her if I had to do another one, I would quit. I was not exaggerating.

Outside of that event and the hellacious closing, the weekend was nice. Matt and I went for “thanksgiving” at his family’s house. It was actually a pasta dinner to be shared with the side of the family we won’t be seeing on Thursday. It was really fun.

Then, the very pinnacle of the weekend came when matt and I were on our way back to tuscapoopsa. We stopped at a walmart. Now, yes, there is a walmart about three minutes away from our tusca home, but let’s be honest. I think I’ve been over the fact that it’s absolutely the worst walmart experience you can have, everytime you go. So we stopped at the very nice north Shelby walmart. As matt put it, it was like the taj mahal in comparison to our ridiculous excuse for a walmart. We made a beeline to the chips and snacks aisle. I had eyes for only one thing. Rold Gold Sourdough Pretzels. They are these big, thick, crunchy, oh-so-salty pretzels that I can only ever find at walmart. I’ve been thinking about then for days and I think matt was about ready to kill me for talking about them. There they were, sitting on the shelf looking delicious.

I got four bags. When I woke up this morning, my first thought was, “hot dog! I have those pretzels.” I think the four bags might last until Thursday. Maybe.

And that was my weekend. I know I promised you info on the neighbors, but as you can see, this is already a very long blog. I will try to shoot a new one on that topic later this week. You will see, there is much to say.

Thanks for checking in. Seriously, let me know if you have some protein ideas for breakfast. Because eggs….ew.

Alright, today’s video is actually just a song. As best I can figure, this clip of the movie was shown at an event, but so as not to be full-fledged pirates, people just recorded sound and not video. Hence, you can hear people reacting. The first voice you hear is Anthony, played by I’m not sure who, but he has a nice voice. The second voice is Mr. Todd, played by Johnny depp. The lady’s voice is the crazy homeless lady who’s always got doomsday’s predictions. This is really a marvelous sequence. I know about one percent of you will appreciate this, but if you do…oh mama. You’re probably shivering in anticipation like me.

2007-11-12T06:40:00.001-08:00

Our apartment smells like garbage

I think the reason for the above, declarative proclaimation is due to the dirty dishes that have been rocking in the sink for more than one day and, call me crazy, the garbage in the can. Me thinketh, it stinketh.

So, good weekend, I have to say. I bought some pantyhose that were a struggle to put on, despite the chance I studied, very closely, the sizing chart. I hate pantyhose. I had to work Friday and Saturday, but had both evenings off, which was nice. Really, the reason it was really good was that last night matt and I trecked up to Birmingham for a nickel creek concert. Well, first we went to Carrabbas to wear out a gift card we’d had for awhile. I got some Quattro Formaggio Raviolis. I won’t lie, not my best menu selection. It was too much. It was rich to the point that I could only eat a couple. But there was tasty bread and a delicious appetizer involved, so I did alright. And my delightful husband. And freeness. So it was a good dinner.

BUT THEN: we went to the nickel creek concert in the beautiful historic Alabama theater (bec, you might want to stop reading for awhile). It was terrific. Their opener was this strange little man from North Dakota, Tom Brosseau. As per usual, the band showed their exceptional taste in their choice of opening acts (they helped me discover Martin Sexton, thank you). I say he was strange, he just had a bizarre (but endearing) sense of humor, he was tall, and wearing a bolo tie. But my word, the man has a gorgeous voice, sort of high and yodelly and a few songs in, matt and I decided we had to buy one of his cds. Which we did. I’m listening to it now. And loving it.

Then nickel creek came out and…they were just incredible. I think this might have been my second favorite concert of their’s (I think it was my 6th time to see them). They were just ON. They pretty much did only songs that were on one of their three well-known albums. I don’t know if that was because it was their Farewell Tour. Anyways, there were a few notable exceptions. My absolute favorite moment of the night was when they did a cover of Jackson 5’s I Want You Back. Honestly, I thought my heart would burst with joy. You KNOW I love the Jackson 5. Sarah hung up her fiddle and bow and sang, even grabbing the mic off the stand and working the stage. The boys sang back up and rocked a little Jackson 5 choreography. Really, I almost burst at the seams. It made me so happy. In their encore, they did a few other covers, two bluegrass songs I didn’t know and B. Spears Toxic (a fan favorite). Actually, the highlight of their encore was the gorgeous Eveline, which they thankfully explained. That song always baffled me. About the only downside (if you can call it that) is that they didn’t end with one of their songs. They ended with one of the bluegrass covers. That was a little anticlimactic. I’ve seen them finish with Why Should the Fire Die? and it about tears your heart in two. But it was just a wonderful concert. I’m very sad that they won’t be touring for awhile. They are, simply, the best. They’ve sort of ruined concerts for me because there’s just no way anyone else can look good in comparison.

I have exciting whining to do about matt’s and my new neighbors, but I’m a busy lady this morning, so it will have to wait. Have a great Monday.

Alright, this is crappy video, but the sound was better on this one. I think you’ll get the idea. This was not from our concert, but you get a little taste of the dancing. I think the videographer might have a little thing for Chris Thile. Hmm.

2007-11-08T06:32:00.000-08:00

Now my elbow has a protuberance

By popular demand (well, one person said something), I am forcing myself to write a blog. I’m here to tell you, it will have to short. This is because I have to go to work in a few short minute and, to ensure that prego the barbarian doesn’t attack someone during the lunching hour, I need to pack a lunch. It’s kinda pathetic. It’s only a 6 hour shift, but I definitely have to take a half hour break to feed the need or else I turn into the devil.

On that, though, I’ve stooped to wearing hideous, hideous khaki sweat pants to work. It seemed to be the only way I could muscle through. My “work pants” were being held together by a rubberband around the button and a prayer. After Saturday, it was woefully apparent that was not going to cut it any more. My hideous girth overwhelmed the pants. So off to a decrepit k-mart (about an inch away from going to the big supercenter in the sky) and the aforementioned pants were purchased. I look like a total boob, but by george, they are comfortable.

Incidentally, I’ve been working 9 to 3 this whole week (and probably for the indefinite future) so that would be why I’ve been laming out on the blog. Sorry on that.

The only other news I have time for is this: the pumpkin muffins and panera are good enough to commit homicide over. Slight exaggeration, but only slight. My boss—correctly guessing that even though she had recommended them heartily, I would never stray from my asiago cheese bagel—purchased one for me yesterday. I ate it. And my heart stopped. Then it started back up and raced with joy and deliciousness. Yay for pumpkin muffins! Now if only the starbucks would open and I could rock the pumpkin scones. My joy would be complete.

That’s all, friends. Have a great day.

2007-11-02T07:08:00.001-07:00

Confinscated

So here’s a sad fact. In the two and a half weeks that my cat has been gone, I have, on multiple occasions had dreams in which he came back home. You might think, “oh, that’s a nice dream.” Well, the bad thing is, it makes me wake up in a funk, very disappointed. Which I am this morning. Because the dream was vivid. And I miss my cat like crazy.

In other cat news, Skinny is still eating. In fact, last night when I got home from work, I noticed a brown paper bag near the foot of a truck in the parking lot. The brown paper bag moved, and I realized it was Skinny. (I’m telling y’all. this is a peanut of a cat). Skinny moved just a little, to where she was a little ways across the parking lot but staring right at our apartment. As I climbed the stairs, I looked back and she had crossed the parking lot and was standing on the sidewalk right below our apartment. She froze when she noticed I was looking. So I put out some food and, sure enough, when I left again a few minutes later, some of the food was gone. Skinny might be fatty soon! Though, I doubt it. We have been feeding her for awhile. Maybe she just has a high metabolism. Catabolism. Ha.

So this morning is different. I actually slept a fairly reasonable 8 hours. Because apparently side effect 327 of being pregnant is sleeping like the dead. Pretty much this entire week I have slept ten or more hours a night. Crazy time! it’s just I get tired really early and then I sleep forever. It’s no good. In fact, that why there was no blog (to speak of) yesterday. I slept in too late.

Oh, another little pregnancy thing? I like banana peppers. Like the bright yellow-green things that you can put on sandwiches and salads? Yeah, love them. The chocolate shop is next to a quiznos and my coworkers have been hooking me up with them every time they eat there. And I can’t get enough of that sour/salty goodness. I sort of recognize that they are horrible. I get goosebumps every time I eat one, but that quickly passes and it soothes me, like a drug or something. Honestly, it’s weird.

Also, sometimes being fat with child makes me cry. Really irrationally. Story time: yesterday was a Holy Day of Obligation, so shortly after I got home from work, matt and I went to Mass. Now, I got home at about 6:15, got changed and shortly thereafter, we had to run. So we conspired to form a dinner plan. We decided to splurge and go crazy with some Steak-out. (we’re kind of out of dinners that involve meat and matt was craving some protein). So that was the plan. We’d call and order after Mass and pick it up on the way home.

Well, during Mass, and I’m not proud to say it, I had an epiphany. About food. What can I say? I’m pregnant. Panera opened here in town recently and, though I have had a few coffees and a bagel from there, there was one particular menu item that I’ve been dying for: French Onion Soup. The song of my soul. Being particularly hungry (and greedy) I decided the best way for me to enjoy it would be in a crispy, delicious, sour dough bread bowl. Oh mama. I decided then and there, not only would I get it in a bread bowl, I would eat the whole, entire thing without breaking a sweat.

After Mass, I brought my suggestion to matt. He wanted to stick with Steak-out, but we decided we’d order his food, pick up mine, then pick up his. Done and done. He ordered and we made our way to panera. It’s a blur to me now, but matt assures me that the entire conversation was dominated by me discussing the many graces of French onion soup. No doubt. When we got there, there seemed to be a little kerfuffle near the counter. A harried looking employee shot out from behind the counter and came up to us. “Did you just get here?” We nodded, confusedly. “You can’t get anything from the kitchen. Only bakery items. Our computers shut down. But we’ll give you a free dessert.”

I am heartily ashamed to tell you, that when I turned towards matt and said, desparately, “but I don’t want dessert; I want French onion soup,” it was with eyes filled with tears. Which matt immediately made fun of. I barely made it to the car before I sort of collapsed in a puddle of i-wanted-french-onion-soup tears. Honestly, when prego the barbarian wants food, she’s not messing around.

It still sings when I think about it.

I got arbys instead.

Pathetic substitute, if you ask me.

I have to ask you to think back to the Abercrombie video. This further elaborates. And, incidentally, further proves what A-monkeys are involved with that abomination of a retail outlet. I apologize for the language that one of the guys uses.

2007-11-01T08:26:00.000-07:00

urg!

i woke up kinda late this morning but i just wanted to drop a note and share some halloween photos. There was all kinds of pressure happening to wear a costume to work. Now, i'm not much one for costumes so i didn't really have the time or inclination to construct something. However, i am a fool for make-up and i was gently involved with theater, so i knew some of the basics and, voila! i did my face. i was pretty pleased with the way it turned out. particularly since it scared matt on multiple occasions. So, for your viewing pleasure, what i might look like if i ever receive that fatal bite...

This is the one i have as my face book photo currently

This was from the evening. That's just what i look like after 7 hours at work.

and...friendliest zombie on the block.

that was halloween. not too exciting, huh.

2007-10-31T06:50:00.001-07:00

Snappy Follow Bean

As I wipe the flake off my chin this morning, I ponder a few things. For one, why is there a flake on my chin? That I answer, “because you ate cereal for breakfast and you’re a klutz.” But this just leads to more questions. Why did I eat cereal? I don’t like that tepid pool of mushy, oat-y stuff. And how did I get a single, milk-moistened flake stuck to my chin? I ate cereal because we’re running out of food and I was desperate. The cereal, incidentally, was a Fiber-one version of raisin bran that my mother gave me one trip up when she (correctly) deduced that money for food is something of a challenge for us right now. So it’s not something I would buy if left to my own devices (say, like Lucky Charms, baby!) and it’s a genre of food that I do not usually approve of. As for the chin bit, as I said, I’m a klutz and a flake that has been moistened has astonishing sticking power.

I also find myself pondering how I have yet another waking-up-headache. I’m about over this! I went to bed super early on account of an un-subsiding headache last night and it makes me made enough to spit when I get up and the headache is still there. In addition, I seem to be having sympathy pains for matt. He went to a “basketball practice” that the university put on for the press to participate. It was, minus the out-of-shape journalist, an actual practice. Which is to say, I think that matt is still in bed right now because he probably cannot physically get out. Curiously, I, too, woke up sore in the neck-legs-back area. Which is weird. Because I did nothing much physically exhausting yesterday.

Oh, but I did do something that was mentally taxing. Yesterday, for the bulk of while I was at work, I sat in the back and made the second half of freezer truffles. These are wonderful, delectable dark chocolate truffles we make in the store. I had never done the second-day part. But I had heard stories. Oh, I had heard stories. After I spent some 4 hours making them, I have to say, the horror stories are all true. The “naked” truffles, which have been made the day before, get enrobed in melted dark chocolate and then tossed in an enormous vat of cocoa for a finishing coat. I’ll be honest, it’s tedious because each piece of chocolate needs to be enrobed by hand, but it’s not that got to me. It was the cocoa. Now how to describe it? The container it is in is probably 3 feet by 1 ½ feet with a depth of about 2 ½ feet. And it’s about half full of cocoa. Which, once a good amount of truffles have been dropped in them. I have to fish through, shake off the excess cocoa and repeat. A billion times.

By the end of my shift, I had chocolate up both of my forearms and cocoa in my eyes, up my nose, and all up in my lungs. It was sort of nightmare. I’m convinced that’s the reason I felt like such crap yesterday.

So last night, in an act of determination not to scare myself, I chose to watch It’s the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown! while matt was watching a basketball scrimmage. I’m not going to lie, all that snoopy, sopwith camel stuff is pretty solidly boring. I don’t know how I muscled through that as a youth. Because I definitely tivoed forward through it. Sorry snoops.

Currently, tivo is recording George Romero’s Night of the Living Dead, the seminal work of zombie cinema. Can I even tell you people, it is so, so scary. I’m recording it for matt’s viewing pleasure but I don’t think I could watch it again. It’s so lo-fi. I think that augments the creepiness of it. Even my dad, a man solidly in his 50s, recently admitted that movie scares him to death. In fact, I believe he said he didn’t watch scary movies again, so scarred was he by the experience. So, my point is, if you want a good scare, you should look it up.

I think that’s all I have to say to you. Thanks for listening.

Admittedly, this is a little melodramatic and the “night (music cue) of the living dead” thing is a little corny buuuuut…I kinda peed a little in fear.

2007-10-30T06:42:00.001-07:00

Presto Change-o

I’ve been singing to myself this morning “The Cry of the Poor.” I don’t know if that’s a strictly Catholic hymn, but the gist of it is, “the Lord hears the cry of the poor.” I’ve been singing it because I’ve had a steady stream of freelance work lately. And I’m poor. So I feel like God heard my cry.

Now I’ve got Silly Love Songs by Paul McCartney (or maybe wings) in my head. Because I wanted to listen to it. Because it’s really a pretty great song.

So a peculiar thing happened yesterday. As you know, edgar-roo has flown the coop. Obviously, he hasn’t come back or there would be a decidedly more elated tone to these blogs. It’s been two weeks and I’m trying to cope with the fact that it’s not very likely he’s coming back. You won’t be surprised I’ve had at least one good cry everyday he’s been gone.

Anyways, that’s not the point of this story. The point is, like dutiful owners of a lost pet, we’ve left food out for him. It’s been disappearing, which we’ve been able to attribute to some stray cats that hang around and this renegade terrible terror of a terrier that live on the back of our building. So yesterday afternoon I was listening to a podcast, playing a little poppit and I heard, distinctly, a “Meow.” I knew immediately that it wasn’t edgar. He has a more frenzied “roaoah!” meow. This sound had a very distinct, pronounced “me” and “ow” about it. I thought, “how cruel! Some neighborhood children are mocking my pain!” the mes and ows persisted so I went to the window and I was stunned to see skinny cat (the skittish stray, who we have previously fed near the dumpster) sitting right at the top of the steps, her back to me. (I’m fairly certain it’s a girl cat. She might be young-ish, but she’s fairly small. It points to female). I was somewhat delighted. I am happy to feed skinny cat and now, it appeared, she was aware that if she made a little ruckus that she would get food. Which was correct. So I got a scoop of food and opened the door.

She took off like a rocket. By the time I put the food in the bowl, she was already down the stairs and a good way down the sidewalk. I put on my soothing animal voice and tried to coax her back. She did come back up the stairs, but I’m fairly certain it was more to do with the fact that I had just put out food. She came to the top of the stairs but wouldn’t proceed to the food until I had gone back inside.

It made me happy. If I can’t have my sweet little edgar, at least I can take some solace in knowing that skinny cat isn’t hungry.

Incidentally, there is another cat who may or may not be a stray who hangs around. It’s a fairly big (by big, I mean kinda fat) grey cat with white socks. Thus, we’ve christened the two Skinny and Socks. Socks concerns me, because I’m fairly certain that he’s domesticated and he’s just been hanging around because there’s food. I need to investigate the lost pet sights and figure out if he belongs to someone. I’m fairly certain that Skinny doesn’t belong to anyone. She’s been around for awhile and seriously, she’s skinny.

The sad part is, that’s about all I have to say. I had the day off yesterday and that was the extent of the excitement. I also watched John Carpenter’s The Fog. It was pretty terrible. On Monday, matt and I watched Magic, also a fairly terrible horror film. It stars Anthony Hopkins (with hair) and a creepy, creepy dummy. It was a stupid movie, but when I have to get up and go pee in the night, I am a little nervous that I might look up and see Fats, the dummy.

Oh. I just shivered a little.

Happy almost halloween! Honestly, it’s fairly mortifying.

2007-10-29T07:33:00.001-07:00

I want some artichokes.

Sorry. That’s all I have to say. I have been a poo-ey blog writer. I even started out strong last week, promising to update the OTC blog. Did i? nein. There are a few factors to me not making good on that promise. Matt’s computer died a firey, hideous death and he’s been needing to use my computer for his work purposes. Thusly, I haven’t been biding as much time in front of my little 13-inch screen. Also, I worked both Wednesday and Thursday at 9. It’s hard to get up early enough to get a solid blog in before getting ready for opening. Then Friday my mom came down for a visit and I had to try to, real quick, make it look like I wasn’t living in squalor. That’s how these things go.

But here I am, back and better than ever. Well, probably not better than anything, really, but definitely back. Not much exciting has happened. There was no more puking. I had a few freelance stories I had to knock out in my free time, which was small, since I worked a lot last week (giving me, unexpectedly, today off, which is nice). Matt’s birthday was yesterday. Thankfully, I am no longer, by the numbers, two years older than him. He’ll still give me grief about being older, but it’s not so bad.

Oh, I mentioned that my mom came down. The primary reason for her visit was to get me some fat girl clothes. My weight gain, according to our cracked out scale in the bathroom has been negligible, but all of my existing fat has moved to my stomach. It seemed like overnight not a square-inch of my clothing fit. So mom took me out to get some maternity clothes. It’s a fairly weird proposition because I don’t really look pregnant and all the shirts are pretty huge on me right now. But then…there were the pants. Now, I looked at those gigantic, elastic waistbands and thought, “how hideous!” and “what have I become?” Then I tried them on. I haven’t been that comfortable in weeks. Hurray for elastic!

We also went to lunch at this Tuscaloosa joint I’ve never been to. Oh my, the salad I had was delightful. It was a greek salad that rocked banana peppers, feta cheese, and artichokes. Oh mama. I’ve been eating salty foods like there’s a run on sodium, and that enormous salad hit the spot. Which was unfortunate, because it’s made the short list of foods that I’m probably going to crave now. That’s never good.

Saturday this weekend was a real treat. Bama had a by week so matt had jack diddly to do. I didn’t have to work until the afternoon and so…we got to just hang out together on a Saturday. It was amazing! I’d like to say we did something more exciting than sit on the couch but…well, anyways, it was nice.

Anyways, that’s more or less it. Have any of you people seen Dan in Real Life? I’m interested. I love Steve Carrell and the music is all done by a good friend of mine (pretend friend, mind you) Sondre Lerche. That’s what really has me interested, though ebe’s review actually knocked it only on the music count. Whoops. But let me know, if you saw it, what you think.

And…..video. These people just make me really happy.

2007-10-23T07:00:00.000-07:00

The sick day

This blog is not for the faint of heart. I am so glad, however, that I can share these charming anecdotes with you now. Yay for telling people about the pregnancy!

Yesterday morning I was feeling bad in the head. I think I might have said that here on this bloggy. Anyways, I assumed it was because of crying my fool head off over my cat the night before (what, it happens). So I went to work feeling pretty craptastic. I was yawning every other second and my head just kept getting worse and worse. At one point, I had to park it because I felt like I was going to pass out. It was not a good feeling. This persisted for some four hours. At about the top of those four hours, I squatted to get something and boom! Nausea time!

(gar. Just between that last sentence and now I had to go remove the trash from the kitchen can because it was making the apartment stink. Much violent gagging ensued.)

so I busted a move to our 50 degree bathroom. (seriously, it is so very cold in there). One of the gravest ironies of needing a toilet when you’re in puking range is that I can think of very little that is as assured to encourage my barfing than a toilet. I tried to breathe through it but instead puked twice and violently in the toilet. Sexy. And the other thing about puking (this is all new to me; I used to be the picture of health), the very act of it makes me want to puke again. I tried to calm the spasms in my stomach muscles and rinse the bile out of my mouth. And then I puked again in the sink.

By the time I hobbled out of the bathroom, all pride was gone. My boss was like, “uh, do you need to go h..” “YES!” You better believe, I got out of that store and got home.

Where I promptly puked some more.

Honestly. It was not my best day. In fact, with 6 total vomits, I think I can safely say it was my worst day.

It goes to figure, too, because I was feeling all triumphant and smug because I’m in my 12th week, rounding the old first trimester bend.

There’s a small chance that the puking was solely associated with the nasty headache that I couldn’t shake all day. I eventually just gave up and went to bed pretty early just to get out of having to have the throb in my head.

That concludes the grossest story of all time. Puke count:7

In other news, matt was on the radio this morning and he did a smashing job. You go boy.

A little update: On the Couch with Matt and Francesca sort of bit it a little last week. Between the trauma of the cat going missing and matt’s computer biting it as well as my big fat freelance job, we dropped the ball on the blog. I think we’ve come to the consensus that rather than trying to catch up, we’re just going to pick up with this week. Sorry for any confusion and/or broken dreams. We’re on our way back, I promise.

I think that about does it for me. I’ve got a bagel to eat, bills to pay, and a target run to make. Wahoo.

Aw, this is an oldy but a goodie. I’ve never seen the video.

2007-10-22T06:56:00.000-07:00

Shello, monday.

I have a crick in my neck. That’s never good.

Edgar is still gone. I am still greatly distressed. We put up signs all over yesterday morning and I have a few more that I’m going to put up today. They even have a picture of my cuddle muffin, looking as cuddly and muffiny as possible. I have to try my best not to look at the signs while I’m putting them up or else the people driving by will be asked by their child (who is sitting on the passenger side and is thus closer to me), “Mommy, why is that grown woman crying under the stop sign?”

Edgar was in my dream last night. I woke up very sad. Sarah Silverman was also in my dream, but I’m fairly certain that had no bearing on my waking mood.

Aside from the built-in sadness, it was a good weekend. I had to work Saturday (I always have to work Saturday) but I opened, which was nice. I got there an hour early and got the wheels rolling and it was peaceful and pleasant for that hour and then, people not generally being in the market for chocolate at 10 AM, I had another quiet hour. It was great. If no one had come in from 10 to 4, I would have been totally ok with that. And as it was, hardly anyone did. When my coworker Jennifer came in at 12, I had had 4 (four) customers come in. But dang if I hadn’t got some special projects happening. It was just a nice, how-i-expected-a-chocolate-shop-to-be day.

After that, I ran to the library to return a book then tried to catch up with matt’s family at the post-game tailgate. I have to say, being on campus immediately changed my mood. Between trying to find somewhere to park and observing all the group-think, I got back into a pretty anti-football funk. But then I found matt’s family, and they were very nice and I ate some food, and that was very nice, so I got over it.

Until we went to grab my car out of the parking garage. We got to the little army thing to get out…and found out it cost three dollars to exit. Which we did not, by any stretch of the imagination, have. This was a little annoying because you didn’t get a ticket or anything when you were coming in, you were just supposed to know you had to pay to get out.

So great, we’re stuck in a parking deck.

I repark, matt ran back up to the student center, got money out of an ATM and returned to me. We attempted again to exit. And we were denied. It would not accept our money. At this point, a car pulls up behind us and watches us struggle. God bless that driver, he was a student and he put his car in park and swiped his student ID to let us exit. That was nice of him. But it was still totally and completely annoying.

Stupid football.

Sunday was deliciously lazy with church in the morning and a visit to panera after (this being a new paneramalamadingdong the people are going crazy. it was totally packed out). After that we put up our lost cat posters (sigh) and then came home and more or less did nothing. So, by my count, it was a really enjoyable weekend.

Alright, so all I was trying to do was find an awesome fight sequence from star trek that matt and I were lucky enough to stumble upon this weekend, but instead I found this. It is with a laugh on my face (and a tiny tear in my eye) that I present this. The person who posted it merely commented, “man, this is one laid back cat.” I agree. It is.

2007-10-19T07:36:00.001-07:00

Irrigation Room

So, ok, wow. You folks showed up in droves to comment on the blog yesterday and (for you myspace readers) I had a buttload of comments after my bulletin, too. That made me feel great and loved. AND I think maybe now I know who some of the mystery readers of the blog are…maybe not though. Maybe they just checked in after the cheeky bulletin. Anyways, thanks everyone. It was a nice feeling.

Thanks too for your well-wishes in operation Find Edgar. He’s still good and missing And I’m still crying about every little thing. I know in the grand scheme of things, one lost cat isn’t that important. But we did everything together. He followed me all around the apartment and always had weird, signature things he would do. Right now, he’d be trying to sit on my keyboard. If I took a bath, he’d sit on the edge of the counter (kinda pervy, really). If I was in the kitchen, he’d either lie on the floor and investigate the underside of the sink (I don’t know why) or do a four foot vertical jump onto the top of the cabinets. If I was sitting on the couch, he would sit on me and let me rub his belly. If I was trying to sleep, he’d try to wake me up. I’ve slept find for the past three nights. I hate it. Last night, too, at the end of a cruelly uninterrupted night of sleep I had a dream that there was a cat downstairs of our apartment. I was so happy. Right at the end of the dream…turned out it wasn’t him. Just terrible.

See? I’m just a wreck. I know he could come back at any time (longtime readers might remember the family cat being gone for 9 days once and then a solid month), but I’m really a pessimist and I feel like my cat is gone forever. Sigh.

Sort of as a result of that, but mostly due to my gigantic load of freelance that I had to try to cram in on yesterday’s day off, I was the most pathetic thing you have ever seen. My mom gave me some too-big velour sweat pants for when I get good and pregnant. Yeah, I wore them. My hair, which was in desperate, desparate need of washing, got pulled atop my head. My face remained unmade and tear-stained the whole day. I did laundrey and tried to finish these three stories (I still have one to finish today and I have to go through and edit them all). I could get away with such a disgraceful look since I holed up and worked (and cried) all day. But then…I decided pizza would be just the thing to make me feel better. Oh that poor delivery guy. He has probably been scarred for life at the sight of me. I can do ugly, nasty, and unwashed better than anyone you’ve ever met.

Fact.

In other news, On The Couch (which I’m too tired to make a link to) is…well, I’ll be honest, suffering a bit. Matt and I have both been a little tied up. But I promise, I’m keeping track of the ones we need to review still and we’ll get back on it. I’m a little behind on my tv viewing as well. I still haven’t seen this week’s Reaper or last week and this week’s Pushing Daisies. Pathetic, I know. Or maybe…maybe that’s actually kinda not pathetic.

Hmmm.

Another yo gabba gabba. I saw this one on youtube yesterday and was tantalized. I’ll tell you what: this is exactly what it feels like every time I eat. Though, I’m a little disturbed by how he ate these things…all in one gulp. Maybe I don’t understand the finer points of green monster digestion…

2007-10-18T07:45:00.001-07:00

Big (wink nudge) news

So, gentle reader, you might have sensed my fatness lately. That’s because I am great with child. We had our second doctor’s appointment on Tuesday morning (hence the not writing) and then went public after that. Then I had to work early yesterday and didn’t write. I assure you, I wanted you to know.

I say I’m “great” with child. Really, I am, at best, mediocre with child. I’m only eleven weeks and even though my pre-existing fat has shifted around (oh, the belly rolls!), apparently, according to doc, I haven’t gained weight. So that’s weird. Actually it’s normal not to gain weight this early, I just mean it’s weird that I feel all fatter but am not.

Also, contributing to the mediocrity has been how I’ve been feeling. Oh buddy, do you know how hard it has been for me not to be able to whine on this, the blog? Hard, that’s how hard. I’m finally, finally starting to feel better, but there were some weeks there where, whew, I was gaggy mcgee. Everything would get me gagging so violently it would hurt my stomach. Smells, primarily, set me off. Coffee became repulsive (I’ve learned to gingerly approach it again), the kitchen was a cornucopia of gag-worthy smells, and obviously, working in a place that reeked of chocolate was hell on wheels. All of which I couldn’t tell you.

I couldn’t tell you about the time I ate Chinese food and, as I scraped the remnant off my plate and into the disposal, I ralphed twice, in quick succession, everything right up. It was the most convenient puke of all time! i was at the sink, the water was running, the disposal was on. It was magic!

I couldn’t tell you about how, when I went to the dentist two weeks ago and lied on my medical forms (he and his wife who was working at the front desk are friends of my parents), the dentist looked into my mouth and proclaimed, “you’re pregnant!” (before you get your underpants in a wad about me lying on a medical form, I debated as to what to do. I had a hunch that what this affected was my ability to be x-rayed. When I got in the examining room, I immediately told my dental hygienist. It did have to do with x-rays). Anyways, all these stories of Chinese food barfs and amazing feats of dentistry, I have had to keep them to myself. I’m glad we can have this openness again.

So that’s the fun, good news. Here’s the bad news: when we left Tuesday morning to go to the ham, we let edgar outside. He hasn’t come back. That’s a solid two days and two nights of missing egar. I don’t think I need to tell you, I’m totally wrecked. I’m pretty sure if you read my blog with any kind of regularity, you are aware that I love that cat about as much as any human. My eyes are on permanent puff because no matter what I’m doing, I can think of what edgar would be doing. Like right now, he would probably be trying to sit on my keyboard and probably succeeding in making the screen so bright I couldn’t read it.

Ok, I need to stop thinking about it. We’re going to be putting up signs. I’m going to try to keep myself together. The good news is that I don’t have to work today. The bad news is that I have a monsterpiece of a freelance story that I have to knockout today. Which is hard to do when you’re crying.

Right, happy time again. I don’t know if I’ve sung the praises of the children’s program Yo Gabba Gabba yet, but let me just say, if you’re ever at home at 10:30 in the morning, put on Nick and enjoy. I stand very corrected because Sam sent me a video of it a long, long time and I was like, “what the junk is this?!?” what it is is amazing. it’s like kinda techno for babies. It’s primary function is to teach kids to be polite and to do the right thing but also to get up and dance. Every episode there’s a celebrity guest who teaches the kid a dance. Matt told me about this one (he watched more often than I do). I almost fell out of my chair. It’s one of my great grade school (possibly gay) loves.

2007-10-15T06:37:00.001-07:00

Happy birthday, mom

Big weekend for me. Or maybe it just feels big. I didn’t have to work Friday night which, in the words of one Kelly kapoor, was a-may-zing! It was the first Friday night I’ve had off since we opened. Ok, I was off the weekend that I was in Birmingham, but that doesn’t really count. Because matt and I didn’t get to do something fun.

So I worked until 6, came home where matt had made some remarkably good pasta and sauce. (“remarkably” not because he’s a bad cook. He’s really good. It was “remarkably” good just because it was better even then the usual quite good sauce). Then, after we’d packed our bellies, we went to the Cineplex to see Michael Clayton. Y’all, it’s a really great movie. I haven’t been this thrilled with the story, characterization, pacing, and just overall greatness of a film in a long time. Seriously, it’s worth checking out.

Right, so Saturday I awoke and matt was watching espn (as has become the way of things these days). Really, Saturday wasn’t hugely exciting. I worked from 12:30 to close. Kinda a bummer, really. But, thanks to the early morningness of the football game coupled with UA being on fall break, it was a really slow, slow day. Which I happen to like. Unfortunately, though, there was definitely the most redneck, tacky group of people came in when I was at the shop alone and I wanted to punch them in the face (they were picking up everything and then putting it down where it didn’t belong and barking “how much is this?” about everything across the store at me. Honestly, something just really rubbed me the wrong way about them). Anyways, the worst bit was that there was no one else working to help me figure out just what about them made me want to tear out my hair.

Anyways, nicely, since it was so slow, we got to leave at about, oh, 8:10. That was excellent.

Sunday was a pleasure cruise, too. We went to church, then tried, and failed to eat at, not one, but two of the places that I’m supposed to write about for this story I’m working on. One of them just wasn’t at all the place I thought it was. The other wasn’t open. And, cutely enough, had it’s open sign on and no hours posted. Ok, that part of the day had me annoyed. But after that, it was all lazing about (ok, and also writing two of the five stories I have to write. By Friday. Gulp.) we sort of watched SNL (not very good), watched some West Wing (I’m still trying to muscle through. We’re on the last season), and then we watched Ed Wood, which I greatly enjoyed. I made matt an awesome dinner constructed of some left over taco meat we had. A taco soup, cobbled together from a recipe and the things we had in our cabinets. I think it turned out pretty well, but poor matt, who doesn’t like the spicy things at all, gave up about half-way through. There was salsa in it. It was too much.

Oh, I forgot to mention a very notable event from Sunday. My mom’s birthday is today and, because she’s awesome, she asked for a bike from my dad. I think my mom is turning, what, maybe 53? Possibly 54, and she’s getting a bike. Anyways, she wanted some accoutrements for that bike so matt and I set out on a little quest.

Now, I don’t know if you are familiar with the store Woods and Water. It’s this behemoth of a place that looks like a gigantic hunting lodge. Because, as the name indicates, it’s for hunters and fishers (as matt pointed out, also popular names for the southern set). Anyways, their commercial maybe leads you to believe that they have other stuff, stuff for pets and maybe, just maybe more general sporting goods. Well, it became apparent as soon as matt and I pulled the antler handles of the doors open that this was a store made precisely and exclusively for people who like to kill animals for sport. I told matt that I probably felt more uncomfortable in here than I would in the Love Shack store. And that’s saying something. We did a horrifying lap around the store and hastily left. The only good that came from the visit is that I found the coolest pants ever. They were camouflage, sure, but they were actually made to look like 3-d leaves. They came up off of the pants in their leaf like form. I could totally wear those, sit on the ground with a cup, and act like lieutenant dan. It was incredible.

We proceeded to Academy (where I still felt a little out of place because, clearly, I’m not an exerciser) and purchased the sought after gift. And no animals were harmed.

So, as you can see, not a particularly productive weekend, but certainly a pleasant one. I even bought some great songs on itunes: Little Devil by Neil Sedaka, Maybe I Know by Lesley Gore, and Silly Love Songs by Wings. In a grave irony, I was not able to purchase the song Weekend by Wet Willie. Apparently, itunes doesn’t have it. Cruel twist of fate.

Ah, this is a good one. It was about the only thing on this week’s ep that really made me laugh. It should stop being funny, especially when it goes completely off-course, but it just makes it funnier to me.

2007-10-12T06:58:00.000-07:00

What is a Jim?

So many wonderful things happened yesterday! Ok, chiefly, it was just that 30 Rock and The Office were both really, really funny. Sometimes that’s all it takes. But since I have another blog where I can expound on those things, that’s all I have to say about that.

I watched Pretty in Pink yesterday. I had never seen. Basically, every Sunday, I search the tivo for upcoming movies and mark them if they are even remotely interesting. Having never seen Pretty in Pink and always being oddly fascinated as to why molly ringwald was such an it girl (scuse my frankness, but I think she’s weird looking) and also why everyone is so convinced these movies are fantastic, I put it on the wish list. And watched it.

What a load of crap! (spoilers) Why the junk does she chose the a-hole rich kid who doesn’t have enough of a spine to follow his heart instead of white jacket, feather-haired james spader? Clearly, duckie’s the guy she should chose. It was like the trauma of my best friend’s wedding all over again. I hate that kinda story. Then they tried lamely to cover up the fact that they had left duckie high and dry by having some pretty girl smile at him at the end. What-ev-er. His best friend totally gave him the shaft.

And the dress she made was the most vomitous thing I’ve ever seen. So there.

I guess brevity is the theme for the week, because that’s all I really wanted to say. Just get a little Pretty in Pink whining in. obviously, he’s kinda a spazz, but I think he makes it work. We’re overlooking the fact that he ended up on a stupid CBS show. Duckie, the character, the man, was kinda awesome. Sort of a less cool Ferris Bueller. And look at dumb Molly Ringwald's reaction. Disgust. What a poo head.

2007-10-11T07:58:00.001-07:00

Gnat

(our title was brought to you by ed, who now sometimes just sits on my computer. All of him on all of it. He gave me the letters “g” and “n.” I followed them to their logical conclusion.)

I just enjoyed a delicious everything bagel. As I spread a smattering of cream cheese atop my lightly toasted bagel, matt commented that the smell of my bagel was “kicking his nose in the balls.” A couple problems with this. One, it smells like heaven in a ring-shaped bread. Second, matt’s nose does not have balls. Third, my bagel does not have feet. His story is just full of holes.

So as we’ve been watching Even Stevens, matt and I have entered the Bobby Deever episodes. Now, bobby deever is innocuous enough, but unfortunately it means that the bulk of the episodes A storylines feature ren heavily. And everyone knows, she’s not half so funny as louis. So that’s been hard.

Yesterday, something important happened. I went to Taco Casa. I’ve never been to the taco house. Having been a taco bell fan since my youth (I’m not proud), I think I very early on had an incident with taco casa and just never wanted to go back. Yesterday at work, Kelly came back from her break with a taco casa cup. I knew it was time. They’re all over this town. I knew I had to find out what it’s all about. So I began interrogating her in anticipation of my break. I decided I would try the small messe (that’s how it’s really spelled, not sure why) nachos.

My friends, if you’ve ever wondered what it would be like if you couldn’t see the world in color and then suddenly you could…that’s pretty much what my nacho experience was like. Boy.

Alright, I think that’s all I’ve got to say to you. My sleep was tormented last night and I’m in a grouchy mood. But this makes me happy…though this trailer doesn’t get me super excited about the movie (I think it could have been a lot better and I’m worried that it’s not), it’s still the movie I’m most excited about for the rest of the year.

2007-10-10T07:40:00.001-07:00

Dead Squirrel Bagel

Did I tell you that the last time I indulged in some delicious bagels from the Target bakery, old man matt grumped out of bed and stood under our air vent complaining that he was pretty sure something had died up there because it smelled so bad? I sat on the couch and enjoyed my wonderful cornucopia-of-flavors bagel. The next time I made one, he made the connection.

I’m happy to report, I’m going to enjoy one just as soon as I finish this blog.

So, yes, we went to target yesterday. This is big news. It’s big news because we needed food but more importantly, when matt had to say to the clerk, with hatred in his heart (directed at me), “um, we actually have our own bags…” the clerk responded, “awesome! That’s great! I want my kids to be able to breath too!” I’m not sure if that’s science, but it was so nice to have someone who didn’t react like we had just told them we wanted to strip and dance on their conveyor. Delightful Dee (as she immediately became known in my mind) was rather garrulous and went on to tell us that something smelled good, like spiced meat. I think matt said it was my perfume and I said, “oh yeah, spiced meat by hillary duff.” Then she talked about how much she hated hillary duff and how stupid it was that someone told her she could sing. Then, not sure why, I mentioned that I went to school in ohio. She asked me where. I said Steubenville…turns out she was born there. And her mom moved to Tuscaloosa because she thought it would be an awesome city. Dee expressed her disdain at that idea.

I love dee. We will seek her out next time we grocery shop. She was nice and she didn’t get mad about our bags. Hurrah for dee!

Also notable about yesterday was dinner. Now, I don’t pretend to be the best cook in the world, but matt and I have made these panko-fried pork chops now and again and they are very good, but I’ve never gone for broke and done the sauce that is supposed to go with them. Why? It involves rice vinegar, fresh ginger, and plum preserves. All things that I don’t just have on hand. Usually. Since we shopped yesterday, I went to town and bought all the stuff. I also decided that I was going to fancy up some jasmine rice to accompany our dinner. So I found a recipe that involved fresh ginger (synergy, you see), cinnamon, cardamon, onions, and some roasted walnuts.

Holy craps.

I’ve never loved myself as much as I did about five minutes into that meal. Wow.

We also watched Reaper. Which just keeps on bringing the funny.

And that was Tuesday.

Oh, hurray! I found it. Seriously. Watch Andy Samberg. It’s all in the wrists….i really respect that they’re doing absolutely pointless, silly things these days.

2007-10-09T08:25:00.000-07:00

School’s for the birds!

Yesterday was a big long day for me at work. I was a grouchy pain in the butt. Not my best work, to be honest.

On my break, I went to a local coffee house and got myself all hopped up on a drink that, even the barista was like, “yeah, it doesn’t really taste like coffee. It’s just really sweet.” Excellent. I drank. She was correct in her assessment.

Matt and I ate burgers for dinner, because that was all we had left for dinner usage. Well, that or hot dogs, and I figured I picked the lesser of two evils. As we ate them, we watched Aliens in America (still great) and Chuck (still solidly enjoyable). Then I went to bed.

This morning we actually had a pretty decent lie-in, after edgar harassed us from about 5 to 7:30. Then he went out for a bit, came back in, and slept behind my knees. Hence the sleeping in. The edgar alarm didn’t wake us.

Most recently, I sang Edgarcat (to the tune of edelweiss, natch) to my cat. Matt joined in on the harmony after the bridge.

So as you can tell, things are pretty wild here.

This is such, such a weird skit. Matt and I laughed very hard. We spent a lot of this morning saying, “I said we-ee-ee!” I think Kristen wiig is pretty amazing.

2007-10-08T06:31:00.000-07:00

Weekend redux

Sorry about the lack of love Friday. Sometimes I just get lazy. Friday was one such day. Thus, a brief mentioning of Thursday: my programs (the office and 30 rock) were both all kinds of good. So that was nice.

Friday I pretty much just worked all day. I smooshed a finger. It’s all right, I just sort of skinned it near the cuticle. It was not fun. Then, after work, in a bold move of staying up later than 10, matt and I went to see his uncle perform at a local restaurant. He’s a mighty talented drummer and they were quite enjoyable. As an added bonus, matt and I got to smell like a restaurant for awhile. That weird bbq smell. Even though it wasn’t a bbq restaurant at all.

Saturday was a fairly early morning. Matt gets excited about football stuff and is usually up before me. His parents and sister came to pick him up for the game. This means I spent a good part of the morning trying to make things look nice. His parents hadn’t seen the apartment since I moved in. I had to try to make things look respectable.

My proudest moment this weekend was that this was the first time they had spent any significant time around edgar. They doted! It was wonderful. Matt’s sister anna even said he had pretty eyes. I thought, “finally! People get it! My cat is uncommonly adorable.” Maybe they were just playing to my weakness, but it made me happy.

Then I went to work, where things were mighty quiet. Which I liked very much. Usually Saturdays are madness. It was nice and mellow. And Jennifer and I (but mostly Jennifer) tried to organize the back room. Really, it was totally her. I just stayed up front and tried to compile a few boxes.

On my way home, I got it in my head that precisely what I wanted in life was some Moe’s. You know I’m a sucker for puppy-sized burritos. A Moe’s just recently opened down here and by the time I got there, I had worked myself into a lather. I chatted excitedly with the employees. I asked the girl at the register if there were any other Moe’s in town. She said no, but they were looking for somewhere to put another franchise. I said, “how about in my mouth?”

Sometimes I get a little over-excited about things.

Sunday was a bucket of joy. We went to church, where deacon straley gave a very nice homily. We went to The Crimson Café where I had the very bizarre (good, but strange), bacon, egg, and cheese quesadilla. It was a bacon, egg, and cheese biscuit. Except in a tortilla. I also had a very tasty latte, flavored with white chocolate and hazelnut. Delicious. Matt and I were entertained by the trivial pursuit silver screen cards. He kicked my butt from here to right over there.

After that, we headed to the ham. Matt’s excellent grandfather paw paw was having an 85th birthday party. I’ll tell you, that is one popular octogenarian. There were lots of people there! I found out that amazing things happen when older Italian gents get together: an accordion happens. And someone starts singing. It was great! and matt’s cousin and my good buddy joey was there with his wonderful girlfriend Jackie. It was all very good and nice. And the food was excellent.

I came home and fell asleep fairly early. I’m just a kid, after all.

This morning someone meowed his face off until I got out of bed. So I got out of bed and curled up on the couch. Sometimes, he’s content if I’m just in a room with him by himself. Not so today. he let me get just on the cusp of falling back asleep and then, boom, cat alarm strikes again. He simply is not content unless I am totally awake and paying attention to him. Egads.

Oh, good news. Saturday Night Live has kinda been good for the past two weeks. I think it’s a lot to do with one mr. A Samberg. He’s great. I would expound more on how it’s gotten good, but I think that Matt and I will probably drop an entry about it on On the Couch. This is just silly. And that’s great. Also, watch his physicality. He embodies the part very, very well.

Oh, booby. I can’t find it on the interweb. I guess I’m stuck letting the women of teen witch assert their sexual preference. Through dance. Obviously.

2007-10-04T06:35:00.001-07:00

Pity me

I am wounded. I am a woman down. I am whining. I have injured my back. Much as I’d like to tell you that it was injured doing something spectacular, like a back handspring or saving a baby from a shark, that was not the case. There was an incident at work, involving boxes falling from the heavens and, in an effort to protect myself by being attacked by a box filled with boxes of gloves, I threw my hands in the air, possibly shook my derriere, and hurt myself. The worst part about this injury of mine is that it’s gotten worse. Which, if you have any experience with this type of thing, makes it seem like I’m faking or exaggerating as time goes by. But I assure you, it’s definitely gotten worse. And I want to cry a little.

On the good news front, edgar has been a regular rock star sleeper lately. Sure, he did wake me up by burroughing into the comforter at my ankles, but it wasn’t until 8. This is excellent progress. I think it’s the new collar. He’s looking good, he’s acting good.

My mom hooked me up with a copy of the Hairspray film soundtrack. I’m ok with this. Obviously, musical theater dork that I am, I was delighted by the entire film. But, as I listen to him sing, I remember that what really blew me away was james marsden. He was excellent. Xman to broadway. Enjoyable transition.

I’m sorry, my back pain is preventing me from coming up with anything clever to write. I’m going to go get a cinnamon roll, watch ham on the street and pity myself. Oh, hey, thanks to everyone who’s visiting and commenting on the other blog. You’re nice people.

Another teen witch song which has been oft quoted amongst my family. I have to tell you, when I was the most popular girl, it was a lot like this. Spontaneous applause for just entering a room and the like.

2007-10-03T07:25:00.001-07:00

Endless Pool

I want an endless pool. They seem fairly awesome and only slightly bigger than a bath tub. But then, if you think about it, you wouldn’t get to practice your flip turns at all. And you wouldn’t know how many laps you’d swum. And how do you stop? Do you just stand up and let it push you to the wall and flip out? That’s a little intense.

Edgar has been very generous on the sleep front lately. I slept until 9 today! Which, let’s be honest, was completely unnecessary, given that I went to bed at about 11:15. Anyways, this is the second day this week he’s been very unobtrusive. I think it’s to do with the fact that matt’s suitcase, upon which edgar likes to sleep all day, is not currently in the quiet dark closet. Thus, ed has been sleeping in the main room, where he is frequently awakened by one or both of us. We may be turning the nocturnal tide. Which is great!

Sorry I didn’t write yesterday. I went up to b’ham for a dentist appointment fairly early, then went to lunch at edgar’s with my buddies from hoffman, Tracy and May (good people). I bought four chocolate thumbprint cookies to share with my hubs. Oh man are they good! That was why I chose to go there, really. Then I went to the pet store and bought edgar various and sundry things (including a toy that’s some feathers and a dangly carrot on a stick and a collar that I bought simply because it would look really cute on him. It was a low point). Then I went to b&n and bought some birthday cards and discovered their newest seasonal flavor Toasted Marshmallow. Holy craps. I had the frap and it definitely tasted delicious and like a toasted marshmallow and it’s topped with crumbles of graham cracker. Oh mama. I was filled with joy.

Right so then I drove home, got out of my car, and promptly dropped the edgar’s cookie box face down in the parking lot. Great. I was already irritated because I was sweating profusely from my crap ride in my crap car with minimal ac to comfort me. And now I had dropped my cookies. And their cookies, though delicious, are fairly crumbly. Poo. They survived, but I should have known, it was only the beginning.

Matt and I enjoyed some leek soup for dinner and watched the very enjoyable Aliens in America (it will be on On The Couch soon. The office is finally on there). After dinner, as I sat lazily on the couch, with my wonderful (and now, fashionable) cat all curled in my lap, matt went to create a decadent dessert for is. That is, he added water to two of those mini warm delight things. He proudly brought me one to my place on the couch. I had barely touched the edge of the thing when matt let go, it tumbled over my cat (who flipped his lid) and landed face down on my stomach/lap. A chocolate-chocolate warm delight. Poo.

It was mostly salvageable and matt insisted that he have the fallen comrade and he’s still kicking, so I guess everything’s ok.

Alright, sorry that Monday’s video didn’t work. I’m going to post it again, because it’s mighty funny to me. Then, because I’m feeling generous, I’ve included one of the best pieces of cinema, oh, ever. Matt stunned me by saying he had never even heard of this movie, let alone this iconic scene. It’s the stuff of legends in my family.

2007-10-01T07:44:00.001-07:00

Weekend by Wet Willie

Well, what a weekend I had! For one, it was about the girliest time I’ve had in awhile. Which was a nice change of pace. I wouldn’t want to be having girl time all the time, but now and again, it makes me feel like I have friends…even if all the girls were related to me.

Alright, so I went up to birmigham Thursday night. Matt and I enjoyed the newest Office with Rebecca at her apartment (review soon on On The Couch). We also enjoyed some delicious meat and three foods from dales. I say “meat and three” but I just rocked a vegetable plate. Which means I get to enjoy four sides. Wonderful! My feelings about the office, I will not share here, as they will soon be published on On the Couch, but we had fun regardless.

Right, so then we headed to matt’s parents house and spent the night there. Matt left early, early to go to florida (to see what, as it turns out, was one of the most painful Alabama games I’ve ever seen. Yes, I watched it. And ew, really). I rolled out of bed enjoyed a bagel (love those crazy bagels), ran down the hill to walgreens and then to pick up a boutonniere for anna. Incidentally, the lady handed me the boutonniere and seemed to be waiting for my opinion. My experiences with highs chool dances and the accompanying trappings I tried to play it cool, “oh yeah, that rose looks really good. It’s a good rose.”

I dropped the flower off at Matt’s house, then ran across town to meet up with my sisters and mom. Natasha immediately set to delighting me with her recorder playing skills. She ruefully stated that she wished she could play Happy Birthday for my brother Chris’ birthday celebration on Sunday. “hold it right there!” I stated, and ran to the piano and plunked it out for her.

Now, Natasha is, I think, the person who makes me laugh hardest in the world, so putting a recorder in her hand meant just hours of hilarity for me. Images of Dwight schrute at the bird funeral kept popping into my mind. It was too much.

So once bec got there, mom, bec, tash, and I went to the mall. Well, first we went to lunch, then we went to the mall. And we were there for hours. Now, usually, I’m not a big fan of shopping, particular when I don’t really have an expendable income. But it turned out really fun. I like those girls all very much. Our trip culminated in one of the 45 belks that are in the mall. In the skanky, discount warehouse mess of a belk by the food court. This was totally up our alley. Being cheap people, having to dig for bargains is something we’ve been doing for years. It was gross and awesome all at once.

Anyways, after that we went back home for dinner and timbot showed up which was fun since we weren’t expecting him until Sunday. He apparently isn’t such a fan of the fact that any time he walks into the house, all of the women folk sort of scream our joy at seeing him. What? We love him, we can’t help it.

After dinner, I made my way back to matt’s family’s house. I guess I didn’t mention: the whole point of me being up for the weekend was that I was staying with matt’s sister anna because her parents went to the game too. Now, before you cry “negligent!,” she was at school that whole day and had a football game after, so she was gone until about 10:30. Anyways, I got home, figured out their tv and eventually was joined by matt’s other sister Lauren and her excellent boyfriend. We hung out for a bit. They’re great and it was nice to get to visit with them.

Saturday morning was probably the pinnacle of girl time. When I woke up, I ate a bagel, was shortly joined by Lauren and later anna. We had girl chat for awhile in the kitchen. That was nice. Then it turned into anna day. Which was fun because anna is a pretty great person. We got our toes and fingernails done, we went to panera for lunch, then we went to get her hair done. We came back to the house, hung out for a bit, then she got ready for her dance. After that, I rocked the rest of the football game (that terrible football game) and more than my fair share of ABC Family. Actually, now that I think about it, I started on FoxFilms watching Big, then switched to ABC Family and watched Uptown Girls (look, I’m not proud of that), and Forever Young. Bless anna, she came in an hour before curfew, which was generous. Because I was totally about to fall asleep.

Next morning, I ate a bagel, woke up anna, welcomed back my hubs, we went over to my family’s house where we celebrated that my big brother was 30 years and a week old. The whole family was there, so it was totally fun.

The point of my blog is, my family (either side) is just great.

So matt and I finally posted another On the Couch. It’s our discussion of the controversial show Kid Nation. Also, as soon as he gets his side written, we’ll be publishing our office feelings.

And now, a song, from Andy Samberg. The premier of SNL was pretty promising. And this is really rather catchy.

2007-09-27T05:35:00.001-07:00

Overdue

This will probably be pretty short today, gang. I have to work at 10, which, for me (it’s ok to hate me a little), is pretty early. It’s messing up my morning routine of taking a nice long time on the blog, lounging, eating breakfast, watching a program or two, then taking a shower. This morning, I have to bang out the blog, scarf, and shower in a hurry.

That said, there is something very, very important that must be brought to your attention: Clare is totally and completely my hero. As you know, I am on the constant quest to conquer the world through coke points. Currently, I’ve been putting them all towards trying to win a camera, a nice fancy, couple thous canon. Clare, aware of my quest and perhaps unaware of her heart of gold, realized that when she was put in charge of kitchen cleanup, she was privy to a veritable treasure chest of coke points. And she decided to give them to me, rather than get her own free stuff. Seriously, I think she’s sent me about 100 in the past couple days. And that, my good people, is a really good friend. Three cheers for clare! Hip hip…(you say hurray.)

Little E stayed out until 5 this morning. He’s a maniac. It’s sort of horrible because I get yanked out of consciousness in a hurry and like run to the front door to let him in. It sort of wakes me up in a big way. BUT then, he’s an angel on wheels. He slept at my feet and now, with me getting up so early, he’s dutifully sitting on top of junk on my desk and staring at me. Love that cat.

Man, I mentioned breakfast. Let me mention it in more depth. I am going to have (and had yesterday) an everything bagel with cream cheese. And a frosty gloss of apple juice. I could just die. I have a wonderful sense memory with this style of breakfast, because it used to be the only time I got a bagel was when we were visiting my grandparents. Bagels are still a little hard to come by (especially in a “city” that doesn’t have a panaramalamadingdong), but I noticed a wall of bagels when we were shopping on Tuesday and bagels were purchased. Now, as I mentioned, yesterday I had one of these bagels, an everything bagel. As a child, the thought would have horrified me. My mature palate however, adores the everything. Matt, not so much. In fact, when granddad finally stumbled out of bed, he grimaced at me for about 10 minutes saying that something stinky was coming out of our air vents. Yes, he thought the smell of a toasting everything bagel was a dead animal. That was nice.

Incidentally, it’s getting to be about that time. For me to go kill an animal and put in our vent. So, real quick, just two more things.

There’s a new post on On the Couch. We cover the show Reaper. I think there might be an entry for Kid Nation by the end of the day. Matt and I are actually going out of town (-ish, I’m just going to the ham) this weekend, so these will probably be our last entries until next week.

Other news, I happened upon an amazing show on PBS yesterday. It’s called Word World and it made me really which I had age appropriate children who I could make watch it. I was mesmerized and though I’m fairly good with phonics and spelling, I watched the entire program. I want you to see it too.

Seriously, how cool is this?

2007-09-26T06:09:00.001-07:00

Day off

the magna carta is apparently for sale Usually, I wouldn’t be interested buuuuuut, somebody has a birthday coming up (becca r, I’m looking at you!) so I might bid on it. I might.

So we finally, finally went to target yesterday. Now, despite some bickering (matt and I seem very prone to bicker in the grocery store. My fault, primarily. I’m not very patient with him when food is involved), the deed was done and never have you seen two more relieved people. We weren’t going to starve or anything but, well, I had a can of beans for lunch before we left. Black-eyed peas, actually. But they’re not fooling anyone. They are clearly beans. This means that once we got home with our prizes, we (by which I mostly mean I) spent the afternoon grazing because we could. Matt’s the one who pointed out that “we” were doing this, but I’m fairly certain he drew that conclusion after I ate, not one, but two fake cheese-based products. And a LOT of humus.

It was a good day, though.

A lot of the Cosby show was watched, half of an even stevens (the movie one, which is really delightful). I finished the movie Thirteen. Incidentally, besides being the most depressing movie ever, this movie has become noteable because it stars Vanessa whatshername from High School Musical. At least that’s what the lifetime (shut up) previews say. But the thing is, it definitely, definitely doesn’t star her at all. In fact, when I was watching the movie, before I saw the promo, she was so un-prominently featured that I was only about 40 percent sure it was even her. But on the commercial, they like slowed down the frame she was walking through and pretended like she was a main character. Stupid. I expect more from you, lifetime!

Some awesome news on the tv front: TBS is showing old episodes of the Office. Great! Matt and I enjoyed the Basketball Game and the Insurance episode. It’s weird to see how the characters have all gotten subtly better looking. In the first season they were really committed to making the characters look pretty rough and like folks who haven’t seen the sun in awhile. Pam’s hair was more frizzed out, Michael had hairplugs and was fatter, and I’m pretty sure none of the women were wearing makeup. It feels a tiny bit like they sold out by prettying up everyone, but it’s a good enough show that I will forgive them. And really, they all looked pretty rough…

So here’s the big news, the piece de resistance: Matt and I have started a joint blog. You may have noticed, if you’re a blogger reader, that my profile now reads “Matt and Francesca” and has a photo of the two of us. Well, that’s because I’m not terribly adroit at how to give myself two separate profiles. So, really, this one belongs on the new blog, On the Couch with Matt and Francesca. Matt and I will be reviewing (ish) television shows, each recording our own thoughts about them. The blog was matt’s idea, but I went ahead and put it together last night after I watched Chuck. Anyways, if you’re a tv junky you might like it. You will see that, obviously, matt’s significantly more analytical than I am and I, true to form, just sort of write whatever comes in my head. Anyways, check it out at On the Couch with Matt and Francesca. Sorry about the ungainly address. Onthecouch was taken, as was Otc. Beyond that, it would have gotten rough if I started shortening it more. Stop by, tell us what you think, share it with a friend.

You’re good people, you know?

Maybe I should stop with all the animal videos but dang it! I like animals! And this might be a little stupid or it might be kinda great.

2007-09-25T06:21:00.001-07:00

Yay for rice

When I got home from work last night, I was so tired I couldn’t move. All my extremities were aching and it took me about ten minutes to work up the chutzpah to get off the couch when it was time for bed. This either means my body has just atrophied from years of being ignored or that I’m just so lazy that 8 hours of standing around is enough to do me in. Either way, I was not a fan. Not a fan at all.

You’ll be glad to know edgar (the night terror) has mellowed some the last two nights. I thought that maybe Sunday it was because I stayed up late. He’ll stay up with me, which buys us a few more hours of sleep. (Incidentally, we were watching deathproof, the Quentin half of Grindhouse. I only watched about half but, I’m not going to lie, I wasn’t a big fan). But last night he did alright too. He woke me up at 5:30 but I don’t mind that so much. Sure he wakes me up, but I usually have to visit the ladies’ room about then anyways, and since he pretty much went back to sleep right after, that was good. But then he did definitely stand on my bedside table and meow into my face until I woke up at 7:30. That was a little annoying.

Matt and I are going to target today. It’s been about two weeks since we’ve been grocery shopping and that’s big for us. We’re usually weekly shoppers. I would put it off longer, but we’re at a critical, empty cabinets need. So that was an interesting story, I thought.

Yeesh. Is it totally obvious when I don’t have a thing to talk about? I think it just might be.

I’m putting a fork in it. Matt and I watched this episode last night. This song is so bad that it’s great.

2007-09-24T06:43:00.000-07:00

Mustachioed

As you probably know, during the fall, my Saturdays are hijacked by football. This means that my usually innocuous and sleepy husband often gets up sooner than I do or, at the very least goes and claims the tv before me. The tv gets put on and stays on ESPN. You’ll be surprised to hear, that’s not quite my favorite channel. Of course, I demure to his football tendencies, because I know they mean a lot to him and really, let’s be honest, I woman the tv almost all the rest of the week.

This week was a particular cause for ESPN induced excitement for the hubs because Game Day (that annoying show where people yell for 2 hours) was being held at his beloved, University of Alabama. Eventually (we only have three other rooms, after all), I ended up on the couch watching it with him. While it was definitely still a lot of annoying people making a ruckus and the hosts were talking about stuff I didn’t care about, there were moments for me to enjoy. First, there were the signs that were merely people’s names and an arrow pointing down to them (presumably. Their actually bodies were outside of the field of view). I like that kind of moxie. But the hands down best sign was a picture of a man, it looked like some sort of professional sitting, from maybe 1978 or 1982. The man had a slight white man’s fro and a mustache that rivaled burt Reynolds. There was something written below the picture, but it was obscured. Matt and I expended a lot of energy trying to figure out what the sign said. Eventually I cried, “it says ‘the stache’!” Then we realized that the full inscription was “Fear the stache.” But the fact remains, we had no idea who the man was.

But it made me happy, down in my heart.

A little later that day I went into the choc shop. I spent a good chunk of the day assembling (incorrectly, it turned out) assortment boxes of chocolate. Which meant I was in the back room and got to have some good chat with the boss and one of my other coworkers, Jennifer. I noted to the boss lady that, with increasing frequency, people keep confusing me with her. Either they ask me if I’m the owner (there was a story in the paper a few weeks ago and people assume I’m her) or, as happened once, an old lady will come up to me and talk about what time she needed me at the event that night. I was thoroughly confused but trying to be polite. This went on for about 10 minutes, her saying things to me that I didn’t understand and me trying not to say, “what the fudgesicles are you talking about?” So I tell this to heather and she concurs that it’s strange since we don’t really resemble each other at all.

Wouldn’t you know, later that night after heather left, a lady came in all atwitter yelling, “I brought in another friend from Decatur!” and excitedly telling me that the party for her mother went great and everyone loved the chocolate. I smiled over my confusion. This went on for her entire visit (and she was very garrulous) until, literally after she was checking out, she said, “oh. You’re not the owner, are you?” At this point I had to admit, gently, that she definitely had never met me. It’s awkward, to be sure.

I know you guys have probably been chomping at the bit to hear another podcast from the movie talk show. I know you guys all just loved the woody allen special. I promise I haven’t been neglecting to post them. As it turned out, we have been preempted the last three weekends for women’s sports coverage. Well, go on, girls, but I have to admit, it’s getting a little annoying. Fear not. Our host, Ben, is considering moving our time slot. Which he can definitely do, since he’s the station manager. I’ll keep you posted.

Anyways, not a thrilling blog but I think you’ll find that this video more than makes up for it. Brought to our attention by the superstar who is Jason Roche, matt and I have been reciting snippets to each other all weekend.

2007-09-21T06:42:00.001-07:00

Kicking face and taking names

Seriously, how great was yesterday’s clip? It made me love Walker Texas Ranger (who I have a tendency to malapropism it as texas walker ranger) and conan for having a Walker lever. We could all use one of those.

Yesterday was my day off. It was magnificent. I didn’t leave the house. Well, I didn’t leave it to do anything productive. Matt and I went to Buffalo Wild Wings for lunch. I find myself increasingly unable to curb my appetite for buffalo sauce. I get this desire for it in my belly and I just can’t rest until my lips are slightly charred. Though, let’s be honest, I get the mild kind. I’m just a baby, as jack black might sing (that’s a really, really good song, PS). But it’s still pretty toasty. Yesterday, at the BWW, we had the peculiar experience of sitting down and immediately noticing that one of the faces stretched across an enormous screen showing ESPN was a friend of matt’s, dan sellers. He’s the current sports editor of the Crimson White (matt’s old position). Unfortunately, we couldn’t hear what was being said, but it appeared to be going well. Like a proud papa, matt was practically glowing. He hired Dan so to see him splashed across ESPN was a delight for him. (incidentally, they were doing a student face-off, so they had the sports editor from Georgia sharing the split screen). Anyways, that was neat. And my buffalo sauce was great. And did you know that they will give you cheese on your chips or wedges? Oh yes, they will.

After that, I caught up on my podcast listening and played a lot, a lot of computer games. Pogo.com is my game stop of choice. They have enough free games that, even after years of playing them, I’m still finding new and fun games. Yesterday I stumbled on a came called ride the tide which involves betting on whether the next card drawn will be lower or higher. It’s a lot more fun than it sounds. I got through a number this week’s This American Life, a bunch of Fresh Airs, and even most of the NPR Movies podcasts.

As you can see, things were going just swimmingly for me. Which is what makes the next story just shocking.

(ooh, one of my favorite songs from Dreamgirls is on. Effie, Sing My Song is sort of like an awesome recitative between brother and sister. Very heartfelt and I don’t think I need to tell you that I totally and with all my heart, sing both parts.)

So matt was close to leaving and I was gazing out the window. Skinny cat was out by the dumpster. Thus, in addition to the garbage, I made matt take out with him a bowl made of aluminum foil filled with some cat food. This cat really is pretty pathetic, so tiny and always hanging out by the dumpster. So we give it food now and again.

So all is well, right? Well, a little while later, I’m checking on my little skinny cat. Looking out the window I see that there is a young boy at the dumpster. He tries to throw his garbage bag into the hole in the dumpster that is slightly above his head. It doesn’t quite work, so he throws it again with a lot of force and frustration. Then, he goes over to the nearby gutter and totally kicks over the cats bowl of food and takes off at a dead sprint across the parking lot and back to his apartment. Do I need to tell you that I was livid? I was about a quarter inch away from stepping out onto my porch and old lady-ing it, “HEY! What do you think you’re doing?!?!” I restrained myself but I’m not joking, it was just barely. I am happy to report, however, that when I checked again, little kitty appeared to have no problem with eating it off the ground. So he did get to eat, but no thanks to that little renegade jerk.

Man!

So, if you are planning to get season three of the office, you might not want to watch this if you’re anal about watching extras in the order they come. If you aren’t planning to get season three, maybe this will make you rethink that terrible decision. There is a single dirty word in it. Cover the children’s ears.

2007-09-20T07:10:00.000-07:00

Dinner and a show

Well how about this for a good neighbor? On my way home from work yesterday night, just as I was driving into our part of the apartment complex, I noticed a flash of neon in the window of the building across the way from us. It was a small sign, so I went a little out of my way to get a closer look. Neon, it turns out, has the exact desired effect on me. It caught my eye and made me want to find out what it said. To my dismay, I found that this small, L-shaped arrow sign was emblazoned with the words “live nude.” Ah. Good. That’s really excellent. All class, all the time in our apartments. Like the woman who was awesomely having an angry yelling conversation on her cell phone sitting in front of her apartment on Sunday. The day we had our windows opened to enjoy the weather. Gah.

In other news, mark, the corporate guy who helped us open our stores was back yesterday, aiding in production and just kinda visiting. We got to have an excellent moment of musical theater dorkiness when he asked me if I was familiar with the show Rent. It being an embarrassingly cool thing when I was in the throws of my musical love, I responded by singing “Rent, rent, rent, re-ent, rent/ We’re not gonna pay rent/ cause (he joined in on harmony here) everything is re-eh-ent.” Our coworkers looked on in horror. He’s a fairly acclaimed singer in town and he let me listen to a recording of him singing One Song, Glory and I, appropriately, appreciated it to the point of lip-synching along heartfeltedly. It was a good night at work for me.

There are certain things we’ve come to depend on edgar for. For instance, he will always proudly wake us between 5 and 5:30 (today he was a model of timeliness waking me at precisely 5). He will continue to act out until someone gets out of bed. He has another incredibly enjoyable habit. He cannot abide for a second by the thought of my contacts remaining on the counter. As soon as they are in the case, he begins dribbling them like a talented soccer player, eventually pushing them off the counter. Not content to merely jostle and drop my contacts, he is then compelled to continue messing with them until he has worked them precisely to the center of underneath our towel holder (thanks to having a whopping one towel rack in our apartment and having decidedly two towels that get used everyday, we invested in this free standing towel rack. Without a towel on it, it looks amazingly like a walker tucked into the corner of our bathroom.) Anyways, making up the base is a piece of plexiglass about a ½ inch off the ground. Edgar shoves my contacts under it inevitably and I end up having to pull the whole thing out of its resting place to get my contact. Which edgar inevitably pushes off the counter again and the whole charade begins again.

It’s a little much.

I’m trying to think of more thrilling things to tell you. And I can’t think of a thing. So instead, I’ll leave it to conan to make you feel good inside.

2007-09-19T09:32:00.000-07:00

You built that?

Sorry for the lack of love yesterday. It’s nothing personal. I’m just lazy.

Case in point: there is a ninety-five percent chance that I fell asleep at 9 last night. There is more than a chance that my cat went berserk from about 5 to 7. At 7, he subsided because I finally gave up and got out of bed. We have been able to deduce that the madness of king ed is based solely on his desire to wake me up and have me pay attention to him. So I got up, stumbled into the main room, turned on my computer, fully intending to give up on sleep and write a blog. Instead, I sat, then sort of fell into a lay on the couch. Edgar crawled up to sleep against my belly (aw, cats), and I definitely slept on the couch until 8:45. If you do the math there, that is, very nearly, 12 hours of sleep. Disgraceful.

Oh, side note, when I finally did wake up at 8:45 today, it was too a solitary thought: cinnamon rolls. Now, I had, up until that very moment, forgotten we had a can of Cinnabon cinnamon rolls just ripe for the plucking in our fridge but as soon as that memory floated into my mind, I got up straight away and got right to it. They were good. And big. And I ate two. And now I feel kinda pukey. The pukey little puppie.

In other news, I was in the ham for a bit yesterday. I went to the eye doctor where I had the unsettling experience of having my eyelids numbed (weird), then visited with the family for a bit. Rebecca and I, for reasons I cannot recall, began amusing ourselves with various renditions of “these pretzels are making me thirsty,” a la Seinfeld. My mother, who wasn’t really listening, responded to our chorus of “these pretzels etc” by saying, “what? Are you girls hungry or something? do you need a snack?” parents are often delightful.

I’m going to keep this short today because I don’t have much else to say and it’s pathetically already 11:20. I leave you with amazing clip that matt and I stumbled on. We had just watched a snippet of Yo Gabba Gabba (which I think I might love; matt thought it was stupid) and then this happened. Oh my.

Aw crap. I can’t find the exact clip. But I think this will give you an idea of what we were dealing with…

2007-09-17T07:01:00.001-07:00

I Braveheart

Well, hello gang. I hope you had a nice weekend. Mine was mostly working and then decidedly not. Would you like me to tell you about it? Ok, I will!

Friday and Saturday were occupied with a bevy of work. It was pretty uneventful Friday, but Saturday had an exciting/horrifying moment. Saturday was the first day since we’ve opened that our manager/owner felt confident enough to be absent the entire day. And she should feel confident enough for that. Split between myself and Carla, the day would always have someone who had been there from the start and we both are confident on all manner of topics in the store.

Well, I got there at twelve. Carla left, shortly thereafter, to run and get lunch for she and another girl working. A little bit after she left, I was on the register and got an error message. And then the program we use for register-ing shut off. No big deal, just turn it back on, right? Well, not so fast there. You have to sign on to this program. And the thing about the sign in is that when I set up my name, I apparently typed in different numbers than I thought I was. So I can’t sign in. Which means that we didn’t have a register. Which means I peed in my pants a little.

There was a line and I sheepishly explained the problem and told them I needed to call someone. I figured, no prob, I would just call heather (the owner) and get her sign in info. But alas, three phone calls later, she wasn’t answering. I didn’t have carla’s number, but one of the other two girls working thought she might be able to get it. So she started calling people. I called my own personal husband who works with heather’s husband to get his number. Matt doesn’t answer.

The customers are waiting patiently. I’m quietly having a nervous breakdown.

So I do what you do. Bust out a calculator, take down people’s credit card info with a sincere promise that they’re info will go into the computer asap and then will be destroyed. This seemed to work ok and thankfully the people were all very nice about it. Then some lady payed with cash. Well, we didn’t have register capabilities. So the three of us working are all scrounging our mostly empty wallets to come up with change.

Seriously, I’m getting a nosebleed just thinking about it.

Anyways, Carla came back, got us signed in, and my heart tried to return to normal. That was kinda worst case scenario. Later heather called back and I’m sure she thought we were burning the place down, judging by the forty-five phone calls on her phone.

That was pretty much the extent of my excitement for the weekend. I watched the last four minutes of the bama game and, though now the fans are being intolerable, it was definitely an exciting win.

Sunday was spent just as a Sunday should be. We went to church, got excited about going to ihop, saw that everyone in the free world was there for breakfast, went to sonic instead, and then spent the better part of the day watching the rest of The Office season three. Hence the title: it’s from Safety Training, one of a season full of hilarious stuff. And the end of the season, oh man! Makes me cry every time!

So it was a good day. Unfortunately, however, I need to do dishes from dinner still. That is not fun. And they stink. Which makes me want to puke. Ew.

This makes me want to puke. But that’s because it’s freaking adorable! I promise, I’ll stop posting cute animals as soon as I stop finding awesome videos of them.

Very Hungry Kitten

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2007-09-14T05:20:00.001-07:00

Brevity (or, a welcomed change)

Yesterday was my day off. I reverted to my post-wedding, pre-job hermitism. It was great. Never have you seen a girl more happy to be doing not a thing. I did some reading, I took a monster nap on the couch, we watched a lot of season 3 of the office. I did not fix my hair. I looked like an imbecile. Matt went to the dentist and he has to get a root canal this morning (his second!). We finally ate the stew that had been in the freezer. It wasn’t very good the first time around, but we doctored it a little and it turned out better. It started raining in the early evening and, as far as I can tell, it still hasn’t stopped. Wild. I watched the I Love Lucy with Harpo Marx. I wish I could play the harp. Always have. What an awesome instrument to be able to say you could play. And to have in your house. I listened to Radiolab podcasts, This American Life podcasts, and a snippet of Fresh Air. I made Matt buy me some m&ms when he went for his tooth medicine. It was a good decision. I’ve never met a plain m&m I didn’t like.

(edgar is making very strange chirpy noises at the window).

I worried about the skinny cat who hangs around our dumpster, but callously fell into my nap before I got up and gave her some food. So I’m still worried about skinny cat. I made sam really happy with the turtle video I posted yesterday. I reported a lost disk to netflix. I took a bath, first thing in the morning. Oh, and matt was on the radio (which had me doing my donna summers impressions again). I went to bed at eleven and edgar forced me from slumber at 6:45. Ben Folds is now singing Fired (the song with the F-word a lot) from one of my favorite albums of all time, Rockin’ the Suburbs.

And that’s all I have to say.

This seems like a terrible idea, but it’s so cute I could scream.

2007-09-13T05:43:00.000-07:00

Salty pirate woman

Aw, I’m feeling not very bloggy again this morning. You have been warned.

Maybe the song People from the 1964 original broadway cast recording of Funny Girl is on right now and maybe I’m fighting hard the urge to sing. Matt has a sore tooth and I don’t think he’d ever forgive me for a Barbara Streisand impression at 7:29 this morning.

But, man, is it hard.

Edgar persists in his reign of terror. After spending about two hours making a collection of bumps and meows in the night, his little production culminated in a leap from a bookshelf some three feet away and two feet higher directly on to my attempting-to-sleep feet, causing me to sit up straight. It’s not a good time to be trying to sleep in our apartment these days.

Yesterday, I was shocked to get to work and see not the usual two people working, but a whopping 5. It was a little alarming. Then about a half hour later, another employee was there. On the one hand, it was great to have the extra folk. We were actually able to prep and package things. On the other hand, it was totally overwhelming and almost crowded. It kinda ratcheted up the stress, in a weird way. Anyways, I’ve been in a grouchy mood for the past couple days anyways, so I’m pretty sure that the new people thought I was a nasty mean human. I’m really not. Just a grouch lately.

I feel like I haven’t been fair to edgar by calling this time his reign of terror. He is definitely a nightmare when I’m trying to sleep but, once I get up, he’s a prince. At this very moment, he’s sitting faithfully next to my computer and gazing at me adoringly. Of course, this could be part of his nefarious scheme. It’s why I get into bed every night going, “no, tonight will be different. He will sleep right through.” He doesn’t.

Mad props to Jessica o and hubs on the newest member of their adorable family. His name is jake and he’s awesome. I’m already his biggest fan.

I’m trying to let bob and the wailers get me feeling mellow. Because I feel like today’s going to be another one of those days where I just want to bite things.

And on that note, I’m calling this a blog, albeit a crappy one.

Sometimes I can’t quite work out why certain videos (such as this one) come up in my subscriptions on youtube. But watching this one, while taking long, slow breaths, seemed to help…I love a good sea turtle.

2007-09-12T06:21:00.000-07:00

Burgers, bags, apples, etc.

My apologies for the neglect yesterday. I woke up not feeling so hot and then I had laundry to do and…well, that was enough of an excuse for me. Because I’m lazy. Also, I really didn’t have anything to say. I worked all day Monday. That was pretty much it.

Anyways, I’m back and oh, the stories I’ve got to weave for you. Yesterday was my day off and, in addition to feeling sick and doing laundry, I took many wondrous voyages and experienced a plethora of adventures.

After lazing and laundering for the morning, matt and I took a thrill-ride trip to chili’s for lunch. I don’t know, maybe it’s all the office we’ve been watching…I just had a hankering for their chips and salsa. Off we went. The madness ensued.

First, there is the fact that my slightly younger husband who I constantly make fun of for being an old man, went ahead and, without hesitation, ordered the Old Timer Burger. “old timer? Really matt?” He, in a very old man sort of way, retorted, “sometimes I just want a plain burger without all the flashy sauces.” Self-fulfilling prophecy there.

Then there was the matter of our server. At one point, when replenishing our drinks he said to me, “aren’t you a little young to like art garfunkel?” Matt, entirely missing that I was wearing my shirt that reads “I (heart) art” which I added the word “Garfunkel” to, responded enthusiastically, “She loves him!” The server, giving him the look you give a fruit fly when it’s buzzing around you, continued, “I think they were better as a pair though.” I agreed and said that I just had to make the shirt true, since I don’t really have strong feelings about art, just. Matt was gazing at some of the faux nostalgia lining the walls.

When the server left, I pointed out my shirt to matt. He had, to that point, thought that, apropos to nothing, our server had just decided to come up and start talking to me about art garfunkel. Yeesh. Needless to say, I laughed at him even more than over the old timer.

About this time, we noticed it was monsooning out. We still had a target trip to make so, though we tried to put off leaving, we had to suck it up and enter the nasty weather. Well, actually, matt braved it. I stood, dignified, under the awning while matt forded the unfortunate river that the rain plus crappy zombie mall’s parking lot formed. When he picked me up, he informed me that the water was over his ankles and that he was afraid he had contracted some disease (through his feet), because it was the run-off from the nasty mall. I didn’t want to worry him, but ew. It’s a definite possibility.

My old timer is, just at the moment, still sleeping. Edgar has persisted in his need to compulsively wreck our sleep and, really, the only thing that stops him is if someone gets up with him. He then proceeds to ignore the awake person, but he does stop yowling. Anyways, matt feels bad if I get up before him, but in all honesty, I go to sleep before him, so I don’t think it’s a problem.

So we went to target. We used our little envirosax and our entire trip loaded snugly into the five bags. It would have all been fine except…matt had to be the one to deliver them to our check out lady. He sort of hates the bags and gets really embarrassed by them. As she started bagging (I was still loading stuff of the conveyor) he said, as quietly as possible, “actually, we have our own bags…” I could tell, he wanted to cry. But he bagged like a champ and, despite my encouragement and praising of our environmentally-conscious move, I’m not sure he’ll ever forgive me. He was like, “did you see everyone looking at us?” I denied it vehemently but…I’m pretty sure I felt them boring holes into us too.

Matt’s sister Lauren came over for dinner and much, much (too much, really) food was consumed. I even made dessert. An apple bake with crumbly topping and vanilla ice cream. Dang, it was good. Maybe I’ll have some of that for breakfast. What? Apples, fruit. Crumbly topping, oats. Ice cream, milk. Totally healthy!

Ah. The sweet sounds of ann reinking, aileen quinn and albert finney are washing over me as the trio ecstatically sings Let’s Go to the Movies. It’s going to be a great day.

Well, this is fairly awesome. You’re welcome in advance for the fact that this will be stuck in your head all day.

2007-09-10T06:36:00.001-07:00

Punching me in the grief bone

Man alive. I went to bed at 9:30 last night. Well, I got into bed at 8:45 and read for a bit. But when I finally committed to sleep, it was only 9:30. That was the best decision I’ve made since marrying my best buddy. You might remember that edgar had been carrying on like a maniac when we left this narrative last week. Well, he persisted in the madness on Saturday morning (I was awakened at 4 and not really allowed to get back to sleep after that). So last night, we my head started nodding at 8, I though, “ah, screw it! I’m going to bed geriatric-ly early.” The troubling part is that, while I slept pretty solidly until 7:30 (there were, obviously, edgar-related disturbances) when I stumbled out of bed at 7:30, I made it as far as to the couch where I collapsed again and slept for another 15 minutes. I’ve just been crazy exhausted. So there.

So the weekend was pretty good. I had to pull 9 hour shifts back to back on Friday and Saturday. Saturday’s shift ended up being particularly painful because we had to do this custom order, which involved making chocolate covered rice krispie treats. Only, they had to be heart-shaped. So I spent a long, long time cutting out those hearts. And the trouble with tin cookie cutter is that, after about 20 cut outs (and these were thick and hard to get through), your hand really starts hurting. So by the end of my shift, I noticed that my palms and thumbs were bruised. Ouchie! This chocolate business is not all fun and sugar like they make it look on tv. Of course, it’s part my own fault. My boss did offer to step in on the cutouts, but I like to finish what I start. I’m stubborn like that.

Of course, if the first part of the weekend was stressful, it was more than made up for by the laziest of Sundays. Matt and I went to church (where, blessedly, the baby symphony was set on low), then proceeded to wigglesbottom wicked bean coffee (they changed the name from Bad Ass coffee to some stupid name that I have given the moniker of “wigglesbottom). We got the Birmingham News and the Tuscaloosa News since there was a story about the shop in the Tusc news. We drank coffee and read papers. Then we came home.

From there we started to watch season 3 of the office, lovingly bestowed upon us by our friend clare, who got us the set as an awesome, awesome wedding gift. We watched about three episodes then, finding out that our radio show got the axe in favor of a university volleyball game, we decided to go see 3:10 to Yuma.

Now as a rule, I’m not a western fan. But this was a dang fine movie. The plot, the themes are great but the acting is just outstanding. In your two leads, Christian Bale and Russell Crowe, you’ve got a serious clash of the titans. These two guys just bring it and are both such effortless actors. It’s amazing to see them together. And ben foster, who is, I think a fairly young actor, had a surprisingly commanding presence on screen. Commanding and unsettling. It was really, really good. Though, I have to admit, it was violent enough that I had to cover my face a good bit. I can’t stomach violence too well.

Of course, from that came one of the more disturbing aspects of our screening: at this movie, rated a hard R for violence and language, we had what sounded to be a 5 year old girl sitting behind us. What the junk? Who takes a little kid to an R-rated western? Of course, we also had a baby, as in, an infant, in our screening as well, so I’ve found it’s just as well to maybe not ask questions…sometimes I get really annoyed with this town and it’s one theater.

After the movie? Well, matt and I watched more of the office, of course. It’s such an awesome show to have a marathon of. It just gets better and better. By that time, it was pretty much eight, and time for me to hit the sack.

I hope you all had a wonderful weekend to. Tell me about it, will ya? And enjoy a little of what I was enjoying yesterday.

2007-09-07T06:27:00.000-07:00

Nobody’s ready for that mixture

Gar. I woke up with a headache this morning. That’s just got to be my least favorite thing in the world. Usually I roll out of bed and feel like a bucket of freshly picked daisies with the whole world in front of me and sometimes I sing. This morning, I stumbled out of bed feeling like a bucket of dead fish and blowed my nose, hoping that maybe my dull head throb could be attributed to a full nose. Alas, no. so here I sit, with a mild scowl on my face and an ache in my head.

So I received a very exciting bulletin from one of my dear and close myspace friends yesterday. By which I mean, a famous person I’ve befriended: wonderful Sondre Lerche who I own some 3 cds of and who very frequently makes appearances on mix cds. Turns out he, like jack Johnson or ben folds before him, is attached to do all the music for a major motion picture event, Steve Carrell’s fall or Christmas release Dan in Real Life. Now, I’m a serious steve carrell fan. He has, more than once, brought a little tear to my eye with his work. Yes, even Michael scott periodically makes me boo hoo. So that sort of interested me in the movie, but then, the preview was a tiny bit schmaltzy looking. I was on the fence. But now knowing that one of my favorite musicians is attached to it, I’m going to have to go represent. And honestly, I think it does help a lot to love the music in a film. For instance, I adore wes Anderson films and it’s in part because I like his stories, I love his palettes, but music plays a big part too. He picks excellent songs and mark Mothersbaugh’s incidental music is a kick in the pants. And then there is the curious case of the surprisingly good film Over the Hedge. Besides awesomely being a kids film that made fun of the culture of consumerism, I was constantly under attack by terrific original songs by ben fold. It was just so neat to hear his new music in a movie theater.

So. That’s that. Now I’m excited about Dan in Real Life.

Since I’m crizazy, I went to the library yesterday after my mini-shift at the chocolate shop. I had an overdue book. I told you: crazy. I checked out three books that there’s no way I’ll finish before the due date, but I’m very excited about all of them. The first, which I started right away, is Jon Krakauer’s Into the Wild. Now, way back when I was first starting college I read his book Into Thin Air, about that big mount everest disaster. It was a good book, in the end, but it took some getting into. There was a lot of technical jargon to sift through. This one (its older) is about a kid who graduated college and pretty much disappeared, giving away his savings and changing his name, to hitchhike across the country and up to alaska, where he eventually died in the wilderness. Being more biographical than about a big event, it’s already proved to be much more readable. I’m sorry to say, I checked it out because I read about the upcoming movie based on it. I mean, I’m not just reading it because of the movie, it’s just that the Entertainment Weekly Fall Movie Preview is what made me aware that the book existed.

I also got a biography of Stephen Sondheim and a book called Small is the New Big. The subtitle reads, “and 183 riffs, rants, and remarkable business ideas.” Sounds right up my dorky, nonfiction, Freakonomics, Blink, and Tipping Point-reading self. I’m excited. I really do like the library. It’s like a bookstore. Only free. And I don’t end up buying stationery and magazines.

Well, the headache persists. I just might go try to blow my nose again. When in doubt, boosh it out, as I always say.

2007-09-06T06:21:00.001-07:00

Bright City Lights

I know that most people get up significantly earlier than me and would love nothing more than to get to sleep in until 7:30. That said, I didn’t get home from work until 9 last night (which meant about nine hours on my feet. The dogs, unused to this kind of abuse, were barking), didn’t finish cleaning up the kitchen from dinner until 10:30 and didn’t go to bed until 12. Oh sure, that’s a respectable 7 ½ hours, right? Well, factor in that I couldn’t fall asleep for awhile, that my cat woke me up at 5:30 so I could top off his already full bowl of cat food (does it every day), then I had to go to the bathroom, which always fully wakes me up, then my cat bashed his head on the headboard of the bed, causing me to pop out of sleep. So when my alarm went off, I was, I would say justifiably, ready to sleep for four more days. As such, i whined a little about having to get up and then my head fell back on the pillow and I dozed. And do you know that my little fluffernut edgar started licking me on my arm, effectively waking me up. As anne murray might say, when that happened, I just fell in love again and forgave that little feline. And then got up and got grouchy again.

I dreamed first of making gift baskets at work and then of babysitting. I’m telling you. It was a fitful night!

So macys.com persists in it’s active annoying of me. Observe, if you will, the box I got yesterday from their illustrious company:

Now, that’s a big box, right? I’d like you to observe what was inside:

This is annoying for two reasons. You see, initially, when I set up this photo shoot, I thought the comedy would come from their being a single chili bowl (that’s a small bowl, for sure) enshrouded in that enormous box. It’s happened once before. So imagine my dismay when, though still a much to big box, I find within…the mixing bowl set again! This was the exact wrong thing that they sent me last time and I had to fight with them to admit that it was very much there fault that I had received the wrong item. THEY SENT IT BACK TO ME!

Heads will roll. Heads will roll. All I want is my freaking chili bowl. Pay the toll. Don’t chew skoal. What was up with that grassy knoll?

Ah, Annette Funicello is singing Mister Piano Man. She’s one of my favorite not very good singers who was famous anyways. It’s not that she’s bad, she’s just not very good. Which I respect a lot.

So I’m going back to work for a bit today though it is, in theory, my day off. Peterbrooke chocolatier has been such a success, it’s kinda been a little much. We’ve been so busy, there hasn’t really been time to get production done. So, once again proving myself to be a rockstar on a register, I’m going in to man the front for a bit this morning. Hence the alarm. You should come in and visit.

So that’s pretty much all I have to say: I’m tired, I love my cat, I hate macys. Also, I love all you folks who are writing comments. It makes me feel good in my heart.
Oh wow. Speaking of feeling good in one’s heart: the kinks. Let’s talk for a minute. Sam McDavid told me I should like them. I listened, and I knew he was right. This is one of my favorite songs from the only full album of theirs that I have, The Kinks Are the Village Green Preservation Society. I knew I loved the music. I found this video and now…oh buddy. I know I love the band on the whole.

2007-09-05T07:28:00.001-07:00

Vampire wolves of London

First, I would like to respond to the two (2!) comments I got yesterday. 1) Chocolate + Bacon = Blech 2) You’re right. Kelly is a ho. 3) if you were in Alabama I would give you chocolate, free of charge. I like you.

I was also queried about the envirosax at target. The girl ringing us up wasn’t much phased, but I did feel like a snob being like, “oh, can we just use my bags?” The problem was that there was not a separate bagger on our lane, so to use my bags meant that I was having to bag….which I am not good at. So I was kinda holding things up and I hated myself. So then matt started helping, but then he needed to pay. Anyways, she ended up making us two target bags and I only got to use four of my five envirosax. Still, it did save us from having probably 10 bags, versus 2 and, since I like as much as possible to be able to bring everything in on one trip, having four big bags instead of eight small ones went a long way in that direction. So, thought awkward, I consider the experiment a success. Despite the fact that everyone in target (my husband included) hated me.

In other news, I think that yesterday’s video is something that is so hideously terrible that it’s earth shatteringly wonderful. As matt pointed out, Saved by the Bell really reached its apex of awesome when they sincerely tried to be serious. Like that little display you saw yesterday. Kelly’s answer of whether she liked the other guy (“No…yes…”) was delivered with such feeling, I completely understood what she was going through. I also really enjoyed how badly our two singers were lip-synching. That was good stuff.

Yesterday was my first day off in a long time. It was magical. Honestly, I’m just so lazy. I knew I needed to get a job and all, but man, did I really like sitting at home all day. It’s probably just as well. I was about a year away from just turning into a full-onset recluse. That, or being a hermit, has always seemed very appealing to me. Then I remember panera and movie theaters and change my mind.

The coughing is still happening. I was really hoping that my off day would be enough for me to recover. Alas, I again woke up matt with a cacophony of coughs. This is troubling because, working at a chocolate shop like I do, coughing is very unsavory. What I’ve taken to doing is running to the back corner of the back of the shop, where we have a bunch of unopened boxes of paper products in a nook. I cough all over them. It’s not ideal, but that place is a freaking landmine of things that it is not good to cough on. I figured that unopened boxes were a safe bet, short of sticking my head out the back door. Which isn’t a bad idea now that I think about it. Anyways, it’s a lot of running to the back, hacking, then washing my hands and changing my gloves. It would be really, really nice if this mess could knock it off.

Journey is very heartfeltedly belting Don’t Stop Believin’ in my ear. I appreciate someone who can sing with such gusto, but I won’t lie, when their entire live album got played one night last week when we working…I was not such a fan.

I wouldn’t keep putting improv everywhere videos up if they weren’t so dang awesome. Enjoy. And have a fabulous Wednesday.

2007-09-04T07:16:00.000-07:00

Snot what it seems

The cold persists. Last night I got to lull matt and edgar to sleep with a symphony of coughs. They woke up to the same thing. Magical!

I went walking this morning. I guess I went out earlier than I usually do and there was a solid buttload of people there, walking around the park. Which wasn’t so good for me. Because in short order I got stuck behind a lady.

You’re probably thinking, “francesca, why didn’t you just go around her?” Well, she was a short and stout lady and she was booking it pretty hard but she had about 6 inches less legs than my already stubby stalks. Plus, as I say, she was portly. I thought it might be a crushing blow to her for me, another stout-ish person to pass her. So I strolled. I was a stroller. Then I cut through the park, because Macarthur Park came on, and you just can’t have a leisurely stroll to that number. You have to book it.

Speaking of choosing to live a healthy lifestyle, I’m making chocolate chip muffins for breakfast. Oh yeah. I approve of any breakfast food that you can sneak chocolate into and still be like, “what? It’s breakfast!” Of course, when your packing in the chocolate chip muffins or chocolate chip pancakes, everyone knows your just eating a cookie for breakfast. I can live with that knowledge.

Today is my first full-out leisurely day I’ve had in awhile. Sure, I didn’t work on Sunday, but I spent four hours in a car, so it wasn’t a walk in the park (behind a woman who was on the fatter side). I had to work 12 to 8:30 yesterday at the chocolate shop. While it’s enjoyable work, that sure is a long time to be on your feet. So today, I woke up with the delightful knowledge that I’ve got nowhere to be. Sort of. We need to go grocery shopping. Which I’m a little stressed about.

Did I tell you about the bags that I bought because oprah told me? The reusable grocery bags? Well, this will be the first time I’m using them for a big shopping trip. And I’m afraid. All I want in life is not to make people who work hard in retail stores angry. I think these bags just might do it. On the other hand, I’m so dang sick of all the plastic bags we end up with AND hello, it’s a planet-friendly move. So I’m just going to suck it up and hope for a friendly (maybe planet-friendly) bagger.

So, in all my time in the car Sunday I listened to most of this book on cd I bought the other day. I primarily bought it because it was 5 dollars. Turns out, it was quite a nice listen, despite its cumbersome title. The Prize Winner of Defiance Ohio: How My Mother Raised 10 Children on 25 Words or Less (see!) told the very enjoyable story of a mom who entered contests like her life depended on it (because it kind of did) in the 50s and 60s and kept her family in the toasters and cash prizes. Now, back then, contests were skill-based, so careful study meant you could figure out what certain companies were looking for in an essay or limerick or jingle. So this lady sort of figured out how to beat the system. She knew what they wanted and then she’d put in 15 entries per contest, varying her name or address slightly with each entry.

Well! Being lazy, I’ve decided that I will now enter every contest and sweepstakes I am made aware of. Now granted, sweepstakes are purely chance, but dang it, if I have the opportunity to win something, I’m going to try.

I don’t really think that’s as noble as her story.

So here’s something epic. Thanks matt for making me aware of it.

2007-09-03T07:20:00.001-07:00

Look at them and sigh

Remember that time I tried to kill my husband by tricking him into almost blinding himself using his own contacts? No? well, you obviously don’t read my blog faithfully. Tisk. Anyways, while this is not as scarring as that, I am feeling pretty bad. The plague that I had last week and the vestiges of are still in my cough? Yeah, matt’s beginning it. It starts with the swollen throat and runny nose. I’m feeling very bad.

It’s not like when you used to get sick and then maybe a sibling got sick…there was never any conclusive evidence that it was your fault. Nay, matt has very little exposure to other people (aside from the 90,000 at the game Saturday) so I’m feeling confident it’s totally my fault. And, being on the other side of that mess, I know he’s in for a sucky few days. Hate it for him.

In other news, yesterday at church I wanted to kick a baby. Actually, I probably could have kicked a couple, but there was one who was really making his presence felt. The thing about our church is that, at least at the Mass we go to, it’s like 80 percent young parents. Which is fine, which is good even. Love to see families. However, these are families who seem to be unaware of the presence of or the correct usage of a cry room. And the babies all seem to need to call to each other like monkeys in the jungle. It happens every week that there is an eventually cacophony of baby noises. I know some baby noises are to be expected, but when your child is yelling at regular intervals or, like the kid yesterday, crying at the top of his lungs for, no joke, 15 minutes, so loud that you can’t hear the priest (who is wearing a microphone!), it’s time for some baby kicking. Honestly, I know it’s not very Christian of me, but it’s also not very Christian to allow your baby to scream on end without taking them out and as a result cause the entire congregation to contemplate the kicking of babies.

To temper the experience, however, when matt and I got in our car, I looked out the passenger window to see a 3 year old girl sitting at the wheel of a humongous SUV, just staring right back at me. It made me remember why small people can be cool. They pretend to drive big cars sometimes. That’s awesome.

So my first day as a chocolateer was Saturday. We had a big day. In fact, we are rumored to have had the biggest opening of any Peterbrooke store. Go on, us! We sold lots of gelato, but, amazingly, virtually everyone who came in bought something. And it’s a little expensive, so that’s something.

As it turns out, I’m fairly awesome at selling chocolate. I think my doughy visage goes a long way to proving that our bisnatch is pretty tasty. And man, did I move those chocolate covered strawberries? I think I sold three boxes. They were 50% off in the evening. And I will tell you, I can convince people to buy things on sale. Because that’s about the only way I shop.

So that was good. I go back today and I’ll be interested to see how a Monday moves. 8 hours is a long time. I miss that about W-S. Four hour shifts are AWESOME.

Ah, Teach Your Children by Crosby, Stills, and Nash is playing right now. It’s making me think of the “Take Your Daughter to Work” episode of the office (season 2). It’s making me very happy. It’s part of a new mix cd I’m working on. It’s Back to School themed. I’m taking orders if you want one. It’s going to be fairly awesome. Hello, it’s got freaking Teach Your Children on it!

Here’s another case of someone who’s doing something that I think most people appreciate for the novelty factor…I think he’s actually pretty great.

2007-08-31T07:30:00.001-07:00

A grand day out

Despite the incessant snot in my nostrils and the scratchiness of my throat, this morning finds me more comfortable than I’ve been in weeks. Why’s that? you wonder. Well yesterday, when mr. deeds went to town (that is, I went up to the ham), I used my anthropologie gift certificate and one of the items I purchased was a chair cushion. Since the marriage, my desk chair has been a cute enough, but uncomfortable little white fold-out chair. Now it is a fold-out chair with a charming butt pillow. Wonderful! It also means that I’m a little taller this morning than I would usually be. So you do the math.

So, as I mention, mr. deed’s did go to town today. I guess anyway you slice it, I’m a big city snob. I was going to meet my friend Veronica for lunch (we used to lunch once a week when I still lived in Birmingham and I hadn’t seen her since the wedding). She very smartly chose for us to eat at Sumo, only my favorite japanese restaurant. But since I got to town a little earlier than her, I poked my head in a few places first. I was on a quest.

My buddy Jessica orso had some delightful crocs that she used to wear to W-S. Rather than looking like big, weird clogs, they looked like normal human being shoes. She inspired me. When I knew I needed closed-toe shoes for the chocolate shop, my thoughts turned to her shoes. And so, I was on a quest to find not stupid crocs. Besides, working with chocolate can be messy and it’s good to have hose-off-able shoes. So I stopped in Dick’s Sporting Goods.

Me in a sporting goods store is like water in oil. I booked it to the back, saw they only had the clogs, and left immediately. The person who greeted me also goodbyed me in under 60 seconds.

Then I went to DSW. Dang, if that place isn’t huge. I was running out of time before I needed to meet V, so I did a turbo walk through. Nothing doing.

(I just had to go get matt and my coffee. He makes it, I pour it. I also had to blow my nose so I could enjoy my tasty kona blend cuppa.)

We went to lunch, it was delicious, as I’ve come to expect. I only ran into one former coworker, which could have been awkward, but I like her and she pretty much just said “hi” and “bye” so I didn’t have to fight the panic attack too hard. Somewhere in the visiting, I queried V about where I could buy crocs. After a story involving her having to buy some at city stages against her will because her shoe broke, she mentioned a store in Cahaba Heights called Flip Flops and What Not. She didn’t know where it was, she just used to recommend it to people when she worked at a nearby store. Aha. I knew I must find it.

After that I went to the anthropologie, bought the butt cushion as well as a hairband and belt (they were on sale, that’s the only way I was able to buy so much. It’s an expensive store!). Then I continued the crocs quest.

I drove the drag I knew in Cahaba Heights and, sure enough, there it was, as hole-in-the-wall as you please. It was approximately the size of two closets. But they had what I was looking for. I now own plastic shoes.

I went across the world to macys to make a few more bridal returns (will it ever stop?) then went to my parents house. My mom’s project for me was to empty all these boxes that were in the attic. Most of them had stuff like now obsolete high school newspaper clippings and notes from friends. And the magazines. Oh the magazines. I had about two boxes of allure, in style, and, older, BB and Bopper. Yep, pull out posters of JTT and all. I’m not ashamed to say that I was as boy-crazy as they come in my middle school days. I just can’t figure out how I wasn’t completely mortified to buy Dreamboat Mags. I also can’t figure out why I thought I’d want them…they all got trashed. There were some certificates and my 8th grade diploma. Of course, the real find was my Hello Kitty diary (complete with lock) that spanned from 1990 to 1996. Though, in the later entries I enumerated my many loves, the most prevalent theme was “mom’s not fair. She hates me. I always get in trouble.” Now, my mom had me reading this out to her and she was laughing but I was feeling bad. Then I realized, I think about the only time I wrote in my diary was when I was sent to my room and was thus filled with ire. Aha.

And that’s about what happened yesterday. Not very interesting, but there it is. Now matt and I will watch a Ham on the Street episode if we have one and at some point, I will take a shower.

Now, to leave you with a warm fuzzy taste in your mouth for the weekend (um…ew?), a charming last improv everywhere video. This is particularly funny to me because I have a friend who lives in Colorado and after my wedding, well, she noticed something peculiar about where she lives.

2007-08-30T07:24:00.001-07:00

Chereth Cutestory

I’m a little annoyed this morning. Forces beyond my control seem to be conspiring to make me want to punch a wall. Gr.

The sickness has transformed from a pain in my throat to more of a scratchiness. And boogers like you wouldn’t believe. It’s epic. I’m hanging in there. And complaining a lot. I’m pretty sure this is why I rarely get sick: God gets tired of hearing me whine so he just decided to bless me with a superior immune system.

Matt and I had chicken and dumplings last night for dinner. Guess what? It was so easy. We rocked a composite recipe that used chicken broth, cream of chicken, and canned biscuits and that mother was good! I’m constantly amazed when something goes right in our tiny kitchen. After the stew incident, my confidence has been greatly shaken. But, I’m here to report, the dumpling were dumpled to perfection.

So yesterday at the chocolate shop, I had varied tasks, which was nice. We did some chocolate dipped potato chips (much, much better than you would suspect), white chocolate covered oreos, and chocolate dipped pretzel rods (easy cheesy to package. Yay!) I just like to keep y’all updated on the delicious factor of my job. I also got to try chocolate dipped nutter butters. Oh mama. That’s some good bisnatch.

Yesterday I put together a little cd called Delightful Cheese. It was primarily because I wanted to send Handyman to my little brother but since I had purchased it he couldn’t play it on his computer. So I need to burn it and reload it. But, never one to waste a cd, I quickly threw together a compilation for my listening enjoyment. Bold-facedly on the list is a song entitled Golden Dream.

Matt and I recently discovered to our delight and horror that we were both aware of this song. He from his years of living in Orlando, me from a fairly awesome (if dated) four cd set of Disney music my grandmother gave me one year for Christmas. There were about two cds of music from animated motion pictures (ending with Beauty and the Beast. I told you, dated), then a cd of songs from the live-action stuff (the sixties stuff with Annette funicello and Haley Mills), then a cd of music from tv shows and the theme park. Chief among the songs on this cd was Golden Dream. This was the culminating moment in an Epcot center attraction called The American Adventure. Now, as someone who always liked epcot, I don’t feel bad saying that most of the rides there blow chunks. The American Adventure was no exception. But the song at the end of it…oh mama. A man and a woman sing an epic song with the passion of a thousand stars burning in their chest and then, just when you think things can’t get anymore inspiring, the music takes a back seat and real soundbites from rabblerousing American speeches take the forefront.

It’s terrible. It’s wonderful. I wish I could play it for you right now.

Oh snap. If you search Golden Dream/ Epcot on youtube, there’s a video of an acapella choir singing it. It’s not quite the same, but you’ll get the idea.

Alright, so sorry it was an uninformative blog today, but I still love you from my toes up to my mucus-filled head.

2007-08-29T07:13:00.000-07:00

Everywhere such as and

A special bulletin from police commissioner edgar:

Sssaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaw33333333333
33333333333ju`8hhhhh``````````````````````````````
```````````ffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffff
ffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffbbbbbbbbbb
bbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbb
bbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbb
bbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbb
bbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbb
bbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbb
bbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbb```````````````````
`````````````````````````````````````````````````888
8888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888887777
777777777777777777777777777777777777777777777777777777777777 c`````````````````````````````````````````````````````` uu8566666

So, I think you Bs and 7s probably understand what he was trying to say when he sat on my keyboard.

Apparently I won the irish lottery yesterday. So that was good.

Something very unfortunate is happening here. I, Francesca fortress of strength, seem to be getting sick. I am pretty sore in the throat and have been since yesterday. This is somewhat unprecedented. I literally can’t remember the last time I was sick, so I’m kinda hoping I’ll get over this and not really be able to count it as being “sick” and will continue the health streak unbroken. But I’m not lying, I feel like crap.

Yesterday at work was chocolate dipped graham cracker day. Oh boy. There were other things going on, but for me, for 5 ½ hours, my life was graham crackers. Usually, I don’t mind monotonous work, but this was hard monotonous work. We had to make two types of packages: six pack and two packs (or tupacs, as I was thinking of them). The tupacs were no prob bob. The six packs made me want to kick my own face. We used the same type of bag for both sizes and the circumfrence of the bag was about exactly the size of a graham cracker. So rather than, as with the oreos, being able to pile all six near the top then snapping them into place, each individual cracker had to be painstakingly pushed into position. It was the devil.

The upside was that my partner in grahaming was a lovely coworker named whitney with whom I had many nice conversations. She asked me if I had friends down here to which I replied (rather pathetically, really), “no. That’s why this job has been so nice. I feel like I have friends.” Cue the violins. Or Best of Friends from The Fox and the Hound.

A few video comments. First, a literal video comment from Jessica. She left me a delightful prank performed by some resourceful juniors. It’s on my Myspace page for your viewing pleasure. If you’re not a myspacer, I offer you this: Lauren Caitlin Upton. You may or may not be aware of this pageant queen who gave the worlds worst, worst, worst answer in the miss teen usa competition. Phrases such as “USAmericans” and “The Iraq” and our illustrious title phrase all made appearances. It’s cringe-worthy. It’s wonderful.

But now, as promised, another improv everywhere clip.

2007-08-28T07:23:00.001-07:00

Working for the weekend

So yesterday, as a direct result of observing my fat arms for many days, I decided the best thing I could probably do would be to do some pushups (oprah told me to). She recommended starting with girly, on-your-knees push-ups and dropping all the way down to your stomach before pushing up.

Er. Yes. Please do not ask me to lift anything for you. Thank you.

I may or may not have told you that I’m writing a story for log home living. I’m in the final throws of the writing process (I’ve stretched it over many weeks). The thing about log homes is that I know jack diddly about them. I’m very frightened of this story. I’m afraid I will send it off (to, incidentally, a friend of mine, clare, which is how I got the job), and it will be the most ridiculous thing she’s ever read. Because the thing about log homes is that I don’t know a thing about them! Not a thing! Except that there are logs involved. And often people like to put them in rustic settings. That’s the extent of my knowledge.

This monkey has been on my back for awhile. I’m ready to toss it off, but the trouble is, I fear the embarrassment that will come with sending it off to clare. Because it used to be that I could send it off to someone faceless. Clare decidedly has a face.

Oh, listen, do you know that james taylor song Handyman? Matt and I found out (thank you xm satellite radio!) that it was a remake of an incredible 50s song by a gentleman named jimmy jones. It’s so very enjoyable. Seriously, I just listened to the 30-second spot on itunes again. It made me so happy. I recommend you give it a listen.

Oh! It’s so good!

Remember how I was concerned about edgar yesterday morning because he had been out awhile? Yeah, that booger stayed out until about 8:30 yesterday evening. Which is to say, I was having a heart attack that lasted all day. It’s not that he’s never stayed out for a long time, he just hasn’t since we’ve moved. AND it started pouring rain at about 5:00. It was terrible. I was so worried. Matt called me (because I was at work…more later) and said, “someone orange and soaking wet just came up meowing up to our door.”

Now, the thing about a wet cat is that it’s the most pathetic thing you’ve ever seen. Which also makes it kind of adorable. Even though it would have made me cry to see the sopping edgar, I was kinda bummed I missed it. It’s like the opening of oliver and company where he’s all pathetic and living in the street and Huey Lewis is singing, “So oliver don’t be scared/ though yesterday no one cared…”

Man, I love that movie. It was the first movie I remember seeing in the theaters. And I had the soundtrack on tape. It was a dang good soundtrack. Sometimes (in fact, it happened in the grocery store on Sunday) I sing the little song that the girl sang to oliver to matt. “You and me together will be/ we’ll always be good company/you and me/ yes, together we two.” Hmm. Pretty crappy lyrics now that I think about it.

So I worked like a mo-fo yesterday. Not entirely true, but I was on my feet for a long time. The chocolate is going in the store now. We have this machine that tempers the chocolate and now when you walk in, oh mama. It smells like a mountain of melted chocolate, because that’s what it is. Oh brother. My task yesterday, for pretty much all 7 hours that I was there, was to package chocolate covered oreos. White chocolate, dark chocolate, and milk chocolate covered oreos. For hours. Now, I don’t mind monotonous work, but this got a little old after about 5 hours, primarily because it was a little involved. They’re all laid out on trays and you have to break off the “legs” which are like the drips that are dried all around the actual cookie. We’re wearing gloves, obviously, but if you’re hands are too warm, the legs will melt on your gloves and you will smudge the cookie and eventually smudge the bag. So there is much changing of gloves and trying to will your hands to stay cool.

Anyways, really not a bad day of work, all told. And sometimes a cookie would be messed up. And then you’d have to eat it. And that was a good thing.

Man, I just bought Handyman. It’s just so good!!

Oh, so yesterday, I discovered this group via a little podcast about flash mobbing. I think this might be the coolest thing ever. They just get huge groups of people to do harmless, bizarre things. It’s great. I think I’ll be doing a series of their videos this week.

2007-08-27T06:48:00.001-07:00

Puke-fins

Hi friends. It seems like it’s been a while.

You’ll forgive me if I gag sometimes during this blog. I, being the darling little wife that I am, have some muffins in the oven for matt. Matt, not me. I like blueberries as a fruit, but bake them in something and they emit such a smell…ew. Blueberry muffins smell like babies screaming. It does not warm my heart so much as make me want to throw up in a hat. So, that’s going on.

I’m also drinking a delicious cup of coffee this morning. Matt and I will occasionally go to BadA coffee on Sunday mornings before we go grocery shopping. In a touching (?) display of old person-ness, he and I buy a Birmingham News and proceed to ignore each other while he reads sports and I cut coupons. In public. Seriously, I’m an old person.

Anyways, the point is, BadA specializes in Kona coffee. It’s akin to Blue Mountain coffee in that it’s well-loved and expensive and fabulous coffee. To buy a bag of Kona Coffee is something crazy like $50. But a cup is a pleasing $2.25. so I got a cup. Anyways, that inspired the purchase of a bag of kona blend (I can’t be buying 50 dollar bags of coffee hither and yon), and we finally broke into it today and, survey says, it’s good.

Two paragraphs to tell you I like my coffee. Honestly.

Edgar’s been a special case of bad news for the past few days. On Saturday morning, after much tossing and turning, I just gave up and got up at 7 (and watched I Know What You Did Last Summer…such a bad movie). Then Sunday morning I spent about 5 to 7 arguing with my cat. It’s just his jumping around…I’m very convinced that some 5:30 morning our downstairs neighbors are going to trot up here and demand to know why I’m throwing bowling balls at my husband at 5 in the morning. It’s bad any way you slice it.

Eventually yesterday, matt coerced ed outside. He only explored for about 5 minutes, but he came in significantly cowed. This morning, at the first signs of wildness (I believe he was kneading the side of the bed) matt put him out. Which would be fine, except now I’m stressed because he’s stayed out. Of course, we’re trying to encourage him to stop being so nocturnal and get back to his previous, more human hours, so maybe it’s all right.

Matt was on the radio this morning. He periodically takes his football prowess to JOX radio station and he always does a mighty fine job. However, due to some unfortunate timing, I heard that Donna Summer song On the Radio yesterday and it’s been looping through my head all morning.

You remember a long time ago I watched High School Musical expecting it to be so bad it was good when it turned out to just be so bad it was really bad? Well, since then, my heart has changed. It’s because I, like millions of prepubescent twittering girls, have fallen under the magnetic spell of those blue eyes resting under the biggest eyebrows of all time, all occupying the face of one zac efron. Yes, I’m in love.

It’s curious, since one of the items I found to be most annoying about the original movie was his face, which I found to be oddly anime-ish. Blame the new-found love on hairspray. He was, undeniably, dreamy. Sigh. What have I become? I’m reverting to that Bop reading youth I once was.

Incidentally, I haven’t been able to watch the second HSM film (we don’t have Disney, sad!), but maybe it’s just as well. It would probably jostle me out of my reverie. Matt informed me that the third film, the one they’re planning to release in theaters, will be called “Haunted High School Musical.” That can only be terrible. I better wean myself off of this before it’s too late.

Remember how I told you that our little radio show was going to start podcasting? Well it has. I’m sorry to say, however, that, due to a slow week release-wise, this week’s program does require you to be a pretty big movie nerd to enjoy it. After we went through the box office stuff and matt and I derided The Invasion, the topic turned to Woody Allen. I really couldn’t contribute that much, since I haven’t seen many of his films. Anyways, give it a listen if you’re interested. I’ll try to keep y’all posted on each week’s podcasts. http://www.thecapstone.ua.edu/Podcast/Reelin/2007-08-26.mp3

Have a lovely day and enjoy this clip from the always wonderful Mighty Boosh.

2007-08-24T07:05:00.001-07:00

Biscuit

Submitted for your approval, consider the curious case of Francesca: a mid-twenties girl who previously worked in the respectable but thankless world of publishing. After almost two months of lying around (which she enjoyed more than most people would), she forsake (forsook?) the comfort of home to finally, finally go to work yesterday. At a chocolate shop.

You are entering the twilight zone.

No, you’re not. That’s just why I didn’t write yesterday. I had a sort of early morning and didn’t a lot myself enough time to write a blog. Sorry on that.

Of course, when I say I worked, I didn’t quite. The store opens next week and I just figured, since I’m not doing anything, I’d go in and help with the set up. I figured the help would be appreciated and it would be a good way to familiarize myself with the merchandise. Also, you may have noticed, otherwise I’m not doing anything all day. It was a good time, I’ll tell you that much. I was just created to be surrounded by chocolate. It’s a scientific fact.

My heart is currently in stop mode because matt alleges that after ed made a particularly big jump this morning, our downstairs neighbors banged on the ceiling. What are we to do? Edgar’s not even that much of a fat A, he just doesn’t land gracefully. It’s not a good thing.

Listen, I think you should know, I just rocked an excellent breakfast of Orange Cinnamon Rolls. I just whipped them up. By which I mean, I opened the can, it popped (and scared me, it always does), then iced those bad boys when they came out of the oven. But dang, they were good. I’m also enjoying (?) a too-strong cup of coffee. I put about four cups of cream in it, but it’s still pretty heartily dirt-like. Alright, not the world’s best. I have only myself to blame. I made it today.

Listen, do you people watch the program Ham on the Street on Food Network? You should. Matt and I tivo it (I have no idea when it actually airs), and it’s always one of our favorite breakfast viewing programs. This guy is very funny. And he reminds me of my buddy pat duffy who is one seriously delightful human. Anyways, if you ever see it on guide and you think, “ew. Ham? On the street? Grody to the max!” don’t think that. Think, “oh, Francesca likes this show. She has impeccable taste! I must watch it.” And you must.

Alright, so not a very riveting blog, but I am going to work again (!), so I need to get my stuff together for a minute before I leave. Have a good weekend.

I’m going to share this video with me, primarily because I was so overjoyed to receive it. My dad works here. He sent an email that just said, “now you know what I do at work all day” and the link. Love that guy!

2007-08-22T07:53:00.000-07:00

Except the time I said “I love you,” I didn’t mean a word I said

Edgar’s quest for world domination continues. Besides his unnerving habit of alighting atop our six-foot bookcase (dude, that cat has a four and a half-foot vertical), other things have been happening. There is his habit of not being annoying in the night. That’s suspect. Just the other day, while I was in the bathroom getting read for bed, he almost blinded me. He certainly attempted. I had removed and secured in its saline bath my left contact. I had just placed my right contact in the liquid when edgar decided to step into a partially open drawer, which he then fell out of, but not before jarring my arm, causing my right contact to fly out of the case and land upon the counter.

Something is definitely up.

I went walking again this morning. I smell like a foot and have salt deposits all over myself. I swear to bob, I always had reason to believe that I was an excessive sweater (that is, one who sweats, not a winter top). Now it’s a fact: I’m a freak of nature who sweats enough for 20 overweight middle-aged men.

Man, I had horrifying dreams last night. First, all these body builders kept using our apartment for a gym. They would just pull out a key, come in, and commence with the weight lifting and pull-ups. That was bad, people thinking that our home was a gym. But then, things got much, much worse.

My little brother, little sister, myself and parents were going to have thanksgiving in las vegas. Go with it, it was a dream. We were in this swank restaurant, awaiting out turkey (now that I think about this, it was probably inspired by a 5th season Christmas west wing matt and I watched a few days ago). Then, I’m not sure why, my dad ran outside the building (it was very vertical), tash and tim and I followed him and he started shouting “the end is near!” stuff. This went on for a few minutes when, in the clouds, there appeared angry eyes and dad was like, “see!” Then he started getting struck by lightening repeatedly (to be honest, this part had some cheesy, 80s effects look). Then these two people, who were actually demons, started attacking him. I told tasha and tim to run inside and I went to help my dad. I fought of one of the demons then stabbed the other one in the face multiple times with a pencil.

See. I told you it was scary.

After that, my mother and I helped dad inside, we had to lose some creepy woman who was following us (the hallways were narrow and windy, like in the basement of the music building at Birmingham-Southern). Then we were trying to find tash and tim and then I found them, but lost my parents and I found them and they were eating ice cream and….it was frustrating. And also scary.

All of that to say, I’ve learned my lesson: I should not eat a delicious warm delights mini right before bed.

A word about Warm Delights. Matt and I used to just share the regular sized bowl, but we stumbled upon the minis on our last shopping trip and since matt wanted skank-nasty raspberry and chocolate, we each got our own pack of two. He, the raspberry, myself the molten chocolate caramel (hey-o!). anyways, as I stood stirring the chocolate sludge yesterday evening, a few things struck me. One, the minis, which boast a mere 150 calories, make exactly the amount of cake that you would get if you had a small brownie and sliced a horizontal cut about 3/4th of the way down it. Pathetic. Also, I was struck by the similarity of what I was stirring up and the cake one might make with an easy bake oven. I realized that, while matt and I really think we’re getting a treat when we eat one of these (they’re warm! They’re chocolate!) they’re actually pretty junky.

So that’s all. Go see Hot Rod. This is so cute it’s almost sick.

2007-08-21T07:27:00.001-07:00

You’re a crook, captain hook

Hello. No I didn’t go walking today. Get off my back. I’m giving my body a chance to recover. Besides the blister that was, in fact, the entire length and breadth of my left pinky toe, I am also very sort in the butt/hips area. So I must allow my muscles to recover, ok? Because I’m pretty much a professional exerciser.

There is a disturbing sign I pass frequently on my way to town. (Hey, something had to take the place of that hated vet sign with all the terrible puns). As I drive past my neighborhood KFC, I am distracted by the flashing sign that reads “Liver Dinner 3.99.” Is it because I am a fan of the livers? No, it’s not that. In fact, at the very thought of such an abomination, bile rises in my throat. Rather, I find myself thinking that were I a fan of the livers, I don’t think that telling me yours were a cheap 3.99 would inspire me to purchase them for consumption. I think it might make me highly suspicious. Also, knowing that there are livers in the house makes me even more prone to never, ever, ever want to eat at KFC.

So the big news in life is that matt and I saw the flick Hot Rod last night. We had to go to a 9:35 showing. Which is entirely too late for me, but that was the only showing and we knew our time was running out to see this film.

Holy craps. Y’all, it was SO funny.

I suppose it requires a particular comic sensibility to enjoy. It’s one of those “so stupid, it’s smart” deals, but all I know is I laughed more than I have in a long time, so loud one time that I sort of made a scene. And I don’t laugh out loud very often. Basically, if you have any appreciation for Laser Cats or the short where the dog seduced Andy, you would like, nay love this movie. And this is probably the last week it will be in theaters, so you need to get on it. I promise, if you like andy Samberg digital shorts, I think you will really like this movie. Oh yeah, you know that little Nintendo thing I put up a few weeks ago? It’s from that same crew.

Matt’s keeping me up-to-date on the Kristen bell situation, about her alleged role on Lost. Turns out, she’s not going to be on Lost (she didn’t want to live in Hawaii) but that she will be on Heroes, which I lost track of and matt said it probably wasn’t worth trying to keep up with. Apparently, she’s also in talks to be the lead in Legally Blonde on broadway.

All of this info came from matt. I don’t mind that he’s in love with her since I think we’re all in agreement that she’s pretty awesome.

Matt sang today’s title to me as I was pouring us our (too watered-down, my fault) coffee and I thought, boy-o, that would make a great video for today. This was a dang fine show.

….and, as it turns out, I can’t find that video. So I’ll leave you with this and encourage you, again, to see this movie.

2007-08-20T08:02:00.000-07:00

List

You know you’re in for a treat of a day when bulleted item no. 9 on the to-do list reads “kitty litter.” Whoo.

Yeah, that’s right. I make a daily agenda everyday. I find it’s good to have a list to cross-off of when you are doing nothing with your life. It gives you a sense of accomplishment. So, around 2 today, probably, I will cross off “kitty litter” and I’ll be feeling good about it.

I went walking this morning for the first time in, approximately, 14 years. The thing about weather in the triple digits is that, even if you go out a-walking around, let’s say 8:30 am, there’s a fairly big chance that it will still be solidly in the late 80s. And you will sweat profusely.

Of course, the nice thing about it, I suppose is that I can blame the sweat on the weather and not on my hideous out-of-shapeness. I was interspersing my walk with a minute or two burst of speed walking. Oprah told me to.

I just started getting her magazine as a coke point trade in (I think I turned that in February). I tell you what: being most of the way through that rag, I can understand why people feel like tina fey’s character on 30 rock: when asked her religion, she just said, “oh, I just believe everything oprah says.” I’m telling you, they’re running a pretty powerful propaganda machine.

I’m going to go get some coffee. Wait for me.

Ah, sweet ambrosial nectar of the gods.

So let me tell you a little about this weekend. It was very, very exciting.

On Friday I didn’t do anything. I tried my hand at making stew. There was too much something in it. It wasn’t great. It was made from a composite of recipes and maybe that wasn’t very smart of me. I won’t lie, I’m not a huge stew fan, so maybe, subconsciously, I made it poorly so matt wouldn’t request it any more.

No. That’s ridiculous. I would never sabotage something that I had to eat myself. Anyways, there was a lot left.

Oh, we saw Superbad. I’m not going to lie: it’s mighty, mighty raunchy. I like Michael Cera, so I had to represent. It is really funny, but it’s definitely majorly raunchy and pulls most of its humor from the mind of 17 year old boys. Which, with few exceptions, happen to be very sex-addled places. But, definitely, the kid who says on the commercials “I AM mclovin” is a total rock star.

So Saturday was so so so exciting. I woke up. I hung around. I watched jack hanna (who’s a moron, but I like animals so I have to watch). I was then overcome with fatigue and slept for 2 ½ hours. That was ridiculous. Matt and I went to confession. Then we went to sonic and got delicious beverages. A storm blew up. We made a dinner of sides, featuring elbow noodles with butter, lemon juice, and parmesan, stuffed baked tomatoes, and zucchini casserole. It was delightful. We played wii (matt cheated), we went to bed.

My night was terrorized by a furry creature who decided that harassing me beginning at 4:30 was the best thing he could do. I gave up at 7. Matt and I went to church. Then we went to target. We went home. I ate some soup. Then we went and did our radio show.

Short note: the radio show that we do with ben Flanagan on the UA radio station (the capstone) is pretty much awesome. Such intelligent discourse you’ve never heard. We’re thinking about podcasting and if we do, gentle reader, I will demand that you subscribe. You don’t even have to listen. Just subscribe and make us look good. Thank you.

I was all hungry and weird so when we came home, I ate about half a loaf of sour dough bread. I would have eaten all of it, but that’s the good thing about living with someone else. Sometimes shame kicks in and keeps you from eating your weight in bread. We enjoyed a dinner of strip steaks (a luxury, they were on sale), baked potatoes, and broccoli.

So, what I’m trying to say is, it was a good weekend. How was yours?

Oh. My cat has a tick right above his eye. Suggestions on how to get it off? Thank you. I hope you weren’t eating breakfast.

This is long, but it made me giggle a lot.

2007-08-17T09:44:00.001-07:00

Pardon our progress

I’m sorry that I’m late on this blog. I was only going and meeting with my future employer. Oh yes. Mama’s secured herself some jobbage. At the chocolate shop. Oh yes.

But just in case you were thinking you were going to get some inside information about peterbrooke chocolate, you can just forget it. I have been sworn to secrecy, perhaps you’ll get the vaguest mention of a “tempering” here or a “dipping” there, but I assure you, the secrets of peterbrooke will reside in my heart, mind, and brain. And not in this blog. So, you slugworths, it’s no use. Promises of wealth will not get me to reveal the secrets of the everlasting gobstopper.

A disturbing trend has emerged in my sleeping habits. It is not unusual for me to hit the sack earlier than matt (because I’m an old lady) but apparently, when he joins me, I’ve taken to trying to talk to him. I assure you, I am sleeping soundly when this happens. For instance, I was thinking this morning of congratulating matt on not waking me at all, when he told me that I was trying to talk to him when he got into bed. Ruroh, relroy. No good can come from this. When I’m out, I’m out. I’m a little worried about what I might say. I think he said I was telling him we had to get something. hmm.

Good news on the cat front: edgaroobeedoobee has been going out in the evenings for hours. I think yesterday he went out at around 6 and didn’t come back until 10 or 11. This is promising because, after his jaunt about town, he came in, went promptly to sleep and didn’t start making racket until about 7:30 this morning. Excellent!

Matt and I watched an Even Stevens yesterday to break up all the cosby watching (there’s been a lot of that). It was the episode “Boy on a Rock,” an episode that, any E.S. fan will tell you, is exceptional even by their very high standard. At a particularly enjoyable moment, a little girl scout yelled, “The Mud Monster! He ruined my cake with his head!” Dig that crazy Even Stevens.

Oh speaking of Disney programming, the second High School Musical comes on tonight. I want to say that I don’t care….but I can’t do that. This blog has always been about honesty. Even though I was shocked and appalled by how stupid the first movie was on first watching, I have to say, my memory has betrayed me, and I’m strangely in awe of it now. It’s so terrible and cheesy, but…I’m not going to lie, I’m planning to tivo it and revisit it. And I will be watching the new one. It’s not a proud moment, but there it is.

Oh my gosh! Huge news! I’ll be finishing my thank you notes today. I know, I know! I just did a quick count up and I think that I will have written 300 thank you notes from engagement to now. I am not even kidding a little bit. You just think about that for a moment. That’s a freaking lot of thank yous. That’s a lot of stationary, that’s a lot of stamps, that’s a lot of hand cramps. I think I’ll surprise you by saying that I will be really, really glad to be on the other side of these notes.

I had a really nice incident with some customer service representatives today. I ordered some bowls from macy’s. Four chili bowls and four rimmed soup bowls. Fine. Good. They sent me two chili bowls, four rimmed soup bowls, and a set of mixing bowls. So I sent them a little note saying, “hi, I think you made a mistake. I wanted a scarlet chili bowl and not mixing bowls.” Well, la-dee-dah, they sent me back an email that says, “yeah, no, you ordered mixing bowls. It’s in our records.” The fatal flaw in this plan to lie to me is that, since I ordered online, I have an email confirmation that says, no, really, I ordered chili bowls.

Now, you have to understand, I am very nice to customer service representatives. I know that their job sucks. However, I have a piece of correspondence from them that says that they sent me the wrong thing. So I copied it and said, “I’m not lying to you: here is the email you sent me, stating my order.” I know it’s a six dollar chili bowl, but dang it, it’s my six dollar chili bowl. I will not be made a fool of, macys customer service.

Thank you. That was my angry indignant portion of the blog. And this is the video portion. Enjoy. Amanda D inspired this with her reminder of the excellent, deliciously quoteable line, “They may be drinkers, robin, but they’re still human beings.” Dang those pesky marching bands and baby ducks.

2007-08-16T07:27:00.001-07:00

No fun

The above refers to myself. I’m a heaping bowl of piping hot boring this morning. So I’ll just riff on the boring and I won’t be insulted if you don’t read it, ok? Have we got a deal.

Good.

I did a number of work related things yesterday and I also went to walmart (nightmare, always), so I felt justified hunkering down for a movie. I had tivoed Stir of Echoes. Why? The reasons were twofold. One, I knew the name. I didn’t know anything else about the movie, just that I heard the name. Two, and this is the real reason, they made a scifi original movie sequel. Starring Rob Lowe. Who, thank you seasons 1-4 of the West Wing, I adore. Oh sam, I knew thee well.

Anyways, stir of echoes was pretty scary stuff. And kinda gross. I mean, I watched it cut for tv and I still had to cover my eyes. That’s how I deal with expected scary: I cover my face with my hands. Now I still peek through my fingers, but for some reason it helps.

Oh, I also started watching later that evening the movie Dick. That’s right, the one with michelle Williams and Kirsten dunst. I had always heard it was funny. I’m only about three quarters of the way through, but I think I can confirm, it is funny. Look, I’m the first in line to say that teenage girls acting like teenage girls usually guarantees stupid, but these girls commit and it’s really amusing.

So that’s what I watched on the boob tube. As I mentioned, I went to walmart. Now, this walmart is unfortunately located very close to our home. It is also the worst shopping establishment of all time. It’s not the employees’ fault. It’s the clientele. Holy craps. Matt once told me that he has never been there when it didn’t take him 20 minutes to get through the line. I thought he was exaggerating.

He was not.

I heartily abhor walmart. Why, you might wonder, would two people need to divide a total, not the goods, from their walmart trip? And why would that need to take 10 minutes….each? and why would they try to say that my face wash was their own? Why, why, why?

Idiot place.

Oh, when I got back from walmart, at that exact moment, our ups guy arrived. I was walking behind him and, as he started up the stairs, I said, “I bet those are for me.” He confirmed my suspicions. He was holding a small envelope and a big box. Which he had on his shoulder. Which he bumped and then dropped over the stairs.

It had fiestaware in it. Whoops.

I felt very bad for him as a) it was a big box b) he had just dropped it from a height of about 5 feet in front of the person he was supposed to be delivering it to and c) it is freaking 104 degrees out everyday. So I offered him a soda.

I don’t think he understood me, so I ended up spouting this idiot sentence, “Do you want a soda, a diet dr. pepper?...they’re cold, they’ve been in the fridge.” Though somewhat bewildered, he agreed, and I was pleased to see that before I could even finish signing for my packages, he tore into that thing. I felt good about myself for having done something nice in my life.

And my fiestaware was fine. The order was wrong (macys.com, I’m looking at you), but nothing was broken. Another victory for packing peanuts!

This video is severely confusing.

2007-08-15T06:26:00.001-07:00

Now we’re cooking

It’s a Christmas miracle! Edgar was a complete angel last night. He didn’t make a peep until I got up at 7. Bless him!

I think he might have been feeling a little bad and ashamed about something that happened last night. It wasn’t his fault, but…it was gross. And it had to do with him. I won’t say anymore now, but I would have been embarrassed if I was him, too.

So I’m blessedly well rested and fresh as the morning dew.

Which is unfortunate because I don’t have much to discuss this morning and I think being cranky helps.

I didn’t send any thank you notes yesterday, but I did have one of those days where I felt very busy but felt like I was getting nothing accomplished. Which was weird. I haven’t had one of those days since I was gainfully employed. But then, most of this harried-ness was due to the fact that I suddenly acquired some freelance work. Which is awesome. But it’s all due like right now. So ah.

I went to Tuesday Morning yesterday. Now, I’ve never been to this store, which is weird, because it’s right up my alley. I’ve sort of been trained since my youth not to buy anything that hasn’t been marked down about 4 times and that you didn’t have to work for. Well, let me tell you, I don’t know if every Tuesday Morning is like this, but the one down here is dimly lit, has kinda a strange smell to it, and is just floor to ceiling stuff, barely organized. However, once I got past the abject scariness of the place (honestly, I sort of felt like I was in a horror movie), I quickly realized: this was my kind of place.

They have everything. And I’m fairly certain it’s the stuff they couldn’t sell at department stores. Which means a lot of it is a little unusual. Which works very well for me. So….that was a boring story.

What else happened? Matt and I watched three episodes of the cosby show. We couldn’t really help it, because one of them was a two-parter (where cousin pam’s boyfriend wants intimacy…yikes! A very special cosby show!) We stopped recording the tvland episodes because they would start and end at funny times, but for some reason all the other stations that show it, show the years where the beginning was the black and white ballroom opening. It’s when denise and Olivia are back to living at home, theo’s at school, Sondra and elvin have the twins and both Vanessa and Rudy are at pretty not funny stages. Thank heaven’s for Olivia.

That’s right, I’m talking about raven freaking simone, star of disney’s That’s So Raven.

Here’s the thing though: She wasn’t just cute, she was a kid who could deliver a line. I’m telling you. You go back and watch some of those episodes and you will find yourself very impressed to be watching a five year old with comedic timing.

Umm….i made leek soup for dinner last night. Mama loves the leek. It’s got a sweet, sort of mellow flavor. The soup I make is creamy, subtly cheesy….it’s a revelation. My only regret is that it doesn’t make more.

I told you. The well rested business just makes for a not very interesting blog.

But now this….this is interesting…

2007-08-14T07:00:00.001-07:00

It smells like eggs…which smell like poo

Well, if you’re looking for a blog with the thrills and chills of yesterday’s you can just forget it. You can just get to stepping and I won’t miss you.

Yes, I will! Come back. The blog will suck, but I think I’ve got a good movie up my sleeve.

SO! What happened yesterday? Well, I watched not just one, but two movies! And interviewed some people for a freelance story. But mostly watched movies! First, there was the delightful Outbreak, starring no less than dustin hoffman, renee russo, Kevin spacey, and a pre-sled dogs downslide, cuba gooding jr. Now, you may wonder how I came upon such a wonder of mid-nineties mediocrity.

Blame it on tivo.

Yes, I have found that by creating a “favorites” list of movies, just generally speaking, I can scan through all the movies coming on for like a week. So, say, When Harry Met Sally is coming on a 2 am? I can snag it. Or say batman was coming on at 6 am…it is mine. I saw outbreak, remembered reading the book in 6th grade (I was a weird kid) and decided to check it out. It was pretty dumb, but there was a dramatic standoff in the sky between a helicopter and a fighter jet thing….it was movie magic.

Then yesterday evening I watched The Fugitive. It was pretty good. Not high art, but I was engaged. AND, janitor from Scrubs had a little role, which they actually meta-ed in Scrubs, showing his little 10 second part. So that made me giggle. I did decide that, when Hollywood comes a-calling, I’m going to have to demand that I only do action flicks. Like, I think Harrison ford had about 5 lines. Otherwise, he just had to limp around looking determined. I could totally do that. Heck, I do it at 5:30 every morning when I have to go to the ladies room.

Oh, ha.

Listen, you guys need to find a little brother. Because mine, who just left for college on Saturday (boo hoo!), is the best boy ever. Don’t believe me? Well read his note he left me on my blogger blog and you will weep a little. I know I did.

Oh my goodness! I forgot to mention something remarkable that happened yesterday. I decided, like the little piggy I am, that the thing I needed post-haste after dinner was some popcorn. So I got out a pot, I poured in some oil—whoops! I put in too much!—oh, well, I’ll just put in more popcorn. I put the stove on five.

I waited.

A cacophony of pop met my ear a few minutes later. Sweet nectar of aural experiences. It popped, my anticipation grew.

I went to check up on things. Because I have a 6th sense entirely devoted to the production of popcorn, I got there precisely as the lid to the pan started to lift from the popcorn. But it was still popping up a storm. So I grabbed an absurdly large bowl (seriously, you could fit my cat and a squirrel in it) and poured off most of the popcorn. Since there were still kernels in the bottom and things were still popping, I replaced the pot on the heat.

Yeaaaah, about that. It made another entire pot of popcorn.

On the one hand, I was disgraced by my inability to judge how much popcorn I was making. On the other, I had this thrill. When I was little, we had this book about this little bear who through a party while his parents were out. All of his guests brought popcorn. They made all of it and it filled the whole house and basically everyone had to eat their way out before the parents came home.

I think it was supposed to be a cautionary tale. I always thought that bear was living the dream.

Alright my little peanut breaths, here’s a video for you to enjoy. I hope you do. This man proves, once again, he’s a genius and I think it’s very peculiar to see this girl laughing. She never struck me as the type.

2007-08-13T06:58:00.000-07:00

Petsdumb

Pissa Bello with the Bank of Africa contacted me this morning. Her email began “I know you’ll be surprised to be hearing from me.” Honestly, Pissa, I’m not. I’ve been waiting for this email and am, frankly, surprised it took you this long.

Edgar has been something of a—what’s the right word? I don’t want to overstate it…—renegade monster terror lately. He’s been doing this get up at 4:45 business and then continuing his calisthenics atop myself and matt until, basically, one of us breaks and wakes up. I know it’s bad because I, who usually have no trouble getting out of bed, have been lumbering like a zombie for about the first ten minutes after I get up. and I took a nap yesterday. You guys know that’s not how I roll.

Maybe I can blame that tiredness on a pair of idiot things I did this weekend. First, I got a library card. Not an idiot thing. It’s good to borrow books for free. I got out of my car (soaking with sweat since my piece of a car has decided that conditioning the air should be optional), walked up to the front desk and said, “yes! I would like a library card!” it’s a moment full of pride in a person’s life. I filled out the bisnatch then realized that I really couldn’t stay for more than a minute. So I located a book in the new non-fiction books then, because I’m a can-do kinda girl, walked up to the self-check out area. I grabbed the card on my key chain and scanned it. “Beep!” it beeped, but nothing happened. I tried again. Beep, again. But nothing. One more time I try. One more time I fail.

I turn on the spot and walk directly to the girl who helped me with my card. She had been watching me. I still had my card clutched in my hand. “I think that I must not be in the system yet.” I smile broadly. I can be charming with strangers. She looks at my hand and says, “yes. I think the problem is that that’s not a library card.” I look down. To my dismay, I find that the little card I have been trying to scan is not so much a library card as it is a petsmart card. Riiiiiight.

That was idiot thing one. Idiot thing two occurred on Saturday evening. I was brushing my teeth. As I am wont to do, I decided to grab a magazine to read while I brushed. Otherwise it’s just a waste of time, you know. So, as I brush, I shimmy over to the toilet, on the back of which are a bevy of magazines. Before I get there, however, I get distracted by a layer of dust I see on our tissue holder. Well, that will never do. So I blow a sharp stream of air to clean it off.

I was brushing my teeth.

Yeeeeah.

This is not in the idiot file but it was so delightful, I had to tell you. Saturday morning, I decided the best thing for me to do was to lay on the couch and watch a movie before I did anything else with my life. So I popped on the tivo and started a movie I had been saving: Batman. As in, the adam west one. Oh yes.

It’s a modern marvel. Whether they are meaning to be so ridiculously outlandish or not, it’s a joy to behold just how bad it is. Oh, incidentally, I always had a crush on robin and I remembered why when I was watching: he’s a stone cold, heartthrob fox. Also, he got to utter such lines as this one, a personal favorite of mine and matt’s: after a what appeared to be a crushing blow is delivered to batman and the boy wonder, we cut to them zooming off in a boat. Robin exposits, “Thank goodness for the nobility of the almost-human porpoise.” Because, you see, a porpoise threw itself in front of the bomb to save their lives.

Fabulous.

So that was my magical weekend. How was yours?

There are two people who are living in a small apartment who are really, really excited about this movie. It’s got jack black in it, so I have a hard time imagining we’ll be disappointed.

2007-08-10T07:02:00.001-07:00

Red turtle shell

I’d just like to report that yesterday’s cheese toast breakfast was amazing. You can’t get much better than sourdough and cheddar, you know what I’m saying?

Yeah, that guy gets it.

So let’s see, yesterday was noteworthy because I spoke to the chocolate shop owner. Turns out part of the big draw with me is that I’m willing to work game days. Which, duh, I totally am. I’m fairly certain, however, that she might think I’m a card-carrying idiot because I was really excited about chocolate when I was talking to her and…my excitement doesn’t quite come off professionally. More like a little girl in a dress who just found out that she’s a princess for real! anyways, I’m glad for it. Though, mildly sad at the prospect of not being unemployed any more. I finally find something I excel at and it’s gone, so fleeting.

Sigh.

Let’s see. I also wrote 9 thank you notes (I’ve only got one pack of eight left; I’m not joking with you: I’ve used about 20 boxes of thank you notes since the wedding and probably thirty five overall). Becca came down for a visit. We went to dinner at an excellent burger joint, Mugshots. Well, excellent in the sense the food was good. They put us in the corner and we (and only we) could see their health score which was strategically placed in a low-traffic area and that was because it was a mighty low number. Anyways, the food was tasty. Oh, also matt (and my, by default) friend rob joined us. Then we went to a bar at an awesome 7:30 at night (we’re old people, shut up), and it was crowded and smoky so we sat outside, where it was hot. Then we came back to the apartment, played wii sports and then Mario Kart and then someone (ROB) was being so loud that the downstairs neighbors banged on their ceiling. I was a little embarrassed, but a good time was had.

I also did laundry. So, it was a good day.

Let me tell you a story about the heat that is happening right now: it is forcing me to be a recluse. My lame-brain car is so ghetto that the air is taking, not joking, fifteen minute to start blowing cool air on me. Which, this being a pretty small town and me not really venturing anywhere, means that pretty much just at the time I’m pulling into a parking spot is just about when the air finally kicks on. Which ALSO means, pretty much any place I go, I walk in with back sweat, sweat rings, and an awesome sweat mustache. Which is to say, I haven’t really been going anywhere lately.

Annoying.

Can anyone recommend a good podcast? What’s happening right now is that i run out of new podcasts to listen to by Tuesday each week. I am trusting you to help me in this matter.

This comes courtesy of Rebecca, who alerted me to a number of these. This was probably my favorite.

2007-08-09T07:15:00.000-07:00

It’s time for some breakfas, no, k, it’s time for some cheese

I have a headache this morning. I woke up after a bizarre dream that included (but was not limited to) The Alabama Theater, riding a bus, my friend Helen, having to get dressed up, and the movie Hot Rod.

It was strange.

Last night was weird. The sack was hit by me at a reasonably 11:30-ish. The cat was out, so matt was going to hang out in the main room and wait for him. After I dozed for awhile, matt came in and said “the cat’s still not in.” in a shocking display of niceness (I don’t remember saying this, matt alerted me to it), I offered to be the one to hang out in the main room. Matt won out, and I fell into a deep slumber.

Then I was ripped out of a REM cycle by a cat fight outside of my window. If you have a cat, you know the sound. It’s not the general yowing they make when they want to get your attention, it’s a deeper, growlier, frenzieder sound. It’s not a good thing. I popped up. I was shocked to see the other side of the bed still made. It took me a minute to figure out that this was directly related to the firebrand who was now making a rucous outside of my window (and down a story). I teetered into the main room (I can’t walk very successfully when I’m tired). It was empty too. And the door was cracked open.

I was exceedingly baffled at this. Like my walking, my brain just can’t quite hack it when I first wake up. I was like, “Someone’s stolen matt!” and I was afraid. There was another cat skirmish sound and I pulled open the door and was shocked to see my husband there. Again, I can’t quite think when I’m tired. He had heard the catsplosion. We began clicking our tongues and whisper yelling “edgar!” he was making all kinds of noise and we finally located him over the railing. He saw us and came in. He appeared to be ok, but he was making a weird wheezing sound. That, coupled with the fact that I had to visit the loo, meant that by the time I got back in bed, I was pretty awake. It took me a bit to fall asleep. When I finally did (see above), I had a peculiar dream. Thus, headache. Voila.

Here’s a bit of mind-blowing news (for about two of you): Kristen Bell, better known to you and me as V. Mars, is possibly joining the cast of Lost. WHAT!!?! Worlds colliding! I love that actress and I hated, you’ll recall, when V. Mars was cancelled so this bit of news was like a Christmas gift to me. It would just be too much. My tv-addled brain will just explode if it happens.

Yesterday matt and I went to dinner at one of his coworker’s homes. TG, his name is, a phenomenal photographer with a lovely girlfriend and a cute kitten named Penelope. He and his girlfriend, whitney, are the ones who are working at the chocolate shop. I again aired my desire to work there. Later that evening, he was at our apartment doing some work on matt’s computer (he’s got an internet issue just at the mo). He somehow ended up on the phone with the chocolate shop owner.

Here’s the point: things are looking very promising for me working a little at the chocolate shop.

IT’S ALL I’VE EVER WANTED!!! I’m so very excited. My big selling point? That I have no problem working game days. I knew that holding firm to my hatred of football would pay off in the end.

Me. In a chocolate shop? It was all I could do not to do a Liesl-like “WHEEEEE!” in a gazebo.

Last night, I had the bizarre experience of getting something like 5 comments on myspace about various blogs from the last week pretty much all at the same time. I’m sorry if you commented last week and thought I was giving you the shaft. I wasn’t. I don’t understand what happened there, but I do appreciate the love. Particularly noteworthy was Jessica’s “Chocolate Rain” parody. It was magical.

Speaking of magical, mama’s going to prepare herself some kick A cheese toast for breakfast. So you’ll understand if I have to go….

Wow, shocking how many videos this little search revealed. But this ain’t bad. I’ll tell you that much. It’s things, but bad ain’t one of them.