because I really can't get enough of myself

Have you ever had deja vu, where in the middle of it you remember that in midst of the deja vu you were thinking, "I'm having deja vu" so then during the actual moment of actual deja vu you think, "I'm having deja vu about having deja vu"? IT'S TOTALLY CONFUSING. In other news, I ate Thanksgiving dinner last week.  I know - ORIGINAL. But then after dinner my sister came out of my mom's bathroom and was like, "Ummm, your toilet is tipping....like sideways."  And then everyone discovered that the toilet was in fact attempting to fall through the floor. So basically our Thanksgiving day turned into a Thanksgiving weekend in which Husband and my stepdad got to rip out a rotting bathroom floor and build a new one.  And my kids got to annoy my mom with their constant whining, "I'm bored.  I'm hungry.  Do you have any other toys?" all while destroying the rest of her house with their pent up energy. Also, we got to see ...

Dear Veronica,  I don't know if you actually read my blog because we're those kind of friends who actually don't read each other's blogs, but in case you're reading this - this one's for you. Once upon a time I was a senior in high school.  If you'd like to get a mental picture of me being a senior in high school just remember: it was the era of ultra baggy jeans.  And also my hair was really curly back then.  And also I hardly ever got zits (which makes no sense because I get them all the time now). Alright, moving on. For Thanksgiving that year my family went to my aunt's cabin in California.  We played a lot of Phase 10, which I hated, because I always lose when playing Phase 10.  But I guess that's ok, because while I was there I received the coolest musical instrument EVER: an accordian. My uncle lent me his old accordion (I say "lent" but really I've never returned it) because he knew that I was in an AP music class and als...

I was making myself a salad for lunch today, and all we had was that gross bag salad with the little carrot slivers in them.  So then I was scrounging around in our fridge looking for ANYTHING that would make it taste better.  (Because bag salad with little carrot slivers is ultra grody.)  But we didn't have anything to add to it except for an almost rotten tomato and some generic croutons. It was not a good salad. So then I had to just pretend that I was eating this: "This" being one of the amazing and tantalizingly yummiscious things I ate at La Jolla Groves the other day.  Do you so those white things?  Under the green leaves?  On top of the tomatoes?  THAT'S CHEESE.  And it was super yum.  I like cheese. And then I ate even more cheese when I had some of this: And then I ate lots and lots more really good food.  And guess what?  It was all HEALTHY.  Seriously.  I didn't even feel guilty as I was stuff...

Does it seem like Christmas is coming really really fast this year?  (As apposed to previous years where it only came really fast, and not really really fast?)  Usually by this time of year I've cemented and possibly purchased the toys Santa will leave under our tree, but this year has been slightly stumping. Which is one of the reasons why I really liked spending time at Blickenstaff's last saturday.  Because Blickenstaff's is toy heaven.  And I turn into a great big kid when confronted with toy heaven.  Because toys are really fun. If you don't already know, Blickenstaff's is a Utah toy store that has cool vintage toys and candy and modern toys and did I mention candy?  (THEY HAVE A WALL OF CANDY.)  And the staff there will tell you all about the toys and then they'll let you touch everything and even play with the toys, if you want to.  And it's really hard to fight the urge to play when the place looks like this: So basically, I got...

Once upon a time, or more specifically, tonight, I pulled out a small portable heater for the children's room.  Because it's in the basement and basements get cold. And I said, "Children, don't touch this heater, and don't get near this heater, and don't put your toys or papers or anything by this heater." But when the children hear "don't touch this" they automatically think, "sweet, I'm going to go touch that".  So I had to instill the proper amount of fear in them so that the heater wouldn't be played with (which is called "good parenting" in some cultures, possibly). And I said, "If you touch this heater, or put things in it or near it, it will start a fire and burn down our house .  Or you will get burned and it will hurt.  A lot. " Except that Opie took my much too seriously.  Which tends to happen.  Frequently.  And Opie is very very talented in the way of freaking out.  Like, the other day...

I just sat my husband down, and looked at him as seriously as possible, and said, "I want lots of money.  So you need to figure out how to supply me with cash, RIGHT NOW." AND HE LAUGHED. Except that I wasn't even joking.  At all. I should have married a brain surgeon.  They make lots of money. Wait.  Scratch that.  Brain surgeons have to go through lots of expensive medical school, and they also have to, like, work.  And stuff. I should have married someone independently wealthy that inherited his billions of dollars from the death of an obscure relative. If only I had a time machine. Or access to an alternate realty. Or just lots of money of my own. IN OTHER NEWS.... Last spring, when we first got our ipad, my kids kept secretly recording videos of themselves.  And while I think multiple movie clips of sustained farting noises are as hilarious as the next fully grown adult female (which basically means they're not really that fu...

I never told you guys something awesome that I did.  Well, sort of awesome.....ish. It's no secret that my fear of psycho-stalker-rapist-killers hiding behind a shower curtain runs deep in my veins.  I don't like my shower curtain to be closed EVER.  (Unless someone is coming over and I haven't cleaned my tub and I don't want them to see my mildew or whatever, and then I'll pull it closed to hide the tub, and then I'll open it back up the second they're gone, and while someone is over and it's closed and I have to use the bathroom I absolutely have to check behind the shower curtain before using the toilet, and in fact, I will check behind someone else's shower curtain before I use the bathroom if I'm at their house and their shower curtain is closed.) Husband thinks this is lunacy. Except that it's NOT.  I'm sure psycho-stalker-rapist-killers hide behind shower curtains ALL THE TIME. So, to prove my point on how scary it would be...

I can tell that Monkey is my son. He looks mucho a lot-o like his dad.  Except for his ears, we're not really sure where they came from,or his lack in booty.  Because if it's one thing we do well here, it's growing big booties.  All of us except for Monkey.  He's practically booty-less.  So his pants fall down constantly, and he doesn't care so much to pull them back up. BUT THAT'S NOT THE POINT. I know that Monkey is my son because the other day I wanted him to run downstairs and get something.  Downstairs is the kids' room, and they have a big tv down there that's not really hooked up to anything, so they only frequently watch movies on it.  But it's there, nonetheless. And when I said, "Yo Monkey, go downstairs and get that thing."   Monkey said, "NOOOOOOOO!" So then I said, "Why not?  Just run.  Go.  Do it now." And he said, "I don't want to.  It's scary." And I said, "Why is i...