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Showing posts from 2012

the risks of online shopping

Online shopping is great.  Because when the packages come it's like a little mini Christmas, just for me.  Every time I hear the thump of a package at my front door I get really excited to know what has shown up.  And I get to lock myself in my bedroom and open it while being perfectly justified ignoring the screaming children out in the hall. The other day I got a package with the sock monkey family inside (mom, dad, boy, and girl, complete in a box that looks like a car - yeah).  It was extra super exciting because I ordered it on ebay and you never really know when stuff will show up after you've used ebay.  And I can't remember the users whom I've ordered from, so when a package shows up and it's from some guy named Herbert from Michigan, and I'm thinking, "What is this?" and then I open it up and it's a sock monkey family... CHRISTMAS! Except that sometimes when the packages show up the delivery people ring my doorbell.  Which, normally,

tragedy of the lost phone

I lost my phone for awhile today.  This used to happen all the time.  And then I'd find it in the deep recesses of the couch or in the back of my closet or behind the toilet or something.  But that was back when my phone was just good for stupid stuff, like talking to people.  blech. But now I usually have my phone RIGHT THERE, because I'm one of those addicted-to-their-smart-phone people.  Sometimes I'll tell people that I lost it and that's why I couldn't answer their call, when really it's because I'm busy exploding chuzzles or browsing pinterest when they call and I don't want to be interrupted.  Or sometimes (ie. all the time) I just don't want to talk on the phone, so I lie and pretend it's lost. But when I lost my phone for real today, I was pretty scared.  And I had to go to the school and help in Monkey's kindergarten class WITHOUT it.  And then I had to go to the grocery store and buy Orville Redenbacher's new Farmhouse C

new neighbors

I mentioned that I moved (again) right?  We live in a duplex now.  The beauty of a duplex is that you can hear lots and lots of stuff that happens on the other side (especially if you have really super amazingly creaky floors, like we do).  And also, you share a yard. Granted, duplexes are better than apartments or townhomes or something where a whole bunch of people share the yard or you hear neighbors above, below, and on each side of you.  So yeah, duplexes aren't that bad. The other half of our duplex is rented by some guys.  I think there are three of them.  Except that I'm not really sure.  All I know is that one of them has a big bushy beard.  Because a bushy beard is something you don't forget.  But regular looking guys?  Yeah, I have no memory of what the rest of them look like. Currently our new guy neighbors are in the backyard with some of their friends.  Drinking beer and taking turns throwing a knife at a stump.   The windows are open so I can hear all t

stuff I found from college

We're moving to a new house.  Again.  Because that's what we do.  For the 10th time in 10.5 years of marriage.  IT'S LOTS OF FUN.  Except that it's totally not. However while we were packing the office tonight we found this old notebook of mine from college.  Most of it was filled with notes from my psychology class, but then I flipped to the back where I discovered some amazing gems of wisdom divined by myself and my hilarious roommates.  My husband does not appreciate these gems, so I will share them with you.  (Who I'm sure will see them for the genius that they are.) "Some people think that living in a socially obligated world brings on the destruction of segmented earth worms." "Draw 4 cards in Uno always make me cry." "I've never seen a purple cow, I never hope to see one.  But I can tell you anyhow, missed opportunities resemble bacon bits." "One adjective evening, you were verb-ing outside when an adjectiv

life makes me cranky

I am no longer planning my life.  You heard me.  I PLAN NOTHING from here on out.  No long term plans, no short term goals.  Heck, I have no idea if I'll even finish this sentence.  Because I am not planning ANYMORE. Also, do you want to know what I think is really stupid.  Not just regular really stupid either.  Really REALLLLY stupid.  "The Secret."  I mean, I figured it was lame.  But now I know for sure.  It's really really stupid. Also, does anyone have any experience with broken feet?  Or just one broken foot.  Not plural.  Because I think I broke one.  Because I was being stupid.  And I was trying to move a large piece of furniture over a toilet in a cramped bathroom.  And no, I'm not giving out details of that story because I already told you - I WAS BEING STUPID.  And so I dropped an armoire on my foot, and I'm pretty sure it broke.  Or was really close to broken.  And I kept it up and wrapped it and stuff for like 3 weeks, and it got better-ish. 

just another back to school post

I always have mixed feelings when my kids go back to school.  It's more peaceful for me when they're gone, but I kind of miss them.  Plus I don't get to sleep in - and that's what is really important. My kids are in fourth, second, and all day kindergarten this year.  And Number Four should be in preschool but I made an executive parenting decision to not let her go.  Because I want her to stay here.  With me.  So we can hang out. Number Four's special ed teachers want her to be in a 4-day a week class this year.  It's what we did in Boise with the boys, and it was super helpful and good for them.  But I'm still not letting her go.  Because I realized that it's kind of nice having just one kid around.  And she's lots of fun.  And we can go to the zoo, or play with her cousin, or hang out and put clips in each other's hair.  And she didn't really want to go anyway.  And I have lots more justifications when really I just didn't want her

the time that Netflix let me down

When I get sick I lay in bed and watch lots of Netflix.  Because that's what one is required to do when sick. This I know. A few weeks ago I got really sick.  (Because summer is a time when illness go around.  Oh wait.  no - just for me.)  So I had to live next to my humidifier and take lots of naps and let my kids destroy my house in between rounds of video game playing.  And, of course, I watched a lot of Netflix. I was in one of my scary movie phases so I tried out a few that were obviously made with a $15 budget. In one of the movies this guy has to stay in his apartment for 2 weeks without even stepping a foot out the door.  It only took him like a day and a half to go all psycho and start killing people and cooking his cat and stuff.   At that point of my illness I had been laying bed for a week and a half straight and hadn't even killed a single person. I decided that particular movie was just stupid. I also watched some movies with Vincent Price in them, becau

my rusty flow of life pipe is drowning me

Sometimes I feel like this: And then I have to draw it in my notebook instead of getting actual stuff done.  And then I have to blog about it, and then explain it for you.  (Instead of getting actual stuff done.) So that's a picture of me.  You can tell by the bad clothes and ponytails.  And I'm standing in a bricked up box.  Because in this picture, that's what it is. And then there's a pipe that goes through the box, and regular daily life flows through it.  It's like a stream of time and chores and work and kids and dinner and all that other stuff that makes up life.  But my pipe is rusty and doesn't hold life very well, so it constantly leaks. And then my box fills up with too much regular life. And instead of working on a drain, I just stand there in a daze. Sometimes I feel like my box is totally full of water and I'm doggy paddling near the top sucking in that last little bit of air with just my lips sticking out of the water.  But I'

for all my geek friends

Being a geek is fun.

childhood miseries

I'm listening to my children converse in the other room and I'm realizing that I totally forgot about the injustices of childhood.  You know, when the world is out to get you, and everyone hates you, and you're the unluckiest kid on the entire planet and possibly universe, otherwise why would your life be SO HARD?! Two Bits is teaching the younger two the finer points of voicing the despair and unfairness of things while they pick a billion plastic baggies off the floor that they decided to throw there and then try and convince me that our giant box of baggies exploded on it's very own. The Two Bits dramatic dialogue goes like this: "This is the worst summer vacation EVER.  We're like slaves!  We don't even have a vacation planned, and we can't even go to Disneyland even though we're doing ALL THESE chores!!   We never do anything fun.  Our days are just filled with chores and cleaning and relaxing then more chores, and then relaxing, then w

this is why friends don't like to come to our house

Opie has a friend over today.  This does not happen often.  Because we kind of scare people.  Even though I'm not even my usual scary self when other people's kids are here, just more, um, me-ish can't-be-helped scary. Which I guess is still kinda scary. And also my kids don't have friends over because they always get "SO BORED".  Because, all 50 billion of their toys don't ever sound like fun.  I mean, why would they?  It's not like people spent hard earned money to provide my children entertainment in plastic and blinking form or anything. So before Opie and his friend started on the "we're SO BORED"'s I took some sheets outside and built them a tent by hanging them from our tree.  Because I'm super clever like that.  And then I thought, "HA!  They'll be busy playing here for HOOOOOURS ." Except that they were bored by the tent in less time than it took me to set it up. So then I told them to play command

creepy moth

My husband is the worst moth killer ever. I'm very good at my part of the moth killing job.  I see the moth.  I jump and point.  I yell, "It's a moth!  Get some toilet paper.  Kill it!  KILL IT!  HURRY!" But then... Husband takes FOREVER getting toilet paper while I have to watch the moth and wait and wait and wait. So then, by the time Husband comes back, it has MOVED. I really hate it when bugs move.  It's creepy. When the moth killing is finally a go, Husband starts swinging his arms wildly.  Probably because the moth is flying at his face. I've learned to leave the room because he doesn't even care if he makes the moth go flying right at MY face.  It's rude.  And creepy. And then most of the time he can't find the moth after he's been flinging his arms around, because it's sort of impossible to watch a moth and swing at a moth at the same time.  Or so Husband tells me. So then I have to cower in my room and type things o

a REAL ghost story. for reals this time.

If you haven't noticed I have this thing about ghosts.  And am slightly and sort of ish obsessed, but not really, about it.  Well, guess what?!  I have a real ghost story to tell now.  A REAL ONE. For reals, people, REEEAL . The other night I got in bed while Husband headed to the basement to iron his fancy clothes (because he has to wear fancy clothes to work now).  I closed my bedroom door, got in bed, rolled to face the wall, and started to nod off. I wasn't really asleep yet though, and I left a lamp on for when Husband came back up.  Except that Husband takes a LOOOOOOONG time to iron.  Because he likes his fancy clothes to be perfection in starch. As I laid there, not quite sleeping yet, Heavy footsteps came from the kitchen, and then into the hall.  Then my bedroom door opened - I heard the doorknob turn, I heard it creak open (old houses have creaky doors as a rule).  And then the footsteps came into my room. I thought it was just Husband, that maybe he had fo

back to blogging again

So it's summer vacation.  yeeeeha.  My kids have spent their two first days of summer vacation "doing chores" which is what I told them to do.  Except that "doing chores" means "destroy the house" to the kids.  So, you know, good times. I want to start blogging regularly again because I miss having an outlet in which I can say whatever I want.  Outlets are super. I was actually going to start blogging regularly about a month ago.  And then all sorts of not cool happened and I just didn't feel like it.  But now it's a little less not cool, so yeah, we're good. One awesome thing about summer vacation is that I decided to have a tradition where I rewatch Buffy the Vampire Slayer seasons 1-7.  Which is what I'm doing while I type this blog post.  Because Buffy is neato and I still love Spike. And guess what else?  My 5 year old Monkey needs bifocals.  Yup.  BIFOCALS.  Which is the super bestest thing ever. Also, our car b

there was almost a murderer living in my house

It's always awesome to open the front door to a badge in the face. A real life federal inspector thing type dude just knocked on my door.  The first thing I saw was his badge.  Because it was already at face level just waiting for me to see it first.  And I got too nervous to actually remember which real life inspector-y agency whatever he was really from. At first I didn't let the guy come in because I feel so much safer conversing through our ratty screen door that can't even keep bugs out. But then he told me he was doing a background check on one of the guys who lived here before we moved in and he needed our landlord's phone number.  And so I had to call Husband to get the phone number, because information like that is never handy when armed federal agents are in your house.  (Do you think he had a concealed weapon?  I didn't even think about that UNTIL JUST NOW.) I had to call Husband twice, because he never answers when I call.  And we have this "

it's black!

Monkey and Number Four have been playing this really fun game with me lately.  It involves me being psychic. Which, you know, I'm totally not. We have this ipad coloring app where they pick a picture and color the entire thing black.  And they yell, "NO LOOKING!" and hide when they do it.  Then they come back and they say, "Guess what it is?!" And then I guess about 5 different things that are always wrong. They just giggle, because, ha ha it's so funny that mommy can't read our minds. And then I say, "Give me a hint." And they say, "It's black!" Uh, yeah? So then I guess about 5 more wrong things that it could be. And they giggle more - what a fun game! Then I say, "Ok, so what is it?" And they say, "You have to GUESS!" giggle. But I tell them I can't guess, so they have to color it in front of me so I can see what it is.  And then I have to act really excited and say stuff like, &q

CRAZY head

Once upon a time I went crazy.  (Not really, this is just a fantasy of mine.)  I think it might have been the kids that finally tipped me into loopyville, or it could have been my husband's fault, or maybe it was just a general lack in fiber that did it.  I'm not sure.  (Especially since this never actually happened.) In the height of my crazy I was out of control.  Charles Darwin might say that I lost millions of years of evolution in a matter of moments.  Carl Jung might say that I was drawing on the collective conscious of primitive man.  Jane Goodall might say that I was positively behaving ape-like.  And the neighbors might say that I was sitting on top of my roof wearing nothing but Hello Kitty underwear and a rain poncho flinging poop at passersby while swearing like a sailor.  (Maybe this can be a "choose your own adventure" type post, so you get to pick with theory you'd like to go with.) (In this fantasy) EMTs arrived on the scene, and dodge poop whi

reinvented cooking: an inspirational post about making do with cheese

I'm always reinventing the food I create.  Not because I am a master chef with all these great ideas.  More because my food never really tastes that good to begin with, so when eating leftovers, it's really not good at all. First I'll pull a container of food out of the fridge and the first thing I check is if it's swarming with mold.  Because sometimes I forget how old the leftovers really are, so it's a good thing that the mold reminds me that, in fact, we ate the original pot roast 2 months ago and not last sunday like I thought. If said container of food is not fuzzy and/or blue, I decide that it's as good a lunch as any.  But then I remember how not awesome it tasted, and how nuking things in a microwave always make them taste sort of icky anyway.  And then comes my lunch altering thought: "This would taste so much better with______________ in it." (insert condiment or food item in blank) And the resulting lunch, is sometimes, sort of, no

crap dust gunk crud

Remember when I shattered the glass screen on my iphone ?  It got fixed at this little kiosk in the mall, which seemed just fine.  But immediately after I got it back it started to trap little particles of crap behind the glass. And then time passed. And more time passed. Until my phone was hoarding so much dust and gunk behind it's glass that it was ultra disgusting.  And I was almost too embarrassed to show people my awesome Tardis phone skin. Except that I showed off my Tardis skin anyway, because I was so excited. I would say, "Check out my super cool phone skin!" And people would be like,"That's awesome!"  And I would be like, "Do you know what it is?" And people would be like, "Not really.  Is it from a book or movie or something?" And I would be like, "You and me - we're no longer friends." And then I would walk away.  Because, honestly, IT'S THE TARDIS.  (Someday I'm going to make my husba

the time I got to wear an orange vest and hardhat

 A few weeks ago, I got to go on a tour of the City Creek Shopping Center in downtown Salt Lake City.  It won't be done until the end of March, but it's going to be pretty impressive. The stores take up two full blocks with a skybridge and flagship stores for Macy's and Nordstroms.  Which might impress some of you in great amounts.  I hardly ever go shopping, so I can't muster the proper enthusiasm.  I am, however, extremely excited for the Disney Store to be there. And, being married to an architect, I always have to look how things are designed and I've gotta say, the City Creek Shopping Center is pretty awesome.  They have retractable roofs!  Just as cool as a convertible sports car.  Except, you know, with a building.  (And therefore way more impressive.) There's a little creek running through the whole shopping center, with real live trout in them.  So if you've spent all your money and can't afford lunch at the foodcourt, NO PROBLEM, jus

the humiliation....

So I've been thinking. It's time for me to stop being so fat and ugly. But every time I look in the mirror and tell myself to knock it off, nothing happens. I don't get it. It's like my body is just waiting for me to exercise or put on makeup or something. (Like that's ever going to happen.)  I did something really embarrassing the other day. Again. Sometimes it seems like my like if just one humiliating moment after another. Husband and I went to see a movie. At the cheap theater. Because that's where we always go. And afterwards I had to my make obligatory "I drank a whole diet coke during that movie" potty stop. The bathrooms at the cheap theater were designed solely to make my eyes wig out. They're completely covered in alternating black and white tiles. So pretty much when I walk into the room my eyes and my brain start arguing, and I'm left feeling disoriented and a little blind-ish. So, the other night, when I rushed int

they drugged me and took advantage of my teeth

When I arrived at the dentist today I was a little worried that after taking the loopy pills I was still extremely coherent.  So they gave me something stronger and BOY HOWDY DID IT WORK. I remember laying back on the dentist chair and picking out something to watch on the tv in the ceiling - My Big Fat Greek Wedding. And I remember watching the scene where they discuss sending her to Greece to find a husband, because they were making a mold of my teeth at the same time. And then I remember waking up in my own bed in different clothes at 10:00 PM when my husband kept yelling "Rise and shine, sleeping beauty!" So basically, I can't recall ANYTHING about most of my day.  But apparently I was interacting with with everyone like crazy.  I know this because my husband was kind enough to record some of these interactions on his phone.  And I figure I might as well post them online now while I'm still a little fuzzy and thinking their funny, because by tomorrow morni

bow to my teeth

Tomorrow my teeth become royalty.  Because I'm getting two crowns and six cavities taken care of at the dentist. Let me tell you how excited I am that I have reached the age of needing crowns. SO EXTREMELY NOT EXCITED. Except that when we were dentist shopping I deliberately chose an office that provides sedation.  I could be completely knocked out if I feel like it.  Sadly, insurance won't cover wussy sedation needs, and you know how expensive anesthesiologists are.  (If you really don't know how expensive they are I kind of hate you a little bit.  We've had way too many surgeries in this house.) The good news is that there's a second option at this dentist's office - LOOPY PILLS.  And it's actually affordable.  So basically, I take these pills an hour before my appointment and they make me completely incoherent and tired and spacey and LOOPY.  And then when they're doing all the nasty mean dental work I can just think about baby kang

amore

So yesterday was Valentine's Day.  What a lame holiday.  Think about how many roses had to die just so people could be all mushy and stupid.  LAME. Except that I was really fighting the urge to not work during the day.  Because I had lots of work to do, but technically it was a "holiday", but not really, so does that mean I can take time off?  I wasn't sure.  But in the end my laziness won out and I walked away from my computer. Then I did what any sane person does on such a tremendous day of love:  I downloaded a horror novel onto my ipad kindle app and started reading. I did take a short break from the gore to make my husband some cookies and do the dishes.  Because that was my gift to him.  Which is a pretty cheap gift, but at least I didn't kill any flowers for it or anything. And Husband was kind of late getting home because I told him that he better come bearing chocolate.  But not just any chocolate, GOOOOOD chocolate.  So he had to track down an a

I am a talented weirdo who uses googlemaps.

Tonight I was doing my most obnoxious British accent while helping the kids get ready for bed. It was pretty excellent because I was really drawing out the syllables and putting in all sorts of annoying inflections. And, of course, I was doing it at the best possible pitch and decibel level to make the average adult male's ears bleed. Husband LOVED it. And then when we were saying family prayers all the kids insisted sitting on me, leaving poor old daddy sitting all by himself. So after we all said amen I had to let husband know that the kids love me more than him because of my amazing talents - and I said it in my obnoxious British accent. It's moments like those that I hope our baby monitor is being picked up by one of the neighbors, who then realize how immensely hilarious I am, and tell all the other neighbors, who then decide to throw me a party, where they present me with one of those giant checks for 5 billion dollars. But even without the cash, it's worth it

zombiepocolypse song

Have you heard this song? First of all, I have to say that the video is GROSSSSSSSS. Body hair - eeeew. EEEEEEEEEEEW. But what I really want to say about it is that I cannot get it out of my head.  Ever.  It's just stuck in there on constant repeat like that song from Lambchops: "this is the song that never ends, it just goes on and on my friend.....". Part of the not getting out of my head thing is due to the fact that Husband is seriously obsessing over it.  It's the only song he's ever downloaded from itunes to his phone.  And he plays it over and over and over. I've known my husband for almost 11 years, and do you want to know how many times he has obsessed over a song? NEVER.   ever. So I have this theory that the song actually contains subliminal messages.  And my theory says that the messages are actually two tiers deep.  (I've put a lot of scientific brain thought into this - since I'm so super science-y and stuff.)  The fir

a house? what? maybe?

I keep getting emails from realtors for some reason.  But Husband and I haven't really discussed the idea of buying a house for months.  Mostly because the houses here are all tiny, ancient, and expensive, so why bother?  Except a couple nights ago, instead of sending another realty email in the trash, I OPENED IT. And then I saw a bunch of tiny, ancient, and expensive houses. But then I kept looking.  I did one of those searches where you put in only the areas that you're considering and I accidentally put in the wrong area without realizing it.  And then... THEN.... I FOUND   i t . "It" being a really inexpensive house with the right amount of space and yard and garage and potential.  And even though it's not in the area that Husband likes, it's not really that far away at all.  As in, it will take him 15 minutes to drive to work instead of 7. So I got all crazy obsessed with it and checked everything out about the house and the neighborhood o

late at night

My brain has decided that it will only sleep between the hours of 4AM and noon.  And it doesn't matter how much my tired body complains, or how early I am required to get out of bed in the morning, my brain simply refuses to let sleep happen.  I think I've stayed up late working one too many nights and now my brain is just hardwired for the no sleeping thing.  Plus, Husband's snoring has been reeeeeally bad lately.  You know how some people call snoring "sawing logs"?  He's singlehandedly taking down a giant Redwood forest.  And how am I supposed to sleep in the same bed as a huge mutant chainsaw?  Especially when he's facing my side of the bed.  Because then, not only is he loud, but he also BREATHES on me.  I really can't handle it when people breathe on me. The other night I was super exhausted but it was only midnight, so the plan was to read until I got tired.  And I had a free self-published chick lit novel all cued up on my ipad, so that

bathroom mirrors

You know how in scary movies there's always that bathroom scene where someone is getting ready for bed, and they open their vanity mirror to grab their toothbrush or antipsychotic medication or whatever, and then when they swing the vanity mirror closed there's a ghost or an axe murderer or a giant insect behind them?  I can't even tell you how many times I think about that on a daily basis.  It's because my bathroom mirror looks like this: Except we made our landlord replace the mirror with something less GRUNGING SINCE IN 1930.  So for two weeks it actually looked like this: Which temporarily helped me with my seeing-a-ghost/axe murderer/giant insect-behind-me-every-time-I-close-the-mirror phobia.  However it was a humongous pain in the butt every time we wanted to actually see our reflections. So anyways, I'm kind of tired of being freaked out every time I need to open and close that thing.  Except the lack in storage space in that bathroom is way mo

where to begin...

So much has happened since I last blogged that I feel like I should back track and write 50 posts about it or something.  Except that I don't really want to.  And you probably don't want to hear most of it anyway, so I'll just give you bullet points of the biggish stuff: • I worked a lot in November/December.  And that's all I'm saying about that boring subject. • Two Bits was in a Christmas ballet, and she was pretty amazing.  And gorgeous, as usual, see: Except this picture was taken during the dress rehearsal when she put on her own lipstick.  IT WAS ALL OVER THE PLACE.  Eight year olds and red lipstick - it's just funny. • I got a kidney stone.  Another one.  And I went to the dr this time so I could get drugs.  And they made me pee in a cup.  And if you're my facebook friend, you'll probably remember that I mentioned the color of my pee.  So, yeah, that was exciting. • I celebrated my 10 year anniversary.  And we actually did somethi