because I really can't get enough of myself

In a moment of indulgence I watched the latest Ghost Hunters episode on Hulu while I ate lunch today. I love Ghost Hunters.  (Except for the team changes on GHI - to that I say "BOOOO" and also "BRING BACK ROBB!!") I'm convinced there are ghosts living in our very house.  (Well, ok, not LIVING, obviously.  Since ghosts are dead people.  But you know what I mean.) You know when you see something move out of the corner of your eye, but when you look nothing is there?  I do that all. of. the. time. At least 10 times an hour. Of course, I'm not convinced that every time I do this I'm "seeing" a ghost.  I have totally screwed up eyeballs.  I know this.  Especially when it comes to things like peripheral vision and shadows and stuff. So probably there are no ghost living in our house. But I'm still going to check for them. Because I'd like to think we have a house that all friendly, and potentially helpful (like the kind that

It's no secret that I have computer issues.  Seriously. If the electronics in this house were any older, the owner manuals would be written on stone tablets.  Or possibly cave walls. So I want to win this: (Hi Crissy, I stole your picture.  But it was SOOOOOOOO PRETTY that I had to.) I've never actually read Crissy's blog before, which pretty much makes me a giveaway heathen, but I know that she's gotta be awesome to get an entire computer to review AND an extra one to give to a random stranger. I'm just really hoping I'm that random stranger. Required statement below: Dear Crissy is giving away an HP TouchSmart 310

Sometimes I get a real craving to ride a unicorn. This might surprise a lot of you who know me.  I really don't seem like the unicorn type of girl.  And honestly, I'm not.  Unicorns, butterflies, holding my pinky out during a tea party - not really my thing.  I'm more of a push-somebody-down-and-then-laugh-at-them kind of person. It's just that you know that you've really made it when the government grants you special access to their top secret unicorn reserve. Someday I'll be walking through those bunker doors, selecting the unruliest unicorn, and saddling up.  You just wait. Oh yeah, and don't worry, I'll take pictures.  I don't even care that it says "no flash photography" in the fine print on my special access government waiver.

The robins were ushered home on a warm nothernly breeze.  "Spring is coming!" they chirped gaily from the bare branches in the yard. Throwing on a flowered parka, I lept from the house in a flutter of excitement.  I danced in the streets and I frolicked through meadows, singing, "Tra la laaaaaa,"  catching the sweet, red-chested birds on my outstretched fingertips.  Our melody was harmonious to even the harshest of creatures, and soon our exuberant dance was joined by floppy eared bunnies and grizzly bears just awakened from hibernation.  The  foxes were doing the tango and the walruses tap-dancing.  All of us giving glorious thanks to Mother Nature for the introduction of warmer weather. But in our excitement we had forgotten an important detail. We had forgotten that Mother Nature has stopped taking her pills. And Mother Nature, is quite obviously off her rocker.  Out of her head.  Completely MAD. Yesterday morning we frolicked. At noon it snowed, bu

You know, kids should really come with a vomit early warning system.  Maybe something like a blaring siren and then a 30 second electronic countdown.  And you should be able to choose the voice of the countdown too.  Like if you want the standard female robot voice, great.  Or you could upgrade to the premium vomit early warning system that comes with the option of attractive English male accent or Looney Tunes "dropping anvil" sound effects.  I would totally pay for the upgrade - but I'd even be happy with the standard warning system - IF ONLY THEY HAD ONE. So, the other day, I was making my kids clean their rooms.  Which actually happens a lot here, even though my kids' reactions would say otherwise.  They always act like this whole room cleaning thing is a new concept and that I'm a humongous jerk to make them do it.  Or they pull the, "you want us to clean it AGAIN?!!" and I say, "well, did it get dirty AGAIN?"  and they're like, &quo

  For those of you waiting with baited breath......is that phrase right?  Baited?  Bated?  Slated?  It at least rhymes with "baited" right?  Grated?  Slupated?  Mortated?  Loollipoolapalated?  Who cares what the phrase is: THE LATEST BARREL IS OUT!!! It would have been online earlier today, except that the online magazine software we use has major issues with bold fonts.  I don't know why.  It just hates boldness.  So changes had to be made and still there's residual font issue.  STUPID ONLINE SOFTWARE GET OVER YOUR BOLD-A-PHOBIA.   And thank you to everyone who suggestion potty talk stories.  I have to admit that Heather's suggestion was my favorite.  But it was long-ish, and I couldn't fit it onto one page.  So I went with one from That Girl.  (It's a good one too.) My kids have been banished to their rooms for about an hour now, and the screaming still hasn't subsided, so possibly I should act all mommy-ish now and stop ignoring them.  Maybe.