I remember when we visited Nantucket Island and Brian told Howie this entire limerick. Howie was in frickin' stitches about it, giggling for the longest time. And since I can't come up with a single G- or PG-13 rated topic to blog on, I've gotten B to say it nice and slow for me, so I can post it up here.
We went to a circus today.
I like coming up with word associations for random things. It's a fun, mental challenge for me, and I dig that it tests my creativity. A couple examples: "dreadlocks look dreadful" (that one I came up with just for Mom), and "it's a Challenge to remember which butter I prefer," created because I came home one day with Land O' Lakes. The other day, I was tasked to find one to remind me that the mega-sized toilet paper rolls from Charmin will not fit in the standard holders for extra toilet paper in our bathrooms. (Jumbo-sized, though, fits just fine.) How many times have I bought the mega sized? I think only once before this. Clearly, I did not remember that. And because of that lapse, I've been watching the rolls for when they end, and installing the mega rolls for use before we're stuck in a situation where you have to use the spare rolls in the immediate area. Neurotic? Psycho? Ridiculous? Perhaps, but tonight, I've put out the last of my mega rolls. And I've come up with the word association to keep me from making that mistake again. It's really a no-brainer: "No-mega." "No mega rolls" said to sound more like "omega" with an "n" at the front. Not the most clever I've ever come up with, but I think it might win in a contest as the most obvious.
It's late; we watched The Bucket List tonight (very good!); and Sydney and I had a lovely dinner with Lisa and Katy. All in all, it was a fantastic Thursday.
A couple things:
~ I wonder if I'll ever win one of those $5,000 gift cards from Target that the store gives away in a sweepstakes whenever you fill out one of their service surveys. In fact, right now, I declare shenanigans that they give it to anyone. Nope, I don't think they do it. It's just a tease, really, to see if we'll keep filling the damn things out. I also think that they connect the purchase information, and personal shopping information, with the survey invitation. I have no evidence to support such a claim; I'm just saying it. Target totally knows how often I shop there, so knows how much money they'll lose if they give me the gift card, and so won't do it.
Do you see that guy right there? Right over there to the left of what you're reading right now? That, my friends, is George Michael, performing the shit out of an awesome concert last night. It's been a while since I've been knocked over by a performer, but last night's event certainly qualifies as a show that did that. Seriously, his voice sounded perfect; the song selection was very well done (except for the second half, before the encores, because it was all the new, dance-y tunes that I didn't know); he looked fantastic; and he even seemed pleased to be performing for us. And that last makes any concert worth the money, doesn't it? Katy and I had a great time! I simply love, love, love hanging out with her! We had a good dinner, drank a few drinks, and got somewhat lost walking from Arizona Center to US Airways Center (yay, pedicab!). And while I knew that the people-watching would be the best, I was truly a bit unprepared for some of the fantastic people we saw walking around that venue. Every single demographic category was represented, as well as gnomes!
Right now, as I sit here, my legs are a bit sore from all the dancing, my throat's aching from all the singing, my ears are lightly ringing from the woman behind us that screamed, "I love you," as well as other blood-curdling phrases all night, and, if I had the chance, I would go again tonight in a frickin' heartbeat.
Okay, so it's been a while since I've written anything. Yeah, yeah, yeah, that happens.
Random giggle: It's so hot here recently (excessive heat warnings over the last couple, and next few, days), that my fun, 4 p.m. newscast has taken it into their heads that what we all need is a reason to laugh at this ridiculous weather. Today, they invited people in the area to e-mail their best and favorite "Arizona heat" jokes into the station, where producers would read and select the best to be broadcast on the show. This afternoon's jokes were too stupid to remember, but I look forward to the next few days, or until the segment reaches its end. I think this is a great idea to encourage viewer participation, but also to do exactly what they aim to do: give us a reason to laugh at how f*cking hot it is here.
There are so many wives who might feel guilty about staying home all day and not having a lovely, gourmet meal, if not waiting for, planned for, their husbands when they come home. I am not one of those wives. In fact, I rarely have anything planned for when Brian gets home except a stop on the sofa and a few minutes of rest. But tonight, I am feeling proud of my wifery. I asked him what he wanted for dinner, and I cooked it for him.
The bridge of my nose is more than a little sore tonight. I wish I could say it was because I kicked someone's ass in a bar fight, but that's so far from the case, it's crazy. No, this afternoon, I got clocked in the nose by a little plastic zebra toy propelled by the blunt force of a 19-month-old toddler who doesn't know her own arm strength yet. And she smacked me with it really hard, too. Unfortunately, there is no bruising or anything (yet); if there was, you know I'd take a picture of it for you all. There is still tomorrow though, so if it shows up, I'll snap a pic and post it. But as it is right now, every time I accidentally rub against my nose, or even breathing through it, it aches and throbs a bit. You know how I love ridiculous injuries -- the foot bruise from the soap and the butt bruise from the stairs come to mind; and I can tell you that this one definitely gets listed among those.
ITEM!: Oh my gosh, have you seen this picture? It's of one of the tornadoes that touched down in the middle some time last week. This person had the absolute nuts to stand right where she did, and snap this incredible photograph, and still get away with her life and the camera. Amazing. It really looks like something straight out of Twister, or some other natural disaster film. I'm so impressed with this. I love the beauty of it, you know? The swirling clouds, the ultimate danger of it. Very impressive.
I promised myself I wouldn't fall for it: all the pretty words, the snappy sequences and the fancy editing, but I guess I wasn't as strong as I thought. Don't judge me too harshly, but I think I want to see The Incredible Hulk. I was so disappointed and hurt by the last Hulk movie. I swore that, when I heard about a new one being made, I would not, not, not see it. This new film was just a blatant robbery of my movie-going money, and I would not fall prey to it, I said to myself.
I'm fascinated recently by high school marriages gone sour, and how that affects the participants in every high school reunion for the rest of their lives. Really, I look forward to my high school reunions, and seeing people I haven't seen in years. Could you feature knowing that if you went to your reunion, more than likely, you would run into your ex in a hallway? And what if you both had a lot of the same friends? I'm intrigued. I know that there were a few relationships in my high school that resulted in marriage. I also know that a couple of those have resulted in divorce. And what if the divorce was a particularly nasty one? Do these people now avoid anything to do with their high school? I'm just intrigued by the feeling of dread that may or may not fall upon someone when they know that their ex will probably be at the next reunion. I'm looking forward to our next reunion (Lisa, I'm going to be your third wheel again! It was too much fun last time!). I'd be bummed to be not excited about it. I guess I'll just be happy that I don't have anyone to make me uncomfortable about being there.
First of all, just look at what they've done to our beloved Strawberry Shortcake. Oh yes, the Shortcake has been updated for Sydney's generation, and it's bothersome. According to the marketing information, this Strawberry Shortcake will spend more time on her cell phone and chilling with friends than she will petting and playing with her cat, Custard. Oh yeah, and the company has filtered through her friends too, cutting them down to only those with real fruity names. I'm thinking Blueberry Muffin may have made the cut, and did Apricot, Apple Dumpling, Lemon Meringue and Orange Blossom. Actually, as I just verified her friends' names online, I came across the American Greetings page on Strawberry, and ... well ... the last incarnation of the gang is cute enough, why change it again? (Here's the link: Shortcake.) Argh! Why must everything change? Thank goodness I've still got all my Strawberry Shortcake dolls from all those years ago. Not that Sydney will want to play with them (she'll want the cool, new ones with cell phones and iPods), but at least I've got them.
No matter how noble my intentions, I'm never, ever done with my computer by 10 p.m. You know, I sat down this evening at 9:25 p.m., and said to myself, "Okay, check your e-mail, blog about something, shut the computer by 10." And yet here I sit, at 10:01 p.m., just starting to compose tonight's blog post. Grr. Why do I get so caught up in the ridiculous stuff online?
Am I the first person to think that maybe, just maybe, Will Ferrell is getting a bit overexposed? I've got to tell you, we watched Semi-Pro tonight, and it was pretty much unwatchable. In fact, Brian hid my magazines and catalogs so that I would be forced to watch the movie without purposefully distracting myself from its ridiculousness. And that really happened. From the very beginning, with the "Love Me Sexy," singing, to the end, and all the afro and idiocy in between, I was in mental anguish. As to that, what's even worse is that we actually bought this awful movie, so confident were we in its inevitable humor and clever brilliance. How disappointed were we? Very.
While I would have thoroughly enjoyed watching a bit of history be made yesterday, I am filled with giggles over the fact that, well, Big Brown just didn't feel like running. You know, it's the same with dog shows, really: No matter how well they're trained, or primped, or whatever, if they need to scratch their ear in the middle of the judging, they will, because they're dogs. And the fact that this horse, who, according to most everyone, had the ability and temperament to win the first Triple Crown in however many years, just didn't want to run faster than the other horses is awesome. Probably not-so-awesome to the people who bet on him, but to me, he's a frickin' horse hero. My goodness, he's gorgeous, isn't he? I appreciate that there's some real disappointment associated with this, but on the whole, you can't blame the horse, because he doesn't understand what was riding on this race. He just knew that he was feeling a bit icky, and didn't really want to do what they all wanted him to do that day.
What do you with the information that your kid is so much easier on the babysitter than she is on you? Come to find out that when Megan told Sydney it was "night-night" time and that she needed a fresh diaper, Sydney walked back to her room, pulled out the diaper pad, and actually laid down on it. ... Um, huh? Laid down on it? Is this the same frickin' kid who goes into kicking fits every time I lay her down for a change? What the f*ck am I doing wrong when it comes to changing the diaper? How is Megan doing it that it becomes a much better situation? Of course, I'm a bit put out by this information. Rest assured that I will ask these questions next time Megan is here.
How is it possible for that many magazines to accumulate over a relatively short period of time? I just leafed through a hefty stack of InStyle, Entertainment Weekly, Raising Arizona Kids, and Crate & Barrel and Pottery Barn catalogs, which have, apparently, been multiplying while I've been occupied with other things. Of the stack of 18 magazines, only five periodicals remain in my reading stack. I like it better like that.
I've got nothing for you tonight. Except to say that I'm glad the Celtics won. Beyond that, well, the kid and I did little to nothing today, and that there is a definite difference between blueberries bought at AJ's and blueberries bought at Albertson's. Also, did you know that keeping apples in the same space with your other fruit in the refrigerator makes the other fruit ripen and get older quicker? I read that in a magazine, then asked my smart guy, and yes, that's the truth. I will spare you the incredibly ... incredibly ... detailed explanation I received upon asking the question. Simplified: apples give off a chemical while ripening that causes other fruit to ripen faster than it normally would, thus, it goes bad faster. Keeping the apples in a separate area, or in a plastic bag will help. Can you really believe that I found myself obsessed with this information and have thereby rearranged my refrigerator and added some of those produce-friendly storage bags to my grocery store list? It's the truth; I'm now absolutely positive that this must be taken care of in my own kitchen ... as soon as possible. You knows it'll be done this weekend, right?
Have you all seen video of this little rhinoceros running around her home at the Dublin Zoo? I caught it on the news tonight, and I'll tell you, it's the cutest thing I've seen in a long time. If you have the opportunity, you should really find it and take a look. I just dig her feet. Look how big they are! And compare that to all the big-footed puppies we see and say, "See those feet? That's going to be a big dog." Same here, but on a much larger scale. But still, she's just so cute.
I can't stand the political machine. Sometimes more than others, which is to say, today. Why should Barack Obama pick Hillary Clinton as his vice presidential running mate? Why is that something he needs to do? Political pundits all over the place are saying that he must. I mean, these two have just spent months and months tearing each other apart, disagreeing on a ton of stuff, and just generally hating the stuffing out of each other. And now so many people want them to simply make up and be happy on a ticket together? You know what, I don't think so. There's no place for Clinton on Obama's presidential ticket. Frankly, I wouldn't trust them on a ticket together simply because they did spend so much time hating each other this year. I like my president and vice president to get along, or at give the impression that they get along. I don't believe that the Obamas and the Clintons would mesh well in the White House. Certainly not after the Clintons had actually lived there for eight years, and now would be shacking up in the v.p's less-luxurious digs. There's just too much going on there for this kind of election. I'm very intrigued to see who Obama and his committee do decide on, but I'll bet you anything it's not Clinton.
So it's the second day of June already, and I haven't written to you a thing about the last few days. Not that all that much has happened, but you know, I like to talk about what's going on.
What else? Brian and I finally got to catch a new movie this past weekend: Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull! I love going to the movies on a weekend morning with my hubby. There were only about 15 people in the theater, too, so it was nice, cool and quiet ... as well as childless. As for the movie, we totally dug it. Brian usually doesn't get super excited about movies, so when he tells me that it was a good movie right as we're leaving it, I know he enjoyed it.