My, my. For the first time ever, I forgot to mention both my birthday and my blogs. We're ladies, we don't reveal our true age!
...hahaha yeah right. I just didn't say anything cause, well, I didn't.
So happy belated birthday to me! and happy belated birthday to my blog! We may be 20 years different in age but we're inseparable.
...yet another lie.
Oh and I forgot perhaps the most important birthday of the past week-ish. My little Add-pie. She done turn one. What the hell. That was fast. She may have been in a terrible mood on her first birthday but BOB COSTAS! Oh, sorry. But she was in a fantastic mood on Friday when AB and I went to babysit her. An absolute sweetheart. Smiles all around and lots of giggles. She made the cutest face when I found her sunglasses and put them on her. So chic! It was adorable.
Oh Olympics. I'm going to miss you when you're over. I feel so cultured while watching them. I learn all sorts of things!
Tuesday, February 23, 2010
Wednesday, February 17, 2010
If I were rich...
I've come up with a list of things I'd do if I were rich.
Ok yes, I've already done that. So I guess I'm just adding to it. This will be my Olympic addition.
1) Every two years I'd do absolutely nothing during the Olympics. And I mean absolutely nothing. I'd get up, turn on NBC (cause let's face it, is any other network going to ever air them) or one of the affiliated networks and watch. Sure in the morning and it times when the time differences are great it might be difficult but it will happen. I'll watch the Today Show since they're always Olympic-centric. Then I'd stay put in front to the TV until it was bed time. Since I'll be doing nothing I could even change my sleep schedule to revolve around the Olympic schedule. You know like when the games were in China and to watch some of it live you had to get up at 2 a.m. I never did that because I did in fact have better things to do. But nooo, not if I were rich.
2) I'd go to Park City or Lake Placid and pay to go on bobsled and skeleton rides all day! I looked into it, you can do that! Well, at least at Park City. It's only $50 to throw yourself down the skeleton track! Sign me the f up. Not even kidding. I want to try that. It looks so fun. Sure it's dangerous but it isn't as dangerous as the luge.
3) I'd hire Bob Costas a week a year during the Olympic off years to do some play-by-play or whatever for me. I don't know what exactly he'd do, perhaps follow me around work or something, but there he'd be.
4) I'd learn how to snowboard. If Shaun White can have his own personal half-pipe then in my fictitious wealthy state so could I! Oooh! Maybe if I were rich enough I could build my very own skeleton track! Though those look pricey...I could rent it out to Olympic teams to train on. Yeah. I could do that!
5) Maybe I'd build my own ice rink. I'd try my hand at some speed skating, hockey, figure skating and curling. Once again, I'd rent it out for others to use. Did you know that speed skate blades are so sharp that if you brush your finger nails against them, they get shaved? Yeah. I learned that last night. And no, not from Bob Costas.
Ok so I think I have it figured out. I'd have to have two complexes. Or compounds? Yeah! I'll be like the Kennedy's and call where I live the "compound." Sweet. One in a warm(er) climate for all my summer fun. One in Utah or Colorado for my very own winter sports arena. One in Wisconsin because, well, hello. You just have to. Don't forget I plan on buying the house from Full House. Oh! I'll just have all my corners covered. Wait. Not really I guess. It'll depend a lot on where I choose to build my warm weather compound.
Now if you'll excuse me I have to go and win the lottery or find a rich man or find a career where I'll bank the big bucks.
Oh and one more. I'd recommission the Vancouver Opening Ceremony with one teeny tiny change. Celine Dion would be there to sing. Or do you think she's going to sing at the Closing Ceremony? I'll hold out on this one until I find out.
Ok yes, I've already done that. So I guess I'm just adding to it. This will be my Olympic addition.
1) Every two years I'd do absolutely nothing during the Olympics. And I mean absolutely nothing. I'd get up, turn on NBC (cause let's face it, is any other network going to ever air them) or one of the affiliated networks and watch. Sure in the morning and it times when the time differences are great it might be difficult but it will happen. I'll watch the Today Show since they're always Olympic-centric. Then I'd stay put in front to the TV until it was bed time. Since I'll be doing nothing I could even change my sleep schedule to revolve around the Olympic schedule. You know like when the games were in China and to watch some of it live you had to get up at 2 a.m. I never did that because I did in fact have better things to do. But nooo, not if I were rich.
2) I'd go to Park City or Lake Placid and pay to go on bobsled and skeleton rides all day! I looked into it, you can do that! Well, at least at Park City. It's only $50 to throw yourself down the skeleton track! Sign me the f up. Not even kidding. I want to try that. It looks so fun. Sure it's dangerous but it isn't as dangerous as the luge.
3) I'd hire Bob Costas a week a year during the Olympic off years to do some play-by-play or whatever for me. I don't know what exactly he'd do, perhaps follow me around work or something, but there he'd be.
4) I'd learn how to snowboard. If Shaun White can have his own personal half-pipe then in my fictitious wealthy state so could I! Oooh! Maybe if I were rich enough I could build my very own skeleton track! Though those look pricey...I could rent it out to Olympic teams to train on. Yeah. I could do that!
5) Maybe I'd build my own ice rink. I'd try my hand at some speed skating, hockey, figure skating and curling. Once again, I'd rent it out for others to use. Did you know that speed skate blades are so sharp that if you brush your finger nails against them, they get shaved? Yeah. I learned that last night. And no, not from Bob Costas.
Ok so I think I have it figured out. I'd have to have two complexes. Or compounds? Yeah! I'll be like the Kennedy's and call where I live the "compound." Sweet. One in a warm(er) climate for all my summer fun. One in Utah or Colorado for my very own winter sports arena. One in Wisconsin because, well, hello. You just have to. Don't forget I plan on buying the house from Full House. Oh! I'll just have all my corners covered. Wait. Not really I guess. It'll depend a lot on where I choose to build my warm weather compound.
Now if you'll excuse me I have to go and win the lottery or find a rich man or find a career where I'll bank the big bucks.
Oh and one more. I'd recommission the Vancouver Opening Ceremony with one teeny tiny change. Celine Dion would be there to sing. Or do you think she's going to sing at the Closing Ceremony? I'll hold out on this one until I find out.
Monday, February 15, 2010
It's my favorite time of every four (two) years!
Seriously.
I have some hardcore love for the Olympics. We're talking hot and heavy, we're going steady, love.
I cheat on the Brewers when the Olympics are on it is that serious. Yeah. I know.
I have no preference. I'll take either. I've got a few favorite sports in each season but in the end its a wash of which one wins my heart.
The one thing that stays the same between Winter and Summer? Bob Costas. He is the man! Not only does he give such a great commentary during the opening ceremonies that he could flat out lie to me that I'd believe it. "Now entering the stadium are the athletes from Greece. Greece is a Mediterranean country whose chief export are iPods" Really Bob Costas? iPods? You don't say! It's a lie but I'd lap it up. He also is a great broadcaster. And he says things like the following. After the Canadian skier won the gold last night his girlfriend came running out and started mackin' on him. What did Bob Costas say (Oh and you know you can't just call him Bob. It's Bob Costas) "Well if the end of that interview is any indication, he's going to have a good Valentine's night." You betchya I said "Oh! BOB COSTAS!" and laughed for a solid minute.
(Oh my. So I was googling Bob Costas (what kind of reporter would I be without doing some research) and while doing it I'm watching the pairs figure skating finals. One of the judges just gasped in shock/horror. So naturally I whipped up to look at the TV to see what happened. You gotta love the figure skater commentators. Scott Hamilton? Come on!)
Another perk to the Olympics regardless of season? Matt Lauer. While I would believe anything Bob Costas says, I would buy anything Matt Lauer would sell. Why? I really don't know but I would. There is just something about Mr. Lauer that makes me think why yes! I will buy that load of crap just because you said so!
Don't even get me started on Tom Brokaw. Seriously. You think what I've said about Bob Costas and Matt is a bit much you do not want me to get into Tom. You keep your Dan Rather and your Peter Jennings. I'm a Brokaw girl through and through.
Btw when I was googling Bob Costas, the little google search thing started to finish it as Bob Costas Toupee. That can NOT be true! Bob Costas can't have a rug! His hair is 30 percent of the reason why I like him so much!
Ok. It's time to turn off the Olympics and this rambling post and read some LHOP. Whaaaaaat!
I have some hardcore love for the Olympics. We're talking hot and heavy, we're going steady, love.
I cheat on the Brewers when the Olympics are on it is that serious. Yeah. I know.
I have no preference. I'll take either. I've got a few favorite sports in each season but in the end its a wash of which one wins my heart.
The one thing that stays the same between Winter and Summer? Bob Costas. He is the man! Not only does he give such a great commentary during the opening ceremonies that he could flat out lie to me that I'd believe it. "Now entering the stadium are the athletes from Greece. Greece is a Mediterranean country whose chief export are iPods" Really Bob Costas? iPods? You don't say! It's a lie but I'd lap it up. He also is a great broadcaster. And he says things like the following. After the Canadian skier won the gold last night his girlfriend came running out and started mackin' on him. What did Bob Costas say (Oh and you know you can't just call him Bob. It's Bob Costas) "Well if the end of that interview is any indication, he's going to have a good Valentine's night." You betchya I said "Oh! BOB COSTAS!" and laughed for a solid minute.
(Oh my. So I was googling Bob Costas (what kind of reporter would I be without doing some research) and while doing it I'm watching the pairs figure skating finals. One of the judges just gasped in shock/horror. So naturally I whipped up to look at the TV to see what happened. You gotta love the figure skater commentators. Scott Hamilton? Come on!)
Another perk to the Olympics regardless of season? Matt Lauer. While I would believe anything Bob Costas says, I would buy anything Matt Lauer would sell. Why? I really don't know but I would. There is just something about Mr. Lauer that makes me think why yes! I will buy that load of crap just because you said so!
Don't even get me started on Tom Brokaw. Seriously. You think what I've said about Bob Costas and Matt is a bit much you do not want me to get into Tom. You keep your Dan Rather and your Peter Jennings. I'm a Brokaw girl through and through.
Btw when I was googling Bob Costas, the little google search thing started to finish it as Bob Costas Toupee. That can NOT be true! Bob Costas can't have a rug! His hair is 30 percent of the reason why I like him so much!
Ok. It's time to turn off the Olympics and this rambling post and read some LHOP. Whaaaaaat!
Sunday, February 14, 2010
Your Valentine's Gift
If you've read this blog for more then a year then you know that I hate Valentine's Day. Hate it. Hate, hate, hate, hate it.
But instead of lingering on that hatred, I'm giving you the gift of song.
Enjoy.
"I Gave my 24-7 to You" by 2gether
If you don't feel like listening to it, which I encourage you to do, here are the lyrics instead:
You said jump,
I asked how high.
You made the rules that we live by.
And now I find, I've made a Frankenstein.
I spoil you rotten, night and day.
I always let you get your way.
I did the crime, now I'm doin' time.
Baby, for showing you I care,
I'm tearing out my hair.
Baby, you never do your share,
You know it isn't fair.
I gave my 24-7 to you,
doin' everything you wanted to.
I bought you Sushi and Yoga too.
You bought a wringer, just to pull me through,
girl you know that it's true, I gave my 24-7 to you.
Every time that we're alone
You sit there talkin' on the phone.
It never ends, now I hate your friends.
Any time I tell you no
You're quick to tell me where to go.
I'd leave it all, if I had your balls.
Baby, I let you wear the pants,
You wore off our romance.
Baby, you never miss a chance
to tell me I can't dance.
I gave my 24-7 to you,
doin' everything you wanted to.
I bought you Prada and Navy too.
You never wear 'em, now I'm feelin' blue,
cuz' you know that it's true.
I gave my 24-7 to you.
Baby, it's true,
there will never ever ever, ever never
be another one like you.
I gave my 24-7 to you,
doin't everything you wanted to.
I bought you Britney and Limp Bizkit too.
You sold them back on money that I blew,
girl you know that it's true.
I gave my 24-7 to you.
Aaaahhhh. I've been singing that song for the past two days and I just can't seem to figure you why...
But instead of lingering on that hatred, I'm giving you the gift of song.
Enjoy.
"I Gave my 24-7 to You" by 2gether
If you don't feel like listening to it, which I encourage you to do, here are the lyrics instead:
You said jump,
I asked how high.
You made the rules that we live by.
And now I find, I've made a Frankenstein.
I spoil you rotten, night and day.
I always let you get your way.
I did the crime, now I'm doin' time.
Baby, for showing you I care,
I'm tearing out my hair.
Baby, you never do your share,
You know it isn't fair.
I gave my 24-7 to you,
doin' everything you wanted to.
I bought you Sushi and Yoga too.
You bought a wringer, just to pull me through,
girl you know that it's true, I gave my 24-7 to you.
Every time that we're alone
You sit there talkin' on the phone.
It never ends, now I hate your friends.
Any time I tell you no
You're quick to tell me where to go.
I'd leave it all, if I had your balls.
Baby, I let you wear the pants,
You wore off our romance.
Baby, you never miss a chance
to tell me I can't dance.
I gave my 24-7 to you,
doin' everything you wanted to.
I bought you Prada and Navy too.
You never wear 'em, now I'm feelin' blue,
cuz' you know that it's true.
I gave my 24-7 to you.
Baby, it's true,
there will never ever ever, ever never
be another one like you.
I gave my 24-7 to you,
doin't everything you wanted to.
I bought you Britney and Limp Bizkit too.
You sold them back on money that I blew,
girl you know that it's true.
I gave my 24-7 to you.
Aaaahhhh. I've been singing that song for the past two days and I just can't seem to figure you why...
Friday, February 12, 2010
I need an answer...
I have a question that I need help answering.
What is the appropriate size ball to send to a man who has been emasculated by his wife? Tennis or golf? Or is it more a "I need to judge the situation and then make the call" type deals?
See all along I've been leaning towards tennis because I find them to be a more suitable substitute. But now as I have been thinking about it more, I'm starting to think golf. Why? Because they must have been pretty small to start with in order for them to be ripped off and stomped on.
But that's just me.
I'm thinking about sending them anonymously with a note that says "here's a replacement pair since your wife appears to have crushed yours. Try to keep these ones clear of her heels."
Ok so I won't really do that. Though I might. It is more tempting with each passing day to send them. (another reason I started to think golf? Cheaper postage!) We'll see. I have a certain reputation. I'm not one to express my anger. Well alright fine I do it here but in person? No. I say very little. I'm generally a quite, non-confrontational person. So when I do get pissed off you know something is very wrong. I have a feeling that sooner then later I shall let free the anger onto the world. Then everyone will know that the situation has reached a critical point.
In other news...
Have I told you how much I want this picture once my parents are done with it? Hella bad is how much I want it.
Technically it's supposed to be Tyler's. But that SOB has gotten all sorts of shit from our parents that AB and I will never get. Kitchen table, couches and chairs, desk, etc. If I could pick one single thing I want from them it is this. A limited addition Robin Yount lithograph of him hitting his 3,000th hit. There are only 675 of them. We've got one cause there was probably only 675 Brewer fans in '92. (they sucked!) I want it. I do! It also comes with a ticket stub, and a picture of the Kid signing it. Sometimes when I have to go and get a gallon of milk from the fridge I take a second to stop and look at it. Yes. I said that and yes I know I'm a freak. Plus I'm a way better Brewer fan then Tyler. And he'd probably ruin it or pawn it for cash. (Ok not really)
It will look nice in the shrine I plan on erecting in my house/apartment/condo/cardboard box. I'll have that as the center of attention with a table in front of it. On the table will be my bobbleheads, a couple of candles (cause it is a prereq to have candles in a shrine), a bottle of whiskey and Brewers shot glass. Before every game I'll take a swig of gut rot, light a candle and say a prayer on the stitches of the baseball. All my other Brewer artifacts will be laid out carefully in a Feng Shui way to optimize the chance of a Brewer victory. And since baseball is a superstitious sport so by proxy I am too, I will rearrange my shrine until I find a winning combination.
Say what you will. You're just jealous you didn't think of it first.
What is the appropriate size ball to send to a man who has been emasculated by his wife? Tennis or golf? Or is it more a "I need to judge the situation and then make the call" type deals?
See all along I've been leaning towards tennis because I find them to be a more suitable substitute. But now as I have been thinking about it more, I'm starting to think golf. Why? Because they must have been pretty small to start with in order for them to be ripped off and stomped on.
But that's just me.
I'm thinking about sending them anonymously with a note that says "here's a replacement pair since your wife appears to have crushed yours. Try to keep these ones clear of her heels."
Ok so I won't really do that. Though I might. It is more tempting with each passing day to send them. (another reason I started to think golf? Cheaper postage!) We'll see. I have a certain reputation. I'm not one to express my anger. Well alright fine I do it here but in person? No. I say very little. I'm generally a quite, non-confrontational person. So when I do get pissed off you know something is very wrong. I have a feeling that sooner then later I shall let free the anger onto the world. Then everyone will know that the situation has reached a critical point.
In other news...
Have I told you how much I want this picture once my parents are done with it? Hella bad is how much I want it.
Technically it's supposed to be Tyler's. But that SOB has gotten all sorts of shit from our parents that AB and I will never get. Kitchen table, couches and chairs, desk, etc. If I could pick one single thing I want from them it is this. A limited addition Robin Yount lithograph of him hitting his 3,000th hit. There are only 675 of them. We've got one cause there was probably only 675 Brewer fans in '92. (they sucked!) I want it. I do! It also comes with a ticket stub, and a picture of the Kid signing it. Sometimes when I have to go and get a gallon of milk from the fridge I take a second to stop and look at it. Yes. I said that and yes I know I'm a freak. Plus I'm a way better Brewer fan then Tyler. And he'd probably ruin it or pawn it for cash. (Ok not really)
It will look nice in the shrine I plan on erecting in my house/apartment/condo/cardboard box. I'll have that as the center of attention with a table in front of it. On the table will be my bobbleheads, a couple of candles (cause it is a prereq to have candles in a shrine), a bottle of whiskey and Brewers shot glass. Before every game I'll take a swig of gut rot, light a candle and say a prayer on the stitches of the baseball. All my other Brewer artifacts will be laid out carefully in a Feng Shui way to optimize the chance of a Brewer victory. And since baseball is a superstitious sport so by proxy I am too, I will rearrange my shrine until I find a winning combination.
Say what you will. You're just jealous you didn't think of it first.
Friday, February 5, 2010
Which is it?
Is it or isn't it? I'm tempted to light a match and find out...
Yes I see that there is French on the bottle ergo the inflammable probably means flammable to the French
Wednesday, February 3, 2010
My Philosophy
Here is my philosophy on parenting.
Wait. Before I get to that, in the interest of disclaimers and full disclosure...Yes, I have no children. Yes, I've never served as a "parental figure" in anyone's life. No, I do not spend my days around children. No, my philosophy is not sound nor is it perfect but is any philosophy that way?
Back to the topic at hand...
Here is my parenting philosophy. It is simple and it is sound. All you have to do is ask yourself "Do I want my kid to be That Kid?"
You know, That Kid who everyone knows for a not good reason. Who is whispered about behind his/her back, whose reputation as That Kid will follow them all through school. I don't want any of my kids to be That Kid.
I'm sure everyone was That Kid at some point or in some certain area. Like oh, That Kid peed his pants in second grade. That shit follows you. Granted that has nothing to do with parenting, it just sort of sets up the whole That Kid argument.
Say you don't let your kids eat candy. One day at recess little MaryBeth might want to share her Skittles. She offers them to your kid and she responds, "Oh my parents don't let me eat candy." Que the awkward silence as MaryBeth commits it to memory that That Kid doesn't eat candy.
Life is hard enough, kids are mean and middle school is downright brutal. Do you really want to add to that by being in part responsible for labeling your kid That Kid? I know I don't want to. I'm not saying you have to sacrifice individualism, personal beliefs or morals. You've just got to balance it. You can't control other people's kids. You just can't. Your kid is going to have issues with buttheads regardless of if they are That Kid or not. It is just the facts of life. The question is do you want to add to it by tagging your child with a certain stigma that will eventually screw them over so when they are 15 they can scream at you "THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT MOM! YOU'RE THE ONE THAT NEVER LET ME EAT CANDY!!!!!!!"
Ok so obviously not eating candy isn't really a major issue. I'm just using it because, well, I just am. I have heard stories about That Kid from the teachers in my family. Some of these kids are getting stuck with the label at the age of 7 and they're going to have to live with it until they graduate.
I'm just sayin'. You got to think about these things. Do you really want your precious little girl or boy to end up That Kid?
I didn't think so.
This sort of brings up my issue with people who name their kids weird things. It is just cruel. I should make a group. PUNKS. People United against Naming Kids Stupidly.
After I re-read this, ya know, a week later I realized my PUNKS didn't make any sense. So I'm taking artistic license by saying "against" does not need to be capitalized therefore it does not need to be part of the abbreviation....yes. That is quite the large license.
Wait. Before I get to that, in the interest of disclaimers and full disclosure...Yes, I have no children. Yes, I've never served as a "parental figure" in anyone's life. No, I do not spend my days around children. No, my philosophy is not sound nor is it perfect but is any philosophy that way?
Back to the topic at hand...
Here is my parenting philosophy. It is simple and it is sound. All you have to do is ask yourself "Do I want my kid to be That Kid?"
You know, That Kid who everyone knows for a not good reason. Who is whispered about behind his/her back, whose reputation as That Kid will follow them all through school. I don't want any of my kids to be That Kid.
I'm sure everyone was That Kid at some point or in some certain area. Like oh, That Kid peed his pants in second grade. That shit follows you. Granted that has nothing to do with parenting, it just sort of sets up the whole That Kid argument.
Say you don't let your kids eat candy. One day at recess little MaryBeth might want to share her Skittles. She offers them to your kid and she responds, "Oh my parents don't let me eat candy." Que the awkward silence as MaryBeth commits it to memory that That Kid doesn't eat candy.
Life is hard enough, kids are mean and middle school is downright brutal. Do you really want to add to that by being in part responsible for labeling your kid That Kid? I know I don't want to. I'm not saying you have to sacrifice individualism, personal beliefs or morals. You've just got to balance it. You can't control other people's kids. You just can't. Your kid is going to have issues with buttheads regardless of if they are That Kid or not. It is just the facts of life. The question is do you want to add to it by tagging your child with a certain stigma that will eventually screw them over so when they are 15 they can scream at you "THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT MOM! YOU'RE THE ONE THAT NEVER LET ME EAT CANDY!!!!!!!"
Ok so obviously not eating candy isn't really a major issue. I'm just using it because, well, I just am. I have heard stories about That Kid from the teachers in my family. Some of these kids are getting stuck with the label at the age of 7 and they're going to have to live with it until they graduate.
I'm just sayin'. You got to think about these things. Do you really want your precious little girl or boy to end up That Kid?
I didn't think so.
This sort of brings up my issue with people who name their kids weird things. It is just cruel. I should make a group. PUNKS. People United against Naming Kids Stupidly.
After I re-read this, ya know, a week later I realized my PUNKS didn't make any sense. So I'm taking artistic license by saying "against" does not need to be capitalized therefore it does not need to be part of the abbreviation....yes. That is quite the large license.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)