Costco Isn't Taking Part in the Recession

Background: I hate shopping in crowds.  Ok, I hate shopping, but I REALLY hate shopping in crowds.  Therefore, I've had all my Christmas shopping done for awhile and lately I've been buying our food late at night so I don't have to deal with rude and pushy Christmas shoppers.

Much to my dismay, we accidentally left our Christmas dinner roast in the car overnight.  Gross.  The next morning when I found it my car smelled like raw meat and the meat itself looked a little black-- it made me want to throw up a little.  So not only did my $17 roast become dog food, I had to go to Costco today.

I went right before closing time and the parking lot was very full, but not completely.  Everyone looked stressed out, but at least I could maneuver my cart somewhat.  I got my second roast and got in line.  The lady in front of me said she worked at Costco and that morning when they opened, there was 1100 people waiting to get in the door and the check out lines went all the way to the back of the store.  Holy moly.  

The moral of this story is:

1- Don't leave raw meat in the car overnight.

2-Don't go to Costco when it opens, go when it closes.

You're welcome.

By 8:37 am

By 8:37 am this morning I had already changed three poopy diapers.  SO, I did the only thing any normal person would do-- I ate three chocolate chip cookies for breakfast.

Dear Husband

Dear Husband,

I tried to kill a spider today, I really did.  Kid came up to me and said, "Mommy, big bug."  So I got the tissue and went over to the eight-legged doom.  I wadded up the tissue and tapped the monster, only to have him run towards me.  The dancing and screaming began, and the courage was gone.  Sorry, you are still the official spider killer of the family.  Think of it as job security.

Love, 

ME

Contractions CD

The other day I was driving the car that my husband normally drives.  In the console I found "Contractions CD"-- the CD I made for when I was in labor and the music I was supposedly going to listen to that would calm me down.  Right.  I listened to it just to see how much of a mental case I actually was.  It was lots of James Taylor ("Sweet Baby James") and James Blunt ("You're Beautiful")-- gag me-- and other such ridiculousness.   If I had only known...

Twilight Review

 First, a word about the Twilight series.  Yes, it was written for teens.  No, you are not smarter after you read it.  Don't judge if you haven't read it (Ry, Em).  The author creates a heroine we can all relate to and a hero that everyone adores-- what's not to like?  Now this doesn't mean you have to name your children after Bella and Edward or scream hysterically when the movie begins, but its okay to be entertained.  So there.

So, now about the movie.  It kinda sucked.  First off, I did my homework.  Since this was the first movie I was going to see in the movie theater in OVER A YEAR, I had to research.  I watched an interview with the two main stars.  They took themselves WAY to seriously.  The girl that plays Bella said she could put up with the fame to get other projects that she really wanted to do funded.  Don't bite the hand that feeds you, babe.  The boy that plays Edward was just strange, he didn't make a lot of sense, like he was trying to sound too smart, too "deep".  So after that, I thought that they must just be really great actors... wrong. 

 The special effects were horrible.  I could probably have forgiven this if everything else was okay, but it wasn't.  I'm sure its really hard to pick and choose what to take from the book, but that's no excuse, the screenwriters get paid way too much.  It was choppy and poorly delivered, lots of staring at each other and cheesy lines.  Instead of liking and relating to Bella, I just thought she was a snobby teenager.  For the amount of hype this movie created, it should have been in the same level of movie making talent as other book-turned-movie blockbusters.  That's all.

What My Grandma Passed onto Me

So the other day I spent about 45 minutes on the phone with my grandma while she passed on very important information to me-- how to get pot.  I guess when my Uncle had cancer, they found that pot calmed him way down.  Being the wonderful, motherly, woman that she is, at 65 years old (20 years ago), she decided to track down some pot for my uncle.  

She first started asking my dad's friend from high school.  He just laughed, not sure if he hooked her up or not.  Since that didn't work, she went to my aunt who hooked her up with a "doctor".  The pot arrived in the mail wrapped in foil three times.  This supposedly throws off the dogs from smelling it (who knew?).  

The best part of the conversation was when she asked me what they were calling it these days.  She wanted to get the right name cause she said people laugh at her every time she calls it a "stogie".  Hummm...  Sadly I didn't have that info for her, I'm not fluent in pot.  I hate disappointing her.

Love you Cute Grandma!

My Brother-in-law

My brother-in-law needs a hook up.  Here's his personal ad, written by me:

Male 26 year old seeking female sugar mama.  Looking for love with someone who doesn't care if fun loving college student own three cars but no house.  Must enjoy snow sports and making out.  Has to have sense of adventure to do ridiculous trips.  Must not expect fancy or expensive dates.  Must like surfer styled hair.  Must be hot.

That about sums it up, good luck Chris finding your soul mate.

Team Jen

So I just read on the internet that Jennifer Aniston called Angelina Jolie "uncool."  Jen still remains a classy lady if this is all the unkindness she has in her.  Just to make it very clear, I am FULLY a member of Team Jen.  That being said, I think its time we all let it go so that magazines stop making millions of dollars off supposed drama between the three.  But just one more thing... Brad isn't as hot as he used to be.

I Guess its Time

I guess its time to feed my daughter when she starts eating the last meal leftovers off the floor.  I SWEAR I sweep daily.

Quirk That

So Em tagged me, I'm supposed to list five quirks.  Easy...

1-  I'm really particular about the vacuum lines in the carpet.  I like them very symmetrical and inwardly sigh when someone walks in my perfectly vacuumed room.

2-  I tend to repeat stories twice.  Not sure why I do this, but don't think I'm insulting your intelligence when I tell the story two times in a row.

3-  I love pomegranates.  I eat them while I'm watching TV.  It takes me about 1/2 hour to eat one.

4- I hate having unanswered emails and bills unpaid.  I consider myself "on top of things" when I've responded to every email I need to.  I usually pay my bills the day they arrive.

5-  I HATE IT when people don't use their blinker when driving.  Annoys me like no other.

Feel free to add to the list, consider yourself tagged.

I Can Feed Three People for $1.50

So I'm pretty proud of myself.  At Costco, I can feed my two kids and myself lunch for $1.50.  Here's the break down:

For $1.50, I buy the soda hot dog combo.  I split the hot dog in half, my son gets one half I get the other.  My daughter eats the excess bread off my half in little pieces.  We all share the water I put in the soda glass (no soda for kids!)  

Ta-da!  I knew you'd be impressed.

Happiest Place On Earth

Disneyland, move over!  My city is the happiest place on earth!

Why?  People make out in parking lots here.  Yup, grown adults going at it all over the place.  This is supposed to be a rich people's town-- don't they have houses?  Or cars?

Which leads me to the question:  What do you do when people are making out in public?  I'm not talking a a little kiss, I'm talking full on sucking faces off.  I see a few options:

1- Ignore, avert eyes.

2- Make juvenile remark, usually "Get a room!"

3- Stare at them until they stop

None of these are really to my liking.  I wish I could think of something better.

My Washing Machine

A FEW DAYS AGO:

Dear Washing Machine,

Please stop leaking.  I just got you a few weeks ago with our new house and you aren't covered in the house warranty.  I promise to be very nice, to give you only wonderful detergents and to not stress you out by giving you large work loads.  I promise to spray Shout on all stains so that you don't have to work so hard... just please stop the water puddles in my laundry room.  How about this-- I'll pretend I didn't see the leak and you stop doing it? 

Love,

J-me

YESTERDAY:

No more water leak!

MORAL OF THE STORY:

If you don't want to pay a service man to fix your appliances, write love letters instead.

Ooops, his bad

Sorry I've been MIA, I've been moving.  Actually, I think I'm just apologizing to myself cause I haven't actually given this web address out to anyone except Em.  So funny story:

Husband and I were invited to go to the Marriage Enhancement class at church.  They challenged us this week to "put the romance back into our relationship."  Don't worry, this is G-rated.  So its become a joke between us.  For example, I find a cheesy poem, give it to husband, and say, "Look, I've put the romance back in our relationship-- your turn."  

So we're unpacking boxes from college and he comes across something and hands it to me.  He says, "Here's romance for you."  This is what the paper says:

Husand's hand writing: "Has anyone told you lately how good looking you are-- especially in red?"

Someone else's hand writing NOT MINE: "No, not lately.  I don't know what to say to that.  I have been trying to think of something but nothing sounds right.  So I guess you have me at a loss of words which doesn't happen very often."  (Umm... lame!)

So I say to my husband: ""Um, this isn't my hand writing."

Husband: (Misses a beat) "Yes it is."

Me: "No, its not.  Yeah, that was romantic."

His bad.  And FYI, my response would have been WAY better.

Alias Obsession

So Alias hasn't been on for what four years now?  

I had a dream last night that I was Sydney Bristow and my husband was Vaughn.  We were on a mission for SD-6 (the bad guys, cause we were double agents) in Bangkok.  Being the new agent that I was, I accidentally used my REAL ID to check into a hotel.  Oooppps!  I told my husband what happened and he looked at me while he was silently thinking, "Rookie."  When we got home, at the debriefing I asked my handler to get some fake IDs.  When we got home, there were these shady looking guys driving around in State Trooper cars.  (State Troopers... right)  We put both put the kids in the car and started trying to out maneuver them and get away (because of course we would bring our children on a high sped chase in our bright red Chevy truck).  We got away from the State Troopers, but then a group of "cops" blocked the road.  I rolled down the window and said, "Show me your badge!"  he wouldn't, so I knew he was a fake.  I told husband, "Go! Go! Go!"  That's when I woke up.

I miss Alias. 

My Swim Class

I frequently attend a water aerobics class at the local gym.  The average age in the class is about 70, I am 28.  These ladies are HILARIOUS.  Conversations a few days ago:

Cute grandma #1:  "My friend just married someone 15 years younger than her!  He's not even 50 yet!  He walked in from riding his bike and he was still in his little shorts-- WOW!  MY husband was mumbling that he was showing off and I said he could show off anytime he wanted to.  My friend says its SO FUN when they are young!"

Cute grandma #2: "While we're in the pool, we can pretend we're on vacation on the beach in Mexico-- we just need a hot cabana boy bringing us drinks."

Note to All Engaged People

Singing to each other during the first dance of your wedding might make me laugh... but I will try hard not to.

LeBron James

So I have a family blog where I tell all about my family and post pictures of them and all that. BUT, this morning I woke up and had a funny dream and thought "I should put it on the blog" then realized it wouldn't really fit in to my normal postings, so I started a blog JUST FOR ME. I don't care if anyone reads it, just wanted to have a journal of sorts for myself.

So my dream:
I was at a big outdoor tailgate party of was dating LeBron James. He was starting to bug me, always doing dumb jock things (it must have been pretty stupid since I consider myself in the jock-ette catagory also). I went to talk to him and somehow we're at eye level (I'm 5 foot 3 inches) and I say, 'This just isn't working, baby." (Note: If you know me, "baby" is not in the vocab except refering to small people) He nods like he understands and says okay.

Dream analysed:
A friend told me about a tough breakup and I saw LeBron on the Olympics yesterday... combine the two and you get me dating LeBron then breaking up.