Wednesday, February 29, 2012

Benny the Bachelor

Kaci B.

Ben's not doing so good. I totally thought Kaci B. would be the girl he proposed to. I feels so bad for her because her parents totally ruined it for her. They made it out to be like she is 16 and they aren't sure if they are ready to let her go out on a date with Ben. She's 24! She is old enough to make her own decisions. But seriously, they scared the shit out of Ben. I could not believe that she showed up on Monday nights fantasy date episode. I doubt she asked to come back. I would bet $100 that the producers called Kaci and started the conversation like this, "Hi Kaci. I bet you're still all torn up over not receiving a rose. Do you want to see Ben again? Better yet Kaci, do you want a free trip to Switzerland? We're working on a fantastic scenario for the fantasy episode, and you could play a key role. Do you mind humiliating yourself?" I don't blame her for jumping in head first. Though I didn't like when she layed on the hotel hallway carpet in a moment of disbelief. I think laying on the floor in public is a big no no.
The fantasy dates were okay at best. Switzerland looks freaking awesome and I knew there would be some serious helicopter action, but Lindsey's date was awful. I would never in a million years want to "repel" off the side of a cliff. I would be super pissed if I ended up on that sucky date. But it was super dooper for cheese ball Lindsey. She is an orange faced cliche. She isn't ugly at all, it's just that she has "base face". She puts on foundation and powder and mascara and that's it. Her lips are the exact same fake color as the rest of her face. I don't like it at all. I don't really think she'd be a good choice for Ben. I don't think Ben really likes her that much either. He is clearly crazy infatuated with Courtney. I hate how she acts super dumb for Ben. I don't think men find stupid girls attractive, but if the Bachelor is any indicator, I am totally wrong about that one. I recall Ben taking the smart, witty Emily on a date where he flat out told her how impressed he was with her brain power. I also remember him eliminating her that same episode. That single bad move sort of soured Ben for me. I am certain he wants to chose Courtney and I'm certain his mom and sister will HATE her. Ben's in a real pickle here. Courtney is horrible. When she started crying in her side interview, my husband yelled, "Make it rain Courtney!" I loved his enthusiasm. Dave is a good man and he doesn't want to see a woman sad, but even he has totally had it with Courtney's bullshit. Poor Ben blew this one big time. The worst part is that if he chooses Courtney, boring, orange-face Lindsey will probably be the next Bachelorette. GAG! That is not something I'll be able to stomach. I can't wait to see the most dramatic conclusion ever.

Tuesday, February 28, 2012

My Kids Oscar Fashion Review

I love me some dress judging! I guess the apple really doesn't fall far from the tree because my five year old is just as judgy. She is VERY kind and even Deena from the Jersey Shore will find some kind words from my daughter. I loved Guiliana Rancic's dress the best. I thought she looked gorgeous and she better because she is a host on E's Fashion Police. Angelina looked good, but she was trying way too hard. She probably threw her hip right out of it's socket with that strange leg out of the slit pose. And I always say this, but she needs food really bad. She would look so much better if she'd ditch this stupid anorexia. Dave always says he feels so bad for Brad Pitt because at the end of the day, he has to cuddle up to a bag of bones. Yuck! We get it Angie! You are thin and you love refugees. Now eat something. I really don't like the dresses that Meryl Streep wears either. I feel like she wears the same ugly dress, in a different color, every year. Octavia Spencer, from The Help, she wore a gorgeous dress to the Oscars and it looked similar to her Golden Globe dress, but it is a great cut on her. Meryl needs some help when comes to dress shopping. Maybe Octavia can help her.

Sasha loved Penelope Cruz's dress. She felt that it looked like a delicious blueberry. That seemed to be her favorite. She thought J-lo looked really pretty and sparkly, but also very inappropriate. Sasha hates when they show too much skin. She loved Jessica Chastain, because her dress looked like a chandelier! All of her comments crack me up, but she had one in particular that nearly made me pee my pants. She saw Brad Pitt and her only comment was this, "Hey, isn't that Miley Cyrus' dad!" I had to laugh. Who would have ever thought Brad Pitt could be mistaken for Billy Ray Cyrus? But I looked at the photo and I'll be darned, she was spot on.

Penelope "the blueberry" Cruz

Jessica "the Chandier" Chastain

Billy Ray and Miley

Brad Pitt and Angelina's freak leg

Sunday, February 26, 2012

Wedding Invitation

I love the spring and summer because it's wedding season. I love finding an invite in my mailbox. It's way better than a bill and it usually means I get to wear a cute dress and go on a mandatory date. Maybe I might even get to go to Ross to find a dress, YAY! I love drinks, cake and dancing! It's all win-win for me. Oh, and it's nice to see young love birds make it official.

Dave, on the other hand, doesn't get so excited. He likes to look at invitations, especially if there is a picture, but he doesn't get excited to attend the event. When the invites arrive we usually have the exact same conversation every time and it goes like this:

Dave "Do we have to go to this?"

Me "I want to go!"

D "Are the kids coming and if they aren't what are we going to do with them?"

M "They aren't coming and I figured we would just lock the girls up in the playroom and hope for the best."

D "So your mom will babysit."

M "Yes."

D "Didn't this dude/girl already get married like 5 years ago?

M "Yes he/she did and that practice wedding was so fun, so I bet this real wedding will be even better!"

D "Why is he/she having another wedding?"

M "Well isn't it obvious? They are clearly out to sabotage your Saturday June 5th evening! It's all just a ploy to wreck your life Dave! There's no possible way this person has really found love, they just want to make Dave buy them another present. That's got to be the reason, I just know it!"

D "Okay, okay, I get it. What kind of food is there gonna be?"

M "I don't know Dave. I'm just working with the information on the invitation. Are you going to skip it if there won't be prime rib?"

D "No, I was just wondering. How long do we have to stay?"

M "I thought we retired that question. Can you please never ever ask me that question again."

He always ends up coming to the weddings and he always has a good time. He eats, he drinks, he socializes and he rarely if ever asks to leave early. I don't know why he has to be a freak show when the invites come.

Friday, February 24, 2012

The Wii pumps up my ego!

I am a world class dancer. Michael Jackson would have been proud to have me as a back up dancer. I am one of the worlds best bowlers. I could be a professional bowler if I wanted to. And my race car driving skills are way above average. You don't even want to attempt to beat me in dirt bike racing, especially if the race takes place inside the Coconut Mall or at Yoshi Falls.

If you've ever met me, you would know that all these things are the Nintendo Wii world! But in the real world...not so much. My mind has been viciously deceived by these games. Now would be a good time to fess up and just admit that I am a 33 year old, stay at home mom gamer. Why let my five year old beat me at Mario Kart when I can use that time to train her to be the best. My girl is a champion! She is my wing-girl. We are Mario Kart Internet champions! She wasn't born a Nintendo Champion, she trained good and hard to become one. And yes, I am very proud! Video game talent is serious currency around this house.

In reality, I've never even ridden a dirt bike. I know I'd have a back case of "whiskey throttle" if I ever tried. In real life, I do love to bowl, but I my average score is 100. And I'm overjoyed with that score. I'm a pretty good dancer, but I lack the memory needed to remember choreography. Oh hell yes I killed it on the St. Joe drill team, and I was a cheerleader, until I quit a few months into it. I loved quitting things in High School! I never really considered that as a cheerleader, I would be required to attend all school sporting events. That was a bit of a time-suck for a boy crazy teen. But back to the point, the Michael Jackson Wii dance game has led me believe that I am one of the best dancers on the planet. It feels really nice, but it isn't even remotely true.

Dave and I play this Wii billiards game and we are amazing! We decided to go on a real date and go out and play pool for real. We are awful. We were both getting pretty irritated with the truth of it. A few games in, we were improving, but our lack of real skills stung a bit. On the Wii, I can get three balls in off the break and sometimes I clean the table before Dave even takes a shot. That is a far cry from what really happens when I play pool in reality. I scratched on the break and there were many turns where I didn't even come close to getting my targeted ball in the pocket. It was awful to have my ego be destroyed.

I guess the point is this, if you are organizing an Indy car race team don't even give me a test lap on the track. I'm good and small, but I can't be your champion driver. Especially if there is shifting involved, and I'm pretty sure there's no such thing as an automatic Indy car. I'm embarrassed to admit it, but I'm probably useless as a real life race car driver. And don't even think of taking me onto a battlefield. I can barely figure out my Wii machine gun on Call of Duty. You wouldn't want to be anywhere near me with the real thing.

Thursday, February 23, 2012

Answer These Questions

If Britney Spears sang at the blind auditions for The Voice, would any of the judges push their button and ask her to join their team?

What would Simon Cowell say about a live Britney audition?

Does Magic Johnson still have HIV? He announced that he was HIV positive like 22 years ago. He looks healthy as a horse on my HD T.V. I'm happy for him if he's gotten over it, but I wonder about it a lot.

Have you EVER heard of any normal person being hospitalized for exhaustion? This mysterious "exhaustion" is a major reason for celebrity hospitalization. I've been pretty damn tired before, but I've never even considered going to the emergency room and letting the professionals deal with it. I think the local E.R. docs would admit me, take my money and then laugh at me in the break room. Shouldn't you just get a babysitter and go to bed? How hard could it be celebs?

Did you know that the man who invented the first toilet was Mr. Crapper? I'm not even joking. We learned this little tidbit of information on the History Channel show, Modern Marvels. I'm thrilled that Dave isn't a descendant of Mr. Crapper. I'd hate being Mrs. Crapper.

Wednesday, February 22, 2012

Ross Again

I found myself at Ross again yesterday. My daughters birthday is in a few days and I've seen this little princess castle pop-up tent at Ross and my girls want one really bad. Of course we saw it a month ago and yesterday I couldn't find one anywhere. I should have bought it when I saw first saw it, but I hesitated and you just can't afford to hesitate at a store like Ross.

As soon as I walked through the doors, my full Ross experience began! The loss prevention specialist was really hard at work yesterday. He approached a woman and let her know that her child, whom she had just sat in the cart, would not be allowed to eat the hamburger (which she had also set down in the cart) while browsing the store. Ghetto mama then grabbed the burger which was literally resting in the cart (no wrapper) and told her two year old to eat fast cause mama wants to shop. It was a yucky scene indeed. I felt bad for the kid for so many reasons. First, should a baby be eating a hamburger dinner in a shopping cart at Ross? I believe the answer is no. But teen mom has a busy schedule and her needs CLEARLY trump babies needs. Maybe she was planning on buying him an $8 Polo knockoff to make up for it. Who knows?

So I'm making my way towards the toy shelf at the back of the store. I keep getting side tracked by cute clothes hanging on the racks. I'm browsing tank tops when a small child emerges from the rack of clothes. He also looks about two and mom is nowhere in sight. This is nothing new for me. I am a magnet for lost kids. A lost kid once found me at Target and told me he'd lost his mother. Next he told me that his mother has a purse so we'd be able to find her for sure based on that tidbit of information. My five year old just looked at him and said, "Duh! All moms have purses. Don't you even know what color it is, or her name?". He did not have this information, but we were able to find his mommy anyway. So back to the lost kid at Ross. He didn't seem the least bit interested in finding his mother and once I found her, I understood why. His mother was many aisles away, chatting on her cell phone, looking at shoes and she didn't seem the least bit alarmed about losing her kid. I mentally punched her in her fat face and tied her tubes right there in the shoe aisle (I wish). So after returning the child who would have done better remaining lost in Ross, I finally made it to the toy aisle. Sure enough, no castle to be found. I almost left the store completely defeated, but then it occurred to me that my kid doesn't even need a castle tent. My kid has a great life as it is. My kid is fed dinner at home with a family that doesn't scour the town looking for Meth all day. Which by the way, I wouldn't doubt if there is a meth lab somewhere back by the Ross dressing rooms. It would certainly make sense, location wise I mean. But seriously, my kid has enough. She has a mom who panics if she is out of my sight in a store. That right there is gift enough for my daughter. So she'll turn three with two gifts and I'm sure she won't miss the castle tent a bit. Life is good for these kids and I'll take them down to Ross for a lesson about it if they ever doubt it.

Tuesday, February 21, 2012

Interview Fail

Once you've been a waitress for a few years, you feel fairly certain that you are now qualified to wait tables anywhere. You understand the basics of the job, and you are probably pretty speedy and very good at carrying large, loaded trays. These would appear to be important skills for someone applying for a server position. I learned the hard way that this is not exactly the case.

I had reached a point in my life where I thought it might be advantageous to work at a restaurant that was open 7 days a week and had a strange cult like following. So naturally I filled out an application at the O.G. That's Olive Garden for anyone who doesn't know.

While I rarely, if ever, eat at O.G. these days, I have to admit that the gal pals and I practically had a night of the week that was dedicated to the Layton Olive Garden. This was many, many years ago, but I still have a weakness for their salad and bread sticks, who doesn't? I honestly haven't eaten there in years. The last time my best friend and I ate there, my oldest daughter was two years old and she ended my meal early by throwing a massive temper tantrum under the table. Maybe I have a negative association with the O.G. because of that awful day.

Back in the day though, I loved it there! We would drink loads of the O.G. Sangria, get tipsy and then have no guilt at all about ordering the Tour of Italy plate which brings with it 3 or 4 days worth of calories. This sounds sort of disgusting to me today, but like I said, I was not above the O.G.! I loved it. I loved it so much that I even once went out on a date with our O.G. waiter (damn that Sangria buzz!). Thankfully, that experience put a stop to the weekly Olive Garden experience. My arteries are so grateful!

So with a lot of waitressing experience under my belt and a decent knowledge of how the Olive Garden machine works, I applied for a job at the brand new Olive Garden location. I got a call back for an interview and I just assumed I'd be collecting large tips there in no time. Easy as taking candy from a baby or money from a person in a food induced coma who is to full to move. It's all the same to me.

So I arrive at my "interview" and I'm ready to roll. Some dude, the manager I assume, sits me down in a booth and the hard hitting questions begin. It's all going well and I just know I've got this in the bag. My interviewer then explains what happens next. He tells me that I will need to take an Olive Garden class on the menu, after which I will be tested on the material I have learned. I will also take an Olive Garden wine class that will teach all about "wine pairings", for which I will also be tested. I started repeating this information again and again in my head. I pictured some wine master, fresh from the vineyards of Tuscany, teaching me the art of which five dollar bottle best compliments the endless bowl of pasta. Then I picture myself trying to explain these fine wine pairings to the diners of Ogden, Utah and I just about burst out laughing. I knew I must not do that though, so I tried as hard as I could to keep a straight face. I tried to push the humor away. You know when you're trying so hard not to laugh, that you sort of start making a wheezing sound and your chest appears to be convulsing? This horribly, obvious internal laughter could not be controlled. The more I tried to stop it, the worse it got. Then finally I burst out in uncontrollable laughter. It was just so funny to me and I couldn't get a hold of myself. I don't know if the interviewer knew what I was laughing about, but it's safe to say the comedy of the situation was lost on him. Once I regained control of myself, he told me he'd be in touch soon. Do I even need to type the last sentence of this story? I never got that promised phone call, and I knew the second that I walked out the door that it wasn't coming. I have to say that I learned a whole new shame that day. It's called, "I am not good enough to work at the Olive Garden shame." And it cuts like a knife.

Monday, February 20, 2012

Bad Date 2

This next one was awful too, only it was worse because it was a blind date. A "friend" really wanted to set me up with a relative of hers. She was wonderful and I thought if this certain someone is anything like her, I would be totally up for it. I would date the man version of her for sure! This was of course my first mistake. I'm smart enough to realize that DNA doesn't exactly work like that. But I was very optimistic! I can get along with almost anyone and it isn't tough for me to have a conversation with a complete stranger. What did I have to lose? I was in!

So this "friend" gave the mystery man my number and the whole thing was set into motion. He called shortly there after and just like my other bad date with Weirdo, the phone conversation went great. We talked for a while and I think we decided to go out the next night. I was so excited and I got dressed all cute and I was anxiously awaiting his arrival. He was a bit late, but no big deal, at least he made it. I opened the door and did my 10 second evaluation and knew instantly that I wanted no part of this. I went into blind date panic mode. If you've ever been on a bad one, this is totally familiar to you. If you've been lucky enough to never experience this, here's a run down of what happens in your head:

First you totally question your friendship with the person who set you up on this date. You wonder if she secretly hates you or she just thinks very little of you. You want desperately to pause everything and call your best friend for moral support and advice. You are thinking of ANY POSSIBLE way you can get out of this, even though it has just begun. You are waiting for Ashton Kutcher to jump out from behind bushes and yell "you just got Punk'd!". But he doesn't and you have to suck it up and deal.

I was stuck and I would make it work for the next few hours and be done after that. He opened the truck door for me and as I got in, I noticed something slightly disturbing.....OPEN CONTAINER ALERT! He had an open Budweiser tall boy in the cup holder. Upon further inspection I saw that there was an empty on the floor, and and four more on the floor ready for consumption. He started the truck and grabbed his main open beer and was now actively "drinking and driving". I'm no alcohol prude, but even I know this was illegal and way out of line.....especially for a first date. He was polite however, and he promptly offered the lady a beer. I declined my road beer and suddenly realized how bad of an idea this blind date had been. What the hell was I going to tell the worlds worst matchmaker when saw her next. There was no good outcome. Would I inform her that her relative is a raging alcoholic? Would I be able to tell her that I found her blood relative very unattractive. I put on my seat belt, really tight, and began to understand the pickle I was in. I knew immediately that homeboy was gonna get good and drunk on this date and that would be good and bad. The good part was that he probably wouldn't remember much about it, and I could use his drunkenness as a grade-A excuse for why we would never speak again! The bad part was that I was going to have to go for a ride with Mr. Open Container. He was driving just fine, but I knew we would have to make it quick. We went to the comedy club. He had another beer there and I politely declined going anywhere else after that. He drove me home, I pulled the good old, "Thanks, bye" routine and I ran like lightning to my door. So the date was over! I sent drunk ass on his way, because I was so overjoyed that he was no longer my problem. I was just glad to be rid of him. I never mentioned the blatant drinking and driving to the horrible matchmaker. I just evaded any and all conversations about the date. Things between she and I were awkward after that. But the upside of the story is that I totally learned my lesson.

I would NEVER EVER say okay to a blind date again! I don't know why I got into that situation in the first place. I never had any trouble finding guys to go out with, and I was practically an expert at finding weird ones on my own.

Friday, February 17, 2012

Men's Glitzy Bum Jeans

Last weekend we were overjoyed to get out of the house and go to the annual Boat Show at the South Towne Expo Center. The girls had a ball and Dave and I were able to drool and dream about all the newest and coolest boats. We will never actually buy a brand new fancy boat, but it's fun to look and make fictitious plans about the future. We dare to dream!

Our actual boat is small, old and it was very cheap! We bought it from a guy who lived down the street from us. He was the original owner and he was one of those guys that probably vacuums his garage. This boat is from 1987, but it looks new. The upholstery is perfect and you can just tell he took very good care of it. Every time we take it out, men with fancy boats will come up to Dave and comment on how well cared for it is. It's not big, but it's easy to manage. Our kids can spill a little juice on the seats or get some sand on the carpet and we don't have to freak out. I love this about it.

So we are at the boat show and I'm getting a real lesson in the actual price that you have to pay you to own a fancy, new boat. Boats that I see on the water and guess are about $40,000 are actually closer to $80,000! My jaw dropped. I also saw that a lot of these pricey boats had SOLD signs on them. Who is buying these expensive boats. Some of them were seriously over $100,000. WHO CAN AFFORD TO DROP THAT KIND OF CASH ON A BOAT? I mean, we live in Utah! It's not like you need to use this boat to get around. You can only use it for like 5 months out of the year. I'm not surrounded by the kind of men that can afford to take out a second mortgage on a boat, I just don't get it. So I start looking around and what do I see? Lots of grown men wearing glitzy bum jeans. Tons of white top stitching! More rhinestones than any grown man should wear! Lots of decorative bum pocket flaps. We even saw a real life Pauly D blow-out! I couldn't believe it! I try to picture a grown ass man walking into a store and seeking out a pair of glitzy bum jeans. I picture him grabbing a few options and walking proudly into the fitting rooms. He tries on the first pair. They feel nice! Then he turns around to see what's happening in the rear view. "Are these fancy enough, decorative enough?" he asks himself. "I wanted excessive white top stitching, but this looks almost off white. I can probably get over the color of the stitching because there are enough rhinestones to make up for it and the glitzy logo is HUGE! Yeah, these are the ones! And at $180 bucks they are practically a steal! Jackpot!"

I doubt that's how it really happens. It's most likely that the mans girlfriend or wife chooses these jeans for her man. He's busy taking care of the tanning and the body building. So I'm sure some woman tells glitzy bum jeans man that he needs to wear them. I hope so at least. I'm just trying to figure it out myself. But I tell ya what. Every time I see one of these guys, the allure of it is lost on me. This entire post is basically what happens in my head when I see a man dressed this way. I tried to take a picture of what I saw at the boat show, but Dave didn't think it was a good idea for me to walk around the boat show snapping photos of men's glitzy bum jeans. I see the truth of it. The point of the story is this. I wouldn't even want a top of the line Master Craft boat if it means my man has to walk around wearing glitzy bum jeans. No Thanks!

Thursday, February 16, 2012

A Good Question

Why do public restrooms not have any accommodations for kids? They have the baby changing table thing that's attached to the wall, then it's assumed that children won't need to use the bathrooms until they are at least 4 feet tall. I've got two kids, so we always have to go into the handicap stall. It's the only one that is big enough for the three of us. Hopefully it's big enough that my kids don't have to touch anything! But of course the toilet in that one is insanely tall, so I'm basically holding each kid while they pee. My five year old is tall, and she can hardly keep her balance on one of those. My two year old is in constant danger of falling in and never being heard from again. Then once they leave the handicap stall, another problem arises. The sinks are very high. The soap is completely out of reach and almost all bathrooms these days have those motion detection faucets that only turn on for 3 second. It's nearly impossible to hold a heavy kid up to the sink, get soap on their hands and also try keep the water on long enough for them to rinse it off. I have no clue how someone in a wheel chair is supposed to was their hands. Skipping the hand washing is not even an option, because kids can't help but touch gross stuff. Sasha once held onto the toilet seat to brace herself from falling in. She had no choice, but I still shudder to think about it. GROSS! I've always known it was a pain taking kids into public restrooms, but the other day I took my kids into the Babies'R'Us bathroom and I was thrilled at the sight of a kid height sink. We still had the normal tall toilet drama, but BOTH of my girls loved using this super low kid sink. The soap was even within reach. I couldn't believe it. It was such a simple idea and it made such a difference. Dare I say it was even fun for them. A store for pregnant women solved half of the problem. That was when I really started to wonder why all public bathrooms can't have one sink mounted really low, and maybe even one of those tiny kindergarten toilets. Wouldn't that be nice? Adults need to wash their hands, but kids REALLY need to wash their hands. They are touching so many yucky things all the time, especially in a public bathroom. So maybe one day when I no longer need these accommodations, I'll have some time to go on a kid-friendly bathroom crusade.

Wednesday, February 15, 2012

A Real Conundrum

My five year old says some hilarious things. I pick her up from school and just wait for the entertainment to begin. The other day we were driving and she asked a very important question.
"Mom, who should I marry? Michael Jackson, Justin Bieber, Sam or Ethan from pre-school?

First of all, I'm thrilled that at age five, she is not only thinking about her future, but she also seems to understand that variety is the spice of life. That being said, there are a few problems with her potential suitors. I was left to inform of a just a few of them.

"Well honey, we can probably rule out Michael Jackson. He's way to old for you. He's probably not interested and most importantly.....he's dead. Sam is your second cousin. He's quite a bit older than you and he's a very nice boy, but marrying cousins is really frowned upon. We've not seen or spoken to Ethan since the last day of pre-school, so who knows what's become of him. We should keep that option open for sure though. So that leaves Justin and I think Justin is a fantastic choice. He's too old for you, but if everything fall through with Selena Gomez and the opportunity presents itself, I'd absolutely encourage you to marry Justin."

Her only response was, "Okay mom! I always forget the Michael Jackson had passed away. Can we watch the Michael Jackson movie while we eat lunch?"

If she continues to accept my advice so easily, the high school years will be a breeze! And I can't wait to see my darling daughters wedding photo on the cover of US Weekly!

Tuesday, February 14, 2012

A Love Story at the Bar

I was told, as many women are, that "You'll never meet a nice man at the bar." "You'll never find anyone worthwhile at the bar." This might be true if you were going out to the bars once or twice a month. I, on the other hand, went out like 5 nights a week. I know what you're thinking, "Holy shit, this girl was a serious alcoholic in her single days!" Well I did enjoy getting a bit tipsy, but I LOVED going out on the town. I LOVED meeting new people. Every time you get all dressed up really cute and walk into the bar/club with your girlfriends, the possibilities are endless. You could run into anyone. You could meet Mr. Right, or many, many adorable Mr. Wrongs. It's a good time either way, but always an adventure.
Mondays we went to the Sports Page for drinks and darts. Tuesdays was the night to go to Beatniks if you were up for it. Wednesday was always awesome because it was spent at Kamakazi's. Me and my gal pals were such regulars that when we took our drinking abroad for a week in Jamaica, we sent the door guy, Norvell, a post card. That was expected. It wasn't the least bit strange. We missed him that week. We might have stayed in on Thursdays. I think that might have been a good t.v. show night. Friday nights, we were back at it again. We'd go to Brewski's, or the Beach Club. Saturday nights were spent at the Weber Club in O-t0wn or Club Axis in Salt Lake. We really did it right. We always dressed nice (boobs on display) and socialized. These were some great years. Thankfully, I got a nice hand-me-down fake ID that got me started early. The ID was terrible, but I was lucky enough to meet some really great, chatty, adorable door guys, who had no trouble looking the other way and letting me in.
One Thursday night back in 2000 I met my mom and sister for dinner at Roosters, and ran into my pal Ashley who was hostessing that night. She told me that we should head over to Brewski's when she got off work. Some friend of hers was moving out of state and there was a little going away get together at the bar. I'd never met the guy, so how could I refuse? So we went and I'm so glad we did. Ashley and I sat down at the table and ordered a picture of beer. Next thing I know a tall, gorgeous, viking like presence walked through the door. I had seen this vision of a man once before. I distinctly remembered walking past him on the Weber State campus during my short stint in college. This was at least two years earlier, but I still remembered his face. I looked at Ashley and said something like, "the big one is mine." He was there for the same going away party. It was his best friend that was moving away. He sat across from me and that's when I noticed he had come in with a girl. I was always up for a challenge, so it didn't matter to me. As far as I was concerned, he came in with her, but he was already leaving with me. Lucky for everyone involved, she was just a friend. She left shortly after and that is when I met Dave. He and I hit it off right away. He was wearing a T-shirt with the word "Maine" written across it. So I said, "Are you from Maine?" and he said, "duh". Then a second later he said, "Well, no. I'm actually from New York." I was hooked! He was a fox and we talked until the bar closed. My friend Heidi and her future husband Steve (whom she also met at the bar) were working at the bar that night and she basically had to kick us out. By the time he and I walked out the door, his friends had already gotten into their car. They rolled down the window and yelled, "Hey Stefanie, thanks for giving Dave a ride home!". So I had been right. He would leave with me. I will admit I was embarrassed standing next to him. We had been sitting down all night and I hadn't realized how tall he was. He was 6'5" and even with heels on, my 5'1" frame looked insanely short compared to him. I was very aware of the difference standing out on the sidewalk with him. He didn't seem to care about me looking like a lost toddler. He got in my car and started giving me direction to his house. As we drove I started to wonder where he was guiding me to. We were driving to what appeared to be the Weber State campus. That's when it dawned on me that this 21 year old man lived in the dorms. This was so funny to me! He had moved out of the dorms with a bunch of guys and he much preferred living by himself on campus. So he moved back into the dorms. Good enough explanation for me. We sat in my car and talked and kissed for a long time. It was getting late and I had to work in the morning, so he got out and went inside the building. As I drove home, I was pretty certain that I had just met the guy I would probably marry. I was right. (And we met at the bar!)

Monday, February 13, 2012

Candy Baby

I saw this photo on Pintrest. I think it's a little weird, but in Utah, this is totally normal. Your newborn baby is like the most fantastic prop that ever hit the universe. You can pose your little creature anyway you like! You're the boss after all. If the baby is sleeping, it's almost easy. Babies are weak and they don't put up much of a fight either. They can't talk, so you'll never have to hear their opinions about being your little photo prop. Now I challenge you to give birth and get your shit together fast enough to organize a photo shoot with your week old prop.

I'll be honest, this type of photo shoot didn't even occur to me when I had a newborn. I was tired, confused, sore and somewhat paranoid about the fragility of my child. My babies slept, ate, barfed, pooped and cried. When they were quite, I would do practical things like, catching up on laundry or maybe I'd take a shower. I never once thought, " Oh snap, I need to shove my newborn in a jar and fill it with candy!". It wasn't even a passing thought. I was terrified to take her to the Target portrait studio, because I knew she would scream bloody murder, or have a massive blow-out poop on the way there.

I think 50% of the population had the same newborn experience as I did. For others, the baby is just a brand new accessory to use however you see fit. I don't get it. The comments under this photo on Pintrest were all over the board and there were some VERY strong opinions. Some folks thought it was adorable and they wanted to enlarge the photo and display it above the fireplace, others were outraged. There were tons of comments that suggested that Child welfare services should be called in. The newborns parents were called into question. I was amazed at the attention this photo got. Everyday there are 20 new comments with very opposing view points. Like I said before, in Utah this is standard operating procedure, and I see it all the time. My daughters newborn picture were very simple. Like baby laying on a pretty blanket simple. I thought it made sense and honestly I was thrilled that I even achieved that. I paid my small fortune to the portrait studio and I am still really happy with the pictures. I just wanted photos that captured my baby in the baby stage. To me that was mission accomplished

I don't hate these weird baby photo sessions or the parents that orchestrate them. I totally get the idea of it. And honestly this baby in the candy jar is adorable, it's undeniable. A lot of these pictures turn out really cute. But my mind can't just see the photo, think it's cute and leave it at that. My mind wanders. I start thinking about how and why it happened in the first place. Who's idea was this? How long did it take? How many shots were taken? How much crying took place before this exact shot happened? It's when my head takes over that I begin to dislike the photo. The public response to the photo still amazes me though. I would never have guessed how polar opposite the responses would be. We are all very opinionated, especially on the Internet. I should know.

Friday, February 10, 2012

A Realistic Valentines Day Card

Dave and I love each other, but we are not hopeless romantics. We've had some great moments, but we just are not that cheese ball couple that goes over the top with all that. Ridiculous romantic gestures make me laugh more than swoon. If Dave came home on Valentine's Day and presented me with a heart shaped box of chocolates and a dozen long stem roses, I would smack him. I hate mystery chocolates and I'm not up for trying to figure out what horrible filling will be inside each one. Most of them are filled with rotten ass and it's just never been my thing. And the over priced flowers.......don't even get me started. I'm not a hospice nurse! I don't want to watch flowers creep slowly into certain death on my kitchen counter. I'd rather have a gift card to the fabric store so I can at least amuse myself with the lost money from our joint bank account. I am thankful that I'm married to a practical man who understands me so well. And guess what, he doesn't need any of that garbage to validate our relationship either. I do like a nice card, or better yet a letter that says something real and hopefully nice. Buying cards at the grocery store is such a pain in the ass when you have an aversion to cheese ball romance. I don't want to see a sunset, or satin and roses on a card. BARF!!!!!!! Where are the real cards? Where's the card that reads : Thanks for putting up with my bullshit and letting me get in on with you once a week! You're great and I still love you!

Wouldn't it be nice to have a real-life greeting card section at Hallmark? I'd love it because it's right up my ally. My card to my husband would read like this:

Thanks for letting me be the boss of you. Our marriage would be so hard if you needed to run the show. I love that you trust me enough to step aside and let me run your entire life. I love that you have grown to appreciate all of my reality shows. I know you didn't watch T.V. before we met, but you really do get invested in The Bachelor, and I know you care who gets voted off on Survivor. You did that for me and it means a lot to me. I appreciate that you will stand in line at the JoAnn's cut table for me while I shop for fabric. I don't have the patience to wait and you know it. I love that you've accepted Justin Bieber into your world without any hesitation. The children and I are grateful that you can sing along with us in the car without feeling ashamed. I also love that you never go hunting....I think that would annoy me. I don't need any dead animals staring me down while I tidy up the living room. Thanks for not having a lot of feelings. I love that aboutCheck Spelling you. You are a man, and you don't take it personal if I have to say some unpleasant things when I'm pissed off at you. You have a thick skin and your needs are as simple as a cave mans. I love this about you. I chose well! Happy Valentines Day!

Have you EVER found a card like this at Target? Me neither.

Thursday, February 9, 2012

Bad Dates

Back when I was young and single I went out...a lot. I met lots of weird dudes and went on some crazy bad dates. There are lots of stories from this part of my life, but this one guy in particular was really bad, and sort of entertaining in hind sight.

I met him at the bar of course, but he seemed really straight laced and I'd only seen him out on the town this one time. He was a couple years older than me and he was friends with some of my friends so I thought he would be a great guy to go out on a real date with. We chatted at the bar and exchanged numbers. He waited the standard 4 or 5 days to call, but he did call and we talked for a long time. We decided we would go out (on a real date) on the upcoming weekend. He suggested a place in SLC that he wanted to take me for dinner and he said I should think of something else fun for us to do. This sounded fun and totally different from the standard O-town date that consisted of watching a movie or drinking beer with the guys friends. He arrived at my apartment on time and away we went. He was really "artsy" which I guess I though was cool at the time, today "artsy" would be a giant RED FLAG (overly emotional), but back then it seemed interesting and cool. We went to this pottery place by the restaurant and painted pottery together. This sounds horribly cheesy, but it was really a good time. When we were ready to leave the pottery place, he sort of faded into the background. I took the initiative and paid for that portion of the date. It wasn't cheap, but it was fun and I didn't mind sharing the expense of the date. We went to some strange Thai place to eat and the food was okay. We were getting along really well and it seemed like the date was going really good. Then the waitress brought the bill and he made NO effort to touch it or even look at it. I wanted to wait it out and give him an opportunity to reach for it. I even went to the ladies room to make it obvious that it was time for him to pick it up, pay it and we would be on our way. I got back to the table and he put his jacket on and still didn't touch the ticket. This was SO AWKWARD! So what else could I do, I picked it up and paid it. He seemed very comfortable with all of this. He even casually said thank you and opened the door for me. He put his arm around me as we walked to the car. I was trying to be calm, but I was getting pissed off inside. I've spent some time with some shady dudes in my day, but this was crazy. I rarely, if ever paid for my own beers, so treating some older guy to a night on the town was really strange. I assume we are done for the night (I'm running out of money) but he just insists that we MUST check out this little obscure coffee shop (he called it a cafe and I wanted to smack his face, but I resisted). I don't know why, but I said okay to this. We went in, he ordered a drink for himself and paid for his own drink because I ordered nothing and even Weirdo must have known it would be rude to ask for mommy's wallet at that point. We sat down and some awful singer played guitar and annoyed me further. All indications told me that Weirdo was having a fabulous date night. He seemed very into the date. I felt like I was on a totally different planet than him. It was crazy strange. So he finishes his drink and we leave. For me, it was a long drive home, but like I said, this was a big success for Weirdo. Did I mention that I'm driving on this date (hello gas money). So he's playing some depressing Emo CD in my car that he just loves. I don't care for it, but I know this will all be over soon, so I allow his crap music to play. We get back to my apartment and I sort of think he believes he's going to come into my house and we are going make-out or something....I shut this down at the door. I go inside and I'm relieved it's over. I'm sure I told every girl I knew about Weirdo and they were all horrified. A few days passed and Weirdo CALLS ME. He asked if he could take me to a movie. He suggested this in a sweet way and it sounded like he was going to take me out this time. I said okay, for one reason...I couldn't wait to see what would happen next. Maybe the first date was a fluke. Maybe his debit card got stolen or his bank account was in over draft. Maybe the line at the ATM was crazy long and he wanted to show up on time. I had no idea, but I couldn't resist the urge to see what kind of bullshit Weirdo would pull next. This time he drove and we went to the movie theater. The movie was Fear and Loathing In Las Vegas. He walked up to the ticket booth and bought one ticket, then he politely scooted over to allow the lady to buy her own. I could not believe it! I am still seething over the $100 bucks I dropped on homeboy the weekend earlier. I bought a ticket, and I steered clear of the concessions stand. I just couldn't afford to treat Weirdo to a large popcorn and coke. I hated the movie almost as much as I hated my company. It finally ended and I didn't say a whole lot on the ride home. He parked in my parking lot and I hurried and said "thanks, see ya." and jumped out of the car and went into my apartment. He called a few days later and I said I wouldn't go out with him again. He had left his crap CD in my car and wanted to know if he could come by and get it. I said, "Of course you can, it's yours" (just like that money that used to be in my wallet was mine). As soon as I got off the phone I changed into my workout clothes and wrote Weirdo a note that I taped to my front door. Then I left. It read:

" Weirdo, I had to leave, but I left your CD in the giant green dumpster at the edge of the parking lot! Have fun digging for it you cheap ass! Never call me again and if see me out in public, turn around and walk the other way."

I've never seen or spoken to Weirdo since. I will keep his name a secret because I know for a fact that some people who will read this are Facebook friends with him. I will admit I briefly considered acquiring several cats and becoming a junior high school P.E. teacher after that experience. Then I went out on the town and met new guys that gave me hope again.

Wednesday, February 8, 2012

Good Show Round-up

I didn't watch a single episode of The Voice last year. I WILL WATCH EVERY SINGLE EPISODE OF THE VOICE this season. OMG I loved it! My husband can't deal with these singing shows, but I've been grooming my oldest daughter for this job for quite sometime. She is an excellent co-judge. We were initially put into a state of shock and awe by Christina Aguilera's boobs. This shock was well documented on my Facebook page and I'm pleased to say I was not alone. Christina hasn't had a baby recently, but good lord her milk has come in anyway and it looks painful. She's put on a few pounds over the last few years and it's not a big deal, but she needs to find a top that can accommodate her monster jugs! She really would look great if she wore clothes that fit her body. As long as she starts being nice to Adam, I won't hate on her, but she needs to put the tits away.

You won't believe this, but The Voice is a singing show, it's not actually about Christina's boobs. It's a great show. I'm loving the blind auditions. I want Adam Levine to get the best singers and ultimately win. I LOVE Adam. Maroon 5 is my favorite and I just want to learn to sing really well and join Adams team. He is a yum yum!!! Some girl named Lindsay, who has half of her head shaved, is my favorite so far. She is going to be on Big Tit's MaGhee's team, but I hope she does really well on the show anyway. I also loved that girl, Angel, that sang the Adele song and joined my dream boat Adam's team at the end of Monday nights episode. So far, I 'm very happy that I've given this show a shot on my t.v. roster!

Monday nights episode of the Bachelor was wonderful, but I will admit there was a scene that was too awkward to watch. I had no bad feelings towards Jamie, until she tried prove her devotion to Ben with an unwarranted make-out session. She's had no time with Ben and it is painfully obvious that they have ZERO chemistry, so I can't for the life of me figure out why she tried to make-out with him before the rose ceremony. Somebody has to go, Jamie! That's how the show works. You and Ben certainly will not be getting engaged in the coming weeks, and you know it, so why humiliate yourself right before you're eliminated? And do not under any circumstances try to give a grown man step by step directions about how you want the kiss to go. She was seriously stopping every other second to tell him, "mouth open, mouth closed, turn this way, mouth open again." I was so relieved when Ben shut that down. It was crazy! I'm sure Ben was wondering how horrible sex would be with a person like that. Poor Jamie is just clueless. It was hard to watch. But Dave and I really got a good belly laugh out of it, so thanks for the giggles Jamie. Sadly, you won't be missed. It's so weird to watch grown women try desperately to win a man that they have no real connection with. If there isn't chemistry right away, I'm afraid to say it isn't going to suddenly appear later. It's sad to think that some of them have really never felt that unexplainable spark before. But you know a lot of them haven't, or they'd be able to recogonize that it's missing between themselves and Ben. It's the hottest thing on the planet and when it's there, you are officially out of control. It takes over and the rest is history. You don't find it everyday, but when you do.... BOOM, it's amazing. But the clueless make for great entertainment and you know I can't wait for next weeks Belize episode. It should be amazing. I wouldn't miss it for the world.

Tuesday, February 7, 2012


What does a spider eat when it decides to live in your house? There is a small light brown spider that has taken up residence on my bathroom ceiling. It moves around every now and again, but loves to hang out above the light fixture in that nook where the ceiling meets the wall. Normally I would have killed it at first sight, but I couldn't reach it if I tried. I asked Dave to kill it, but we had just watched "Charlotte's Web" (the newer, Dakota Fanning version) with the girls the day before I saw the spider, so he refused to kill it. Imagine the number of house spiders, who live today, only because their home owners saw that movie. Now, I don't for a second believe that this little spider is going to spin a web with a word written in it and I doubt Dave does either. I do however, believe that if I could hear it, the tiny spider would speak in Julia Roberts voice. I would feel awful to kill a spider that might sound like a celebrity that famously portrayed a hooker in "Pretty Woman".
So it's been weeks since I first spotted the spider and it's still moving a few feet to the left or right everyday. It's alive and I don't know what it eats! I've gotten so used to the spider now that it isn't even scary to me anymore. I've really reached the point where I'm concerned about her well being (she must be a female if she is voiced by Julia Roberts). I hope she's getting enough to eat and drink. We have no crumbs of any kind on the bathroom ceiling, so I'm worried. If she could live off of brown hair, then she's got a long life ahead of her. There is an alarming amount of hair on the floor in the bathroom, despite the fact that I try very hard not to brush my hair in there. I've moved my favorite hair brush into my salon just to remove the temptation to brush. (yes, I do have a hair salon in my house. It's on the main floor where where a regular person would have their office. An office is a place you work in, and I work with hair, so there you go. A hair salon right off the entry way. I thought it was a tacky choice at first, but the basement isn't finished and it seemed like the best available spot for a salon. I actually love it now. I do my hair, and my kids hair in there every single day. I can't figure out how other people function without a hair salon on the main floor of their house. It might be something for everyone to consider in a future home. Endlessly useful really.) But back to the point. There are no flies here and our spider has no web at all, so what does a house spider eat? I keep thinking I'll wake up in the morning and she'll be gone for good, looking for an exit to the world outside. But no, she continues to live on the ceiling. I hope she sticks around, because she is the worlds most low maintenance pet.

Monday, February 6, 2012

Treadmill Time

I have not been to a real gym for a workout in roughly 5 and a half years. I know this, because my first child is that age and my jogger stroller became my number one piece of workout equipment after she was born. I used to go to the gym all the time. It used to be a big part of my life. My mom worked as an aerobics instructor at the Ogden Athletic Club when I was a kid, so I really grew up there. I recall learning to tie my shoes at the gym. Just being there all the time was a good way to learn the value of fitness. I got to take loads of tennis lessons there, and I would swim there all summer long.

When I was in high school, I loved going to the gym for the "meat market" aspect of it. Lot's of good looking muscle boys to be admired and flirted with. I knew what time of the evening was ideal for man watching. "Red Hat" shows up around 5:00, "Roid Rage" usually starts his workout at 5:30 and if I'm lucky, "The Fireman" will show up shortly there after. Maybe the dream boat known only as "Adidas" would make an appearance, maybe not. I could stay on that stair-master for nearly an hour with this cast of attractive characters to watch. (their real names are insignificant and I never bothered to learn them. I was boy crazy for so many years that it would have been impossible to remember all their real names. Besides, my cast of characters were all over town. There was "Chevron boy", "White Teeth", "Drakar Noir", "Checkered Snowboard", "Snapple boy" and lots of "Car Wash Boys". Even my poor future husband was temporarily known to me only as "The dude eatin' chicken") People watching is a great pass time while you're getting fit.

Eventually, I had to grow up (work more) and workout in the morning at a different gym. I've gone through all the different class phases. Step aerobics, body combat, body pump, kick name it and I've loved it for a little while. I would love it still if I had a membership! But we are too cheap for that. Dave is a germaphobe (no gym daycare allowed) and I realize that if I want to be in good shape, I have to make it happen on my own. This means, hitting the pavement with a jogger stroller, loaded down with 80 lbs. worth of kids (excellent workout), Dvd workouts or my trusty treadmill.

There are some huge advantages to working out at home. It's convenient for sure, and I can look HORRIBLE and there's no one here to judge. I love Jillian Michael's 30 Day Shred. It's a quick, yet effective workout DVD with three different workouts on it. I do that a few times a week and I love it. This time of year, the other days are treadmill days.

I know what you're thinking. "But you're so cheap! I can't believe you even own a treadmill!" I bought it at Costco and it's AMAZING. Very sturdy and it can also be used as an amazing dust collector when I'm not running on it! It's a good piece of machinery, even though I may ignore it for weeks at a time. When I need it, it's there for me. I bust out the I-pod and it's on like Donkey Kong!

I have reached a point in my life where I CAN'T use a public treadmill. This is not me being a spoiled brat, this is me admitting that I look like a freak show when I run. Dave and a few others have commented that run like that liquid, cop dude from Terminator 2. I would agree. It's not a good look at all. But that's just the tip of the freak show ice berg. I get those jams playing on the i-pod and I can't help myself, I gotta dance (while running). Dance running should only be done in the privacy of your own home. Trust me on this one. I'm sure I look like I have a severe case of tourrettes syndrome when this is happening. Depending on the song, I might even appear to be skipping rather than running. It's so bad, but I can't help myself! If I had been born 6 years earlier, I'm sure I would have been a regular on Mtv's "The Grind" (the nineties, skanky version of Solid Gold), with host Eric Nies. (the pretty boy from the first season of The Real World). Who knows, I may have ended up married to Eric! I do have a soft spot for washed up, D-list, reality stars....

But back to my problem. Me, music, running and the public don't mix! I'm certain that dance-running burns way more calories than running alone. And I can't stop myself from doing it, so I will continue to do it, even though I look idiotic doing it. But I will spare the public the horror of watching it, and do my treadmill time in the privacy of my own home. To all those with gym memberships, you are welcome.

Friday, February 3, 2012

If this photo doesn't make you laugh, there might be something wrong with you.


If you've never shopped at the Ogden, Utah Ross, you've never really experienced O-town. It's a unique treat. Ross, for anyone who doesn't know, is a deep discount "department store". It's T.J. Maxx on ghetto steroids. It's a fun place to bargain hunt because there are so many places for your prey to hide. Only expert hunters will appreciate the challenge posed by the ghetto Ross. Maybe the dress you're looking for will be on your correct size rack of the dress section, or maybe it will be wadded up by the picture frames. Maybe the size 6 glitter heels you've wanted are on the size 6 shoe rack, or maybe they are hiding, totally camouflaged on the floor by the purses. You just never know, and that's the fun of it. It's not like shooting fish in a barrel at an organized store. At Ross, you've got to want it real bad. To some, this might sound awful, but to me it's great, because there is crazy variety and it really is inexpensive. I have to admit that I almost always find what I need there. My favorite old maternity jeans where found on a rack of trashy, teen jeans. They really are maternity jeans (they say so on the tag), and after examining the other shoppers in the store, I'd say these were put on the trashy teen rack on purpose. Where else in the world are you going to find maternity jeans that were made to catch the eye of a trendy teen mom? Random!

The Ross of O-town seems more secure than a prison. From the moment you walk in, they want you to know that you are not allowed to steal stuff. You walk through those weird metal detector things to go in and out of the store. Right by the front door, there are usually not one, but TWO men wearing vests that say something obscure like, "loss prevention specialist" or something dumb like that. These guys look like they are ready to give you a beat down if you try to remove a pair of knock-off sunglasses from the store. Their orange vests should have the words, "Security Thug, I'm watchin' you" written on them instead. Almost every piece of cheap clothing has an anti-theft tag on it. The door alarms will go ape shit if you walk through with one of those attached to your stuff. I get a kick out of their attention to theft detail. The stuff inside the building is mediocre at best. I can't even imagine that the idiots of Ogden would be willing to be prosecuted for taking ANY of it. The risk is just to high and really not worth the reward. My other question, is why would they even care if you took something? How on earth would anyone ever notice if something was missing. It's like taking a newspaper out of a hoarders house. Who would even notice it was gone? No one would miss it. Ross is so paranoid about it, that at one point the shopping carts had super tall poles attached to them so that you couldn't just fill your cart with shit and make a break for the door. Your "cart pole" would hit the top the door, stopping you cold, destroying all your chances at the haul of a lifetime.

It really makes me wonder how a really nice store functions without the obvious security detail that Ross employs. My mother has told me that Nordstrom has a lot of security people walking through the store, but Nordstrom is clever enough to have them dressed like civilian shoppers. But nordstroms doesn't have those obvious metal detector sort of devices at the doors. I have purchased items there before and they've accidentally left those anti- theft tags on the clothes and there wasn't so much as a beep when I left the store. I wish there would have been a beep, because those tags are impossible to remove from your purchase once you get home, so you're forced to drive back down there to get them taken off. But who am I kidding? I am just a cheap skate and I'm lucky that I don't mind the Ross experience. If I want to get fancy and go the classy route, I head on over to T.J. Maxx. The truth is, I don't really think it matters where you buy your clothes. When it comes down to it. If you're doing it right at all, it will be the woman wearing the outfit that really gets noticed, not the clothes.

Thursday, February 2, 2012

Doin' the Dishes

I am able to keep a very tidy house.......when I live alone that is. Today, I share a home with a man and two kids. Let me rephrase that, I share a home with Cuppy MaGhee and the piglets.

Cuppy is a man who loves to get a new cup every time he's thirsty. His dinner water glass, couldn't possibly morph into his T.V. time Kool-aid glass. That would be gross. It had water in it before. It's obviously totally dirty now. I find this annoying because I'm the one who's always gathering the glasses from all over the house and washing them. In the keg party of pay for one cup and one cup is all you shall get. Keep an eye on it, you will need it later.
About a week ago, I discovered a very scary truth. I was probably in a screaming kids induced bad mood, so Dave decided to help out with the dinner dishes. Earning points you know. He added a few items to the dish washer and decided it was full enough to start it. He reached under the kitchen sink and found an Electrasol tab and unwrapped it. Then he looked a little confused. He opened the little detergent lid in the dishwasher and he looked over at me and said, "This is where the soap goes, right?". I said yes and made a joke like, "have you never started the dishwasher before?" And he said, "Well, not at the new house." SHUT THE FRONT DOOR DAVE! WE HAVE LIVED HERE FOR TWO YEARS!!!! It was just what I had suspected all along. It seemed like I was doing all the dishes up in here and I was right. It's like you step through my front door (no Delorian or flex capacitor needed) and you're transported to 1950, except I'm quite a bit more mouthy than June Cleaver and my jeans are from Wet Seal.

My kids are pretty standard when it comes to mess making. If they go upstairs and entertain themselves, I can get the main floor looking really nice. All the toys get put away, all the laundry gets folded and put away. The kitchen counters get cleared off and the sink will be dish free. I'll be feeling like a real success, until I go upstairs. The kids have destroyed the playroom, there are a million legos or mega-blocks all over the stairs and there are ALWAYS random, discarded socks on the floor. Keep your socks on all day for one freaking day already. It is so easy to do, yet impossible for my kids. ( My 5 year old can't even keep her clothes on all day. How do I know we've been home longer than 20 minutes ? Because Sasha suddenly appears in the kitchen wearing nothing but a princess evening gown with plastic clip-clop heels. Who knows where the hell her abandoned school clothes are?) So I don't even bother with the fresh upstairs mess at that point because by now it's probably time to make dinner. So I cook something in the kitchen while the kids destroy my previously tidy living room. The family eats dinner and the kitchen is totally wrecked, yet again. My kids could create crumbs out of thin air. Apple slices make crumbs, yogurt makes crumbs. I can't make heads or tails of it. It's an endless cycle. There is no time to enjoy the clean house before it's a mess again. I am chasing the end of the clean house rainbow everyday. I don't think that pot of gold will ever be mine. It can't be mine, because it belongs to my sister. If a cleaner, more organized home exists, I can assure you it's a model home with no residents. Where the hell is that strand of my DNA? (in the bottom of the toy box probably, right next to Barbie's long lost Prom shoe)

Wednesday, February 1, 2012

The Bachelor Drama

Let me start by saying that Ben is a surprisingly good bachelor. He's not the hottest guy on the planet but he is more aware of what's going on than the traditional stupid bachelor. He seems to have that extra sense that most men don't have. Ben thinks about his next move more than most men do. And I love that he almost never says the word "journey". I despise that word and this show tends to bring that word up quite a bit. In a nutshell, I like Ben. You can tell he's a pretty good guy and he's looking for more than a nice rack. It's refreshing.

The villain is now obviously Courtney. At first sight, I thought that she was really pretty. She sort of looks like she could be Selena Gomez's older sister. I love Selena Gomez (I have two young daughters and Selena makes clean music that makes me dance), so that made me think that Courtney might be alright. WRONG! Once she started speaking, it all went to hell in a handbag for me. She is always doing weird shit with her face, almost like her lips are numb or she has some weird nervous tick where her mouth just moves out of control. She also has that "I'm a model, so I'm way better than everyone else attitude". That alone is obnoxious, add to that her strange puckered mouth and her head jerking and it's just too much. Ben is still in the honeymoon phase of infatuation with her, so I don't think he notices these things about her. A few months of her twitching would probably start to annoy him. Dave can't handle it at all. It drives him crazy and every time she does it, he looks over at me and asks me to imitate her. He gets a kick out of my Courtney impression.

Now it's time to address the elephant in the room.... Courtneys blatant attempts to go skinny dipping with Ben. I love that he shut her down on the group date. He KNEW that going there would be trouble and most certainly it would ruffle a lot of the other girls feathers. I don't picture Brad Womack having that same understanding of the potential damage it could cause. So Ben shuts her down on the group date. I loved it. I love when Ben swears in frustration at the camera. It's the best part of the show, no doubt. So then he gets stuck taking Elyse (Jersey Shore) out on the yacht for her one on one date. It goes sour really quick and he gives her the boot. He heads back to his hotel room and what do you know, villain Courtney is waiting for him in her robe, with two wine glasses. CHEESY! She works her magic and gets into Ben's room. The stupid shit she says once she's in there is to dumb to repeat. I threw up in mouth just hearing her say it the first time. So, somehow or another, they end up out on the beach and she convinces him it's time to skinny dip in Puerto Rico. She gets naked and away they go. I don't hate on Ben for going along with this. He is, after all, a single horny dude and what does he stand to lose by giving it a go? Maybe he got a handy out of it, who knows. He later says something cryptic about how they shared an intimate moment. He played it well, because he got some sexy time with a lady he likes and the other women were none the wiser. He's single. It was gross to watch, but I'm not a player hater. Well played Ben.

So onto the rose ceremony. I won't say who went home cause I've already forgotten her name, (the redhead he likes makin' out with) but I will say I was surprised she got the boot. She seemed to take the bad news well. She walked out to the exit vehicle and behaved like the classy, put together lady that she is. They say their goodbyes and there aren't any tears. She holds it together and gets in the car for her exit interview. So the second she gets in the car, she loses it big time, crying like a fool. My theory is that the camera man and the driver are wearing gas masks because the vehicle is clearly being pumped full of tear gas. That is the only explanation for the sob fest that begins in that car. And I would guess that she is being questioned like this, "So Sally, Ben hates you and he thinks you're ugly and unlovable. Any reaction to that? By the way Sally, both of your cats got hit by a car right before the rose ceremony. We didn't want to tell you until now. You do realize that this was your last chance for romance and this means you'll die childless and alone Sally. How does that make you feel? Ben said he would have proposed to you if you would have just touched his weiner a little on your date. You blew it big time Sally, any thoughts? By the way honey, I should warn you that your make-up is going to look awful in High Definition and this camera will add ten pounds, minimum. Go ahead and cry Sally. Let it all out."