Smell it!

Yesterday I was surprised at work by Chuckles accompanied by my big sis and my two nephews for lunch! Totally made my day. We went to a nearby brewery where we proceeded to laugh it up at Matthew’s silly faces and grunts. Seriously, those kids never ever cry – it’s so unfair because that can only mean that one day when I have kids they will be the spawn of Beelzebub, but that’s another story for another day.

Jared, who’s four, was eating extremely slowly, even slower than me, which, I assure you, is no small feat. Considering I did have to get back to work I tried to make it into a game with him in an attempt to speed it up. I informed him that I was totally going to finish eating before him to which he scoffed, “Yeah, right, you have like waaaayyy more food on your plate.” Since he didn’t fall for that one…I tried another tactic:

Me: “My bites are sooooo much bigger than yours.”

Jared: “Yeah? Well, I can take super tiny bites. So there!”

He did not fall for any of my tricks what he did fall for though was his mom saying he wouldn’t get any Oreos if he didn’t hurry up and eat his sandwich. Note to self: Bribery always works.

On the way home I sat between the two car seats thereby giving me the perfect position to have a serious conversation with Jared. He had his mitten with him and demanded that I smell the inside of it:

Jared: “Smell it!”

Me: “No, YOU smell it!”

Jared: “No, YOU!”

Me: “YOU!” (I often revert to childish behavior when I am around Jared, we could go on forever like this.)

To my surprise Jared gave in quickly and sniffed the inside of his mitten and announced to the whole car, “It smells GREAT!”

Me: “I have a really hard time believing that…”

Jared: “It does. Smell it. NOW. Smell it. Do it.”

Well, I can’t stand up to that kind of peer pressure so I had to smell it. After I gave it a quick sniff Jared quite eagerly inquired, “Do you like it?” Strange kid I know, but I have to admit it wasn’t so bad.

Are your minds as dirty as mine is?

Thankfully, the snow if finally melting around here and I am able to get around with out getting stuck any time I stray from the main roads. Unfortunately, this snow has meant that I have had to dress “practically” ever since I got back from vacation.

I am not very good at this whole “practical” thing. For example, two years ago I flew to Boston to visit my best friend and celebrate St. Patrick’s day in true Boston fashion and all I brought with me footwear wise was two pairs of high heels and NO socks and it was blizzard conditions when I flew in. Of course, I solved this by buying festive pair of socks with shamrocks to wear with my heels.

What I’m getting at is that I have been dying to wear something other than my stupid tennis shoes (I don’t own appropriate snow boots) and I had finally had it on Christmas Eve. I informed Chuckles that I wasn’t going to let this God. Damn. weather control my life and I was going to wear my cute new booties on Christmas.

Aren’t they cute?! No matter because Chuckles said that he would not spend Christmas with me if I insisted on being a fool and trying my best to break a leg. Also, he said I would have to go to my parents by myself and when they asked where he was I would have to inform them that he refused to join me since I insisted on wearing heels then who would be the FOOL?! I would. Of course, it became a moot point when we woke up to even more snow Christmas morning. I have yet to wear my darling new shoes. Tragic, I know.

The other tragedy was that I got a new game for my birthday called Dirty Minds (I have no idea why anybody would think of me when they see a game called Dirty Minds) and at first I had decided to bring it over for Christmas to test it out…and then I opened it and saw some example questions. Here’s one so you get an idea of what it is. You get three clues and the answer is always clean:

You stick your poles in me.

You tie me down to get me up.

I get wet before you do.

Answer: TENT

After reading some of these I decided I might not be comfortable playing this with my mom and dad. But I can play with you guys!! So here are some for you all to guess what the answer is

I’m a four letter word.

I’m a name for a woman

I end in u-n-t.

If you think the answer is the C-word then you are a dirty dirty birdie.

I get laid in an alley.

I often end up in the middle of your split.

When you slip your fingers in me, I’m ready to roll.

Does anybody have any guesses?

Were you worried?

I’m back internets!! We have so much catching up to do. I promise I have a good excuse for my absence and I apologize if your uncontrollable sobbing is annoying those around you – it can stop now because I’m back! I was absent last week for a much needed vacay.

Chuckles and I went down to the Oregon coast, which was just lovely, freezing, but lovely. We pretty much had the town to ourselves…and we ate ourselves into a food coma. We also watched the Seattle news every day keeping our fingers crossed that we were missing the worst of it. Unfortunately, on the day we were supposed to leave we woke up to three inches of snow on the beach. ON THE BEACH. When does that ever happen?!

As we were checking out another guest came in the inn and informed us that if we were intending to use 101 on our way out of town not to bother because they had closed it. Well, 101 just happens to be the only road out of town, so, YES, we were planning on taking it. Just for shits and giggles we decided to drive into town and see if we could wait it out…but we couldn’t really make it out of the parking lot. So we turned around and waited an hour and tried again.

We only had to make it eight miles to Seaside where we could get chains and it would be easy going from there…except Seaside was sold out of chains. No worries though, we made it home without incident; that is if you don’t count the crazy lady at Les Schwab in Seaside screaming at anybody who listen, “I HAVE TO OPEN A STORE IN CANNON BEACH! I HAVE LIVED HERE 30 YEARS AND THIS HAS NEVER HAPPENED BEFORE! I CAN’T AFFORD NEW TIRES! DOES IT LOOK LIKE I’M MADE OF MONEY?!” Yep, crazy.

Anyway, that is why I have been absent from the blogging world, that and last weekend I was busy being the champion of my fantasy football league. That’s right – CHAMPION.

Oh, plus all this God. Damn. Snow has me leaving the house as little as possible and with another snow storm coming tonight I doubt I’ll be in the office any time soon and when I’m stuck at home instead of blogging I read vampire books. It’s not that you guys aren’t entertaining, you are, it’s just that, well, you aren’t vampires…at least not to my knowledge.

Oh, and thanks for all the birthday wishes! My birthday was fine despite being stuck in the house for the most part. I did yell at Chuckles till he agreed to drive me to my parents for dinner and then when he got mad at me I told him that was forbidden on my birthday. I think he really enjoyed it.

Join in my pity party

I came to a realization yesterday – I hate my birthday. To be more exact I hate the actual date, I would love my birthday if it was on any other day. My birthday is four days before Christmas and it doesn’t help that my brother’s is the day after Christmas.

In the past I have always swore up and down that it in no way bothered me that I had a birthday so close to Christmas, but the fact of the matter is I was in deep denial.

Even on my 21st birthday I claimed not to be upset about it despite the fact that instead of spending it getting drunk with a gaggle of my friends I was stuck taking a physical chemistry final at 7 o’crotch on the Friday night of finals week and all but two of my friends had all gone home for the holidays. Although, I did manage to thoroughly embarrass myself at my family dinner the next night, but that’s a story for another time.

I can literally count on one hand the number of enjoyable birthdays I’ve had since I’ve grown up and stopped asking for dolls every year. The problem is everybody always has plans or are just too busy to worship me for a night.

I wouldn’t mind so much if I didn’t absolutely LOVE my birthday! I love being the center of attention and getting free drinks and really any excuse to get my groove on. Is that so wrong?

This year my best friend will still be in bean town and I have a horrible feeling that everybody else already has plans. I’m tempted to stay home and pout, but instead I think I’ll man up and force my sister to watch every Christmas movie ever made with me (I haven’t told her of this plan yet, but the way I see it is it’s my birthday and people have to do what I tell them). Plus maybe that’s a better idea than making a spectacle of myself on the dance floor anyways. Meanwhile I’m buying myself a purty new dress to cheer me up.

The More You Know

I have a message for the snotty girl in my accounting class who thinks she’s all that. Don’t ever EVER wear boots over baggy jeans. If you are going to wear boots over jeans they have to be SKINNY. Also, while we’re on the subject, they should be knee high boots not tight mid calf boots. If you insist on wearing mid calf boots over your jeans that at least make them slouchy boots. I would also like to request that when you walk by me to go get your nasty soup that makes the entire room stink that you don’t give me that up and down stare like I’m the freak show here. I will have you know that my lace tights are quite stylish and I have gotten many compliments on them. Oh, and just one last thing, stop wearing scrunchies.

I am a Scrabble God! Bow down.

I am on a roll! Yesterday Chuckles told me that it is not polite to talk about how smart I am, but I figure this is my blog and I can do whatever the hell I want on it and today I want to talk about how smart I am. If you don’t like it you can suck it! HA!

I bring this up because I came to the realization yesterday that I am unbeatable at Scrabble. Unbeatable. In other words, I am a Scrabble God. Chuckles kindly pointed out that he has defeated me before, but I have honed my skills and, well, I’ve just gotten so good that I almost feel bad for my opponents. The key word there is almost. I continue to be a horrible winner and gloat.

Not only am I kicking ass at Scrabble, but I am also kicking butt on my marketing project. Remember how I was being a whiny bitch a couple months back because I had this long project and I was all nervous about my group? Of course you remember. Silly me. Well, I won’t go into to many details about the project because I don’t want to bore you to death, but, in the end, the only thing that matters is who has the highest stock price. At this point nobody can come close to catching us. Do you see now how I’m a genius? Well, that and I managed to get a cool group. Also, that guy that was driving me NUTSO is doing horribly. It makes me laugh. Who knew class could actually be fun?

Also, my fantasy football team made a miraculous comeback thanks to Matt Cassel and Steve Slaton and I’m in the playoffs! YAY! I just have to beat my little bro this weekend to stay in. Keep your fingers crossed!

Thanksgiving

I’m a bit late with my Thanksgiving post, but I was really busy yesterday. Really I was just busy stressing out as opposed to actually crossing anything off my to do list, but what’s new?! Haha, I’m a stressball. Yay! Fun times.

Anyway, I had a rather uneventful Thanksgiving, which was quite relaxing. It was just the usual: sitting around watching the Seahawks lose, drinking wine, laughing at my nephews, eating a lot, and regretting not wearing a more forgiving dress.

It was a nice change from the previous Thanksgiving, which was fun – don’t get me wrong! There was just a slight problem with the dessert. A week prior to Thanksgiving my mom had to have surgery on her back, surgery that meant that for the next couple months or so she wasn’t allowed to move her neck. Meaning my dad, big sis, and I were in charge of the Thanksgiving feast. My dad was in charge of the turkey and stuffing and my sister and I did the sides and we each made a dessert.

Oh, and did I mention my parents had just finished remodeling their kitchen? With a new fancy oven? Well, they did. (Ultimately, this will be a lame story because it takes too long to explain the back story, but I won’t let that stop me!)

Soooo, my sis made a chocolate pie and I made an apple crostata that according to the recipe HAD to be served right out of the oven. So my plan was to put it in the oven after dinner and it being ready would surely coincide with everybody being ready to eat dessert. Of course, my plans did not incorporate a three year old boy who wanted his chocolate pie RIGHT NOW DAMNIT! As a result, my sister and I would alternate looking into the oven to see if the crostata was ready.

Unfortunately, the fancy new oven had this weird touch screen thing and the oven light was stubborn and you had to press really hard on it AND it was right next to the oven cleaner button. So, someone, I won’t name names, but I will tell you that her initials are E.M. and she is quite fond of bossing me around and has an unnatural fear of E.T., pressed the oven cleaner button. This caused the door to self lock and the temperature of the oven to skyrocket. We did manage to get the crostata out of the oven before it burnt, but, unfortunately, it tasted a lot like what I imagine chemicals taste like. Yummy.

This year I just brought the salad (much easier) and I made sure not to tell anyone that the impatient four year old boy ate half of a walnut and then spit it out in the salad proclaiming it “yucky” until after everybody had eaten their share.