The Distant Future. The Year 2000.

I was commanded by Sister to write a new blog, so here it is....I cannot guarantee that it will be exciting or worth-reading...boy, I sure just encouraged you to want to continue reading didn't I?!

First let me begin by congratulating Annette and Mike on the arrival of their little one. I am VERY happy that he finally made an appearance, because frankly, I was starting to worry about poor Annette's mental state. I'd also like it noted that I not only picked the correct gender for said baby, but I also picked the correct date of his birth. That's right, losers, I was awesome and you were ALL lame. See. This is what happens when you Google "which day of the week are most babies born on" and you pick that day. There's nothing Google can't do. I'm convinced that Google is close to creating the cure for cancer, ending the violence in Darfur AND eventually world peace....that's a lot for a search engine, but I have faith.

Speaking of faith, I've been asking the Wax Baby Jesus for a few things--the WBJ is this little cast iron figurine I picked up when I was in Prague last spring...sigh....and whenever I need a little help from the Universe I ask him for things. Anyway, he didn't let me down and I'm feeling happier and more at ease than I have in the last few months. Things are brighter and sunnier...just the way I like them....it's like a Bob Marley song really. I believe he may also take requests, so if anybody needs anything, I'd be happy to pass the request on to the WBJ.

I can't believe that it's May already. 2009 seems to be moving at a break-neck speed. I know I can't be the only one that feels that way. Although, I'm ready for some warmer weather....NOT the 900 degrees I know it's about to become, because Spring does not exist in Logan anymore...but a sunny 70 degrees would be lovely.

I still can't stop eating Cinnamon Toast Eggos and drinking Peach Iced Tea...only Snapple has discontinued their PIT, so now I've moved onto Lipton. I don't know why, but I can't help myself. It's like food crack to me!

Well, friends, I'm going to go. Gavin and I are about to play a game where I chase him around the house until I eventually end up being the "rotten egg" and then he gloats about being the winner and I get aggravated and tell him I'm not going to play with him anymore if he's going to be like that and then he cries because I've somehow hurt his feelings. So, really, just a typical night at our house! Lillith and Annette, look what you have to look forward to!!

Four More...

First--Annette, I REALLY hope that Alien Fetus Baby has made an appearance and that is the reason why you're incommunicado and NOT because you've had some sort of pre-birth psychotic break and you're lying in a darkened room listening to The Smiths and eating Totino's Pizzas.

Second--Congratulations, Lillith!!! I'm so happy for you! I'm always happy to welcome another poor sap into the motherhood club. You poor thing...you have no idea what you've gotten yourself into...and willingly!! Also, I don't think you should name them Edward or Bella. I think you must embrace the Mormon tradition so beautifully captured in Breaking Dawn and combine the names of your loved ones to come up with new "names"....for example, you could combine Bear with Kevin and name your son Bearvin or combine Annette and me for Amatte....just think of the beautiful possibilities, Lillith!!

Third--I downloaded Pink's Funhouse album off iTunes. Bad. I. Dea. About halfway through a listen I had to fast forward to the next playlist on my iPod to avoid sobbing. Definitely the wrong head space.

Fourth--the other day I was asking Gavin to get me things (it's one of the perks of having a kid who's old enough to understand instructions...just wait Lillith and Annette...bliss), well I guess I had asked him to do too many things for me because he looked at me and said, "Mom. I will NOT do your bidding." I laughed and laughed and laughed and laughed. He's just so unbearably funny!

....and 4

4. Of course I will still love you and be your friend, Briskey! It's going to take a lot more than a fight about a Scottish woman's eyebrows to tear you and me apart! And just for the record, I never said that the whole thing with Susan Boyle wasn't overrated...and Sister, how can you NOT know who Susan Boyle is?!! You have the capabilities to watch YouTube on your iTouch for pete's sake!!

1, 2, 3

Just a few things:

1. Lillith, my suggestion for the Austen book to start with is Persuasion. It's just such a beautiful story, it's a pretty easy read (sometimes Austen stories can seem a bit long-winded) and then when you get finished with it watch the BBC version with Amanda Root and Ciaran Hines...love, love, love it!

2. I'm creeped out by the Quizno commercial. You know the one with the oven talking like HAL from 2001: A Space Odyssey. It creeps me out that he tells the Quizno Sandwich Guy to "put it in me." Heebs. Heebs. And Heebs.

3. The Drowsy Chaperone is performing in the theatre tonight and tomorrow. I met their company director at dinner tonight and it turns out that he's friends with Brooklynn Pulver, who will forever be Brooke or Tank Top Girl. It was a further example that the world of theatre is a very small place.

In defense of Susan Boyle

Allow me to share my views on Susan Boyle. Here we go.

Ms. Boyle, or "man brows" as Briskey has so lovingly nicknamed her, was probably a shy and socially awkward girl. She was probably the D.U.F.F. in her group of friends, and while her friends were meeting boys, going on dates and getting married, she was at home, with her cat, singing in the church choir and caring for her ailing mother. She's probably never had a man tell her she's beautiful. She probably doesn't know what if feels like to not be rejected. Until now.

Sure. Her voice may not be the greatest and when her 15 minutes are up, she'll probably go back to her cat and singing in the church choir, but for this one shining moment in her life she finally knows what it feels like to not be laughed at or made fun of, and who would begrudge someone that feeling?

So, you'll have to excuse me, friends, if I find a little joy in Ms. Boyle and the fact that this dowdy, middle-aged Scottish woman's dreams are coming true.

Snow, Slayer, Stress & Sad

So, when I said I'd like it to rain enough that I could wear my galoshes, I didn't mean for it to rain for 24+ hours and then morph into snow. This is NOT Spring appropriate.

The Walk/Don't Walk sign on 4th North & 2nd East that I pass everyday walking to and from work, the Don't Walk Hand's middle finger is burned out. I secretly wish everyday that the ring finger and the thumb will burn out too and then it'll make Slaaaaaaaayeeeerrrrrrr. That would bring a little joy to my heart.

I think stress is making me old. I have some pretty hardcore wrinkles forming on my forehead. I'm convinced that it's stress. Although, now that I mention it, it could be because EVERY expression I have is some how tied to my forehead and the wrinkles might be a reaction to that. Ok. That's it. No more expressions. It'll be like Botox-free paralysis. That reminds me of an episode of Coupling (the British version, not the lame American one) where the red-haired character talks about how she's getting older and as a result she's saving expressions for the men she actually finds attractive, no wasting the good stuff on the duds.

There was an letter to the editor in the Herald Journal yesterday from a man who wanted to know why women just couldn't be upfront and honest about whether they liked the men they went on dates with instead of lying or saying they're "too busy." Evidently he went on a date with a woman and thought they had connected and had a great time and then she wouldn't return his calls or texts and when he ran into her, she said she had been busy and when he pushed the issue she said "we're through" and he felt like she owed him an explanation for why she wasn't into him. I mean, I'll be the first to admit that I'm a little pathetic in the love department, even more so recently, but I would never write a letter to the editor about it. Even I'm not that sad! Maybe the fact that he was willing to embrace the crazy and write a letter to the editor should be his first clue that maybe he's a little intense and most girls don't like to hook it up with the crazy!!

And Kevin, for the record, I always enjoyed hearing your stories. If I could vote for the nickname based on that alone it would be Papa AWE-SOME!

Raindrops keep fallin' on my head...

It's been raining pretty steadily since 1am this morning. Huzzah I say! I was finally able to wear my recently procured rain galoshes. I'd been wanting a pair of "wellingtons" for a while and bought myself a pair at the Target about a month ago, but the weather hadn't been rainy enough to necessitate them. Well. Today was definitely rainy enough and I wore them when I walked to work this morning. It was kinda awesome. Now all I need is a bright pink plastic raincoat and I'll be all set.

I watched a little Golden Girls last night. I'd forgotten how funny the episodes are. I aspire to be Sophia, but I'm pretty sure I'll be Dorothy....Bea Arthur here I come!

Kevin--Dr. Kevo?!

And Annette, what if I wanted to be my OWN Cool Rider? What if I came to the service station where you work, under the guise of needing gas, and offered to give you a ride, while people were honking and asking you for maps...would you fully support the motorbike riding then? What would they say if they knew is was Amanda?