Last Sunday Will and I were laying on the bed with our dogs watching TV and napping.
Will: "Cooper, come cuddle with me." (Cooper doesn't move at all.)
Will: "Derby, come cuddle with me." (Derby doesn't move at all.)
Me: "I will cuddle with you."
Will: "I don't want to cuddle with you."
Now I could have been upset at this, but after seeing the headlock he puts the dogs in when he cuddles with them. I think I am better off that he passed. :)
Tuesday, December 13, 2011
Thursday, December 8, 2011
Laugh for the Day
A friend of mine pinned this on Pinterest.com and I had to share. Everyone needs a good laugh.
"This morning I had a fight with Victor about towels. I can’t tell you the details because it wasn’t interesting enough to document at the time, but it was basically me telling Victor I needed to buy new bath towels, and Victor insisting that I NOT buy towels because I “just bought new towels“. Then I pointed out that the last towels I’d bought were hot pink beach towels, and he was all “EXACTLY” and then I hit my head against the wall for an hour.
Then Laura came to pick me up so we could go to the discount outlet together, and as Victor gave me a kiss goodbye he lovingly whispered, “You are not allowed to bring any more towels in this house or I will strangle you“. And that was exactly what I was still echoing through my head an hour later, when Laura and I stopped our shopping carts and stared up in confused, silent awe at a display of enormous metal chickens, made from rusted oil drums.
Laura: I think you need one of those.
Me: You’re joking, but they’re kind of horrifically awesome.
Laura: I’m not joking. We need to buy you one.
Me: The 5-foot tall one was $300, marked down to $100. That’s like, $200 worth of chicken for free.
Laura: You’d be crazy not to buy that. I mean, look at it. IT’S FULL OF WHIMSY.
Me: Victor’d be pissed.
Laura: Yup.
Me: But on the plus side? It’s not towels.
Laura: Yup.
Me: We will name him Henry. Or Charlie. Or O’Shannesy.
Laura: Or Beyoncé.
Me: Or Beyoncé. Yes. And when our friends are sad we can leave him at their front door to cheer them up.
Laura: Exactly. It’ll be like, “You thought *yesterday* was bad? Well, now you have a enormous metal chicken to deal with. Perspective. Now you have it.”
Then we flagged down a salesman, and we were all “What can you tell us about these chickens?”, as if we were in an art gallery, and not in a store that specializes in last years’ bathmats. He didn’t know anything about them, but he said that they’d only only sold one and it was to a really drunk lady, and then Laura and I were all “SOLD. All this chicken belongs to us now.” Insert-inappropriate-cock-joke-here.
So he loaded it onto a trolley, but Beyoncé was surprisingly unstable, and the giant 5 foot metal chicken crashed over onto the floor. And Laura and I were all “CHICKEN DOWN! CLEAN-UP IN AISLE 3″ but he didn’t laugh. Then the manager came to see what was causing all the commotion, and that’s when he found the very-conservative salesman unhappily struggling to right an enthusiastically pointy chicken which was almost as tall as he was. The salesman was having a hard time, and he told everyone to stand back “because this chicken will cut you“, and at first I thought he meant it as a threat, like “That chicken has a shiv”, but turns out he just meant that all the chickens’ ends were sharp and rusty. It was awesome, and Laura and I agreed that even if we got tetanus, this chicken had already paid for himself even before we got it in her truck.
Then we got to my house and quietly snuck the chicken up to my front door, rang the doorbell, and hid around the corner. Knock-knock. Victor opened the door and looked at the chicken in stunned silence for about 3 seconds. Then he sighed, closed the door and walked away.
Laura: What the f*ck? That’s it? That’s the only reaction we get?
Me: That’s it. He’s a hard man to rattle.
Victor was surprisingly pissed that I’d “wasted money” on an enormous chicken, because apparently he couldn’t appreciate the hysterical value of a 5 foot chicken ringing the doorbell. Then I said, “Well, at least it’s not towels” and apparently that was the wrong thing to say because that’s when Victor screamed and stormed off, but I knew he was locked in his office because I could hear him punching things in there. Then I yelled through his door, “It’s an anniversary gift for you. Two whole weeks early. 15 YEARS IS BIG METAL CHICKENS.” Then he yelled that he wanted it gone, but I couldn’t move it myself, so instead I said okay and went to watch tv.
Then when the UPS guy came I hid, but he was all “Dude. Nice chicken” and Victor yelled, “IT IS NOT A NICE CHICKEN”. Which was probably very confusing to the UPS guy, who was just trying to be polite.
"This morning I had a fight with Victor about towels. I can’t tell you the details because it wasn’t interesting enough to document at the time, but it was basically me telling Victor I needed to buy new bath towels, and Victor insisting that I NOT buy towels because I “just bought new towels“. Then I pointed out that the last towels I’d bought were hot pink beach towels, and he was all “EXACTLY” and then I hit my head against the wall for an hour.
Then Laura came to pick me up so we could go to the discount outlet together, and as Victor gave me a kiss goodbye he lovingly whispered, “You are not allowed to bring any more towels in this house or I will strangle you“. And that was exactly what I was still echoing through my head an hour later, when Laura and I stopped our shopping carts and stared up in confused, silent awe at a display of enormous metal chickens, made from rusted oil drums.
Laura: I think you need one of those.
Me: You’re joking, but they’re kind of horrifically awesome.
Laura: I’m not joking. We need to buy you one.
Me: The 5-foot tall one was $300, marked down to $100. That’s like, $200 worth of chicken for free.
Laura: You’d be crazy not to buy that. I mean, look at it. IT’S FULL OF WHIMSY.
Me: Victor’d be pissed.
Laura: Yup.
Me: But on the plus side? It’s not towels.
Laura: Yup.
Me: We will name him Henry. Or Charlie. Or O’Shannesy.
Laura: Or Beyoncé.
Me: Or Beyoncé. Yes. And when our friends are sad we can leave him at their front door to cheer them up.
Laura: Exactly. It’ll be like, “You thought *yesterday* was bad? Well, now you have a enormous metal chicken to deal with. Perspective. Now you have it.”
Then we flagged down a salesman, and we were all “What can you tell us about these chickens?”, as if we were in an art gallery, and not in a store that specializes in last years’ bathmats. He didn’t know anything about them, but he said that they’d only only sold one and it was to a really drunk lady, and then Laura and I were all “SOLD. All this chicken belongs to us now.” Insert-inappropriate-cock-joke-here.
So he loaded it onto a trolley, but Beyoncé was surprisingly unstable, and the giant 5 foot metal chicken crashed over onto the floor. And Laura and I were all “CHICKEN DOWN! CLEAN-UP IN AISLE 3″ but he didn’t laugh. Then the manager came to see what was causing all the commotion, and that’s when he found the very-conservative salesman unhappily struggling to right an enthusiastically pointy chicken which was almost as tall as he was. The salesman was having a hard time, and he told everyone to stand back “because this chicken will cut you“, and at first I thought he meant it as a threat, like “That chicken has a shiv”, but turns out he just meant that all the chickens’ ends were sharp and rusty. It was awesome, and Laura and I agreed that even if we got tetanus, this chicken had already paid for himself even before we got it in her truck.
Then we got to my house and quietly snuck the chicken up to my front door, rang the doorbell, and hid around the corner. Knock-knock. Victor opened the door and looked at the chicken in stunned silence for about 3 seconds. Then he sighed, closed the door and walked away.
Laura: What the f*ck? That’s it? That’s the only reaction we get?
Me: That’s it. He’s a hard man to rattle.
Victor was surprisingly pissed that I’d “wasted money” on an enormous chicken, because apparently he couldn’t appreciate the hysterical value of a 5 foot chicken ringing the doorbell. Then I said, “Well, at least it’s not towels” and apparently that was the wrong thing to say because that’s when Victor screamed and stormed off, but I knew he was locked in his office because I could hear him punching things in there. Then I yelled through his door, “It’s an anniversary gift for you. Two whole weeks early. 15 YEARS IS BIG METAL CHICKENS.” Then he yelled that he wanted it gone, but I couldn’t move it myself, so instead I said okay and went to watch tv.
Then when the UPS guy came I hid, but he was all “Dude. Nice chicken” and Victor yelled, “IT IS NOT A NICE CHICKEN”. Which was probably very confusing to the UPS guy, who was just trying to be polite.
Victor seemed more disgruntled than usual, so I finally dragged the chicken into the backyard and wedged it into a clump of trees so that it could scare the snakes away. Then I came in and Victor angrily pulled me into his office so that I could see that I’d stationed Beyoncé directly in front of his only window. And I was all “Exactly. YOU’RE WELCOME.” I told him that he could move Beyoncé if he wanted to, but he totally hasn’t. Probably because of all of the giant rocks I piled on Beyonce’s feet to dissuade burglars. Or possibly because Beyoncé is growing on him.
Still, I can’t help but think that we wouldn’t even be having this argument if Beyoncé was towels. Honestly, this whole chicken is really a lesson in picking your battles more carefully. Plus, he’s awesome and I can’t stop giggling every time I look at him. Beyoncé, that is. the. Best. 15th anniversary. ever.
Still, I can’t help but think that we wouldn’t even be having this argument if Beyoncé was towels. Honestly, this whole chicken is really a lesson in picking your battles more carefully. Plus, he’s awesome and I can’t stop giggling every time I look at him. Beyoncé, that is. the. Best. 15th anniversary. ever.
Wednesday, December 7, 2011
New Car!
I got a new car on Monday! Yipee! It's a Jeep Grand Cherokee.
Isn't she pretty!
Another view (as you can tell it was a little chilly when I took the photo this morning).
Here are the girl specks on my new car:
* It's Blue (really all girls want to know is what kind of car and what color)
* Black leather interior
* Heated and Cooled front seats
* Heated rear seats (all my passengers can thank me now)
* Heated Steering Wheel (This has been my favorite thing so far)
* BlueTooth with voice control (makes driving and talking so much easier, and safer)
* Navigation and Back up camera
I keep finding cool new things to love every day!
Here are the boy specks on my new car:
* 2012 Grand Cherokee Limited
* V-6
* 4 wheel drive
Really, I don't know what boys care about when it comes to cars. I know my husband is obsessed with what size wheels are on his truck. Every time one of our friends gets a new car, one of my first questions is what color is it. Will never asks what color it is, so obviously this is not what boys care about.
As with any new car I want to keep it perfect as long as possible. So when the dogs had to ride in the car on the way to Pratt on Tuesday morning I was a little on edge. First off, I walk outside at 5 am Tuesday morning and it is snowing. I put the dog's bed in the very back of the Jeep for them to sleep on, then I went to get the dogs. I open the back door (it has a power lift gate, so cool) and the dogs jump in and immediately jump over the back seat. I am screaming and freaking out for them to get in the back of the car, it didn't want them to scratch the leather. I am sure my neighbors enjoy the frantic screaming outside at 5 am. "GET IN THE BACK!! GET IN THE BACK OF THE CAR!! RIGHT NOW!!" So, I finally get them in the back and the whole trip I am yelling for them to lay down and stay in the back of the car. Derby looked so confused. I am sure after a while the dogs will have full reign of the car, but for now they have to deal with psycho mom and her new car.
Steering Wheel (in case you didn't know what that was)
Navigation
Back Up Camera
Now she just needs a name.
Tuesday, December 6, 2011
Water, Water, Everywhere and Not a Drop to Drink
Every Monday after yet another week were my diet and exercise is, well, non existent. I tell myself I am going to eat better and work out and the list goes on and on. Lets be honest, half of this is not going to happen. During the week I am living in a small town in a hotel room. My options for cooking are limited, and take out food is still pretty horrible for you even if you pick healthy options.
So, baby steps it is. My small goal this week is to drink more water. It is all I drink at home, and I am pretty good about drinking a decent amount. But on the road I find I am very bad about drinking enough water. I know if makes you feel better, makes your skin look better and fills you up so you don't eat as much.
My husband and my dog, Cooper, drink more water then any to beings I have ever met (yes I just talked about my husband's and dog's drinking habits together). But seriously, they drink a ton of water. I need to be more like them (only time I am going to say that).
Cheers to another glass of water!
P.S. I got a new car this weekend, I will tell you more about that next time!
So, baby steps it is. My small goal this week is to drink more water. It is all I drink at home, and I am pretty good about drinking a decent amount. But on the road I find I am very bad about drinking enough water. I know if makes you feel better, makes your skin look better and fills you up so you don't eat as much.
My husband and my dog, Cooper, drink more water then any to beings I have ever met (yes I just talked about my husband's and dog's drinking habits together). But seriously, they drink a ton of water. I need to be more like them (only time I am going to say that).
Cheers to another glass of water!
P.S. I got a new car this weekend, I will tell you more about that next time!
Thursday, December 1, 2011
A Pain in the Butt
My dogs are a pain in the butt. And now they need a pain in their butt, they are due for shots. Why do dogs need so many shots? I swear they get 4-5 a year. We get a lot when we are little, but I can't really remember the last time I had a shot.
I was trying to board my dogs this weekend (I know Thursday afternoon is kind of waiting until the last minute). Turns out Cooper needs one shot and Derby needs two. I am 250 miles from my vet, and I really don't want to have to go through a whole work up with a local vet just to get them boarded.
So I ask again, why do they need so many shots? Don't they have better immune systems. They eat poop and dead bird pieces and it doesn't even phase them (not that my dogs have eaten both of those this week).
If people want to interact with the general public no one asks for our medical records first. No one asked me when my last shots where when I booked my hotel room for the weekend. But my dog wants to stay three nights at a pet hotel and I have to provide detailed medical records. When you have traveled as much as we have, and the dogs have been to four vets in the past three years, it is a little hard to keep track of all their paperwork.
I guess we will be paying Aunt Krista a visit this weekend for three shots.
I was trying to board my dogs this weekend (I know Thursday afternoon is kind of waiting until the last minute). Turns out Cooper needs one shot and Derby needs two. I am 250 miles from my vet, and I really don't want to have to go through a whole work up with a local vet just to get them boarded.
So I ask again, why do they need so many shots? Don't they have better immune systems. They eat poop and dead bird pieces and it doesn't even phase them (not that my dogs have eaten both of those this week).
If people want to interact with the general public no one asks for our medical records first. No one asked me when my last shots where when I booked my hotel room for the weekend. But my dog wants to stay three nights at a pet hotel and I have to provide detailed medical records. When you have traveled as much as we have, and the dogs have been to four vets in the past three years, it is a little hard to keep track of all their paperwork.
I guess we will be paying Aunt Krista a visit this weekend for three shots.
Wednesday, November 30, 2011
Fa-La-La-La La-La La
It's Christmas Music Time!!!
I love Christmas music. I always have (but only after Thanksgiving). I know all the words to all the Christmas songs, even songs that aren't that traditional. You could say I am obsessed. Growing up, my family must have had 25+ Christmas CDs. I think my all time favorite is Amy Grant's Home for Christmas. I love to sing along to all the songs.
The only problem is I can not carry a tune, I can't even drag one behind me. I am an awful singer, totally off key, off tune, off pitch, off everything. My whole family suffers from being horrible singers, I think it is genetic. I can't even stand the sound of my own singing, I know it is really bad. So my solution is to turn the music up really loud, that way it drowns out the sound of my own voice.
My poor dogs are the only ones that really have to suffer through my horrendous singing. When I go on long car trips by myself, I sing along to the radio to keep me awake. I am surprised I have not driven them crazy, I am sure I hit notes that only dogs can hear, and the whole thing sounds like a sick cat.
I hope everyone enjoys the Christmas music this time of year, and I promise not to come caroling anytime soon.
I love Christmas music. I always have (but only after Thanksgiving). I know all the words to all the Christmas songs, even songs that aren't that traditional. You could say I am obsessed. Growing up, my family must have had 25+ Christmas CDs. I think my all time favorite is Amy Grant's Home for Christmas. I love to sing along to all the songs.
The only problem is I can not carry a tune, I can't even drag one behind me. I am an awful singer, totally off key, off tune, off pitch, off everything. My whole family suffers from being horrible singers, I think it is genetic. I can't even stand the sound of my own singing, I know it is really bad. So my solution is to turn the music up really loud, that way it drowns out the sound of my own voice.
My poor dogs are the only ones that really have to suffer through my horrendous singing. When I go on long car trips by myself, I sing along to the radio to keep me awake. I am surprised I have not driven them crazy, I am sure I hit notes that only dogs can hear, and the whole thing sounds like a sick cat.
I hope everyone enjoys the Christmas music this time of year, and I promise not to come caroling anytime soon.
Monday, November 28, 2011
Word of the Day
How was everyone's Thanksgiving? Mine was great, the best part was getting to spend a week in our new home.
So, I would do a pretty Thanksgiving recap for you, complete with pretty pictures of the mouth-watering food and the beautiful company. But I am going to be honest, I am horrible at remembering to take pictures. My whole family is horrible at remembering to take pictures. When I was little we would find an undeveloped roll of film around the house and finally take it in to be developed and we would find pictures from two Christmas's ago on it. We are just not picture takers. As my brother says, "I don't need pictures, I have the memories in my mind."
To prove my point, here is the only picture I took on Thanksgiving.
This would be Mike with his jeans tight rolled. I am really not even sure why he did it in the first place. I think I heard something about showing everyone why he couldn't wear skinny jeans because it would make his hips look big. We discuss important things at Thanksgiving.
So, now, finally on to the point of this post. The Word of the Day. We invented a new word at Thanksgiving. Are you ready for it?
Chat-Bitching - verb - when one is chatting with you but ends up bitching about something you didn't want to hear about.
I will use it in a sentence for you. Sarah called me up just to chat-bitch. OR I think we just got chat-bitched by that salesman.
Usually you don't know you are being chat-bitched until after it has happened. I feel this new word will be very useful in future conversations. This may not be the best new word ever, but we sure did think it was hilarious at Thanksgiving. People were crying they were laughing so hard. Could have been the wine.
Well, I hope you all had a fantastic Thanksgiving.
So, I would do a pretty Thanksgiving recap for you, complete with pretty pictures of the mouth-watering food and the beautiful company. But I am going to be honest, I am horrible at remembering to take pictures. My whole family is horrible at remembering to take pictures. When I was little we would find an undeveloped roll of film around the house and finally take it in to be developed and we would find pictures from two Christmas's ago on it. We are just not picture takers. As my brother says, "I don't need pictures, I have the memories in my mind."
To prove my point, here is the only picture I took on Thanksgiving.
This would be Mike with his jeans tight rolled. I am really not even sure why he did it in the first place. I think I heard something about showing everyone why he couldn't wear skinny jeans because it would make his hips look big. We discuss important things at Thanksgiving.
So, now, finally on to the point of this post. The Word of the Day. We invented a new word at Thanksgiving. Are you ready for it?
Chat-Bitching - verb - when one is chatting with you but ends up bitching about something you didn't want to hear about.
I will use it in a sentence for you. Sarah called me up just to chat-bitch. OR I think we just got chat-bitched by that salesman.
Usually you don't know you are being chat-bitched until after it has happened. I feel this new word will be very useful in future conversations. This may not be the best new word ever, but we sure did think it was hilarious at Thanksgiving. People were crying they were laughing so hard. Could have been the wine.
Well, I hope you all had a fantastic Thanksgiving.
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