Our Tax Dollars at Work Again

I just learned something really weird. I'm not entirely certain of all the facts, so if I'm wrong please correct me.

Sometime around Thanksgiving, there's a National Thanksgiving Turkey presentation in the Rose Garden at the White House. (This has aparrently been going on since Lincoln was president.) Some farmer named Lynn Nutt raises a bunch of big, fancy turkeys and then brings them to the White House where they run around for awhile. (That part's a little sketchy.) He raises them by hand so they're tame.

He picks two special ones ahead of time and one is presented to the President as the National Thanksgiving Turkey. He then "pardons" the turkey. (The other one is the alternate. In case one pecks the President and he decides not to pardon him?)

Aparrently this year, the President's dog Barney chased one of the turkeys around for awhile and made it all nervous. I bet that was pretty awesome to watch.

This year's turkeys were named Flyer and Fryer. Flyer was the National Turkey and Fryer was the alternate. They were both flown to California where they were honorary grand marshals of Disneyland's Thanksgiving Day parade.

Is that a strange national custom or what; National Thanksgiving Turkeys? Pardons?! Uff dah.

The variety pack consisted of a LOT of chocolatey goodness.  And so I've been sitting here munching on it for about 10 minutes now.  I still have a lot less.

Life could not be better.

My New Level of Patheticness

I decided that I was hungry.  I also decided that nothing but chocolate would do to fill me up.  We don't have any chocolate where I am.

So...I sent the following email down to one of the other buildings where I knew there was an extensive chocolate stash.

"Um, can you inter-office me some chocolate with the delivery that comes up around noon?  (I'd come down myself, but it's REALLY COLD outside and since I'm moving to Texas, I'm not bothering to acclimate myself this year.)

If you're busy, that's just fine.  I can walk down myself if I need to!

Thanks,
Jenna"

A few moments later, I received a reply:

"Variety pack is on it's way and WON'T melt!!!!!!  You'll need a COAT in Texas too!!!!!"

Sweet.  My chocolate craving will be sated after all!

Joey Is The Best

Let it hereby be known that my husband, Joseph Allen Woestman, is the best ever.

Ever.

He just said his Great Scripture Psalms passages for the scholarship, and he did it perfectly! It only took 10 minutes. I'm SO VERY PROUD of him. :)

Henry's Last Day

Poor Henry.  It's his last day as a little boy dog and he doesn't even know it.

He's not allowed to eat or drink anything after 8:00 p.m. today, and then at 6:00 Joey's getting up to take our little baby down to the Low Cost Spay Clinic where, for $55, we are getting our little boy turned into an It.

He was just looking at me with his furry little face this morning and I started feeling so bad for him!  He's so good at making me feel like mean and nasty slime, all he has to do is cock his head to the side and look at me with pathetic eyes and I turn to putty in his paws.  (It is those same "pathetic eyes" that he seems to use on my brothers more often than he should.  He got way too much Chex Mix last weekend when they were over.)

The best part of it all is that this so-named Low Cost Spay Clinic doesn't keep him over night, so we'll get a sleepy, stiched-up, dopey puppy back tomorrow afternoon.  (I wonder if he'll walk into any walls or if he'll just lay around like a blob...)  He'll look so funny with a bald tummy after they shave him.  <sigh>

I must digress, but I have major hiccups and I've had them since I woke up. It's now about 9:40 (I did have an hour reprieve when I first got here).  It's super hard to answer the phone, too, because I wind up sounding like some kind of drunk idiot when I hiccup in the person's ear.

I'M GOING TO GO CRAZY!!!

An Experiment for Jenna

I'm trying something new. Since I am no longer able to get on Blogger during them (ahem) DAY, I'm going to have to post by email. This means that my posts will be considerably less cool than they previously were as I'm not able to change font color or size. I can't post pictures during the (ahem) DAY either. I'll have to save those for when I go to the library or stand by The Stick out back.

We'll see if this works.

One more thing. This is so hilarious. The guy next to me thinks the girl on the other side of him is, like, totally hot. He just asked her what kind of perfume she was wearing. It was awesome, they were trying to whisper and couldn't understand each other so she finally had to say...

AMORE

really loudly. Cracked me up. So much for subtle, there, cowboy!

2.8 miles

I just walked back to Panera to get my car. I thought about taking Henry, but he's really tired today so I left him in his kennel to lounge around. Seriously, dogs have such an easy life.

It only took me 55 minutes to walk back to my car today, as opposed to the hour and 20 minutes that it took last night. This is probably due to the fact that I have tennis shoes on today, and I could actually see where I was walking.

Another positive aspect of the walk this morning was that nobody tried to "give me a ride". Some guy thought I was a damsel in distress last night and offered to give me a lift. (I was talking to Jamie on the phone just then, so I felt entirely safe and not scared at all.) I told him I was fine and he drove off. He had a super big truck and that scared me.

Um, I'm pretty tired now so I'm going to go back home and finish watching Pride and Prejudice (with the commentary on this time!). Henry keeps getting bored and falling asleep. I think he's a nerd.

Oh, and I brought all of the sets of keys with me when I went into the library. No more of this "locking the keys in the car" business for me.

Dangit

So it's the day after Thanksgiving (or, in my family "Christmas") and my family's gone home, Joey's at work, and Henry needs as nap. So I went to Panera to get online and have some soup. As I was ordering, I ran into a friend from camp (Kelsie) that I haven't seen in, like, four years. Crazy.

Since I brought the lappy with me, I left my purse in the car and put my wallet in the lappy bag. The only bad part is that I locked both sets of keys in my car. Again. I'm too ashamed of myself to call Joey and besides, he's at work bringin' home the bacon for his baby. (That would be me.)

I am a complete and total gomer.

I'm not sure how to get myself out of this fix either, since Jamie's in Oklahoma and that would be a really long drive just to come give me a ride home. I may have to walk. It's only 2 1/2 miles...Besides, I probably got fat over Thanksgiving.

Something else really bad happened to me just now, but I can't remember what it is/was. I know it's not that I look creepy because I have a zit (I do, though) or that people are giving me odd "teenager" looks as they walk past (but they are). Maybe it'll come to me later.

So I guess I'm just more fatalistic than necessary, always assuming bad things are happening to me. I'm going to finish my soup and try to figure out how I'm getting home. It's only 6:30 and Joey doesn't get off work until 11.

DANGIT! I am such a gomer!

We Look Like Trouble

On Sunday after church, The Kid and I were waiting for Joey. Seems to me that while at church I spend an inordinate amount of time waiting for Joey because he has some kind of disappearing act. I can NEVER find him; I turn around and poof! he's gone.

Anyway, The Kid and I started feeling tricksy, so we got out the camera and took pictures of ourselves. The sun was super bright and it was hurting our beady little eyes, so we look squinty and evil.


I think The Kid looks like some kind of travelling salesman. If he came to my door, I'd probably buy something from him. On another topic, he was the only person in our Sunday School class who wasn't married. (Young marrieds and whatnot) But, seeing as he isn't approved for any girlfriends yet, he's going to have to be OK with the unmarried status for awhile.

Kid, I'll let you know when you're approved for girlfriends.

It's 50 Degrees Outside, But Our Christmas Tree Is Up

We went to Captain Jack's tree farm on Saturday to pick out our Christmas tree. This is easier said than done as most of the trees are really strange looking, and have large holes or strange tentacle-like branches.

After running around the farm (and not tripping on any stumps) for an hour, we selected a tree that The Kid found. Joey cut it down and then held it up above his head while we carried it to the road. Most of the dead needles fell down into his coat (he whined about it for quite some time) and Alex and I had no sympathy for him. He WAS carrying the tree above his head, after all.

When we got the tree home, Henry was scared of it. Ernie, Alex's dog, was over too, so we gated them into the back hallway. This proved to be a bad idea because Henry developed a case of separation anxiety and whined for an hour. An hour. But, of course, I couldn't go over there because then I would just reinforce the negative behavior... Anyway.

After the boys finally got the tree level, they strung the lights (quite prettily, I might add) and we debated whether or not to put ribbon on. The boys liked it (I didn't) so we left it on. It has grown on me, now I sort of like it.
Our completed tree turned out quite pretty, especially with the rest of the decorations! I know this picture is basically the same as the other one, but I liked it better because of the candles on the coffee table.

I had so much fun decorating the rest of the house. I got to get out my Nativity scene!!! I really like it and I have way too much fun setting it up. The little black sheep are SO cute...



Oh, Henry has warmed up to the Christmas tree. (A little bit too much...) He tries to get all up in its business and winds up with sap all over his fur. Little weirdo...He's getting much better about staying out of the tree, though.

I just LOVE Christmas! It's a little weird to have my house decorated when it's so gorgeous outside, but I suppose I should get used to it? I'm sure it isn't freezing and snowing in Dallas...

I know it's before Thanksgiving and that's like the biggest Christmas faux-pas ever, but since we're having my family's Christmas at our house on Friday, we made an exception. And it was so much fun to set up. :)

Merry Christmas!

Get a Clue

On Saturday night, we had our Life Size Clue activity at church. Joey, Alex and I were dressed to the nines. We looked totally awesome.

Alex must have looked totally guilty, because two out of the four teams thought he was the culprit. He wasn't, of course, but we all know he looks like he did it. (Whatever it is.)

Here's Joey and I (the Odd Couple for sure!)















And Jamie and I (she's my Mom, Mrs. Peacock. I'm Miss Scarlet, of course.)















And us three girls! (Tiffany was Mrs. White, Jamie was Mrs. Peacock and I was Miss Scarlet.)

Adventures in Moving

As the self-proclaimed technology consultant for this blog, once again I have been called into action. You may notice on the sidebar on right there is a new link under Cool Links!

Jenna has of course revealed that we are indeed moving to Texas. I am going to continue my seminary education at Dallas Theological Seminary. We're really excited about the move!

In fact, we're going to blog all moving-related stories (well, most of them at least) on our new blog, "Adventures in Moving." It's going to be great! As usual, I won't do much bloggin' at all (notice how wooden my style is? Not neare as good as Jenna's), I'll just take care of those pesky little technology problems . . .

So anyway, follow the fun down south at Adventures in Moving!

-Joey

Lucky Me

Last night, I took a friend from back home to "the best mall in Iowa". We got to go to fantastic stores like Pottery Barn, Pottery Barn Kids, and Williams Sonoma. (Williams Sonoma is a dangerous vortex but I managed to come through unscathed and with pocketbook intact.)

I only spent $5, and that was on part of a Christmas present for someone else. I did happen to have a "make a purchase, get something up to $12.50 free" card at Bath and Body, so I got some fantastic hand creme for free. :)

We left the mall at 7:15 (gotta be back in time for CSI with Jamie!!!) and, when we got to the car, I noticed a small, green bag lying on the cement by my car.

"Hey, do you think there's anything in that?" I asked my friend.

I picked it up and opened it up. The first thing I noticed was the receipt: it was from The Gap. And there was no name on it.

I pulled out the item in the bag. It was a white, 3/4 length sleeve layering t-shirt in my size that was on clearance for $7. And, a month ago when it wasn't on sale, I had considered buying it.

"Your size," my friend sang as she strapped her little boy's car seat into the back of my car.

"Um, so, finders keepers?" I asked, hesitantly. I looked around to see if the car who belonged to the shirt was going to drive up looking for it. "There's no name..."

I made an executive decision and tossed the bag in by my purse. I felt sorry for the poor little girl who lost her shirt, but if I left it in the parking lot either somebody else would take it, or it would get thrown away by security.

It did bring to mind my shopping experience from last week; Joey and I finished all our Christmas shopping and, as we were getting home, we realized that we were missing a package. We figured it was in the car. About 7:30 we checked the car and...no package.

We'd left it on the floor at the store.

Frantically I dug through the phone book to find the number to the store. Nobody was answering the phone, so I called the mall to double check that I had the number correct.

Of course, this particular Hallmark store had gotten bought out and changed names (and, assumedly, phone numbers) since the phone book had come out several months ago. I tried the new number. A very perky girl answered the phone and confirmed that she had my packages. I was elated and said I'd be back the next day to pick them up.

When I came in the next day, there was a different girl behind the counter. This one was none too bright, but after I explained the situation several times, she remembered. I identified the items and we were on our way, bag in hand.

I held on really tight, too.

All this to say, I feel really bad for the poor little girl (or pathetic boyfriend who bought his girlfriend a $7 Gap t-shirt) who lost her shirt at the mall last night. But I do like the shirt, I'm wearing it right now!

Joey Gains 70 Libs

This weekend, our youth group is having an activity called "Life Size Clue". Us leaders are dressing up as the charachters and acting out the story for the kids who have to figure out the mystery.

I am Miss Scarlet, Joey is Professor Plum, and Alex is Professor Brown. Joey's charachter description was a plump, middle-aged professor.

Immediately he began planning to have a really, really bad costume. Plaid jacket, purple striped shirt, and creepy brown tie. If that wasn't enough, he stuffed a pillow up the shirt to give himself proper "padding", and then had me help him stuff dish towels down his arms to make those look appropriately plump.

He then wore this getup to youth group.

I couldn't pick which picture to put on here, so I'll just put them all. He was....in rare form. Gloriously nerdy. And he was very comfy to lean on during the long meeting we had after youth group. :)

Oh, on Saturday we're putting baby powder in his hair to make him look all gray and old-timey. But enough of me, here's what he looks like!There are no words. None at all.

Henry Gets Smart

About three months ago, we bought Henry a doggy bed. He wasn't interested in it at all; he'd rather beat it up or jump over it than actually sit in it.

Last night, when I came out of the bathroom, this is what I saw. And I was astonished.

"Quick, Joey! Get me a marshmallow! He's in his doggy bed!"

Joey came tearing out of the office (I figured that would spunk Henry right up and then he'd jump out of the bed), grabbed a marshmallow and we gave it to Henry.

Henry likes marshies just about as much as I do, but we hardly ever give him any. I figured he deserved his favorite treat for actually using the doggy bed for its intended purpose.

And he's so cute!

Blanket?

Just now I was traumatized to find out that Michael Jackson's youngest child's name is Blanket. (Poor child.)

Blanket.

Now I'll be the first to admit that, yes, I did sleep with my security blanket until I was 22 and engaged to be married. But I'm definitely not so attached to that piece of cloth that I would name my oldest son or daughter Blanket.

(Now which would Blanket be, a masculine or feminine name?)

That poor child! First his or her father is Michael Jackson, and second, can you just imagine all the cruel nicknames children would make off of "Blanket?"

If it were me, I'd definitely go by my middle name. (Unless, of course, it was something worse like "bottle" or "pacifier".)

And, for those of you that are really curious, my security blanket is back at my parent's house in a box. I was there once last year without Joey and I pulled it out of the box to try sleeping with it for old time's sake. But it kept me up most all night because I felt extremely weird.

I found it on the floor in the morning.

No, I Didn't Steal Anything, Officer

Certainly a person such as yourself can understand how terribly frusterating it is to set off the security alarm every single blessed time you leave a store.

I have this problem every so often and I'm not really sure why. (Maybe stress?) For some reason unbeknownst to me or Joey, I set off the alarm at Target, Walmart, HyVee...you name it. It used to be kind of embarassing, but after this happening off and on for about a year and a half, I've gotten used to it.

I actually used to dig through my purse to see what it was in there that could be setting off the alarm. Then I noticed the alarm would go off even if I didn't have my purse, and even if I didn't have my cell phone. Aparrently it's nothing electronic, not even my car keys, because I can leave that stuff in the car and still set the darn alarm off.

Last night before church I went to Target with Joey to pick up some hot chocolate for him to drink while he studied. We were walking out talking very intensely about some Very Interesting Things that had happened to me at work that day. Then----

BEEEEP BEEEEEP BEEEEEP BEEEEEP

I threw up my hands, made a "AAAAAAAUGH!" noise, and didn't even turn around to see if any of the store employees were following me to "take down the shoplifter" with numb-chucks and pepper spray. (No, it wasn't the hot chocolate we had bought. The day before I'd been in Target by myself, without my cell phone and didn't buy anything and I still set the alarm off.)

After church we realized we'd forgotten marshies and cool-whip, so we stopped at HyVee.

Sure enough, I set off the alarm. And I screamed there, too.

The Kid says that screaming may not be the best thing to do, he thinks I might get arrested or something. But...but...I seem to set those things off just from being alive and breathing, so it's super annoying and I ought to be entitled to a good "aaaaaugh" every so often, right?

At least I'm not one of those people who blows lightbulbs when they walk under them, or drains watch batteries in 5 minutes. (I know people who do those things, so I didn't make that stuff up.) That could get expensive, having to replace lightbulbs all the time.

No, when I get stressed I set off security alarms.

I'll Never Be A Hand Model

On Saturday, Joey and I dropped our wedding rings off at the jewelers to get re-rhodium plated. (White gold is kind of a pain in that aspect.)

After spending two days feeling strange and like my left hand was naked, I went to Kohl's last night and bought the cheapest, least obtrusive, costume-jewelery ring I could find for $7.41. I actually like the ring I picked out, but it's certainly NOT my wedding ring. I miss it.

Anyway, I took a picture of the ring to post on here, and in doing so I realized that I have extremely odd-shaped hands. My pinky finger is way too short or something. (Hmm, kind of like the rest of me.) And, since I keep my nails so short (NO, don't don't chew on them), all my fingers look stumpy.I can't wait until Friday when I can have my real ring back!! It won't make me look like a hand model, but at least it'll be my wedding ring. :)

I Am Preppy

When I was going to ISU, I was severely preppy. It got so bad that at one point I owned one pair of jeans and never wore them. (A college student?!) If I was wearing courderoy khakis, I considered that "casualwear".

Oh, I amend that, I did have a pair of dark-denim trouser jeans, but they didn't look like jeans at all.

When I transferred to FBBC, I sort of became strange, introverted, and altogether abnormal. I put my preppy ways behind me and began opting for a somber wardrobe of black, brown, and gray.

Now that I'm married, I occasionally suffer from Dumpy Wife Syndrome (which I try to avoid at all costs and rectifiy as soon as I notice I'm dumpy). I am no longer categorically "preppy", nor am I the somber dweep that I once was. I am, it would be appropriate to say, a spaz.

I even wear a considerable amount of hot pink.

Anyway, this morning I looked in the mirror and realized that I was extraordinarily preppy again. (I look like those little boys in Sunday School or the nursery whose moms put so many "big-boy" clothes on that they can't move properly.)

I've got on khakis, a white button-down, and a brown and pink vest and jacket over that. Oh, and brown shoes. I kind of creep myself out.

Stuff That Cool People Say

My family has its own linguistic subculture. Seriously. (Sewiously?) If you want to be cool, here are some words and phrases for you to start incorporating into your daily speech. Just watch, people will start handing you money or asking for your autograph in a matter of days.

Stuff To Say:

• Wight, wight or Sewiously (turn the "r" sound into a "w" sound).
  "Wight, wight" is in response to something somebody said that's only reasonably believable. "Sewiously" is said pretty much whenever you want.
• Hoser, Hose-Head
  These are pretty much from Strange Brew. Anyone not cool (or anyone at all pretty much) is a hoser.
  
• Beauty, eh?
  We don't say this as much anymore, but anything good is a "beauty". It is especially great if you tack on the "eh" after the "beauty". It makes you sound more, um, Canadian. (Which we aren't, but it's fun.)
  
• Gomer
  Anyone who is not cool is a gomer
• Sweet dang!
  This one is The Kid's, I stole it from him. It's pretty great.
• Witches Brew
  We don't really know why we say this, but sometimes we just say "witches brew" for good measure. It's kind of died off for awhile, but it'll probably come back.
  
• Butter
  Joey and I are trying to start this one, but it's not catching on. It's like "bummer" only better because it's like a butt instead of a bum. (Joey's logic, not mine. Let's just go with it.)
  
• Don't be sad, Mom/Dad!
  We have to say this all the time. Mom gets sad when we say stuff like "gomer" or "sweet dang", so then we have to say "don't be sad, Mom!" to hopefully cheer her up. It doesn't really work.
  "Don't be sad, Dad" isn't quite as common because Pops doesn't wilt as often as Mom does. But occasionally he does (usually when we're teasing him about "The Frog Face" or some other such Popsism) and then we have to console him.
  

Be cool, say that stuff. Come on, do it. Now.

Wherein I Realize That I Have Only 34 Days Left of Gainful Employment In The State of Iowa And I Begin To Panic.

Today didn't start out well in the first place. At about 7:05 Joey came hopping into the bathroom with a disgusted look on his face. He was incapable of saying anything coherent at first (lots of strange jibberish) but I managed to get out of him that he'd stepped in some of Henry's, um, poo. Aparrently Henry had an accident (first one in a couple of months, evil doggy) and Joey was super grossed out.

I had to clean up Henry's little gift while Joey bleached his foot. I almost puked.

Then, when I got here, I tore off my posty-note countdown and realized that the number was 34. Only 34.

I began to get the jibblies.

Then I realized that my desk was piled with work and I probably wasn't even going to be able to finish it all in the 34 days I have left. (And those 34 days count Saturdays, Sundays and holidays.)

I began to get more jibblies. I considered drinking coffee but ruled that out because of the adverse affects on my body's chemistry. (With all that work piled high I needed to not be shaking, having waves nausea, or running around the office screaming "SoBe NoFear, SoBo NoFear!!!!!!")

I opted for my 10:00 tea instead, and wound up making a royal mess of that; I spilled it on my shoe and all over the microwave.

Then, after looking at my calendar (which I found!), I realized that next Thursday and Friday are Thanksgiving and Thanksgivingmas (my immediate family's version of Christmas this year. We have to have it the day after Thanksgiving) and I started getting nervous about the arrival of all the gifts we ordered on the Internet.

I began feeling shifty and a whole lot like that Goblin again.


Immediately after this, the power went out (again) and I thought I lost all my data. I pounded on my desk and announced that I was sick and going home. Then the power came back on and my data wasn't lost. I was disappointed that I wasn't sick and I wasn't going home. (But at least I had my data.)

All in all, I've been kind of frazzled all morning. I guess I'm moving real soon or something, because my stress level seems kind of high. (And I'm not really a high-stress kind of person.) I haven't been this jumpy since I was in 8th grade.

Dumpy Wife Syndrome

I had decided today that I was going to wear my Canada t-shirt and be a real slob. Joey said, "Oh, I'll be a slob too."

He came back from getting dressed and was not looking like a slob. Immediately I felt as thought I had succumbed to Dumpy Wife Syndrome. In a state of panic, I rushed back and frantically applied makeup and re-did my pathetic ponytail several times.

(The ponytail was kind of hopeless since I have really short hair, but I at least felt better about trying to improve it.)

I felt weird wearing a strange t-shirt, having wet hair in a ponytail, and having makeup on my face, but at least I felt less dumpy.

For good measure I said to Joey, "Um, I think I eat too much sugar. Can you please stop bringing me candy from your work?"

"OK, sure." He hollered from the next room. Aparrently the Dumpy Wife Syndrome crisis wasn't bothering him very much.

After I realized the ramifications of my outburst, I ammended it with, "Except if it's salt water taffy. You can still bring me that."

He laughed.

And now we're going Christmas shopping. We thoroughly intend to get it all done before Thanksgiving. At least I don't look quite as much as though I have Dumpy Wife Syndrome, but the makeup really wasn't that big of an improvement.

I Must Be, like, Short

It's snowing here. (The first snow of the year!) That rhymed, whoops.

Anyway, I got all giddy about the snow and ran over to the window and smashed my nose on it. For some reason, I felt like that would help me see the snow more clearly or something. (In reality, all it did was fog up the window from my breathing on it.) I'm really glad somebody didn't come up the walk just then, they'd have seen me looking like a pig.

When I stepped away from the window I was quite astonished when I looked at my little nose smudge on the window and thought, "Am I really that short?"

The smudge was extremely low, much lower than I thought it would be. I guess I'm, like, short or something.

Surprise.

Oh Dear

My greatest paranoia when I wear khakis is that I've sat in chocolate and nobody has bothered to tell me.

Perhaps this is because once, when I was wearing a pair of dark denim jeans, I sat in chocolate and nobody told me until quite a long time after the fact. What made it worse was that I forgot by the time I got home, put the jeans in my drawer and wore them again before washing it out.

I'm not sure how I sat on chocolate in the first place, but work with me.

If chocolate is visible on dark denim jeans, it certainly would be visible on khakis. Every time I get up during the day, I have this overwhelming feeling of "What if?!" until I sit back down again. If there were a floor-length mirror in the restroom that would be one thing, but there isn't.

Anyway, I'm sitting down at the moment and I just happened to feel something scratchy on my pants. (I can't tell yet if it's chocolate.) At least it's on the leg, but I've been too scared to actually stand up and survey the damage. Besides, I just went to the bathroom. They're going to think I have problems if I go every 10 minutes.

I really hope it isn't chocolate.

Stink

I like cows. I have a stash of them at work and a stash of them at home. I do not, however, decorate my house in a cow motif. That creeps me out.

Mom got me this amazing finger puppet of a cow last year. She figured I could use it when I taught children's church or whatnot. I named him Stink. (Sorry, Dad, but it's true: cows stink).

Stink is really cute and, as I was writing my lesson for Youth Group, I determined that I would use Stink, and some of my other cows from my collection, to try to demonstrate holiness. (I'm not sure if it really worked, there was lots of giggling.)

When Joey and I got home and I started digging the cows out of the bag. Henry caught a glimpse of Stink and he ran right over.

Stink really, really ticked off Henry. He wanted nothing more than to knock Stink to the ground and chew on him for a super long time.

He finally whacked him enough (his paw is all fuzzy in the second picture) and figured he deserved to munch on Stink. So I let him have a few chews.
We're not really sure why Henry is so obsessed with Stink...maybe it's because Henry stinks?

The Reason For Whycomes We Lost

Last night's elections didn't go so well. Our party got trounced and, I must say, it's quitedemoralizing. Joey, Henry and I all voted (well, Henry sat outside while I voted) so at least we did our civic duty.

Alex (aka The Kid, Coolguy and The Little Man), however, did not.

The Kid turned 18 last Thursday, five days before the election. He was unable to register to vote, though, because you have to be something like 17 1/2 to register, or 11 days before the election. We decided we'd blame any of our party's losses on The Kid since he didn't vote.

Most likely it's probably my parent's fault that The Kid didn't vote and, thus, we lost seats, but it's more fun to blame The Kid. (My parents didn't realize he had to be registered 11 days before the election.) I suppose I could make my mom feel real sad if I keep blaming them, though, so I won't.

Don't be sad, Mom!

The Kid, this is all your fault for not voting! I expect large cash donations and Krispy Kremes to make up for this terrible loss and all the subsequent emotional duress. (I'm not sure what large cash donations will do for the "emotional duress", but it was all I could think up on short notice.)

So get on that.

That Goblin

I am feeling really tricksy and impetuous today. All day long I have felt like That Goblin (perhaps why I took that weird picture of myself earlier?) and keep making weird faces at my computer screen.

All I need is a little bit of creepy-organ background music and I'm set. Oh, and I need to dance a little jig because That Goblin does every time.

Speaking of, is that what a Goblin even looks like? I wouldn't know.

30 more minutes until FREEEEEEEE-DOMMMMMMM!

Lunch Mishap

Last night, I quickly packed my lunch, made a loaf of bread so I could pack Joey's lunch, and made all of Henry's meals for this week. I didn't have enough matching containers, so I had to use one of my Tupperwares.

I should, at this time, mention that YES, Henry eats real food. None of that nasty commercial dog food for my puppy! I did quite a bit of research and made the decision to make Henry's food from real ingredients. A meal for him this week consists of: a spoonful of canned pumpkin, a spoonful of cottage cheese, 1/4 pound of beef and turkey, and a handfull of raw shredded carrots and broccoli. And he LOVES it. It's pretty much the same price as the commercial dog food option, too.

A friend of mine came over to drop some things off, and then she and I left to run an errand. When I came home and grabbed the leftover chicken salad and put it in my lunch. I had some yesterday and it was super delectable.

Today I opened up my lunch and, to my great dismay, it was Henry's lunch! It did not smell as appetizing as the chicken salad I had been expecting. To be fair, I could have eaten what I brought, since it all came from my refrigerator in the first place, but raw broccoli and I don't get along very well.

Remind me not to use two identical containers for Henry's food and my lunch next time. (Actually I think I'll stop at the Dollar Tree on my way home and pick up 4 more containers for Henry's dinner.)

Joey saved the day (as usual, he's my Superhero!) and brought me my chicken salad AND my puppy. Henry is so cute. He always steals everyone's hearts whenever he comes in. :)

So now that it's 2:00 and I've finally had my lunch...

Today I Feel Like This...

I'm actually quite awake today. Much, much better than yesterday!

Why I Like Wireless

My parents have wireless internet. Since we don't have any internet, we think it's super cool.

1. You can be online on the couch
2. You can be online on the back porch
3. You can be online loafing around in bed
4. You can be online in the bathroom
5. You don't have to sit at a desk

It's pretty great. Especially since I ate that jalapeño last night. I really like wireless.

The Jalapeño

Last night we ordered pizza from Papa John's for dinner. It was yummy. Papa John's pizza always comes with one jalapeño in every pizza box. I looked at the jalapeño, I looked at The Kid. I looked at the jalapeño, I looked at The Kid.

Quick as a wink, I put the jalapeño on his plate and said, "Eat it. Now. Do it."

"OK, fine," he said, and shrugged his shoulders. This was not the reaction I had been going for.

I grabbed it back. "No way, I'm going to eat it. I've never eaten one before."

The Kid's eyes lit up. "OK! Only you have to stick the whole thing in your mouth at once, and then swallow it." His eyes gleamed with a sort of strange excitement.

Andrew, my sane brother, giggled nervously. Dad and Joey looked at each other.

"Um, hon?" Joey said, "Remember when you drank that entire SoBe NoFear 'just to see what would happen?' Remember how you were sick for three days?"

"Listen to the man," My dad said.

"Yes, I remember. But that was caffeine. I'm going to eat this anyway." As I was saying these words I was thinking "stupid, stupid, stupid!"

I put the jalapeño in my mouth. I bit down....and it began to burn. I chewed, swallowed and ate a bite of pizza real quick to try to make the burning sensation diminish. (It didn't.) My esophagus felt as if it were on fire.

"Now," Dad said, "We don't want to hear any whining from you for the rest of the evening, since your husband told you not to eat the jalapeño and you still did. So...no whining."

"OK..."

Joey was looking rather pleased with himself, and very obviously trying not to laugh.

Five minutes later I said, "MAN, my esophagus is---"

"DA! No talking about it!" Pops exclaimed. I wrinkled my nose at him.

I sweated until 10:00. Four and a half hours. We had some youth group girls over and they thought I was having hot flashes. (I should certainly hope not.) Seriously...why do I do these things? :)

100% Hydrated

I got up early this morning, primarily because Henry was wiggling around on the bed. When I'm at my parent's house, he makes too much noise in his kennel and I am afraid he'll keep others up, so I let him sleep with us. (Perhaps it is the wrong thing to do.) Dad installed this fantastic looking lightpost in the front yard (think The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe) and it illuminates so well that it made it hard to sleep in our room. Between that and Henry's wiggly ways, it was a long night.

So at 7:00, I'd had enough. I made Henry and Ernie's breakfast (but Henry was too excited to eat much of his) and sat down with my Pops who has just earned his SIOR, I might add. (YAY DAD! I call him Sire now because it sounds cool.) After about an hour of dazing off into the cornfield, Dad looked at me and said, "Hey, let's go to Starbucks and get a steamer."

I had plans to meet with a friend of mine at 10:00, and we were going to Panera. And coffee has been really, really bad for me lately; makes me jibblie and I can't breathe and I shake a lot. So I'm trying to quit.

"Well, I'm going to coffee with Adriel at 10:00..."

"Oh you can go twice. Come on, let's go."

I shrugged. "Sure, as long as I'm back in time."

(I might add that Mom piped in at this point with a "Drinking that much coffee isn't good for you, remember!", but she's cute so we just patted her on the head and said we probably wouldn't drink much coffee. Mom's real healthy.)

Mom gave us a Wal-Mart list (I know, I know...) and we headed out. It was pretty cold.

I got a Pomegranate Frappuccino at Starbucks (no coffee for me!) and Pops got a Vanilla Steamer (no coffee for him either, Mom!) and we took them into Wal-mart without asking. Nobody kicked us out. (As if they would dare kick my Pops out anyway, he's a new SIOR!)

We made it to my parent's house just in time for me to turn around and go to Panera to meet Adriel, where I happily sipped tea for an hour and a half. And now I feel like I could float a battleship.

Yeah...

This is, like, my fourth post of the day. (But who's counting?)

We arrived at my parent's house and promptly locked our keys in the car. This was bad for several reasons:
1. Henry's dinner was in the car
2. Alex's presents (both of them) were in the car
3. Our cell phones, camera, my purse, and Joey's wallet were in the car
4. The pie for Alex's birthday was in the car
5. The keys were in the car

After having a really bad day, I didn't so much handle the "oops, the keys are locked in the car" thing very well. I got kind of snippy. Actually, I got very snippy. This was not my greatest moment. Joey called several locksmiths (both of which were on the phone) and one called us back and said he could be there in half an hour.

With that problem solved, I looked down at our poor hungry dog and noticed that Ernie (Alex's dog) was really wailing on him. In fact, Ernie had Henry pinned entirely under his body and he was sitting on him.

And...there was a big puddle of something that was growing....

"HEY! Ernie is peeing on Henry!!!!" I yelped.

At first, nobody did anything. We were too stymied as to why Ernie would sit on Henry and pee on him. We just stood there and looked at the puddle grow...and grow...and grow...

Finally Mom got her wits about her and said, "Somebody take that dog outside and then put him in his kennel."

Ernie was whisked out of doors.

I gingerly picked up Henny (his back was pretty wet and his tail was even wetter) and carried him up to the bathroom where I whisked up the rug and deposited him on the floor to play until I was able to give him a bath. He did not like the prospect of two baths in one day, nor did he seem to like the idea of being shut up in the bathroom by himself.

But what do you do when your doggy cousin pees all over you and it's time for your dog mommy to have dinner?

So we had dinner, I gave Henry a bath, the locksmith showed up and we paid him (which our insurance should reimburse us for), we ate the pie, opened Alex's presents (once we got them out of the car), and watched a movie.

And now it's way past my bedtime and I have no idea what I'm doing up blogging.

In Which I Open My Mouth and Promptly Insert My Foot

Over the past year, I've finally gotten to the point where I can use Excel without crying and having a nervous breakdown. (Sort of.) I'm great at manipulating the cells, but don't ask me to do any formulas for you. I can do autosum and average, but only because it's got that shortcut button.

This afternoon I was sitting here, happily finishing up a really dismal project, when Maintenance Guy came up to me. He was plaintively holding out a green paper, and looked rather lost.

"Can I help you?" I asked.

"Um....how much do you know about Excel?"

Trying not to lie and yet still sound awesome, indespensible and smart I said, "I've gotten pretty proficient..."

He looked relieved, "Good. Then you can help me figure this out." He whipped out a green Sharpie and began making oddly shaped boxes on the green paper. "I want the difference of these two numbers, but I want it to be in a separate colum."

"No problem," I said, confidently, and began clicking around on my screen. I opened the drop-down Autosum box and, to my great horror and dismay, there was no subtract shortcut!

Quickly, so as to save as much dignity as possible, I started rambling things about how funny that was that there was no shortcut, and let me see if I can dig up the formula. Maintenance Guy was beginning to look doubtful of my intelligence.

Cheerily I said, "Oh look, here's the formula!" and began doing what I thought was correct.

Note: I have never successfully used a formula before. I am one of those people who usually has a calculator to add or subtract columns. I am not proud of this.

After offering up some feverish prayers, and having the formula come out incorrectly three times, I figured out what I was doing wrong. I fixed it and, voila!, there was the answer.

"Oh, that's not what I want. It can't be a negative number," said Maintenance Guy.

"Well, it has to be, the top number is smaller than the bottom number."

"Well that can't be, these are readings from an electrical meter...I guess I don't even know what I want. I'm going to have to come back later."

After all that potential trauma, at least I figured out how to use a formula. And you know what? It wasn't so bad after all. At least I saved face...

Whew

The pie turned out famously. (The cherries wound up looking more like music notes, but it's still cute.) It took me, like, an hour and a half to lay the whole thing out, including the little leaves around the edges.

But at least it's not cherry pie soup!

Cherry Pie

I almost always make a cherry pie for Alex (The Kid) for his birthday. It's like a tradition. Today is his birthday and tomorrow I'm going home for his party!

YAY!!!

Anyway, I made the crust this morning (it takes a bit of trickery to get it to turn out "just so") and it's happily resting in the refrigerator, waiting for me to come home and roll it out. What I'm really excited about is the little cherry cut-outs I have that are especially for pie crusts. (I'm going to use them on the top crust! But anyway.)

Two years ago, I had a cherry pie disaster. When one makes a cherry pie from scratch, one MUST add flour. It's not negotiable. If you don't, you'll wind up with:
a.) cherry pie soup
b.) your dad teasing you unrelentlessly

It is not a good scenario. I'm really paranoid that I'm going to do it again. I've spent the better part of this afternoon combing the Internet for cherry pie recipes so I can compare them to the tried-and-true one from Mom, and so that I can study their ingredients' chemistry. (I'm a cooking nerd.)

Seriously, if I screw this one up I may never be allowed to bake another pie--and I really like to bake pies!! A lot is resting on my shoulders, however low to the ground they may be.

Paranoid

I hate it when you have those moments of Stink, was that really a word, or did I just make that up? when you're talking to people. Particularly people to whom you want to give a professional impression.

Take, for instance, my comment this afternoon: "So it's OK that this is stricken and not deleted, correct?" Instantly I began my mental scramble Is "stricken" really a word? Yes, it is a word just not a common one. Aaaugh! So did I use it incorrectly? Do they think I'm an uneducated boor now?

My mental anguish continued for several minutes until I realized I was just standing there looking dumb. I shook myself, said something brilliant like, "OK. So it's fine that they're stricken. I'll make the copies", and then whisked myself out of the office.

Immediately I got on Dictionary.com and looked up "stricken" just to be sure that I was correct. Yes, it is a word and I did use it correctly.

Third Grade

My lunch bag smells like third grade. It grosses me out, every time I open it and get out my lunch, a distinct third-grade, um, odor just about knocks me over.

Granted, after third grade I was homeschooled until 8th grade, and after that I brought my lunch in brown paper sacks. (We private school kids didn't get to have hot lunch.) Brown paper sacks got disposed of every day and, therefore, could not smell like third grade. (Which was the last time I've smelled this smell.)

Imagine the smell of beef stew, garlic roasted chicken, sour cream lemon chicken, apples, and tacos all marinating in the same bag for months at a time. I can't imagine how grody it would smell if I didn't throw the thing in the washing machine every so often.

It's really starting to nauseate me, though, to the point where it's hard to even open the thing up. I hate to waste paper bags or I'd go back to that just so I can keep my appetite. Gross.

The Kid's Birthday

Last night I finished The Kid's birthday present. (Well, Joey and I together) It's only taken, like, two weeks but we were quite impressed by our work. Sorry, The Kid, you don't get to see it until Friday. Hopefully you think it's as sweet as we do.

Grandma had me order her birthday present for The Kid (so I did), and it finally arrived yesterday. This is the box that it came in.

(Forgive the fact that I look like I swallowed a worm. I was on my way to get my hairs cut.) THE BOX IS GINORMOUS!!! For those of you that know what's actually in the box (this is not you, The Kid), it's a wonder that Amazon actually makes any money since they gave me free shipping. They could have shipped it in a box half that size and it would have still been too big.

Well, The Kid, happy birthday tomorrow. I'm so proud of you for making it 18 entire years with me as your big sister the entire time! See, I got to live 6 years without you but you've never had to (got to?) live without me. Muahahaha.

Happy birthday. Just in time to vote!