Ha ha.

I believe I just heard on the Diane Rehm show from one of the experts that, based on a recent poll of the American people, you have a better chance of being elected President in the coming election if you are homosexual than if you were a member of Bush's Cabinet of Advisors. That makes me laugh.

i may well not make it...

Monday night I felt the beginnings of a cold. You know how you kind of feel the urge to cough and then there is that, well, kind of taste of a cough? When I get dry coughs like this my back also starts to itch. Right in the middle where I can't reach it without contorting my whole body. (And contort my whole body I MUST because those itches MUST be scratched or they will drive me insane!) So, Monday night, dry coughy tasting coughs with itchy back. But it was pretty subtle, so I suspected I had just had a bit of a light cold.

Ahh, how fond my memory of that night is...

Tuesday I got up and went to work as normal. But I could practically FEEL the energy draining out of my body. I had a project at work to finish and decided that I would finish that up and then spend the rest of the day at home sleeping and relaxing this slight cold off. Ha ha. How naive I was. This Sunday I am heavily involved in our church's candlelight service as a reader, and also as a soloist. And this isn't any ordinary solo. This one is a special arrangement of 'Mary Did You Know' written and arranged ESPECIALLY for my voice and a solo cello. So, while also wanting to avoid sickness, I also wanted to be able to read and sing without sounding like a snot bag.

Back to Tuesday. Tuesday at around noon I head home to the well wishes of my gracious coworkers. I lay on the couch the rest of the day deleting old stored shows on the Tivo and watching like a hundred 'Baby Story' type shows. Joel graciously volunteers to go get chinese food for dinner and we watch tv all night. I take our second to last dose of NyQuil and retire at an early hour. That night I decide I would probably rather die than live in the pain I am experiencing. I think to myself "I am probably not going to work tomorrow."

Oh how right I am. Wednesday morning I roll over and look at the clock and decide that work is NOT in the cards. My whole body aches. The pajamas I am wearing scratch my skin. I am cold, but sweating. My throat is swollen and I feel like utter crap. I wake up at 10am, fire an email to work and decide that I might at least feel a bit more comfortable after a nice shower and some clean clothes. Accomplish those tasks. Find some bootleg sudafed - the kind you can get in front of the counter - after searching for what seems like years for a way to get rid of the PAIN. I decide that a day in - even if sick - should not be wasted. I wash all the clothes and towels over the NUMEROUS hours I am at home alone. Joel brings my requested chicken soup and gatorade for lunch. I spend many hours in front of the tv. At night Joel and I fight. A really shitty fight too. I am under the influence of our FINAL DOSE OF NYQUIL.

I cough ALL NIGHT. I do not understand how Joel sleeps. When I wake up, I again pray for death to take me quickly. I am a sucky sick person. I do not roll out of bed when the alarm rings. Instead I hit it and roll over. In the morning, my sickness is taking over my WHOLE body. Still achy, itchy, throat swollen. But now my throat is also scratchy and dry. I want to pour hot liquid down it to burn it. I don't know why this occurs to me and seems like a good idea. Luckily, I resist the urge because I know it is a stupid idea. I decide that there is no way in the world I will last another day with this terrible anguish and I must venture outside the house for the first time in days to get medication. Before I can do that though, I need to take a shower. It made me feel a lot better yesterday. Here is the point where my day got really shitty. How could my sickness/day get shittier?

Go ahead, take a minute to think it over. (Jeopardy theme...)

If you guessed "Liz got her period two weeks early" you got it right and you are the winner of the gold star for today. Though I use the Diva, this is still REALLY ANNOYING and NOT HELPING. So, cleaned, breakfasted and armed with a debit card, I venture out to CVS for drugs, Blockbuster for three movies, and D&W for gatorade and soup for lunch. I tell my well-meaning organized brain to stuff it when it suggests that I get stuff done today. I am sitting my butt on the couch and possibly not moving 'til tonight.

So, here I sit at 1 pm sharing my story and whining to the internet instead of my husband, who doesn't have patience for whining anyway. Hopefully I'll make it 'til tomorrow alive. I am thinking about heavy sedation until the sickness wears off though. Anyone have any suggestions? If you need me, I'll be lying on the couch drinking airborne, sucking down Hall's with medicated centers, and consuming vitamin water until I explode.

why i like to be out of town on thanksgiving

Every year on thanksgiving, my family dresses up as pilgrims. There's a story to it, of course, but that doesn't make it any more acceptable. Suffice it to say that every year more and more people from the church (usually people of the nerdier persuasion) wear the black and white costumes. This has been happening for 4-5 years now.

The first year, I got lucky - I wasn't there. But since then, I do my duty and wear that infernal dress, apron, bonnet and collar piece. And braid my hair in double braids..... I am such a dork.

Even boyfriends (and my husband) have been sucked into this sick tradition. Heck, my brother-in-law wore a pilgrim costume last year and made a video out of it. Everyone thinks this tradition is SO COOL. Except me. I hate it. I loathe it. Now, I'm not above wearing 'different' clothes, or celebrating etc... But pilgrim costumes? No thanks.

My mom makes all the costumes from a pattern she has made herself. Every dress, collar piece, bonnet, apron and other stupid accoutrement has lovingly been made by her own hand.

The problem is that when I tell my mom I really don't want to do it (I mean, I'm 25, she doesn't really have a say about what I do) , she gives me this ...... look. Kind of like "Why would you break my heart like that?" mixed with "How did I ever give birth to YOU?" mixed with "You will shut up and wear this costume" mixed, finally, with "If you don't wear this costume I will have a mental breakdown and you will bear the brunt of it." And inevitably, I am shamed into wearing the dreaded garb - if only to stave off my mother's depression and disappointment in me for just one more year.

It actually kind of makes me hate thanksgiving.....

PS. That picture is my dorky husband. And probably the back end of my mom.

the things that really count

Previously; after the baby shower on Saturday:

Aunt C.: "Would you like the rest of this punch?"
Me: "Sure. Here's a pitcher, you can just throw it in the fridge."

Last night, as we were preparing to sit down to watch Law & Order reruns:

Husband (pulling out a large pitcher of punch from the fridge): "What's this?"
Me: "Oh, Aunt C. left that for us. It's the leftover punch from the baby shower."
BEAT
Husband: "This is just begging to be mixed with alcohol!"

even in this day and age

Can you believe that with all the health scares, and all the health facts available, with all the knowledge we have about how germs work and how they spread, there are still people who enter the movie theatre bathroom, use the facilities and then walk out of the bathroom WITHOUT WASHING THEIR HANDS?

SICK.

here is my new piercing. hopefully you can see it!

eww. that's like, on your face....

So, it's been a while. Probably since about January 20(ish) 2005? But I've finally taken the plunge. I got another piercing.

Last week sometime, my sister IM'd me and invited me to go with her and her roommate to get 'bonding piercings.' (No, old ladies, that is not some sick sort of dirty piercing, it just means they will each get pierced at the same time, well, not at EXACTLY the same time, it just means a trip to the piercer for different piercings to each have a memory together or something....ok, too much explaining...) To make a long story short, they asked if I would go with. Well, I kind of wanted to go too.

I have four total piercings on my left ear, and only two on my right. So, clearly, I am unbalanced (in more than just the mental sense). So, I decided to get my tragus done. And actually, with Joel's encouragement and blessing! The tragus, for those of you unfamiliar with ear part names, is the fleshy cartilage bump between your face and your ear.

The piercing itself was kind of painful, but not nearly as painful or uncomfortable as my nose stud. And the piercer was pretty quick about it.

All in all, I think this is definitely my best piercing. Although it did bleed on the first day, and a tiny bit the night after, the tragus is easy to avoid bumping, and it looks really cool too. And it only hurts when I wink or squinch my eyes. If I had the pictures, and could put them up here, I would. Maybe I'll do it later.

My dad was kind of grossed out. My mom, I think, was secretly jealous. And one of my sisters uttered the gem that is the title of this post.

So that was part of my Friday night. And I am now a little more balanced. Well, outside my head anyway...

i may be more cultured than you

This morning, doing the newspaper crossword puzzle, I successfully filled in clues concerning Charles Dickens' 19th century novel "Great Expectations" and the movie "Star Trek II" within 30 seconds.

That is all.

PS. The answers were "Pip" and "Khan."

two letters: "starbucks is not your babysitter" and "a letter to my body"

Dear Horseface (and the eight little girls you were towing along with you),

Please be aware that Starbucks is a BUSINESS. It is not, as you may think, your personal babysitter. When your six kids hot chocolates come up, please go get them so that they do not block the bar from more important drinks - like my iced grande americano with no water, extra ice and three pumps of white chocolate mocha.

Please do not interrupt the two baristas trying deperately to keep up with other people's orders with your stupid and annoying requests and dumb-ass questions.

Please do not let your children each grab four little espresso to-go cups to put over their hands like mittens and then try to carry their drinks with their hands like that. They will spill them and you will have to go interrupt the baristas YET AGAIN for a towel.

Please tell your children not to grab mountains of pastry samples.

Also, please tell your children to get out of my way while I am trying to order. I should not have to shout my order to the barista over four little blond curly heads.

In conclusion, I hope I NEVER see you at Starbucks again.

Love,
Liz

************************************

Dear period,

Go to hell.

Liz

PS, you can take these cramps, back pains, and pissy mood with you.

40 years is a long time

Recently, I have been reading a feature on the online magazine Slate called "Blogging the Bible." Basically, a writer (who happens to be Jewish) is reading the Bible from beginning to end. He started a few months ago with the book of Genesis. He reads a few chapters and then writes a summary of what he has read - usually chapter by chapter.

It's interesting because it's a different perspective than I'm used to (He's Jewish, I'm Christian Reformed.) I also get to kind of read it along with him, and experience stories I may have forgotten about etc... So, today I was reading the second Deuteronomy entry. It's about one of Moses' final speeches to the Israelites - making an argument to the Israelites about God.

And I got to thinking about wandering the desert for 40 years. 40 years is a long time! It's longer than my lifetime at this moment. In fact, I still have 15 more years to go before I'm 40. And even more than that if you count just the years where I am "aware" of myself!

Sometimes I feel old already. Like, I should have done more with my life by now, or that I am behind where I "should" be. But then I think about things like this, or hear about someone doing something when they are much older than I, and I know how ridiculous I am being.

Oh well, that was kind of scatterbrained, but I'm also listening to a batch of devotionals and I suck at listening and working at the same time. I can NOT listen to music when I work or anything. So, as an end to this...40 years is a long time!

do i look like someone's old aunt gertrude?

Well, I do now. Thanks young hip hairstyling girl with spikey hair, for not doing the style ANYTHING like I said and instead making me look like some matronly aunt.

learning about anemia

I am writing a program about anemia. Today, I came across this little tidbit of information. Enjoy.

"In what can only be described as a disgusting experiment, Castle ate red meat, made himself vomit, and then had patients eat it. But it worked -- his regurgitated stomach contents were as effective as liver. The stomach, he decided, normally contains an "intrinsic factor" that together with an "extrinsic factor" in meat is necessary for red blood cell formation."

Yummy.

buffet: fill your plate with the goodness!

people who are pissing me off today
People who drive 30 mph in a 35 mph zone, then slow down right before the street I need to turn down, but don't turn.
People who park like idiots.
People who start a job (like emptying the trash) and then do not finish it (like replacing the bag in the trash can).

how many mopeds does my dear husband own now?
4. That's right. He bought another one. But it was only fifty bucks! We do not even have room for these mopeds. Anyone need a moped?

VBS
So, this week I am leading the preschoolers at Vacation Bible School. Let me tell you, I had no idea what I was getting myself into. I look at Last Week Me and cry for her future. Don't get me wrong. The kids are SO cute. Seriously. But they also are seriously NUTS.

First of all, I am not trained in any way to be any sort of teacher. I am a performer, but that only takes me so far. So, I have a loud voice, I guess is what I am trying to say. So, I am effective at TALKING to the kids, but not so much at wrangling them. Yes, I used the word WRANGLING. Because that is what you do with them. You do nto gather them, you WRANGLE them.

monday
This day was not so good. The heat was UNBEARABLE outside. But, luckily, we only had to endure this a few times, as preschoolers meet in the (mostly) cool basement. I had 8 kids and 3 helpers (one of which, herself, was almost unbearable...). I was pretty disorganized, but the kids were good. The most fun thing was that we started our own VBS tradition. When we are really antsy we get our wiggles out. We all stand up and do our assigned interpretive dance for the day. (Really) Then, just for good measure we shake our whole selves and get our wiggles out. Then I ask if everyone has their wiggles out yet. One (or all) kid(s) says "NOOOOOO" and then I say "Okay, ONE more time! let's get ALL our wiggles out!" And then we jump and wriggle around for another little bit. The kids LOVE this and we do it now, like, twice a day.

tuesday
This day went fantastically. I was super organized this time. I had spent about 2 hours preparing some sort of "lesson plan." The kids followed my directions and loved the story about David. They followed all of the directions. The weather was also hot as HELL this day.

wednesday
Another hot day. I should have known too that twisting my ankle (before VBS even STARTED) today was a bad omen. The window A/C unit in the basement was NOT ON. The basement was cooler than outside, but when the weather is approaching 100 and you are trying to be energetic and wrangle 10 little sweaty kids around VBS, that is not very comforting. I had sweat DRIPPING down my face. I CANNOT handle the heat AT ALL. Our first "station" today was games. But when we got there, another group showed up. So, we instead went downstairs to do our thing. Unfortunately, this was not in my plan, but I dealt with it. Things went pretty well until snack. That is where everything REALLY WENT WRONG.

Lydia didn't want to make a cookie. But, OK she would make one for her mommy.
Zachary had to go potty. "OK, Mr. Joel, will you take Zachary to the potty?" (ps, I HATE the word "potty") "Mr. Joel, why are you turning bright red?"
"Wait, where did five of the preschoolers go?"
"OK, Noah, you have to go potty too?"
"Molly, don't move! I'll get you some more lemonade."
"Oh my gosh, there is frosting EVERYWHERE."
"Someone needs to take these kids to wash up."
"Umm, ok, all the other groups have left now, snack time is over. Oh my gosh, no one is done eating their cookie yet..."

Finally, we get inside. We sit on our rug.

"Yes?"
"I have to go potty."
"Ok, Mrs. Starr, will you take her to go potty"
Six more little voices and hands go up
"I have to go potty too!" "Me too" "Me too!!" "I have to go potty!"
(Some unheard force encourages the preschoolers to SPREAD)
Inside Monologue: "Why? WHY????? What did I do to deserve this? Two more days. Two more days. I am never leading the preschoolers again. I am not a masochist."
"Ok, two people at a time will go to the potty. Zachary and Molly will you come back to the rug? Ok, every body sit down. Ok, everybody, (blah blah blah lesson talk)"
"Ok, you can go to the potty now."
"I have to go potty again!"
"I am starting the story whether everyone is back from the potty or NOT!"
I start the story...
"There's a bug!!!!"
Lydia gets up and assessess the bug. She decides that her shoe will more than take care of the problem.
calmly: "I'll get it." STOMP. GRIND.
"Uhhh. Thanks Lydia. Good Job, now please sit down."

After the story we pretty much did one little craft and then got our wiggles out, each time wrangling more and more kids b/c everyone would not stay together. I am a complete FAILURE as a preschool teacher. We all end up with scepters made out of pipecleaners, bells, and craft sticks held together with blue painter's tape. HA. Mr. Joel leads the kids jumping through hula hoops and walking around with giant steps, baby steps, spinny steps, and scooting steps. All our butts get dirty.

I am so glad to see them all go home. Two more days. Two more days....

i am a really busy person
I have had the SHORTEST months in history this summer. I am so busy. It was our 1st anniversay a week or two ago, so that weekend was shot. Our house is a disaster area. Last weekend we went to IKEA. We spent a crap load of money and outfitted our back sun porch. Unfortunatly, the weather has been so unbearable that we haven't been able to enjoy it. We take people out there to admire our decorating prowess and warn them before they go out there. "OK, this is what we bought, look at it through the window first. No, trust me, it's REALLY hot out there. Ok, now, I'll open the door, and we'll all go in for just a second and then we 'll come back inside..."

Last Sunday I had my mini break-down because I am going insane with NO relaxation. Our dishes are piling up, and there is no where to put them anymore. Thanks to my wonderful husband who cleans those up! (Hi honey!) And all my clothes (especially those I wear to VBS) are soaked and sweaty. Eww. So, I have to do laundry all the time...

Between now and next week Wednesday I have to drive up and down to Chicago and pack for being gone. I leave next Wednesday for the UK. Ugh. I can't wait for August 20. That is the day after I get back. That day I will sit on my butt. And I will not be moved. And I will watch TV. And I will eat ribs or ice cream or goat cheese and tomato spread or some such wonderful thing. And I WILL NOT BE MOVED.

That's it.

that is why i married him

He says to me this morning:

"If you were to kiss me right now, it would be like kissing a skunk's ass."

Seriously, is there anything more romantic?

why won't you let me buy anything?

Last night I went to the mall prepared to buy as many new cute tank tops as I could get my grubby little hands on. At about 7:30 I set out from my house, giving me about an hour and a half. I was not going to be picky. I was not going to haggle with myself over price. I was not going to look at something I found interesting and then put it back because it was too expensive. I was going to SHOP.

Unfortunately, it didn't work out as I had hoped. In fact, it didn't work out at all. See, I have a pretty tiny waist. But I am by no means skinny. I also have a huge ass. Big Dutch Butt or some such thing. So, tiny waist, big fat ass. So, I have a very curvy, womanly figure. Apparantly, no one else has a figure like this. They don't design clothes for it. The style right now is long skinny tank tops. SCREW long skinny tank tops. They are supposed to follow the curve of your body from top to mid thigh. Guess whose tiny waist and fat ass do not fit into tank tops like these? That's right. Mine.

Argh. No one carries regular tank tops, or in fact, any cute tank tops of any size. So I came home from willing to spend as much money as needed, to spending nothing. Ugh. I hate clothes shopping right now. But I did get a pair of flip flops. Off the internet, when I got home. So there.

the scene of carnage

Just as a disclaimer: We are not dirty people. I promise.

Last night before I went to bed, I happened to be in the kitchen. My eyes happened upon the candy jar - once full of skittles, now holding only about 10. The decrease in skittle number, however, was not what was disturbing to me. Instead, the cause for concern was the moving black blanket that covered every candy in the jar. Ants. Teeny tiny ants. All over the skittles. It was pretty gross. But grosser still were: 1) the lid was on the jar. Umm, how did they get in there? Magic? Transporters? My best guess is that my dear husband did not replace the lid tight enough, thus allowing airholes, and ant entrances. 2) the ants had not confined themselves to only the skittles jar. They were also all over the shelves around the skittles jar, and forming a military line from behind the fridge to said shelves and skittles jar. 3) they were also crawling all around my cats' food. Poor cats, at least they could get some... extra protein?

So, what did I do when I saw this disturbing sight? What any red-blooded, tired, hard-working wife would do. I called my husband and told him to "come look at this." (You see, if I just tell him to come look, it doesn't sound like I'm passing the job off on him. Heh.) So, he came downstairs and actually kind of started freaking out. He does that sometimes. After a bit of discussion about what to do, I kind of got annoyed with his weird ideas, and rather than fight to say my opinion, I just went to bed. He, however, though already having been in bed when I called him, stayed downstairs to obsessively and compulsively track the ants to their entrypoint. We have had ants like this before and got rid of them fairly quickly with some ant traps (They kill the queen where she lives!). Said ant traps are even still sitting in the kitchen... So, long story short, he moved the ant traps to the ant entrypoints as best he could, then finally came to bed.

This morning I went down for breakfast and saw the carnage that was the ants. To be sure, they were not all gone, but a good number lay motionless around the shelf (I keep my food there - shudder). The best part though, was the remains of the feast they had enjoyed shortly before their deaths. The ant traps we use are little plastic dome looking things. Inside, they have a supply of ant food. The food actually contains poison. They bring the poison back to their nest and kill the queen and others in the colony. Well, those ants were busy little guys. There was a fine dusting of reddish brown ant food spread at least an inch on any side of the trap. Just beyond this dusting, lay the carcasses of about 20-30 ants. It was kind of gross. But also kind of cool.

So, tonight we get to come back home to the carnage, and hopefully a few less ants. I hope we've left a warning to them though. Ants had better not mess with us. In fact, maybe we should take a picture and post it by their ant hole as a warning. Just to make sure they don't bother us again. Stupid ants.

so....when?

I have a question. When is it appropriate, if ever, to admit that you have been listening in on a phone conversation to which you have not been invited?

Right now I am listening to my coworker rattle off to her husband on the other end of the line, a list of groceries she needs him to pick up. Well, one of the things she listed was a bag of shredded cheddar cheese. And she said "and I need two cups of that, so make sure you pick up two bags." The thing is, a normal bag of shredded cheese (any flavor) comes standard in a two cup sized bag. So, really she would only need to buy one. Although, sometimes, they come in a three cup sized bag, they never really come in a 1 cup sized bag. Anyway, so I wanted to lean over and tell her that he really only needed to pick up one bag, not two. But then the jig would be up; I would be exposed for the listening tom (?) I am....

I am kind of pathetic.

christmas in july

I kind of hate the fourth of July.

Don't get me wrong, I love the vacation time. And since, my place of employment is so generous, I also got Monday off. So, that was a nice four day weekend. But, the part that really annoys me about the holiday is the fireworks.

I've never really enjoyed fireworks. My mom loves to tell stories about how my younger sister (almost exactly one year younger) used to LOVE to watch the fireworks and hear the loud pops and whistles, while I would hide my head in my mom or dad's shoulder and scream and cry until we could go home. They were scary.

Every year the whole family would travel to grandma's house in Grand Haven, MI, walk downtown, and watch the fireworks with extended family. Except me. I would stay home with grandma and watch the fireworks on TV. I could hear them coming from downtown, while comfortably inside the house, and see them on TV. They didn't seem that special to me. I would rather stay home and help my grandma do dishes than trek a mile or whatever to sit on damp grass, get bitten by bugs, and blow my ears out, just to watch some trash blow up in the sky.

I'm no longer scared of fireworks. But I do kind of consider myself the Scrooge of the fourth of July. Fireworks? Bah. Humbug! Every year stupid kids let off fireworks a few days before, and a few days after the holiday. They obviously wait until midnight, when I am sleeping, and they let off the skyward ones. (Illegally.) Stupid kids.

Last night, on the fourth, we sat in my house in Eastown and listened to the fireworks from Downtown and Cascade compete with each other. Trouble was a little shook up when they started, looking to us, pleading with us, to make it stop. But when the bottle rockets went off next door he had had enough. Trouble jumped off the cabinet and made a beeline to the stairs, skidding on the second step as he ran to safety (we guessed he ran to hide under our bed). It was funny and sad at the same time. Stupid fireworks. Scaring my cat. Just one mroe reason I hate them.

So anyway, round about the last week of June or the first week of July, don't ask about my plans. Don't ask me if I'm going to the fireworks. Because I won't be. Not because I'm scared, not because a traumatic fireworks experience has scarred me for life physically or emotionally, but just because I think they are kind of stupid. And I think they're a waste of time. And they're really loud. Stupid fireworks.

Bah. Humbug.

15 reasons why my husband is the best

1. he is really funny
2. when he is wrong, he often says "i'm sorry."
3. he can only beat me in pool if he's had a few beers
4. he knows that i usually kick his butt at "scrabble," but he'll play it with me anyway, and then lose with grace
5. ditto for "othello"
6. he'll always make me a drink when i ask him to
7. he knows how and likes to plant flowers and plants
8. sometimes he surprises me with how he acts
9. he will do the dishes if i ask him to
10. he always does the trash without complaining
11. he loves kids, and he can always make a baby smile
12. he'll buy me starbucks
13. he is a good kisser
14. he always does his fair share (and more) of making sunday dinner for my whole family
15. he is very generous

+you decide+

1. turn signal?

or

2. turn indicator?

the ONLY thing i miss

I really miss my attached bathroom.

Having a huge house with beautiful wood floors, three porches of various kinds, a garage and a driveway, a finished attic, an enormous basement, new furnace and ac, 4 bedrooms and 2 and a half baths, and I miss my attached bathroom from our crummy, little, all-dingy-white, three room apartment. Seriously, though. There is no curtain on the window in the hall I have to cross from my new bathroom to my bedroom and I don't have a bathrobe. You get the (disturbing) picture. Every day I pray that the house next door has it's blinds shut again. And then I run.

of all places...

So, yesterday was not a good day for me. It was Joel's moped night, so he was gone. And I am not going to unpack more boxes when I am cranky, tired, depressed, and in pain. So, I sat down to watch like 5 Baby Stories (thanks tivo!) and The Wedding Singer (again, tivo? all my love!). Meanwhile I ate a large bowl of Eggo waffle cereal and an ice cream sandwich (thanks Josh!). But that is not really part of this story. Going on.

One of our cats, Pseudo, has a hocking problem. We think he eats his food too fast and his stomach gets upset. Ugh. So, Julia's on tv spilling her guts to her mom in her crisis moment and I hear the telltale gurgles. Eww. Of course the cat is over THE ONLY RUG CURRENTLY SET UP IN THE HOUSE. So, I yell at him to get off, running wildly at him, and perhaps there was a little cursing. (Under my breath, of course...) Stupid cat jumps on a chair and lets it rip. Sigh...

Why is it that he ALWAYS has to find the ONLY carpet to hock on? It's a BRAND NEW jute rug. I can't throw this giant rug in the washer or anything. And I couldn't get all the wet mooshy pieces out of it. So, I had to drag it to the sink (I was in a VERY bad mood) and rinse it off.

And there it sits this morning. Because my absent at that time husband will be taking care of it.

ugly day

I'm having an ugly day.
1. My outfit is SUPPOSED to be cute. It is not FEELING cute.
2. I have zits trying to make their way onto my forehead. Eww.
3. My newly cut hair is NOT behaving. Why can't you flip where I want you to?
4. I am feeling fat.

In addition:
1. I have a headache for some unknown reason.
2. I want coffee and probably will not get any.
3. Getting coffee would make me feel fatter.
4. I do not want to be at work today.

All these things make me feel ugly today. Ugh.

why?

Why is it that whenever I go to buy underwear there is always an old lady looking at the same section - and possibly the same kind? Do I wear grannypants or something?

not doing well...

We are buying a house. Seriously. It is FREAKING nuts. My whole body will not CALM DOWN. It is so much money. Ok. That's all I wanted to say. In fact, that is all I can say.

letter to clear my head

Dear XXXXX

IFEVERYONETALKED...like this, perhaps i (BREATH) WOULDENJOYEDITING yoursound files utidon't. ITMIGHTBEHARD (BREATH) tochangeyourstylebut IDON'TREALLYENJOY you screaming in my ear.

love,

liz

observations on everyday life

There is nothing like a barfing cat to kill an intimate moment.

bucky? really?

Dear Bucky Covington,

I really enjoy watching American Idol. Unfortunately, I do not enjoy watching you. I'm sorry. I'm sure you're a great guy and everything, but I hope you go home tonight.

Love,
Liz

PS, please take Kevin Covais with you.

fat man walking

Hormones, medications, and stress? That, my friends, is a recipe for disaster. Today at work I am reading a news story on the BBC website (http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/americas/4818036.stm) and I almost start crying.

Right.

I am reading about a fat man walking across the US. Yes, his story is inspiring. Yes, it is pretty cool. Is it “cry-worthy?” Apparently.

Depression medications do strange things to your body. I itch. I sweat. I feel nauseated. I am irritable. Add hormones to THAT mix. (stupid T.O. M.) Mix in a pinch of house-buying stress.

Sucker, you're goin' down!

Fat man walking across America? You've got my respect. You've also got my tears. Please keep them.

fo' free

So, connections are good. Seriously. Buying a house with an old kitchen? Ask my dad, kitchen designer and licensed builder for design and installation help. Done.

Need beautiful wood shelves, chairs, entertainment center etc? Enlist the help of Joel's friend Reuben.

Need a cheap book? Call up my mom for 40% off at the Calvin Bookstore.

Need some kickin' cases for a new ipod nano? Ask brother in law Josh to work his magic. Unbelieveably, Josh has contacts all over the world due to his videoblog. One of these connections is a product tester. This product tester has offered Josh products that she is done testing, or that were sent to her for free. She is also VERY generous.

I got an ipod Nano for my birthday. Sweet 25! (NOT from the product tester) (Though she IS very generous) Unfortunately I don't have a case for the little treasure yet. Josh, in all his infinite "connection-ness?" writes his friend up and asks if she has any junk for a Nano. Lo and behold she does! So, this generous lady sent him (and by extension, me) this (of course in pink) and this (in purple) and this (in pink as well). So, now my Nano will not be naked. And that? Is fantastic.