It's a Recessive Trait

"Hey Meg, you know how you feel about velvet?"
"Yes."
"That's how I feel about polar fleece."
"Ew."
"Yeah. It's crawly-creepy."

Then Angelina and Brad Made Me Feel a Little Worse About Myself. Again.

Occasionally, between pieces of generally solid, reputable literature, I indulge myself in an issue of People. Usually they come in the form of a random gift. Get well, Happy Hump Day, Easter Basket, or Stocking Stuffer. The Best/Worst of 2006 issue came in the hat that doubled as a stocking this year as we didn't have time to frost the house with the usual tacky decorations. Or, you know, get a tree. People is the only magazine that I really, well, appreciate isn't the right word. I like the crossword puzzle, and plan on eventually moving up to the NY Times puzzle in my future, more intellectual days.
My question is how Pluto made the list of "Fired in '06" and Spinach made the "2006 Hall of Shame". The Hall of Shame had six things on it. People isn't so classy. You'd think they'd have more people and less vegetables.

Pseudo Sleep, Pseudo Trip, Pseudo Cure.

I'd like to thank the sponsor of last night's 11 most solid hours of sleep in my recent memory: Nyquil. And also the sponsor of the reason Nyquil neglected to actually cure the cold symptoms, and just flush me into a hallucinogenic sleep: Oregon. Pseudoephedrine is the working ingredient in Nyquil and other cold/flu remedy medicines, and as all you meth-addicts know, can be turned into methamphetamine and be smoked uuup. Because 85% of property crime in Oregon is commited by meth addicts, and the state alone represents not only the founding fathers of meth in the US, but remains the sole highest leader in users, pseudoephedrine is now banned in the majority of these products.

I prefer to not be carded when I buy Sudafed, because making sure I am a licenced 18 year old with itchy eyes, scratchy throat, runny nose, and a number of other symptoms seem to drastically change my attitude and therefore appearance. But hey.
My message to the, I'm sure huge, population of meth-user-blog-readers? Don't do meth, because when you wake up from a Nyquil sleep, you will feel just like you've awaken from a long, hard night.
And your nose will still run like Kenyans in the Olympics.

And She Rocked the Rental Shoes and 8 lb Ball

Bowling Champ
Originally uploaded by BananaLoaf.

Christmas was filled with family, singing, filler conversation, chocolate oranges and excitement followed by exhaustion. All of that sentimental crap*. Let's get down to the real stuff. The cousins that we bowl with every year on Christmas day found out about the blog in a lapse of judgement caused by exhaustion and tending to Father for 4 days in the hospital a few weeks back. Tired people do stupid things. Bill, if you're reading this, you're still King Pin in my book. Red team forever. Pound it.
Anyways, they had us for Christmas this year and got each family member a personalized bowling shirt, complete with nicknames like Twisted Sister (The bowler, not the 80s rock group. Disappointment, I know.) and Striker embroidered like real professionals.
Mine? Mine?
Banana Loaf.
I intended on a photo montage, but the digital cam went AWOL and so I spent a solid 1/2 an hour on this .bmp art. Beauty.
And yes, it does look as boxy on me as this paint masterpiece displays it.


*Filler conversation is absolutely sentimental crap.

Take THAT Rig Veda

I am not a competitive person.
I do not mind losing.
Somebody has to be the worst at everything, and I am the best worst at sports. This is okay. I played Thunder* the other day, and did not score a single basket. Not even one. I got out every time, and people simply shrugged, wondering why I was playing in the first place, and why I'm not morbidly obese due to such minimal physical activity. I enjoy a good walk, and now, yoga. I went to a "primary" course last night. Wouldn't you guess that primary would be the easiest? Oops. It's not. But hey. I'll learn the chants, find my Ujjayi breath, and maybe some day I'll be able to do a perpendicular headstand for 2 minutes like that one lady.
Point. Point. Searching for the poooinntt.
Oh, yes. My point is that usually, it's most natural for me to go back to the basics if I've over stepped my skill. Or better yet, pre-basics. But I plan on staying in this primary class. I will not reverse this. I made it through one class minimally returning to child's pose while those around me bent in ways I didn't think possible, and only sometimes mixed up my right and left appendages.
I will do physical activity.
And I will like it.

*Like Lightening in basketball, but you get back in.

I'm Dreaming of Diminishing Non-Renewable Resources...

Christmas is in X minus 7 days. 1 week away, people. And we have yet to see a 1/2 inch of white. I'd like to take this 45 degree Advent as an opportunity to address a very important issue. Why do I live in this freaking state? Oh yes, because when you exit the womb, they stamp your birth certificate, and hand you a less-known document stating that if you stay in Minnesota, you're guaranteed reduced reciprocity rates for going to Eau Claire for a post-secondary education, and you will experience four seasons every year. Travel Minnesota, folks.
Nobody should have to walk this limbo. Unless you are at a Hawaiian-themed party. Which might double as a Baby Jesus birthing party also. Is Al Gore a Christian? Or does he practice self-worship? Either way, he and his high-upper friends should write a sequel to An Inconvenient Truth detailing their plans to re-create the atmosphere of planet Earth. That would be a hit for everybody. Then they could tax us all, and print more money when they run out.
Debt!
Fun!

Gary Likes: The Zoo

Gary Likes: The Zoo
Originally uploaded by BananaLoaf.

Would you believe me if I told you that one of the 1st graders I work with drew this?

The first* documented episode of The Adventures of Gary the Gummy Bear uploaded here.

*See: Rough, Crappy, Blurry.

The Wiggles' Version of Octopus's Garden: Equally Disturbing

Mark (age 8): Who's Dave Matthew's Band?
Me: It's a band that I like a lot, I went to the concert a few months ago.
Mark: Oh. Like The Beatles?
Me: Um, well, sort of, but The Beatles are not The Beatles anymore...they're 50% dead.
Mark: Oh.
Amara (age 7): Ears perk the way a dog's do when you say the w-word. Did you say The Wiggles?!
Me: Oh, no The Beatles.
Amara: Disappointment, like when you were talking about w-o-k, not w-a-l-k. Oh. Well you know, the yellow Wiggle had to stop being a Wiggle.
Me: Oh, really?
Amara: Yep. He wasn't feeling good. He got sick.
Me: Huh. Interesting.
Amara: Satisfaction, pure satisfaction.

Hit or Miss

That Girl and I live by the same principal that you take in with you to TJ Maxx or Marshall's. Sometimes you find amazing shoes, sometimes you don't. Sometimes a creepy foreigner takes a picture up your skirt, sometimes you find great shoes. And sometimes you're funny, sometimes you collect awkward social situations like an elderly woman does cats.

TG: Oh Tim says that all the time.
Innocent Bystander: Who's Tim?
M: That's her pet name for me.
TG: Yep. And She calls me Richard Parker.

Insecure with a Swimming Unit in Gym Class

"In the eighth grade I was the only kid who wore her Halloween costume to the Halloween dance. "
"What'd you go as?"
"A spy."
"Ouch."
"Yeah, middle school is rough on everybody."

Hey, You!

People of the Interweb.
You seem to know things.
Why does brie have that totally nasty skin?

If you don't have the real answer, made up responses are welcome.
A prize to the one I like best.

F*$@ You Lucy, Bag and Bug Do Not Rhyme!

On a scale of 1 to 10, how appropriate is it to call 6 first graders playing rhyme bingo "The Rhymesayers"?

What about when one of them finds the word "fock" and asks if it's a word?

Building Buildings, Peeling Paper

We started to re-do the bathroom this summer. Or at I tore at a strip of wallpaper that was peeling. This was a lot more fun than I thought it would be, and led to naked walls.

Meanwhile, the Galleria started to build a parking ramp at about the same time I tore down the first wallpaper strip. I drove by the Galleria the other day, and people were parking in the 6 story garage while my bathroom walls are still bare.
Ouch.

Among Other Reasons Why We Did Not Form a Famly Band and Tour the Countryside

The thing about being 4th of 4 in the sibling line dance is that one stops getting particularly surprised. Except when, within a week, you discover that Brothers are both pregnant.
With commitment that is.
They have girlfriends which I don't really count as official until I've met them, and properly assessed who they are around their new counterparts. Thus far, I approve. They are both shy and brunette and both have the ability to make the brothers lose sight of what's really going on.
Oh.
And Sister is pregnant.
With child.
And another round of commitment, also I suppose.
She and I share the general fear of being outnumbered by children, for her it's her own kin, but I don't really hold that boundary.
I advised her that if she was going for three, it's ludicrous to stop there.
Because after all, the perfect child is child IV.

Leftovers

I have arrived home from The Family Muffin Giving Thanks Marathon '06. A three-day giving thanks extravaganza.
Thanks to the pilgrims, we are forced at least once a year, to gather with the people who we would love to strangle if given the chance to make it look like an accident.
But, alas, we go. Because there is food. And pie. And we sit around and poke a dead bird, cooking it for an hour for every four pounds (not the vice versa that I suggested at the feast), eat can-shaped berries, and in my case, are forced to eat a rutabaga to see if this is the year I will like them.
And I will not.

Cranking Up the Hearing Aids

There's an opening in our bridge club. I play with the gals on Tuesday nights at 3:30 before supper.
I also got my AARP card in the mail today right after I got the x-ray results which reveal that my hips aren't actually those of a 78 year old woman, but likely just feel like they are because I have bursitis. Which rarely occurs in people under 40 and is the result of high-risk activities such as raking, gardening, and carpentry.
After I set Dr. B straight, assuring him that I do not participate in any sports, that my gardening career has been cut off before it began, and don't jump, dance or generally activate myself often, he brushed it off as a form of arthritis, or inflammation of the bursa.
I'm thinking about asking for my own copies of the films to bring into Perkins to see if I qualify for the 55+ French Toast breakfast. "Here, look at my pelvis. See? Bursitis. I know, I know. I don't look 78, but believe me, I am totally deserving of the 3 slices at the reduced price. Hey. Would you talk to your grandmother that way?"

Bugger!

Remember when I got totally stoked about renting the entire first season of The Office?
And then when I accidentally rented the original, British version of the show, The Office?
And then how I punched my fist through the TV at the annoying accents and complete lack of Steve Carell?
Me too.

Okay, Seriously.

Or at least as serious as one, myself included, can get while blogging.
What do you say when this happens:

Boy 1: "Hey Ms. T...Is Santa real?"
Boy 2: "No, the real Santa is dead."
Girl: "Santa IS real!!"
6 big eyes stare at me in anticipation.

I search for non-religious-in-a-public-school answer.
Then walk away.

Bigger is Better

You Know That Sound That Scissors Make gets a face lift today.

Blogger in Beta and I have started to overcome our differences for the greater good. Or, the Blogger team fixed all the coding holes like not being able to comment on non-Beta blogs. Times are better now. And I wasted an hour of this morning playing with templates, fonts, and colors.

The conclusion:
1. Links which have already been clicked on will now be plum. Because plum is in.
2. Bigger fonts are better because (a) I don't have to wear the reading glasses to read posts. (b) When I post little posts, it looks like more.

I am a Writer, Writer of Facts

Texting Matt
Matt's Calling
Me: Hi...we're...(looks up)
Matt: She's on stage.
Me: She's on stage.
Matt: She's doing a jig.

I paid for a Decemberists concert ticket, but got an unexpected showing of the Superman underpants. Just kidding.
Colin was sick, but in both ways. In the "Colin was so sick last night, he ran off stage before everyone else probably to go throw up in the tour bus before coming back for the encore" way and also in the "Colin rocked so hard last night, it was sick" way.
Also, I made a new best friend and her name is Lisa and she's not actually in the Decemberists, but she can play more instruments than I have fingers and her hair is unbrushed and totally rock and roll and we're best friends.
She maybe just doesn't know it yet.

Ruining Childhoods, One Second Grader at a Time

Me: Oh is this your daughter?
Mrs. N: Yes. This is Emily. Say hi, Emily.
Emily N: Hi.
Me: Hi! I'm glad you're here today.
Emily N: Me too. I don't have success center at my school.
Me: Oh really?
Emily N:Yeah. I came here today just because, and because my mom's the teacher.
Me: Okay, well welcome.
Emily N: Thanks.
Me: So they don't have success center at her school?
Mrs. N: Nope, not until third grade.
Me: Right.
Mrs. N:Yeah, Emily's FOL so we'll be sending her next year.
Me: FOL?
Mrs. N:Foundations of Learning...She needs intervention.
Me: Ohh...(?)
Emily N: Wait, what? I'm going to success center next year?
Mrs. N:Uh....Yes honey.
Emily: WHAT?!
Me: Oh, sorry...
Mrs. N: No, it's just, she just, she struggles, Emily you struggle sometimes, and we work on it at home...
Emily N: I DON'T WANT TO GO!!!!!!!!
Mrs. N:Oh God. I'm sorry. Emily, its just. She just needs intervention.
Emily: AHHHHH! (Pouts in corner for next 60 minutes)
Me: I'm...sorry.
Mrs. N: No. Its just. She needs intervention with reading. Well it's a long explanation.

Shortly thereafter I told Emily she was adopted, that chocolate was a vegetable, and that Santa was a hoax. Then I killed My Little Pony.

Light at the End of the Blog Tunnel

Sometimes you feel like you've blogged all there is to blog.
And then something like this happens:

"I'm sorry guys, I don't speak Guatemalan."

The sun shown through.
And the Blogger formerly known as Lift_Her_Pull_Her blogs once again.

Nature and Nurture Come Together for the First Time

I'm in the market for a new hobby.
Because buying replacement parts for my phone on eBay is getting expensive, and I've simply run out of time to finish plotting the end of the world.
You know how it is.
I think I'll take up gardening. I understand that, depending on which way you look at it, I'm either six months early, or six months late with this, as carrots don't grow when their home is frozen. I don't blame them. I wouldn't either. But, my blood rushes at the thought of going to a gardening store (Do these exist? Must Google.) and getting my very own mini shovel (also Google: correct gardening equipment terms), veggie seeds, gloves and maybe even a gardening apron.
This brings me back to the childhood days when I used to take up sports and activities for the equipment they came with. (See: Swim caps, hockey gloves, volleyball knee pads, gymnastic leotards, and any sport that requires special shoes or equipment bags.)
I plan on growing various beginner veggies, because I don't really appreciate flowers, although they are aesthetically appealing to some, they are not food. At the end of the growing season, I'll make a dinner with the fruits (Veggies. Can I grow fruit? Google.) of my labor.
For you. You're invited.
Come at your own risk.

He Went to the Pumpkin Farm with Jesus

It's probably for the better that when I come home from a weekend away, my muffin pumpkin is gone.
True, I don't like Halloween.
True, I don't like squash or foods in the squash family.
True, I love the word squash, it may be playlist-worthy.
And true, I can imagine that this is how Senorita Cosita felt when she came home and it was like Freckles was never there. He's in a better place, my dear. He lived a long, 14 year, beagle life. Too soon? Apologies.

Coming From The Kid Who Made Her Dad Ring The Bell

Halloween sucks.

Normal kids can go out, knock on doors, retrieve various tooth decay, and go home dressed in a normal witch costume.

Minnesota kids are Eskimo Dorthy, Alaskan zombies, and pirates who sail the Arctic Sea. They're mittens can't grab candy from the basket, and their voices criticizing my muffin pumpkin are muffled by scarves and chattering teeth.
Opening and closing the door lets in a rush of frozen air that pisses me off as much as the doorbell angers the dog.
Except I don't bark.
Most of the time.

When I'm old and motherly, I feel like I still won't have the capacity to treat small, frozen, whiny children with the charm my mother does.
She:
Ring.
Knock.
"Hiiiii! Ohhhh what a scary witch! You look fantastic! Wow! Oh here, little scarecrow, I love you're hat..Have two Butterfingers! Alright! Everybody have some? Okay! Have a great night kids! HAPPY HALLOWEEN!!!!"
I:
Ring.
Knock.
"Hi. Okay. There..One each. Now get your greasy mitts off of our property before I call the cops."

Success is Measured in Strong Platelettes

My purple stick-to-self tape is evidence of the iron supplement I took this morning.
I didn't anticipate that my iron would be up from its' last (and rejected) 37%, as I have not had any extra dead cows or leafy greens, and mentally prepared myself for failure once again.
Blood spun.
Iron was measured.
And 40% may as well be 100%.
And then I started to panic.
Blood Guy told me to settle down or my pulse would keep going up and he'd send me away.
Blood Guy sent me to Blood Gal. She told me to relax, that I'd be fine, and that my blood would enjoy its free joy ride on a teeter-totter. I told my legs and chin to cease the shaking because if they were going to send me away, they were going to send me away for a legitimate, chemical reason. Fear would not get me here.
Blood tubes on my right kept my gaze at lovely, calming, friendly faces. Marissa even documented my fright in photos- blood bag and all. All was wellish. Until I saw Senorita Cosita on a bed, covered in blankets. I squeezed harder to force blood into the tubes to go crack a Ron Burgandy joke to make all well in the world for SC.
My time: 5 Min. 2 Sec.
I stood.
I walked.
I comforted.
I buckled.
And we laid sipping Sprite from straws, knowing that for something to go smoothly and without black-outs, for us, is simply too much to ask.

This Is A Personal Attack At Beep

Things that will give me stress ulcers:

1. Recording voicemail greetings
1. The urgency of that woman
2. The beep-record-pound process. How am I to record a decent song such that I don't have to record my own voice when I'm worried about pound?
3. The 25 seconds of talk time my expired battery allots me.
   
2. Chocolate chips in ice cream.
   
3. Beta-blogger
4. Suitcases
5. Ebay
6. Posting codes that don't follow the proper outline format.

Early Childhood Lessons Teach Tough Love And The Real Meaning Behind Infinity

When little kids need a number line to do 1+3, it's because grasping that it's the same as 3+1 is just too hard.
And yes, 0+0 is much bigger than that. How do you explain to a 2-footer that it really is nothing+nothing?
A number line.
That's how.

"Free plus free is..fo? No. Let me see da white bode. Free...fo..five..six...seben..no. SIX! Six? Six!!" (Waves celebratory digits about)

"Okay. Watch me make da free"
"I'm watching"
"See? Make two bumps. Like dis."
"Oops, that's backwards, try again"
"Oh yeah. I knew dat. [Erasing] Dis eraser is sorta soapy."
"Soapy?"
"Yes. Dat's why it made that yellow line."
"Ohh.."
"Yeah. Okay I'm going to draw lollipops."
"Wait, what about the three?"
"Will you put me inside your coat?"
"Errrm..."
"You're my best friend."
"Do you want red stars for the ones you got right?"
"I love you."

Things That Suck No. 584

Whipping your hair stylishly around completely forgetting you have two semi-heavy glass beads stranded in, until one hits you on the bridge of your nose.

Twice.
In an hour.

My Chain Hangs Low Like The Floor Of The '84 Cutlass In Dusty Rose

Add this to the list of things that I will just never know:

Why GGMA-M's car had B96 as her preset #2.

This Is The Best Day Of My Life Because I Learned What Apostrophe Does

When second graders just don't feel like getting out of bed in the morning to play word finds and read "Iguana", they find means of cheering each other up. Mahkaylah struggled with the word "where" time and time again, while Amara just didn't want to roll the hard consonant dice. Deshawn had a gold-star attitude even after a dice-throwing casualty that landed "cl" right on his forehead. Of course, what better way to boost spirits than to serenade Amara with Dido.

"Amara, what's wrong? It's not so bad. Seriously. It's not so bad, it's not so baaaad. OhhhOHHOHHH It's not so baaad Amara!"

And you know what?
It wasn't so bad.

Things That Suck No. 253

Realizing you've been posting via the "Edit Html" tab and not the "Compose" tab for the last year. I guess I just thought indentation and lists were not really an option.

Lesson learned:
Ignorance is not bliss.
Ignorance keeps features from Muffin.

Because Mittens Don't Reach The Home Row

Its time to venture into the unknown world of functioning thermostats when you're typing with gloves on.

How To

Genuinely embarrass yourself:

Do a 2nd grade math problem wrong.

"6+3+5 isn't 15? Oh yeah. Well, I don't have that many fingers. What's that? Neither do you? Well my shoe size is older than you. Give me your lunch money."

Benny'd Be Proud

Real Catholics show up to mass 1/2 an hour late and leave early to avoid lines at the doughnut table.

I'm About To Have A [Panic Attack] If You Don't Give Me Some Personal Space.

Smells I smelled at the Atmosphere concert last night:
-Shaving Cream
-Tommy Hilfiger Cologne
-Corn Cob Litter. We used to put this in my rabbit's litter box. Memories of him are usually more nostalgic and don't make overpriced lemonade rise in my throat.
-B.O. Which I have gotten sort of attached to just calling "bo". I was unsure about this concert in the first place because I feel like everytime I go to concerts, they always play the songs I don't know, and then I'm only 1/2 the fan as the smelly guy next to me. With the catchy beats, the majority of the standing crowd audience had one or both of their arms in the air waving to the beat, and in all the arm-raising-beat-catching, it fanned all the bo directly outward. Before I knew it, it was like standing in a room filled with middle school kids.

Aside from slight claustrophobia invasions, stupid convenience charges*, and the unnecessary three opening acts, it was a success and I knew most of the songs.


*I would call it convenient if someone gave me 10 bucks for no reason too.

For The Commitment-Fearing, Celebration Is In Order

Happy Blogiversary, YKTSTSM.
For our first year, I wrote you an end rhyme poem.

We've outlasted any diary in which I wrote.
Perhaps on our fifth Blogiversary, we'll celebrate on a boat.
I wrote to you on a semi-daily basis,
Much more than anything in my past, at least in most cases.
So Happy Blogiversary, You Know That Sound That Scissors Make,
From my future, you shall not shake.

He Can Probably Fly Too.

There is no patience like a man who:
Is a kindergarten teacher.
Volunteers to help second grade math before school every morning.
Does bus duty after early morning math.
Runs the mile with his 4th graders.
Takes the 5th graders to overnight Spanish camp.
And has five boys at home.

I'm On Third

Chips: "These cookies are amazing"
Chunks: "Thanks..OH! I put chocolate chunks in them!"
Chips: "Oh, that's okay.."
Chunks: "Wait..do you..you don't like chunks? Are you chips? And I'm chunks?"
Chips: "I'm chips."
Chunks: "I'm chunks?"
Chips: "You're chunks."
Chunks: "Crap."

A Visual Representation Of Emotion. Or An Excuse To Use The Newly Discovered Calligraphy Tip On Paint.

"I Used To Pick Up Shifts As Santa During Christmastime Because Nobody Told Me Not To, And Because Nobody Checked My Background"

I attended a volunteer training for the Catholic church to remind us not to follow suit of our leaders who inappropriately touch young children. It consisted of two video segments with case studies and interviews with the victimized children, their families, and the pervs. To much dismay, the guy who's been luring kids since he was twelve, the girl who got touched by her priest, and the kid who used to go to his camp counselor's apartment every once in awhile, were all paid actors. I'm still slightly bitter as I and about 35 other volunteer trainees invested our emotions into their stories.
Apparently it was Sucker training also.
The video segments were intermissioned by the training representative who deals with said situations. He profiled himself as the text book child predator, being "large and bearded", exclaiming that he knows how to appropriately interact with children without making them or those around believe he is thinking otherwise. Those tall, bearded, or both in the audience were warned.

I learned several things at this particular session. 1) Don't touch kids. 2)Maturity level is not measured in years.

Reasons To Buy Second Hand

1. So that you can compromise your morals to buy velvet shoes
2. Shirts with Jello molds on them

That's all.

To Avoid Any Confusion, This Is The Refrigerator

Legit uses of the 24 pack of Sharpies:

1. Decorating the CDs which now back up my entire music collection and fitting artists to specific colors.
2. Making bubble map of the people I know, matching friends to specific colors.
3. Coming up with various different names for each color, and logging them.
4. Practicing adding a tail to my u's.
5. Experimenting different ways to write my "&" symbol.
6. Labeling things
7. Coloring, designing my new walls

Yougoogalee And Other Zoolander Tales

The other day, after we found out Great Grandma Marion had taken a right down a dead end after 92 years, I was volunteered to help write the eulogy to a woman I didn't know well beyond the elf soap and cat ornaments she'd given me for the past 17 years at Christmas time. I opted to hand over the privilege to motherdearest who grew up with her, and was bound to write a more heart-felt passage than one that uses expressions like "chillin' with J.C. in the clouds" as distraction slang from extreme discomfort.

Some things I learned about GGMA-M (It caught on at the end there...) that are not likely to be repeated in my own eulogy:
-She made Chex Mix years before they came out with it, and years before you could patent recipes. She called it "Party Mix".
-Marion never had a hair out of place.
-She kept everything. Including newspapers from almost everyday.
-She was stylish, sophisticated, and a fabulous cook.

I think I'd actually be fairly accurate in saying that they could 180 GGMA-M's life and call it mine. That'll save someone some time somewhere along the line.

Doctor's Orders

Cut tongue on a yogurt cup trying to lick the excess inside the yogurt cup lip.
Change the common slang of "F-Bomb" to "Effenheimer". Thanks for showing that one to the world, Poppa.
Catch up on this past Oscars' nominees:
-Brokeback Mountain:: I knew Heath Ledger was bound for greatness after 10 Things I Hate About You. I expected less sadness, but still, greatness.
-Capote::Amazing. Probably not designed to learn more about myself. Hm.
-Elizabethtown:: It's amazing that this can hold the same concept as one of my more favorite books (Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close. Read it. Love it.) about finding more about your father because you didn't while he was alive, yet the cinema piece can be such an ENORMOUS LOAD OF CRAP! Shame on you Orlando and Kirsten. Shame on you both.
-The Producers:: Bueller...Bueller...

They Take Me Wisdom

That's right, I've traded all four pieces of my wisdom in exchange for twenty vicodin. I can no longer guide your lives or give out advice beyond this:
1. Ice is cold.
2. Blood tastes bad.
3. Two vicodin are better than one

Keeping Rosie Busy

Watching a mother give her child away to college is similar to what I imagine a very trusty robot malfunctioning as some cruel source sprays water on her mechanisms. The result is performing the everyday tasks over and over again.

Maybe I Had To Look Up The Planet List For This Post, Maybe I Didn't

What?! My world shakes! "Astrophysicists" should have a subtitle line on their business cards that reads "Childhood Killers" followed by a consolation hotline number when they do things like delete a planet. Pluto of all planets! That's the cute, small one! If they're going to get rid of a planet they should consider Mercury or Neptune. Nobody remembers Neptune. Maybe even take Uranus off the record.

Do you like that?
Uranus.
Like butt.
Butt's funny.

Discomfort, Defined.

Things that turn my comfort zone into a landing pad for the suck helicopter:

1. I survived camping enough to get in the car to go home and drop my lifeless phone into a cup of water. Turns out they don't warranty for clumsiness.
2. I got to the cabin just in time to babysit* a 3 year old cousin. To say the least, taking care of small children is not exactly* my forte, and falls just under my ability to tame elephants or time travel. I killed her sunfish that she caught and witnessed her first eulogy as she threw Sunfish back in the lake "so that for the bigger fish can eat him." She thanked him for being a good fish and for being our pet in the blue bucket which was left in the sun. Next to Wormy.
3. A man driving the Naked juice truck around town without his shirt on.
4. Getting pictures taken.
5. This post.


*Suggested words of spell check:
Babysit: Babysat, Pabst
Exaclty: ejaculate, ejaculates, ejaculated, ejaculating, ejaculation, ejaculations

[Insert Sentence Fragment Here]

Agreement in my personal dictionary of indecisiveness and fear is something followed loosely, providing me ample time to flake away from a decision or think through something I neglected earlier along the line.
Apparently, I "agreed" to go camping. This weekend. In the rain. In Ely where a town nearby suffered from 40 degree nights not so many nights ago. In August. The site is one which has slipped under the state park radar (translates: not an actual camp site) and has no "fire pit" or "open ground for tents". It's an island with no "bear control". And bears, apparently, can swim. Who knew? Not this one when she agreed.

When I freeze to death-
No.
When I get mauled by a bear-
No.
When my frozen carcass is eaten by Smoky the fire-preventing bear, please donate my remains to Body Worlds. At least when I go, I'll feel as though I'm part of some sort of elite club.

Major In Royalty, Minor in Communications

If all goes according to plan, and I eventually fulfill my obligation to the throne of Queen of the World, I will send an open letter to the world that goes a little something like this:

Dear People of the World,
Stop leaving.
It is no longer allowed here, as I, your queen, hate the good bye.
Thank you for your cooperation,
Queen Muffin

For Lack Of Blog-Worthy Experiences, Immaturities Exposed Here

"I wish we'd brought more dessert-like things"
"Oh we brought Poppycock."
"..."

"I'm Telling You She Doesn't Like Cantaloupe! If She Says She Does I'll Run Naked Around Your Property." -Uncle Mr. O

Walking into my humble home last night to find the frater playing with his new Magic Bullet to make "the greatest nectarine infused margarita ever" as he spills the Cuervo and asks what a nectarine is. In his 22nd year, this is a more acceptable behavior than what he got away with in high school, thanks to the traditional, Midwestern parenting skills where children abide by the legal system. My lack of posts has been the direct result of time spent at the internet-less cabin with cousins in town from Connecticut where rules aren't particularly rules until the cops come. Coming to the great land of Minny-sood-ah where they make up their own "You know you're in Minnesota when.." as the are directly affected and make up social security numbers to get their fishing licenses.
"Why are you bothering to get that kid a fishing license?"
"Because my kid drinks and smokes pot and if he's gunna go fishing, he's gunna catch a fuckin' legal fish."

Baby Book-Less AND Advice-Less! Youngest Child Treated Better Now Than Ever!

Funny* how one can come in third of the three waterskiing children for the duration of her three year waterskiing career. Also funny how she has received little advice from her bigger, better, balanced brothers as she has spent the last two years trying to successfully slalom without a faceplant-barrel roll combination.
"What are you doing?"
"Putting on my skis"
"They're on the wrong feet."
"Nuh-uh."
"Yup."
"No."
"You ski just like Steven and I and I'm telling you, you're supposed to be dropping your right ski."
"Fine. I try."

She skis. She drops. She slaloms. She flushes time down the pooper. Crap.



*See: not funny.

Why I've Started Carrying Around A Full Sized Notebook

"Dibs on the one [Olson twin] that doesn't have anorexia"
"Good. I like Mary Kate better anyways."
"Seriously?"
"Yes! She has problems. That's quirky. It makes her more real."
"..."
"She's like, 'I'm not above everyone. I do crack. And that's fine.'"
"..."
"The other one's boring!! No problems! That's not real!"
"Didn't she go to college?"
"Whatever."

Time Passes Here.

"Okay I have a confession to make. Sometimes I'm only funny so that I can be on your blog."
"I know."
"Crap."

And They Didn't Even Have Brakes

Roller blading is more fun when:
-You know where you are.
-It's not 10 pm.
-It's not a lightning storm with rain on the way.
-Your destination doesn't appear to be in some sort of alternate galaxy abyss not known to mankind.
-You don't break down on the phone with a very understanding, direction-wise friend.
-The mercury is not above the 100 degree level and you're only wearing jeans because you could only find wrist guards and not knee pads.
-By the time you get to where you're going you can't even eat the chocolate cake that just came out of the oven.

Just Like An Eagle Scout

This Muffin I know went camping last night. She spent the night under the stars cooking hot dogs by a homemade campfire (log-cabin-with-a-tepee-inside style). She went in the woods using the other kind of T.P. and got burrs stuck on her bum. She used Off for campers in the deep woods and made friends with the mosquitoes that flew around her but not on her, except for the one that bit the under of her big toe. She freaked out once when a june bug the size of her thumb landed on her leg, but otherwise tallied zero meltdowns.

Trendy iClothes and Choppy iHaircut Included

Having a clean, white, aesthetically appealing computer is just one giant perk of Macs. I know you, Mr. Mac-Hater. They're just pretty and that sells to this materialistic culture. True. I'm presently blogging via OS X, which has joined muffins, balsamic vinaigrette dressing, and office supplies on my list of top 18 favorite things. At the Mac store today, Steveo and I played with iLife, a totally rock and roll program where you can edit all your media, and hook up to iWeb- a blogging program. Blogger and I have gotten close, despite our linking, picture posting, and bolding dilemmas, we've made it over some pretty rocky roads. But can I simply drag a picture from a file to a post? Could I make a custom color for this page? Or put a video clip right {here} if I wanted? The internet is a beautiful place for rhetorics. Aside from the fact that I'm a right click whore, I'm ready to convert.
On a completely unrelated note, when making a new bookmark for this page, I accidentally saved at http://bananaloaf.blogpot.com. A deadly in-an-ironic-sort-of-way mistake.

Fashion 911, A Non-Truth.

There is no such thing as urgent mail from Cosmopolitan.

I Live A Good Life Because In Hell, I Am Forced To Host Parties

Number of:

Old people who said, "I didn't even recognize you! I haven't seen you since...Oh Lordy! I can't even...": 4
Times I hid from people: 6
Stress-related meltdowns: 1
Crock-Pots: 7
Crock-Pots with uncooked beans which were still served and eaten: 1
Times someone asked if the stress-rash was sunburn: 2
Cousins I have who I can't remember if her name is Emily or Ellie: 1
Times I heard this conversation from a 6, 9, and 10 year old sibling set:
6: I'm a jedi master.
9: My name is Carly.
10: What animal do I look like?
6: A giant eyeball.
10: A lemur? Say lemur!
6: I look like a jedi master.
9: You look like an eyeball.
Enough to make my head pound.

Bob's Zit

A story* by Muffin in an undated time, approximately the third grade.

Once upon a time there was a guy. But this was no ordinary guy, this was Bob. Bob would go through many difficulties and greaticulties. This was a difficulty.
One day as Bob got out of the shower and went in to his room, he went over to the radio and turned it on. To Bob's surprise, the radio burst into song singing, "Cheddar, get down baby, cheddar!" It was Bob's favorite band, The Moldy Cheese singing his favorite song, "Cheddar". Bob was so thrilled he decided to dress to the tune. As Bob unraveled his teddy towel, he got out his special edition under-dog undies and began to up them on in front of his mirror, when all of the sudden, Bob felt as though he was in a horror movie. He noticed an incredibly large, cherry-red bump on the left side of his butt. Bob did not understand. He has always taken such good care of his beloved butt. Bob needed advice, and fast. He called for his pet chameleon, Fred. Fred came loafing (!) into the room, saw Bob's butt, and loafed out.
Bob sat down in his lazy boy chair and began to cry. Bob cried and cried for about ten minutes until his brain worked up a plan. He would call his friend Tutti. He picked up the phone and dialed. As the phone rang, bob tried to sniffle away all his tears and the mucus that had gathered in the back of his throat. Someone picked up the ringing phone and Bob started sobbing. Bob finally finished with "And I need your help!" He waited for an answer from who he thought was Tutti. "You must want Tutti." said the voice. Bob felt so embarrassed he wanted to cry all over again.


*I've always loved writing, but grew up with little writing endurance. I started many a story, but never finished, as exemplified here.

Addition

In the past week, many additions have been added to various parts of the world.
This is how I will catch you up on my absent, non-blogging behaviors.

1. A bug the size of a small finger has been added to the list of things Colleen has eaten recently (along with a Mancala bead, an olive pit, and a carnation).
2. Blister fluid was added to my face for a period of time. The blister was not my own and apparently squeezing and popping is not an affective way to drain lest you wish it's juice in your eyes.
3. A new friendship bracelet. While others weaved thirty strings together in elaborate patterns, I tied a piece of green floss around my wrist. I'm a simplest.
4. More freckles, which, after extensive research, I have concluded are not prevented by sunscreen.
5. An increasing pile of evidence at my anti-outdoors-edness which is nearing the kid who quoted this:
Enters blow up obstacle course. Makes it over hill, through pillars. Gets to top of second hill when he falls, in attempt to get through the tunnel at the end.
"My pants! They're falling off!"
Flailing.
"My pants!!"
Second pair starts race and gets over second hill where Indoor Kid is stuck trying to pull up his pants and cannot get through the tunnel.
"Dude you're still in here?"
"Just give me a second!"
"Come onnnn"
"My pants!"
Rolls out of tunnel.
"I'm kind of an indoor kid.."

Motivation

I Would Give You Context, But Nothing Can Save This

"I hope you don't mind that I have...genitalia."
Blink.
"Wait..I meant..herpes...you know...of the genitals..?"
Blink.
"Okay I have a serious question."
"Okay."
"Do girls have genitalia?"

Nice To Meet You, You're Copper.

It's true that new friends think you're more funny than:
1. The friends you've had for years
2. People on the street/strangers
3. You probably are

It's really only a matter of time before the sympathy laugh dies down and they realize they don't have to tell me..erhm..you that you're good at DDR. This game was not meant for those with poor balance.

When I Fall Off The Boat, I Will Float, Perhaps In A Moat.

Truth: I do not own many articles of clothing which are pink.

It's not that I don't like the color. I do. My walls were a high-gloss bubble gum pink until I was 13. But I have been told that I am somewhat of an "anti-pink" when it comes to wearing it. So as my little way of sticking it to the man, should I suddenly fall into a lake, the U.S. coast guard approves my new pink life jacket. It shall float me.

Things I Learned At The Wedding Last Night

1. I never want to dance to "My Humps" with my father again.
2. It's weird when the extended family finds out about the blog. Especially when some aunts begin to yell "Hey! Blog this!!!" as they invent a new dance move.
3. 4 am is not an hour to be awake at.
4. It's a bit oxy-moronic that the best tequila has worms in the bottom.
5. I never want to dance to "My Humps" with my father again.

Things I Thought This Morning, A Drama

Momma: Hey, uh, hun..there's a man here. You should get up.

Errhmmmm...? Eye slits open

Momma: He's putting in a cable and needs to get into the crawl space in your closet...

Errhmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm

(Man enters)

Aghh! I try to figure out if my dream about the friends I dined with last night making fun of my sheets was real as a tall man starts to take my things out of my closet, steps on top of my stack of dirty clothes and puts closet stuffings on top of me. Feelings of violation begin.

Man: Now there might be some dust and insulation and stuff that might come outta here, so just to, uh, you know let you know. He avoids eye contact

Rolls over. Dies.
Scene.

Anti-P.D.P. (Public Displays of Patriotism)

Fireworks are too loud.
While having an BBQ dinner with The Family Moodie, Colleen shared my distaste by exclaiming that it "reminded her of 'Nam" and proceeded to take cover under her arms.
What do booming tubes of fire and colors have to do with independence other than that between my hearing and rest of self?
It's 10:30 and I am going to bed.
Happy Freakin' Fourth of July.

"I really like Maggie, but then Sarena sat on me and now they're both mad and I need you to tell me what to do" or Why There Have Been 6 Blank Days

An impromptu camp trip claimed this past week's blogging opportunities so I could teach junior high girls that God even cares that you don't like Ross the way he likes you. There was little sleep, a high (so very high) overdosage on Daniel Powter, James Blunt, and the High School Musical Soundtrack, and I am now sporting a coat of silver chrome nail polish which makes me want to pursue some long lost aspirations to walk the moon some day. I came across two discoveries. 1. My independence quota is generally measured and fulfilled in direct relation to the amount of time spent with junior high kids. 2. There is no reason that one woman should own 98 of those giant 64 oz. plastic mugs. "Because I'm a youth minister and a motivational speaker" is not reason enough.

Link Me Crazy, Juarez 2k6

Juarez was its usual self, poverty stricken and populated with happy people and kids you want to pack in your suitcase and stuff in the overhead compartment.
Two days were spent building a casa, we laid foundation with cement that did not come from a barrel-truck but from piles on the ground that we made from scratch. The other two were spent hosting a kids club for the surrounding area. I was a part of the arts and crafts group, my forte when the other options are songs and outdoor games for Club de Ninos (Cloob day Neen-yos). I came home with Bill my popsicle stick friend and the craft for the 5-7 year olds.
Bill likes not having a mouth, being in his Birthday Suit, and looking like a Vegas show girl.
There was less battery acid this time around, but more bloody noses (Nine of these in three days).

I'd like to thank the following sponsors that made this past week possible:
Kandoo Wipes
The Old Folk Patrons at St. Pats
Kleenex Corp.
Bag Cereal
Blood
Artificial Sleep
Mike the Christian bus driver that has seen the grace of God by speeding the whole night.
A man who is from the South but does not like to be called Southern and uses too many adjectives and adverbs to gather content from his words beyond the above.
The "if it's brown, flush it down" policy

I Am Convinced That The Only Reason Wal-Mart Is Successful Is Because They're Open 24 Hours.

The Panicky Packing Moments have begun.
I leave for Mexico early Saturday morning to help the good people of Juar Ez but not before driving (Yes, driving. For thirty hours. 3-0.) down with 50 of my closest* friends on a bus which initially looks cool because of the sweet design on the seats and TV's, but ends up being a sweaty mess of disgusting, old air. Tonight I will get little sleep but more than tomorrow night as I rake through my head of everything I need to bring, buy, pack, and not forget.
"What if it rains? Do I need a poncho? No they don't get rain. Wait is it hurricane season? Are we by the ocean down there? Which is the closest ocean? Crap, what ocean is it? Atlantic? No Pacific. I'm sure its Pacific. So I should bring extra shirts then in case mine get dirty and smelly from the hurricane. And probably extra deodorant for all the sweat. I wonder if I have any extra. [Checks] Oh God. I need to go to Target..."

*In spatial proximity. Because of the sweat bus.

Tidal Wave Trends

The sunglasses are officially too big when the woman sitting behind you at the commencement ceremony asks you to take them off your head so that she can watch her child walk across the stage.

The Apple Doesn't Fall Too Far From The Tree

Me: "I hate raspberry vinaigrette dressing because first of all, it is too sweet. And second of all, because grandma gave it to me once and it had been sitting in her fridge for almost a year."
Momma: "That's how I feel about tequila sunrises."

Have You Ever Met Someone Who Thought Their Family Was Completely Normal? Me Neither.

Tis the season for graduation parties once again. They all are just a whirlwind over my head, seeing the same people at most of them. I decided to spice up a particular Muffin cousin's fiesta by bringing Colleen. We walked in to Gram and Great-Gram chatting away, cocktails in hand when I introduced her. Shortly followed was an explanation on how Gramma's head sweats when she works in the yard and then the procedure for perms (or "permanents" as she says). G-Gram Marion proceeded to ask us our opinions on the immigration conflict, as we are going to Mexico shortly. When I told her that I didn't think building a retaining wall was the answer, she insisted that I made that up. We carried on outside to find the magician who magically directed us to Ben and Jerry, some old and familiar friends, and their cart of delicious ice cream. Uncle Bill, who was standing a little too close for comfort to the fire insisted that Colleen, though this was the first time he'd met her and probably hadn't heard this story, was always welcome and it was the more the merrier at his casa.

The Lotiony Texture Is Sometimes Nice But Sometimes Feels Used

It is time to buy toilet paper when everyone in the household is wiping with lotion tissues.

Honest Mistake Of A Working Mother Or Why My Middle School Years Were Awkward And Shy

When you look up nostalgia in the dictionary, there is pictures of people visiting their kindergarten classroom. When I went back to good ol' Countryside Elementary today to find the halls smaller, drinking fountains shorter, and faces of a bubble monster on every soap dispenser, I ventured in to a nearly foreign room that was, once upon a time, Ms. Eranie's AM Kindergarten classroom. The coat room that once looked as big as the classroom itself, I realize only measures about a grown-person's arm span and I hit my shin on the cubby hole I once reached up to get at. The center of the room brought back some happy memories of story time and learning about three letter words, but also a particular episode of story time. Mother Dearest had volunteered to come read a book to the class, and came in with my favorite book, "Good Night Opus". Having your mom come into read to the class was the biggest deal since Lucky Tray Day except with more vulnerability. The class who was known for being particularly critical, approved the book. But when she came back a few weeks later, you can imagine my horror when she pulled "Good Night Opus" out of her briefcase. She started. I blushed. They laughed. Oh, how they laughed.

Happiness Is

Watching the cutest baby ever eat his first muffin.

And The Awar- Ahem..Calzone Goes To...Larry B!

You'd probably be surprised at how excited people get about picking up their pizzas on a Saturday night. Clearly they've had a long day of getting up late, thinking about mowing the lawn, laying out in the hot instead, and at about 6:30 decide to peel themselves off the lawn chair, hop in the Mercedes, and pick up the two large pizzas. But I guess that's not really the amazing part about this repetitive scenario. It's really when Joe Somebody comes in to pick them up, they come up to the call ahead counter and really, truly, think that they have the best and only pizza in the world. Its very exciting for them. They nearly skip up to register and exclaim "2 Large Hand Tossed for Larry B!" often attempting to get in on the pizza-shop lingo. When I meekly tell them that it will be $24.13, they pull out the plastic and lean to the left to try and see if its on the rack. Its curious because if its up there waiting, they question if its warm, and if not they get flustered and want to know why. After the Visa Platinum is proudly slid across the counter, swiped and returned, they sign the store copy like a star-struck fan has just asked them for their autograph. At last, pizza in hand, Larry struts out the door knowingly nodding at the rest of the Joe Somebody's who are restlessly waiting in line.

Re-Facing The Morning After Pill

"Last night I had the scariest dream EVER. Seriously. Ever. I dreamt that you and I went to this restaurant and I ordered buffalo wings and I ate so many of them that I got pregnant."

Not Just An Alicia Keys Song

It's bad karma to gloat about finding $5 in the laundry to Pop.
Because later, you will loose it.

Preheating Muffin

I've found that the best way to motivate myself to clean my room is when some member of the family calls to say that an inspector is coming put an estimate on the house in two hours. And the best part about cleaning my room, besides finding enough bobby pins to firmly hold back all the wool on a sheep, is when I stumble upon memories from my childhood.

"The chefs of room 102 present: Our Favorite Recipes"
{1st Grade}


Strawberry Pie
By Jess S.

Ingredients:
22 Strawberries
8 cups of sugar
1 1/2 cups of milk
2 eggs
2 pounds of chocolate
Directions:
Next you smoosh up the strawberries. Then you pour in 3 1/2 cups of flower. Stir all of it in a bowl.
Bake:
Put it in hte oven at 25 degrees C. Then bake it for 22 minutes. Take it out and enjoy it after it cools.

Pickles
By Alex W.

Ingredients:
10 baby cucumbers
1 1/2 pounds of water
About 5 little white things
Directions:
First wash the cucumbers in fresh water. Put the cucumbers and 5 little white things in a jar full of fresh water and wait for about 1 month. Taste it. If it does not taste like a pickle put it back and wait for another month. Then it is for sure ready.

Cookie Dough
By: Muffin T.

Ingredients:
1 cup flour
1 stick butter
2 eggs
2 tsp. brown sugar
1 tsp. white sugar
1/2 cup baking soda
1 cup milk
Directions:
First pour the flour and butter into a mixing bowl. Add brown sugar and white sugar. Then add milk and stir until it is all mushy. Then add the eggs and the baking soda. Stir it until it is all mushy. Then eat it!

Extra Cheesy Macaroni
By Christine J.

Ingredients:
1000 1/2 cups of cheese
100 cups of butter
100 1/2 cups of sugar
Directions:
Take a macaroni pan and stir the ingredients all together.
Bake:
Put them in the oven at 100 degrees for 15 minutes. Take it out and eat it.

Chocolate Bars
By Dan H.

Ingredients:
1 cup chocolate
5 nuts
1 cup caramel
Directions:
Put the nuts in an empty butter holder. Then cover with caramel. Then put choclate all over it. Then put top on the container. Then put it in the freezer for 10 minutes. Then eat.

Cheese Pizza
By Jacqui S.

Ingredients:
1 pack of cheese
1 pack of butter
1 spoonful sauce
1 pound bread
Directions:
Put the butter and the bread on a pan. And then put the sauce on top of the bread. And then put the cheese on top.
Bake:
Bake it for 15 minutes at 20 degrees. Take it out of the oven. Then eat it.

Chocolate Chip Cookies
By Shannon M.

Ingredients:
2 eggs
2 1/2 pounds flour
2/3 teaspoons milk
Directions:
Mix eggs in a mixing bowl. Put flour in the mixing bowl. Put milk in the mixing bowl. Mix it up with a blender for 25 minutes.
Bake:
Cook for 20 minutes at 20 degrees. Put dough in the oven. Put dough on cookie sheet. Then eat it.

Hot Dogs
By Kristen H.

Ingredients:
1/2 cup salami
3 cups hot water.
Directions:
Roll the salami into a fat worm. Put the hot dog and water into a pan. Then put the pan on the stove. Turn on the stove for 10 minutes on medium. Then take it out. Then eat.

Chocolate Chip Cookies
By Peter B.

Ingredients:
2 scoops of flour
80 chocolate chips
3 eggs
1 bowl
1 spoon
a whole thing of sprinkles
Directions:
You put the chocolate chips in the bowl. Then you put in the sprinkles. And then you mix for 1 minutes. When the 1 minute is up, add the eggs and the flour. Then you mix it for 3 minutes with a spoon.
Bake:
You squish up the dough stuff and put it on the pan thingy. Bake it for 20 minutes at 19 degrees. Eat it.

Stubby

Dear Feet,

Its been real.

-Me.

The Measure Of A Man Is In His Spit

After a five hour Saturday night shift, the last thing one wants to do is clean up the chewing tobacco spit cups of the varsity baseball team. Or scrape their napkin spit balls which are pasted to the table and surrounding walls.

M-i-Crooked Letter-Crooked Letter-i-...

I canoed two miles down the Mighty Mississippi today.
Some anti-highlights (lowlights?):
-First burn of the season. Although I'm pretty sure I could sit near a lamp and get burnt if someone told my skin that it was being exposed to UV rays.
-More freckles. Always more freckles.
-The wilderness leader woman in the back trying to get our boat to sing in rounds.
-The general negativity of our boat.
-A left arm that hurts like crap.

A Parallel

Over lunch, Alex and I discussed the anticipation for reading Life of Pi (scheduled reading: Summer '06) and how certain Muffin family members think its "boring". Coming from two who have not read it yet still, somehow, maintain a bias, she said it perfectly.

"Life of Pi?! Its about a guy and a tiger! Its like Calvin and Hobbs! What could be boring about that?" -Alexandra Nicole

Save It For A Rainy Day

This is documentation of my first lawn-mowing experience. I went outside to help Dad, who although looks at his new mower with the power of 6.7 horses with pride and joy, is getting old and needs help. And she's self propelled so all I really have to do is guide her, watch my itty-bitties turn green, and soak up the smell of freshly cut grass that I could just bottle up and put in a Scented Oil Plug-In.

Episode 2

In his free time, Gary enjoys climbing the tree outside and trying to figure out what the yellow is.
"That tree is my Everest." -Gary

Commercial America

A string of commercials just witnessed:

Some seriously freaky puppies singing about fleas.

A woman celebrating her spraying salad dressing by throwing lettuce all over herself.

How this mothers day, Mom doesn't just deserve flowers, but a KFC also.
Can I ask you, Colonel, what milestone she's passed this year to deserve arteriosclerosis in a bucket and mega size mashed potatoes?

How braided string tampons make you want to go white water rafting.

Pleeeeaseee, St. Pete!

I have a feeling that when I pass through the lukewarm gates to Purgatory, the ultimate assessment of my resistance to temptation will be tested in the form of a bubble blister.

Episode 1

Gary Likes:
Getting the milk delivered.
"It's pretty much the highlight of my Mondays. John [the milkman] and I are pretty tight.."
-Gary

Consumer Report

Dear Ghirardelli Chocolate Company,

I am a consumer of your Triple Chocolate Premium Mix Brownies, and am quite satisfied with your product. They are both fudgey and "luxuriously rich". As a satisfied customer, I just wanted to put forth a question. What were you thinking when you instructed me to "blend water and oil"? If my mother and 9th grade physics teacher hadn't taught me right, I would still be in the kitchen trying to combine the two.

Respectfully,

Muffin

Success Story

I got my hair cut today. (All of them Daddy, not just one...)
And I am very proud to say that there were no tears shed.
My organs almost came up my esophogus, but not one tear rolled down my cheek.
My locks and trust were in Carol's hand, and I took to calling her Quiet Carol in my head, because she didn't say much except for at one point when I was wondering if she could hear my heart beating when she looked at me and said, "Are you like, freaking out or something?" "Yes."

The Adventures of Gary

For his 51st, my dad got the only thing he ever really wants for a gift-giving holiday: a six pound bag of gummy bears. We were about a pound in when I found out that upon licking them, they stick most places.
Some places gummies stick:
Steven's face
The bay window
The dog
The computer screen
Colleen's dashboard
Colleen's face

This is clearly an action-packed picture book in the making.
Updates and potential pictures to come.

Milking It

Me: [Answers phone] Hi Dad.
Dad: Hey...[chuckle]...'Sup?
Me: It's getting old, Pops, but I'm fine..How're you?
Dad: I'm good...Hey..Where you at?
Me: Wow.
Dad: [Chuckle]
>Click<

"My Teeth Hurt From Chattering The Entire Night. Thank You Jesus, For Sleep Aid." -8/21/05

Tomorrow as a pseudo-homelessness awareness activity, there's a sleep out in which we sleep outside on a church grassland with many layers, sleeping compartments, and pizza (just like they do on the streets). I would have high hopes for the night, had my last spent under the stars not been a fiery hell. And by fiery hell I mean it was freezing and the pope was there. We spent a night outside with literally (seriously, literally, not in the annoying non-literal-literal way) a million other people from all over the world and Pope Benny. That's the kind of thing that you hear about, and think "Wow! That's such a neat idea! I wish I had gotten that kind of opportunity!". And somewhere out there, there's a black-market, underground behind-the-scenes video of World Youth Day Candle Light Vigil '05. If I could directly link you all to my journal entry of August 21st, I would, but this is a family site. And also I have yet to learn how to link from different planes of communication.

Learning Opportunities: 4/26/06

Wendy's does not offer Frostys "extra cold"

Nor do they have insulated freezer bags to keep them frosty.

You should always think twice before going into Taco Bell after an ambulance pulls out. Then continue on in.

To The Cynic, Half Empty.

My dad sent me one of those stereotypical old person (bless your fifty-one-and-one-day year old soul, Daddy) emails about some woman dying and wanting to be buried with a fork in her hand because when she was at potlucks as a kid, her grandma always told her to keep her fork after the main dish because the best was yet to come and she knew that when she died the best was yet to come or some bull shit like that. In response to Sriracha's* comment; Fruit on the Bottom yogurt is my little reminder that the worst is yet to come.



*Notice the link? Courtesy of Sri, Linking Guru.

Culinary-Wise.

Is there anything more annoying than...

Fruit on the Bottom Yogurt?

The white part of oranges?

When you're the first to use the ketchup and you get the ketchup juice?

This Is My Demographic; "Likes Muffins, Low Plot Capacity When The Title Is About Muffins, Can't Spell, Guinea Pigs Die."

GOODBYE, MR. MUFFIN
By Claus Mandøe
Based on a children's book by Ulf Nilsson
Created and performed by Teater Refleksion of Denmark
Directed by Bjarne Sandborg
On the Cargill Stage
February 13 - March 11, 2007
Most enjoyed by ages 2-5

Mr. Muffin's not just a guinea pig. He's a good friend, loving husband, doting dad. But now he lives by himself in his little house. Though he gets visitors and mail. He loves getting mail. And he's an absolute nut for almonds. Such amusing adventures he's had. You'll see. Like the time he and his family dared go outside. Or when he set the world record for lifting a cucumber. Those were the days, Mr. Muffin reminisces. Mr. Muffin could be any child's pet Fluffy or Spot. This sweet, gentle, touching puppet tale honors the life and death of every dear pet. And helps a little one say "goodbye."

http://www.childrenstheatre.org/onstage_next.html


How can this be bad? The guinea pig's name is Mr. Muffin. It's most enjoyed by ages 2-5, and I just spell it 'i-n-j-o-y-e-d' and almost kept it. I won't let my fear of guinea pigs stand in my way. But seriously, they look nothing like pigs.

Click For [Insert World Issue]

www.thehungersite.com

Each hit on this website (once a day per computer) contributes 1.1 cups of food to the starving in 3rd world countries from the sponsors of the site. By clicking you can link to their 5 other issues that they're funding;

Breast Cancer (funds mammograms for women in need)
Child Health Care (funds health care for children in need),
Literacy (books to children to improve international literacy),
Rainforest Restoration (11.4 feet of rainforest protected),
and Animal Rescue (funds for food in animal shelters).

Its sweet, easy and you can feel good.
So go forth, and click.

Travel Minnesota

Because even in April, you can get mosquito bites.

How To:

Kill An Arachnid In The Shower:

1. Jump out, still lathering shampoo.
2. Spray Old Spice High Endurance Deodorant Body Spray (more commonly known as 'boy in a spray can') on spider.
3. Hit confused and now contaminated spider with someone else's shampoo bottle.
4. Turn off the water and watch spider go down the drain.
5. Run water to make sure he's not a creeper.
6. Get back in, rinse.

It's On The D.L.

Okay, people of the WWW, this is top secret, but the brother has a blog. Until further notice, its at an undisclosed URL. He is in the phase, which we are all familiar with, where the blog is top secret and nobody is allowed to know about it except for the one who found it opened on the computer screen (so sloppy). Until he outgrows Top Secret Blog Phase, I will continue to feel weird, and will be keeping you posted on his blog growth.

This Too, Shall Pass

I had a level 2 or so epiphany this morning when I was thinking about the phenomenal irritability that I have with new expressions* such as "probs", "mabes", "probskies", "whatevskies", etc (all of which I heard yesterday). But what if we could physically only speak words in the dictionary? What would we call each other?

*None of which are recognized by the Blogger spell check, but that's actually not very reliable...How does the Blogger spell check not recognize the word "blog"?

From The Archives of "Notes"

Thank you T9 for making the following possible:


"{Drinking Gatorade} I feel like I'm drinking liquid Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles!"
-Colleen

"Little People aren't even little anymore! They're like...Medium People"
-Mother

"Last night I spent like 10 minutes looking at a lemon bar" {No context}
-Kate

"I love pulling through [when in a parking lot], it's like having a baby!"
-Colleen

{After a conversation about the word 'probably'} "Crap, now I'm trying to look up the word 'probably' in the cookbook index instead of beef brisket"
-Mother

2001*: A Flashback

>Phone Rings

Me: (answers)
Dad: Hey Pumpkin
Me: Hey
Dad: Sup?
Me: (snort)

*I realize that I have a knack/habit of dating things that are not in the present. Maybe that's my 'thing'. Do you suppose I might be able to do that professionally some day? "Wow..that is so 1997..". I like to keep my options boundary and duty-free.

Day 4: Spring Break '06

Forecast:

-Cloudy with a chance of Purple Rain

-Left over Pad Thai

-Boredommmmm

Peter Pans Of The 21st Century

The cabin was lent to a group of around 10 "young adults" (as they so choose to be called) in the general demographic of 20-30 years this weekend. I suspect a relaxing weekend of not-much, as most tend to be spent there.

We went up late last night to turn off the heat, clean and inspect the damage. It was actually really, unsurprisingly clean, as they are quite the tidy bunch. The only evidence that they'd been there:

"Ernest Goes To Camp" was left in the DVD player.

Pizza Pizza.

I definitely believe in a generation gaps.

Some acceptable generation gaps:
-Little Ceasar's Pizza
-Roseanne
-Giant glasses
-The Juicy Fruit Gum Theme Song (?)
-Leave It To Beaver


But this is so far beyond that, it cannot be excused;

"Hey, does anybody know if John Lennon was in The Beatles?"

Rejected.

Okay, I'm no Popeye, but iron, she runs in my veins.
Maybe not you're "necessary 38%" but c'mon. I stayed out of the world hot-spots, I ate a healthy breakfast AND lunch, and, thank you very much, am not HIV Positive.

You need 38.
I had 37.
I have nothing left to give, Memorial Blood Centers.
Now if you'll excuse me, I have to run out and buy Flinstones with Iron (As per Wendy PricksYourFinger's recommendation).
Psh.

Sign This.

While a group of girls chatters amongst themselves, dropping their failing sign language finals into the trash, they gossip about some girl they hate--I know, girl hatred in The Bubble--warn the press. Anyways, they rip apart some poor girl like vultures to a zebra carcass when it gets personal. I'm sitting there, completely vacuumed into to "The Time Travelers Wife" (if you haven't read this go, now) when I hear them openly yell, "All Megans are bitches", completely oblivious to myself, sitting a row behind them, or really anyone else in their worlds so small I sometimes wonder how they fit each other inside. I didn't look up, because out of the corner of my eye I could see one of them lean back and they were quiet for a second, obviously more or less realizing what they'd just said as one of them tries to save it with "..uh..except NICE Megans...". Were Henry and Clare not so intriguing, the mental glare would have prolonged.

Exchanging Dora Jumpsuit For Business-Casual

Why is it, that whenever we are talking to anyone under the age of 8, we adopt a higher pitched voice? Also, why does Sadie, age 4.5, have better speech than I, and without the little-person voice, she'd easily sound 5 years my senior?

Sadie: Hi.
Me: Hey Sadie! How are you?
Sadie: Good.
Me: Is it your mom's birthday today?
Sadie: Yes.
Me: What'd you get her?
Sadie: Nothing, the cake is our present.
Me: Ohhh! What kind of cake?
Sadie: Chocolate.
Me: Does it have frosting?
Sadie: Not yet. We haven't written anything yet.
Me: Oh you're going to write something on it?!
Sadie: Yes. I have to go now. Good bye. >Click<

Fluent In Mom

She: "Let's watch 'Shiloh and Hitch'"
I: "Hustle and Flow?"
She: "...Yeah."

A Question. (Answers Accepted Via Comments)

Why are blogs so Fight Club?
They are generally secret, or go through some sort of secret phase, and they aren't talked about unless its through a comment.
For the time being, I am indifferent about Fight Club status, but am still curious to know why its there.

Welcome To The Bubble

"Where's Jackie?"
"Skipping class to go tanning"

"Why didn't you go to history today Jackie?"
"Because I had more important things to talk about than World War Two"

(Takes a sip of a Mango Naked Juice) "Ew Mango is terrible...it reminds me of breakfast on spring break and makes me feel sick"

"Why do you chew?"
"It's convenient"
"Convenient?"
"Yeah, I can just like go to the bathroom and put some in and just...sit there during class, and spit it out in the toilet..I don't even need a water bottle or anything"

Northern Girl

Okay, maybe I just don't understand because I'm not from the South, or because I've never actually had it, but seriously, what is the appeal behind chicken fried steak?

Real Issue No. 253

Why are they called Floppy Disks?
They are not floppy.
Floppy.
And just once more...Floppy.

I Do Not Have The Bones Of An Idol, So Please Don't Dig Me Up

Brotherly Love, last time I checked, did not involve spreading sickness the weekend of The New Pornographers/Belle & Sebastian concert, then leaving for a week in Wisconsin Dells, but perhaps I should just check more often. Changing from sweatpants to jeans and a sweater to walk 6 blocks from the parking garage in the sleet is not on the easy list, but is maybe worse when you're seeing double and hearing little to nothing. It was, however, conveniently loud enough at the concert to muffle my hacking cough, along with the fact that Belle & Sebastian are from Scotland and have accents so cute I could eat them up with my Ludens Cherry Cough Drops. On a side note, it really is only a matter of time before they start putting active ingredients on Jolly Ranchers. After all, I guess I could have been Nat who got the stomach flu the night before and couldn't go at all. (I love you Nat...The concert wasn't that amazing(thatsalie)).

You Know Its A Lazy Sunday Morning When...

Your brothers and you spend the morning watching Jwanna Mann.

Don't Judge What You Don't Know

For example, my new Pasta Express.
I'm so happy I could throw up.
But I won't.
Because the water is boiling.

"Embrace It." "No."

Thing number 356 that I don't like:

Getting my ears cleaned.

Of all the things that could have run in my family genes, like perfectly tanned skin, wicked intelligence, or small feet, I get narrow ear canals. Who trumped God on this hand?

I Love You Too, Marlboro.

James Blunt is on Oprah, and as we speak, and my mother is singing along to "Goodbye, My Lover", a song that she has never heard before, doesn't know the words to, and only likes becuase she probably thinks that the man who has chronic laryngitis is cute. I didn't have the heart to turn it off, so instead of some girl who he loved being the subject matter, I imagined he was singing of the pains of giving up a cigarette addiction.



Did I disappoint you or let you down?
Should I be feeling guilty or let the judges frown?
'Cause I saw the end before we'd begun,
Yes I saw you were blinded and I knew I had won.
So I took what's mine by eternal right.
Took your soul out into the night.
It may be over but it won't stop there,
I am here for you if you'd only care.
You touched my heart you touched my soul.
You changed my life and all my goals.
And love is blind and that I knew when,
My heart was blinded by you.
I've kissed your lips and held your head.
Shared your dreams and shared your bed.
I know you well, I know your smell.
I've been addicted to you.

Goodbye my lover.
Goodbye my friend.
You have been the one.
You have been the one for me.

I am a dreamer but when I wake,
You can't break my spirit - it's my dreams you take.
And as you move on, remember me,
Remember us and all we used to be
I've seen you cry, I've seen you smile.
I've watched you sleeping for a while.
I'd be the father of your child.
I'd spend a lifetime with you.
I know your fears and you know mine.
We've had our doubts but now we're fine,
And I love you, I swear that's true.
I cannot live without you.

Goodbye my lover.
Goodbye my friend.
You have been the one.
You have been the one for me.

And I still hold your hand in mine.
In mine when I'm asleep.
And I will bear my soul in time,
When I'm kneeling at your feet.
Goodbye my lover.
Goodbye my friend.
You have been the one.
You have been the one for me.
I'm so hollow, baby, I'm so hollow.
I'm so, I'm so, I'm so hollow.

If Anybody Wants To Talk About The Following, Please Let Me Know

1) Charlize Theron's second head

2) The woman in the orange dress sitting with the Crash posse who freaked out whenever anything happened.

3) How sickeningly adorable Reese is

4) Why Brittany Murphy was there

5) A letter to Lindsay Lohan explaining that she should stop campaigning for a Steve Madden add

6) Why everybody wants to be Sandra Bullock's best friend except when people call her "Sandy"

7) A congratulatory letter to JLo for finding green

8) George Clooney in general

Barbie Would Have Been Proud

I spent the night last night as a chaperone for a group of 35 seventh and eighth grade girls for their "pink party" all-nighter lock-in at church.

Itinerary went as follows:

7:00- The night begins, 35 tweens fleet into the church decked in more pink than I ever care to see again.
7-8:30- Dressing up high school boys in old bridesmaid's dresses, putting Caboodles make up on them, and then holding a fashion show.
8:30-10:00- Various activities including small groups where time was spent discussing their recycled boyfriends, and the effectiveness of breaking up through a note or an instant message conversation.
10-11:00- Much text messaging, shrieking, screaming, nail painting, pizza-eating, and drinking 2 sips of a bottle of water, leaving it somewhere, then opening another.
11-12:30- "Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants"
12:30-2- "Raising Helen"
2:00- Sleep angel arrives for 35 exhausted girls.
2:00-7:00- Clean up, intermingled with an hour or so of sleep.


Good Night.

Let's Talk About The Real Issues

Why are you being so calm? People are drinking SAND!

This was just heard from a TV in the background where some member of this family is mindlessly watching ER (Which, if you ask me, is kind of beating the dead horse--medical entertainment-ly speaking). This reminded me of sometime this weekend when we pondered how lucky we are that it rains water and not sand. What if all water was replaced by sand? What would happen to all of the lakes? Chew on that for a moment.

Migratory Patterns Of An Osteichthyes

The fish now resides on the bathroom counter.

Reverse Psychology for Thursdays

Things to be happy about:

1. When you go to the online Merriam Webster dictionary, you can ask them to say words which is both helpful, and fun.
2. Target
3. Arts & Crafts
4. Welch's Grape Juice
5. The new hair dryer which has orange accents, and both concentrator and diffuser attachments (I stress once again-- it's about the features)
6. The new(ish) Atmosphere CD
7. Updating the Pod, cleaning out those artists that you don't listen to
8. Almost all acrylic nail mistake residue is gone
9. The Electric Fetus
10. The wooden fish in the fireplace

I Would Have Let Go

One of my favorite feelings is when you're sitting in the car during the winter, and you get out to go inside, and even though your frigidly cold, you know its going to be warm inside, so its so worth it. Going up to the cabin in the winter kind of sucks the fun out of this feeling, because we turn the heat off when we're not there, instead of, well you know, throwing money away. Anyways, we usually go inside, turn the heat on, and sit around a 30 year old kerosene heater for a few hours until the place warms up. However, the recent sub-zero temps took away even that. I walked in to put some stuff on the kitchen counter, and looked at the faucet where an inch long icicle was hanging. All of our pipes were frozen because a certain anonymous family member forgot to turn off the water when they left last. We turned on the heat and sacrificed the kerosene heater to the basement with hopes of melting the ice in the pipes. We went out to dinner, and came back to unchanged conditions- Ice in the toilet bowl and all. Turns out the pilot light went out in our heating system and blew a few fuses. We got it lit again, and turned all of the faucets in the "on" position so that we'd know if they'd thawed. I layered in several layers of sweat material and smart wool, curled up under even more layers of down covers, and watched Grey's Anatomy until my eyes closed. At around 6 am, I was waken by the sudden rush of water coming from every faucet. I was a little misty eyed as I watched it flow. If you can imagine the scene in Titanic when they finally come to save everybody, it was pretty much the exact same thing as that. Except less water.

Good Morning

You know how sometimes, your hair gets stuck in the suck-y end of the hair dryer and it starts a small fire and smolders for awhile, then bursts a fuse in the other room?

That was fun.

A Question

What is a giant, wood, orange, fish doing in my fireplace?

Home, Where My Thought's Escaping

Tela and I just finished enjoying the cinematic pleasure that is Homeward Bound. And you know what? If you don't at least get misty-eyed when Shadow comes over that hill at the end..then you don't have a soul.

I Have An Illness, Dr. Shepherd.

It's called Grey's Anatomy Season One Came Out On DVDitis. It's very serious, I can't take visitors for awhile, it may be contagious. The most common symptom is the sudden urge to want to go through medical school and become an intern (Tegan and Sara playing the whole way, of course), followed by pressing the "play next episode" button at 7:00 on a Friday night. You might not be hearing me for a few days. Maybe hours.

It Just Never Gets Old

I was reading a book that takes place in the mid 1800's the other day, and they used the word muffin and I literally laughed out loud. That's right people. I LOLed.

This calls for a celebratory wearing of the muffin shirt tomorrow.

Best {Future} Celebrity Couple

Rachael Rae and Jim Cramer.

May they have stress-related ulcers in each other's company.

Rx Crayola

Okay so you know how sometimes when you have a bad day, or are just kind of stressed out, you maybe tune out to some good music, take a little nap, or watch some guilty-pleasure-I-tell-everybody-I-don't-watch-it-but-really-sometimes-I-do TV with something chocolate and delicious? Yeah so there's no TV in my room, the pod was downstairs, and it was a stupid time to sleep when I still had a lot to do. I looked on the floor next to my bed and grabbed the coloring books and markers that Kate gave me for my birthday, and in a pink bag next to them, some fruit snacks courtesy of Dolce*Vita*. I colored a picture of Elmo and then one of a rocking horse, while chewing Pooh Party fruit snacks. And it was for sure the best therapy I've ever had.


*http://thelifesublime.blogspot.com

Broken Fax Machine

Wait. Wait.
When did pomegranate juice start to be good?
Clearly I missed the memo.

Miscommunication

Okay, Dr. H, if you recall our conversation about you asking me if it was okay if you dilated my eyes, I said yes. Although the roll on sunglasses you gave me are adorable, what I meant to say is no, you can't dilate my eyes. Surely you understand. So if you could just make my pupils return to their original, non-giant size, such that I can function, that'd be swell. Thanks.

You're It.

Four jobs I've had:
1. Cookie chef for Sweet Martha's at the State Fair
2. Registration assistant at a Marketing Conference. "Here's your nametag, your workbook will be on your seat, and enjoy your stay at the Ritz Carlton Huntington"
3. Hoagy Master
4. Sister

Four movies I can watch over and over:
1. Almost Famous
2. Blow
3. Anchorman
4. Garden State

Four places I've lived:
1. I Have My Cake And Eat It Too, Minnesot-ah
2. My mother's uterus
3. Saturn
4. I'm a future residents of an ugly urn on someone's mantle. Hopefully that of somebody that I know and not someone who bought a pouch of me off of eBay.

Four TV shows I love:
1. Friends
2. Grey's Anatomy
3. The OC
4. Family Guy

Four places I've vacationed:
1. Pasadena, CA
2. NYC
3. Bonita Beach, FL
4. Leverkusen, Germany

Four of my favorite dishes:
1. Cesar Salad
2. Chicken Chow Fun
3. Soft Shell Tacos from Taco Bell, which taste better when I eat them with Rick.
4. Crab Cakes from the Oceanaire

Four sites I visit daily: BlogSpot and I have yet to resolve our link/bold/italic disagreement, which explains the non-blue.
1. SongMeanings.com
2. Various blogs
3. A list of picture sites
4. TheFormat.com

Four places I would rather be right now:
1. The cabin in the summer
2. The boat
3. The Frank household
4. Let's Cook

Four bloggers I am tagging:
1. Kate
2. Kris
3. Alex
4. Claire

"Attention Customers- Some Of Our Pitted Olives May Contain Pits"

Dear Whole Foods,

First of all, I want to thank you for your excellent store and all of its products. Your stock is through the roof in free-range meat, happy cow cheese, and hair spray made from grass. Your environmentally conscience attitude is awesome, and the "samples every day, all the time" is unbeatable, with great selections such as last nights' grilled mahi mahi or chocolate covered nuts as opposed to the cold Pizza Rolls some elderly woman tried to serve me at Jerry's a couple of Sunday mornings ago.
I figured that such a great company would be open to suggestions, which I have only one. I was walking through the produce department of one of your stores last night and came to your olive bar. Now, I love black olives on my pizza, but personally don't see the appeal in an entire bar dedicated to upward of 15 different "olive breeds" if you will and am curious to know the demographic that you're appealing to. I thought, perhaps something such as a cereal or maybe organic fruit snack bar might be something to consider.

I hope that you'll take these suggestions into consideration, and to hear from you soon.
Thanks, and keep up the great work.

-Muffin

A Birthday Wish

To go back in time.

Yesterday, A friend got me a gift certificate to a nail salon for a birthday present. We went and I was going to just get a regular French manicure, but she convinced me (and by convinced I mean that I thought acrylic nails looked sweet and decided to do it) to get acrylics. I've never had fake nails other than the press on ones you get for $6 at Target, and let me tell you, You; you do not want to stray away from Sally Hanson, she is a good woman. I sat down and an Asian woman who spoke little English immediately decided that she hated me, and all my little fingers. She kept pulling them, flinging them, and ultimately testing their flexibility in too many ways. She took out an electric nail file and instead of shaping my nails, she went to town right on top of my nail, making it rough so that the gel would stick better. Now they ache and its hard to type, write, eat, and function in general. Okay fine, they look amazing, but so entirely not worth it. Happy Birthday nails, my you rest in peace upon my phalanges.

The Anatomy Of A Triscuit

I'm here, snacking away on some cheese and crackers, or more specifically, Triscuits. I went through a phase a couple years ago where I wouldn't eat Triscuits because it was too stressful and the risk of getting cut on a Triscuit fiber was too high. Since then, I've discovered various techniques to eating this complex cracker.

1. Always bite horizontally with the Triscuit ridges. This prevents crumbling on to your lap, upon other snaking materials, or into milk.

2. Partial chewing is not acceptable. People, Triscuits are not Jell-O. You cannot just swallow at your leisure. You must fully chew the cracker. This takes anywhere from 40-50 chews.

3. Toppings are generally necessary for Triscuits, as they have a way of parching your mouth with a somewhat bland flavor, easily fixed by some mild cheddar.

4. When taking a bite, be absolutely sure that the salt granules are on the non-topping side (the bottom) so you're sure to get taste bud-salt contact. Their easily visible, and are only on one side, so if you can't find them, flip.

5. Always find a good beverage to accompany Triscuits. The cheese will dry up your mouth, especially if you follow step 4.

Accepted At Fine Retailers And Tennis Courts.

Set: Jackie walks down the stairs to the bright, fluorescent-lit hallway with a distressed look on her face, draped in her silver fox fur coat, hot pink leather Juicy Couture tote, and sunglasses.

"Okay before ANY of you say ANYTHING the reason that I'm wearing sunglasses is because I got hit in the face with a tennis ball yesterday."

Fur Coat: $700
Tote: $375
Sunglasses: $150
Blonde Beauty with a Black Eye: Priceless

Episode 12,034,923: Kris Learns A New Word

Kris: Semicolon? It sounds Japanese. Semicolon [bow].

BFI v. Aspen

I think, perhaps, come Thursday morning, which is garbage day in our neighborhood, it has been underestimated how much you can tell about a family by what sits at the end of their driveway, or maybe never estimated at all. For instance, the family that lives behind us, has two giant rolling garbage cans, both filled so the cover is at nearly a 180 with the body, and a recycling display that often spans over the yard. They have seven kids. Then there's the family that lives a few blocks down that I don't know, but judging by the giant Huggies box, well you do the math. There's the occasional driveway that just has one bucket-style can who's lid is perfectly fitting, and not at all bulging, with 1, perfectly organized by material, green recycling bin next to it--Their the elderly couples. Then there's the occasional family that still has a Bush '04 sign in their window, and, well, they don't have any recycling bins.

The [New] World According to Alex:

A reaction verbatim, to the crap that was The New World.
I have not seen it, but she's witty, so I share.

look, three big boats! im curious! hmm
-water
i can see you through the tall grass... i love you
"come to me"
-grass, trees
ooh weve captured him. teach me english. i like your hair
i like your hair, lets be in love
okay
-jamestown/swamp
oh no, smith died?! what now?
hello, lets get married. i still love smith, but youll do
wait... smith is alive?
-trees
lets go to england
look the queen
-gardens, baby
smith? i dont love you and your hair is greasy. plus you lied
oh no, im dying
FIN

Next.

Truth: When you add more words to the title of a soda, it does not make it better.

Proof: Black Cherry Vanilla Diet Coke.

Well She Just Walked Right Into That One...

Alex: Why did the chicken cross the road?
Kris: Like a chuck?
Alex: What?
Kris: A chucky? Chruck?
Alex: What?
Kris: Like the puppet?
Alex: Chucky.
Kris: Aren't they the same?
Alex: What? Chucky and what?
Kris: What is inside of an egg? A baby chicken.
Alex: A chick?
Kris: Ohhh yes. Aren't they the same?
Alex: A chick and Chucky? Nooo.
Kris: Really?

Stop Hanging Out In Bars And Do Your HomeLink.

Em and I teach a 7th grade faith formation class at our church. Last night we were questioned about the chemical pressures in High School.

Jack: Well SOMETIMES you can be somewhere where other people are smoking cigs, and you're not!!!
Me: Yeah, and its really good to not succumb to such a disgusting habit, especially if you're surrounded by it.
Jack: But SOMETIMES you can be at a bowling alley and just come home smelling like it even if you DIDN'T SMOKE!
Em: Yeah, that's true, it can happen, and that unavoidable, but as long as you don't smoke...
Jack: NO BUT SOME BARS ARE JUST SMOKY!!!

Karwhen: What's marijuana?
Me: It's a drug.
Karwhen: I know it's a drug but what IS it?
Me: A plant.
Karwhen: I know it's a plant but what ISSSS it?
Em: Its an herrrrrbb.