Wednesdays with Grannie: Field Trip!

Today I brought Grannie to her weekly hair appointment (more about that next week) at 2:30. We got done early and had time to kill before her doctor appointment. I asked her if she wanted to go anywhere and she couldn't really think of anything to do. Also, her little leggie was hurting so I didn't want to drag her out for no good reason. 

As we were driving in the direction-ish of her doctor we passed by my sister's school so I suggested we go and see if Leslie was around so Gram could see her classroom. She was VERY excited about that idea.

So after stalking my sister I finally found her and she let us in. 

Here is Gram checking out pictures of Leslie's students that she has in a school bus in the hallway. 

Here's Leslie giving Gram a tour of the room. Gram was very interested and couldn't stop looking around and asking questions. She was so cute! She said schools had changed a lot since she was a kid! Overall we stayed for about 15 minutes. It was the perfect stop before we headed on to our next appointment!

Look at Him's Hair!

When I was little we only had one car. My dad drove it to work which left my mom and I (and eventually my sisters) to bee-bop around town on our bikes or on the public buses. We lived in a hippie town in the 80's and this was normal. 

One time when I was about 4 my mom and I were riding the bus. We sat near the front because duh, who wants to wrangle a squirrely little kid more than a few rows of seats? 

We pulled up to the bus stop and since we were so close to the front my mom could see out the front window and at this stop she immediately thought "SHIT" to herself. Why shit? Because getting ready to get on the bus was a larger black man who was wearing a flowy type Jesus robe and carrying a staff. To top it off he also had very thick and pouffy dreadlocks down to his waist. 

Obviously my mom knew me well. She knew I would NOT be able to let this man pass by without comments. Fairly sure they would be LOUD comments. 

Well luckily, I did not fail her. 

When black rasta-Jesus got on the bus I sucked in my breath and my mouth flew open...and my mom tried to squelch my words by pulling my close and whisper threatening that "We can talk about this LATER." 

Um, yeah right. 

"MOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM! LOOK AT HIM'S HAIR!"

(Apparently I didn't notice the staff and Jesus robe, just the hair)

"Yes honey, I saw him. Let's talk about what books we're going to get at the library!"

"BUT MOOOOOOOOM! HIM'S HAIR!!!"

"Yes, honey, we can talk about it later."

"BUT..."

"SHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

Luckily our new friend just gave us the peace sign and continued on his way to another row far away from the spastic screaming child.

5 Things I Love About Ange

1. She is so funny. Both intentionally and unintentionally. We have never gone through a day without laughing together. Laughter truly is the soundtrack to our lives.

2. She never lets me quit. When I feel like things are too tough and I just want to quit or avoid them she makes me face the music and get through it. She makes me a strong and better person because of this. 

3. She almost always does the things that I don't want to do. Like talk to strangers. Or icky chores when I'm so tired. When I'm at my wits end, she finds a way to do little things that push me back to normal.

4. She deals with my craziness. Living with me is not easy. She always finds a way to take a deep breath and solider on and can always find a way to calm me down and bring me back to earth.

5. She's smart and thoughtful. She thinks deeply about things and has a zest for learning that is inspiring and refreshing. She is always finding out new things and sharing them with me. She listens to my thoughts and helps me work through issues. 

Obviously, she is the best. I love her like our doggies love treats.

The Troll Haired Somalian

When our baby sister was little, she was subjected to a lot of torture by me and Leslie. Like Leslie says, it's nothing personal, it was just the natural birth order of things. She was little and mousy and we were bigger and meaner and we spent a lot of time together. Sworry sisto. 

One of Hilary's nicknames when she was little was "The Troll Haired Somalian." Troll hair because, well, her hair was always looking like a troll. She has very fine hair that has a tendency to get all fuzzy easily and she was never really a fan of a hairbrush. And she always has been a fan of naps and sleeping. SO she would fall asleep and brush her head up against things like you would do with a balloon if you wanted to make your hair stand straight up. She didn't probably want it to stick straight up, but it did anyway. I've illustrated some examples for you to judge with your own eyes. 

Troll:

Troll haired Hilary for fakesies:

Troll haired Hilary for realsies:

Sidenote: Our dad also let her dress in very unfortunate clothes. I tried, really I did, but to no avail. Hence the monstrosity in this picture.

See the similarities? I think so.

So now that we have that part covered, we can move on to the Somalian part. Even as younger versions of ourselves we were very politically aware. The Somalian civil war broke out in 1991 and that's when we started seeing horrible pictures of starving Somali children all over the news. When Hilary was little she was very thin. Like underweight legitimately. She was the smallest kid in the school in kindergarten I'm pretty sure. So being politically aware but still pretty much jerks we identified our scrawny little sister with the starving Somali children we saw on tv all the time.

Ta-da! Troll haired Somalian!

Ode to PB & Js

I don't know if I can adequately describe my love for peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. I firmly believe that pb&js are the world's most perfect meal. They are totally convenient; both portable and easy to make, easy to find ingredients and people usually have them on hand. They are simple yet delicious. They often provoke happy feelings and are always satisfying. I could literally eat them every day. And I have.

In high school, I ate a pb&j sandwich Every. Single. Day. And not just any pb&j but the pb&j's that I believe were government supplied for poor kids who forgot their lunch money or couldn't afford it. They came in a cardboard triangle with plastic wrap around them. People would look at me like "SRSLY? Who eats those by choice?" 

ME!!!

They were scrumptious. And I ate them everyday for lunch. I love pb&j sandwiches! Every time I eat one I think, YUM! That was delicious! What can I say? I'm simple like that.

Makeovers with Dad

Sometimes my dad makes me crazy. We fight like cats and dogs, but deep down, we love each other so much. Even when he's being annoying, I can't forget all the wonderful things about him.

Like makeovers.

My dad used to let us give him makeovers all the time when we were little.

I'm not talking "let's get you out of those old man shorts and into some cool running pants" makeovers. I'm talking about putting bows and clips and pony tails all over his head.

We had this awesome couch (as an aside: that our wicked StepMonster mother got rid of when they moved into their new house. She said it was all junky or something. As if!) that had a really low back. It was a cool retro 80's couch. Anyway, it hit our dad just below his shoulders leaving the back of his head completely exposed and accessible.

My dad is and always has been OBSESSED with watching sports on tv. If dad was watching tv he didn't really care what we were doing besides NOT being loud and screaming in his face. One of our favorite things to do was give him gorgeous makeovers.

My sisters and I would put little pony tails and barrettes and bows all over the back of his head. As long as we didn't giggle too much he could have cared less. It was awesome. I wish I had a picture of him, but sadly, I don't.

This is the best I could do:

You wish your paint skills were as awesome as mine.

Wednesdays with Grannie: Puzzles!

My grannie LOVES puzzles. She is a master puzzler. Every since I can remember she's been known to have several puzzles up per year on a card table in her living room. Anyone can contribute to the puzzle you just sit on down and start looking. When I was little I loved to help her. Somewhere along the way I realized I thought puzzles were kind of boring and I didn't really enjoy them so much. But no matter how I feel about puzzles personally, there's always something nice about sitting down with Gram to work on a puzzle for a little while. She especially likes it when I cheer for myself about how awesome I am at finding pieces. Think full out Super Bowl touchdown victory dance. It cracks her up. For the rest of my life, whenever I see a puzzle, I'll think of my grannie.

How I Feel About My Neighbor

I headed over to Imagination Prompts this morning to help me find something to write about. The first good prompt/question that came up was "How do you feel about your neighbor?" Ooooh. I have a lot of material for this one. 

I hate my neighbor. 

He is a dirty rotten scumbag.

All the rest of my neighbors have been cycled through in intervals between 2 months and about a year. Scum bag has been here for about 5 years. He is probably going to outlast me. Yuck.

Scum bag neighbor moved in after that house had been abandoned for several years. Some neighborhood kids almost set the house on fire once. I wish now that I'd let them. I just didn't want MY house to catch on fire in the process. 

When he first moved in he was quiet. Then he got two annoying shithead dogs that barked non-stop whenever my dogs were outside. His dogs stayed outside nearly all the time. I only let my dogs out to go to the bathroom and to play occasionally. My dogs don't bother anyone normally. But they hate other dogs. When his yappy dogs would stand at the fence and bark it would drive them nuts. Duke has smashed several fence boards trying to get to those little dogs. Daisy tried to burrow through to the other side. Of course neither of them were successful at getting through because I am a good dog owner. He is not. One day one of his stupid little dogs came into our yard and my dogs almost killed it. Luckily again, I am a good dog owner and stopped the death from occurring. However, the dog was hurt and I felt bad about that, but keep your yappy annoying dog out of my yard and that won't happen. This started a vicious battle between my ex and the scum bag where they would scream at each other over the fence and ended up with him calling Animal Control on us numerous times. After about the 3rd or 4th time I finally called Animal Control and told them that they were being used as a tool of harassment by my delusional neighbor and if they didn't stop I was going to sue everyone. I have not heard from them since. 

My ex worked for a short time (her jobs were always short...but that's a whole other can of worms) as a prison guard. This is how we found out that scum bag was a parolee. We didn't get any other info about him other than he'd been in jail for 10 years. Lovely. In her training as a prison guard she learned to spot different types of tattoos and she recognized several of his tattoos as being Aryan Nations tattoos. Double lovely. It did explain his nasty treatment of my ex. Hates the lesbians too. 

Luckily after the ex moved out we've lived side-by-side in quiet hate and solitude. He got rid of his dogs so that has kept the peace. I had my stepdad come over to "fix the fence" and flex some muscle so he knew not to screw with me anymore or that Dale would come over and pound him. That's what I imagine he thought anyway. Dale wouldn't pound anyone, but he has the handy advantage of looking big and mean and scary. 

Things have taken a turn for the weird this past year. We don't think scum bag has any electricity over at his house. He cooks everything outside on a smoker/grill (which has an added bonus of making our backyard smell like a campfire 24-7, YUCK). He has a wood burning stove inside that is ALWAYS going and we have not seen any signs of lights on in the evening in about 6 months. I'm thinking he is in the poor house in a major way. I keep hoping it is a sign that his house is about to be foreclosed on, but since his mom actually owns the house (another useful tid bit we found out along the way) it probably isn't. He's just a weird scum bag who was sent to torture me until we move. 

In sum, I hate my stupid neighbor.

Aries to a T

Astrology is fun. I don't take it too seriously, e.g. I don't make decisions based on my astrological calendar or consult some kind of astro-reader or whatever. But I think that there is a lot to be said about knowing the characteristics of different zodiac signs which often explains why people do things and who they are as humans. It's not 100% true and there are always bound to be people who don't fit, but often you can learn a lot about someone by investigating their sign (just don't be lame and try a "What's your sign?" pick up lame. That would make you born under the Ass Sign.) 

I am an Aries. The first sign of the Zodiac. People who are Aries like to be first. Yep, true. 

Aries are considered "masculine" in character and like to be leaders on tasks. I often think it's funny that my partner is the one with the "butch" exterior (and really, it's just her hair) and that makes me the "femme." Believe me, the only thing really femme about me is my appearance (dresses, make-up, etc.). When it comes to the dynamics of our relationship I am totally the butch one. 

Aries are fire signs and thus tend to be adventurous and energetic, but tend to get burnt out. Totally me. If Ange wants me to do something I don't want to do, like cleaning, she is learning that it's best to get me early in the day. I am a morning person and I'm bursting with energy. But by the end of the day I'm dim and lethargic. 

Aries are enthusiastic and confident. But we can also be selfish and impatient. If you have ever worked with me you know these things. I try and harness the good and minimize the not as great. I am passionate and will always speak up for the underdog. If you try and push me, you likely feel my shove back, especially if your callousness harms someone else.

Aries are quick-witted and sharp. If you've ever been subjected to my humor you know this. But you might have also felt the frustration I have when people are slow and not so bright. It goes hand in hand with our lack of patience.  

Aries tend to live their lives in the extreme. Always pushing for more adventure and rushing into new things. It's a good thing I have a water sign partner to keep me cool :)

Wednesdays with Grannie: Whoops!

There are a lot of sad things that happen when someone starts showing signs of Alzheimer's. But luckily, I'm going to spare you those details today. Sometimes you have to take sad things and make them funny. One day I had to take grannie to a doctor's appointment for something or the other. Being that we live in Indiana and it is winter I made sure she was bundled up like Nanook of the North and my car was heated up before I shuttled her out of the car to take off. I loaded her in, loaded in her walker and purse, climbed in and we took off. One thing I did NOT do before we left the house was look down. 

Whoops. We were already half way to the doctor before I noticed and not wanting to embarrass her I didn't mention it. We made it all the way home and had her settled in her chair before she noticed (it was about 4 pm). She was like "OH GOODNESS! Here I've been running around town with two different shoes on! How embarrassing!" I reassured her that I didn't notice so I'm sure no one else did. It was a little white lie. I didn't notice...at first. Luckily she thought it was the funniest thing ever so she pretty much told everyone who came over to visit that day about her little mix-up. Besides, she isn't the only person to do this. One year my aunt worked the night shift before Thanksgiving and showed up at Thanksgiving lunch with the family with 2 different shoes on and she was in her early 40's. After this incident with my grandma my sister said that one of her fellow teachers came to school with two different shoes on and she's in her 20's! So I told gram not to worry, it was just a funny story that gave us a good laugh. No harm no foul.

Sharks!

I simultaneously love sharks (though not as much as unicorns) and am absolutely terrified by them. At one point in my life I thought I wanted to be a marine biologist and I wanted to specialize in sharks. Then I realized I lived in Indiana and that was probably unrealistic. Oh well. But I can still pretty much watch any show about sharks and be entertained for hours.

On the other hand, I am absolutely terrified of getting attacked by a shark. I blame JAWS. I watched Jaws at a young age and it has pretty much scarred me for life. Way to go DAD (he always let me watch inappropriate-for-my-age shows). Life in sunny California was never the same. For months after seeing Jaws I wouldn't even go into the water past my ankles. I was sure that Jaws was just ready to attack me and chew me up into a million bloody pieces. I've since moved past the ankle deep waters again but I am still 99.9% sure that I am going to be attacked by a shark every time I'm in the ocean. 

I shared this a month or so ago on Facebook but I also have an irrational fear of being attacked by a shark while swimming alone in pools. I KNOW IT MAKES NO SENSE. But still? Totally freak myself out when swimming alone. I just worry that they will somehow figure out how to navigate the water/sewer system and will be hiding in the drains waiting to pop out and chomp me to death while I casually swim laps. Yes, I know that sharks can't live in chlorine and that there is not a nice neat system of pipes that go from ocean to LA Fitness pool and that the sharks I am imagining are much larger than the drains in the pool. That's why it's called irrational. And I admit that it's dumb. And I try really hard not to get scared but it still happens. C'est la vie.

Sometimes I fall down...

Grace is not my middle name.

I fall down. A lot.

I'm way clumsy. I fall down more than the average person. I'd say I fall down at least twice a month. Sometimes more. Last winter I fell down three times on the way to class. My office is less than 100 yards away from the classroom. The two people I was with were simultaneously hysterical and wondering how I'd made it this far in life. I have no idea.

One time I thought I'd try belly dancing for fitness. I was demonstrating my new moves and someone slipped on the carpet and totally wiped out. Now whenever my family hears the words "belly dancing" they can only think about me laying in a heap on the floor. Lovely.

My sisters are Harry Potter fanatics. My baby sister is also a giant nerd. My mom made her a Harry Potter cape one year for Christmas. It was a to-the-floor black velvet cape. Srsly nerdy. It buttoned at the neck and had a hood. One day I decided to act like a total weirdo and put on her cape and was running screaming through our rooms and pretending to be Harry Potter. My middle sister, who's room was ALWAYS a disgusting mess, had left a tear out poster of Josh Hartnett (probably from Bop Magazine or Tiger Beat or something lame) on the floor and as I stepped on it my leg shot out across the floor and I collapsed on the floor in a heap. Josh Hartnett was ripped in the process. I was mad that I gave myself a carpet burn and twisted leg; Leslie was mad about Josh Harnett. 

This has just been a brief overview of memorable fallings down. There are hundreds and hundreds more I could share but frankly I'm having sympathy pains in my body right now so I think I'm going to go lay down.

Scrooges/Jehovah's Witnesses (But not really)

So this post is going to make Ange and I sound all hateful but I promise we are not. 

I've always loathed decorating for the holidays. I've never been one to go out and admire other people's gaudily decorated houses. I like a clean modern look (emphasis on the "look" and less on the "clean") and I don't like mucking it up for weeks on end with cheap & ugly decorations. I like holidays themselves, just not the stupid decorations that take hours to put up only to take hours to take down a few weeks later. Just like daylight savings time, why do something when you are just going to turn around and undo it a little while later? Lazy...maybe. 

My grandmother and Aunt have always made it a big deal to come over and decorate her house for Christmas. I loathe this every year. And as we've grown older most of my family totally bails on her, not because they don't like decorating, but because they are lazy and don't want to be driven crazy by other family members. So usually it is me, the one who abhors decorating anyway, that ends up helping. I was lucky enough to get out of decorating this year but I did get swindled into helping minimally take things down. I hated every second of it. 

I thought I was doomed to be deemed a scrooge for the rest of my life and would be forced into decorating for all eternity. Two former dating partners attempted to make me get in the holiday spirit. The first one gave up the third time the dogs knocked over the tree and I was relieved, though she still did make us put up some lame things like stockings and a wreath. Gag. The other one was not an official gf so she didn't get much say. She tried to "surprise" me by buying a ceramic lighted tree to sit on the kitchen table. Thankfully that left the house promptly after she did. 

And then in waltzed Ange into my life. As I mentioned before, she is perfect for me. We met during Christmas season and I quickly found out that she also hated decorating. SCORE!!! Just one more reason that we fell in love. We've pledged that we will never decorate our houses with any stupid holiday decorations as long as we both shall live. No stupid jack-o-lanterns rotting on the porch, no ridiculous turkey decorations, no smelly old trees that you have to struggle with, no hideous Easter Bunny paraphernalia, or any other random holiday in-between. It's not that we don't enjoy/recognize/celebrate those holidays...we for sure aren't Jehovah's Witnesses or anything, we just prefer to celebrate in our hearts and not by gaudily adorning our houses.

We realize this may be strange when kids come along and we haven't quite figured out how we'll work it all out, but I'm confident in our abilities to think logically and rationally and wing it if we have to. Our kids will be used to our strange ways by the time they realize that our family is different (in more ways than one) so I'm sure they won't make too big a deal.

Unicorns

When I was younger I was OBSESSED with unicorns. I had the largest porcelain/glass/figurine collection in California I'm pretty sure. At some point I think I was embarrassed by the collection and sold them in a garage sale. Damn pressure to conform during adolescence. I'd kill for it now.

I went looking for pictures of unicorns for this blog and you'd probably be amazed at how many pictures of unicorns and unicorn paraphernalia you can find out on the interwebs.

Cute unicorns:

Unicorn t-shirts (totally would have worn this when I was little):

Unicorn bandaids (I would have KILLED for these):

Lots of media-related to unicorns (including my FAV movie The Last Unicorn):

TONS of unicorn tattoos...sidenote, Ange totally convinced me at one point that she was getting a unicorn tattoo. I was both thrilled and scared all at the same time:

And quite possibly my favorite find, A Last Unicorn dress:

Let's declare this National Unicorn Day! It might be just me celebrating but yay anyway!

Wednesdays with Grannie

My grandma has recently been diagnosed with Alzheimer's. It wasn't really a shock because her mother had dementia and eventually Alzheimer's and for the past year or so my grannie's memory has been in the shitter. It started out with little forgetful things and has charged into repetitive stories and questions that loop over and over and over again. It's both annoying and sad and everyone seems to be dealing with it in different ways. I have a very high tolerance for annoyance so I can hang out with gram and hear the same 3 stories 187 times in a few hours and answer the same 5 questions every 10 minutes and not get too frustrated. Others can't but they do their best. 

In addition to her deteriorating mental state, her little body is getting worn out too. She's been having some back issues that have led to some walking issues and pain but overall she's still sputtering along with the help of a walker for balance. My aunt lives next door and shoulders most of the "burden" of helping care for her. When I got home from Nigeria I realized how much pressure she was under so I volunteered to help her out one day a week for a few hours. So every Wednesday I hang out with grannie from around 2 pm until about 8:30 pm. Sometimes she has doctor's appointments to go to or shopping to do, but most of the time we just hang out at her house and watch tv and chat. 

My family recently decided to talk to her about moving to assisted living. She's on a lot of different medications and with her memory problems they are worried about her overdosing or harming herself in other ways. While they figure all of these things out we continue with our weekly hangouts. I know that things could progress quickly so I wanted to take some time to blog about my gram so I'll have some happy memories to think about when things take a turn for the not so happy. 

I've been thinking about this for a while but just haven't gotten around to posting so I have a few posts in mind from the past few months which will hopefully carry me through even if I don't get any fresh ideas every week. But my gram is hilarious and chatty so I'm sure I won't have too many problems coming up with new material. Looking forward to next Wednesday!

WHY WON'T YOU EAT YOUR SANDWICHES???

My mom & stepdad left to go home to California today. Boo, sad face. While we were driving them to the airport my sister and I were chatting and reminiscing about the good old days and I was reminded of a funny story that would make a great blog post. 

Leslie and I have always been outgoing and social. Hilary on the other hand was always clingy, shy and wimpery and never wanted to let go of our mom's legs. So imagine my mom's surprise when Hilary went off to school and at the first parent-teacher conference and heard that shy little Hilary was actually out-going and even sometimes pesty to other kids! Who knew???

An additional sidenote: both of my sisters were/are the pickiest eaters on the planet. Leslie continues to be picky but Hilary thankfully has grown out of it and is now pretty adventurous. However, during childhood both of my sisters packed lunch Every. Single. Day. Because apparently school food = death.

Hilary's apparent transformation into social butterfly meant that she talked way more than she'd eat when she was at school. Every day when she'd come home from school dad would unpack her lunchbox and would find that she'd eaten less than half of what he'd packed her in the morning. So EVERY day he'd lecture her about eating her lunch and not wasting food. And EVERY day she'd bring home her damn lunchbox with half of the food still inside. Leslie and I would be like HELLO? Throw it away at school and stop bringing it home! But apparently that never occurred to our genius sister while at school. She was probably too busy chatting with friends to remember. When she would remember that dad would be mad she would try and dispose of the evidence but in her again genius-y way she would throw them in the kitchen trash where dad would see it or in her bedroom where it would be eventually found. And then she'd get yelled at again. Sigh. 

Well one day dad had apparently had enough. He was unpacking her lunchbox and discovered her uneaten peanut butter & jelly sandwich. Rather than launching into the same-old lecture he turns around and screeches "WHY WON'T YOU EAT YOUR SANDWICHES???" 

And then...

HE FLINGS THE SANDWICH AT HER.

Srsly. He whipped the sandwich from the lunchbox and into her shoulder where it landed with a soft thud. He was about 10 feet away and it was a PB&J so it wasn't like he was being abusive but she of course starts sobbing her face off and Leslie and I fall over dead with laughter. Of course our peals of laughter anger my dad who sends us to our room while he finishes his eat-your-lunch lecture with Hilary. 

It wasn't one of his best parenting moments, but it was certainly one of the most memorable. To this day we still re-enact the scenario complete with awesome sound effects. THWAP! Wahhhhhhhhhhhhhh! Ahahahaha.

All Time Favorite Movies

I'm trying to get back in the groove of writing so I'm throwing together some random posts to get my fingers going. I looked for some prompts and one of them said something about favorite movies so I thought I'd give you a run down of some of my all time favorite movies:

1. Footloose: My ALL TIME very favorite fantastically fabulous movie. Teen angst, breaking rules, dancing, 80's music? Really, is there anything better? I think not. Let's DANCE!!!
2. Dirty Dancing: Again, many of the same things as Footloose but with a little more romance. Every time I watch this movie I have the time of my life. Srsly.
3. Annie: Who doesn't love a little red headed orphan singing songs about everything? And rags to riches stories are always good in my book.
4. Sound of Music: Never before have I wanted to be a kid living around heinous Nazis. If only my mother were a former nun/seductress.
5. Xanadu: A roller skating movie with kicky 70s music. Nuff said.
6. The Last Unicorn: Way better than any stupid Disney movie. Magic, unicorns, strange bestiality twist? Trust me, it's awesome.
7. Ferris Bueller's Day Off: Bueller? Bueller? So funny. I always wished I could be as bad ass as Ferris. 
   
8. Odd Couple 2: I srsly am in tears every time I watch this movie. It's so freaking funny I can hardly stand it. Must watch to understand.
9. A Few Good Men: YOU CAN'T HANDLE THE TRUTH!!! Kevin Bacon, Tom Cruise before he got all crazbo, and Jack Nicholson were all awesome in this movie. Ok, Kevin Bacon wasn't all the awesome but hello, he's Mr. Footloose so of course he gets a shout out.
10. Devil Wears Prada: The book was even better but don't let that stop you from watching this awesome movie. Meryl Streep is delicious in this movie and Anne Hathaway is smoking hot. Plus? Super hot fashion.

There you go. A movie marathon list all conveniently summarized for you. You're welcome. 

Wii are all kinds of crazbo around here

And wii have some very sore thumbs.

So yeah, Ange bought a Wii like 5 minutes after it came out and before this Christmas I think we've played it exactly 2 times in 2 years. There were a few times that her nephews came up and played it but probably no more than 3 or 4 times. So our lovely expensive game console sits sparking on the floor doing nothing.

For Christmas we asked for a few Wii games. Here's my train of thought: now that Ange has a new job that will give her much more flexibility in her schedule we'll be spending more time together. More time together could lead to more staring at the tv mindlessly. Why not put something on that tv that creates more interaction rather than just blind staring? So Wii games will promote interaction, fun and love. That's my thinking anyway.

Ange asked for Jeopardy! because who doesn't like trivia? I asked for Mario Kart cause secretly I kick ass at race car driving. I also heard from someone that the New Super Mario Bros. for Wii pretty much kicks ass so we bought that one the week after Christmas when it was on sale at Target. We've pretty much been spending several hours per day playing Wii. It's been awesome. And? I've earned some street cred from Ange for my fantastic Mario Kart skills. She thought I was going to be all lame and just crash everywhere but guess who's unlocked 2 new secret game boards? Moi. Thank you.

Of course wii have to make everything with double i's now and that's funny (for now).

New Year's Resolutions

We're not really into New Year's Resolutions but last night in our lameness we decided to make some. Lame because we ended up coming home from dinner at my dad's and organizing Ange's sock drawer, doing some laundry and watching the Deadliest Catch marathon while laying in bed and falling asleep around 11. Party animals we are. In between commercials and snuggling dogs we decided to give each other resolutions and to give the dogs resolutions.

So without further ado here are our resolutions:

My resolutions for Ange:

1. Think more than one step ahead. She tends to be impulsive and impatient and rarely thinks of the chain-of-events that follow each action and it often leads to me being annoyed. 
2. Snuggle me more. Cause duh, who doesn't like more snuggles?

Ange's resolutions for me:

1. To gripe at her less. Yeah, I'm kind of a nag. But see my resolution #1 for her. I feel like we can be complimentary in our #1 resolutions. 
2. To keep going to the gym with her and keeping her inspired to be healthy.

Ange's resolutions for herself:

1. Keep working out.
2. Keep doing so good at school.
3. Work on self confidence.

Lindsay's resolutions for herself:

1. Keep being healthy.
2. Finish dissertation.
3. Blog more.

Our resolutions for Stone:

1. Live through 2011. Yeah, he's old. We just want him to make it.
2. Stop eating poop. It's gross.
3. Stop peeing in the house randomly. It's also gross.
4. Continue to be sweet. He's a good boy. We couldn't think of four.

Our resolutions for Duke:

1. Don't attack and kill any of your brothers and sisters. Jerk.
2. Quit growling all of the time. His new prescription for doggie Prozac should help.
3. Get a grip on your life. Nuff said.
4. Come in when called and don't stand around staring at us forever.

Our resolutions for Daisy:

1. Quit being a bitch and chewing up your sister (or any other dogs for that matter).
2. Stopping barking so damn much.
3. Stop breathing so heavy in our damn faces all the time.
4. Quit scraping us so much.
5. Get a grip on your life and stop trying to run away. Srsly, no one will love you like we do. (She needed an extra one cause she's the worst.)

Our resolutions for Carmie:

1. Quit barking so damn much.
2. Stop begging at the DFZ so much.
3. Keep being a snuggle bug. She's also an angel and we couldn't think of anything else.

Our resolutions for Sam:

1. SRSLY STOP BARKING SO MUCH. Gawd.
2. Stop eating so much. Fatty fatkins.
3. Grow a pair and stop being a baby all the time.
4. Quit making us take you to the vet. You are so damn expensive.

There you have it. I have a feeling the moms will be much more successful than dogs but we'll see!