Wednesday, February 25, 2009

GNO--GUY'S Night Out

Tomorrow night (Thursday) my hubby is going to see his very favorite movie of all time (well, up until Transformers came along). I'll give you some hints as to what it is.

"Tower, this is Ghost rider requesting a flyby."
"That's a negative Ghost rider, the pattern is full."

"Take me to bed or lose me forever."

"I feel the need..."
"The need for speed!"

"She's lost that loving feeling."

"Any of you boys seen an aircraft carrier around here?"

He is inviting all your hubbies to go too. It's at Regal at 7:45. If your husband can't figure out what movie I'm referring to, he probably shouldn't go, because all the other husbands will point and laugh at him.

Sunday, February 22, 2009

Congratulations Kate!!!

I couldn't be happier for you.

Saturday, February 21, 2009

Precious Moments

Me: "Payson, where's Jasper?"
Payson: "Playing in his sandbox." (Jasper was going to the bathroom.)

Payson, when Bill turned on The Biggest Loser: "Woah. Those people are fat."
Don't worry, we had a little talk after that one.

Macy, seeing a picture of Angelina Jolie in her Oscar gown online: "Hey! That looks like me!" Dream on, sista. Dream on.

This was the conversation that took place in my car on the way to school this morning:

Kenzie: "Sometimes our neighbor's dog digs up dinosaur bones. Seriously, he's done it before."
Macy: "Wow."
Kenzie: "I just don't know when we're going to get a new house. We're looking like crazy, but we just haven't found one yet."
Macy: "Well, you can just tell the builders to build you a new one."
Kenzie: "Well, I already found one that I love, but..."
Macy: "It's not on sale?"
Kenzie: "Yeah. I told my mom I want the one with the hideout."

I've never been so entertained on the way to school.

Friday, February 20, 2009

Not Afraid To Admit Defeat

My sister-in-law linked to a blog today that gave blogging tips. I gained great insight into the world of blogging. But more importantly, I stumbled across a post that seemed to have come straight from heaven onto my computer screen. It said EXACTLY what I have been thinking and feeling for the last few months. Please, before you read any more of my post, go read this post. Now.

NO! Go read it first!!!!

Okay. Now that you've read it, I can go on. I could have said every single thing she said. The anxiety, stress, fear of offending...I have it all.

So here's the thing. I am a MAJOR people pleaser. Like, no one knows just how bad it is. I have thought back through my childhood and dissected every aspect of it and tried to figure out what causes this obsessive need for people to like--no, LOVE me.

Also, I am a comment fiend. Yes, we all love comments. But I live and breathe comments. It's sad, really.

Hence, my temporary loss of sanity. Honestly, I don't know what I was thinking. I knew, even as I wrote it, that it was insane, and I was setting myself up for major failure. But I was so willing to try if it meant more comments. And it did. And I loved it. You have no idea how much I loved it. But within the first day I was already behind on blogs, and I would never catch up. And with each new comment I only had more blogs to add to my reader, knowing I was running a race I would never finish.

Now, I go into my reader, see that triple digit number of posts to read and shake my head in defeat. I read my closest family members' and a few blogs that make me laugh, and that's on a good day. With every "mark all as read" I feel a little lighter. Every time that slider bar shrinks a smidgen, I feel closer to success. But it's never enough.

And this was BEFORE I got a job. A job that requires me to be on the computer, writing.

I am also trying to write a novel. (Have I mentioned this before?) This puts me at my computer, writing.

Also, I'm gonna go ahead and admit this, my favorite part about blogging is posting. Not reading other blogs, not commenting, but posting. I love it. I am a writer and I thrive on writing whatever the heck I want and knowing people will read it and possibly tell me what they think of it. It's a high that I'm not ashamed to say I'm addicted to.

All of this, and a family, which sadly, should not have come after the other stuff. And a house. And what I kid myself into believing is a social life. And a church calling. And tv shows to watch. And hobbies that I still consider hobbies even though I don't do them.

But still, all...the...comments.........

And I promised everyone.............

And now I'll look like a complete loser going back on my word............

But it's not physically possible. Blogging is supposed to be fun, not stressful. And right now it's oh so stressful for me. I tried, I really tried. So, if my, comments take a major hit, I guess that's the price for enjoying blogging again, stress-free. I will still read whenever I can, and comment when I can, but it probably won't be much at all. Maybe you'll keep reading my blog because you enjoy it. Maybe you'll even comment because you love me. And if not, I'll deal with it. Or my therapist will.

Thursday, February 19, 2009

Follow Ups

So my husband wanted me to make sure you all knew that he doesn't tell such lame jokes. Here's what happened: One night Bill was messing around with my camera, taking a bunch of pictures of Jasper, trying to get one of him yawning. Instead he got the one you saw, just coming out of a yawn. We were laughing so hard because it looked like he was grinning like an idiot. So we thought it would be funny to make it look like he was laughing at a joke about dogs being stupid. Apparently it wasn't as funny as Bill and I thought it was, although a few of you seemed to appreciate it. Anyway, for the record, my husband tells funny jokes, not dumb ones. (Although he usually brings his jokes home from work that I could never repeat on my blog.)

On a completely unrelated topic, I realized I have never done a follow up of my Writer's Block post. (I know, I know, how have you been sleeping at night?) I was expecting a bunch of silly ideas, but what I got was a bunch of really great advice. Thank you to all who gave it. It meant a lot. Some of you (or maybe none of you) may be interested to know that I am continuing on with my original story, although I am re-writing it so that I don't hate it. I can't let go of this idea, because I think it's pretty good. Hopefully soon I'll feel confident enough to share some of it with you. Special thanks to Cousin Jen, who apparently has made it her goal in life to help me and make my life easier and more wonderful.

Oh, and because all the advice was super good and there were no ridiculous plot suggestions, I won't be picking a favorite. Although Honorable Mention must go to Karen for her "werewolves" comment and Amy for her "soap poisoning." Made me laugh!

So thank you, again, for all your great advice and ideas. The writer's block has been removed and I am plugging away, yet again.

Confessions of a Shopaholic

I often worry that I'm going to become that person that people say "I don't read her reviews. She ruins every good movie," about. I've thought back through the movies I've reviewed and could count on one hand the ones that I said only good things about. But I'm not easily entertained, I guess, and even the movies I love have things that bug me in them.

So, I was very excited when I came home from Confessions of a Shopaholic and realized I could write a review where I do nothing but rant and rave. And believe me, this came completely unexpectedly.

I'd been told about the books and that I just had to read them. They sounded fun, but I'm more the type that needs real depth and emotion, not so much the fun chick-lit. I thought the same thing about the movie, especially after seeing the previews: I'm sure I'll see it, but only because it would make a great GNO movie. The previews didn't do the movie justice, at all.

Imagine my surprise when halfway into the movie I found myself thinking "I really love this movie!"

("Yes...I Googled.")

Interspersed among the aforementioned "fun-ness" (i.e. the brightly colored designer clothes, chick music playing in the background, and endless talk about shopping) were many surprises.

One was Isla Fisher as Rebecca Bloomwood, the shopaholic. I've only ever seen her in one other thing (which will remain nameless) and wasn't hugely impressed. However, she absolutely shined in this role. She was perfect as the sweet, vivacious girl with a weakness for Gucci. I completely fell in love with her (in a totally platonic way, of course).

Another was the humor. I was prepared for some soft chuckling, maybe a giggle or two. (Just kidding. I don't giggle.) I wasn't prepared for full-on laughing--the loud, boisterous guffaw that scares babies, the one my mom says sounds like a truck driver. I didn't expect to use that. But I did. Several times. (One time in particular is the scene in which Rebecca dances with a fan. Pure comedy.)

(Rebecca dancing with her fan)

Another surprise was romance. Now, call me blonde if you will, for not realizing there would be some kind of romance in this movie. Every movie throws in some sort of relationship. Even Speed had romance in it. But for some reason I didn't expect it, and was pleasantly surprised when not only did it show itself, but in a way that made me sigh girlishly instead of rolling my eyes. The end in particular, which I will not give away, actually made my heart go tha...................dunk, down into my stomach. You know, the very last scene involving a certain green item. The hopeless romantic in me was literally aching. Hugh Dancy, who played Rebecca's love interest (and is engaged to Claire Danes), didn't do much for me looks-wise until I fell in love with his character. By the end of the movie he was smokin' hot!

(Their first encounter)

But the biggest surprise, by far, was the morals and values this movie had. One aspect of this was its PG rating and its accompanying no language, no sex, no nothing content. (At least none that I can remember.) I thought for sure it would have been more of a Sex In The City type movie, and I was so happy to be wrong. Another aspect was the message of self-reliance. The whole movie screamed "GET OUT OF DEBT." It showed the hardship and pain that debt brings with it and the happiness and freedom that comes from being debt-free and financially secure. Although we definitely hear this more and more with today's economy, it's still shocking to see it coming from Hollywood.

(The look of financial freedom)

By the time the credits rolled, I had laughed, I had "cried" (you know, internally, with no tears), I felt uplifted and inspired and moved. And I knew I could--and would--recommend this movie to anyone who would listen.

(I had to throw this picture in because this character's name was Alicia, which is very cool.)

Tuesday, February 17, 2009

Funny Feline

Bill came home from work today and told us this joke:

"How do you know if you have a stupid dog?...........
If he chases parked cars."

Macy didn't get it.

Payson didn't think it was funny.

I was less than amused.

But Jasper enjoyed it.

Sunday, February 15, 2009

My "New" Kitchen

I have been dying to post pictures of our new kitchen table. But I knew I had to wait until my new curtains were up. Well, finally, today, they are, and now I can unveil my new and improved kitchen.

Finally I have a room in my house that is almost completely decorated (if you count stark white walls as "decorated.") I love it so much. I just want to sit in my kitchen and look around. Thanks to my wonderful mom (who will never read this) and her amazing sewing skillz for cutting my curtains apart and making them compatible with my bay window. And thanks to the end of the Global Bazaar discounts for my new table!!

Thursday, February 12, 2009

Be Afraid...Be Very Afraid.

Late Show - Where's Joaquin Phoenix? - 2/11/09
Late Show - Where's Joaquin Phoenix? - 2/11/09

This is the man who was nominated for 2 Oscars, one for Gladiator and one for Walk the Line.
Am I the only one who is seriously scared for him? Am I the only one who sees his total and complete loss of reality? Everyone is getting a good laugh at his bizarre behavior, but it makes my stomach turn. He either has completely lost it, or he's deeply into drugs. Either way, he needs help, and laughing at him isn't helping. I was worried for him back in 2005 when he gave his famous "frog in his hair" interview. Now he's sworn off movies, grown a mountain man beard and is dabbling in hip hop. Are we waiting for the man to actually slit his wrists before getting him help?

This was his last visit to the The Late Show--

So normal. So sad. I truly hope he gets help...soon, before it's too late.

Wednesday, February 11, 2009

Things I've Learned From My Cat

1. Macy can read cats' minds. No seriously, she can, because if someone tries to give it a toy, she says, "NO! He doesn't want that right now." Or if someone tries to pet it too roughly (in her eyes) she says, "STOP! You're hurting him." It's amazing. I'm thinking of trying to get her her own reality show, like Cat Whisperer or something.

2. Our cat came from the gods. Apparently, our cat does things that no other cat has ever done before. Like sneeze. "Oh my gosh, he just sneezed! That's the cutest thing I've ever seen!" And roll around. "Aw, look at him roll, it's soooooo cute." And walk. (Hysterical laughing.) "He's walking! Hee hee hee." Who knew we got Supercat, with his amazing, other-wordly abilities? I bet his old owners are kicking themselves...

3. Bill feels the same about kittens as he does babies. I haven't seen this side of him in five years, with the baby talk and the cuddling and the searching for the little thing as soon as he walks in the door. Okay, I'm guilty too. Seriously, you'd think I gave birth to the thing. I might even decide to reveal that it sleeps with us in our bed, but I'm not sure yet if I will. Bill might not want everyone to know.

4. A kitten is a great substitute for a baby. Besides what I mentioned above, for the first time in two years I have no guilt over not fulfilling my kids' every wish by having a baby. In fact, the way they treat this cat, I'm starting to wonder if they think they are one in the same. Please, no one tell them otherwise.

5. Claws suck. A lot. Yeah, so apparently they don't de-claw kittens until they are at least 6 months old. Um..............huh? Are you kidding me? What in the HECK am I supposed to do until then? I am covered in scratches on both my hands and my face, Payson gets clawed at least four times a day, resulting in him sobbing and begging me to call the vet again to make sure they really won't take the claws out, and my curtains are starting to look like, well, like we have a cat.
Nan? Some help here? Anyone?

Oh, and we finally settled on "Jasper." Payson wanted "Jumper" or "Jabba" (yeah, as in The Hut), Macy wanted Chester or Baxter (??), Bill quickly vetoed my "Edward" and suggested "Carlisle," we called him "Cullen" for a day until I couldn't handle hearing my kids call him "Colon" one more time, and so it is "Jasper," which we felt was the best cat name.

Now if only I could get it to "clean" itself in private, life would be just purrrr-fect. (Sorry, I had to.)

Tuesday, February 10, 2009

The Kind That Purrs

Introducing...uh....still searching for a name.
Any suggestions would be greatly appreciated.
I'm thinking of Edward, what do you think?
(If it was a girl it was going to be Renesmee.)

Oh, and, btw, that was really fun for me,
making you all try and figure it out!

Monday, February 9, 2009

Coming Soon...

A new addition to our family. A tiny, soft, cuddly, adorable little addition.

Hold Up, Weight A Minute

I tried really hard to do a This Week in Hollywood over the weekend, but celebrities just aren't being funny this week. Or maybe I'm just not being funny this week. Either way, I'm going the opposite direction this morning. I'm going to rant instead.

Remember this picture from my last TWIH?

Obviously I chose it because it was just begging to be made fun of. Which I did. Ruthlessly. What I was making fun of was the monstrosity that Jessica had decided to don that day. I think that was pretty clear to my readers, who commented on said monstrosity. And, although I won't deny that as I first viewed the picture on the thought breezed through my mind that Jessica was filling her clothes out a little more than usual, in no way did I think that tiny blip on the radar was worthy of going into my post, and most definitely not something I would ever dream of making fun of. I actually thought it was just the horrible mom jeans and tank top that were incredibly unflattering, making Jessica appear to be curvier than she actually is.

But then I got the latest issue of PEOPLE. Jessica is on the cover next to the title Jessica Simpson: Weight Debate. Below that it says "Stop Calling Her Fat. Inside The Star's Bold Choice To Lead A Real Life." Bold choice? To eat? To wear a clothes size that is an actual number? Jessica Simpson? Fat? Seriously? If Jessica Simpson is fat, than I'm morbidly obese.

As I read the article I grew more and more disgusted. It quoted Perez Hilton saying "Jess got fat!" on his website. The New York Post called her Jumbo Jessica and added her to their list of 50 Fat Celebrities alongside Ruben Studdard. What the heck is wrong with this picture??!! Why does The New York Post have a list called 50 Fat Celebrities in the first place?

And our new President of the United States, the man who deserves our utmost respect and admiration, nicely cemented my opinion of him when, in an interview with Matt Lauer, he glanced at a magazine cover of Jessica and said she "is in a weight battle, apparently." Glad to see he's jumped right in to dealing with our nation's most pressing concerns.

I am so bleeping tired of these beautiful, healthy celebrity women getting slammed for putting on a few pounds, or (gasp!) wearing a bikini that shows a few thigh dimples. And we wonder why teenage girls are becoming more and more anorexic. They see someone like Jessica Simpson being called fat and believe that they must need to be skinnier, in order to not be "fat." Heck, our own President decided to help the nation's teen eating disorder problem along by calling a pop star (whose body I am positive almost every teenage girl covets) fat. Thanks for that, Obama.

Bottom line, this needs to stop. It is insulting. It is degrading. It is dangerous and hurtful and sad. And it's a complete double standard. If a male celebrity puts on some weight, not a word is said until he loses it, if he does. Then it's "How Great! So and So Lost 30 Lbs.!"

I'm not Jessica Simpson's biggest fan by any means. But when I see injustice, it makes me mad. I'll make fun of ridiculous clothes, sure, but make fun of someone's weight? Someone who still weighs less than most women alive? It makes me scared for our world. And really, who am I to say the girl can't rock a tank top and mom jeans if she wants?

Friday, February 6, 2009

Taking A Stroll Around The Writer's Block

I worried this would happen. I was on such a roll with my novel, and then I stopped when this job came along because I obviously had to spend all my spare time writing the "test" cover blurbs. (Which ended up being very real cover blurbs, not test ones at all.) Now that I've got the job and a schedule and can spread out the writing, things have calmed down a bit and I can have a little bit of down time to write my book. But, after not touching it for two weeks, my suspicions that I would go back to it and hate it were confirmed. It is so beyond frustrating I can't even tell you.

Bill said, "No. I don't care if you hate it. You are going to keep writing it. You will never finish a book if you keep doing this, and you've done it a million times. You were too excited about this one to give it up." This is one of the few things I do that Bill is passionate about, so I know I have to do what he says. And he's right. I was way too excited about this one to give it up. But I still think it's going to be hard to get back the love for it that I once had.

Bill also keeps telling me, "This is your first book." Meaning, it doesn't have to be a masterpiece, in fact, no matter how hard you try, it won't be. And, although I know he's absolutely right, everything in me says differently. I think it does have to be a masterpiece, or at least a huge success, and these are my arguments to back this up:

1. J.K. Rowling. First time she ever picked up a pen and started writing, the world was gifted with the phenomenon that is Harry Potter.

2. Stephenie Meyer. No explanation needed.

3. I truly believe a person's first published work will make them or break them. If my first book is crap, or even mediocre, who would publish me again? Who would buy another book that I wrote again? No one.

4. If I'm going to spend a year or more of my life writing a book, it will be my masterpiece. It will be a part of me, my own creation, my baby. It has to be amazing. I don't do mediocre. That defeats the whole purpose of doing this. I write to feel. And I don't feel mediocre. I feel amazing, or heartbreaking, or powerful.

So you see, it does have to be a masterpiece (sorry honey, you're wrong.) Bill says I'm putting too much pressure on myself and therefore I am self-destructing before I've even started. About this, he is absolutely right. I've done this my whole life. But I don't know how to fix this. Even the great Stephenie advises new writers to write as if no one will ever read it. I can't do that, because if I thought no one would ever read it, I wouldn't write it. I write every word with the reader in mind, because that's how I judge whether or not what I'm writing is readable.

By the length of this post, you can see I have no problems writing. I can write and write and write till the cows come home. But what I don't have is a story to tell. So I'm asking you, O Faithful Readers of mine, to help me out. Give me some ideas. What do you think I should write about? You can be serious, be funny, give me a one word answer (excluding the word "vampires"), or give me a full-on plot. Then I will pick my favorite and write the book and make millions. Just kidding. But I might pick my favorite, just for fun.

So...what should I write my book about?

Wednesday, February 4, 2009

Will the REAL American Idol Judges Please Stand Up

Let's talk American Idol. Season Eight.

I really, really like American Idol. I'm not like, a crazy superfan, (you know the type, those obnoxious people who find something they love and become overly obsessive about it? Yeah...those type.) but I do like me some A.I.

Season Eight has not disappointed. It's been as entertaining as all the rest (although that statement makes it seem like all the other seasons were entertaining, and anyone who watched Season Three knows that just isn't true.) and promises just as much talent. I've enjoyed it immensely.

Except one thing.

Cara. Cair-a. Cah-ra. Either way, I'm not a fan. Let me tell you why.

1. I am a firm believer in "if it isn't broke, don't fix it," at least when referring to judges on American Idol. WTC, people? It was just fine. Seven seasons of the same three people with their quirks and their corny jokes and their faux lover's quarrels. Three people we all grew to love. So why, in the name of Mike, would they suddenly decide to throw in a fourth person? It throws everything off when they vote. Oftentimes it's two against two, creating a tie, which apparently means the contestant has made it through (???) Two out of three made a whole lot more sense.

2. Who is she? Is she a singer? Is she a producer? Is she a songwriter? They've made reference to all three, but it's all a bit shady in my opinion. And apparently she has fans but I've never heard of her which means she can't be all that famous.

3. She dominates the judge's panel. She ALWAYS has to get a word in. Even on the ridiculous people who tried out with the hopes of getting on tv, the horrible ones that Simon, Randy and Paula know not to waste any breath on, she still has to jump in there with her wealth of knowledge on all things musical and give said contestant sound advice. Lighten up...some of these are meant to receive the blank stare from the judges and nothing more.

4. If there was any chance of me liking this woman, it was gone with Bikini Girl. I know you remember Bikini Girl, because, hello, she was mostly naked when she auditioned and she talks like a porn star. I love that Paula and Cair-uh were disgusted by her--I was disgusted by her. It's people like her that make me ashamed to be a woman. But I gotta give the girl props for calling it exactly as it was last night when she said that Cah-ruh started to feel threatened and that's why she had to sing. It was so the truth. I was so unbelievably annoyed when she (Cair-u) jumped up and started singing a Mariah Carey song, dancing all hip-hopish. I was embarrassed for her but mostly I wanted to punch her. Kudos to you, Cer-ah. You wanted us to all know what a fabulous singer you are and you found a way. You can sleep better tonight knowing you sing better than Bikini Girl.

5. Her shirts. I wonder if it is actually against her religion to cover her shoulders.

Okay, I'm getting nit-picky here, but in all seriousness, something about her just rubs me the wrong way. You know it's bad when she makes me love Paula.

So...weigh in. Do you like Ckairhuh?

Monday, February 2, 2009

Like A Bad After School Special

(I Googled a picture of Jessie and couldn't believe it when
I saw this, from the actual scene I am referring to. But
they did spell her name wrong.)

Do you remember that episode of Saved By The Bell where Jessie experiments with drugs? (And by experiments with drugs I mean took a couple of energy pills to stay awake) And Zack finally confronts her in her bedroom and she gets all manic and starts yelling "NO TIME!! THERE'S NEVER ANY TIME!! I DON'T HAVE TIME TO EAT, I DON'T HAVE TIME TO SLEEP..." and then she starts singing "I'm So Excited"? Remember that? No? Just me? Huh. Weird.

Anywho, I can really relate to poor Jessie right now. Not with the whole drug experimenting, but with the lack of time. This is how I feel. It has become my number one issue in life right now. (Because there is always one.) I swear the days are getting shorter, just to spite me. So short, in fact, that I don't even have time to blog. Yeah, I just said that.

This is so not cool. When there's no time for blogging, you know something's wrong in the world. I mean, we never have enough time to clean the house, or make dinner, or play with our kids, but blogging? I always make time for blogging.

So what, you ask, has me so busy? This, I answer:


Yeah, I have no idea what keeps me so busy. I go go go all day and at the end of the day I have no idea what to tell my husband that I got done that day. It's enough to make me want to cry. But I don't, because apparently that gene does not get passed along in my family.

The saddest thing is, I haven't even started my new job yet. If I had started, I could say, "Oh, I'm so busy working." But no. I'm busy just doing...stuff.

I wonder if Jessie will loan me some of her "energy pills."