Monday, September 29, 2008

"deck" the halls

This weekend was all about projects that needed to get done before the coldness of winter arrives. For the last few months, we've been doing a lot of talking, but not a lot of walking when it comes to our project list. So, this weekend, with the help of Bill and Jan (Brad's Dad and step-mom) we all rolled up our sleeves and got the deck stained.

It was frickin hot on Sunday afternoon as we applied the stain, with nearby Nascar noise and neighbors cheering at the Chief's vs. Bronco's as the day's soundtrack. More than a few times I worried about heat exhaustion for Bill, who refused to come down from his ladder to get a drink of water. After about 4 hours, two gallons of stain, one wasp nest, one trip to Lowe's and thirteen thousand brush strokes, we stepped back and surveyed our work. Satisfied with the result, we headed to Outback for some much deserved cocktails and tasty lunch before Bill and Jan headed home. It feels awfully nice to put a big fat check mark next to "Stain the Deck" on our to-do list. Thanks for your help, Bill and Jan!




The deck before...or should I say during, its transformation







The "after". Soooo much better!






Our beautiful deck is no longer an eye-sore or a splinters magnet!

Thursday, September 25, 2008

thursday shoes

Hold the phone. Ugg has just made a new fan for life. Yes I knew they made comfy shmumfy boots for those cold winter days when all you want to do is snuggle. But high fashion? I never would have guessed.

Whilst looking for a pair of yowzers for this blog today, I stumbled onto the hub's favorite web-site. www.zappos.com I've always assumed it was a boy's shoe site. Um, no. They have everything, and then some. And today I found these:



Granted, they cost more than my monthly car payment, but...wow. Adorable. That's all I can really say.

PS- I still do love the original Uggs that everyone but me has. Allow me to be bold, though, and say that I would glady take a knock-off pair of Ugg comfy shmumfy boots if it meant I got to clomp around in the Raya's this fall. How fabulous would I be?? I mean, really.

Wednesday, September 24, 2008

and then there was light...

I was all sad this morning after my blog entry and really needed a pick-me-up. And I don't mean shots of Jagermeister. Leave it to the editor over at Shawnee Magazine to help me out. My very first freelance magazine article assignment awaited me in my inbox this afternoon after one of my appointments. It was like a little journalistic Christmas gift with shiny pink ribbon. I was ecstatic when I saw it had finally arrived. I kind of wanted to kiss it.

Obviously I'm not going to tell you exactly what the topic is, but let's just say it fits me like a favorite pair of jeans (duh, that's totally a hint). The article will be drop in December in Shawnee Magazine, hopefully just in time for ho ho ho's and tinkling bells. Don't worry, I'll be sure to let you now when it's out and you can knock over old ladies to get to it.

Though totally elated when I got the email today, I was in my car all by myself - with no one to hug. Therefore I am sending out a virtual hug to all of my readers (that's right, all 15 of you!) that take the time to stop by once in a while to hear all about the goings on in Kim's world. This is a pretty cool step in life for me, and I'm very excited and putting lots and lots of pressure on myself. Stay tuned...

a long fight ended

Everyone has neighbors. Not everyone gets along with the people that are two or three houses away from them. In fact, some people do everything they can to avoid contact with the people that share their street. Growing up, this was not the case for me. My parents are still very, very best friends with the two families that lived down the street from us for over 20 years. Each of the two families had children near or around my siblings and my age, and we would play outside, inside, down the street, at the park, in the pool and anywhere else our parents would allow us to.

Naturally, my Mom couldn't always be watching us, so the other families' Mom's became authority figures for us as well. Jan, one of the mothers of my neighbor friends, became almost a second mother to me. My brother, sister and I spent so much time at her house eating her cheese and crackers, playing her sons' Nintendo and hiding under her stairs during tornadoes, that she truly became family to us. We listened when she said yes, we ignored her when she said no, and most importantly we respected her when she said, "you've been here all day, go home to your own house so I can get some peace."

Just under a year ago, Jan was diagnosed with leukemia. I would give you all the pertinent information about what kind and how it worked, but I am unfortunately cancer-knowledge retarded. Though I've been somewhat immersed in the verbiage for going on 11 months, I still don't understand...anything.

During Jan's time in the hospital, I would receive up-dates from my Mom. Words like platelets, chemo, bone marrow, and hemoglobin were always used, but the words were like a gigantic mathematical puzzle. I knew they meant something, but it never came together in my head. All I could do was offer my support and understanding, and I probably didn't even do that very well. And I all I know now is, cancer is a roller coaster. Some days are good, some days are very bad, and some days just plain occur whether you want them to or not. And all I could do the entire time was pray and hope.

On Saturday, my parents and the other neighbor family I mentioned earlier had an opportunity to play cards (one of their favorite pastimes) with Jan and her husband for the first time in way too long. Though she got very tired very quickly, I'm sure it was still a wonderful way to welcome her home and back to normalcy. Unfortunately, Jan suffered a stroke not more than two days later, and she lost her battle yesterday in the afternoon.

Now I am left with mixed feelings and a lot of questions. Why did cancer choose this person? Is there some sort of evil cancer cupid that shoots random arrows at people? There doesn't seem to be a rhyme or reason to any of it.

I meant this to be a short story, but you know me - I can't tell one of those. I feel horrible for my friends that have lost their Mom entirely too early. I feel awful for Jan's husband who probably can't even think straight right now. I feel completely unable to help or offer any sort of advice at all. Many of you have lost loved ones to cancer. And I know you will tell me that eventually the hurt goes away...so I guess I'm just waiting.

Monday, September 22, 2008

brad's turn

I did it to myself, so I had to see what the hub would have looked like in these pictures, too. It's just impossible to resist.

B-rad's life was crushed in 1990 when New Kid's On the Block decided they didn't need a 6th member after all.


Oooo weee oooo, I look just like Buddy Holly!!




Voulez-vous coucher avec moi? Huh huh! You are so boo-te-ful, I wish to kees yoo on your Amer-ee-can leeps!

All-American basket ball star Brad Antisdel is 6'2", and 6'4" with the afro. Bow chica bow wow!

best website ever

Ever wonder what you'd look like if you had your Mom's hairstyle from high school? www.yearbookyourself.com gives you that opportunity. My friend Jamie from high school turned me onto this today and I had way too much fun giving myself 60's and 80's do's. Check 'em out and then go on the website and try it yourself. Put a picture of your face in the provided spot, then pick a year and watch as you are transformed into a yearbook photo from days gone by. I'm thinking about trying out picture #2. What do we think?

1982 picture. And I know I had this style at one time or another. I just don't think there's any photographic evidence of it.



1964. You know you love it.

pop a top, it's the first day of fall


Yes, soda is bad for you. I know this. But I love it. With all of my little heart and soul. The sound of the millions of bubbles popping and stirring in my glass, the jolt of the cold liquid as it fizzles down my throat. I've had too many people tell me, "just try ice tea. It's still caffeine, but better for you. And it's sophisticated." To which I want to reply, does tea come in a super cool red and white aluminum cans that go "hisssss POP!" when you crack it open? No. Does tea taste like fresh dirt that I picked up out of my yard and tasted just for fun? Yes. Does iced tea instantly make me feel better when I'm having a crap day? No. Does iced tea lead me to believe I'm drinking really, really old water that has in some way fermented into a disgusting brown existence? Yes. And besides, iced tea is not sophisticated. It makes me think of elderly ladies shakily eating Jell-O at Old Country Buffet in a cloud of formaldehyde perfume. Gross. I'll take poisonous soda over that any day.


Bottom line, my love of soda isn't going anywhere. It may be horrible for me, it maybe be chalk full of toxic chemicals that are the reason my hair falls out in piles. But it's here to stay, and I have accepted that. It doesn't mean I can't control myself though. I limit myself to one a day (okay two if the occasion calls for it) and I try and drink water to balance that out. But today my friends, all bets are off. It's officially the first day of fall. The air is crisp and so is my Diet Dr. Pepper. So crack one open and leave your inhibitions with your Lipton. Just for one day. You'll thank me later.
PS- special thanks to Judy for being unashamed of her soda obsession right along with me.

lazy weekend

Not much to update you on for the weekend. No drama, no thunderstorms, no broken bones, no disasters. We did our best to enjoy every waking moment of sunshine and beautiful weather. Sunday Brad and the neighbor boys watched football all day and the wives had a chance to actually sit and talk about something other than football for a change. We might just have to make this a weekly tradition.

Here are some pictures from Taylor's bike ride with Daddy. It looks dangerous but they literally went down the street and came right back. She loved every second of it.








Thursday, September 18, 2008

thursday shoes


I don't know why I keep calling this blog entry Thursday shoes when I always end up posting them on Friday. Nonetheless, here's the pump o' the week! Though I attended KU and the hub is die hard Iowa State, I still love my purple. It can add just that little punch of color that your outfit is missing, and it's a perfect color for fall. In fact, purple and plums are the standard for color this fall. Walk through any department store and you'll feel like you're in Manhattan, KS.

These Stuart Wetzman "Wicky" Slingbacks are the perfect coordinate to any outfit. With their adorable peep toe and super high heel, you'll stick out like a really well-manicured thumb! Make sure you log a few extra hours at work before you buy them, though. At $335 for the pair of these pretty purples, your checkbook might feel a little light after purchasing...

baby steps


Have you ever done something you wish you could take back? Or said something so stupid that you would give anything to reach out and grab the words back before they made it to your loved ones ears? Well, I did just that to the hub last night. Said things I didn't mean out of frustration and anger (completely unjustified anger, too) and basically made a Grade A jackass out of myself. Today I've been walking around in a fog, trying to sort out the what, why and how of the stupidest person I have ever been.

Very slowly I am learning that shoving problems in the back of the proverbial closet and hoping they go away is not an option in a marriage. All you get are the same problems covered in dust bunnies. I'm the first to admit that bottling up emotions and thoughts is my numero uno fault. Rather than discussing issues as they arise like a normal person, I craftily gather up each thought and problem and place it carefully in my Hoover Dam of hidden issues. Problem is, the dam can only hold so much. Eventually the levy breaks and everything comes out at once, leaving Brad (and any other poor shmuck who happens to be nearby) confused and bewildered.

So how do I fight it? All my life I've been like this, it isn't something that goes away without a concerted effort. I'm clueless as to where to begin. How does one change a 27 year old habit? It's like learning to walk all over again. Problem? Talk about it. Another problem? Talk about it. It sounds so simple, and yet for me, it is the hardest thing to do. I guess you have to crawl before you walk.

You may be surprised at my writing about such a personal and embarrassing subject, but this blog is just as much a journal of my life as it is a vehicle for poking fun at celebrities' pants. Good and bad happen in life, but if the bad never sees daylight, you can't learn from it. Well folks, I'm learning. At a snail's pace, but I'm learning.

Wednesday, September 17, 2008

winds of change

I feel sorry for those of you who don't live here right now. Take the most beautiful day you've ever encountered and multiply it by 7. That's Kansas. For now, anyway. Seven glorious days of high 70's and mid 50's. And frankly, it's too nice to be inside blogging. I would imagine when God created the earth in 7 days, this was the general weather pattern He preferred. Why He didn't make the entire earth this temperature all year every yaer, well, I dunno. Something to ask later I suppose...

I'm going to go for a walk, or at least sit on my porch and do some work. After all, I have no doubt that there are only a few days left until snow starts falling.

Tuesday, September 16, 2008

weighing in

Staying in shape is not easy. Everyone knows that. I, for one, am extremely hard on myself for eating that extra cookie, missing that afternoon jog, feverishly licking the remaining ranch out of the ramekin at the restaurant...you get the point. This brings me to my frustration of the day. Tabloids, the media and their obsession with weight watching on celebrities.

Today I saw this article on People. Eva Longoria Parker has apparently put on some pounds. Like, six of them. This is highly newsworthy. Since gaining these lbs, the media has constantly speculated that she's got a bun in the oven. Of course, because that's the most logical step. The media frenzy around this has been so overwhelming that Eva's co-stars feel compelled to comment. Felicity Huffman has been quoted saying, "she's just fat, that's all there is to it!"

Can you imagine the embarrassment of having to tell millions of people, "Look, I've just put on some weight. No pregnancy, no thyroid problem, I just ate too many Ding Dong's." And the worst part is, Eva Longoria is not fat!! She's not even slightly pudgy. Look at the picture in the article.

So here's my issue - some 13 year old girl is going to read that article and look at the picture of Eva while she is "fat". Then that young girl (who is still going through body changes by the hour) is going to stand in front of a mirror, look at herself and think, "I must be obese!" And then it will start. Skipped meals, liquid diets, purging, laxatives...it may not turn into that for everyone, but if it happens to just one person, that's too many.

Five years ago I never would have blinked twice at this article. But now I have two daughters who are tuned in to every move I make. Makayla has seen me drinking a soda before and asked, "Why do you like diet pop? Are you on a diet?" Kids are smarter than we give them credit for, and they absorb absolutely everything. And it doesn't take much to absorb the word FAT next to a woman who's perfectly healthy.

I don't really know where I'm going with this; it mostly just frustrates me. I guess my question would be, who is responsible for the kinds of things printed in the media? I'm all for the right to speak your opinion, but if your opinion is purely motivated by the desire to sell magazines, what kind of a system is that? Where is the sense of responsibility?

Monday, September 15, 2008

annoyed

Why is it that deodorant runs out when you just need it to last long enough to coat the other arm? I guess today my right armpit will be shower fresh and the other will be used to ward off potential muggers??

do you hear that?

It's the sound of serenity. Of peace. Of (almost) total and complete organization...

The hard truth is that until the basement is finished, I need a solution for my office. The kitchen table works nicely as a workspace but it's distracting when there is so much crap covering it that it's difficult to remember what color the table actually is. And it makes eating a challenge as well. My office is the single largest source of mania in our house. And Saturday Brad had enough of it. So...we bought a filing cabinet. Ta Da!!! Within half an hour, almost all of the papers were organized into neat little things called files (pronounced "feel-a's"? I don't know, it's new to me) and suddenly, I had room to breathe.

I didn't take a before picture but the after speaks for itself.




As far as the rest of the weekend goes, this one ranks in my top ten of all time. As you all probably know, we are one of the traveling-est couples to hit the US since the Oregon Trail. From Liberty to Iowa to Topeka to Oklahoma to Minnesota and back again, Brad and I have not had a "Staycation" in a long, long time. This weekend we put the car in park and stayed put. Kind of.

Friday we rented some movies and chilled on the sofa. Saturday we awoke with hunger pains and traveled to Sam's and HyVee for some much needed (and healthy) sustenance. Sunday we attacked the carpet, showers, sinks, sheets and office (see above) with a vengeance and made everything sparkly and new again. Then, after watching the Chiefs stink up Arrowhead stadium, we took a trip up to Liberty to look at some houses in the Parade of Homes. Yes I know, technically this is considered traveling, but I've decided that it doesn't count. We were only there an hour, and there was no sense of time or urgency on the clock forcing us to arrive or leave at any certain time. So there. Sunday night was football again (gotta love the Fantasy stuff) and head to pillow followed shortly thereafter.

The greatest part of this weekend was getting to see my husband for more than 10 minutes at a time and having him all to myself. I didn't have to entertain anyone else or worry about where we needed to go next and when to get there. I'm thinking the goal will be to have one of these kinds of weekends a little more often in the coming months. After all, we're still technically newlyweds. I think we deserve it.

Sunday, September 14, 2008

fire in the sky


On Friday and last night, we had some very interesting weather. Between the tornado warnings and constant rain, the sky was bound to put on quite a display. We had one of the largest and clearest rainbows I have ever seen in my life. I ran in the house to grab my camera, ran back out to snap a pic, and realized the battery was dead. It took a good 10 minutes to charge and by the time I was able to get a picture, the beautiful rainbow had faded. I did get a nice picture of the sky sans rainbow though, and it was just as captivating.

Friday, September 12, 2008

what the...

So ten minutes ago I quickly log on to my blog to see if anyone has left a comment (it's my favorite part of the day when I have comments to read) on the recent blog posts - I have 9. I find myself getting excited. My readers must have really loved today's shoe selection. Generally there are 3, maybe 4 comments!! The pink boots must have arisen fashion excitement in the readers, right? Wrong.

All 9 comments are from completely random and bizarre people who apparently struggle with the English language. My top three faves are:


Third Place:

comment from: mobile wife
the comment: "yeah! its much better"
my thoughts: What a relief! being a stationary wife would be difficult, I'm sure.

Second Place:

comment from: cool dude game
the comment: "i'm here because of a few cents for you. just dropping by"
my thoughts: Is he confusing me with a really, really cheap hooker?

First Place for Most Random Comment:

comment from: divorce lawer guam
the comment: "help me"
my thoughts: You're the lawyer, shouldn't you be helping me?

Is it possible that my blog has been hacked or something? I know nothing about this, but I'm leaving the comments up for if you need a chuckle.

thursday shoes, on friday


In keeping with my ode to fall, this morning I searched for shoes that were weather and season appropriate. While looking for myself, I somehow landed in the baby section of Nordstrom's web-site (imagine that) and found these boots. One word. Precious.

I am all for little girls looking dainty and adorable and cute as a button. But imagining a little girl tromping a huge rain puddle in these boots is a fantastic visual. The best part is, these Timberland Oslo Express Boots are available for babies, toddlers and kids!! Go on; off you go to purchase one for each cycle of your child's life! And PS- they come in brown, too. You can't go wrong.

this morning

i decided i love fall because:
  • "I got new pencils!" is a totally acceptable phrase
  • food in the trash takes longer to start smelling
  • the electric bill drops for the briefest of weeks
  • a bad pedicure can remain a secret beneath socks
  • shaving legs becomes relatively optional
  • the sun doesn't peek through the curtains on saturday morning until well after 7.00
  • "summer's over" sales
  • boots. boots. boots.
  • paired with scarves. scarves. scarves.
  • and jeans. jeans. jeans.
  • listening to james taylor with warm cocoa makes more sense in october
  • memories are more vivid when you let stillness help you remember
  • the best named months of the year are in fall: september, october, november.
  • snuggliness is next to godliness
  • sweatshirts are back and bigger than ever. although maybe just in my world.
  • uggs (which have managed to remain in the store window and not in my closet. ahem.)
  • memories of elementary school halloween parties
  • fantasy football guarantees (some) snuggling on the couch.
  • fall tv (prison break, 24, project runway etc. etc.)
  • pumpkin candles, pumpkin lotion, pumpkin piei met the hub in october
  • tailgating
  • walking hand and hand is always better when the leaves around you are on fire with color
  • orange orange everywhere
  • i swear to everything holy that i actually morph into a better version of myself in fall

Thursday, September 11, 2008

so happy

My dream is on its way to coming true. No, I didn't get a book deal with HarperCollins because of my ridiculous reality star status. BUT, I do get to write an article for a magazine here in KC! I've known about this for awhile, but didn't want to jinx it by talking about it before I positively knew it was going to happen.

My mother-in-law (Janette) knows several people throughout the publishing world. It just so happens one of those people is in Kansas. Knowing how desperate I was to get something (anything) published, Janette graciously called one of her contacts and set up an opportunity for me to meet with an editor about a freelance job. And I got it!! The paperwork for me to sign arrived earlier this week, and once the proverbial red tape is finished, I will get my first real magazine assignment!

The publication is called Shawnee Magazine and is put out by Sunflower Publishing in Lawrence. I will be writing an article for this magazine which highlights the life and styles of Shawnee, KS. Not sure what my story will be yet as the assignments haven't gone out. I'll keep you posted. I'm pretty sure I won't be writing articles a la Carrie Bradshaw quite yet... but you never know what the future will bring!

Wednesday, September 10, 2008

Monday, September 8, 2008

a road less (or never) traveled

I am so not an expert when it comes to matters of divorce/split-ups, especially when there are children involved. More especially when my children are involved. I call upon all of you readers to help shed some of your experience on a subject I was lucky enough to have avoided growing up, but am faced with head on now.

Last night, after a fantastic weekend (which is not documented with photos because I forgot the damn camera) Brad and I settled on the couch to watch Sunday Night Football. Armed with nutritious Sonic foot long wieners and gigantic Dr. Pepper's, we were ready for a night of much needed relaxation and muchly more deserved indigestion.

Halfway through the game, Brad's cell phone beeps. He has a text from the girls' mom. I assumed one of the girls had left something behind this weekend; certainly it was nothing that would cause lifting my head off the couch pillow. Wrong-o. The text stated that Makayla had been crying most of the night because she wants her Daddy and Mommy to live together like a family. Whoa. Nelly.

Gut reaction: Makayla secretly hates me. Accurate? No. Paranoid and rather selfish to think this is even remotely about me? Absolutely.

Second reaction: WHAT DO WE DO? Obviously this is not going to go away. Angie is asking Brad to help because she clearly can't be expected to handle it alone.

SO...that leaves the obvious question. What brought this on? I can think of two possibilities:

a) Brad and Angie attended Parent Teacher Conferences last week together. I did not attend because that would have been too many cooks in the kitchen. Perhaps Makayla saw Mommy and Daddy together and it stirred up some emotions from the past? Makayla is old enough to remember Brad and Angie when they were together, and I'm sure that was a nice (and familiar) feeling seeing them together in her school.

b) Makayla has just reached that age where she is beginning to wonder why her friends have parents who live together and she doesn't. It probably doesn't seem very fair.

Thursday is our weekly dinner with the girls. I'm thinking perhaps Brad and Angie should sit down with Makayla before then. She's just started 2nd grade and I hate to think of her focusing on this issue rather than her schoolwork and friends. She's just- I don't know- too young to be worrying about stuff like this, and I want to hug her and make it all go away.

Unfortunately, this is one of those situations where I essentially need to lay low and let Kayla's Mommy and Daddy help her out. It's not a great feeling, knowing that I'm expected to be a Mom in all other ways, but can't, in the end, be there for her when I most want to. It's a helluva bum deal, but there it is. And with my limited experience in these matters, I sort of feel like an infant being tossed into giant waves and told "Learn how to swim. And make it quick."

Needless to say, between Makayla's questions, the foot long hot dog, and my feelings of helplessness and third-wheelishness, my indigestion is still with me this morning. I don't think Pepto Bismol is going to help it go away.

As a kid, adults told me that growing up was hard to do. I rather stupidly assumed they meant until I was 18. I gotta tell you, ages 1-18 were a friggin' cake walk. I have this horrible feeling that the older I get, the harder the learning gets. Not sure I'm ready for it....

Friday, September 5, 2008

who you gonna call?

This is the best news I've heard all week. A 3rd installment of the greatest 80's movies ever? Nice shootin, Tex. Bill Murray may be pushing 60, but I have no doubt that he can still handle his Proton Pack. The question is, will Sigourney Weaver come back, too? You really can't have a Ghostbuster's movie without the Gatekeeper, right?

http://www.people.com/people/article/0,,20223681,00.html

thursday shoes


I mean to post this yesterday and never got around to it. Today's selection falls into the "would you or wouldn't you" category. This L.A.M.B. Camden Bootie is a show stopper. You aren't going to wear it and blend into the crowd. I don't even know if I'd be brave enough to slip these booties on. Fortunately I don't have to be too concerned; at $430, even on ebay this shoe is unattainable.


Design wise, I think it's a phenomenal display of how good design can make even the craziest thing seem normal. Check out the little intricate print on the heel. And don't even get me started on the layered petals. That my friends, is called attention to detail, and it's exactly why Gwen Stefani's line of clothing and shoes has done so well. Say what you will about her music (bizarre-0), but the girl's got a flair for high fashion, and she understands what design is all about. Now if she could just make her shoes available for those of us who don't make three grand every hour of the day.

Thursday, September 4, 2008

baby fever cure

The hub and I met Bryan and Kristin for some Dairy Queen blizzards last night to catch up on life. Just FYI, Kristin is the cutest pregnant woman I have ever seen. She's all round tummy and cute boobs. No extra face fat, no wobbly Jell-O arms or cottage cheese thighs. I'd hate her if I didn't adore her.

We're all talking about the ever-closer baby arrival (sometime in December). Bryan was mostly focused on his lack of diaper changing abilities. Kristin and I pondered important stuff, like how much pain medication the hospital will allow before she's actually considered an addict.

As we all sat and talked, I couldn't help but notice how beautiful Kristin has become. I've always read about the "mama glow", and boy does she have it. The thing I love about Kristin is she doesn't constantly rub her belly or gush about the "blessed miracle" of her pregnancy. She's totally secure in herself and is surprisingly calm. The more I talk to her, the louder I hear it in my head. Tick tock tick tock tick tock. The biological clock is back. And the volume has been turned up.

After nearly two hours of conversation with our friends, I have decided my baby fever is fully back on. Brad insists it never left, reminding me that just the other night on the sofa I suddenly yelled at him, "I smell a baby on you! Were you around a baby today?" Of course, he had not been. I'm that insane.

So...anyway, today I'm at Target and hear "unnhhhhh...unnnhhhh...unnnhhhh." A baby! Kind of a cute wailing sound, except it literally sounds like a recording being played on repeat. The "unh" sounds for three seconds, stops for one second, and then starts again. I peek around the clothes rack to get a gander at the source of the noise. It's a little boy, maybe 1 year old, in his stroller trying to get Mom's attention. So not working. Baby keeps wailing. "unhhh....unhhhh....unnnhhhh." Mom ignores baby. Baby gets louder. And higher-pitched. I look around to see if anyone else's ears are bleeding.

Finally, Mom turns and looks down at baby, irritated. She then - I kid you not- reverts back to 3rd grade and begins to imitate the noise back at her child! Baby says "unhhh....unhhhh....unnnhhhh", Mom says "unhhh....unhhhh....unnnhhhh" right back. Baby is persistent and keeps going, so Mom begins singing along with baby in the same tone he is wailing. Two minutes later, in a moment straight out of The Infant Twilight Zone, ALL the babies in Target begin crying. At the same time.

In conclusion, baby fever is cured for today. If I never hear a sound like that again, it will be too soon.

Wednesday, September 3, 2008

arm candy

Cousin Aiden did not have such a happy Labor Day weekend. On Sunday he fell off one of those death traps big bouncy things you see at carnivals, and broke his arm. In two places. Ow ow ow ow ow. It hurts to even type about it. On the bright side, a cast appearing on his arm after a long weekend will make Aiden a total chick magnet at school. Which would be great if he liked girls more than cavity fillings.

Below are pics of brave Aiden's new accessory:






Aiden is left-handed! Looks like he might have to learn to be ambidextrous...

Tuesday, September 2, 2008

misfortune teller?

I have a gift. Or a curse, depending on how you look at it. I've always known I had a little ESP. But now, I think I can predict my future- if it's bad.

Last week I had this bizarre dream that my best friend Erin and I were in the parking lot of our high school in her car. We got out of her Equinox after eating lunch in it (please hold your questions until later) and began the walk back into school. Suddenly Erin screamed bloody murder and took off running, a string of inappropriate verbiage following close behind her. I turned around, only to discover that her vehicle was merrily rolling out of the parking lot on its own. Apparently she forgot to put the car in park. I watched in horror as the car turned (on its own) onto the neighboring street and was crushed into 1,000 pieces by oncoming traffic. I awoke, dripping in sweat and wondering what in the name of everything holy brought that dream on.

The dream faded throughout the morning, and a few hours later I was prepared for my first appointment of the day. But I was running a little late. Natch. I hopped into Brad's Scion (he was in Vegas at the time) and immediately noticed it needed gas. Of course. Cursing at myself for not filling up the night before, I pulled into the nearest station, leapt out of the car and started my ritual argument with the gas pump. Did I want a car wash? No. Did I want a receipt? No. I want to get gas. Fianlly, the pump squeaked at me, signaling it was ready. I turned around, gas dispenser in my hand. There was no car. Until I looked to my right. And saw the Scion rolling away. Because I never took it out of drive.

I can only imagine what a vision I was that day, dropping the gas dispenser like a hot potato and hoofing after the car in my 4" houndstooth heels. Granted, the Scion was only about 5' away, but if there had been someone getting gas behind me - I shudder to think. After catching up to my runaway car and putting on the brake, I took a quick look around to see if anyone had noticed (the attendant was probably on the phone with her doctor to have her side sewn up) and nonchalantly re-started the car to pull back up to the pump.

So you see, I can foretell my misfortune. And I gotta hand it to myself for catching up with a 3,000 pound hunk of metal and rubber. The bright side is the incident didn't end like my dream. Otherwise you would not be hearing this story as I would be working nights at Target to pay Brad back for his car.

Brad- I know you're hearing this story for the first time right now. The important things is, I'm okay.

all pumped up, with the air let out

So last night, I'm all excited. Prison Break season premiere starts at 7. Sweet. In addition, yesterday marked the beginning of my "Get Off Your Ass" program. It's catered to me, by me, for me. And mostly it involves getting use out of my elliptical machine once again. For the last few months it's been sitting in the basement, lethargically gathering dust.

The plan was to eat a farewell to fat foods meal for lunch, get all jazzed up, and be on the elliptical at 7.00 sharp to watch Michael Scofield be all sexy. Perfect plan. So there I was, at 6.45, dressed and ready to go. I kissed Brad buh-bye and headed down to the basement. I turned on the TV, put my bottle of water in the cup holder on the machine, stretched a bit and hopped on, ready to roll. Then I realized the television was a bit quiet. Or silent. Muttering obscenities to myself, I got off the elliptical, grabbed the remote and turned up the volume. Nada. Zilch. Zero. What the #%$@? You see people, this is why I hate technology. You spend $85 a month for channels in HD, and all the best packages. Then when you need it the most, the little cable box takes a big fat dump right on your exercise plans.

Long story kind of short, I reset the cable box and conceded to watching the show upstaris sans workout equipment. Nearly an hour later, the television downstairs worked loud and clear. By this time, I had made myself pity guacamole and consumed roughly 43 corn chips. Looks like the workouts will begin tonight.

Monday, September 1, 2008

goals

Here's the plan. Today we are going to attempt to:
  • Hang our beautiful address symbols that Bryan and Kristin gave us over a year ago for our wedding day.
  • Install the IKEA towel rack in our bathroom
  • Hang pendant lights on each side of the bed. This particular project is going to be a marriage saver. No more arguing about who's turn it is to flick off the bedroom light
  • Visit our friends' Stacy and Justin's new house
  • Install handles to cabinets in bathroom

We'll see what happens. Don't hold your breath. I have to consult the Household Handbook, but I'm fairly certain that in the case of a nice day, motorcycle riding supersedes boring chores.