Thursday, January 29, 2009

a REAL letter to my step-daughter

So...you all get that yesterday's blog was a joke, right? I feel I must clarify in case someone has Child Services on the phone right now.

The truth is, yesterday's blog started out as a serious entry. The idea for writing a letter to my daughter came from a magazine article I read a few months back.

In the article, some writer's had the idea to compose letters to their children of the future. For example, a man writes a letter for his son to read the first time he wrecks the family car. Or a mother writes a letter for her daughter to read before her first date.

I thought this was a spectacular idea and sat down yesterday fully intending to write a similar letter to my step-daughter. Unfortunately, images of The Real Housewives of Orange County parenting skills kept popping into my head, and I decided to explore what a letter from them to a child might sound like.

So today, I will compose a letter to my eldest step-daughter for real. This time I'm being serious...


To My Oldest Step-Daughter During Her First Break Up:

I know it hurts. You can't begin to imagine how well I know that it hurts. You feel like you can't breathe, and that someone is drilling a hole right through your heart, and laughing as you bleed. And no matter what Daddy or I or Mommy say, it doesn't make the pain go away.

I wish I could tell you that the pain won't last very long, and that everything will be all right in the morning. But honestly, tomorrow might even hurt more than today. And the next day after that might even be worse than tomorrow. But you know what? When you get to the point where you think it can't possibly hurt any more, it will somehow start to get better.

One morning you will wake up and you'll make it all the way to the shower without thinking about him. And the next morning, you might make it to your locker before you remember what he's putting you through. There will always be the memory of what happened, but with each passing day, that memory will fade.

I know that right now Daddy and I aren't helping much. We try to cheer you up by telling you stories of when our hearts were broken, and how we got through it. I know we tell you that you're better off without him, and you deserve a guy who wouldn't do this to you. And while all those things are true, they aren't making the ache go away.

I know he seems like the only boy for you. You love the way he waited for you after class and called you special nicknames. I know you have inside jokes that Daddy and I will never hope to figure out. I know you are staring at the phone and waiting for him to call, picking it up every few minutes to make sure there's a dial tone. I know the longer you stare at it, the more you beat yourself up because it isn't ringing.

You don't understand why this is happening. The truth is, you may not have that answer for a very, very long time. But I do know this - someday it will make sense.

Maybe the greatest guy you've ever known is going through this exact same heartache right now. He is lost in a sea of tears and confusion too, and he's waiting for someone like you to turn up...he just needs a little time to find you.

Maybe when your heart has healed from all of this, you will meet that great guy. And you won't even be looking for him. And because you've both been hurt, you will be sure to care of each other, to treat each other the way you always wanted to be treated. He will be worthy of you, and you will be worthy of him. And then maybe, just maybe, you will understand why all of this happened.

There is nothing I would rather do right now than snap my fingers and make your pain disappear. Seeing that you want to smile but just can't get the energy to do it...it breaks my heart. Seeing that you want to laugh, but are afraid it will turn into a sob...it makes me cry with you. Watching as you ask yourself again and again why you aren't good enough...it leaves me feeling completely helpless.

I have been through your situation more times than I can count. But do you know what I remember from those times? I remember knowing that my family was there for me. Seriously.

My Mom and Dad were there to watch ridiculous sitcom's with me on those first lonely Friday nights. And although they were certainly no substitute for an 11th grade stud-muffin to hold hands and make out with, hanging out with them certainly had its perks. I didn't have to worry if my sweatpants made my butt look big on the couch. They didn't care if I ate an entire tub of popcorn and then followed it with a 64 ounce soda. And ice cream. I didn't have to worry if I had butter breath when I hugged them good-night. And in the morning, Dad was always up and ready to make my favorite breakfast.

The truth is, after a few nights of unconditional (and kind of irritating) love from my silly, embarrassing family, I started to feel my batteries recharge. I began to feel like I could handle this situation. And the best part was, even if I was wrong, I knew I could come back home. And they would be waiting.

I know your heart isn't going to heal today, honey. Part of you is closed right now, and to open up would make it all that much harder. Just know you don't have to say anything. You don't have to tell us how you're doing. We'll already know. We know your happy face, your confused face, your hopeful face and your heartbroken face. And we love them all.

If you want to talk about anything, you can come to us and we will be here. With a big tub of popcorn.

Love,
Kim and Daddy

Wednesday, January 28, 2009

a letter to my daughter...



...if I was Lynne on "The Real Housewives of Orange County".


To My Lovely "M" on Her 18th Birthday:

Hello, my beautiful, perfect, exquisite daughter!! You are 18 today! Time has passed so quickly. It seems only yesterday we brought you home from the hospital. You don't remember this awful incident, but you almost made your debut in a homemade onesie your Grandma made.

God, she was so cheap.

Like my first born doesn't deserve a crisp white onesie from Fred Segal!? Thankfully Daddy put his foot down and we dressed you properly.

You were so beautiful when we showed you off that first day home. Everyone came over to see you! And though you did stain my new Gucci sweater when you overate and barfed, it was still a wonderful day. I called the pediatrician to make sure, but apparently many newborns eat too much at first. It's not a sign that they'll be obese later. Thank God.

Oh, and I'm sorry we don't have any pictures from that first week with you. I hadn't figured out which was your good side yet. I'm sure you understand.

As you got a little older, everyone gushed about how perfect you were. Of course, they weren't there when I had to apply humidity resistant gel to keep that damn cal lick of yours from flaring up. By age 2, you understood the abc's of hair care better than anyone else in your pre-school!

Of course, by middle school, everyone loved you. Daddy and I considered betrothing you to the cutest boy in your school, Jared. He was such a stud then. But I was worried he might turn out ugly or chubby. Some kids do that, you know.

You even had us worried at age 11, remember? Now looking back, aren't you glad I put you on that Slim-Fast plan? I still can't believe Dr. Johnson said it was responsible for stunting your growth. 5'1" is a perfectly normal height. And besides, I read somewhere that petite girls are more likely to maintain their figure as they get older, so I really did you a huge favor. If only my mother loved me that much!!

So anyways, you're graduating from high school this year! I know you aren't sure if college is right for you, but I think you'll definitely enjoy it. Just remember that beer causes bloating. Stick to soda water and vodka.

Yes, I know you aren't 21 yet, but I don't want your friends thinking I'm lame, so go ahead and drink. Just be careful! And you know if you ever need a ride home, call me! Just be aware that it'll take me a half hour to get my face on if I have to come and get you in the middle of the night. Remember, a lady always looks her best!

Also, I'm not going to encourage pot, but hell, I smoked like a chimney at your age, and I turned out totally fine. Just don't ever pay for it. With your boob size, you might have a hard time getting guys to pay for your drinks and pot, but don't worry too much. Daddy said I shouldn't spoil it, but guess who's getting boobies for her 19th birthday?!!!?? And maybe a tummy tuck...we'll wait and see if that little pooch of yours slims down after this year. I'm sure it will.

Anyways, I am so happy that you are 18 today! Your party starts in about 3 hours; I need to get ready! Shopping for your birthday dress last week was SO fun. I know you wanted that pink Prada dress, honey. I'm sorry you didn't get it, but really, I looked better in it. Even the sales lady said so. Mom's gotta look smokin' hot, too, right? You will be just as beautiful in your black Dolce and Gabanna strapless. Just make sure you do a few push-ups before you come out to the party. It'll make your arms look less jiggly! Oh, and I left a list of helpful exercises on your dresser. You're such a perfectionist, I know you'll get on that right away!

And honey, I'm sorry you think I disapprove of your current boyfriend. Caleb is a perfectly nice boy, but you have to think ahead. He's going to school for Landscape Design. No one ever made millions of dollars on their hands and knees digging up perennials. I'm just thinking of you.

When you're in college, lots of guys will want to date you. You'll have to come home every weekend and we'll spill juicy stories! I want to hear all about how you danced on tables with your top off! I could come party with you, even! I used to do crazy shit ALL the time. You can learn from the master!

Maybe after your party tonight I'll re-tell you the story about when I won $1,000 in a Not-So-Itty-Bitty Titty Committee Contest. We can tell all your friends too! I think I even have the video somewhere.

Well, I'm rambling now. Get dressed and I'll see you in a few hours. And just remember how much I love you and how proud I am of you! Oh, last thing...wear the 4" heels. I know that ankle injury from track last year really causes you pain, but your calves look SO much better in 4" heels. Remember, you'll have to look at these birthday pictures the rest of your life!

God, I can't wait to help you plan your wedding.

Love and Air Kisses,
Mom

Tuesday, January 20, 2009

an homage to hubs

Today's a very special day. Yes, Obama is being inaugurated, but more importantly it's Hubs birthday!

(And that means my birthday is exactly 6 weeks away. That's neither here nor there.)

(But if you MUST know, I'd love a Kindle.)

Anyways.

I would give you a long list of the fabulous items I purchased for him, on this his 28th year on earth, but I can't. Unfortunately, I am plagued with "Gift Giver's" disease.

(It's real. I swear.)

In other words, I cannot keep presents a secret or hidden for longer than 15 days.

Because I will explode.

Hubs' birthday is thisclose to Christmas, so I bought all of his birthday gifts during the allegedly amazing sales during the holiday season.

When it came time to open gifts on Christmas, I simply could not keep Hubs' birthday purchases in the closet until January 20th. So Hubs got all his gifts in one day. And now I have nothing left to give him.

(I sort of feel bad, but not really. He got his presents a month early. Is there anything better?)

So, instead of a gift with a pretty bow and fun wrapping, I will instead use this blog as a technological Hallmark card to tell Hubs how much I dig him.

(Even when he's in the basement screaming at his cordless drill for not working properly.)

Hubs, I love you more than anything in this whole world. And here's why:


1. You always smell good. Either like cookie dough, or a brand new baby. Depends on the day.

2. Your morning breath is actually not stinky.

3. You drive more carefully than my own mother. But not like an old man. Maybe that's why I fall asleep so easily when you're at the wheel.

4. You put everyone else before yourself.

5. You are seriously one of those guys who doesn't know how hot you are. And that makes you even hotter.

6. You refuse to read anything for any reason, and yet you still read my blog and let me make fun of you. And you only give me a hard time about it sometimes.

7. You hold my hand in public.

8. Even when we disagree, you always end up being right, and I always learn from it.

9. You are completely non-judgemental. We could all learn from you.

10. You can tell when I'm thinking about something, and you always ask what it is.

11. You are always willing to go to The Olive Garden with me.

12. When I'm sad, you know exactly how to make me laugh.

13. You know when I say, "Don't let me eat any junk food" that eventually I'm really going to want some. And you let me eat it.

14. When I have really bad gas, you toot right along with me.

15. Two words: handy man

16. You dance better than Usher, but you're totally humble about it.

17. You love your Mommy.

18. Everyone who meets you wants to be around you.

19. You are the best cuddler on the face of the planet.

20. If your feet stink, you wash them before you sit next to me.

21. You handle my paranoia and constant mood swings with dignity and grace.

22. You are happiest when I am laughing.

23. Your daughters worship you.

24. When we're in a crowd and get separated, you wait for me.

25. You are genuinely worried about me driving in snow.

26. When we talk on the phone, you always end the conversation with, "Bye, baby."

27. Not one day passes without you saying "I love you."

28. You sing "Check On It" better than Beyonce could ever dream.

29. At restaurants, you order what you think I would want to eat, because I always end up stealing your food.

30. You always remember what I said in my sleep, and give me a play by play the next morning.

31. If I have a nightmare, you wake me up and hold me until the bad guys go away.

32. You don't Dutch Oven me in the bed, even though I do it to you all the time.

33. You know all the words to every Dave Matthews song.

34. You are decisive and sure, in every situation.

35. You will do anything to make the girls happier, healthier and better.

36. You hug like a champion.

37. Even though I make no sense at all, you totally get what I'm saying.

38. You dress like a GQ model.

39. You're the most organized person I have ever known. And yet you still love me.

40. Your side of the closet looks like it's been cleaned by a maid.

41. You do the laundry. And wash the laundry. And put the laundry away.

42. You would rather die than be late.

43. You do everything better than me.

44. Your brain is equipped with built-in GPS.

45. You pause movies to explain when I'm confused about what is going on.

46. You tickle me just because you love my laugh so much.

47. You were able to forgive me on "Awful Mean Vodka Kim" night.

48. When someone is taking our picture, you pinch my butt to make my "real smile" come out.

49. It's hard for you to sleep without me there.

50. You have changed my life for the better in every way possible.

51. You understand my love of the Internet, blogging and my Blackberry could never be as deep as my love for you.

52. You let me wear your favorite sweat pants when I'm feeling grungy.

53. You quit smoking on the first try. And you've never looked back.

54. On our wedding day, you made every dream I've ever had come true.

55. You will kiss me anywhere, anytime. I need only ask.

56. Your ever present optimism is not easily deterred by my constant pessimism.

57. You remind me of McLovin from Superbad...and it's totally hot.

58. You teach me something new every single day.

59. Every day I wake up, I love you just a little more.

60. You are my soul mate.


Happy Birthday, Hubs!

Friday, January 16, 2009

weird science

Hubs and I love movies. It's (literally) an integral part of our nightly routine.

(Well, movies and arguing over who has to do the dishes.)

We eat on TV trays (while the perfectly awesome kitchen table we paid really good money for acts as a holder for mail, receipts, coupons, coats, bills and crap from work), turn on the TV and watch a movie. Easy. Simple.

Sometimes.

Generally we can decide on something rather quickly, but lately Hubs has been obsessed with "educating" me on allegedly life-changing 80's movies.

(Don't get me wrong, I love the 80's. I do. I owe John Hughes many thanks for introducing me to most my childhood celebrity crushes. BUT. The 80's had a little tiny problem with technology. Like, they didn't have any. So unless the movie has super duper amazing content that I can't turn away from, or amazingly hot guys (i.e. Josh Brolin in "The Goonies"), I probably didn't see it because I wasn't into neon lazers and claymation. Sue me.)

(Oh, and I was totally sheltered growing up, too. So, a lot of movies I should have seen I was not permitted to watch. Like anything involving Freddy Kruger. Or sex.)

As you can probably imagine, my movie knowledge of the 80's is rather limited. The movies Hubs gives me the most crap for not having ever seen are as follows:

Weird Science
Real Genius
Sixteen Candles (In my defense, I do not like Molly Ringwald. I'm sorry, I just don't.)
License to Drive
Beverly Hills Cop I, II, and III (and probably IV, V, and VI if they exist. I don't know.)

So...a few weeks back, almost every one of these shows was available on television for us to watch. I somehow allowed myself to be talked into watching almost every one of these films.

Including Weird Science.

Oh. My. God.

Aw. Ful.

I know many of you will probably be completely offended by my lack of oohing and ahhing over this movie. I just didn't get it.

(Although I will say, the model in that movie was top notch attractive. Even for back then. But really. The acting? Bad. The effects? Ridiculous. The disgusting bad guys on motorcycles coming to eat all the guests? Kinda cool. )

Anyways.

After the movie finished, Hubs stared at me expectantly, I guess hoping for me to say,

"THAT WAS SO AMAZING! I can't believe I spent all of my childhood existence NOT having seen that movie!"

Instead I just rolled my eyes.

But the movie got me thinking. If there was a way to make the perfect girl out of magazine clips, beeps on a computer screen and a Barbie Doll, what would she look like in the year 2009?

Hmmmmm.....

Clearly we can't just go on looks. There are lots of altered gorgeous people on this planet that act like total martians.

(Ahem. Angelina.)

No...nowadays the perfect girl would have to have it all. Looks, brains, persona, bravado, energy and confidence. If I made myself into the perfect woman that Hubs would never tire of, here's the pieces I would use.

1) Beyonce Knowles: I mean really. She's just rad. The hair and the clothes and the teeth can all be bought, but you can't buy that voice. If I could sing like that, I'd be crooning to Hubs every night. And if I could make my booty dance like a bowl full of jelly, that would be awesome, too.

2) Pink: I have a huge lady crush on this woman. Talk about confidence. I love everything about her. She can kick your ass and sing you a lullaby all in the same breath. And it's magical. And she sings really awesome break-up songs. Which would have come in handy about 349,384 times in 2002, 2003, 2004 and 20055.

3) Oprah: Mainly the Oprah of the late 90's, when she had really good shows. Not the Oprah of today who talks about elevating my spirit and finding my inner peace. Whatevs. I love the Oprah who was insecure about herself, but shared it with the world anyway. That kind of vulnerability is attractive. I also dig Oprah's drive. Ope's came from poverty, but she used her brain and determination and got herself out of it. She's a smart cookie, talented and knows it. And she never let the glass ceiling stop her.

4) Maya Angelou: Did you really think I wouldn't have a writer in here? Please. I would have said Carrie Bradshaw, but she's fictional. And kind of slutty. I'm obviously a sucker for the well written word, and Maya's pretty much got it down to an art. She was years ahead of her time about issues that are still going on today. She's wicked cool.

5) Bella Swan: Okay, I'm reaching, but hear me out. She's not afraid to look past the flaws (and by flaws I mean blood-sucking tendencies) in a person and love them for who they are. Yes, it helps that the person is drop dead gorgeous, but still...shouldn't we all be like that?

And there you have it. My 2009 version of "Weird Science" and the perfect woman. Not bad, eh?

I'd date her.

Tuesday, January 13, 2009

I've been bad

I admit it.

I have not exactly started this new year off with a blogging bang. I (like many other blogs I follow) have had a little trouble getting motivated.

(Maybe because HBO and Cinemax are currently free on my television now. I may or may not have 16 hours worth of movies to watch.)

Mostly, I've just been enjoying Hubs being home and working on our basement. Unfortunately, Hubs was one of the hundreds of people in the city that was recently laid off. I didn't blog about it because it's honestly not something to talk about. It is what it is.

(A big pile of poo poo.)

The economy resembles the bottom of a bathroom trash can right now, and it's expected that something's gotta give. Hubs worked in a small company, and there just wasn't enough work to keep all of the staff.

(Even though Hubs was married to like, the coolest person ever. Apparently that doesn't mean you get to keep your job in tough times. Who knew?)

On the upside, Hubs is home all the time now!!

(This is both good and bad, as I mostly want to use the extra home time to lay on the couch and eat popcorn with him. Unfortunately, Hubs does not share my affinity for extreme laziness and wallowing in margarita's. He likes to actually accomplish things. Life is so unfair.)

Since there isn't a lot of hiring going on in Hubs' area of expertise at the moment, he's decided to use the extra time finish out our basement. This is a good way for him to spend his time since:

a) it keeps him busy
b) he gets all sweaty and attractive looking
c) I may get my new office sooner rather than later

The downside is, our money goes to totally uncool stuff like wood, nails and drywall instead of new shoes, necklaces and accessories.

I know what you're thinking. Why on earth would you need new shoes and accessories when your husband is out of work? How selfish can you be?

The answer is this. We are going to Mexico in less than TWO MONTHS. And I only have like, 4 swim suit options.

If both Hubs and I were employed right now, I would be splitting my time between the mall, Ebay, Sam Moon and the Victoria's Secret catalog.

Instead, I am having to go through my dresser drawers and attempt to find swimsuits from last year that don't make my ass look like an eggplant.

So, apparently I am being taught to be happy with what I already have.

(Suze Orman would be so proud.)

It's not a lesson I like learning, but if watching our pennies means we can put food on the table, take care of the girls properly and stay happy, I'm all for it.

New shoes can wait.

Wednesday, January 7, 2009

a round of....not applause

Everyone has embarassing moments. But I can assure you, I have more than most.

Seriously.

It seems to be my lot in life that I am to be involved in situations which require me to become beet-faced and cry at least 10 times a year.

(So why I chose a profession in which I am required to speak in front of large groups of people on a daily basis, I will never know.)

My blogging buddy Tova seems to share this same plight with me, and uses her blog each Tuesday to share her awkward experiences. I'm going to attempt to follow in her footsteps and tell you one of my awkward stories each week*.

(*when I remember to)

Today's story takes us back to a particularly nice year - 1989. I am eight years old, and my elementary school has planned a special assembly for all the students.

(Remember assemblies? Didn't you just LOVE them? I particularly enjoyed when they interrupted science class. Or gym. On chin-up day.)

Anyways.

So, there I am with my best buddy Erin, filing into the tiny gymnasium, our index finger pressed over our lips because we got in trouble for talking in line.

We take a seat on the floor with the other students in the school and await the principal's opening remarks.

Our principal announces that the lead reporter from WIBW television is going to be reading us a story!!!

(I distinctly remember scratching my head as Report Lady took to the stage in her bright red blouse. I had no clue what a lead reporter was, or why she was taking away from my recess in order to read 200 squirming kids a story.)

Ms. Reporter Lady takes a seat in a chair and greets us, gushing about what beautiful children we are and how reading is very, very important.

(Blah blah blah blah. I already know this. I am totally into The Babysitter's Club and in love with Logan.)

Then Ms. Reporter Lady begins to read the story. Her voice is like honey. I glance over at Erin and decide this isn't so bad.

In fact, this story is quite good.

Actually, it's really good. I am very into it. Ms. Reporter Lady even uses fun voices for the different characters. And she has very nicely coiffed hair.

I decide I like Ms. Reporter Lady.

I become so enamored with the story and Reporter Lady that I totally lose all sense of where I am, what I'm doing and who is around me.

Then, in one final exasperated sentence, Ms. Reporter Lady finishes her story, as the last word hangs in the air.

The gymnasium explodes with applause and I'm eager to applaud, too.

But I don't.

I don't know if I was so wrapped up in the story that my nerves weren't functioning properly, or if my brain just wanted to play a sick joke on me. For whatever reason, rather than putting my hands together in a simple applause motion, I instead rapidly place both hands

straight

up

in

the

air.

Ya know, like I'm riding down the big hill on a roller coaster and screaming "WHEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!"

There is no reason for me to have my hands up in the air. But there they are.

(At least if I had only one hand up, I maybe could have convinced those around me that I was simply trying to get the teacher's attention to go to the bathroom.)

I am sitting cross-legged, on the gym floor, with thunderous applause around me, and both of my arms are in the air.

And I can't put them down.

I am frozen.

The applause eventually ends. But my hands are still up. Reaching for the sky.

Finally, after a few more seconds, I am able to lower my arms.

Afterward, no one ever actually said anything to me about the incident. I wasn't mocked or made fun of, and my hope is that maybe, just maybe, Ms. Reporter Lady was so pretty and so captivating that no one noticed me shoot my hands up in the air like I was part of a stick-up.

I don't clearly remember if this ever happened to me again as a child. I do, however, know it did happen once as an adult. But it was at a concert, so I blended right in.

Thank God.

Got an embarrassing, awkward story? You can share on your blog and link to me, or dish your story in a comment.

Let's all heal together...

Monday, January 5, 2009

review in pictures

must. keep. head. above. water.

I have way too much to do.

The holidays turned me into one of the laziest, no desire to do anything except eat sugar cookies and drink egg nog people on the planet. I'm really been trying to get motivated.

(Usually new things that arrive in wrapped packages from Hubs will do that for me, but since Christmas already happened, and I haven't done anything present worthy for several months, that avenue is closed.)

So...a blog award will have to do instead. I have finally earned one!!!

(Rahh! Cheers! Hooray!)

(What? You got a blog award? They give awards away for talking non-stop about pointless conversations with your Hubs and rambling about shoes?)

Yes. They do.
Yes. I did.

In this case "they" that gave me the award is not People or Us Magazine, but is instead a fellow blogger, which to me, is the jewel in the crown.





Adriana was kind enough to honor me with the "Honest Scrap Award."

(I have no idea what that means and I keep thinking it's a misprint for the Honest Crap Award. Either way, it's recognition.)

(Bloggers can't be choosers. )

(That was an awesome play on words, PS.)

Anyways, apparently I am to spill 10 things about myself that are truly provoking and then bestow this award onto 7 other bloggers that I find worthy. The latter will be easy. The former... not so much.

(I'll be honest, I'm going to have to dig deep on this. I've already told you guys almost everything about myself, save the truly, truly awkward and embarrassing. I might have to break that arsenal out today.)

Don't say I didn't warn you.


10) When I was in 4th grade, a bitch of a 6th grader named Misty Mayer (I know, she sounds like a porn star) kicked me off of the swing set because she wanted it. I stood up to her and she called me loads of potty words.

I totally Jackie Chan'd her in the crotch with my knee, and she punched me in the stomach. We were both sent to the principal's office and she defended herself by saying, "Kim kicked me in my privates." To this day, I wonder why she used a plural.

On a side note, she got in trouble and I didn't. I'm a bad ass.

9) In 1996, I had the worst experience one could EVER have in Wisconsin at the
Devil's Tower National Monument. It involved sacred Indian ground, my mother bawling and lots of people laughing hysterically at me.

One day I just might have the guts to post the story. But probably not.

8) I have had a horrific re-occurring dream since I was 6 that I am sliding down a slipper slide from my grade school. But it is no ordinary slide. When you reach the end, you either fly up into heaven, or keep on going down into the depths of hell.

In my dream, I am always just about to reach the end of the slide and I wake up.

(Clearly God has not decided if he wants me yet.)

7) I determined Hubs was good enough for me because he knew which movie this quote came from:

"It's like they cloned some party back in 1983 and kept spinning it out again and again and again. I loved your ideas on the Squeezy Doll line."

6) Once...when I was very, very, very drunk and very, very, very stupid...I tipped a perfectly innocent person's motorcycle over at 3:00 in the morning.

(I think I know the results of #8 from now on.)

5) There are at least 10 people that I have as friends on my Facebook from high school that I cannot stand.

4) I am a ginormous snoop. Especially when it comes to my ex's. I love to know what my former flames are up to.

(Not because I still love them, and certainly not because I want anything to do with them.)

It's really just morbid, awful, incurable curiosity. Are they dating? married? miserable? happy?
I must know. At all times.

(One exception is the ex that made me miss my effing Junior prom. I don't care if he falls off the earth. We can talk about that more later.)

3) Cheese is like an aphrodisiac for me. Especially sharp cheddar.

2) I have to have nail polish on my toes. And fingernails.

1) When Hubs and I took our pre-marital classes, our d-bag of a Pastor told us we would likely divorce someday because Hubs came from a "broken home."

(For the record, Hubs parents are simply divorced. If that's a broken home, I'm a prostitute since sometimes I buy shoes with money that Hubs has earned.)

(In addition, I don't have a problem with most Pastors. Just the dude that did our wedding.)


I will now bestow this award onto the following bloggers:

Alissa at
Grace's Birdcage Wedding
Lacey at
Lacey In Love
My favorite Little Miss
Optimist
T over at
Little Miss Kansas
Courtney at
Under a Paper Moon
Andy at
Wild ARS Chase


That's only 6 people. Oh well.

Yay for awards! I am now motivated. To go eat some cheese.