Merry Happy Holiday Indeed!

I FINALLY WON SOMETHING!! AND IT'S A LAP TOP!! A FRICKIN' LAP TOP!!

I swear on hot dogs I almost coughed up my morning Christmas Tree cake when I saw Ashley's post, scrolled to the bottom to see the words...

CONTEST IS CLOSED.. Congrats, Tam!

This has been a hard week for us, but things are looking up. What a wonderful late Chanukah, early Christmas present. This will make my bed rest so much more bearable, and my husband can finally have his laptop back!!

And with only one week left to fulfill my resolutions - I FINALLY WON SOMETHING!!

I WON!

I WON!

THANK YOU ASHLEY!!!

(also, I don't think my husband believes me for realsies)

Things I'm contemplating

What my ideal job would be

Reading Sarah Palin's book

Uploading my Christmas CD's to iTunes and blasting them on shuffle mode while I dance my pregnant ass around the house

Rigging a contest so that I can win something

Dressing my cat up as a hot dog for our holiday card

Making a big batch of puppy chow and eating more of it than my husband


Now tell me, what are you thinking about?

Trippin' on Tryptophan

Thanksgiving is almost here and anticipation is rising in our corner of the universe. We are cooking Thanksgiving dinner for the first time this year. We’re actually cooking it by default because my mom is out of town. So I am in charge of feeding my dad, brother and in-laws. Um. Yikes. Husband doesn’t even like Thanksgiving food that much and thinks all the hype over one meal just so family can pass out afterwards is pointless. I mean, they could just drink some tequila shots and essentially get the same effect with way less effort on my part. Right?

Husband and I like to do our part to feel like we’re contributing to the greater good. We changed all of the light bulbs in our house to the squiggly efficient ones, buy American cars, recycle paper, plastic and glass, bag our groceries with burlap reusable sacks, voted for change and try to contribute to small local businesses whenever possible. We were pretty excited when Heidi told us there was a local turkey farm, and mr. turkey has been the center of a heated debate for over two weeks now.

The Great Turkey Dilemma of 2008: buy a pre-cooked turkey? Buy a frozen turkey? Brine the turkey? Buy a fresh turkey? Roast and baste a turkey? Cook the turkey in a bag? Screw it all and get a ham?

Yesterday afternoon we finally came to a consensus. We will buy a turkey from the local farm, brine it, and cook it in a bag. We were both tickled about our choice, even though we are spending WAY more on it than we’d hoped. Husband called up the farm and they said if he got there by 5:30 we could still get in on the some local holiday bird. There were lots of reasons to be happy for this purchase, yay food, yay buying locally but this is the one husband expounded upon last night.

Bowman Landes Farms: Our free range turkeys are raised in the open air and sunshine without antibiotics, and are vegetable fed.

Husband: I’m glad we got this turkey – it’s way better than some turkey that ate pooh odd and sundry remains of his fallen comrades.

Also according to the website, these little sunshine gobblers barely make it to their half-birthday. I think husband was was little disappointed that it wasn’t a kill-it-yourself farm, like build-a-bear, only for dinner. Much to his surprise the turkey was already dead when he got there. I came home last night not only to our new dinner pet but also to LOTS of turkey items: smoked turkey meat, oven roasted turkey meat, and turkey sticks. So we ate the turkey sticks for dessert and much to our delight they tasted like cold hot dogs.

Tonight I have to clean the house before company comes – the shit stains in the toilet are a little much for house guests. Wish us luck on Thursday - we’re really excited. The turkey plucked from our proverbial backyard will be the center of attention, served with a side of turkey sticks and tequila.

**For thematic purposes and aside from the fact that I rambled on about how Sarah Palin gets too much press, this video was just too funny/creepy/awkward/horrible to pass up.



Oh and THIS is ridiculous too.

Either I have a monster in my kitchen or I'm completely crazy.

Last night was a very good [bad] night. The gym was closed due to a power outage so I didn’t have to teach cycling [aka get paid to burn 500+ calories]. “Lazy bum” status kicked in immediately. Husband and I collapsed on the couch as soon as we got home with no ideas for dinner. We decided to go to BW3’s – in a little while. We watched the last horrible 45 minutes of Baby Mama while we waited for Heidi to arrive.

[Note to self: Do not go to BW3s on Monday Night. There is a thing called Monday Night Football that apparently causes long waits for tables and food, people in jerseys, and LOTS of yelling.]

We got hungry while waiting for our table so we walked over to Skyline [Ew!] where we encountered lots of neglected hot dogs. PILES of hot dogs people! Unattended! Here is the evidence:


Anyway, this is what we consumed last night:
Skyline chili cheese dogs
Onion rings
Mozzarella sticks
Nachos
Teriyaki Boneless wings
Sweet BBQ Bone-in wings
Mild Bone-in wings
Potato wedges w/cheese
Celery and ranch dressing
Hot fudge sundae with extra fudge [sub chocolate milkshake for H]

I think according to weight watchers we ate 120,000 calories. Michel Phelps would be proud and now I am large enough to audition for Big Mama's House 4.

Baby Mama Movie Review: There were a few LOL moments and Tina Fey, Amy Poehler and Steve Martin are hilarious actors - but this movie kinda sucks. There were some funny/redeeming quotes:

Steve Martin: Congratulations, Kate. I want to reward you with five minutes of uninterrupted eye contact.

Tina Fey: I overreacted earlier. I'm sorry... [exits]
Amy Poehler: I'm sorry I farted into your purse...

Amy Poehler: [as she enters the hospital, about to go into labor] It feels like I'm shitting a knife!

Oh and Sigourney Weaver is terrible in it. Actually - every time I see her in something I think of the ending sequence to Ghost Busters where Dana Barrett is a demon and how horrible that dress was. I think she should have halted her acting career after that movie. Ew.

Jewish werewolves do not drive drunk or eat spaghetti!

I learned about a few things today that made me laugh. The first was a reference on Jennie!'s blog to Werewolf Bar Mitzvah. I saw the reference earlier in the week when I visited my favorite tshirt website. Being the good jew that I am, I very much needed to get to the bottom of this. The Tracey Jordon song was referenced on 30 Rock [since I have never seen 30 Rock, this explains why I didn't get it] I found the video today and laughed at the images of little "boys becoming men" note the ending lyrics "This ain't no dick in a box, mazel tov!"

Second thing I laughed at today was actually on Joe's Apartment [Sorry Joe, but I had to steal this.] Spaghetti cat.



I now am obsessed with trying to find something for my cat to do. I really need to start making money off of her. She doesn't pull her own weight [5 lbs.] and with the husband not working, I can use all the help I can get. She eats yogurt [and DH swears she ate a triscut one time] and like five years ago we put bunny ears on her and took her picture [I'll post that later tonight.] I don't think we can get a bib on her because she's kinda squirmy. I don't think she likes hot dogs [criminal I know!] Perhaps we can get her to play Rock Band. I bet she's good at the drums.

Drinking mold only makes you stronger

I ate lunch outside again today. I had some potato salad and half of a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Actually, it was peanut butter and low sugar jelly on flax seed bread. What is this world coming to!?

The last few days I have been reading a book for a book club. The book is The Glass Castle by Jeannette Walls. It’s a captivating memoir and very much reminds me of a cross between A Child Called It and Lovely Bones. Why do I love books about screwed up kids? Anyway, in the book the author recalls memories from when she was as young as 3 years-old. The memories are so vivid [granted in one she sets herself of fire while cooking hot dogs in her favorite pink party dress. That’s pretty memorable.] I was sitting there thinking if I could recall vivid memories from when I was that little. At one point in the book she remembers a poem off of a sugar daddy stick. My memories are not as detailed, more big picture.

I remember, when I was 3 or 4 my mom taught me how to blow a bubble with bazooka gum. She was sitting in a rocking chair and I sat below her on the floor. We chewed gum for hours that day until I could finally blow that bubble.

I remember, my mom watched Days of Our Lives every day from 1-2pm, I remember thinking the people on that show kissed in the yuckiest way I had ever seen.

I remember, one night I was in my parents’ bed and they thought I was asleep, so they watched the movie Piranha Part 2: The Spawning [1981].I thought that was the scariest shit ever. I was definitely older than one, so my parents must have waited until either it was out on video or it was showing on TBS.

I remember, I had two tea sets, a plastic one and a glass one. I usually played with the plastic one because I was afraid of breaking the glass one. I kept the sets in the bottom drawer of my white painted desk. Mom said, for sanitary reasons, I was only allowed to have "pretend" tea in the sets [aka water]. One year, I got bonnie bell lip balm for Christmas [you know the candy cane shaped tube filled with flavored sticks]. I crushed the lip balm up and mixed it with water in my plastic tea pot. That way, I could serve my friends [and my little brother] flavored tea. I was the most hospitable child on the block until my mom found out. She said that was a good way to get sick. She cleaned out the tea set and made me promise to never do that again or she would take them away.

When I was five and we moved into our new house, I got the lip balm cane again. This time we used my brother's GI Joe canteen to give the troops flavored water. That lasted for quite a while until one day the water came out green with black flecks. We asked my mom to wash it out and she freaked when she found the entire inside of the canteen was covered in mold. I can still remember the smell of that canteen, stale plastic and orange soda chap stick. I never got another lip balm candy cane from Santa ever again. He must have been watching.

how long WOULD a fart stay in a spacesuit?

So I’ve mentioned that my office is the official Land of Misfit Toys but as of late they also seem to have an enourmous amount of gas. On Friday, my secretary was talking to me in my cubical [yes people cubical = small closed in area where I do my work] and she just let one rip. I don’t even think the expression on her face changed. I almost said “what was that?” but then I was scared at what her answer might be. Then, this morning, the guy in the cubical next to me farts his ass off right after I got here at 9:37am. Who gasses it before 10am? And WHY dear internets, do these people think it’s acceptable to fart around me? Apparently my office mates forgot Rule #1 of office farting: ASK YOURSELF IF YOU HAVE A PRIVATE OFFICE.

I decided to do a little gas research this morning and I must admit I laughed out loud at my desk at the amount of sites dedicated to Gym Farting Etiquette.

FACT: In the middle ages, loudly breaking wind was an act of appreciation to the housewife. Wow. FI must REALLY appreciate me...

FACT: The average man releases enough flatus in a day to blow up a small balloon. [just don’t pop it!]

FART THESAURUS: breaking wind, passing wind, southerly wind, morning thunder, cutting the cheese, stepping on a toad, cutting loose, air bubble, gassers, stinkers, air biscuits, low-flying ducks, barking spiders, rotten eggs, wet ones, poots, pooter, pip, bleep, blip, SBD, tootsie, fluff, sqeeker, shit-vapor, and the proverbial combo-meal of the bunch... shart.

STORY: When we were in grad school FI and I went with a group of friends to a Columbus Clippers game. The only reason to EVER go to one of these nauseatingly boring games was “dime a dog” night. They allow you to start out with five each. I can never eat five, although I totally heart baseball dogs, my limit is three. FI has no limit on 10 cent hot dogs or any other food that costs less than a quarter. As he enjoyed his five, my two, and any other random dog that someone surrendered, his belly began to grumble. Apparently he felt it would behoove him to let some of these steamers rip. Keep in mind, this was a muggy, 90-degree August night at the ballpark and the only evident breeze was the one generated between the bat and the ball. Our group of friends were seated 2, 3 even 5 rows behind us. Suddenly someone says, “OMG can you smell that?! It smells like something died up someone ass!” Of course my darling FI is the first to be called upon with pointed fingers and accusation in situations such as this. He quickly replied “No, I didn’t fart!” As people begin to pass out two rows behind us he leans over and says, “Seriously babe, I think I might have let some out like ten minutes ago but not *just* now.” Well apparenlty it takes 600 seconds for a silent stinker to form into a putrid cloud [write that down] because it eventually had strangers in section 112 rows A-X yelling and covering their faces. That damn thing lingered for about three innings and assaulted at least three dozen unsuspecting baseball fans. It eventually got out that FI was the one who dealt it, which lead to us never going to dime-a-dog night with friends again. Thank god we still have friends, we just don't eat massive amounts of hot dogs with them... True. Story.

POETRY: (From the history of farting)
There was an old fellow named Art
Who awoke with a terrible start,
For down by his rump
Was a terrible lump
Of what should have just been a fart.

From my late grandmother
[who BTW NEVER held a tooter in]
It’s better to let it out and bear the shame, than to hold it in and bear the pain.