Resolutions don't have to happen in America

31. Play ski ball




and then hubs played that strong man game... and KILLED IT!


43. Paint my nails navy blue

OH Canada!

I've been wanting to show you some pictures and I finally got around to pulling them off of the camera - so this week you're in for a treat!

We spent a couple days in Canada on our way home from Boston (Oh god, the drive!)

Apparently Frankenstein really likes Whoppers


and I really (REALLY) like candy apples - even though I almost break my teeth off every time I eat one.


and everything is lit up at night in a really cool way


It makes your balls glow


and my adorable husband who carried all of our camera crap and souvenirs so not to burden his pregnant wife.


And even let me hit on an astronaut!


Glow-in-the-dark putt putt ROCKS by the way and did you know that if you are pregnant you are AWESOME at miniature golf? True story. My friend Lydia told me this, and I am amazing at it right now.

Come back tomorrow and see which Resolutions I completed while in Canada!

Crazy A-SIAN man

So after our really really ridiculously long drive, husband and I arrived at the hotel in Boston. We stood at the front desk waiting for the clerkman to get off the phone. Not TWO SECONDS LATER, an Asian man and his wife fly through the doors. The man pushes us aside and SLAMS his hands on the counter yelling “SHAHM-POOOOOO!” The clerk looks up from his phone call and the man bangs on the counter again, “SHAHM-POO! SHAHM-POO! I need SHAHM-POO!” The clerk looks up and says, “Yes, in a second sir.” And crazy Asian man and wife STORM OFF.

Husband looks at me, “Um, that was weird.”

So the clerk checks us in, gives us our room key and directs us down the hall to room 130. Husband tries the key. Nothing happens. Tries again. Still nothing.

We go back up to the counter (the counter that now has a bottle of SHAHM-POO sitting on it) and tell him our key doesn’t work. He apologizes and reprograms our key.

Back at room 130, husband slides the key and successfully enters the room. I am about to follow, until I hear from inside,

“NOT YOUR ROOM! NO! ROOM TAKEN! SECOND TIME THIS HAPPEN! FILE COMPLAINT! I FILE COMPLAINT”

My husband quicky exits the room and we rush to the desk – not so fast as to beat crazy Asian man from pushing us out of the way to SCREAM at the clerk, “I FILE COMPLAINT! SECOND TIME, IN MY ROOM!”

Clerk, “Sir, I cannot deal with you right now.”

Man, “I FILE COMPLAINT!! I FILE COMPLAINT!”

Clerk, “Sir, I told you flat out I don’t have time for this. Here’s our card, go the website and file whatever complaint you want.”

Man, “I FILE COMPLAINT!! I FILE COMPLAINT!”

Clerk, “GO TO THE WEB-SITE, I’M NOT DEALING WITH YOU!”

As the man storms off (without his SHAHM-POO) and shaking his finger at US ("YOU FILE COMPLAINT!") the clerk looks at us (trying to keep from hysterics)

Clerk, “Yeah, that guy’s a DICK.”

Moral of the story: Bring your own damn shampoo and always pad lock your door.

Oh and if you’re going to Boston, the customer service is awesome!

The car is no place to spend a weekend

If you love your husband as much as I love mine, here is a bit of marital advice for you to chew on.

DO NOT drive from North Carolina to Boston with him with nothing but a mini snickers bar, a travel-sized bag of cashews, four jolly ranchers and an ipod shuffle.

We set out with high hopes and big plans. Friday, 4.5 hours of driving to make our way to DC and stay with friends. Mission accomplished. We talked about everything there was for two gorgeously attractive married people to discuss and wrapped it up just about the time we pulled up at our friend’s house for a late-night snack and a good night's rest.

ENTER DAY 2

THIRTEEN STRAIGHT HOURS IN THE CAR TOGETHER!! THREE HOURS OF STOPPED TRAFFIC ON THE NJ TURNPIKE (NJ TURNPIKE – I OFFICIALLY HATE YOU FOREVER)!! THIRTY-TWO DOLLARS IN TOLLS!!! (who the shit carries that much cash on them?) DIRTY REST STOPS!! THIRSTY!! DIRTY REST STOPS!!

Oh and did I mention we ran out of things to talk about on DAY ONE!!?

Did I mention his car is a stick shift which I refuse to learn to drive, therefore I could not help him drive and as a result he got SHIN SPLINTS ON THE NJ TURNPIKE!!

Did I mention rest stops are DIRTY?

Did I mention we have a marital rule that the passenger cannot fall asleep (they are supposed to keep the driver awake and alert at all times) and is responsible for TOPICS OF CONVERSATION?

Did I mention no amount of Sirius Radio or ipod playlists can span 17.5 HOURS!? (also did you know there is a song called, My Weiner? – well there is. And it’s almost dirtier than REST STOPS!!)

Also, did you know PEOPLE ARE RUDE ASSHOLES? Well, they are. THEY REALLY ARE! I was standing in line (A long long line) for the loo (did I mention the NJ Turnpike was backed up for TWENTY MILES?? Yeah that makes lots of ladies and LOTS OF PEEING) and BTW there was NO LINE for the penis bathroom and out comes a scruffy old man who looks at the line of uncomfortable women clenching their pee-holes and says, “Well ladies, goes to show ya’ – it’s a man’s world.” DIIIIICK!

Anyway this frizzy hot mess of a lady walks up and down the line saying, “I’m sorry but I have to go, I’m just not waiting in this line. I’m not waiting.” She ends up four people behind me and once we are actually in the bathroom she pushes me to the side and says – “I’m going ahead of you, I really have to go.” I should have peed right on her. The people behind me were appalled. There was a very pregnant lady in front of me who waited her turn in line, despite many people offering to let her pass in front of them. As the piss lady pushes past me, I hear from behind me, “Oh my god, the nerve of that woman! If she would have pushed that pregnant girl aside – IT WOULD HAVE BEEN ON!” So it’s totally okay if she pushes the cute red-headed chick out of the way? I stood in line wishing the piss princess had pushed preggers and I could have had a front row seat to the gun show. Instead I said nothing, but used my powers of telekinesis to work voodoo magic on her (the piss lady, not the pregnant lady).

If my powers are correct, she is itching the bjeezus out of her lady parts AS WE SPEAK!

For more on how to get divorced, stay tuned TOMORROW.

It's tea, sip it and work the pinkie finger

One billion years ago I had nothing to blog about so gave a proverbial shout out to my loyal reader(s) (you) for topics/questions. No one cared. Well, that’s not true. Mermanda cared and offered up a question that I have chosen to answer today, due to a lack of anything else interesting going on in my life. I am getting a haircut tonight and my eyebrows are channeling Jennifer Connelly. They need attention.

She writes: What is your favorite thing to order at a bar?

Since I rarely go to bars, because I am a lame wify now and my eyes get sleepy around 9:30pm and seeing as though 9:30pm is entirely too early to hit a bar, bar – I usually limit myself to places that sell food and contain a bar. Isn’t it funny how the HAPPY in HAPPY HOUR changes when you get older? My happy USED to be drink specials, but now my hour is happier if it includes “1/2 price appetizers.” Lame and cheap are my pleasures. I’ve replaced drunk with a fat ass. Happy indeed.

There are certain things that make me absolutely giddy when I crack open a menu. I can get *VERY* excited over simple things like food (and snow caps). Husband swears it’s because I’m crazy but I bet deep down he thinks it’s endearing.

Cider on draft

Deep fried mushrooms (although husband doesn’t like them so I rarely order this)

Hoegaarden (although I’ll settle for Blue Moon draft)

Cabbage rolls (shut up.)

Crème brulee

Fish and chips (only if vinegar is available for dipping!)

Pomtini’s

german potato salad

Chocolate chip French toast

Caffeine free diet coke (Panera/Macaroni Grill/Chick-fil-a – You complete me.)

Tomato Basil Bisque

Miso soup

Currently, I’m on a salmon kick also salads with calamata olives and anything drenched in Jack Daniel’s glaze.

In addition, anytime I see a formal tea menu, I *Squeeee* with delight (inwardly, so not to embarrass the husband). Tea menus brings back one of my favorite memories from our engagement trip. We were in Victoria British Columbia and we found THIS lovely place (in THIS lovely book). I cannot possibly explain how magical it is. The lady photographed on the homepage laughs like a bowl full of jelly. It’s perfect. I can see the stacks of tiny cakes and sandwiches (tiny food = awesome) and can almost taste the warm passion fruit tea. Can you see the snuggly on the tea pot?


I have a tiny glass teapot on my desk to remind me of it. Mine looks like the one in the bottom left of the picture but it is blue. My boss tried to touch it one time and I said, "Put that down" and he said, "Why, what is it?" and I said, "Something that, if broken, would leave me no choice but to kill you." So he put it down but not before saying that he wanted one. Good luck with that. Don't touch my desk.

Miss, throwing oranges will get you kicked off this plane

Tonight sounds fun: light snow, sleet and freezing rain. Great. We’re going to Denver for the holiday and I hope our plane doesn’t veer off the runway and catch on fire. Even the possibility of punching a stewardess in the face to make my way down the bouncy inflatable slide sounds less appealing when fire is involved. And you know there will be that crazy guy yelling, "Every man for himself!" while he steps on babies and pregnant women only to find out the plane is in fact, not on fire, but simply waiting on the tarmac for a piece of luggage that was missed. Before any of that can happen, I have a bajillion loads of laundry to do, a bajillion I tell you. I also have to pack, change the sheets, and husband needs to give Miss Har clean water and food refills.

Every time before we go out of town, kitty starts being super cute to make us feel bad about leaving her. We have to put her in a different room when we get the suitcases out because she gets really stressed out when she sees them. She climbs up on the bed and sits in the suitcase and refuses to move. I think it’s unethical to pack a kitty, no matter how much she wants it. This morning I laid my sweater out on the bed and she comes running out of the closet and sits her furry little 7lb body right on top of it. I looked at her like, “Exactly what do you think you’re doing?” She set her chin down on the sweater while still looking at me with her sweet kitty eyes as if to say, “You don’t do anything at work anyway, do you REEEEEALY need to go?” And while I don’t really do anything at work (blog), especially the day before a holiday (blog), my presence is required. I had to physically remove the purr-kitty from my clothing so that I didn’t have to go to work topless. I gave her some pets and told her we’ll both be home tonight and give her lots of snuggles. Speaking of snuggles, last night Heidi came over to say hi and instead of welcoming her into our home, husband told her she “snuggle blocked” him. Rude, I know. He then proceeded to hang out (fall asleep and snore on my lap) while Heidi and I gabbed about the world. An hour later he sleepily rubbed his eyes and said how much fun he was having but had to head to bed (seriously?). Tonight I will snuggle my kitty and my husband because that is what winter is all about.


Also, my boss gave me an orange today. Just an orange. He also tried to give me some Christmas lights. I told him I was Jewish, which got me out of having to take the lights but not the orange. Orange you glad I told you that story? The End.