Um, yeah, about this whole blog thing

I was just telling Husband that I need to write a blog post, but I don't really wanna. It used to be that I wanted to write posts all the time but never had any inspiration. Now I've got a ton of interesting things to blog about, but I'm just not really feeling it. No one ever leaves comments, except for someone I don't know named Mr. Shain. And at this rate I think I need to let go of my dream of selling the rights to my blog to Fox so they can make it into a crappy sitcom.

In summary, without the promise of validation from my friends or a financial windfall, what's really left? Sadly, internal motivation is not a strength of mine. Who knows, this may just be a crazy menstrual episode I will regret later, but right now it seems like I need to break up with this blog.

It's not you, it's me.

I'm really feeling that this will be the right decision for us both in the long run.

Oh, to be free! I should have done this ages ago.

But we did have some good times.



Call me!

I don't know what you did tonight, but I bet it wasn't nearly as classy as watching a fat kid fart on Shaquille O'Neal repeatedly.

I'm so glad we have the DVR. A little background: apparently Shaquille O'Neal has a new reality show where he is a counselor at a camp for fat kids.

HUSBAND: Did that kid just fart on Shaq?
WIFE: What?
HUSBAND: [uses rewind feature to replay commercial for new fat camp show]
SHAQ: You can't be fartin' on me now, Walter. [as he's holding Walter Fat Kid's ankles during fart-inducing sit-ups]
WIFE: Oh my God, did you just rewind so you could hear that kid fart on Shaq again?
HUSBAND: Uh, yeah I did!
WIFE: But why?
HUSBAND: Oh my God, that's hysterical. I would love to fart on Shaq!
WIFE: Seriously? I just do not understand you.
HUSBAND: [shrug]
WIFE: [signs on to blog]

FYI, I deleted the fart noises Husband made during the conversation because, as the proud owner of a uterus, I am unable to transcribe fart noises using the English alphabet.

I'm bored.

For the third day in the past week I am sitting here waiting for a serviceman to arrive. This time (just like last time) I am waiting for the cable guy. As I mentioned before, we are switching from the 16 channel basic-ass cable package to glorious digital cable with a new DVR.

Except right now I don't even have the 16 channels. On his way out the door Husband unhooked the cable and removed our old VCR to make room for the new DVR on the shelf. This bothers me for several reasons...

1. Isn't that the cable guy's job? This is the second four hour block of time I have set aside this week to wait for the guy, so I'm not feeling too much like I need to bend over backwards to help him out. And while I cannot begin to make sense of the tangle of wires behind the TV, Husband can trust me to repeat the sentence, "Just swap the VCR out for the DVR."
2. I missed Ellen and now I am missing the hour when I flip back and forth between The Price is Right and Joy telling Elisabeth to shut the %&^$ up on The View.
3. I know I can go in the bedroom but that's the little TV and the remote doesn't work even though I just replaced the batteries, so how exactly am I supposed to flip between the Showcase Showdown and the Joy/Elisabeth smackdown? Does Husband expect me to get up off the bed? As if.
   
4. On a serious note, why do we inconvenience the ones closest to us for the benefit of strangers? I do it to Husband too, so I can't really complain. But I can think of tons of people in my life who do the exact same thing. It just seems easier to disappoint the people you love because you don't have to explain it to them and they have to love you anyway. I should tell Husband that we should stop doing that.
   

The cable guy just called to say he's on his way. Yippee! Food Network soon!

Google Image Search: Babies

This is the very first image result when you Google "babies." It's also the #2 result for "creepy babies." These are little babies made of marzipan. For those of you who don't have a baking fetish like I do, marzipan is a sugar-almond paste that is used to make little decorations on fancy cakes.

I'm trying to picture a cake with these babies on it. I assume it would be for a baby shower, because I can't think of another time when having a baby-themed cake would be even a little bit okay. So imagine we are at a baby shower. The fat lady has just opened all the gifts, and everyone oohed and ahhed at the soft, tiny little booties and onesies. A little girl is running around with a bunch of clothespins she collected from people who accidentally said "baby." And now it's time for cake. It's a beautiful fancy cake filled with raspberry mousse and covered with... little... marzipan... babies. How does the hostess cut into that without feeling a tinge homicidal? Do you eat the babies? Or do you just eat around them, leaving a little pile of eerily life-like candy babies face-down in the icing, waiting for a slightly larger marzipan CSI team to come investigate the cause of death?

How is that not creepy? How does it not give the mother-to-be nightmares about accidentally eating her baby? In short, who thought this would be a good idea?

Dum Dum Da Dum

So we went to a quite fancy wedding this weekend. Here's a scene from the bathroom at Husband's parents' house as we were getting ready...

ME: Ugh, my hair is just not working!
HUSBAND: You look beautiful.
ME: Don't tell me I look good when I don't.
HUSBAND: Your hair looks great.
ME: DON'T LIE TO ME! I know you are lying.
HUSBAND: Um, sorry.
WIFE: [Turns on hair dryer.]

Poor guy. Momentary hair crisis aside, the wedding was very nice and I could tell that Husband was really excited to see all his college friends in one place, an event unlikely to happen again soon as there are no more weddings on the immediate horizon. It's a shame because I have grown to quite enjoy Husband's friends, who have been very welcoming to me. Husband and I even danced. That is only the second time that has ever happened, the first being our own wedding. I think the bottomless wine glass had something to do with it.