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.

16 channels and nothing on

So I am waiting for the electrician to come and wire our garage for new garage door openers. They said between 8 and noon, and it is now 11:37. I have spent the last three hours and 37 minutes flipping through the 20 or so channels we currently get with our Very Basic cable package. Here’s a sampling…

2 – Dr. Keith Ablow. Psychic twins say Princess Diana’s death was definitely a conspiracy but they can’t tell us who is behind it. Those teases!

3 – A commercial for Smokey’s Mo’s BBQ. I used to eat that all the time when I worked in Round Rock. I would get a baked potato and cut up some turkey to put on top. Mmmmm. Do you want me to tell you more about what I used to eat for lunch last year? Or is that too exciting?

4 – Pat Robertson is on everyday at 11 a.m. His show is disguised to look like a news show. Every day he spotlights a different person living the good Christian life. Right now he is featuring a guy named “Dell” who plays the banjo. He says he really enjoys “touching the audience when I perform.” That doesn’t sound very Christian.

5 – A commercial for lap band surgery. There is a lady in the kitchen and a lion roaring in the next room. I’m not sure what a lion has to do with getting obesity surgery. Maybe when you are fat lions follow you around and try to eat you.

7 – TV Guide Chanel. A show called the Fashion Team is on the top half of the screen. There is a gay guy and a girl who looks vaguely familiar and Hayden Panettiere from Heroes is trying on t-shirts.

8 – Crap local version of CNN. The lunch break forecast is sponsored by Lights Fantastic.

9 – Everyday at this time PBS has a chow called Sit and Get Fit with Mary Anderson. She is a senior gal who wears scrunchy socks and does “exercises” like the elbow rock and the hand wave. Apparently later in life waving will feel like exercise.

10 – Cable access for our town. On September 14 at 8:00 we could go watch Flushed Away at the park.

12 – If teaching doesn’t work out I could go to something called Virginia College in the hood and learn to be a vet tech. And then I could earn $8.50 per hour.

13 – Univision is fantastic. Every time I flip through there is a very pretty drag queen and several small Hispanic men trying to work their way out of some sort of calamity. “Ay dios mio!” I am not disappointed today.

19 – Some kind of weird public access channel. There is a guy saying that if you want to tell if someone is lying you should listen to their voice and not look at their face. And there is a typewriter on the desk behind him, so clearly this is cutting edge research.

20 – The other PBS station. There is a lady stuffing vegetable matter under the skin of a raw chicken, which would be pretty normal. Except that she appears to be grilling this chicken up at Stone Henge. No, for real.

21 – WGN. There is a guy who looks like a cop talking to a guy who looks like a mobster. And the mob guy keeps snorting, so I think he’s on coke. By the way, this is a fictional show, although the description could be from the WGN news. It is in Chicago, after all.

22 – Staticky noise and a freeze frame of Mac Brown at a press conference. It was from back last season when he had that herpes on his lip. The weird thing is that this exact same shot has been on since at least last night. Technical difficulties, much?

24- QVC is offering a “Choice of Diamonique 1.65 ct tw Double Link Rolo Bracelets, 14k. Retail Price: $602, QVC Price: $504, Introductory Price $462.” Oh my God, I love a deal! And I can break it up into three easy payments of only $154, and S&H is free! There is a really sad sounding lady on the phones who is buying this as a birthday present… for herself.

25 – HSN has a gay guy with overly manicured eyebrows who is way too excited about the mattress pad they are currently featuring.

The bad news is that I get to do this again on Monday. The good news is that I will be waiting for the cable guy, who is hooking up real, 100+ channel, digital cable! With a DVR! We are rejoining the civilized world after a year-long experiment. It turns out without real cable we do watch more PBS but don't read or go for walks together any more often. So overall, we might as well rot our brains with delightful cable.

Well, it’s 12:05 now. I must call the electrician and tell them not to bother. I have to go dress shopping, again.

Can I start a fitting room for you?

I just spent about four hours non-stop-shopping. I went in search of a dress to wear to a wedding that Husband is in this weekend. I was excited about this shopping trip because it's the first time since starting grad school that I've felt comfortable spending whatever I feel like on an article of clothing. No more choosing between the two dresses in my size on the TJ Maxx sale rack.

But today was like that first time Julia Roberts goes shopping in Pretty Woman. Except instead of snooty sales girls, it was the dresses themselves conspiring against me. Here's why: (1) All the dresses seemed to come in size 4 or size 12. There is no amount of sucking in that could allow me to fit in a 4. Apparently I should have stayed fat, because if I were still a size 12 I would be set. (2) I don't want to wear a cotton dress to a fancy wedding, or a long dress because I'm not entering a pageant. That leaves about 7% of the dresses in stores right now for me to consider. (3) Summer dresses are not made for girls with boobs. They are cut so bra straps show and it's just not an option for me to go braless. Apparently I can duct tape my boobs together but the removal part scares me.

So now I don't even want to go. Not that I'm not really happy for the couple and everything. But I have literally looked everywhere I can think of and I have nothing to wear. I spent four hours at the mall and I left with two oven mitts to replace the ones Husband ruined with melted cheese (on a side note, I love how Husband makes things with melted cheese overflowing). So right now my options are wearing nothing but two very snazzy new oven mitts, or digging something out of the Goodwill bag in the garage. I hate how men can just wear pants everywhere. Those bastards.