Nobody Puts Baby in a Corner

This is just too cool!!

Last night when Kevin got home from work:

Kevin: You know that dumb Extreme Makeover show you like?

Me: The people one or the home edition one?

Kevin: The home edition one.

Me: Yeah. Mmmmm, Ty....

Kevin: One of the guys in our department got chosen for the show.

Me: Cool!

Kevin: And our cadet class is doing the demolition on the house.

Me: What?!! On TV!! Oh, my gosh, you're going to get to see Ty! I'm coming with you! Can I come, too?

Kevin: No.

Me: PLEASE!!!!!!!

Kevin: No.

Me: Tell me where it is.

Kevin: No.

Me: Oh! Take my camera phone and take a picture of Ty!

Kevin: No.

Me: You HAVE to! You just HAVE to! PLEASE!!!!!!

Kevin: No.

That has pretty much been ongoing since he told me. I'm still working on it. If I can get him to tell me where it is I'll get the damn picture myself! He gets to meet Ty!!

Men are like dogs because:

They both like to pee outside.

They can fall asleep anywhere.

They don't care what their breath smells like.

They'll eat anything.

They take all the room in bed and hog all the covers.

They both like the smell of their own poop.

They both get their hackles raised when another man/dog comes sniffing around.

They both pretend to listen and never hold up their end of the conversation.

They both think it's funny to fart in the car.

They are loyal and protective.

I love them both. That is, I love both my man and my dog.

A long, long time ago, I started blogging my 100 Things list and I only got halfway through. So off we go.

50) Three words never used to describe me: nice, cool, messy.

49) Three words often used to describe me: blunt, funny, pretty.

48) I'm 25 and live life like I'm 60: wake up early, go to work, eat dinner at 5:30, and early to bed. It's not my fault we're hungry at 5:30. I'm not going to sit there hungry because it's not hip to eat dinner at 5:30. And this way my tummy makes room for ice cream later.

47) Speaking of ice cream, one of my favorite things in the world is a raspberry concrete with double raspberries from Sheridan's Frozen Custard.

46) I know nearly all the words to Dirty Dancing. Yes, I'm saying I know nearly all the words to the entire movie.

45) I can't dance. I won't dance. I don't dance. Ever.

44) My favorite singer is Billy Joel. I just love him.

43) Once I start something I can't rest until it's finished. (Besides my 100 Things list, that is. I plum forgot about this silly list.)

42) The smell of chlorine is to me as the smell of cigarette smoke is to a former smoker.

41) The smell of cigarette smoke makes me gag and it's not uncommon that I'll make a scene about it, much to Kevin's embarrassment. It makes him really mad, actually.

This is good. My brother-in-law, Tom, has started a blog. This makes me very happy because I think he is, like, the funniest man in the world. I think that's why we get along so well. I always laugh at his jokes. It's not uncommon for Tom to make a joke at dinner. My mom and I are laughing so hard we are choking on our food and gasping for breath while Jennifer, Tom's wife, looks annoyed. I don't think she thinks he quite so funny anymore. But I do. I think he's hilarious!!

D called last night and has made a safe return from Iraq to Kuwait to Fort Hood. Oh my gosh, he is such a girl! First thing he tells me is that when he got home his sister took him to Wal-Mart because he didn't have any civilian clothes. Now, we all know how humiliating it must have been for a self-respecting gay man to don clothes from Wal-Mart. The next day, his first stop was the Gap, where he changed into snazzy new jeans and a pink polo in the dressing room and asked the Gap workers to throw away his old clothes. Then, wearing his pink shirt, he promptly went to buy what he has been dreaming about all these months in Iraq...The Golden Girls DVD. That night he went clubbing with some friends. Straight friends. While all they could talk about was how much they needed to get laid, D said, "I just want someone to hold me." What a girl. I can't wait for him to visit. Kevin will never play the Fat Game with me. D is always up for a competitive round of the Fat Game.

My mom brought me a bag of baby pictures this weekend. We had fun going through them. Most I had seen before. I found one, though, that is now framed and in my office. I look to be about three or four and I am on my grandfather's shoulders. I am holding on to his head for dear life and looking uncertainly at the San Francisco ocean at his feet. My mom has a hand on Benno's arm and is smiling up at me. I feel all warm and fuzzy and loved and protected when I look at it.

I need to "shake a tower," as Benno used to say, and get to work.

Home Again?

D was supposed to fly out of Kuwait and back to the States yesterday. Every time the phone rings I am hoping to hear him say, "HEL-loooo." That's how he always says it. When he gets back he's going to come visit me for a couple of days. We're going to go to every mall in the Kansas City metro area! The phone has only rang (rung? ringed?) twice. It was my Mom and my sister. It's not that I don't love hearing from them, but they haven't been at war for the last six months! Keep your thoughts with D and the other soldiers trying to get home to the people who love them and more still with the soldiers who are leaving the people who love them.

My new scarf--I made it all by myself!! I'm a knittin' machine! Now if only I could figure out how to make something besides a scarf... 

Friends in Far Places

My sister and I both read Van's blog. I don't remember how we found it, but we both enjoy it and read it daily. A couple of months ago when Kev and I were visiting my family, we had the following conversation:

Jennifer: Did you read Van's blog this week?

Me: I know! They sent him an email!

Jennifer: I know! Poor Van.

Me: Yeah, poor Van.

Kevin: Who's Van?

Jennifer: He's our friend.

Me: He's a doctor.

Jennifer: He lives in L.A.

Me: He's really cool.

(giggles)

Really, though, he's our friend. We like him. He's smart. He's cute. He's funny. He's our blog-friend. Hi, Van!

Laughing Headache

It used to happen all the time. Mostly with my Brad. Almost daily, it seemed, something would happen to make us laugh so hard that we were gasping for breath and our stomach muscles were spasming. A few minutes later, we would be leaning on each other for support, worn out by laughter, and our heads would be throbbing from the lack of air. The older I get, I seem to get fewer laughing headaches.

Sure, Kevin and I laugh together. We laugh together often, actually. But it's rarely the doubled over almost peeing your pants laughter. Last night we had our friend, Jenny, over for dinner. She's the most finicky eater on Earth so dinner was grilled hot dogs and boxed macaroni and cheese. She never lets me show off in the kitchen. Jenny lives about an hour away, but was working in the city for the day and came over after work. She had forgotten comfy clothes and refused to pig out on hot dogs in her suit. Since we were going out anyway to buy her some knitting supplies, we stopped at Target for her to grab some clearance crap. She didn't try it on. I was busy cleaning up the trail Kevin had made when he walked in the house and didn't notice her after she had changed. She said the pants were a little short, but I didn't even look. After dinner, we went out for ice cream. I took a good look at her and burst out laughing. I could hardly form the words, "Your pants!" They were total highwaters. She looked ridiculous. I tried to get her to drag her pants down around her butt, but they were still too short and they just looked like thuggish highwaters. I was finally able to train my eyes to not look at her legs. It was difficult. By the time we were all in the car and driving down our street, I realized with satisfaction that I had a laughing headache. It doesn't take much--just a friend looking like a fool--to make me laugh.

Censorship? Ignorance?

Did I ever mention that my husband is a very talented artist? Really. He's, like, really good. After we got our new furniture, he decided that the paintings hanging in the living room weren't "sophisticated" enough. We spent an evening rifling through his portfolios and picking out figure sketches. Instead of getting them custom framed, we decided to try to save some dough by picking out ready-made frames and having a mat cut. It didn't take us long to find nice black frames in our price range at Hobby Lobby. We took them to the framing counter and while Kevin was explaining what he wanted them to do, he began taking the sketches out of his portfolio. The Frame Lady's eyes got wide and offended. She touched the very corner of the paper as to not be contaminated with sin. She said that she would cut the mat for us, but would not put the product together because it was against company policy to frame nudes. I don't remember what we said. I don't think we were able to say anything. I think we just stood there gaping at her so she explained, "You see, we're a Christian store." Oh. They are a Christian store. That explains everything, right? No. That's doesn't explain anything. Kevin swore that was the last time he would ever set foot in a Hobby Lobby. I reminded him that we would have to return to get matching frames for the other sketches. He stomped his foot and said that was the second to last time he would ever set foot in a Hobby Lobby.

So the drawings look great in the living room. I foresee a problem, though. That night, we had Kevin's family over for dinner. His sister walked in and said, "Whoah, who's the naked lady?" I yelled from the kitchen, "It's not me!" Then his Dad called back, "Are you sure?" Panicked, but unable to leave the kitchen, I said, "It's not me! It's not me! It's not me!" I think this is going to happen a lot. Please. As if I would hang a nude drawing of myself for the world to see.

Later that night Colleen, Kevin's big sister, taught me how to knit. I'm cool and with it now. I'm knitting a scarf and tonight I'm going to share my knowledge with my friend, Jenny. When I was in about the fourth grade, my great grandma, Mimi, tried to teach me how to crochet. It didn't go well. In my defense, she was in her 90's and was not the best teacher. I made hot-pads to give to my sister for her wedding shower. They were terrible. They were all curled up in themselves and I had to tell her what they were. She said she liked them, though, and I was very proud. She probably doesn't even remember that. I think my scarf is going better.

I mean, really. What does this country (or the portion this country that not only watches American Idol, but actually calls in to vote) have against gorgeous black men? Why can't they stay? I think we should eliminate the riff raff and keep things beautiful. Please don't hate me.

Weekend Update

1) Kevin and I bought living room furniture. Goodbye empty room! You should see the look on strangers' faces when you open the front door to them and invite them into an empty house.

2) We ate dinner at the Goods' house on Saturday and Sarah and I sat there for the millionth time and listened to Nathan and Kevin relive every moment of their freshman year of college. Do we have to do that every time?

3) We woke up on Sunday morning and realized that our neighbor's yard had caught fire.

4) Top had a very traumatic weekend. She had to have a bath two days in a row because she got all crusty and smelly on Sunday. She also at one point escaped and I found her barking at the front door. She seemed happy. I don't know where she was or how she got out of the house.

5) Kevin cleaned the gutters because the forecast called for thunderstorms.

6) We had the season's first thunderstorm.

7) Kevin and I went through all of his portfolios trying to decide which figure drawings to frame and put in the living room. Yes, we're going to have nude drawings in the living room. No, they are not of me. Puh-lease.

8) We took advantage of the beautiful weather and took Top for long walks. Her big ol' beagle ears catch the wind and she just moves her head back and forth. We kept expecting her to levitate and fly, fly away. She kept looking back to see why those two crazy people holding her leash were laughing so hard and flapping their arms.

9) I got all caught up on my TiVoed soap operas from the week. ATWT: Julia is dead and Lily can't deal with the guilt! Lily is going to tell Holden about the accident and ruin not only her life, family, and marriage, but those of Carly, too! B&B: Will Brooke forgive Ridge's betrayal? How could he have kissed her daughter? Y&R: Malcolm is Lily's biological father! Oh, my--Bobby is kissing Nikki and JT saw the whole thing! Will he tell Brittany? What about Brittany and Bobby's baby on the way?...I'm beyond pathetic.

This week I voted for Amanda and Nikko. How much does Nikko look just like his daddy? So cute!