I just ate some string cheese.
I eat some everyday.
I think it's fun to pull off the little strings cuz it's like an adventure to see how small I can get them.
I think this time a piece found it's way up to my left nostril when I swallowed.
I've sneezed.
I've blown.
I think it's stuck in there.
It's not comfortable.
That's not where cheese is supposed to be.
I've blown out spaghetti and chocolate cake before, so I guess I just add this little friend as another food group to make it's way up to my olfactory . . . factory.
I hope it comes out soon, because I bet rotting cheese stuck in a nostril smells extra bad.
Friday, October 26, 2012
Monday, October 15, 2012
Mulling Around . . .
Today I woke up very tired. Was it because the weekend was filled with Halloween parties? Was it because yesterday was another crazy Sunday full of meetings? Was it because we had friends over last night for dinner? Was it because Madden, the white puppy, woke me up at 1:00am to do numbers one AND two in the backyard? Was it because I had to take my sweet boy to seminary at 5:55am? Was it because it was so very humid all.night.long even though we set the AC to 74F and had our fan blasting above us?
Who knows.
All I know is I woke up at 5:40am and wanted to go straight back to sleep . . . but I didn't. I mulled around the house for a while, made some nasty peanut butter sandwiches for my three favorite people, took two of them to school, ironed a shirt for the other one . . . and then at 8:50am? I crawled back into my cozy bed.
And I slept.
For an hour.
When I woke?
Man, I felt ALIVE! (But a little wonky at the same time. Something about going back to bed in the morning makes me shaky when I wake up, like earthquake shaky. Weird.)
Anyhow, I cleaned up the kitchen, and did a bunch of church stuff, and then got dressed to pick up my little, black lab buddy. But as I was putting on my shoes I told my little, furry friends, that I was going to the gym.
But was I?
No.
Darn.
I haven't been to the gym in a week now.
Pathetic.
The gym is where I go to work out my girlie muscles but I keep missing it.
Yes, I run about three miles a day, five or six times a week, but that's not helping my grandma arm flab to go away nor my jiggly thighs to firm up as much as those silly weights and machines and free personal trainer . . . that I never hired (that's a story for another day) at the gym do.
However, it was 11:00am already, and getting hot, so I knew I had to leave for my dog walking job and skip the gym once again.
Side note: For not being a pet person, how'd I end up entertaining three dogs a day? I guess animals just love me . . . or I'm still paying my penance for the way we treated our dog "Ginger" when we were kids . . . can this redeem me from that? Fingers crossed!
Anyhooo, so I'm lamenting forgetting the gym again.
I walk out to the car and drive to Sasha's home.
I get out of the car, go through the fence, and suddenly . . .
I'm a Chinese Warrior!
There's spiderweb, the real stuff, strung right in my path but I could not see it. It covers my arms and chest.
Sick!
I immediately go into the warrior mode, using my fake wooden pole with a pokey-arrow-thingie on the tip, to fight off the imaginary bad guys, in the form of a spider web.
Annnnndddddd, where's the spider? AAAAHHHH!! I never found him, even though upon finishing my battle, I vigorously wiped myself down again and again in hopes to swat the wretched creepy-crawly away from my person.
Then, I breathlessly, (not really but it sounds better) make it to the back door, and enter, and think to myself "Hey, my arm muscles are feeling a little less fling-ee now. Alright!"
Good deal!
One arm workout out of the way!
Cuz you see, when I go to the gym, I do five different arm workouts each time, therefore, four to go.
But really?
Was I really wanting to do four more on the jog?
Ummm, no.
No I wasn't.
But did I have a choice?
Apparently not.
Sasha and I leave. We jog. We get to our path just past the park and BAM! Now I'm a Ju-Jitsu Master! There's thick web straight across the lower and upper knee section of my person! I'm running between bushes on a cemented path. SHEESH stupid spiders, can you NOT just web yourselves between bushes and NOT across all my paths today? So, I Ju-jitsu my way out of that web and move on. Again, where's the owner of the sticky mess? I don't know! Is he on my person? I DON'T KNOW! But, my arms sure feel more solid . . .
Three arm workouts to go.
We contine.
We run pass the Magnum P.I. dogs, you know, the Doberman Pincher kind? There's two. They are very evil I think. They try to attack us through the rod iron slats of their fenced yard every. single. day. I'm pretty sure they want to eat my face off.
We get to the school where our daughter attends. We turn to head towards the tennis courts. We make it to the curb by the stop sign and low and behold!?! What happens? This time I will win! I see the thick cob web floating in the wind like the tail of a kit, strung around the pole's sign, and I dodge it! YES! I do a fist pump in my head.
I count that dream of a workout, as a success!
Two arm workouts to go.
We jog on past the school parking lot and get up to the watering hole. It's what I like to call the area where the sprinklers run off so much that it forms a sweet little lake that Sasha can drink from.
She drinks.
We turn around and head back home because this is our half-way point.
We jog.
Passed the new housing lots. Oh look! They are putting up the boards for two new homes! Exciting!
Past the Magnum dogs. I remind Sasha that they are creepy friends we don't want to play with.
Past the pumpkin laden houses. So cute and festive!
Past the jungle of swayed-trunked trees. Why are they all leaning that way?
Past the crazy dog who runs back and forth and up and down the sides of his fences because he's excited to see us. Except today he has a buddy with him . . . a little white doggie friend . . . but that's another story . . .
Past the tall twin Christmas Trees that I'm always certain to survey closely to be sure no creeper is hiding in to attack me.
Past the Obama signed home. Really? Whatever.
Past the playground where I breathlessly tell the moms and kids to "Have a great day!"
Past the pond and up to the stop sign.
We head on down the road and keep on going.
We turn the corner.
We head down the driveway alley.
We get to Sasha's gate and I'm okay with that because I know the web is gone now. But is it?
I go to enter the gate.
BAM!
I'm a Kung Fu Champion! There's web outSIDE of the fence now! I slice and dice the air, and my body, to remove the webbing from my person.
Seriously???
Yes, yes, arm workout #4? Done!
I take Sasha in.
She plops herself to the floor.
I fill her water bowl because it was a wee bit low.
Do I have four spiders on me now?
I don't know.
It's time for me to go.
I pet Sasha, tell her she's a good girl, tell her not to destroy or eat anymore naughty things (because when I got there she had finished off a chocolate power bar, and a computer cord . . . whoops!), and leave.
I'm certain I'm in the clear because I've de-webbed this backyard and the fence!
I let myself out, careful not to step in the poop pile right by the gate.
I walk around to the other side of my car.
I click the button on my key to unlock it.
I open the door, stick one leg in, and chuck my purse in frantically, fast-forward style, onto the passenger seat.
Why you ask?????
BECAUSE THERE WAS A SPIDER WEB WRAPPED AROUND MY CAR AND NOW, SUBSEQUENTLY, WRAPPED AROUND MY PERSON!
ME!
MY BODY!
WEBBING, ALL OVER MY FACE!
MY ARMS!
MY TORSO!
I immediately whipped out my best Mixed Martial Arts moves and invisible nun-chucks to destroy the enemy that was more webbing.
"What in the world!" I exclaim out loud.
And yes my friends, arm workout #5 is now complete.
I still feel like my person has things crawling all over it. But, I think I'm officially de-webbed and my grandma flab is just a little bit less than it was before 11:00am on this fine, autumn, Texas morning.
So here's some shout-outs today and a decision.
Thanks Universe! Thanks for kicking me into shape even though I was so tired today that I went back to bed and missed my gym's window-of-opportunity.
And, thanks Mother Nature for helping me make up that gym time.
Except, next time?
I think I'll mull myself directly over to the gym at 8:50am, instead of directly back into my cozy bed.
I'd rather workout my jiggle-ees without the help of earth's creepy-crawly friends and their homes they call webs.
Who knows.
All I know is I woke up at 5:40am and wanted to go straight back to sleep . . . but I didn't. I mulled around the house for a while, made some nasty peanut butter sandwiches for my three favorite people, took two of them to school, ironed a shirt for the other one . . . and then at 8:50am? I crawled back into my cozy bed.
And I slept.
For an hour.
When I woke?
Man, I felt ALIVE! (But a little wonky at the same time. Something about going back to bed in the morning makes me shaky when I wake up, like earthquake shaky. Weird.)
Anyhow, I cleaned up the kitchen, and did a bunch of church stuff, and then got dressed to pick up my little, black lab buddy. But as I was putting on my shoes I told my little, furry friends, that I was going to the gym.
But was I?
No.
Darn.
I haven't been to the gym in a week now.
Pathetic.
The gym is where I go to work out my girlie muscles but I keep missing it.
Yes, I run about three miles a day, five or six times a week, but that's not helping my grandma arm flab to go away nor my jiggly thighs to firm up as much as those silly weights and machines and free personal trainer . . . that I never hired (that's a story for another day) at the gym do.
However, it was 11:00am already, and getting hot, so I knew I had to leave for my dog walking job and skip the gym once again.
Side note: For not being a pet person, how'd I end up entertaining three dogs a day? I guess animals just love me . . . or I'm still paying my penance for the way we treated our dog "Ginger" when we were kids . . . can this redeem me from that? Fingers crossed!
Anyhooo, so I'm lamenting forgetting the gym again.
I walk out to the car and drive to Sasha's home.
I get out of the car, go through the fence, and suddenly . . .
I'm a Chinese Warrior!
There's spiderweb, the real stuff, strung right in my path but I could not see it. It covers my arms and chest.
Sick!
I immediately go into the warrior mode, using my fake wooden pole with a pokey-arrow-thingie on the tip, to fight off the imaginary bad guys, in the form of a spider web.
Annnnndddddd, where's the spider? AAAAHHHH!! I never found him, even though upon finishing my battle, I vigorously wiped myself down again and again in hopes to swat the wretched creepy-crawly away from my person.
Then, I breathlessly, (not really but it sounds better) make it to the back door, and enter, and think to myself "Hey, my arm muscles are feeling a little less fling-ee now. Alright!"
Good deal!
One arm workout out of the way!
Cuz you see, when I go to the gym, I do five different arm workouts each time, therefore, four to go.
But really?
Was I really wanting to do four more on the jog?
Ummm, no.
No I wasn't.
But did I have a choice?
Apparently not.
Sasha and I leave. We jog. We get to our path just past the park and BAM! Now I'm a Ju-Jitsu Master! There's thick web straight across the lower and upper knee section of my person! I'm running between bushes on a cemented path. SHEESH stupid spiders, can you NOT just web yourselves between bushes and NOT across all my paths today? So, I Ju-jitsu my way out of that web and move on. Again, where's the owner of the sticky mess? I don't know! Is he on my person? I DON'T KNOW! But, my arms sure feel more solid . . .
Three arm workouts to go.
We contine.
We run pass the Magnum P.I. dogs, you know, the Doberman Pincher kind? There's two. They are very evil I think. They try to attack us through the rod iron slats of their fenced yard every. single. day. I'm pretty sure they want to eat my face off.
We get to the school where our daughter attends. We turn to head towards the tennis courts. We make it to the curb by the stop sign and low and behold!?! What happens? This time I will win! I see the thick cob web floating in the wind like the tail of a kit, strung around the pole's sign, and I dodge it! YES! I do a fist pump in my head.
I count that dream of a workout, as a success!
Two arm workouts to go.
We jog on past the school parking lot and get up to the watering hole. It's what I like to call the area where the sprinklers run off so much that it forms a sweet little lake that Sasha can drink from.
She drinks.
We turn around and head back home because this is our half-way point.
We jog.
Passed the new housing lots. Oh look! They are putting up the boards for two new homes! Exciting!
Past the Magnum dogs. I remind Sasha that they are creepy friends we don't want to play with.
Past the pumpkin laden houses. So cute and festive!
Past the jungle of swayed-trunked trees. Why are they all leaning that way?
Past the crazy dog who runs back and forth and up and down the sides of his fences because he's excited to see us. Except today he has a buddy with him . . . a little white doggie friend . . . but that's another story . . .
Past the tall twin Christmas Trees that I'm always certain to survey closely to be sure no creeper is hiding in to attack me.
Past the Obama signed home. Really? Whatever.
Past the playground where I breathlessly tell the moms and kids to "Have a great day!"
Past the pond and up to the stop sign.
We head on down the road and keep on going.
We turn the corner.
We head down the driveway alley.
We get to Sasha's gate and I'm okay with that because I know the web is gone now. But is it?
I go to enter the gate.
BAM!
I'm a Kung Fu Champion! There's web outSIDE of the fence now! I slice and dice the air, and my body, to remove the webbing from my person.
Seriously???
Yes, yes, arm workout #4? Done!
I take Sasha in.
She plops herself to the floor.
I fill her water bowl because it was a wee bit low.
Do I have four spiders on me now?
I don't know.
It's time for me to go.
I pet Sasha, tell her she's a good girl, tell her not to destroy or eat anymore naughty things (because when I got there she had finished off a chocolate power bar, and a computer cord . . . whoops!), and leave.
I'm certain I'm in the clear because I've de-webbed this backyard and the fence!
I let myself out, careful not to step in the poop pile right by the gate.
I walk around to the other side of my car.
I click the button on my key to unlock it.
I open the door, stick one leg in, and chuck my purse in frantically, fast-forward style, onto the passenger seat.
Why you ask?????
BECAUSE THERE WAS A SPIDER WEB WRAPPED AROUND MY CAR AND NOW, SUBSEQUENTLY, WRAPPED AROUND MY PERSON!
ME!
MY BODY!
WEBBING, ALL OVER MY FACE!
MY ARMS!
MY TORSO!
I immediately whipped out my best Mixed Martial Arts moves and invisible nun-chucks to destroy the enemy that was more webbing.
"What in the world!" I exclaim out loud.
And yes my friends, arm workout #5 is now complete.
I still feel like my person has things crawling all over it. But, I think I'm officially de-webbed and my grandma flab is just a little bit less than it was before 11:00am on this fine, autumn, Texas morning.
So here's some shout-outs today and a decision.
Thanks Universe! Thanks for kicking me into shape even though I was so tired today that I went back to bed and missed my gym's window-of-opportunity.
And, thanks Mother Nature for helping me make up that gym time.
Except, next time?
I think I'll mull myself directly over to the gym at 8:50am, instead of directly back into my cozy bed.
I'd rather workout my jiggle-ees without the help of earth's creepy-crawly friends and their homes they call webs.
Wednesday, October 10, 2012
CrEeEeEePy!
Hey, know what would be creepy?
If you were pulling fake spider webs off of fake black spiders cuz you need them for a cake and one got up and ran away . . . cuz he wasn't fake, and neither was his spider web.
No thanks, that wouldn't be okay!
I'm hoping that doesn't happen because I have a pile sitting in my lap and that thought keeps scurrying through my mind.
That wouldn't be okay, nope, not at all.
If you were pulling fake spider webs off of fake black spiders cuz you need them for a cake and one got up and ran away . . . cuz he wasn't fake, and neither was his spider web.
No thanks, that wouldn't be okay!
I'm hoping that doesn't happen because I have a pile sitting in my lap and that thought keeps scurrying through my mind.
That wouldn't be okay, nope, not at all.
Wednesday, October 3, 2012
Game on!
So, I'm not really a competitive person. I don't usually care if I win or lose, I really don't. I just enjoy playing the game, chit-chatting, and laughing my zit-scared face off!
HOWever . . .
sometimes . . .
. . . and only sometimes . . .
I get PuShEd To ThE eDgE.
This, my friends, is one of those times.
In a nutshell, I volunteered to do a Halloween party for the combined Young Women and Young Men activity this month since the Laurels are in charge and I'm the YW President.
Now, let's be honest, I rock at parties-- I always have . . . and I always will!
You can't trump me on this one.
Okay, so sure, birthday parties I've never done a fabulous job of, sorry kiddos. But parties in High School (thanks Mom and Dad) and Halloween?
CoMe On! No one can beat those!
So . . .
When you are a person who is supposed to attend this party and you keep making snide remarks about this party? Saying things like "YOUR party . . . blah, blah, blah" repetitively to my face, and things like "I hope you plan to clear out all your furniture in your house for this!" . . . then you know what buddy?
GAME ON!!
What this person doesn't know is that our LAST Halloween party had 75, that's right, SEVENTY-FIVE in attendance, AND our house was 800, yes, EIGHT-HUNDRED square feet SMALLER!!!
This time we have an EXTRA 800 square feet and only FIFTY who have RSVP'd and I dare say that more will show up than that!
Plus, we ordered a Medievil BOUNCE HOUSE!!
Can I hear a "HOLLAH!!" WOOT WOOT!
Soooooooo . . .
GAME ON!
This person has no idea what monster has now been created. I will show this person that they have severely . . . SEVERELY mis-underestimated me.
And, in the end?
Who will come out on top?
Uhhhh, that'd be . . .
THE KIDS!!!
They are gonna LOVE IT!
And they'll talk about it for days and weeks and months to come . . . until . . .
the NEXT ONE!
THAT'S RIGHT, CUZ I'LL DO IT ALL OVER AGAIN NEXT YEAR!
HA!
TAKE THAT!
So, there you go. A little pre-party rampage for you all to chuckle over . . .
Stay tuned, I'll post pictures of course!
One and a half weeks left to prepare . . . MUWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!
P.S.
BOO to nay-sayers!
BOOOOO! BOOOOOO!! (Please pronounce that like the creepy witch lady on the Princess Bride.)
HOWever . . .
sometimes . . .
. . . and only sometimes . . .
I get PuShEd To ThE eDgE.
This, my friends, is one of those times.
In a nutshell, I volunteered to do a Halloween party for the combined Young Women and Young Men activity this month since the Laurels are in charge and I'm the YW President.
Now, let's be honest, I rock at parties-- I always have . . . and I always will!
You can't trump me on this one.
Okay, so sure, birthday parties I've never done a fabulous job of, sorry kiddos. But parties in High School (thanks Mom and Dad) and Halloween?
CoMe On! No one can beat those!
So . . .
When you are a person who is supposed to attend this party and you keep making snide remarks about this party? Saying things like "YOUR party . . . blah, blah, blah" repetitively to my face, and things like "I hope you plan to clear out all your furniture in your house for this!" . . . then you know what buddy?
GAME ON!!
What this person doesn't know is that our LAST Halloween party had 75, that's right, SEVENTY-FIVE in attendance, AND our house was 800, yes, EIGHT-HUNDRED square feet SMALLER!!!
This time we have an EXTRA 800 square feet and only FIFTY who have RSVP'd and I dare say that more will show up than that!
Plus, we ordered a Medievil BOUNCE HOUSE!!
Can I hear a "HOLLAH!!" WOOT WOOT!
Soooooooo . . .
GAME ON!
This person has no idea what monster has now been created. I will show this person that they have severely . . . SEVERELY mis-underestimated me.
And, in the end?
Who will come out on top?
Uhhhh, that'd be . . .
THE KIDS!!!
They are gonna LOVE IT!
And they'll talk about it for days and weeks and months to come . . . until . . .
the NEXT ONE!
THAT'S RIGHT, CUZ I'LL DO IT ALL OVER AGAIN NEXT YEAR!
HA!
TAKE THAT!
So, there you go. A little pre-party rampage for you all to chuckle over . . .
Stay tuned, I'll post pictures of course!
One and a half weeks left to prepare . . . MUWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!
P.S.
BOO to nay-sayers!
BOOOOO! BOOOOOO!! (Please pronounce that like the creepy witch lady on the Princess Bride.)
Wednesday, August 15, 2012
I'm Baaaaaaaaaack! And Pinterest is Busted!
Oh my goodness . . . I'm baaaaaaaacccckkkkk!!! Can you believe it?
That's right, I'm back online, after almost three years, or maybe it's four? I should look but that's not going to happen. Why? Because I'm too traumatized by my dinner tonight.
I know, right?
After all these years, I'm "back" because I'm traumatized by my dinner? Yes my friends, yes, that is correct, back because of what just occured in my kitchen.
So here you go, my first posting in a lotta years.
Sooooo,
That's right, I'm back online, after almost three years, or maybe it's four? I should look but that's not going to happen. Why? Because I'm too traumatized by my dinner tonight.
I know, right?
After all these years, I'm "back" because I'm traumatized by my dinner? Yes my friends, yes, that is correct, back because of what just occured in my kitchen.
So here you go, my first posting in a lotta years.
Sooooo,
Pinterest failed me in the recipe department again.
I made some chicken . . .
It's hot,
spicy hot,
make your nose run hot.
We had to dip it in ranch dressing to survive it.
But, let's back up a moment shall we???
For this recipe, I finally, after THIRTY SEVEN AND A HALF YEARS, pounded out some chicken breasts with a mallet.
Do you KNOW how TRAUMATIZING THAT IS???
CUZ it IS!
It went something like this:
First, I cut off all the nasties, like normal.
They looked good, like normal.
Then I got out the mallet and starting pounding and hitting and smashing them . . . it seemed very barbaric!
I wanted to cry.
I felt awful and dirty and disgusting.
I may have well gone and broken the poor chicken's neck myself . . .
. . . and chopped it's head off . . .
. . . and then plucked all it's feathers . . . .
. . . AND, to make matter worse, there were even some creepy things in there that was NOT chicken breast but like NECK TUBING or something and it was all bloody.
WHAT?!?!?!?!? Was the original butcher BLIND?!?!?!?!?!
This is NOT OKAY IN MY BOOK PEOPLE!!
So anyways, I'm beating the snot outta this stuff and pieces of it are chunking off and flying all over the cookie sheet it's on.
Seriously, SO SICK AND WRONG!!
Anyways, so I finishing whacking the snot out of it and I take off the top layer of the wax paper and HOLY SCHNIKEES!!!
THERE'S A WHOLE NOTHER SLEW OF VEINS AND BLOODY THINGS AND WHITE THICK STRINGY THINGS IN THERE. WHAT THE FREAK?????
Hadn't I just gotten rid of ALLLLL OF THOSE???
Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh.
So I pull myself together and slop the rest of the mess together and roll it up and toothpick it and then think I feel like I should pray and repent for all the chaos I caused to that poor chickens body today.
It was terrible.
And to top it off, it burned the snot out of our mouths, nose running kind of heat, stupid cajun seasoning!
What a waste.
FAIL PINTEREST, FAIL!
Sometimes I think Pinterest is just one person . . . and they are laughing at me.
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