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Wednesday, September 30, 2009

The rash that ate Wednesday

My rash on my neck (of all places!) is worse, so I went to the doctor this morning and he very helpfully told me to knock it the fuck off with the beauty products. Essentially, Anthem Blue Cross and I paid him an exorbitant fee to be told that if we stop touching it, it will get better. He told me to get some OTC hydrocortizone cream and stop being so damn vain. Ok, he didn't say that last part, but it was implied.

Sigh.

So my day off was spent going to a useless doctor appt., the drug store, and buying paper towels in mass quantities at Sam's Club. Then I was so exhausted that I came home and took a 2 hour nap, and that was my day.

I need a smile, so let me share something that I came across yesterday during my internet travels. It's this little lipdubbing music video made by some students at the University of Quebec at Montreal - they did a little music video to the Black Eyed Peas song, "I Got A Feelin'."

I didn't see any edits, so I'm impressed! It's cute and well done and obviously took a lot of planning and choreography. Check it out:



SMILE! It's hump day, and so begins the slow slide into the weekend! Hopefully I will be blotch-free by then.

Tuesday, September 29, 2009

The burning means it's working!

Recently I started a new skin care regimen, and judging by the rash that's appeared on my neck, I don't think it's gonna work out. A few weeks ago I was chatting with a new acquaintance at a kid's birthday party and he (yes, he -- don't judge!) started telling me about this product he is using that is helping to fade his crow's feet and fine lines. Of course you all know that I plan to fight aging tooth & nail, so I perked up and took notes. I was sitting right next to him, and his skin DID look fantastic!

Laurie ran right out and bought it and reported that her skin felt soft and lovely. She was kind enough to give me the little travel sized samples that came with her kit, so I gave it a try. Incidentally, even my husband thought I was crazy when he saw the product in the bathroom. His exact words were, "Why are you using an acne product? You don't have acne!" When I told him about my fine lines he actually snorted.

I'm really glad I didn't purchase the whole kit without trying it because it immediately started causing problems. It burned! It left me with red splotches on each cheek! My face felt dry even after applying the lotion! And now, weeks after I started using it, I'm breaking out in a rash and I'm itching in weird places like my hairline, neck, and ears.

Fuck this noise! Now I think I need to go get a professional facial. This itching is ridonk!

I've been faithfully rubbing the lotion on its skin since I was 18 years old. In fact, I remember the day I started because it was one of those blustery, sub-zero winter days in Burlington, VT, and my face felt tight and dry as I slid into my seat in French class one day. I had become friendly with a girl who sat next to me, and as I dug through my bag for my lip balm I remember kvetching about how dry my skin felt. This girl was tiny and had some sort of indistinguishable foreign accent, and she proceeded to school me on how I needed to moisturize. I remember her little fingers grazing her own flawless cheeks, her eyes wide and intense, as she told me how moisturizer is basically the fountain of youth and an essential ingredient to being a hot babe.

Clearly, she was very convincing. Strangely enough, I never saw her again after that one class, and I don't even remember her name, but I think about her almost every time I buy moisturizer. Life is so odd. It's quite possible that she was an angel, but I can't back that up.

So, I'm back in the market for a fantastic line-reducing skincare line. Suggestions welcome. Guys, no facial jokes or I shall find you and pummel you with a rubber chicken.

Let's see, what else is new? I stumbled across something very dirty last night involving our friend Colin Farrell. VERY DIRTY. So that was a fun way to spend 13 minutes. (Do I need to tell you that it's NSFW? Because it SO is. In fact I'd say it's NSFA - not safe for anywhere. Yes, that means it's pron. Proceed with caution!)

Tell 'em Bev sent you. Enjoy, my delightful little pervs, and don't say I never gave you anything!

XOXO

Monday, September 28, 2009

That's a wrap!

Hiya! Hope everyone had a nice weekend. I'm feeling a little sassy this morning, most likely a result of getting more sleep than usual over the last couple of days. Let's wrap this mutha up, shall we?

Friday night I was supposed to go out to dinner with the lovely Malomatic, but I had a spell of tummy troubles so I had to take a rain check. BOOOOOO! It's a good thing I stayed home, though, and that's all I'm gonna say about that. Bedtime was 9:45 PM, because I am cool like 'dat.

Saturday I felt a little better and it was a beautiful Fall day, so naturally I spent the first half inside, cleaning. I scrubbed the floors, the bathrooms, the kitchen, then the kids. It may sound boring, but it was actually extremely satisfying!



Later in the afternoon Jillinator came over with her daughters and we went apple picking. We had a good time and then came back to my place to have a glass of wine and a chat, then ended up making a pie together.

Behold our beautiful (and delicious) apple pie!



Jill was going out that night but I took a rain check on that one, too. I know! Very un-Bev! I just wasn't feeling terrific this weekend and wanted to relax, that's all. I'm sure I'll get my groove back soon!

Bedtime: Asleep on the couch by 10:15. WOOT.

Sunday I did nothin'. Absolutely nothin'. I played with the kids all morning, then J let me have some solo time in my room, which I LOVE. I watched a movie I'd already seen (Burn After Reading), read a little, and just stared at the wall for a while. It rocked. Last night we watched the season premier of Dexter (LOVE that show) and cleared a few other shows off the DVR, but that's about it.

I'm pleased to report that my attention span seems to be making a come-back. YAY! I am embarrassed that I haven't been able to focus much since, oh, April? I'm not sure, somewhere last Spring I stopped reading, writing, and even watching movies and my favorite shows. Yes, it was right around the time when my dad got his diagnosis and subsequently passed away.

I noticed a week or so ago that I was craving a good book, and I felt encouraged. After all, I've always been an avid reader and when this malaise came over me I literally put down two novels in mid-sentence and never looked at them again. Strangely enough, I still don't want to read those two novels anymore; they've become permanently tainted in my mind, I'm afraid. Kind of like how I can't watch Slumdog Millionaire because I tried to watch it the night Dad died, so now the two things are linked in my mind.

Recently I've found myself watching movies again. Over the past couple of weeks I've seen:

Frozen River
Excellent indie drama with a talented cast of unknowns. Very simple but moving.

Volver
I have been meaning to watch this movie for ages - AGES - but I was never in the mood to sit through a movie with subtitles. I'm so glad I finally did. I loved everything about it, and about an hour in I realized it was quickly becoming one of my favorite movies ever. I've never had much of an opinion about Penelope Cruz before, but she was outstanding (and gorgeous) in this film. The language was incredibly beautiful to listen to, and it was just well-done on every level. LOVED it.

Now that I know that I have the attention span to read subtitles again, I can finally bump I've Loved You So Long back up to the top of my Netflix queue, too. Yay!

Little Children
I'd seen this one before and liked it, so I watched it again and liked it just as much as the first time. Kate Winslet is one of my favorite actors, and the hot sex scenes with Patrick Wilson are only PART of the reason why this movie rocks. It's smart and intense and makes you think hard about tough subjects. It actually makes you feel sorry for child molestors and adulterers. What I love most about the movie is the growing sense of dread that you feel as you watch it; you feel like you're being shoved towards the inevitable climax, and you know it's gonna be scary and hurt but you can't stop watching. It's sublime. I dig it.

Burn After Reading
I dunno, this movie is just okay. George Clooney is really funny in it, and I like most of the actors in it, but I've tried to watch it twice now and I can't seem to make it all the way to the end without losing interest. I make it to the point where a certain character gets offed, and then I just kind of... drift. Meh.

Knowing
Ugh, I can't believe I watched a new Nic Cage movie. It sucked, and I'm not just saying that because it's about aliens and shit. It was really, really bad, and really, really long. Not a good combo.

Anywho, it's good to be able to pay attention for longer periods of time again. I've even begun jotting down ideas in my handy-dandy notebook again and spent a couple of hours writing the other day. Could this be the return of Creative Bev? I hope so -- I've missed her.

Stay tuned.

Hope everyone is avoiding "The Mondays" today.

Thursday, September 24, 2009

Why the frak did I know that?

Do you ever blurt out an answer to some ridiculous trivia question and then find yourself wondering when your brain became cluttered with so much worthless knowledge? I do.

Just now someone in my office made a comment about dancing at a big Irish wedding he'd attended last weekend, and I made a sarcastic humorous comment about how he must have looked like the Lord of the Dance. He stared at me blankly because I work with a bunch of boring asswads who don't get my jokes (ever!), and I said, "You know, Michael Flatley? The Lord of the Dance?" I held my arms over my head and chair-danced a little Irish jig for effect.

Still nothin'.

Now, I've never once SEEN Riverdance with my own eyes, and I certainly couldn't pick Michael Flatley out of a famous Irishman line-up*, yet I know his name and what he's famous for, and can even mimic his famous dancing style on cue. What the damn? What ELSE is in this noggin that I have no business knowing?

* For the record, my Famous Irishman line-up would look something like this:


(edited for El Frankerino)

To sum up, my brain is filled with worthless crap, I'm in a bad mood today, people are very disappointing creatures, and I need a hug & a big glass of wine. Stick a fork in me, I'm done. (OW! I didn't mean literally!)

Wednesday, September 23, 2009

I was just big-boned, plus: the narcoleptic years

That's right, today I'm opening up The VAULT!



I'm the chubby 1-year-old in the wife-beater & saggy diaper who looks like she wants to punch my cousin John in the face. If you met John, you'd know why. That's my bratty older sister, who was rockin' the Marcia Brady 'do and holey pj pants, and my other cousin Mike is doing his best Napoleon Dynamite impression in the back.

My parents like to talk about how I was such a great sleeper when I was a child, which honestly doesn't surprise me. I mean, you're all aware of my tendency towards slothfulness and my deep love of sleeping, right? Apparently as a kid I would be running across the floor full-tilt and then I'd trip and go to sleep right there on the floor (and no, I had not suffered a head injury in the fall). It happened a lot. Hey, what can I say? Girlfriend likes her sleep.

Looking through old photos of me is kind of boring as a result. What can I say except, "Oh yeah, that looks like a great nap." or "Awww, yeah, snuggle it baby!"



I remember that cat (Rocky) and I also remember that pillow case. It was Family Circus, and oh, how I howled with laughter over that zany family! Really, my sides hurt.
(Was that comic strip EVER funny? Honestly!)



Here I am sleeping through The Nutcracker. My grandmother had written on the back of this photo that I fell asleep immediately but that she and Debbie really enjoyed it. Looks like I did, too.

And finally, because I love you all, here's one of those photos of my lovely sister during her "awkward phase." Isn't she a good sport for letting me share her Beavis & Butthead look? Props to my sis, who went on to become a stone cold fox. WOOT!



Velour - I kind of miss it, don't you?

Ok, that's all I'm sharing today. Don't wanna shoot my photo wad all in one day! Hope you enjoyed this walk down memory lane. Have a happy hump day, everyone!

Tuesday, September 22, 2009

Does this look wrong to anyone else?



Please tell me I'm not the only one who thinks this toy is a teensy bit pornographic? I'm actually really surprised because I always figured Elmo for a power bottom.

Yeah, I know I'm a perv. So? All I know is that yesterday I was shuffling around in my bathrobe at 5:30 AM and I sat down to have some coffee in the living room when this toy caught my eye. I blinked and rubbed my eyes, but it was still there, and I swear I saw the mailbox wink at me suggestively.



Yeah, she likes it when you stick things in her slot, and she doesn't mind the occasional triangle, oval or star shape, either. She's kinky like that.

That's when I knew that I need to start getting more sleep, and that I need to avoid looking at things -- any things -- until I've had at least two cups of coffee.

Sunday, September 20, 2009

Bev Versus the Volcano

WARNING: This post contains no boobs and no booze. I've been accused of "going all introspective and philosophical" on yo' asses, so be ye forewarned, and proceed at will!

(Happy, Kate? teehee)

One night when I was a teenager my parents had plans for the evening and I had the house to myself. This was a rare occurrence; my parents were the ultimate homebodies and didn't often stay out past 9 PM. I had no plans with my friends and was happy to have some alone time. Even then, I cherished a few hours of solitude and used those hours much the same way that I would use them now: by watching a movie and eating something crunchy and salty with a high fat content. Some things really don't ever change.

That night I had gone to the video rental store and picked up a movie starring Tom Hanks and Meg Ryan called Joe Versus The Volcano. I watched it all... and hated it. Really, really hated it. I thought it wasn't funny and was dull just plain stupid.

It wasn't until many years later that I watched the movie again and saw what the film makers were trying to achieve. Sure, it's ridiculous and the climactic scenes are completely absurd, but there is a much deeper and more poignant theme at work if you overlook the dumb stuff. There is symbolism - the recurring lightning bolt, the flower defying the odds by growing through the crack in the sidewalk only to be stepped upon by the masses, the brain cloud, the flickering and buzzing of the florescent light bulbs in Joe's office, the mixing of the cold, blue imagery of work with the warm reds of the tropics. The tropics themselves ultimately symbolize Joe's salvation. Even the fact that Meg Ryan portrays three separate but somehow interconnected characters is a commentary, of sorts.

What I never got before is the movie's message, and maybe I never saw it because I had not yet experienced the monotony of rising every morning and going to a job that is, quite literally, draining your soul. I couldn't know at age 16 that I too would someday discover that all of the body and head aches I feel while sitting at work will drop away like petals from a flower as I get in my car and drive away from the building. How could I know then that I would someday feel like I, too, have a brain cloud between the hours of 9-5?

One scene in particular stands out in my mind, in which Joe has his big epiphany. He is staring at the moon while stranded in the middle of the Pacific on a raft made out of his luggage, and he says, "I forgot how big it is."



Now, I know just what he meant. Every once in a while you find yourself looking at something in nature that makes you realize how huge it is, and how insignificant we are in comparison. You forget that there are planets, galaxies, and the unfathomable vastness of space out there. The day to day drudgery keeps us from seeing the forest for the trees, and if you're not careful it will bog you down to the point where you let your brain cloud overtake your life. You become a shoe-gazing pessimist who wallows in trouble and basks in misery.

I need to remember that my troubles are small and my joys are great. I need to be grateful for the love I've been given without questioning from where it comes or why. I need to remember that in the grand scheme of things, it is not about how much you get or do or achieve, it's about embodying and broadcasting love and gratitude. If you're not happy, change what's making you sad. If you're not fulfilled, find something that fills you to the brim. If you're complacent, do something that scares you.

I'm going to make a concerted effort to do just that, starting today. I promise.

Life is short, and maybe we are specks of cosmic dust on the shoe of a peasant in some other world, so grab some happiness and own your life.

So, you see, even silly movies can inspire deep(ish) thoughts. If you haven't seen it, give it a try, but don't come cryin' to the Bev when you think the whole orange soda thing is lame or don't laugh at the understated humor. I like it, I quote it, and I think I get it, but it's not for everyone.

Friday, September 18, 2009

Friday Fun

"'Cause it's Friday, and we ain't got shit to do!"

Ok, well, that's not entirely true. I always have shit to do, and since I'm at work, I do have to lift a finger here or there to get through my day. I think you all know to which finger I am referring.

Anywho, it has been a long, uninspired week for me. I've just been kind of blah, mentally, which is why I've been less than regular with my postings. However, it's Friday, and I want to play a game. How about another round of Smack, Marry, or Boink? Sound good? Good. Ok, here goes:

The men:
Simon Baker, Jake Gyllenhaal, and Will Smith. GO!




The Women:
Amy Adams, Katherine Heigl, and Jennifer Love Hewitt. GO!




Have fun, and T.G.I.F!

Tuesday, September 15, 2009

Dear Sadistic Pilates Instructor,

Listen, bitch, I hate you and your toned physique. Your shoulders are so muscular that you look like a dude, Serena Williams, and just because you CAN count to 10 then backwards to 1 again several times in a row without taking a breath does not mean that you SHOULD. Also, an hour is 60 minutes, not 70. Maybe next week you'll wrap it up when you notice the impatient aerobics class attendees peering through cupped palms at the glass doors, gawking at our sweaty, prone asses.

Oh, and one last thing: you SUCK. I want to punch you in the face.

See ya next week!

Sincerely,

The seal-like human flopping gamely around in the 2nd to last row. Well, the one wearing the purple top, that is.


~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~





Yes, folks, after many months of doing no more exercise than leisurely walking (to my car) and raising the TV remote, I decided that today would be a great day to hit the gym with a vengeance. Truth be told, I decided that last week was a great time to go back to the gym, but... let's just say that my gym bag decided to just take a nice ride in the car for a few days instead. I think it really enjoyed itself, and I gave myself points for even getting it packed up and into the car. Go, me!



I honestly thought about walking out of the class when I noticed that we'd only been crunching and reaching and balancing on our butt bones for 30 minutes and I was already sore and sweaty. When she started with the "planks," which are like Jack Palance one-armed army push-ups, I came close to blurting out, "Oh HELL NO," and slinking out the door. However, being in an all-mirrored room reminds you of why you are there in the first place, so I stuck with it.

I am happy to report that I made it through the entire class without crying.

Later, in the locker room, I attempted to collect my belongings and slither out the door before the stiffness overtook my limbs, but the (bitch slut whore!) instructor held court and said that we'd all start seeing "real body results in just 30 classes." THIRTY FUCKING CLASSES? 3-0? Goddamn it, woman! Lie to me and tell me it's three weeks to a hard body! Since I'm only planning on going to class once a week, that's a really long time to wait for results! Sonofa....

Anyway, now that the gym staff knows I'm not dead, I will try to go a few times a week. But I've said this before, and we all know how that worked out. I'll keep ya posted, though if I never mention the gym again, you'll know I've fallen off the wagon and am presently stuffing myself with wine and chips & salsa while watching Project Runway and criticizing those heifers they call models. That is exactly how I waddle.

Monday, September 14, 2009

This, that, and some other stuff

Well, hellllooooooooo, dearies. How is everyone on this fine Monday morning? I'm pretty good. We have lots to talk about this morning, and it's all a hodge-podge of random subject matter, so hold on to your hats! Let's get right to it, shall we?

Today is my baby's birthday!

Today my youngest son turns two. Happy birthday, sweet boy! It seems like just yesterday that I was sweating through a summer pregnancy, and I cannot believe how much he has changed and grown over these past two years. He is such a sweet, lovable little boy! I adore him.

Because I enjoy making you all laugh, here's a pic of The Bev, hugely preggo. You don't have to say it; I realize that my boobs were enormous. What? I know you were thinking it.

Anyway, it's hard to believe that two years ago at this exact time, on a day just exactly like this one, I was holding a newborn infant in my arms. I feel so blessed and fortunate to have been given two beautiful, healthy children. They are worth every stretch mark and worry line! Remind me that I said that next time I want to kill one of them for pouring a full cup of milk into the sofa, ok? Thx.

Ok, moving on.

Who watched the VMAs last night? Raise your hands. Hey, you in the back -- both hands where I can see 'em! I admit it, I always watch this train wreck, and last night was no exception. I actually DVR'ed that mess so I could watch the True Blood season finale first (which was just kind of meh, IMO. Thoughts?).

Obviously, everybody's talking about that asshole Kanye West's latest publicity-seeking fuckery, and with good cause. My mouth was literally hanging open when he stole that little girl's moment in the sun, and I just cannot believe he has such cojones! I had no opinion about Taylor Swift before this happened; it's just not my kind of music, but she seems like a sweet and talented girl. I can't believe he crapped all over her like he did! I do think that Beyonce handled it well later in the show when she called Taylor back up on stage and gave her some time to say her thank-yous; she's a class act, that one.

You all know I love the Gaga, and she did not disappoint! OH MY - she brought the crazy! The outfits! The bleeding, and the entire bizarre performance! The random dancer in a wheelchair! W-T-F? I freakin' love it. LOVE IT. I will go see her when she does her U.S. tour, even though I hear she'll be touring with... duhn duhn duuuuuuuuhn, KANYE. (groooooooaaaaan)

Oh, and how amazing was Pink?! Not only did she do an entire acrobatic act, but she sang LIVE - no lip sinquing - and nailed every note. Amazing! She also managed to perform in a glorified pastie and we never once saw her nipple. I know, some of you (& me) were disappointed about that part, but get over it. She's an amazing athlete and performer, and she hates Kanye too, so she's A-ok in my book.

Speaking of lip sinquing, didya see Janet Jackson? Eesh. One word for you, Janet: RETIRE. That was baaaaad. Also bad? That bitch Madonna calling us all jerks for hating on Michael Jackson. "Witch hunt?" Puh-lease.

Ok, this post is already too long, so I'll get off my high horse.

Another OOBH milestone! Today when I logged into my dashboard, I saw that I have hit FIFTY friends/followers! WOW! Thank you & welcome to Nicolasa. Nice to meet you! I'm flattered, and I know it's kind of lame but I DO notice these things and it does make my day, so thank you.

Now, would the readers from Philadelphia, PA and Maple Shade, NJ please stand up? I seeeeeee you, and I want to know you too! Truth be told, I have relatives in both of those areas, so I'm curious if this is them quietly keeping tabs on me. Thanks in advance for coming out of the closet. You know I love ya already.

Finally, I'll leave you with some art work from my oldest son, who is currently obsessed with Star Wars and Batman. I'm fairly certain that we'll be getting a call from the school any day now about his "dark" drawings, but they look just fine to me. What do you think?



Yoda is my favorite part. Heeeeeee!

Ok, that'll do for now. Have a great day, everyone!
*muah*

Thursday, September 10, 2009

I'm not lovin' that!

Today there's an article floating around (har-de-har-har) online about how we greedy humans have almost depleted the supply of this charming little fishy, called a hoki. Hokis live in the deep waters off of New Zealand, and were thought to be quite plentiful until recently. Apparently, every time you've ever indulged in the greasy fried goodness known as the Filet O'Fish sandwich at McDonald's you've been eating one of these little buggers. Who knew?

"The hoki lives in inky darkness about a half-mile down and grows to more than four feet long, its body ending in a sinuous tail of great length. Large eyes give the fish a startled look."

Yum, right? As if I needed another reason to never eat at McD's.

In other fish news, did y'all hear about the sharks off of Cape Cod? Yes, folks, this is why I don't like swimming in the ocean. Everyone likes to say that our waters are too cold up here in the Nawth to get the big biting fishies, but guess what? Cape Cod is pretty mothafuckin' close. All of the beaches down in MA are closed and they've tagged at least 6 Great Whites this week, ranging in length from 6 to 15 feet. FIFTEEN FOOT SHARKS OFF THE COAST OF MA? Fuck that shit! I don't think I'll ever dip a toe in the Atlantic again!

Of course all of this shark talk makes me think of this:



which is probably better than thinking about this:



Sharks: they're scary as hell, even without frickin' laser beams attached to their frickin' heads.

That is all.

Wednesday, September 9, 2009

Me and Braggy McGee

I don't get braggarts. I've never understood what causes people to toot their own horns or try to one-up others in a conversation, and I've noticed that it starts really young. There's a kid up the street, and because of his multiple annoying qualities let's go ahead and call him Little Douchebag - LD. This kid is always bragging and lying to Danny, and he blatantly lies to all of us in the process. It's kind of funny, except that my kid actually buys his BS and I don't like how that makes him feel sometimes. One time LD came over and started spouting off about how he plays Rock Band on the expert level, which is total BS. I love the game, but only play on Medium difficulty - the Expert level is ridiculously hard!

So we just said, "Sure, ok LD, have at it." and watched as he got boo'ed off the stage over and over again within seconds of starting a song. Jim and I just stifled our smirks and asked if maybe he'd like to try a different level, and the little turd actually lied again and said that he was used to Guitar Hero (which is much better, in his opinion), so naturally it's our game which is at fault, and not his superior playing skills.

It's easy to see right through 'em, isn't it? I wonder if they know that we see that they're full of shit?

Jim seems to attract the boastful type to him like flies to honey. Perhaps it's because he is so confident and non-competitive that they feel the need to best him. IDK, all I know is that the worst tall-tale-tellers I've ever met have been acquaintances of my husband. His cousin B used to be the WORST for that. He spoke fast, like a coke head, which only added to his resemblance to Quentin Tarrantino. B loved to brag about himself and his accomplishments, which gets old about 90 seconds into a conversation.

Last weekend Jim went to Oregon for the wedding of an old college friend. A second wedding, as it turns out, since all of his college buddies are now moving on to their 2nd unions as they approach their 40's. Jim was really surprised when his friend T started yacking about his sex life with his new girlfriend, in vivid detail. This old friend T, whose wedding we went out of our way to attend in fraking Delaware just a few years ago, is newly single and dating a gymnast.

I'm sure you can see where this is going. Gymnasts are flexible. She is younger and they are enjoying the first blooms of romance, so they get it on like horny teenagers several times per day. The bastards. T apparently went into embarrassing detail about fantastic positions, frequency, and of course, tall tales of his own sexual prowess. He did his best to make his audience of college buddies believe that he is an epic and skilled lover who "opened the door and turned on the light" for his girlfriend, sexually. Yes, he actually used those words. *retch*



I was trying to think of something I might have been guilty of bragging about recently; aside from my glorious rack, that is. I'm sure I've bragged about my kids, but I reserve the right to do that whenever I feel like it. ;) Another thing I thought of was kind of bragging to myself, which I'm not sure counts. See, there's this radio program that I keep catching every morning after I get D on the bus - a caller has to answer 5 pop culture trivia questions and then the female DJ tries to answer the same questions. So far, no one has beat Kennedy the DJ, but I know the answers every day! I need to get that number and call in myself, because I'm convinced that I can beat Kennedy's smug ass.

Anywhooooo, thus ends my rant on bragging. We are all guilty of it from time to time, I'm sure. I'm not talking about the casual, recreational braggarts. I'm talking about the pros - the blowhards, the self-involved yahoos. Knock it off! It's unbecoming and narcissistic, and nobody buys it anyway.

I'm watching you....

Tuesday, September 8, 2009

Silence can be bought...

...in 5 minute increments. Turns out, $3.18 will buy you two small milkshakes at McDonald's, which in turn bought me 5 minutes of sweet, sweet silence this weekend.

I needed it.

I would have paid much more.

It was a good long weekend, but nothing to write home (or blog) about. On Saturday my mom came down from Vermont and she and I took the boys on a road trip to NY for a family function. It was actually ok, despite the fact that I drove 4 hours down there to spend 3 hours with the fam, then drove 4 hours back home to NH. Oy. It was nice to see everyone, though, and I was able to save the day with my omnipresent little Nikon when everyone assembled for our obligatory group shot and my cousin's camera wouldn't take the pic. I might as well keep my camera on a holster at my hip because I whipped it out and nailed the group shot on the first attempt, WITH a 30 lb. toddler on my hip, no less. WOOT! I rule.



This particular branch of the family is really religious and smart - it's like a PhD convention with extra Jesus. My mom's cousin has two PhDs and teaches religion at a college, and his wife is a Nuclear Physicist (we'll call her Nukey) who grew up in Japan because her parents were missionaries. She has 4 kids and homeschools them all until middle school. Yeah. Talking to her is awesome, though - she's very sweet but kind of socially awkward, and she has this full-body laugh that I freakin' LOVE. My sister and I had her going - she was laughing so hard and for so long that Debbie and I were just kind laughing and looking at each other with a "Can you believe this?" expression. Yeah, we're funny chicks, but... wow.

Of course, I had to constantly edit myself because my sense of humor runs toward the bawdy (maybe you've noticed?), so several times I had to bite my tongue. I'd look at my sister and wish we were telepathic because I HATE having something funny to say and not being able to say it. At one point Nukey was talking about taking three kids to Japan when they were ages 5, 3, and 1, and I came thisclose to blurting out, "There's not enough Xanax in the world for me to make that flight, even if I gave it to the kids!" But I managed to stop myself just in time. It was close.

Speaking of my sister, she gave me the green light to post some of her/our more embarrassing childhood photos, and I'm looking forward to doing so. I bought a new scanner this weekend and did a bunch of pretty funny pics, so those will be making an appearance here and there on the OOBH. Aw, heck, let's do one right now, shall we?



HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHA!!!!!!!!

I don't know what is funnier - Debbie's ruffled shirt and ribbon string tie, or my crooked bangs and apparent cold sore. Or the death grip she has on my shoulder. Or the blank expressions we're both sporting. Eh, screw it - it's all hilarious, IMO. Stay tuned for more awesomeness from the Vault in the coming days/weeks.

Ok, I've rambled on enough for one morning. Better get to work. Oh, who am I kidding? I just need to go because Lady GaGa is going to be on Ellen any minute now, and you know how I love the GaGa.

Thursday, September 3, 2009

A b-day shout-out, plus: it's not a tumah!

First things first. Today is a special day! It's Cary's birthday! YAY! I wouldn't even know many of you if it weren't for his hilarious blog, so I'm grateful to him for introducing us. Plus, he's just a righteous dude, am I right? (uh yeah, I'm right!) Courtney already got him a cake, so I'm gonna go ahead and send the stripper over on behalf of all of us, mkay? Don't worry - I put all of your names on the card, so you're covered.

Mr. TheDay, you're under arrest... for being AWESOME!

Seriously, happy birthday, buddy! Hope it's a great one.

I feel so weird today. First of all, I've been sitting here all day thinking, "Maybe I should make a blog post," but haven't had much to say, so I didn't bother. Not that having nothing to say has ever stopped me before, but today I was just more apathetic than usual.

So let me tell you about how weird I feel so you can laugh at me, 'cause that's fun for everyone!

I've got a headache, a neck ache, and a stomach ache. I honestly feel like I am both hungry and full right now, which is kinda freaking me out. My bod doesn't know whether it's coming (I wish!) or going (not that I do that).

I'm pretty sure I'm coming down with either Swine Flu or EEE, but no biggie. Ha ha. Hypochondriac? MOI? Eff you, dude. I grew up with one of those and I'm probably the furthest thing from being one as a result. I hope. (feeling glands)

In the olden days (approx. two years ago) I would have Googled my symptoms and convinced myself that I had Meningitis or some crap. I don't do that anymore because the last time something was wrong with a loved one, I went to Dr. Google and proceeded to work myself into a state of hysteria for a solid week. It turned out to be nothing, and I felt like a genius when all was said & done. Take my advice on that one - step away from the search engine when it comes to medical info!

Alrighty, I think I'm done complaining and shmoozing for the time being. Hope you're all having a lovely day. Especially you, B-day boy!

Tuesday, September 1, 2009

Truthful Tuesday

Two questions! I'll ask, you answer. Heck, I'll answer them too because I'm cool like 'dat, and because it's Truthful Tuesday and I've taken my dose of Veritaserum*.

1. What's the cheesiest, most embarrassing movie that you secretly (or not-so-secretly) love?

For me, it's Under the Tuscan Sun.

"While on vacation, a just-divorced writer buys a villa in Tuscany on a whim, hoping it will be the start of a change for the better in her life."

*sigh* It's just a fun movie in which a beautiful but sad divorcee (played by the ageless Diane Lane) moves to Italy in an effort to get her groove back. I love everything about this movie. It's smart, funny, poignant, and even has a soupcon of culture.

2. Have you ever stolen anything? I promise not to report you. Ok, let's assume we've all stolen something. What was the first thing you ever stole, and why?

The first time I ever stole anything was by accident. No, really! I was probably 8 years old and my family had just gone out to dinner at a place called The Happy Hour. My dad was paying at the counter, and there was a bowl full of free mints next to an open box of cigars. Being eight, and evidently a little clueless, I deduced that the cigars must be free as well, since they were next to the mints. So I took one, but I was stealthy about it.

Why did I take it, and why was I so sneaky about it?

Because I thought it would be hilarious to pop up from the back seat of our car with a cigar in my mouth and say, "Hey! Anybody got a light?"

Which is exactly what I did when we got back in the car. Only instead of expressions of amused delight from my parents and sister, I got looks of shock and supreme irritation. Well, that's not entirely true - my older sister was laughing her ass off, if I remember correctly. Anyway, it was then that my parents explained that no, the cigars were not free, and yes, I had to trot my butt back into the restaurant, apologize for being a filthy cigar-thieving brat, and give it back. In a sort of sublime twist of fate, they made my sister go in with me. Heh.

There it is. Please tell me your answers, and be TRUTHFUL!

* Shameless nerdy Harry Potter reference. Sorry.