Another one of my favorite traditions is shopping in Columbus with my Mom. As avid shoppers, we do it this time every year. It's a nice mother-daughter tradition to throw ourselves in with the not-quite last-minute crazies. Perhaps that makes us crazies too? And somehow we always manage to go to Easton (the outdoor mall) on thee coldest day of the year. We'll be there on Monday, I haven't seen the forecast but I'm guessing it'll be 15 degrees and snowy.
But I wouldn't have it any other way.
- We saw the Twilight movie. I didn't love it. It counted on you knowing the book (which I've read) and I thought it moved too fast through some of the scenes without giving enough substance to them. I also didn't appreciate the teenagers in the theater. The kid sitting behind us actually took a phone call in the middle of the movie and was loudly explaining to his friend how his girlfriend thought he was cheating on her and how she ruined their anniversary because of it. Although, I'm pretty sure he was getting 'serviced' later on. So I guess they made up.
- Got our Christmas tree! And we put it up last night. I love that smell SO MUCH! I could sit in front of it all day and sniff it. There's just no replacement for that smell. Those silly poser air fresheners don't even come close.
- I'm finding it very difficult to concentrate lately. I've been ignoring my alarm - it goes off about 8 times (no joke) - and waking up late almost every day. My day usually starts with me saying, "Oh shit, it's 7:40!". I've just been out of it. And too tired to care. (Hence the bullet points.) Not sure what the deal is?
- I'm taking an exercise class twice a week. It's called Total Body Conditioning or something like that. What it should be called is, "You're really out of shape Michelle and should be totally embarrassed. Now do 20 more squats!" But I'm really enjoying it. There's only one other lady in the class so it's like I have my own personal trainer.
- I got my hair cut yesterday. I was feeling adventurous and thought that cutting bangs would be wacky fun... turns out, it wasn't. I look ridiculous. Even more so because I will be spending the next 3 weeks pushing the hair out of my eyes until they grow out. I left the salon looking like a 40-year-old soccer mom instead of 30-year-old woman with no kids who knows very little about soccer. Stupid, stupid, stupid. We're supposed to have photos taken on Saturday. Why I chose to make this huge decision before photo day takes me back to fourth grade Perms Gone Bad photos. I haven't learned a thing.
- Jay Leno is a pompous ass. I cannot believe he is doing a show at 10 p.m. before Conan when Conan assumes the Late Night spot next year. Conan has waited 5 years for this and now he's still following behind him. Conan has earned the right to prove himself, he doesn't need you to be his lead-in. Although he's not allowed to say it, I bet he is pissed. I am.
- On a more serious note, my sister-in-law is having the worst 2008. She's the type that is always laughing, always having a good time, so it's really hard to hear that she's sad and not herself. I'm sure she would appreciate a kind thought.
I am thankful for so many things, it brings tears to my eyes to think about them. So I am thankful for Thanksgiving, because it's a day to reflect on just how lucky I am.
(I think we can all be thankful for the low gas prices this year, especially those of us who are traveling. Safe travels everyone!)
I'm convinced that there isn't a lotion out there that will help. Sure there are some decent ones on the market, but they all seem to be dirt magnets. Within hours, I feel like every particle of dirt floating around the atmosphere has attached itself to the lotion on my hands. So I go and wash them, thus removing the lotion and putting me right back where I started. In pain. It's a disappointing cycle, so I usually just suffer in silence. I'm quite the martyr.
What's even more unfair is that my husband has hands like babies' butts. They are quite possibly the softest hands in all of North America. Definitely softer than 99.9% of men and probably softer than 95% of women. And that's without a lick of lotion! I don't get it.
So those hands that you see modeling beautiful jewelry in magazines or perfectly pointing out products on the Price is Right, ain't mine.
Perhaps she asked me because I'm the only member of my Mom's side of the family to graduate from a four-year school? (Although her older sister will be graduating from one next semester. It's taken her a little longer than most, but that's cool, she's finishing, that's all that matters.) Perhaps she asked me because she thinks I have done ok in life? I don't exactly know, but I think she thought twice about asking me when I encouraged her to look into gerontology.
My reasons are this: She has always been great with my grandma. When sometimes, my cousins and I feel uncomfortable around her because she's getting older and more fraille and harder to talk to, this cousin will call her on the phone or sit by her on the couch and chat about how things are going. She's the same way with my great aunt who is around 85. She just has that gift. And I don't think many people do. Plus, she loves History, so she likes old things.
I'm pretty sure it was a less sexy suggestion than she was looking for, but I truly believe she would be good at it. At a family gathering last night, she asked me if I had given any more thought to what I think she should do. I again pushed my agenda and we got out the laptop so I could prove to her that gerontology is more than your general nursing home unpleasantries. She didn't seem any more convinced. We looked at a few other options of which she would probably be good at, but I can just see her doing this. I want her to do it.
She asked for it. And I'm not giving up!
From a PEOPLE magazine (I know, the preeminent source for all political news) article with Carrie Underwood.
"There is someone I do support, but I don't support publicly," the country star tells TV Guide in its Nov. 10 issue.
And she thinks other stars should keep their lips zipped on their political picks: "I lose all respect for celebrities when they back a candidate." Underwood says voters should make up their own minds. "It's saying that the American public isn't smart enough to make their own decisions," she says. "I would never want anybody to vote for anything or anybody just because I told them to."
Issue 88. Do you support the efforts of celebrities to push their political views and agendas in any medium they deem necessary (i.e. movies, interviews about movies, interviews about television shows, newspaper ads, newspaper articles, fundraising telethons, Wednesday afternoons) to the lowly general public?
A vote YES will allow celebrities to remind you that you are a poor Nobody with little to no political prowess who is simply voting the way they vote because you like their movies or their fashion sense.
A vote NO will allow you to continue to make up your own mind by doing your own research and figuring out what you believe in and ultimately reminding celebrities that their political affiliation means bupkus in your voting behavior.
What say you?
This almost makes me rethink my stance on Halloween. If everyone had to wear this costume, then I'd be down. She isn't trying to scare me or take all of my candy, she just wants the world to enjoy her cuteness.
Personally I find the caterpillars on the leaves a bit frightening. What's with the big smiles? What are they so happy about? Clearly they are on drugs and are not to be trusted.
Here's to hoping you all are more creative with your costumes this year.
I will be in my house. With the doors locked. With the outside lights off and all of the inside lights ON, watching happy movies that won't make me pee my pants or wake up my husband every 6 seconds because I think someone is standing in the bedroom doorway with a meat clever waiting to steal me and throw me into a well in their basement with my dog and feeding me by sending food down in a bucket, with lotion too, eventually hoping to skin me and then wear it. All while wearing a dress and lipstick and tucking things in certain places.
But I hope you all enjoy the day!
I need to get out of this place (my head). Perhaps it's time for another vacation?
I struggle with what to write here today. Not because I have nothing to say but because I'm afraid of not truly conveying my feelings.
So let me say this... I am so happy that I married you 366 days ago. You have given me the life that I always hoped I would have. I wanted a partner who I loved even though things aren't always happy. I wanted someone who had goals in life, someone who made me feel special and needed, someone who I could learn from, someone who enjoyed doing things and traveling, and someone who I could just "be" with. I had pretty much given up on finding that person. I was pretty sure you didn't exist. And since I love being dramatic, I had resigned myself to the fact that I was going to live the rest of my life alone. But I am so proud to say that you are all of those things I mentioned above and I no longer have to worry about being alone. I have found my partner. And you're even better than I imagined.
Our first (married) year together has flown by in one fantastic blur. I simply cannot believe it. If this is what the beginning of our lives is like, what are the next 70 years going to be like? I'm not sure, but I cannot wait to find out! It's fun and exciting, yet at times, stressful and annoying. But thank God, it will be with YOU.
We are very lucky. And there isn't a day that goes by where I don't realize that. I am so thankful for everything we have, but most importantly I am thankful for you and the person you are. This day every year will be a reminder to us of just how blessed we are and everday in between will be another wonderful memory in our lives.
I love you with all my heart.
Before you ask "WHERE?!" or "Wow, Mickey D, great job spending $500 at Giant Eagle to save .76 cents on tanks of gas!" or "You have enviable talent for sniffing out a great deal!", let me first tell you how I was able to accomplish this seemingly impossible feat...
I only needed .7 gallons to fill up my tank.
The husband told me about the cheap gas on the corner and that I should go now because there was a risk of the Dow going up or down or sideways and that gas prices were thought to be going up. So I went. I guess I should have looked at my gas tank first to see if I even needed gas. Instead I operated on panic and fear. And for that I am ashamed.
It was embarrassing to get out of my car, run my credit card through, open the gas tank (twice, because the first time it slipped out of my hand and shut itself so I had to go back to hit the button again), select my grade, put the pump in and stand there for the whole 1.8 seconds it took to fill up my tank. I gave an apologetic wave to the person waiting for my pump and slunk back into my car. I'm sure there were plenty of fellow gas station patrons who witnessed this event (the place was packed) and are now sharing it with their friends and families and laughing at what a paranoid freak the girl in the black Jetta is.
Before you assume any untruths about me, no, I'm not one of the crazies who runs to the supermarket when the weatherman indicates a snowflake is on its way, this was an isolated incident. One that I am not proud of but one that I have learned a valuable lesson from...
Gas prices suck. Someone, ANYONE, needs to do something about it. The mere mention of cheap gas was enough for me to abandon my critical thinking process. I'm turning into a robot. A scared, hoarding, mindless robot driven by societal fears and paranoias. A slave to the economy's bottom line. A product of this country's most detrimental characteristics.
Or maybe just someone who needs to pay closer attention to what they're doing.
Either way, life seemed a lot simpler when gas was only $1.00 a gallon. That's all I'm saying.
Photos shot using the finest underwater disposable camera one can buy at the local Cayman grocery store.
Actually, this one was spotted "in the wild" when we were snorkeling before we got to Stingray City. So dangerous! MD sacrified his life to get this photo. Only not so much.
See, she was kissing them. It was kinda odd, I was a little uncomfortable. But they seemed to enjoy it.
It really is a nice place to visit. We were told there is no unemployment on the island and no crime. The cops don't even carry guns. So it's a very safe place to travel with a family. Although, if you're traveling with a family, you better have bank because stuff ain't cheap there. We had to pay for electricity for the week. Nothing is made there, except for Cay Brew beer and rum cake (and probably some babies), everything else is imported. Including Cuban cigars. And most prices are in Cayman dollars, so since our dollar is for shit, the cost in American dollars is always more.
There isn't much to "do" there per se, but one thing you simply must do if you ever visit is to swim with the stingrays at Stingray City. They take you to a sand bar in the middle of the ocean and let you swim with the dozens and dozens of (friendly) stingrays of all different sizes. They even let you "hold" them. (We have photos, but we need to get them developed.) They are very soft and rubbery on the bottom and feel like sandpaper on the top. I admit, I was a little freaked at first. They feel weird and they kill people, so I had to talk myself into it. But after seeing the guide girl literally make out with them (not kidding, she was kissing them on the mouth), I figured it was safe. It's definitely not something you do every day, it was very, very cool.
We did some shopping, eating, laying out and drinking at the swim-up bar, which is the perfect vacation as far as I'm concerned. We didn't see any famous people, but I hope the following photos will suffice...
Our condo. The Grand Morritt's Resort.
An overview of the condo grounds. We ate at the restaurant in the middle of the photo 3 times. It was pretty yummy. And close by.
The pool. With swim-up bar.
Our very own beach hut.
Downtown Georgetown. With pirate ship.
Me being a tourist outside the Hard Rock.
It rained the last full day we were there and the day we left. And the forecast for the following week didn't look too favorable, so we got out at the right time. I guess we should expect this seeing as how we were traveling at the end of hurricane season. I still managed to come away with remnants of a tan. Actually it was the first time in my life that I didn't fry myself to allow it to "turn into tan". No one said to me, "Wow, you got some sun!"I got increasingly brown. I guess suntan lotion does have a purpose. It took me 30 years to learn that little nugget of info.
I got my now-traditional vacation bikini wax the other day (still $30, woohoo!) and my waxer was telling me all about her recent trip to Grand Cayman. In between ripping the hair folicles out of my unmentionable area, she was telling me all the fun things to do and good places to go and even though I was in a compromising position and in uncomfortable pain, I got excited. An interesting dichotomy to say the least! I was excited before but it's always nice to get those reassuring positive comments from a total stranger who's pouring hot wax on you, you know?
If we see any famous people, I promise to take plenty of photos of the back of their heads to share with you all.
Again this year, the Juvenile Diabetes Research Foundation is holding a Walk to Cure Diabetes on October 4th. Please visit his blog to learn more about Diabetes and how you can help work toward a cure that is within reach.
With much gratitude,
A. Because he points out when the girls in Playboy have smaller breasts than me to make me feel better about my chestial shortcomings.
And quite honestly, I appreciate that.
*I'm sure you understand why there is no photo with this post. If you need a visual, pick up the latest edition of Playboy. I'm much bigger than that.
However, I'm about 7 inches taller than she is. So I've got her on that one.
It was video captured by people who were in the vacinity of the World Trade Center on September 11. There was no host and no script. It showed the 102-minute time period between the first plane hitting the first tower and the eventual collapse of the two buildings through eye witnesses and news channel footage. It was people with their personal, handheld video cameras watching the events unfold from their apartments complete with their raw emotion and reactions as well as real-time interviews with people on the street as they watched everything take place.
I'm not certain I could fully articulate how I felt watching this. Certainly not well enough to do myself justice. I experienced every human emotion possible - from anger, confusion, outrage, sadness and fear to pride in our fellow Americans who were reaching out to help perfect strangers and sheer amazement at the bravery shown by the members of the police, fire and EMS departments. At times, I was almost sick.
I have watched everything I can about this day. I was one of those people who, in the days following the attacks, watched the news coverage everyday until 4 in the morning, waiting to see if something else would happen and struggling to see if someone would give an explanation as to why this happened. Even now, if I see there is a special on the architecture of the twin towers or something, I will watch. I simply cannot read, watch or learn enough about it. But this documentary was unlike anything I've ever seen. It's cliche to say that I felt like I was there, but I really did. It was incredible and horrific.
I'm sure most people can't see these things any longer because it is emotionally exhausting and painfully difficult to watch and that's completely understandable. But I have to. It's my way of making sure that I REMEMBER. Even though I remember every detail about the day from my experience, it's important to me that I remember that some people weren't lucky enough to be sitting in the Toledo Zoo marketing department watching the events on television. They were there, they had friends and family members who were there, they have children to whom they've had to try and explain why those buildings aren't there anymore and if they want to share their stories because its helps them to feel better, then I will listen. And watch. And cry.
But then I clicked and saw your profiles and I was all, "Oh fun, that's that blogger girl and that blogger girl! I have 4 instant friends who didn't attend my high school or even live in my city! LOVE it!"
Just so you 4 know, you have been officially added as my friends. Welcome!
I'm still new to this phenomenon. I was a lame Myspace participant, which I may subsequently close. I checked that thing like every 6 months, and there is no way I can maintain two social networks. This dance card is full. And I hear Facebook is way cooler. And I always did hang with the cool crowd...
I wore these jeans every time I painted a room in the house. You can see all the many colors I experimented with. Last night I realized that the only walls I did not paint were in a small hallway. The only thank you I can say to the people who owned the house before me is, thank you for not having wallpaper anywhere. Every wall was white, a veritable blank canvas for me to go nuts and paint every wall a color that no one but me would probably ever like.
This is the master closet. This room looked absolutely nothing like this when I bought the house. It had insulation everywhere and there were no walls. We hung drywall, got carpet, had recessed lighting installed and painted. My husband was kind enough to finish the trim around the door and window. This, by far, was my favorite before and after. What a difference. This is where I had all my clothes and my vanity. You can't tell too well, but the walls were a light green. Love it!
The master bedroom. The house is a story and a half. So I made this area my bedroom. Painted walls, pulled up carpeting, painting the railings. Track lighting was already there.
Another pic of the master bedroom. Those white doors are closet doors. This house had tons of storage for being built in 1942. This side is where I had my lounging chair and lamp for reading. I think I read there one time. But it looked fabulous!
This is where I tried to get creative. In one of the downstairs bedrooms. The wall was brown with this light blue square. Fancy, eh?
Another bedroom. This one had little pink bunnies at the top. I didn't care for them so I painted this room orange.
The bathroom. I painted the cabinet and mirror black, the walls periwinkle and got a new toilet. I, for one, think it's tres cute.
Another shot of the dining room. Check out that curvature of the walls and coved ceilings. Try finding that in a new house these days. (I didn't take a photo of the living room because it had crap it in still, but it was the tan color you see in the alcove. It complemented the dining room nicely.)
My red kitchen. Second favorite room in the house. I absolutely love the way it turned out. My Mom did a fantastic job standing on the counters to paint above the cabinets. I couldn't have done it. White cabinets, white appliances, Pergo flooring (already there).
Well, according to our realtor, as long as the guy doesn't get hit by a bus, the HOUSE.IS.SOLD. I'd like to make a personal request to the buyer that he stay inside for the next week to avoid any such awful occurence. I hope that's not selfish of me.
I simply cannot believe it. What an enormous weight this is off of our shoulders. We will finally be a one-mortgage family!*
Closing will be next Friday. And I must admit it will be a bittersweet day for me. I bought it with the intention of living there for no more than 7 years, which is why I got a 7-year balloon, so I knew it wasn't my lifelong home. But it was MY home. I bought it, I decorated it, I mowed the lawn and planted flowers and pulled weeds, I painted it, I loved it, I cursed it, I was proud of it. So it will be a sad goodbye, tears will be shed. No doubt about it.
But I am happy that we are moving forward and won't have the burden of our 'summer home' to worry about. And my Dad can retire as lawn boy since he was gracious enough to take over after I moved out. It'll be nice to live our life in the home we are currently creating and possibly have a little more freedom to do so. And we'll get to buy that pair of jeans I've been wanting.
So thank you all for your well wishes, prayers and happy thoughts, they were very much appreciated. Now, let's celebrate!
*At least until we buy that timeshare in Hawaii that we really wanted.
This part is grueling. It seems so close, but there is still a possibility it could all be so far away. These pins and needles that we are waiting on are starting to hurt my feet.
Now, we just wait for the almighty bank to come and appraise and do their inspection in the next couple of days.
I'm not relaxing just yet. I guess almost two years of worrying about selling the house doesn't magically go away after a couple of weeks. And I'm not exactly Easy-going Eileen on a good day.
So, let's keep our fingers crossed for a couple more weeks, shall we? Thank you.
In case you don't have a sense of humor and don't pay attention to things that are funny, the woman in the center of this photo is Chelsea Handler. As part of my birthday present, MD got me tickets to her show (her stand-up, not the one on E!) last Saturday. We also got the distinct pleasure of meeting her at a book signing at Barnes and Noble beforehand, as depicted above.
I would admit that Chelsea's humor isn't for everyone. She can be crass and inappropriate at times, but let me tell you, she was incredibly gracious. She did this book signing and spoke to everyone beforehand saying that she appreciated everyone coming out and buying the book and that she would stay as long as it took to get everyone's book signed. She also offered to stay after the show that evening and sign autographs. Most people would have gotten off that stage as quickly as possible and onto their fancy planes and would have told Rochester Hills, Michigan to kiss off. So you have to give her credit for that.
She was so fun to see in person. She's just hilarious and has such a natural delivery. It didn't feel like she was doing a "bit". I enjoy that. I'm a fan.
It's been on the market since January 2007. That's 20 long, frustrating, maddening, disappointing, painful, sad, upsetting, hopeless months. I didn't even have one offer since it's been up for sale. And yes, we even buried the St. Joseph statue in the backyard. My dad was Catholic once so he presided over the burial to keep it legit. Then Mark, our third realtor, on a mission from Above, came down on a cloud carried by angels and sold the house in 10 days. (Pending, of course.)
What's ironic about this house is that it's initially one of the things my husband found attractive about me before we met. The fact that I was able to buy it on my own and live on my own was a major plus. A few months ago I asked him if it was still attractive to him that I had a house. He said no.
And it's all been too much fun.
My husband likes to say that we should have experiences, not things. I'd say we've accomplished that quite nicely.
And, as a special bonus, it was dollar hot dog night! Opportunities like this don't come around very often.
As a longtime hot dog connoisseur, it's no secret that I find ballpark hot dogs to be spectacular summer cuisine. I had a goal of eating 5 hot dogs but I fell one short. I consumed a disappointing 4. A letdown to my husband and Kobayashi, the world-famous-hot-dog-devouring champion. I probably could have eaten 5, but I wasn't willing to dip my bun in water to do so. I consider it a feat nonetheless. I'm usually good for one hot dog, but when $1 dogs are presented, I simply must take advantage.
There were some 42,265 hot dogs consumed at the ballpark last night. 9 of those by the MD family from Toledo. Impressive, I say. Even more impressive is my husband consuming a hot dog in one bite. Yep, we are quite the impressive couple. Some circles might even call us classy.
So imagine my dismay when I read that Eva Longoria chopped her hair off as to appear frumpy for the upcoming season of Desperate Housewives. Hang on just a second, pal. Since when does short hair = frumpy? I thought short hair = short hair. Or as something to try when you get bored and are looking for a dramatic change. Or because you're freakin hot in the middle of summer and can't take it anymore. Do people go into salons looking to be frumpier? "Eh, I'm feeling too fancy these days, let's cut it all off." Is cutting your hair the new "gain 85 pounds and wear ugly makeup in the hopes of winning an Oscar"?
Ugh. Someone get her PR rep on the horn, I'd like to fill out a comment form.
Nora is a superhero because she single-handedly made me a dog person. Prior to meeting her, I didn't much care for them. But this little punkin has changed my mind forever. Of little dogs, anyway. I'm still searching deep within to love big dogs.
Wherever there is danger of someone not liking dogs, she will be there. She'll even drive herself there.
Until I married your uncle, I didn't know what a big family was like. But it didn't take long to figure it out. Big families are amazing. And loud. And this one is pretty great. And your parents are two of my favorite people that I've ever met, and I'd say that even if we weren't related. You are lucky. They are funny and sweet and loving and they know how to have fun. Your dad makes awesome homemade biscuits and your mom is the easiest person in the world to get along with. And they really love each other. Plus, you get to live near Chicago and your mom can navigate those streets and the train system with the best of them. Make her take you there often. And slyly say, "maybe Aunt Michelle would like to go shopping downtown with us? Let's call her to visit." I'll be on the next Megabus.
You and I are the newest members of the D family. So I promise to show you the ropes and I will try not to exert my seniority over you as much as possible. But the minute one of your cousins brushes your hair over mine, I'm gonna have to pull rank and shut you down. Perhaps, you'll be able to do that to your brother or sister or my kids someday, but that is all. I am exactly 30 years and one month older than you, let's not forget that... um, maybe we should forget that... I am exactly 25 years and one month older than you. That's what you will tell people.
You have made your parents very happy already. Your uncle and I cannot wait to meet you and see what a lovely little family the three of you are. I'm sorry, the four of you. I'm sure Lucy can't wait to meet you either. She's heard a lot about you these last nine months, and she wants to know what all the hype is about.
Thank you for allowing me to see what it's like to become an "official" aunt. I've enjoyed it immensely. To steal a phrase from my good friend K, who is an old pro at being an aunt, I am happy you were born.
I cannot wait to meet her!
Name update: Therese Marian. Tess for short.
Ooh, Tiny you were so close on the date. But not the gender. Good guess.
And this comes almost a year to the day after we were on tv sitting in the front row at the Late Show. That's pretty incredible. Next stop, Hollywood.
49. Having the whole bar get quiet when my college friends and I would loudly sing "Like a Prayer" nearly every weekend.
48. Calling everyone we know telling them about our engagement. And the way his brother made me cry. And seeing MD cry because I was crying.
47. Waiting with Sarah for two hours to touch a dolphin at the dolphin pool at Sea World.
46. Watching the Wizard of Oz every year with my dad, cousin and uncle. My cousin and I would always leave the room when the Wicked Witch of the West was on. And we would beg my uncle to do his spot-on impression of the Lion.
45. The first time I got flowers at work.
44. Having the cool mom who always made blue Kool-aid for our summer softball games and always had the new, fun snacks.
43. Seeing Jerry Seinfeld. Twice.
42. My Slip 'n Slide in our backyard.
41. The hot dogs at Tigers games.
40. Playing the piano every Christmas. The same 10 songs.
39. The Hoopla dance my cousin and I made up and always performed for the whole family.
37. Asking my parents to move their cars out of the garage so I could roller skate on the smooth surface while listening to all the great 80's music.
36. The smell of Fall in Northwest Ohio.
35. The matron of honor and best men speeches at our wedding.
34. Chicago, New York City, Boston, Denver and the feeling I get when being in a big city.
33. Being invited to the Young Writer's Workshop in third grade.
32. Sarah and I laughing about nothing for hours.
31. My first taste of Pinot Grigio on my 23rd birthday.
30. The home movies from when I was a baby that my dad had converted onto dvd. (They were old projector film that we used to watch on a large pull-out screen in our living room.)
29. My fantastic 30th birthday parties and all the love that went into planning them.
28. Learning to ride my pink Huffy bike without training wheels. My dad letting go without me knowing it and hearing him yell excitedly, "You're doing it, you're doing it!" as I got further and further away.
27. Picking my lip.
26. The day I won 4 tickets to the Late Show with David Letterman.
My list 74-50.
My list 100-75.
Here's what I predict:
The baby will be born on JULY 18 and it will be a BOY.
If you think you're a good guesser too, feel free to play along. I'd love to hear people's thoughts on the pregnancy of a woman they don't know of a baby they'll never meet.
- Hannah Montana is for 4 or 5 year olds. Certainly NOT for 12 year olds.
- 12-year-olds love to read. And they like big, thick books. Even non-Harry Potter books.
- Cell phones must have a texting plan.
- Even tweens love shoes and shoe shopping.
- Tweens are more "developed" than 30 year-olds nowadays. (Which doesn't take much, let's be clear. But, boy, what a depressing realization. Most of my week will be spent stuffing to make sure everyone knows I'm the adult.)
- 12-year-olds really are aware of what's going on. They aren't stupid.
- They also don't mind being told to 'shut up'. We didn't tell her to shut up, of course, but she said we could if we thought she was talking too much. (What a different world this would be if only that offer applied to everyone.)
I think I will totally learn more from her than she will from me.
I thank you and curse you all for being so entertaining.
(I'm totally going to run through my list now. Do not disappoint me.)
strawberry pop tarts!!!!
pancakes (walmart has some already made in the freezer section) They are good!
bagels and cream cheese
She knows how to cook and use a stove
frozen Jack's pizza
deli sliced turkey meat to make sandwiches Walmart- Sun Dried Tomato turkey breast
chips- Cool ranch Doritos, honey BBQ frito, chili chees fritos
hot dogs & Mac-n-cheese
chicken & noodle soup
tomato soup with grilled cheese sandwich
frozen grapes -red
milk skim milk (she says Deans)
chocolate milk made with choc syrup
kool Aid-Cherry or lemonade
Ah yes, we should get along famously. I'm pretty sure 90% of these things are in our pantry right this very moment. This will be a piece of cake. Of pancake, that is. The frozen kind. From Wal-mart.