The Gonad Game & The Viagra Tie
For almost ten years now, a group of us have gotten together at the holidays for a white elephant gift exchange. Over the years, several gifts have made it through the rotation year after year, and never fail to get some laughs. But the gift that keeps on giving has always been The Gonad Game.While I'd like to take credit for this game myself, I must admit that the original conception began circa 1993 in a dorm room at Cincinnati Bible College. My hubby and his roommate, "Kid Joe", had a plush . . .
Why I Hate My Husband
Grrr.My husband just came back from the gym. He hasn't been to the gym in, like, years. Remember how before I got crazy sickly pregnant, I was trying to run every day? And I was working my butt off, running even twice a day sometimes, trying to work my way up to three miles a day? And how it took me like a month to get to that point, and yet I was still sore and hurting and no where near a ten minute mile . . .Yeah. So.My husband goes to the gym tonight, runs three miles in less than thirty . . .
Everything’s Amazing, Nobody’s Happy
I just love this little commentary on the entitlement of our generation. Too funny, and too true. . . .
Fashionista, I’m Not
You know you are getting old when you get the new Urban Outfitters catalog in the mail, and instead of drooling over the clothes, this is your stream of consciousness:"Really? People wear this stuff? Are they trying to be ironic with these clothes? Who pairs a flannel over a satin dress? Why are these models slouching so much? Why dont't they wear bras? And stand up straight? And eat something? There is nothing in here I would wear. Even if I was super skinny. I wonder if The Gap is having a . . .
Analytics
I have a little program that tells me what people searched for before they came to my blog. It's always interesting to see what you folks are googling that lands you here.To those of you who googled "haiti + adoption": welcome! Are you adopting too? Are you thinking about it? If you have any questions about the process, I will tell you everything I know about the process in Haiti. Which will probably change within the hour.To those of you who googled "kristen + howerton": Hello. How do we . . .
I Don’t Miss This
This is the injection my husband had to give me EVERY NIGHT of my first trimester. I am just fine with this pain in my rear being over and done with. . . .
Act Like You’re Kind of a Big Deal
A group of us got together for a big night on the town last week, to see Martin Sexton at the House of Blues. The HOB in Hollywood has a "secret area" backstage called the Foundation Room. It's a members-only room, reserved for backstage cavorting and celebrity elbow-rubbing. So of course, we all wanted to get in to the Foundation Room. I mean, if we're all paying for sitters, go big or go home, right? Mark and I have been lucky enough to be back there a few times before, back in the day when . . .
My Day So Far
It's only 2pm, and wow, it's been a doozy so far.This morning starting with both kids waking up early. Insanely early. My solution to this was to put on Sesame Street, give them both a smoothie, and go back to bed. Responsible parenthood at its finest. I thought I would just doze for a few minutes, but I awoke to India (my alomst-2-wear-old) screaming at Jafta because he turned off the tv during the ending credits to Sesame Street. This was my first indication that I was in trouble. Sesame . . .
Running on Empty
A few weeks ago I posted about how I am trying to run/jog/limp at least 2 miles every day. So far, I have been pretty consistent with this, but pregnancy is putting a serious damper on things.For one, I am about as tired as humanly possible while still being awake. Have you ever watched Intervention, or Trainspotting, or Paula Abdul, and seen how a junkie looks after a hit? It's that eyes-half-closed, mumbly, incoherent, semi-concious state, where just completing a sentence is a whole lot of . . .
Forever 21, Why Do You Hate Me?
Dear Sir ('cause I know a woman would not be behind this): I have an issue with the sizing at your store. I know, I know. The name of your store should be a warning. I'm not 21 - not even close. I know that my needs could be better met in a store called "Forever Mid-Thirties". Or "Despereately Clinging to My Youth". But still, your budget prices and sassy fashions beckon me in again and again.During my last visit to your store, I found an adorable asian-print dress that would be a great number . . .
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