I'm pretty sure Sophie could do that.
Easier Done Than Said: Attempts at blogging by a girl who doesn't like writing.
Sunday, April 25, 2010
Girl's Best Friend
Um, I love dogs. My adorable, wonderful Deedee got me through so stinkin' much before the cancer took her:
And after her came Sophie, the little puppy that I resented as a replacement of my fabulous three-legged shadow, but then made me laugh so much I can't imagine life without her:
And now there is Walter. Walter is my in-laws' Dalmatian, but I somehow merited an elevation to the position of "The Favorite." Not quite "Mom" but "Favorite." Probably because I didn't mind when he decided 80 lbs wasn't anywhere near the weight limit for Lap Dog. But who could not love a needy, epileptic, neurotic face like this one?
Yet yellow labs are still my favorite. Why? So many reasons. Here's one:
I'm pretty sure Sophie could do that.
I'm pretty sure Sophie could do that.
Thursday, April 22, 2010
Indiana Jones en route to Egypt
My husband, aka Indiana Jones, left for Egypt this morning. Therefore, I must make use of this blog. We left the house at 4:30 a.m. He's still flying. He'll get there about 4:30 a.m. (my time) tomorrow. Luckily, I get to make the same trip... but not for a few months. And since pictures make blogs more exciting, here's how I feel about getting up at 4 a.m., dropping off Indy, feeling like crap, and spending the rest of the day cleaning out our apartment before our lease officially runs out:
I worked pretty dang hard on being able to make that face. It was one of my finer accomplishments this year.
I worked pretty dang hard on being able to make that face. It was one of my finer accomplishments this year.
Saturday, August 15, 2009
Boring
My blog would probably be more interesting if my pictures were not on other people's computers.
Also if my body hadn't rebelled right after I finally got home.
Or if I would post anything about the cool trip I just came back from.
But since I'm sick, lazy, and slightly depressed at no longer being in Ireland, the blog's just gonna be boring for now.
Also if my body hadn't rebelled right after I finally got home.
Or if I would post anything about the cool trip I just came back from.
But since I'm sick, lazy, and slightly depressed at no longer being in Ireland, the blog's just gonna be boring for now.
Friday, July 24, 2009
Padme vs. Horsey & Gobs
Ever had an arch nemesis? I do.
Her name is Gobs.
Actually, that's just what she looks like. Every villain has some kind of distinct physical trademark. Maleficent had her horns, Cruella had black and white hair, and the Wicked Witch had green skin. Gobs has mascara. Lots and lots of mascara. To the point that I sincerely don't understand how she gets that much onto her lashes, let alone manages to keep her eyes open throughout the day. I think she mixes cornstarch into it.
Picture this: I live in my own room until hubbykins gets here in a matter of hours. However, for the last few weeks I have had NO one to talk to in the morning. Hence, the first thing I do is run to the other dorm where my two flute buddies reside, exhaust myself running up flights of stairs, and greet my friends with big smiles and laughs and girl jabbering, right?
Almost. Within my first few days of residence, Horsey engaged me for the first round of combat. (Horsey is Gob's sidekick, so named for the look of her face, or in truth, her teeth.) I had not quite made it up that first flight of stairs before I heard an annoying angry women yelling at me in French. It took me a minute to figure out all this hysteria was directed at me. After several rude, exaggerated gestures, I figured out that she wanted me to call the room before I went up. This woman is the lesser of the two evils. We continue to battle. Gobs won't even let me call and go up the stairs.
Now, every time I walk in and see Gobs, I hear the old western standoff whistle in the background and tumbleweeds blow by behind me. Unfortunately, not being able to speak comprehendible French leaves me totally unable to negotiate any kind of peace. Or even tell her off properly.
Nicole, in all her immense empathy, kindly drew a series of cartoons depicting my predicament as related to famous villains:
Her name is Gobs.
Actually, that's just what she looks like. Every villain has some kind of distinct physical trademark. Maleficent had her horns, Cruella had black and white hair, and the Wicked Witch had green skin. Gobs has mascara. Lots and lots of mascara. To the point that I sincerely don't understand how she gets that much onto her lashes, let alone manages to keep her eyes open throughout the day. I think she mixes cornstarch into it.
Picture this: I live in my own room until hubbykins gets here in a matter of hours. However, for the last few weeks I have had NO one to talk to in the morning. Hence, the first thing I do is run to the other dorm where my two flute buddies reside, exhaust myself running up flights of stairs, and greet my friends with big smiles and laughs and girl jabbering, right?
Almost. Within my first few days of residence, Horsey engaged me for the first round of combat. (Horsey is Gob's sidekick, so named for the look of her face, or in truth, her teeth.) I had not quite made it up that first flight of stairs before I heard an annoying angry women yelling at me in French. It took me a minute to figure out all this hysteria was directed at me. After several rude, exaggerated gestures, I figured out that she wanted me to call the room before I went up. This woman is the lesser of the two evils. We continue to battle. Gobs won't even let me call and go up the stairs.
Now, every time I walk in and see Gobs, I hear the old western standoff whistle in the background and tumbleweeds blow by behind me. Unfortunately, not being able to speak comprehendible French leaves me totally unable to negotiate any kind of peace. Or even tell her off properly.
Nicole, in all her immense empathy, kindly drew a series of cartoons depicting my predicament as related to famous villains:
Wednesday, July 22, 2009
If you give an Amber a cookie...
If you give an Amber a cookie, she will want something to drink.
If you give an Amber something to drink, it can't be water because most likely she won't like the taste of it. So you have to find juice or something. Then the combination will give Amber a sugar high.
When an Amber has a sugar high, she'll want you to go shopping with her.
An Amber out shopping means lots of distractions. She'll get lost and forget where she was going and you'll have to remind her where you were headed.
Once you've made it to the place you were planning to go, the Amber will find a shiny new outfit to try on.
When she has the new outfit on, the Amber will want to know what you think of it.
After you tell her how great it looks, the Amber will want to find a mirror so she can see for herself.
When the Amber looks in the mirror, a saleslady will come over and ask if everything is okay.
Amber will immediately make friends with the saleslady and start talking about everything they have in common.
They'll find out that they both wanted to go to the same concert that night and plan to meet up later.
Before the meet up later, the Amber will need to find some shoes to wear. She'll want your help with this.
While the Amber is trying on shoes, she'll realize she does not have any clean socks but she won't have enough socks to fill the washer, so she'll ask you if you have any to add.
Once the socks are all in the washer, the Amber will want to watch a movie to pass the time.
During the movie the Amber will get really tired from everything she's done and start to fall asleep.
When you wake up the Amber she won't know where she is, so you'll have to remind her.
Then she'll remember and she'll want to go get her socks.
The Amber will get her socks but on the way out of the laundry room she will see the vending machine and remember how tired she is...
And she will ask for another cookie.
If you give an Amber something to drink, it can't be water because most likely she won't like the taste of it. So you have to find juice or something. Then the combination will give Amber a sugar high.
When an Amber has a sugar high, she'll want you to go shopping with her.
An Amber out shopping means lots of distractions. She'll get lost and forget where she was going and you'll have to remind her where you were headed.
Once you've made it to the place you were planning to go, the Amber will find a shiny new outfit to try on.
When she has the new outfit on, the Amber will want to know what you think of it.
After you tell her how great it looks, the Amber will want to find a mirror so she can see for herself.
When the Amber looks in the mirror, a saleslady will come over and ask if everything is okay.
Amber will immediately make friends with the saleslady and start talking about everything they have in common.
They'll find out that they both wanted to go to the same concert that night and plan to meet up later.
Before the meet up later, the Amber will need to find some shoes to wear. She'll want your help with this.
While the Amber is trying on shoes, she'll realize she does not have any clean socks but she won't have enough socks to fill the washer, so she'll ask you if you have any to add.
Once the socks are all in the washer, the Amber will want to watch a movie to pass the time.
During the movie the Amber will get really tired from everything she's done and start to fall asleep.
When you wake up the Amber she won't know where she is, so you'll have to remind her.
Then she'll remember and she'll want to go get her socks.
The Amber will get her socks but on the way out of the laundry room she will see the vending machine and remember how tired she is...
And she will ask for another cookie.
Sunday, July 19, 2009
Monday, July 13, 2009
Disturbing discovery in Paris
I stumbled into a bathroom today to discover for the second time this trip a name that is oh so familiar: Villeroy and Boch. These famous people made my mother's nice set of dishes that she picked out in Germany and her friend shipped to her over a period of several months. We used to fight over who got which plate with which scene.
It was early in the morning and the toilet seat was up from being cleaned. And there, on the ledge was the familiar stamp: Villeroy and Boch. Suddenly I don't know whether these toilets are too good for me to sit on or if I should be weirded out by thousands of meals eaten on dishes apparently made from the same porcelain.
It was early in the morning and the toilet seat was up from being cleaned. And there, on the ledge was the familiar stamp: Villeroy and Boch. Suddenly I don't know whether these toilets are too good for me to sit on or if I should be weirded out by thousands of meals eaten on dishes apparently made from the same porcelain.
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