Ponderment. Yes, I did make that up just now.

It is already well into the afternoon and I have accomplished exactly squat. 

Unless you count drinking copious amounts of coffee and wasting copious amounts of time via la world wide web, which I don't. 

Okay, I did clean the tub and take a bath. Since the neighbors that passed around the last petition will count that, I guess I will too. So, one down and fifteen thousand other things to go.

Whoopie for me. 

Besides getting the local dog population to leave me alone, my bath did accomplish one other thing. It occurred to me that if I can hear everything the upstairs neighbors say when they're in their bathroom, they have probably been listening with amusement and likely horror when I sing songs from Beauty and the Beast in the shower. And secondly, (so there are 2. So what.) I had some time to get in some good pondering before the water got cold. Mostly (especially if you don't count the usual David Hasselhoff themed items) on what my computer had to offer this morning:

Firstly, I can't figure out why this isn't the most popular website out there. Not kidding.  I'm going to stop all other web related shenanigans until I experience every single combo this site has to offer. Don't be ridiculous-OF COURSE that includes paying bills. Ain't nobody got time for that.  Don't worry, this isn't going to turn into page after page of me demanding you go look at crap you don't think is funny. I just think we should send all of our money to them so that they can't go away. Ever.

What has been on my mind the most is all of the scuttlebutt going around Facebook regarding my upcoming 20th high school reunion. I was just looking at the website that they set up for it. 

Gawking in fascinated horror would probably be a more accurate description.

After taking a good look at my senior picture, I have come to three conclusions. 

1- I have the EXACT SAME hairstyle as back then. It's just thinner and shorter. 

2-A more accurate name for the website would have been www.heyfattassjustlookathowfaryouhavefallen.com. At least I would have been a little more prepared.

3-Shit.

They are also asking for a little snippet about what you have been doing with your life for the last 20 (20!!!) years. 

This begs the questions-how much info is too much?

 What comprises a snippet exactly? 

Do I mention my prison term? The love child with Danny Devito? The fact that I have 43 naked Cabbage Patch dolls under my bed? The hoard of Mega Stuff Oreos in my nightstand drawer?

That last one was a trick question of course.

 I think anybody taking a good look at me can guess at the partial cause as to why I thought my hairstylist was trimming a giant, horribly misshapen potato when she turned me to the mirror during my haircut on Monday. 

But really-putting all of this aside leaves the biggest question of all:

Should I go? 

Besides chicken cordon bleu that can be made gluten free (I always order mine with extra gluten), they're threatening us with door prizes and "other goodies". 

Does this mean I'm going to show up only to be awarded the prize for overall saggiest body?  Most likely to have raised a foul-mouthed serial killer?  Closest resemblance to a hairy pork roast? Wobbliest underarms?

There will also be a photographer. 

Oh goody.

 Maybe I can get him to take enough pictures to be able to not only count all of my extra chins, but also get one that makes people ask why Jabba the Hut was in our graduating class. 

Not to mention whether or not 

I can forgive all of the skinny bitches that don't look any worse for wear long enough to get through the night? For that matter, can I forgive the boys in my English class that thought I didn't know anything about football because I was a girl? You know who you are you sexist pigs. Okay, you probably don't because you got a life a few years ago but just give me this alright?

Maybe I should take my penny jar to the bank instead.

 That 29 dollars could be the start of my "forget a facelift, a whole body lift is more like it" savings account.

Decisions. Decisions. 

 So much pondering. I guess I had better go get back in the bath.

Wasted

So, after my ridiculous resolution from last year expired, I promised myself I would keep blogging. Not because I think anyone out there is anxious for pictures of my new cards or to read my latest rant about how stupid people are. Because it's fun and it's nice to have somewhere to dump all of the crap floating around in the old noggin. Every few days I sit down to write something, and end up looking around the room an hour later to the realization that my coffee is cold, my back is killing me (our computer chair sucks ass), and I have looked at a bunch of dumb crap instead of doing what I set out (or sat down as it were) to do. 

Insert heavy sigh and irritated head shake here.

It happened again today. Of course. 

But-

instead of paying bills and figuring out exactly how much money we don't have, I am going to share what has been wasting my time this week. I know, deep down, you were dying to know. You just can't admit it to yourself because you're too busy keeping your shit together to prove how superior to me you are.

This one is from today. 

China. That's all I can say.

I know this has made the rounds this week but since the kids and I have

 watched it multiple times since Tuesday, it obviously bears repeating. 

The T-Rex kills me. I am such a nerd.

If you are a gamer or if you're like me and just love

 how cool some of the games look, you'll like these.

I'm not one of those Disney freaks running rampant around the internets but these are

 so awesome, I would buy the dickens out of a shirt bearing almost any of these.

I would wear that shirt so hard. You have no idea.

Speaking of Disney, this will make you wonder if anybody over there

 gave any serious thought to the finer plot points in Beauty and the Beast.

And in keeping with the Disney theme, I give you this:

The kids keep requesting it so I have been walking around the house

 for the last 2 weeks humming this tune.

It's kinda fun.(the video, not the humming. that's getting irritating)

Since I just confessed to being an Olympic level time waster, you know I could go on and on but I'll leave it here. Since it's afternoon, I guess I should go find some breakfast or something.

Of sick clowns and such...

Last week I learned an unpleasant truth about myself. 

I am a spoiled brat.

Okay, maybe not learned as much as was forced to acknowledge. I have long known this in that deep dark corner of my black little heart where such things are kept.

Let me explain. No, there is too much. Let me sum up.
I got myself a gig making displays for a scrapbook store. Seemed like a pretty straight up job. Just go in, get whatever packet was available, take it home and use it to make whatever was required. Easy peasy, lemon squeezy right?

Unless you get a packet of paper that makes you queasy. Not just queasy but makes you wince and squint your eyes everytime you get it out. In this case, Doodlebug Designs "Fruit Stand' was the paper. They could have been a little more accurate if they had named it "Clown Sick".
 There goes lemon squeezy-right out the window, and I am spending WAY more time than I should trying to make something that doesn't look like it has been vomited on by a circus' worth of drunken clowns. It was way too hard. Harder than making anything with paper has been in a long, long time. 

Because I am a spoiled brat.

Nowadays when I start a project or start to work something around in my head even, I usually know exactly what paper to go with. Even if I don't know exactly what paper I'm using, I have a damned good idea. AND, if I get stuck part of the way through, I just switch paper until everything comes out the way I have it in my head. Because it's easier that way. Because I can. Because having things turn out differently than the picture in my head makes me sad.

After spending the better part of a week fighting with the paper, I ended up with possibly 3 things I would claim as mine and the firm belief that I am a big fat spoiled brat that has completely lost the ability (if I ever had it in the first place) to do something I don't want to do. 

I have included the pictures I promised to all of the unfortunates that had the bad luck to call me on the phone last week and got stuck listening to me whine. Sorry about that...

 

Finding myself in a hairy situation... Get it? Get it?

I had Grand Plans to post a bunch of pics of all the things that have kept me

 busy over the last week or two. 

Until I woke up this morning secure in the knowledge that I definitely

 have the cold that has kept Thomas home from school this week.

UGH.

 Motivation down the toilet.

After being tapped on the shoulder for the umpteeth time while I was trying my 

best to waste the maximum amount of time possible on the computer, 

I decided we both needed a distraction.

And...bullied him into letting me do his hair.

 With 2 kinds of goop and even

(gasp!) the blow dryer. 

Then, of course, I had to have proof.

 Here it is:

This one was an accident. He started to cough just as I  pushed the button.

This is his Baby Peach-I don't like being sick face.

Pretending to be happy that he had more product in
 his hair than both of his sisters combined.

Even the back is pretty. Life is just not fair.

This is the, "If you had been willing to flip your head over for just a few more minutes,
 I could have made you look exactly like that kid from One Direction.
 You know, the one with all the hair." shot.

It's spelled Feb-roo-air-eee.

Holy, um, Moses. 

February.

Am I the only person that woke up this morning and thought,

 "where the hell did January go?".

Probably. I'm sure everybody else scurried around and accomplished all of their goals while I ate Peanut Butter M&M's and watched crap on YouTube. 

But-

If I'm wrong, and we're in the same boat,

-take heart-

there is a silver lining to be found here.

There is still time to make sure you start February off on the right foot.

If you're a fan of the Bad Lip Readings on YouTube, you need to watch this. Especially since the Super Bowl is this Sunday. This guy took one of the best BLR's and made it better. Who knew? 

If you're not a fan or don't know what I'm talking about; well, it sucks to be you then. Get yourself on YouTube and get yourself together man! 

WARNING: This video contains a particularly pernicious ear worm that will find you rolling over in bed at 3 in the morning with "Orange Peanut and AhhhhhahAAAhaaaaah" running on a continuous loop in your head.

I think I was led to this video by divine intervention. It couldn't be coincidence that I was talking to somebody about that website and then found this the very next day. Watch it and make a goal to wear real pants when you go out shopping this month. Every time. Most of the time really doesn't count.

Now watch this video of fireworks in reverse to wash those images out of your mind and

 calm your troubled soul. And because it's really cool.

Remember, if this mouse can pay for her own treats, whatever you've got going for

February can't be all that unmanageable.

And, last but not least, if you don't have anything like this on your 'fridge, 

you're probably going to be fine.

Chris Brown's List 

Resolvier

So, this is pretty much how I feel.

 Last January, I made a resolution to write on this blog every day. Even if it was something stupid, it didn't matter. The whole point was to force me into being better at follow through. Well, I completely dropped the ball on that whole write-every-day follow-through thing but totally nailed the stupid part so, partial victory yeah? What I mostly managed was to give myself another task at which to fail. As if I didn't have enough of those already.

 It's this experience that has made me start to wonder if we aren't going about New Year's resolutions all wrong. It's kind of ridiculous to wait until January every year to decide to do something about our problems or to fix something about ourselves. If you can't commit to making yourself better in the middle of March, or the end of June, then what makes you think you can manage it just because it's January 1st? Why do you think those money grubbing bastards at Wal-Mart have the exercise equipment front and center at the start of the year but it disappears completely by Easter, replaced by chocolate bunnies and Peeps in every color? That's because they know we will have given up on our fitness goals by then and be desperate to assuage our guilt by cramming marshmallow treats and candy coated chocolate in our cram holes. That's why. 

Think that one through, Jack.  

There is nothing magical about January, people. As months go it really kind of sucks.

 So, I propose we stop setting ourselves up for failure and make resolutions that will find us patting ourselves on the back all year rather than obsessing over the best method for committing Hara-Kari by May. 

At the latest.

With this new way of doing things in mind, I am feeling resolvier

and resolvier by the minute. 

Oh goody.  

This year I resolve to:

-drink more coffee. With creamer and sugar and anything else I like in it. And if by anything else I mean a whole fifth of vodka or enough Baileys to kill a pig, no judgement. I have 4 kids. By the middle of this year, three will be teenagers.

-buy more scrapbook paper. Because it's pretty and I like it and it's pretty and...it's pretty. As in, spend the GNP of a small but moderately well off African nation on paper. When we have to start stacking it on the bed, (about 3 1/2 weeks from now) it will just make bedtime that much more fun.

-be even more amused by inappropriate jokes rather that less. If prostitutes don't want me to find them funny, they should find a different profession.

-drink mind-boggling amounts of Pepsi and Coke. Does it really matter how fat I get if my hands are curled into useless fists anyway? Answer: No.

-stop wasting time and energy on trivialities like sweeping the floor. That's what ants and mice are for. Same goes for counter-tops and dirty dishes and...well, everything.

-use more curse words. Because they amuse me and make me feel better. Always.

-outwardly mock my fellow human beings more. Let's face it, people are stupid and I really am going to Hell anyway.

-run with any craft project that comes to mind. Trust me, there are about 1000 rolling around up there. If we end up with twice as many half-finished craft projects piled on every surface, so be it. It's NOT MY FAULT I can't  play with paper 27 hours a day.

-continue to make fun of and joke with Lisa what's-her-name. Because once you give my digits to the sister missionaries, all bets are off. AND because if I can still laugh about it, I won't give into the urge to find her and stab her with a spork every time she texts me.

-tweet more. A LOT more. Not because anybody wants me to but because it makes me happy to know that all 4 of my followers know when I am at the ghetto Wal-Mart on 3rd west or have seen a low quality picture of my orange chicken from Panda Express. 

and last but not least, 

-eat more bacon. As in, eat Oprah's weight in bacon. That kind of eat more bacon. My arteries are already pretty pissed at me anyway.

An Artful Christmas

Happy December. 

Take that greeting to heart because we all know that in about a week or so I am going to be heartily sick of all things holiday and saying as much every chance I get. 

I discussed this phenomenon earlier this year with one of my BFF's and we came to the conclusion that part of the problem stems from the insane over commercialization of Christmas.

 I know.

 Ground breaking stuff.

 Even though it may be well trodden ground, I still feel it to be very true for me. 

That is why the Christmas subway art that has been rolling around in my head since October morphed from bright and jolly, Santa and holly into this:

I took a 9x12 flat canvas and covered it in pages from an ancient copy of Les Miserables.

 Don't freak out-it was literally in pieces.

 From there it was a matter of  laying the vinyl on top.

 Besides the actual design of the words, (everybody knows that's the hard part)

 the thing that took me the longest was

 finding sufficiently festive ribbon that didn't clash with the yellowed book pages. 

Pleased with it I am. Hang it I will.

Maybe if I get it up quickly, I can stave off the 

Holiday Blahs 

for a few more days than usual.

P.S. Can you tell I watched Star Wars this last weekend? 

I love being a nerd.

Just because I'm paranoid doesn't mean they aren't after me.

Here's the thing,

I have become a prisoner in my own home. 

I know. Sounds a little far-fetched. Possibly even overly-dramatic.

 It's true though. 

I am being pursued by a very determined ward missionary lady. The very same one that seems to be overly fond of the dreaded drop-in visit. The one I mention here. Besides one or two random texts from her, I haven't had any contact with her since then. BUT-according to the kids, I have had a few narrow escapes in the last few weeks. It is only by sheer luck that I have missed her follow up drop-in visits. And, since I am NEVER lucky for long, I am sure that on her next visit she will find me home alone, too drunk to remember that I no longer answer the door and forgetting that I'm not wearing pants or something until it is too late. 

Now, lest you think I am just being paranoid, I can offer further proof that I am in danger of having to endure another awkward drop-in. Awkward on my side, that is. I'm sure she will just go home and take a couple of  nice hot showers to wash away the stench of ghetto she picks up from her required visits to our side of the tracks. 

It started with a text I received at 8:30 on Sunday morning. It woke me up of course. Any self-respecting mother with children old enough to feed themselves breakfast doesn't get out of bed until 9 (9:30, 10:00-close enough) on the weekends. Replace lazy for self-respecting in that last sentence and it describes me to a T. 

The transcript:

Lady: morning, thinking of u & how it would be so fab to be w/u at church in our little class after sacrament mtg. it's empty w/o u. if I can pick u up, text.

I waited a little while for my rage at being awakened that early to subside (did I mention I'm not a morning person?) and for church to start and then sent this answer:

Me: Thanks. It's always nice to be thought of. usually the only little room that feels empty w/o me is in a mental institution.

See how nice I was in actually answering and everything?

Keep in mind that she is at church at this point and that I resisted the urge to say that I was going to tell the bishop she was texting in church.

Lady: I do think of u and ur kids a lot. I want to come visit again if ok. when is a good time, 2day possibly? we could talk outside if easier again, maybe take a walk?

Me: Going to be in Lehi with my oldest most of the day.

This was true if you didn't count the 2 hours that I spent accordion folding book paper and

 watching a movie in bed before I needed to leave.

Lady: ok during the week sometime, I let me know and I can drop by.

Me: no response

Lady:oops u let me know

Me: no response

Lady: regarding your first comment, are u stressed, need anything? 

After the15 minute stretch it took to process the fact that she actually thought I was hinting to her that I needed mental help, (which I probably do but wouldn't seriously tell that to a stranger) I replied with this extremely restrained answer if I do say so myself.

Me: No. that was a joke. If u knew me better u would know that I am never serious. Even during a funeral.

Lady: ok, lol

Firstly, we now know that she used lol which means she could be a satanist working to bring things down from the inside. Everybody knows that this is true:

I try to share this with any and all Christians I run across.

Secondly and more importantly, we know that this woman thinks I am some rude loony that doesn't let people into her house, has been and/or needs to be in a mental hospital but would actually just call her during the week and say, "Hey girl! got some free time. Why don't you boogie on over here and we'll have some grown-up girl bonding time! Yay!" or something to that effect. You think she would have learned a little more about me from our other encounter. If that was anything to go by she should be expecting me to ramble about my colonoscopy and hang up without saying goodbye.

I was still only slightly alarmed until I came home the other afternoon and found a flier for the Relief Society progressive dinner stuck to my door with the following written across the top:

Hope you can make it!  Enjoyed texting with you!

It was after this that I realized that she thought I was crazy enough to wander from unknown house to unknown house with perfect strangers in search of my dinner; (if we share genetic material and/or I will swear in front of you, we're golden. Otherwise, all bets are off.) and also that my luck was about to run out.  

Oh Dear.

I have been forced to develop a few strategies to get around this now very real and constant threat from our intrepid Ward Missionary Lady. Until she moves on to another poor sap, this is my life: 

*If I am in the kitchen, a knock at the door will find me hitting the deck like we are under mortar attack. AND since my children don't seem to have enough of the tell-a-lie-but-make-it-quick gene that runs through my family to tell whoever might be there that I have malaria (moved to Borneo, become a man and left to tour Canada with a barbershop quartet, whatever), I have started to dig a hole into the wall behind the stove in case I become trapped in the kitchen and need a quick escape.

*The few times I have been forced by necessity to venture out, I have taken to first watching through the blinds for any movement that might indicate an ambush before I can dash to the safety of the car. I also wave an old broom handle over my head in a circle as I dash. Just in case the ambush is better executed than I thought.

*When I get back, I duck down and make three passes past the place before I park. Having the porch comes in handy at this point. The bruised shins and black eyes from awkwardly vaulting the porch railing and crawling to the door are worth it.

*If I hear a knock and happen to be in my bedroom or bathroom; I have been known to lie down next to the toilet in the hopes that it will be thought that I hit my head on the toilet and therefore have good reason to avoid whomever is at the door. I keep a bottle of ketchup under the bathroom sink to slather on my head for just such an occasion.

So, keep all this in mind if you decide to drop-by.  

On second thought, maybe you'd better call first.

S.N.O.W!

It's been snowing all morning and I couldn't be happier. If I weren't elbow deep in apples, I might be doing my happy happy snow dance.

There is nothing on earth like the first real snowfall of the year. 

Suz was too excited to bother finding her snow boots and waded out in Sam's slicker boots. Sam (aka Baby Peach) went out for 5 minutes and declared it too cold. That's why Miss Q is here making a snow fort with the neighbor kid instead.

Oat-us-meal-us

I'm not ashamed to say that 

I love oatmeal.

It's cheap, healthy and tasty. What's not to love? 

And, since I am kind of a food Nazi when it comes to what the kids eat for breakfast on school days, (cold cereal only on one or two days! horrors!) oatmeal is also one of the perpetual breakfast options around here. Unfortunately, nobody will eat a bowl of oatmeal every. single. morning. Nobody but me anyway. Therefore, I am perpetually looking for easy breakfast options that are an option at 5 in the morning (when Miss Priss crawls out of bed) but don't require me getting up at 4 to prepare them. This recipe is one of my new favorites. I make it the night before and stash it in the fridge. That leaves me with nothing to do the next morning but to turn on the stove and shove it in. Most of the time I even remember to remove the plastic wrap first. Trust me; at 5 in the morning, there is not much more of which I am capable. I have also been known to make it as a snack after school, leaving the leftovers for a re-heat able breakfast. Which, in turn, leaves me in bed later that morning. Serious win-win. Thomas likes to heat it in the microwave but Turner does her re-heating in a dry frying pan because she thinks it is too mushy otherwise. Vive la Difference! 

I found this recipe in an old Reader's Digest I was reading while I waited 2 hours (2 hours!!!) to get the van aligned. I can't attribute the original recipe to anyone beyond that because in my I'm-entitled-because-I-can't believe-I'm-still-here magazine ripping frenzy, I didn't rip out both pages, just the one that would let me know the basic idea. I never completely follow any recipe anyway, so the rest didn't seem to matter. 

One last note: The original recipe called for blueberries but I don't really love them. I have used both the Wal-Mart brand mixed berries (sans strawberries because they were too big) and straight up raspberries. Both were equally good. But use blueberries if you're sick like that. I also haven't actually made this with the walnuts due to the fact that the older I get, the more and more allergic to them I get. And now you have something good to write about in your journal today.

Baked Oatmeal

2 c. old fashioned rolled oats     1/2 c. walnuts, chopped    

1/3-1/2 c. sugar(depending on the tartness of your berries)    

1 t. baking powder     1 1/2 t. cinnamon     scant 1/2 t. salt     2 c. milk     1 egg    

3 T. butter, melted     2 t. vanilla     2 ripe bananas, sliced     1 1/2 c. frozen berries

1.Preheat oven to 375 degrees with rack in top third of oven.  Butter 8x8-inch baking pan.

2.In a bowl, mix together oats, half the walnuts, sugar, b. powder, cinnamon and salt. In another bowl, whisk together milk, egg, half the butter and vanilla.

3.Arrange bananas in a single layer in bottom of baking dish. Sprinkle 2/3 of berries over top.  Cover fruit with rest of oat mixture. Slowly drizzle milk mixture over oats. Scatter remaining berries and walnuts on top. 

4.Bake 35-40 minutes, until top is golden and oats have set. Remove from oven; drizzle remaining melted butter on top. Serve with extra sugar or maple syrup if desired.