Saturday, May 31, 2008
It was fantastic.
Mind you, it was fantastic before I ever stepped in the theatre.
I had won two free tickets to a private screening, complete with free popcorn and pop. So this morning I put on my new jeans, rounded up my sister-in-law, and went to the movies. Whoo-hoo.
It could have have Adam Sandler in it and I still would have been happy.
But it gets better.
It was the new Indy. Yep, that's right, Harrison Ford. For free.
It really doesn't get any better than that.
I had read a couple of reviews this week that were a little negative and I would like to dispute that. Yes, it is about as realistic as Pamela Anderson's girls, but isn't that the point?
You suspend your disbelief and you just enjoy it. It was funny, entertaining and had some good special effects. The special effects weren't as good as Air Force One (my favorite action movie of all times) but still, pretty fun.
That being said, please do not take your 5 year old. (Unless comforting a crying child in the middle of the night for several weeks is your cup of tea, then be my guest.)
I had such a good time I will throw in a plug for the nice Realtor who made it all possible!
I hesitated linking to him because that would reveal which city I live in, but I don't put my name or photos on this blog, so what are the crazies gonna do? Drive around town hollering "Happy Geek, come out so we can beat you"? I figure I'm safe.
Now if you'll excuse me, I'm off to sword-fight on the back of a moving Jeep!
Tuesday, May 27, 2008
Don't tell nobody.
And most of all, don't put it out there on the Internet.
1. Occasionally I melt butter to pour over my low fat microwave popcorn. Lots of it.
2. I'm probably the only English major in the world who has not read any of Jane Austen's books. I've tried. They are so stinking boring. I'll stick to Tom Clancy.
3. My kids have worn the same socks three days in a row.
4. I'd rather eat chocolate than an apple.
5. My driver's licence says I'm 112 pounds. I was. When Clinton was president. Not ever changing it. EVER.
6. In twelve years I have lost three hearing aids. My husband is a patient, patient man.
7. When we go to the park, I don't wash my kid's hands before giving them a snack. They eat their fruit leather with their dirt encrusted hands. I tell myself I am boosting their immune systems.
8. That vitamin D thing you are supposed to give to breast fed babies? Sprout had it twice. I lied to the health nurse about it. I don't even feel guilty.
9. I have fallen asleep in church. Way Cooler was preaching at the time. "Pastor's Wife of the Year" I was not.
So, you got any secrets you want to share?
Wednesday, May 21, 2008
Bullets. (Alternate Title: This Post May Be So Boring You Might Want Some to Put it Out of it's Misery. )
I can decorate and renovate I am truly the whole package.
* Last Monday was Victoria Day which in Canada means the start of the camping and planting season. It is not unusual at all to have snow on the Victoria day Long Weekend but this year we got to celebrate in shorts and sunscreen. (Hey Gilles, the Monarchy is useful after all.)
I had a hard time wrapping my head around the fact that 6 days earlier I was shovelling but I didn't mind. Not at all. I really do love summer. Really really. I like to think the 6 months of winter helps us to truly appreciate summer unlike a Floridian who just takes the whole thing for granted. That doesn't mean I wouldn't trade places with them in heartbeat though.
*Sprout has decided that we are taking far too long getting around to potty-training him and has started to do it for himself. Can't say I mind at all. Less work for me. I wonder if he'd like to try his hand at cooking next?
* We now return you to something more interesting, such as paint drying, dental work and The World Series of Poker.
Monday, May 19, 2008
I finally realized what he was talking about when I was at the doctor's office and asked to provide a sample that involves a cup and a moist towelette.
The nurse had indicated how much she wanted but my output was sorely lacking.
I seriously contemplated adding some water from the tap so that she wouldn't be upset with me.
Gotta hate it when your husband is right.
Friday, May 16, 2008
I used to think this was because he was a serious professor with waaaay better things to do than read a mommy blog.
You know, discovering cures for the common sermon, stuff like that.
But, I am beginning to think it might be for another, less noble reason.
Last night I was reading this post from Big Mama. ( You might want to read it first, or the rest of the post will not make a heck of a lot of sense.) It was snort your Coke out funny. I had to share a line with Way Cooler.
"We subscribe to the theory that vegetables are what food eats."
I was certain he'd find it as funny as I did. We spent two years in Texas, we live in Alberta, we know these kind of people. We share DNA with these kind of people.
He didn't get it.
And, being the good professor that he is, he tried to break it down. He shared with me all the instances where that statement might not be true.
It was quite painful.
Even two hours later, he was still trying to prove to me why that statement was inaccurate.
I have never in my life been so sorry I shared.
But then I got thinking. Yes, we did spend two years in Texas, but he spent pretty much every waking moment of it in the library. At this place. For those of you unfamiliar with it, they are not exactly world famous for their levity.
They are good at teaching though. They cram a lot of knowledge into their students. So much so that their PhD students need their sense of humour surgically removed to make room for all that knowledge stuff.
And Way Cooler, he has a PhD.
The humour, it escapes him.
A samll disclaimer. WC is actually pretty funny. This would be payback for the two hours of joke analysis last night. Plus, the first statement is true, he doesn't read my blog, so I am pretty safe.
Thursday, May 15, 2008
as we were unpacking and organizing we realized that meant we would once again have to reassemble the dumb thing.
Neither of us took engineering in university for a reason.
The new thought became, "transition smanzition, he'll be fine."
No matter when we were going to do it we were nervous.
"Can't he just stay in the crib till he's twenty?" nervous.
Turns out we had nothing to be nervous about. He did supremely well. I had visions of him running around till midnight, after ripping every last thing out of his dresser, but he has only gotten off his bed once in two weeks. You could knock me over with a feather on that one.
The kid really is one giant contradiction.
So now the crib is in the garage waiting for a new home. One would think that this would make me sad, as it is another sign of the end of babies but it doesn't. At all.
Sunday, May 11, 2008
It's either this or another story about moving.
Relieved, aren't you? You can pop over to Veronica's site and thank her personally if you'd like.
So, here goes, 5 things that creep me out.
1. Scotch mints. They are chalky, nasty tasting things. But that isn't what makes them creepy. They creep me out because a senior at church used to keep some in her pocket to give to kids. So, whenever I am offered one all I can think of is pocket lint. Yummy.
2 . Flesh tunnels.
3. Spandex or Lycra on men. I just don't know where to look. The boys like watching 4 square on Treehouse and while it's educational, I usually try to get out of the room at the time. No one should have to be grossed out by toddler TV.
4. Comb-overs. Seriously guys, you're bald. We all know it. Those twelve hairs are fooling no one. Just grossing us all out a little.
5. Snakes. Even behind glass at the zoo I know they are thinking "if I could, I'd kill ya."
So, what gives you the heebies?
Thursday, May 8, 2008
I really know better. However, I got suckered in by some beautiful blue eyes that stared into mine and gently asked "Maybe we can make some chocolate chip cookies? That would be good!"
How could I resist?
I should have known the exercise was doomed for failure when I realized we had no brown sugar. "No problem" I thought, "we'll just run to Superstore, we need milk anyway."
Sometimes being out of sugar is a sign. This was one of those times.
It took an hour to get through the store. Apparently it only makes sense to me to put the sugar in the same aisle as the vanilla. Plus, Spud really did not want any part of the shopping experience today. At all. He wasn't real subtle in his disapproval. Tantrum on aisle 8 anyone?
Once home, we got right to work.
I had the boys up on their chairs and started creaming the sugar and margarine. I realized I needed a spatula so I turned off the mixer and turned to grab one and when I did, I caught the edge of the hand-mixer with my elbow. This caused the mixer to crash to the ground, spraying margarine and sugar on every possible surface.
I cleaned up and while washing the gritty, greasy mess discovered the dent in my brand new hardwood. At this rate the floors will easily resemble the moon's surface in a month or two.
With a newly cleaned floor I started out again only to discover that the fall had jammed my mixer in such a way that it wouldn't work. While attempting to fix it I turned my back on the boys who at this point were getting a wee bit bored.
That was a deadly combo. Sprout quickly began scooping flour and tossing it as fast as he could. It was in his hair, his eye-lashes, all down his clothes and the counter and floor looked as if we had just had a snowfall.
I got that cleaned up, finally finished up the dough, got the cookies in the oven and sent the boys off to play. Sprout translated that as "hang around the kitchen and see how close to the oven you can get before the grumpy lady notices."
I went to grab the wire racks to cool the cookies on, only the drawer they were in was jammed. While I was busy
So, to sum up,
1 dent in the floor +
3 tantrums in Superstore +
1 broken beyond repair mixer+
35 minutes of clean-up=
36 cookies- 12 burnt things that at one point resembled cookies.
Tuesday, May 6, 2008
In the house of Geek, that would be just about everything.
It's hard to pick just one flaming disaster but I will try.
When we were first married I was constantly trying out new recipes for my special groom. This was mistake number one. If I served lasagna every Monday night for the rest of his life he'd be a happy, happy man. Tuesday could be taco salad, Wednesday Teriyaki chicken, well you get the point.
He doesn't DO new recipes.
Mistake number two was "Forty Clove Chicken." I had seen it in several recipe books and was suckered in by the claim that the garlic would mellow and sweeten in the roasting process.
Not so much.
What they also failed to mention is that the aroma of garlic would permeate every porous surface of our house and linger there. For months.
So, there I was, happily roasting a chicken with 32 cloves of garlic stuffed in it's cavity. Yes, the recipe called for 40 but I didn't want to go overboard. I know, you are totally impressed with my restraint.
Anyway, the chicken was roasting, I was mashing potatoes and eager to welcome home my man. In the meantime my poor hubby was headed up the stairs to our apartment. An overwhelming wave of garlic hit him as he entered our hall. At first he figured it was just the family at the end of the hall who cooked with curry a lot, but as he got closer to our door it got stronger and stronger.
He opened the door and the first words out of his mouth?
I exclaimed "Dinner" burst into tears and ran into the bedroom.
40 clove chicken don't work for me!
My next WFMW post: How to get garlic out of your curtains.
P.S. For those of you sweet enough to say, "but Geekie, what other disasters do you speak of?"
There's a lot that don't work for me!
Monday, May 5, 2008
Plus, it's a really good idea to promptly return the calls of the homeowner whose plumbing you muffed up.
Otherwise by the time you get to her house to fix it she might be up to her armpits in laundry and will send in her toddlers to "help you".
Friday, May 2, 2008
Reading a blog post from me!
You're welcome. I'm sweet that way aren't I?
ANYWAY, we are in the new house.
Unpacking is progressing. I have yet to kill anyone, but I know understand the term "going postal." (More on that in another post!)
I am already discovering there are REAL advantages to living closer to family. My brother cooked me dinner two nights in a row, and today my dad popped in to fix my washer and break down all my boxes. I LOVE those men.
If I had known this we would have moved back YEARS ago.
The move is over and that is the best thing I can say about that. I will never again pay someone to pack for me, if I want someone to randomly chuck things into a box I will get Way Cooler to do it for free. Plus, he is waaay easier on the eyes.
I did manage to get a new (to me) broom out of the deal. Had to give mine up though. Yep, at some point in the move or storage or something my broom was switched out for one similar in colour but not angled and repaired with duct tape. Yee haw. They also broke my bed (which Ikea no longer carries) and put a dent in my hardwood when they dropped the broken bed on the floor. Wonderful. (If you are new to this blog, just a note, sarcasm is my favorite literary device.)
Another reason the move went so "smoothly" was when we had the guy come give us a quote we did not realize this meant "some random number we pick out of the sky to get you to choose us and then charge you much, much, more and hold your furniture hostage till you pay." But now we do.
Lesson of the day, cheaper is not always better.
Oh, and as you've probably guessed by now I do have Internet (thanks WC) but really have not had much time to blog or read them. Go figure.
So now that you've heard from me, your weekend is complete! (or something like that eh?)