The grass has landed! The grass has landed!
Tuesday, June 30, 2009
Sunday, June 28, 2009
Animals? You bet, as soon as they make one that doesn't shed, make any noise, poop on my lawn and require more care than my children. It also can't have scales, feathers, fur or a shell.
Best weather: 26 degrees, a few puffy clouds and a light breeze to keep things pleasant. Plus a frosty drink and my two favorite pool boys.
Chinese / Mexican food: Chinese. But not the MSG laden stuff in the mall. I like the stuff where my family Are the only Caucasians in the restaurant. I've only had this once or twice since I've been married and it about killed Way Cooler. He does not like (and this is a direct quote) foreign food. He can't even handle Greek. I like Mexican, but Mexican does NOT like me. My poor kids come by their reflux issues honestly.
Drop things: trip over things, bump into things, get hit by things, you name, I do it.
Food: Oh yes please. I grew up in a family that LOVES food. I like to list eating as one of my hobbies. This may explain why I am a tad on the heavy side.
Greatest fear: Losing a child. Even typing it makes my heart beat faster.
Hair color: Brown with natural golden highlights. We shall see how long that lasts. I've got really competing genes on this issue. I'm so hoping I take after my Paternal Grandma who still had some brown hair at 100. REALLY HOPING.
Instrument: 7 years of Piano lessons. Finally passed grade two Royal Conservatory. With less than flying colours. To say I'm not musical is sorta the understatement of the century.
Jewelry: I am SO not girly in this manner. I never wear earrings, I find bracelets annoying and always forget to put on a necklace. I would make a TERRIBLE Southern girl.
Laughed so hard you cried: Most days. My kids are a constant source of entertainment.
Movies: Action. Most chick flicks make me want to stab my eyes out. She meets him, they have a misunderstanding, it is resolved and they sail away into the sunset. Throw in an illness or a natural disaster or another man (who wasn't meant to be) and that is the plot line of every chick flick EVER made.
Name: My middle name is a month. But not the one I was born in. You can guess, but I probably won't tell:)
One wish: Hair that just did itself.
Perfect pizza: Lots and lots of meat. All kinds. And mushrooms. And feta. With a cream sauce, not tomato. Oh and don't forget the caramelized onions.
Question you would like answered: What can I do to make a REAL difference in this world?
Reality TV: So You Think You Can Dance.
Salad Dressing: 4 cheese ranch with bacon. Which sorta negates the whole point of salad.
Thunderstorms: I love them. I'm really hoping there will be one in Texas when we visit in October. Those were the most amazing thunderstorms I had ever seen.
Unpredictable: Since I have been married, every single change we have made is one that I never would have imagined in a thousand years. And we've made a bunch of changes. Which is a bit ironic since I am all about stability.
Vacation spot: A hot spot where the biggest thing I have to do is order another frosty drink. This may never happen again, but a girl can dream.
Worst feeling: Being late.
X-rays: Spud needed several chest x-rays as an infant. Which was horrid at the time, but now I picture him strapped in that thing and madder than a hornet and I just laugh and laugh. Which is yet another reason I will never be mommy of the year.
Yellow: Currently Sprout's favorite colour. Woe to the fool who does not give him a yellow cup.
Zoo animal: Whatever animal my children are pretending to be at the moment.
Thursday, June 25, 2009
Tuesday, June 23, 2009
It really doesn't get any better than this. Well, I could have grass, but let's not get carried away.
And now I abruptly switch topics.
Stick with me.
I got a MUCH needed haircut last week. I'd been putting it off forever because I didn't really like the hairdresser I had and I hate trying to find a new one. But the mop on top was finally getting to me so I bit the bullet and did it.
Apparently the newest trend is to have bangs. Every hairdresser I encounter tries to talk me into having bangs. I'm thinking of having a card made up to hand them when the whole "bangs are cool" spiel begins. The card would read as follows:
Dear Nice Lady with Scissors,
I know bangs are cool. Trouble is, I am not. No matter how you cut them and how many times you show me how to properly style them, the instant I get home I am going to get a medium barreled curling iron, curl my bangs into one straight curl and then tease them upward and shellac them with hairspray. I can't help it. It's a sickness I have. I am certain you don't want that kind of a hair tragedy on your hands. So slowly back away from the scissors and no one will get hurt.
Fortunately, she listened to reason and I got a decent haircut. Now I am good for another 4-5 months or so. Seriously. I try not to do that to myself any more than I absolutely have to.
I've got better things to do. Like staring at my pretty fence.